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The Committee Staff Gaian
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 Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2008 1:18 pm
Background
I has been decades the two races, vampires and werewolves have been spilling blood of the opponent their own good in the town of Elanesse. It still continues. It's been clear, that this conflict will last until either side of the race is extinct. But which will that be?
The story will take place in the streets, the pubs, trains, in public places. To avoid on-sided story, bases of each race won't be allowed.
Remember the fights don't just start up. It happens after a few conversations, and there are those that wish the two races to shake hands for peaceful relationship.
Races
arrow Vampires
arrow Werewolves
Profile Code
wahmbulance PM me the profiles
[b]Username:[/b] (Gaia name)
[b]Name:[/b] (Character name)
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Race:[/b] (vampire/werewolf?)
[b]Weapons:[/b](it's the modern times. Any weapon used today, but no godly weapons - e.g. no machine guns :/ )
[b]Description/Appearