Disbelief pervaded every sense this elf had. It showed in her features, normally set to scowling or intimidating. Eyes cast over with a dark shadow, shades of green mixed with incredulity. The feeling was strange, having finally brought her dream to fruition. Standing before her was the very woman who had thrown her life in to a dark spiral. The elf wouldn't even be standing here in this place had it not been for her. Instead she would still be ensconced in the beautiful and lush forests of Kusana. Now she was walking through the dredges of society, clinging to the underworld in hopes of discovering a lead to the one who started all of this madness. The elf knew she needed to calm herself. Letting her emotions take hold now would lead to failure, no doubt about it. The woman she needed to find was cunning, far more so than the average being. Her life was one intricate lie after the other, like a web spun by a spider. She knew there was only one creature safe in such an entanglement, surely not the fly.
Talia Kane sat in a dark corner of this particularly sticky bar. She stood out from the crowd, a dark elf with strange features. Magicks cast over one another until a facsimile of human flesh had been reached. Her skin was smooth as silk, flawless and a pale light in the darkness. Sanguine, Talia's favored shade decorated lips. Spiraling orbs of forested hues peered out beneath a drawn hood, predatory in their nature. Her target was sitting at the bar, poised and proper. Her black-as-night hair cascaded down her back like rivulets of tar, and it sickened Talia. How could she be so complacent with herself? Anger flared as manicured nails tapped once against the table. Slender fingers extended outward, three rings upon the left and one on the right. Beneath her breath a spell was muttered. The woman did not notice how her glass glimmered for just a moment. In the shadows the dark elf tensed, waiting for the drink to be lifted and downed. Finally! With swiftness she rushed to her feet and moved to the woman. Gripping her shoulders just in time, for the woman swooned and fell in to her arms. Nobody cared what was happening, and so in relative secrecy Talia stole away with the woman.
Entering the back alleyway the necromancer deposited her victim carelessly upon the ground, propping her up against the wall. Her spell had rendered her inept but only for so long. She lifted the woman's head up and peered at her, making sure this was the right one. Almost the exact same face she remembered, only younger. Talia faltered for a moment, wondering if she had the right person. It had been years, but it was impossible to forget such a visage. This had to be her! The magus steeled her nerves and hardened her resolve. There was no mistaking it. Seeing her tormentor so powerless before her made her giddy. So badly did she want to end her here, to pierce her heart and tear it free as an offering to her lord. No, information was needed first. Talia had to remind herself sharply lest she get carried away. Whispering sweet nothings to a friend unseen she lifted her hand to the woman's chin, tenderly lifting it up. From beneath the sleeve of her cloak slithered a snake. It hissed and flickered its tongue out, tasting the air. It knew its master's bidding and there was no hesitation when it moved from down her arm and parted the woman's lips forcefully. Talia watched as her familiar made its way down in to the woman's throat, causing her to gag and convulse. When its tail disappeared behind her teeth the elf clamped her hand over her mouth to keep her from expelling it. The woman's body began to thrash and writhe beneath her. Yes! Yes! Talia's eyes widened in excitement, she was so close to having control over this vile being.
Today was apparently, not the day for her victory. Before her very eyes the woman's body shattered like shards of glass, exploding outward and showering her in a foreign energy. "No! Impossible!" Talia shrieked like a banshee, grabbing wildly at her hood and tearing it down. Her eyes wildly assessed the situation, chest rising and falling rapidly with her erratic breathing. Her plan had failed and now she had revealed herself. It took but a moment for the snake to come slithering out of the pile of clothes that were left behind. Without a word it began to morph. It bubbled and boiled until it grew and multiplied in size. Then there was a mirror image of herself staring back, more primal in the eyes. Talia needed this to be a distraction. In a murky blackness she disappeared, leaving her familiar alone.
Energy 825 Stats 4/8 Equipment - Passives
• Dementia This ability allows them to store a tiny fraction of Justor's magic into their own body. The result is simple and yet very efficient. Not only are their casting times reduced by one post, but their spells are increased in size and range (and speed... slightly). This makes their magic harder to dodge, further solidifying them as the most efficient magic-users. The rate at which size/range are increased = add 1/3 of the base. So, 15 feet in length would become 20 feet in length. Speed is increased by about 1/5th, although this can become overwhelming if you constantly sling spells.
• Mania *Can be used at any time The Dark Elves may project their immediate conscious into the moonlight, and projecting your conscious into very nearby mana allows you to directly connect to Justor's energy. This allows for a wide-range of spells that are not possible with other bloodlines, simply in concept. Furthermore, these spells are all free of energy, as they use the mana nearby, not your own reserves.
These abilities, as listed: The Dance of Veils By projecting your magical conscious somewhere else, a very quick and easy process, you may warp to that location, similar to a teleport. Upon disappearing, your location is wrapped in a dusk-colored shroud, and re-appearing is animated by a bright white flash. Of course, this is a very useful spell, but it may only be done once every other post. You can only teleport up to twenty feet away. It should be noted that you only project your [magical conscious] here, meaning you don't go blank or lose concentration while using this.
• The Bride of Justor In legend, it is told that the very first Dark Elf, Cirstec, was made into a demi-goddess by Justor, brought up to be his bride. This ability conjures her influence in the mana rather than his, allowing for a unique spell. Cirstec will allow you to twist the light around you, making you invisible to the enemy's eyes. Those with good hearing/smell can still sense you, but many people will be unable. Striking, casting or moving too quickly will break this ability. This means all you can really do is walk. It's useful when cornered, as it's a very potent hiding skill. It's also useful when trying to use a surprise attack, although the technique will end the moment you begin the attack. The most common use of Cirstec's shroud is waiting for the cooldown on the Veil (teleportation) to come off, so that you may make distance between you and the target. The Veil will not end the shroud until it has already teleported you.
• I am loved This is a legendary ability of the Dark Elves, only spoken of in stories for its heartwarming take on the relationship of Justor, his bride, and their children. If a dark elf is to die, their light fading and their blood running cold, they may call upon their God and hope that he answers. Generate a number between 1-3. If it's two, Justor will personally project his own power into the mana and restore you, a divine intervention only made possible through the love between the elves and their god. If anything other than two, he will not hear you, and you are on your own. This can only be attempted once a month in earth time.
• Death Sense Necromancers have the keen ability to sense death. Be it something already dead, something recently dead, something about to die, etc. They will always know when ghosts are around them. This does not mean they can determine who it is nor is it able to lead them to the location of a Dead RPC they do not know about.
• I am yours Talia Kane's familiar often chooses the form of a snake. It is able to communicate with her in ways no one else can, by emotion, by thought, by touch, etc. Even if there is distance between them they are of a shared mind, for the familiar is an extension of her. It comes with 500 energy of its own kind. The energy signature is the same as Talia's, therefore indecipherable from her own by anyone who can sense energy. The familiar can be destroyed by attacks of equal rank to it, though it will always reform and return to Talia. At C-rank it takes merely a post for it to return. For each rank above that the count is increased, capping at 3 posts. Every time the familiar dies its energy pool is depleted by 100. It recharges when the pool is drained, though it must be outside of battle to do so. The familiar can act as a conduit for Talia's spells, though the energy withdrawal comes from her own pool when casting spells not related to the talent.
Technique
Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2016 6:06 am
Lenoré awoke suddenly, gasping for air as she sprung upright. She was disoriented...in that shoddy dive bar one minute, the next- She gasped again, and held her hand to her bare throat, fighting the urge to vomit.
Slowly, she began to piece together what had happened. Although she had, in the conventional sense, dreamed of the events, she knew all too well that it wasn't a dream at all. In the six months that have passed since her escape, Lenoré found herself in Port Acedia. Using her illusions to coerce men out of their coin in seedy bars, she had been able to rent a modest room in a broken-down complex. Though she was far from content with her dingy surroundings, she had managed to live her life in relative peace for the past half year. until now.
She turned her head towards the wall opposite to her bed. On it, hung a mirror, plain and undecorated. Her body trembled as she stood to survey herself in it. Her long, dark locks were disheveled, but her face did not betray the terror she felt inside. So many questions ran through her mind. Had she been found? Would they kill her? Trying to quell her fear, she took a deep breath and waved her hand. Behind her, a drawer opened, and from inside a brush sailed through the air into her outstretched palm.
She turned her attention back to the mirror as she trailed the brush through her hair. It felt therapeutic. This will not be the end. I will not let myself lose. She repeated the mantra over and over in her head her as she gathered her courage Finally she spoke, "Show me the woman." she said dominantly, her eyes boring into the mirror.
The mirror began to cloud with smoke, and a vortex formed in the center spiraling rapidly as the image of her assailant began to appear before her eyes.
She found the woman in an alleyway. She was tall, clad in black, somber, and unmoving. Her stillness was unsettling. Almost as if she was..waiting?
Sensing a trap Lenoré held her breath and quickly focused her her eyes on the back of the woman's skull, drawing her consciousness on what lies inside. She poked and prodded at the woman's brain stem with her mind, until she found the series of nerves that she could manipulate to cripple her long enough to get the answers she needed.
Lenoré struck fast. As she narrowed her eyes, the woman instantly fell to her knees throwing her head back as if she had been pierced by a preternatural knife. Lenoré took pleasure in the woman's writhing, all too pleased with her handiwork.
However, It was a bit too soon to celebrate. Milky black smoke began to cascade from the woman's body, and before long, she was gone, leaving Lenoré dumbfound.
Lulub3an
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A faint smile
Dedicated Friend
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2016 1:15 pm
Feeling the mental link wither and die as her familiar was assaulted with some sort of profane magic had Talia gritting her teeth. It was possibly one of the most uncomfortable reaction to have. Each time it happened a phantom pain would erupt inside of her, slowly subsiding until the snake would return. For now, it seemed the witch was on her own. Her creature had served its purpose, though. Wherever that woman had hidden herself would soon be revealed. She had slipped up, and a sense of her energy had registered in Talia's mind. All she needed to do now was scry her location. The elf stalked through dark alleyways until she found a barrel full of rain water. Grasping the edges of it she took a deep breath and peered in to her own reflection. Mentally reciting a spell in an elvish tongue she extended her energy and forced it on to the water.
The surface stilled until it was a perfect mirror. Without any physical provocation the liquid began to shimmer and then swirl, distorting Talia's reflection. The colors mixed and spun until once more the waters settled. There she was! The same raven-haired woman as before. This time she was peering in to a mirror, and it was through that reflection that the elf could see. More energy was needed, a deeper concentration. In a trance-like state a blank faced Talia pulled the image further and further away until she was outside the window, looking through it. When she finally saw the building and street, the elf knew where to strike. With renewed purpose she moved, heeled boots clacking sharply against the stoned pavement. Nearby there was a graveyard for sailors who died in the Port, and now they would serve another cause.
Talia walked to the center of the graveyard and held her hands out to her side. She tilted her head back and beheld a full moon. Bathing in the light she felt so close to the power. "From the depths of hell I summon thee! Come forth and do my bidding!" Her words poured out in the harsh language of demonica, mixing with the power from within her body. The ring upon her right hand shined with this energy. Silence at first, but Talia had faith. The ground beneath her feet began to crack and crumple inward. Skeletal hands clawed through the dirt and pulled themselves free. Seven of these undead made their way from the underworld and followed behind their mistress. It took only a few minutes to reach where Lenoré had chosen to stay. "Bring me her head!" Talia commanded, and her army obeyed. The zombies would break through the inn's doors and go to the other mage's room. Violently would they attack, and without pause. All the while Talia watched from the safety of the outside.
Energy 825 Stats 4/8 Equipment - Passives
• Dementia This ability allows them to store a tiny fraction of Justor's magic into their own body. The result is simple and yet very efficient. Not only are their casting times reduced by one post, but their spells are increased in size and range (and speed... slightly). This makes their magic harder to dodge, further solidifying them as the most efficient magic-users. The rate at which size/range are increased = add 1/3 of the base. So, 15 feet in length would become 20 feet in length. Speed is increased by about 1/5th, although this can become overwhelming if you constantly sling spells.
• Mania *Can be used at any time The Dark Elves may project their immediate conscious into the moonlight, and projecting your conscious into very nearby mana allows you to directly connect to Justor's energy. This allows for a wide-range of spells that are not possible with other bloodlines, simply in concept. Furthermore, these spells are all free of energy, as they use the mana nearby, not your own reserves.
These abilities, as listed: The Dance of Veils By projecting your magical conscious somewhere else, a very quick and easy process, you may warp to that location, similar to a teleport. Upon disappearing, your location is wrapped in a dusk-colored shroud, and re-appearing is animated by a bright white flash. Of course, this is a very useful spell, but it may only be done once every other post. You can only teleport up to twenty feet away. It should be noted that you only project your [magical conscious] here, meaning you don't go blank or lose concentration while using this.
• The Bride of Justor In legend, it is told that the very first Dark Elf, Cirstec, was made into a demi-goddess by Justor, brought up to be his bride. This ability conjures her influence in the mana rather than his, allowing for a unique spell. Cirstec will allow you to twist the light around you, making you invisible to the enemy's eyes. Those with good hearing/smell can still sense you, but many people will be unable. Striking, casting or moving too quickly will break this ability. This means all you can really do is walk. It's useful when cornered, as it's a very potent hiding skill. It's also useful when trying to use a surprise attack, although the technique will end the moment you begin the attack. The most common use of Cirstec's shroud is waiting for the cooldown on the Veil (teleportation) to come off, so that you may make distance between you and the target. The Veil will not end the shroud until it has already teleported you.
• I am loved This is a legendary ability of the Dark Elves, only spoken of in stories for its heartwarming take on the relationship of Justor, his bride, and their children. If a dark elf is to die, their light fading and their blood running cold, they may call upon their God and hope that he answers. Generate a number between 1-3. If it's two, Justor will personally project his own power into the mana and restore you, a divine intervention only made possible through the love between the elves and their god. If anything other than two, he will not hear you, and you are on your own. This can only be attempted once a month in earth time.
• Death Sense Necromancers have the keen ability to sense death. Be it something already dead, something recently dead, something about to die, etc. They will always know when ghosts are around them. This does not mean they can determine who it is nor is it able to lead them to the location of a Dead RPC they do not know about.
• I am yours Talia Kane's familiar often chooses the form of a snake. It is able to communicate with her in ways no one else can, by emotion, by thought, by touch, etc. Even if there is distance between them they are of a shared mind, for the familiar is an extension of her. It comes with 500 energy of its own kind. The energy signature is the same as Talia's, therefore indecipherable from her own by anyone who can sense energy. The familiar can be destroyed by attacks of equal rank to it, though it will always reform and return to Talia. At C-rank it takes merely a post for it to return. For each rank above that the count is increased, capping at 3 posts. Every time the familiar dies its energy pool is depleted by 100. It recharges when the pool is drained, though it must be outside of battle to do so. The familiar can act as a conduit for Talia's spells, though the energy withdrawal comes from her own pool when casting spells not related to the talent.
Technique
Posted: Wed Aug 03, 2016 7:51 am
Lenoré had not a moment to spare. She could hear the the dead trudging through the hallway outside her door. They would soon be banging down the door, and judging by the state of the building, it would hold for no more than a few minutes. However, unlike the last time she faced the snake-witch, this time she had a plan.
Lenoré severed her mental link with the mirror. The image of the pale witch that was reflected in the mirror faded away slowly. Beads of sweat began to form on her brow as she quickly removed the mirror from the wall and laid it down gingerly on the floor before her. In the background a grimoire floated from the shelf where it was being kept. A single page tore from the book and sailed into Lenoré's hand, which she quickly stuffed into her pocket. With another wave of her hand, a hand mirror she kept by her bedside floated into her grasp. Having been starved for beauty her entire life, Lenoré loved her collection of lavish baubles she had garnered from her victims over the past six months. Although It pained her greatly, to have to leave behind such treasures, the yellowed page and the hand mirror was all she needed now.
There was a pounding on her door. It wouldn't hold much longer. Clutching her enchanter's pendant in her right hand, it began to glow with a soft, purple light. She bent down and touched the tip of the glowing pendant to the glass of the mirror she had laid down a moment earlier. The eerie glowing light from the pendant spread quickly across the glass of the mirror, dimming for just a second before it erupted into a nova with such force that her belongings began to fly about the room. As the magic stabilized, Lenoré got to her feet and began to step into the mirror, as if she was stepping into a hole in the floor. She closed her eyes and continued deeper into the depths of the purple light, hearing the door breaking open, and the sound of walking corpses pushing their way in behind her.
The mirror was a portal, linked to a another mirror in the bathroom of a posh nightclub club located on the other side of town. She casually stepped out of the mirror, one foot landing in a porcelain sink, the other landing steady on the counter in front of her. Before her stood a garishly dressed woman who seemed to be in the process of reapplying her lipstick, as evidenced by the crimson smudge mistakenly applied that now decorated her shocked face. The woman began to speak. "Where did you...how...? What?" she stuttered, shaking.
Lenoré laughed. And sat on the edge of the counter so that she was eye to eye with the woman. Crossing her legs she spoke, "Sweetie, boys don't like stupid girls who cannot speak in complete sentences...or even manage to put on their lipstick properly."
The woman shuddered, bewildered, unable to utter a response. "Aw..what's the matter? Shocked stupid? Let me just put you out of your misery darling." Lenoré's eyes flashed sadistically, betraying her sweet tone of voice as she bewitched the woman in front of her. The corners of her mouth turned upwards into a smile, as she watched the the woman's eyes roll back into her skull as she collapsed.
Lenoré hoped down from the counter and studied at the woman before her. She was sprawled on the ground, blood trailing from her nostrils. "Cheap whore." muttered Lenoré while she bent down and took the earrings the woman was wearing off her corpse. She turned back to the mirror, studying her reflection as she tilted her head, inserting the dead woman's earrings into her own ears, one after the other.
Lenoré was right to choose this particular club as her point of escape. Music blaring in the background, she made her way through the crowd on the dimly lit dance floor. The club was packed, and she blended in perfectly, making it an ideal spot to hide from an ambush, or in this case, a horde of flesh eating corpses. She continued to push her way through the masses of sweaty patrons, to a stairwell that lead up to the roof of the building. Climbing the stairs, she fished through her pocket for the yellow page she tore from her grimoire earlier. Holding the crumpled page in hand, she pushed open the door to the roof and emerged outside. It was chilly, but refreshing feeling the cool wind on her skin that was covered in goosebumps from a mix of fear and excitement.
Lenoré held the page with both hands, to her chest. Her head reeling from the events of the night so far. Who was this witch? Although Lenoré had little experience dealing with other Magi, the scale of the other woman's powers were unnerving. How could she have not seen through that...illusion? Was that what it was? And however different her style may be, the similarity to the methods she employed to Lenoré's own was...irking. What did this witch want from her anyway? Was she working for them? She had to find out for sure.
Carefully unfolding the page in her hands, she began to study it. The page was blank, save for a drawing of a knight wielding a sword and shield. Using the picture as a reference, Lenoré raised her hand to channel her energy, and she began to weave her nightmare. Soon enough, the image of nine ethereal knights began to materialize before her. With a snap of her fingers, the nine phantasms began to corporealize casting an eerie purple light around them.
Lenoré studied her phalanx. Their proportions were a bit...off, far from perfect, but they should be more than enough to free her of the walking dead that pursued her. With a wave of her hand, the Nightmare Phalanx rose into the sky and she watched as they floated off the building, into battle. Lenoré continued watching until they faded out of sight. After a moment passed, the enchantress vanished into a cloud of purple smoke, reappearing a second later on the street below, in four identical images of herself, that now began to disperse through the city.
Lulub3an
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A faint smile
Dedicated Friend
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Posted: Wed Aug 03, 2016 10:03 am
The undead scourge would burst through the shoddy wooden door, piling in over each other and filling the room. Their actions ended there when not a trace of the woman was to be found. There had been a flash of light, a surge of energy! Somehow the woman had gotten away again. Swearing underneath her breath the necromancer stormed across the street and marched up the stairs. She shoved aside the slow zombies and looked around the room. Trinkets shined in the dim light pouring in from the hallway, all mismatched and none appearing to have been from a single set. Running a finger along some of the jewels Talia imagined that this woman was incredibly greedy. These were worth nothing to her, and so she let them be. It seemed that she had left in a hurry, perhaps having seen the dead citizens coming forth to her. Anger coursed through her veins and for a moment all she could see was red. Impulse took over. Letting out a feral growl of frustration Talia would slam her hands on the desk, knocking things over. She dragged her arms across the top and threw everything to the ground. Her rampage extended to whatever she could find, breaking and crushing anything she could. The soulless eyes of her minions stared on, unmoving and uncaring about their master being so distraught.
It took a few minutes but finally Talia regained her senses. She took in a few deep breaths and steadied herself. The game was not over yet. The woman had made the tragic mistake of allowing herself to be seen. The elf reached in to her coat, pulling out a small pouch from the inside. Pulling it apart a strange set of tools was revealed. A ball of clay was selected. Talia closed her eyes and held it in her hands. Dark red energy seeped out from her body, leaking out from her hands and surrounding the malleable material. From memory she began to mold it in the likeness of the woman. In the palms of her hand the clay morphed, bubbling and contorting. It elongated in to the a humanoid shape first, then intricately carved locks of hair trailing down to hits back. Sultry looking eyes, a finely crafted face and full lips. Talia looked down at her creation and nodded her head. It would suffice.
Exiting the inn with her horde drew the attention of many, but she did not care. Clutched in her hand was the effigy, now she merely needed to locate the woman. Pounding the streets she scouted the area, trailing along behind was the horde she created. Turning a corner brought her to a stop. There she was! Raising the doll in her hand she grabbed hold of its leg and twisted it in place. One of Lenore's clones would crumple to the floor, its own appendage having been magically twisted in place. "Seize her!" The witch shouted, pointing to her target. The undead shuffled as fast as they could and clustered around the woman. Savagely they tore at her, going further than Talia had intended. "No, no, no! You fools, back away!" The elf tore at her creations and pushed them away. Something wasn't right. Just as before there was an essence leaking out of the woman who had been trampled by the horde. Talia clenched her hand in to a fist, gritting her teeth and turning away.
Shock crossed her face at what she was seeing. Ethereal knights were floating just above the ground, weapons raised and heading straight for her. "Defend me!" She shouted at her minions, who responded in kind and placed themselves in front of the oncoming assailants. Talia's eyes were wide with the fear of battle, her face etched in a permanent scowl. It was a strange sight to behold. The ghosts had a tangible form. Her undead minions were able to claw at them and tear free their armor, revealing a facsimile of flesh beneath. The knights could slice the limbs of her creatures, thought they would not fall. It was a gruesome battle. Talia refocused herself when she caught the sight of another version of the woman. In an inky darkness she disappeared, and then reappeared further down the road. Again she would manipulate the effigy and force the clones to their knees, dispatching them when she discovered they were fakes.
Another one! Talia would come across her as she emerged from an alleyway, cutting off her path. "No more games! I grow tired of this. You are the fly and I am the spider. This is my web and you are finally caught!" The witch raised the effigy that resembled Lenore so that the other woman could see it clearly. A wicked grin spread across the face, eyes alive and crazed in appearance. The effigy would be crushed in her hand, which in turn would send Lenore's body in to pain. Every muscle would feel the contortion and seize up. Talia tossed the doll to the floor and charged forward, tackling the raven-haired b***h to the ground. In a maddened state she grasped the woman by the neck and clenched. "I have finally found you, wretched creature. For so long - years - I have been hunting you. Now there is no where to run! Tell me how to bring them back!" Talia had become nigh on hysterical. Her breathing was erratic. She was straddling Lenore's body on the ground, bent over her form and sneering at her. The sounds of battle were not far off. Every time the knights tried to break away the undead would follow them, regardless of wounds and cease their movements.
Energy 1325 Stats 3/10 Equipment - Passives
• Dementia This ability allows them to store a tiny fraction of Justor's magic into their own body. The result is simple and yet very efficient. Not only are their casting times reduced by one post, but their spells are increased in size and range (and speed... slightly). This makes their magic harder to dodge, further solidifying them as the most efficient magic-users. The rate at which size/range are increased = add 1/3 of the base. So, 15 feet in length would become 20 feet in length. Speed is increased by about 1/5th, although this can become overwhelming if you constantly sling spells.
• Mania *Can be used at any time The Dark Elves may project their immediate conscious into the moonlight, and projecting your conscious into very nearby mana allows you to directly connect to Justor's energy. This allows for a wide-range of spells that are not possible with other bloodlines, simply in concept. Furthermore, these spells are all free of energy, as they use the mana nearby, not your own reserves.
These abilities, as listed: The Dance of Veils By projecting your magical conscious somewhere else, a very quick and easy process, you may warp to that location, similar to a teleport. Upon disappearing, your location is wrapped in a dusk-colored shroud, and re-appearing is animated by a bright white flash. Of course, this is a very useful spell, but it may only be done once every other post. You can only teleport up to twenty feet away. It should be noted that you only project your [magical conscious] here, meaning you don't go blank or lose concentration while using this.
• The Bride of Justor In legend, it is told that the very first Dark Elf, Cirstec, was made into a demi-goddess by Justor, brought up to be his bride. This ability conjures her influence in the mana rather than his, allowing for a unique spell. Cirstec will allow you to twist the light around you, making you invisible to the enemy's eyes. Those with good hearing/smell can still sense you, but many people will be unable. Striking, casting or moving too quickly will break this ability. This means all you can really do is walk. It's useful when cornered, as it's a very potent hiding skill. It's also useful when trying to use a surprise attack, although the technique will end the moment you begin the attack. The most common use of Cirstec's shroud is waiting for the cooldown on the Veil (teleportation) to come off, so that you may make distance between you and the target. The Veil will not end the shroud until it has already teleported you.
• I am loved This is a legendary ability of the Dark Elves, only spoken of in stories for its heartwarming take on the relationship of Justor, his bride, and their children. If a dark elf is to die, their light fading and their blood running cold, they may call upon their God and hope that he answers. Generate a number between 1-3. If it's two, Justor will personally project his own power into the mana and restore you, a divine intervention only made possible through the love between the elves and their god. If anything other than two, he will not hear you, and you are on your own. This can only be attempted once a month in earth time.
• Death Sense Necromancers have the keen ability to sense death. Be it something already dead, something recently dead, something about to die, etc. They will always know when ghosts are around them. This does not mean they can determine who it is nor is it able to lead them to the location of a Dead RPC they do not know about.
• I am yours Talia Kane's familiar often chooses the form of a snake. It is able to communicate with her in ways no one else can, by emotion, by thought, by touch, etc. Even if there is distance between them they are of a shared mind, for the familiar is an extension of her. It comes with 500 energy of its own kind. The energy signature is the same as Talia's, therefore indecipherable from her own by anyone who can sense energy. The familiar can be destroyed by attacks of equal rank to it, though it will always reform and return to Talia. At C-rank it takes merely a post for it to return. For each rank above that the count is increased, capping at 3 posts. Every time the familiar dies its energy pool is depleted by 100. It recharges when the pool is drained, though it must be outside of battle to do so. The familiar can act as a conduit for Talia's spells, though the energy withdrawal comes from her own pool when casting spells not related to the talent.
Technique
Posted: Mon Aug 08, 2016 7:10 am
é
The sounds of battle continued to ring on in the background. Lenoré's head was reeling in pain and confusion. The Witch had potent magic. Potent enough to be able to take out all of Lenoré's mirror images with a single effigy. Her spell caused Lenoré to, for an instant, lose all control over her body. It was painful. Extremely painful. A kind of pain that she had never felt before, and now the woman was straddling her, cold, pale hands around her neck, choking her while shouting nonsense. "Get...off...you...b***h!" Lenoré choked.
She honestly had not the slightest clue of what the woman was screaming about. Lenoré had only just escaped from her hell no more than six months ago. How could anyone have been searching for her for “years”? It was just so ridiculous. It made no sense. And now the wretch had mounted her, beating her savagely, like an animal. Lenoré struggled underneath the woman, who she realized for the first time, was not at all human, but an elf, who although, she was a bit taller and lithe, she felt as if she had more upper body strength, and could probably manage to throw her off if she could just get her hands free…
Lenoré stopped struggling and began to extend her concentration towards the woman on top of her. Her conscious extended outwards, like mental tendrils that extruded from her mind and connected her center of being to the woman’s own. She began to poke and prod at the witch’s mind with her own. Being inside someone’s head was always quite the sensation. It felt so exhilarating, to have control over a person’s central nervous system. To be able to make one feel what you want them to, believe what you want them to. To be able to make one forget their name, how to fight, how to resist. But the sensation Lenoré loved the most was making someone feel anguish and suffering. Having power over someone was a marvelous feeling, however this time it was different.
The elf’s mind was twisted. There was a deep rooted paranoia, and a sense of something else...corruption? She did not know why, but Lenoré almost felt pity for the woman, had she not been trying to kill her all night long. Crazy or not, you will bow before me she thought to herself, bringing her anger and frustration towards the woman to the forefront. She wrapped her consciousness around the elf’s brain stem and squeezed, hard, causing the elf’s smooth, porcelain-like face to blanken, and her iron-like grip to loosen for an instant.
Lenoré did not miss a beat. As soon as she saw the elf convulse from the mental assault she severed her link with her, and managed to pull her arms free from underneath the woman’s legs. She dug her manicured hands into the elf’s face, and with all her strength pushed her off into the ground beside her. The elf shouted and hurried to her feet, but Lenoré was slightly faster. With a flourish of her hand, spectral chains materialized and began to entwine rapidly around the Necromancer’s body, causing to fall over, subdued. She was livid, shouting obscenities in her native tongue, while Lenoré stood over her mockingly preening as she smoothed her dress.. Although utterly disgusted with the “savage” voodoo b***h before her, she had no interest in harming her. Lenoré needed answers from the Witch, and there was also still the matter of the undead/spectre war currently raging in the background. She needed her to cooperate.
Lenoré turned towards the woman, whose eyes were glowering back at her with rage. Her soldiers were managing to keep the undead at bay, but how much longer until the began to shatter? She only hoped when they do, they will take a few of those corpses with them. Readying herself, she grasped the hand mirror she brought from her room in one hand, and stretched her other hand towards the woman before her.
”Listen to me very carefully,” Lenoré spoke, taking on a domineering tone now that she had the advantage. "Whatever squalor and despair your pathetic little life has been able to tolerate until this point…is nothing compared to the pain and misery I can inflict if you make me unhappy. You will dismiss your riffraff, and I will have answers.”
The witch said nothing, her hateful glare unbreaking. Lenoré began to feel nervous. She tightened her grip on the mirror "How cute! You think silence to be bravery, not stupidity! Do not test me. Tell me who you are, and why you pursue me."
Lulub3an
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Posted: Mon Aug 15, 2016 10:39 am
Power. That was what she was feeling as she squeezed harder and harder. Ecstasy coursed through her veins seeing Lenoré's veins popping out as her body struggled to pull in air past the tight grip over her throat. The way her eyes started to roll backward. Death, it was so close. A veil waiting to be slipped over this vile woman. All she needed to do was let go her earthly tethers and accept it. Succumb! Get...off...you...b***h! A bolt of confusion arched through Talia. How very vulgar of the woman to say. From what she remembered the raven haired witch had always been elegantly evil. Maybe being so close to her end had torn away the facade and exposed her true colors. Finally, the struggle was over. So ready was the elf to hail her minions so that they may cart away the corpse and prepare it for its second coming. She was totally unprepared for the assault on her mental faculties.
Talia's jaw suddenly clenched and her entire body became rigid. Every muscle in her body felt like they were flexing at once. Her vision began to blur as some thing enveloped her mind and squeezed tighter than ever. Synapses misfired, leaving the body unsure of the next step. Pain from claws digging in to her face did not register as her body shivered uncontrollably. Inside the shell that had become her body Talia screamed in rage, unable to believe she had become so vulnerable. Slowly her senses came too, far later than needed. Now she was at Lenoré's mercy. The ethereal chains held firm and fast. The elf would struggle against her binds, wrapping her hands around them and tugging with all her might. While her strength was weak, her magic was not. The necrosis seeped from her as she began to word a spell in a strange tongue. Those chains would begin to burn and melt beneath the acidic energy.
Talia ceased and glared at Lenoré in complete disbelief. How was it this woman did not remember who she was. Sure, a few years had passed but to completely forget her deeds? No. It could not be so. Talia felt her mind cracking a bit more, her logic and reasoning slipping and giving way to the touch of Kor'vah. "NO!" She shouted hard enough to cause her voice to crack and her throat to feel the pain. Her eyes had lost the sparkle of sentience. The human would get a glimpse of Talia's burden, it echoed the face of madness. A bubble of laughter escaped reddened lips at the sight of herself through the mirror. Talia's body slackened, the chains clinking against one another as they unhinged from themselves and fell to the floor. "Impossible to forget, the deaths of so many. Y-You came and promised salvation. So many lives..." The words poured out of her rapidly and without any real structure. "You stole them. Tore away their souls so easily, like if they never mattered to anyone. I can hear them screaming, begging to be saved! Gone, gone away and leaving me to chase them." Suddenly she stopped moving and speaking. Slowly Talia lifted her head. Her senses had returned, and with it the anger that she had felt for years. "I have searched for years to find you. Dead end after false lead. Across the very world I have traveled and here we finally stand. Why do I pursue you? So that I may rip those souls out of your wretched body and watch you crumble to dust the same way that they did! Desiccated and forgotten by the world!" Somewhere along her monologue tears had welled in her eyes and spilled over. They free fell from her eyes, leaving wet trails down her cheeks. An untold agony so deep within her had started it all and never did it leave. Talia could only be free from the pain when the witch who had done this to her lay dead at her feet. No matter what she had to do to get there, it would be righteous. Justor had promised her in the dead of night, when only the moon light bathed her in its glory. He had given her the tools, the strength to carve away the decay and bring them back. All she needed was their souls and they would be saved. Talia would be free.
Energy 1325 Stats 3/10 Equipment - Passives
• Dementia This ability allows them to store a tiny fraction of Justor's magic into their own body. The result is simple and yet very efficient. Not only are their casting times reduced by one post, but their spells are increased in size and range (and speed... slightly). This makes their magic harder to dodge, further solidifying them as the most efficient magic-users. The rate at which size/range are increased = add 1/3 of the base. So, 15 feet in length would become 20 feet in length. Speed is increased by about 1/5th, although this can become overwhelming if you constantly sling spells.
• Mania *Can be used at any time The Dark Elves may project their immediate conscious into the moonlight, and projecting your conscious into very nearby mana allows you to directly connect to Justor's energy. This allows for a wide-range of spells that are not possible with other bloodlines, simply in concept. Furthermore, these spells are all free of energy, as they use the mana nearby, not your own reserves.
These abilities, as listed: The Dance of Veils By projecting your magical conscious somewhere else, a very quick and easy process, you may warp to that location, similar to a teleport. Upon disappearing, your location is wrapped in a dusk-colored shroud, and re-appearing is animated by a bright white flash. Of course, this is a very useful spell, but it may only be done once every other post. You can only teleport up to twenty feet away. It should be noted that you only project your [magical conscious] here, meaning you don't go blank or lose concentration while using this.
• The Bride of Justor In legend, it is told that the very first Dark Elf, Cirstec, was made into a demi-goddess by Justor, brought up to be his bride. This ability conjures her influence in the mana rather than his, allowing for a unique spell. Cirstec will allow you to twist the light around you, making you invisible to the enemy's eyes. Those with good hearing/smell can still sense you, but many people will be unable. Striking, casting or moving too quickly will break this ability. This means all you can really do is walk. It's useful when cornered, as it's a very potent hiding skill. It's also useful when trying to use a surprise attack, although the technique will end the moment you begin the attack. The most common use of Cirstec's shroud is waiting for the cooldown on the Veil (teleportation) to come off, so that you may make distance between you and the target. The Veil will not end the shroud until it has already teleported you.
• I am loved This is a legendary ability of the Dark Elves, only spoken of in stories for its heartwarming take on the relationship of Justor, his bride, and their children. If a dark elf is to die, their light fading and their blood running cold, they may call upon their God and hope that he answers. Generate a number between 1-3. If it's two, Justor will personally project his own power into the mana and restore you, a divine intervention only made possible through the love between the elves and their god. If anything other than two, he will not hear you, and you are on your own. This can only be attempted once a month in earth time.
• Death Sense Necromancers have the keen ability to sense death. Be it something already dead, something recently dead, something about to die, etc. They will always know when ghosts are around them. This does not mean they can determine who it is nor is it able to lead them to the location of a Dead RPC they do not know about.
• I am yours Talia Kane's familiar often chooses the form of a snake. It is able to communicate with her in ways no one else can, by emotion, by thought, by touch, etc. Even if there is distance between them they are of a shared mind, for the familiar is an extension of her. It comes with 500 energy of its own kind. The energy signature is the same as Talia's, therefore indecipherable from her own by anyone who can sense energy. The familiar can be destroyed by attacks of equal rank to it, though it will always reform and return to Talia. At C-rank it takes merely a post for it to return. For each rank above that the count is increased, capping at 3 posts. Every time the familiar dies its energy pool is depleted by 100. It recharges when the pool is drained, though it must be outside of battle to do so. The familiar can act as a conduit for Talia's spells, though the energy withdrawal comes from her own pool when casting spells not related to the talent.
Technique
Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2016 10:14 pm
[Timeline uh.... Dunno if it should be past or future.]
Port Acedia. To the port of Sloth, Nai entered. Although, despite its name, the bustling trade center was anything but apathetic. There was money to be made and people willing to put forth their entire beings to make it.
Then there was Nai. Her unhurried movements and figure cloaked completely in black stuck out like a sore thumb in the otherwise colorful crowd. A dull figure among those much more interesting. Would the contrast draw attention or would the boring merely be swallowed by the entertaining?
It turned out that the correct answer was that the shady would be suspected by the law. Before reaching her destination, Nai found her path blocked by a guard in uniform. To be fair, this was one of the higher end streets of Port Acedia and Nai's appearance all but screamed criminal trouble.
"Are you lost?" the soldier asked gruffly. Nai stopped and silently observed the guard from beneath the hood of her coat, Understandably, Nai's silence did nothing to help redeem her suspicious attire. If anything, it annoyed the impatient guard, who barked, "What? Are you mute?!" and then shouted, "Can you hear me?!". Nai chanced that maybe if the guard thought that she was deaf and mute then she'd be left alone. The guard growled, unsure if maybe she had really picked a fight with someone disabled or if she was just being made a fool of. She roughly shook the shadowy stranger by the shoulders and asked with exaggerated enunciation, "Hey! Hey! Can. You. Hear. Me?". Nai stared blankly at the guard.
Stepping foot off one of the many large boats going through Port Acedia, Constantine allowed his beautiful golden eyes to dance around the area silently, taking in the sights around him before stepping down the ramp leading to the actual docks themselves. One of his many goals in the world was to see all that it had to offer people, so after he'd gone to Yuran with Amias and Alridch he decided to make good on the goal, and began exploring the many different cities that he could access easily, which in this case happened to be The Aramilian Empire, having been near a port that was heading straight here he decided it would be easier to use this boat than wait around for one heading somewhere else. Bringing his hand up to run through his long brown hair the male looked to the side, wind rushing through his long locks annoyingly as he looked around once more.
Hearing the sound of someone shouting off to the side he turned to look at the person, seeing a woman dressed in what he assumed was the usual guard outfit given the overall appearance of her garb, shaking a cloaked person somewhat rudely while screaming at them. Raising a single eyebrow he strode forward slowly, his large armored boots clanking with each step he took forward towards them. He towered over the two standing before him, his large imposing frame seemingly blocking out what little light was behind him before he spoke in a calm tone, reaching forward to gently grab the guards hand to stop her from shaking the person. "Excuse me ma'am, but I don't think the person you're currently shaking is in any mood to speak to you. I think it might be a good idea to let her go and just watch out in case she does anything suspicious." Giving his usual kind smile the brown-haired man removed his hand from her wrist, making sure he didn't squeeze too hard before stepping back slightly in case the guard turned on him instead, though he doubted she would. Most people could feel the power that he had in his body and it deterred them immensely, just like he assumed the woman before him would react.
• Angelic Fervor The Nephilim regenerate faster than any of the angelic brethren. They regenerate all minor wounds almost instantly, and by Expert rank they can regenerate mangled limbs. By master they can survive fatal blows and regenerate complete limbs. However, total destruction of their brain, decapitation, or the almost complete destruction of their body will kill them. Thus, their regeneration falls behind Fairhair significantly.
• Seeker of Evil The Nephilim have astounding perceptive capabilities. They can sense evil and read energy signatures. They can perceive the minute flow of movements within an enemy's body, making them exceptionally skilled swordsmen. They can tell if someone is of a holy or unholy bloodline, and use this knowledge accordingly.
• Might For a Nephilim, strength matters far more than speed. The higher your strength, the larger your abilities, the more durable your physical body and your armor, and the stronger the holy effects of your attacks and weapons will be. While most tend to prefer outspeeding their opponents and looking for an instant-killing method, you rely on brutalizing the opponent and shutting down their advances. Considering your high extrasensory capabilities, you can often shut down a whole combo with a mere counterswing of your blade. Contact with it can leave foes knocked back and dazed.
• The Claim Passive Often, every knight has a single blade that defines his victories. This single blade that the knight has Claimed is one rank higher than the user and scales with them is more powerful than the average custom weapon of its rank. Each Claimed weapon must also be approved in the Custom Weapons thread.
• Devour Passive The ability to steal the life force of another to replenish your PP meter seems almost unholy. However, the transfer is anything but. Life is pure and raw, and the Reaver understands that. As such, the life transferring ability becomes a part of of every strike made by the Reaver. Direct contact is not necessary, as the Reaver has developed not only the ability to sense pain coming from others, but the ability to absorb the pain from several yards away. The range is limited to the area that the user is in. Not limited to opponents.
Based on the skill that is used, the user regenerates a certain amount of pain points. E Ranked: 5 Points D Ranked: 15 Points C Ranked: 35 Points B Ranked: 60 Points A Ranked: 85 Points S Ranked: 100 Points SS Ranked: 200 Points
• Pain Passive The Reaver projects a constant aura (radius of 10 meters) that seeps into anyone the user wishes and causes them rather mild pain. For every person infected, the user gain back D Ranked Power Points, thanks to Devour. This attack is fully capable of being boosted, though once boosted, the cost in power points will equal one rank below what you are receiving. If it is boosted to B Rank, it costs C Rank to use.
• Your Pain is My Drug Passive As long as the user is inflicting pain on another, the user gains a +1/+1 to stats. The user feeds off of this pain, and the effect is most definitely stackable for every enemy.
Technique Used:
Company:
HeadlessKoko
Posted: Thu Aug 25, 2016 3:19 am
[Timeline uh.... Dunno if it should be past or future.]
Nai's eyes flicked over to the man with golden eyes and brown locks. She registered, His build was superhuman and he emanated strength that the guardswoman did not. Nai ended, not finding any reason to bother deciding which of the large, powerful races he could be from.
When Nai looked back at the guard, the soldier had already begun backing off. Stubborn defiance made itself clear on her face, to the point that even Nai could easily recognize it.
Meanwhile, a crowd had begun to gather, and despite Nai's suspicious appearance, her savior's(?) charm gathered the support of the majority. Whispers about how brutish the guard was to pick on someone mute or how narrow-minded she must be to pick on someone just because of their appearance could be heard from the impromptu audience.
The soldier wasn't going to push her luck. She had no proof that Nai was doing anything wrong. Neither did she have the guts to act when the public was against her. Slowly, she was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, she had let her temper get the better of her.
Nai remained silent. She had heard the gossip that she was mute, and she intended to take full advantage of it.
Unwilling to admit that she had made a mistake, the solider hid her backpedaling with a thin veil of rough manners, "Feh, I don't have the time to spare to watch one little street tramp. I was just making sure she wouldn't cause any trouble. Anyways, I suggest you leave, there's probably nothing you can afford in this district, anyways." Before anyone could question her logic, the grumpy guard turned and leaved. With the soldier's leave, the scene ended and the rest of the crowd slowly dissipated back to their business.
The timely help was lucky. It had greatly cut the time spent on the encounter with the soldier. However, Nai was too wary to attribute a meeting to just pure coincidence and good will. True, she had learned it was possible, but old caution stuck fast. The hooded woman waited to see if this helpful stranger had anything he wanted from her.
The assassin that Constantine had just saved was quite clearly a female. However, her full-body coat hid most other details. Black gloves and boots only completed the picture of a human shrouded in shadows. It was mostly safe to bet that she wasn't wearing any heavy armor, but it was impossible to tell if she had the soft body of a mage, the heavily toned body of a hands-on fighter, or anything in between. A single longsword of no special make was visible on Nai's body. All other weapons were hidden. Constantine's height only made it harder for him to identify any distinguishing features. He was so tall that all he saw of Nai's face was probably the top of her hood. If he stooped down to her eye level, he might just make out black eyes and hair behind lowered hood and raised collar. A bland rucksack that Nai carried over her shoulder would give Constantine reason to think that she was a traveler.
Watching the guard before him with a calm gaze, Constantine couldn't help but chuckle somewhat embarrassed by the fact that just him speaking and his reasoning was enough to garner a large crowd expressing their outrage at the woman for her rude way of questioning someone who seemed to be mute, and was simply dressed like a normal traveler. He'd made sure to keep his body language somewhat less threatening than usual; in the end he didn't want to threaten the guard to stop her questioning of someone, and instead just wanted to make her see reason that someones way of dressing and lack of responding was no reason to roughly shake and yell at someone. Though even he had to admit that the way she was dressed and the lack of any response; even just a shake or nod of her head, was off putting to him, but then again he'd seen worse in the Royal Guard back in Nocturne. When the guard began to back away in what he assumed was fear, only to turn around and try to act tough once more he just shook his head, letting out a soft sigh of annoyance at her brash way of acting. It was clear that she was either a newer recruit to the guard, or she was an extremely old recruit; which was why she had the rough 'I'm right you're wrong' attitude that he saw in a lot of people.
Smiling kindly to the crowd that had gathered, Constantine wished them all a good day and returned his gaze to the darkly dressed woman from before. Shifting his body weight slightly he crouched down a bit, looking her in the eyes before giving her a kind smile and speaking towards her. "I don't know if you truly are mute or not, but I'm glad that no trouble was started. I couldn't stand by and watch a Guard treat someone as poorly as that woman was, my pride as a Knight wouldn't allow it. My names Constantine Marquise, even if you can't respond it's nice to meet you. I hope you don't mind if I ask but; are you traveling from somewhere? It's been my dream since a small boy to travel the world, I could use some tips on good places to go if you are." With that said he fell silent, the smile staying on his face as he looked at her. He leaned back on his heel slightly, allowing him to take up a more comfortably relaxed stance instead of the usual straight body hardass military stance that he kept when walking around; that was mostly just to keep people from approaching him to ask for money or whatever else people asked for. He made sure to keep an eye on her body language and muscle movements, just in case for some reason she decided to attack with the longsword clasped at her hip.
• Angelic Fervor The Nephilim regenerate faster than any of the angelic brethren. They regenerate all minor wounds almost instantly, and by Expert rank they can regenerate mangled limbs. By master they can survive fatal blows and regenerate complete limbs. However, total destruction of their brain, decapitation, or the almost complete destruction of their body will kill them. Thus, their regeneration falls behind Fairhair significantly.
• Seeker of Evil The Nephilim have astounding perceptive capabilities. They can sense evil and read energy signatures. They can perceive the minute flow of movements within an enemy's body, making them exceptionally skilled swordsmen. They can tell if someone is of a holy or unholy bloodline, and use this knowledge accordingly.
• Might For a Nephilim, strength matters far more than speed. The higher your strength, the larger your abilities, the more durable your physical body and your armor, and the stronger the holy effects of your attacks and weapons will be. While most tend to prefer outspeeding their opponents and looking for an instant-killing method, you rely on brutalizing the opponent and shutting down their advances. Considering your high extrasensory capabilities, you can often shut down a whole combo with a mere counterswing of your blade. Contact with it can leave foes knocked back and dazed.
• The Claim Passive Often, every knight has a single blade that defines his victories. This single blade that the knight has Claimed is one rank higher than the user and scales with them is more powerful than the average custom weapon of its rank. Each Claimed weapon must also be approved in the Custom Weapons thread.
• Devour Passive The ability to steal the life force of another to replenish your PP meter seems almost unholy. However, the transfer is anything but. Life is pure and raw, and the Reaver understands that. As such, the life transferring ability becomes a part of of every strike made by the Reaver. Direct contact is not necessary, as the Reaver has developed not only the ability to sense pain coming from others, but the ability to absorb the pain from several yards away. The range is limited to the area that the user is in. Not limited to opponents.
Based on the skill that is used, the user regenerates a certain amount of pain points. E Ranked: 5 Points D Ranked: 15 Points C Ranked: 35 Points B Ranked: 60 Points A Ranked: 85 Points S Ranked: 100 Points SS Ranked: 200 Points
• Pain Passive The Reaver projects a constant aura (radius of 10 meters) that seeps into anyone the user wishes and causes them rather mild pain. For every person infected, the user gain back D Ranked Power Points, thanks to Devour. This attack is fully capable of being boosted, though once boosted, the cost in power points will equal one rank below what you are receiving. If it is boosted to B Rank, it costs C Rank to use.
• Your Pain is My Drug Passive As long as the user is inflicting pain on another, the user gains a +1/+1 to stats. The user feeds off of this pain, and the effect is most definitely stackable for every enemy.
Technique Used:
Company:
HeadlessKoko
Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2016 7:15 pm
[ Timeline Future ]
The encounter was bothersome, and if Nai could avoid any future repeats, she would. Removing her hood might solve the problem, make her seem less suspicious. She didn't care but that didn't mean that she didn't know about how people tended to perceive certain visual cues. However, she disliked revealing her face. That is, as much as she could dislike anything.
". . ."
Then there was this guy staring at her face. Unlike the rest of the crowd, he hadn't lost interest in the depressingly dressed stranger. She stared him dead-on. Not to prove a point but because it wasn't worth the effort to look elsewhere, not even to turn her eyeballs elsewhere. His face was the sort that did very well in drawing positive attention, but his build also made sure he could convince others to give space when he wanted to. A knight? Combined with his attire and muscle build, Nai categorized him as a tank until proven otherwise.
She didn't want needless waste, and the words this man spoke fell into the category of the needlessly difficult. Small talk, that was all. Coming up with a response took too much energy. <'Good places'?> Nai briefly tried in case this was the easiest way out. She could not even understand the question. Immediately, replying was discarded. She would just leave. That had always been the easiest option.
Except she had yet to solve the dilemma of walking into another suspicious guard with some sort of need to yell and take up her time. In a sudden jump, her mind pieced it all together. Taking the time to go down each detail one-by-one would be too much work.
Nai's eyes moved for the first time. In fact, they were the first of anything of hers to move since Constantine had stooped to look at her. By now, the golden-eyed man was standing back from her. Her vision darted around with a practiced movement to various parts of Constantine's body in a pattern that over a decade of experience had proved was most efficient. Her reassessment took only as long as it took her eyes to finish moving. She knew and she didn't want to expend the energy to doubt in this particular case.
There was only one new thing she observed. Behind his relaxed stance was guarded observation. This wasn't just some privileged, if skilled, knight from a peaceful country. Perhaps it was a natural tendency for caution or perhaps he had reason in experience. Nai felt inclined to believe the latter for reasons that weren't worth dwelling on.
Nai couldn't answer Constantine's question, but the place she wished to go to would probably provide answers he could use. She would benefit from his company--he ensured that she wouldn't be bothered--and his acquaintance--tanks were a valuable ally to any that fought like her and it was rare for one to appear right in her face.
Constantine would only be waiting for a few seconds before receiving Nai's silent reply. The speed of the assassin's thoughts had been honed with years under the influence of a monster that hated anything unnecessary and even more years under the constant threat of danger lurking around every corner.
Nai looked Constantine dead in the eye. This time it was on purpose. She even put in the effort to move her eyes in order to accomplish this taks. Her eyes were black and clear, deep and devoid completely of any emotion. She returned his smile with monotonous words, "Carter's Cartography might help." Without any more explanation, Nai turned and walked two steps before looking behind her. It wasn't to see what Constantine decided. From what little Nai knew of social cues, this sort of body language was usually understood as a silent "follow me."
Regardless of his decision, Nai would begin walking again shortly.
Tilting his head to the side slightly, Constantine took in the sight of the girls eyes standing in front of him. They were blank, something he was used to when he was younger; his master always had that look in his eyes whenever he messed up during training or in a mission, though that mans gaze was blank due to disappointment; with the girl in front of him it seemed to be that she simply didn't care enough to have emotions when it came to talking with those around her.
Either that or she just had naturally dull eyes, in which case that would be a first for him, not that it was strange to see; he'd seen a lot of different things in his time wandering around the world, but completely empty eyes were something he'd never seen before. He could tell from the way her gaze shifted towards him that she wasn't just moving her eyes to meet his own out of a mutual respect, just from her body language; or lack thereof, and her overall aura of not caring he knew she wouldn't meet his eyes for that reason. She most likely was trying to get a reading on him based on his appearance and personality shown so far, not that doing that was bad by any means.
After a second he relaxed his body briefly, his muscles unwinding from the tense state they were in previously. When she spoke in an apathetic tone towards him the brown-haired male merely blinked in a response, finding it somewhat amusing that she was even willing to mention a good place given her apathy towards seemingly everything in the world. When she started walking away slowly before looking back at him blankly, Constantine let out a deep laugh; finding her actions amusing in a strange way. He could tell she wasn't telling him this simply out of some kindness, he was smart enough to deduce the benefits of having someone of his stature and social status with her while she moved through the city. Considering the guard from before almost immediately backed down upon his confrontation towards her, having him around would make it easier to travel around without the guards questioning her or him. Giving a slight smile the male began walking at a slow pace to catch up to her, knowing he could keep up with her regardless of her walking pace; one of the benefits of being tall is the naturally large stride. "Sounds like an interesting place, I'll look forward to seeing it." With that said he fell into a natural pace, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he did so; finding the whole situation rather amusing.
• Angelic Fervor The Nephilim regenerate faster than any of the angelic brethren. They regenerate all minor wounds almost instantly, and by Expert rank they can regenerate mangled limbs. By master they can survive fatal blows and regenerate complete limbs. However, total destruction of their brain, decapitation, or the almost complete destruction of their body will kill them. Thus, their regeneration falls behind Fairhair significantly.
• Seeker of Evil The Nephilim have astounding perceptive capabilities. They can sense evil and read energy signatures. They can perceive the minute flow of movements within an enemy's body, making them exceptionally skilled swordsmen. They can tell if someone is of a holy or unholy bloodline, and use this knowledge accordingly.
• Might For a Nephilim, strength matters far more than speed. The higher your strength, the larger your abilities, the more durable your physical body and your armor, and the stronger the holy effects of your attacks and weapons will be. While most tend to prefer outspeeding their opponents and looking for an instant-killing method, you rely on brutalizing the opponent and shutting down their advances. Considering your high extrasensory capabilities, you can often shut down a whole combo with a mere counterswing of your blade. Contact with it can leave foes knocked back and dazed.
• The Claim Passive Often, every knight has a single blade that defines his victories. This single blade that the knight has Claimed is one rank higher than the user and scales with them is more powerful than the average custom weapon of its rank. Each Claimed weapon must also be approved in the Custom Weapons thread.
• Devour Passive The ability to steal the life force of another to replenish your PP meter seems almost unholy. However, the transfer is anything but. Life is pure and raw, and the Reaver understands that. As such, the life transferring ability becomes a part of of every strike made by the Reaver. Direct contact is not necessary, as the Reaver has developed not only the ability to sense pain coming from others, but the ability to absorb the pain from several yards away. The range is limited to the area that the user is in. Not limited to opponents.
Based on the skill that is used, the user regenerates a certain amount of pain points. E Ranked: 5 Points D Ranked: 15 Points C Ranked: 35 Points B Ranked: 60 Points A Ranked: 85 Points S Ranked: 100 Points SS Ranked: 200 Points
• Pain Passive The Reaver projects a constant aura (radius of 10 meters) that seeps into anyone the user wishes and causes them rather mild pain. For every person infected, the user gain back D Ranked Power Points, thanks to Devour. This attack is fully capable of being boosted, though once boosted, the cost in power points will equal one rank below what you are receiving. If it is boosted to B Rank, it costs C Rank to use.
• Your Pain is My Drug Passive As long as the user is inflicting pain on another, the user gains a +1/+1 to stats. The user feeds off of this pain, and the effect is most definitely stackable for every enemy.
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2016 1:43 am
[ Timeline Future ]
Nai trekked deeper into the more luxurious sections of Port Acedia. She stepped lightly at a pace that middled between wasting no time and wasting no energy. The crowds thinned, but even here there was good bustle. A small hub for the rich, of sorts, just as the rest of the port was a hub for everyone else. The rough stone streets gave way to... more stone streets. However, these were much less worn, less littered, and looked like they were polished regularly. If it hadn't for the knight striding besides her, Nai would have no doubt been stopped once more. With her peripheral vision, she caught more than one guard staring at her suspiciously before noticing the honest looking knight following her and changing their minds. High-end stores filled the streets selling clothes and foreign luxuries. Built on reputation more than crude advertisement, there were no signs blaring limited edition specialties or lowered prices. The only indication of what they offered were the wares displayed in the windows and the names of their shops: stately and certain.
Nai rounded a corner and then stopped suddenly. Her eyes skimmed the intersection. Her mind double checked the mental map of this unfamiliar place, not wanting to have to double back or walk unnecessarily. A mundane reason and there were no signs to hint that Nai had stopped because of something dangerous. Then again, nothing about her body language implied that this was just a relaxed stop, either. She held herself loosely ready for anything that might come. For someone so intent on not using energy, "relax" didn't appear to be in her vocabulary.
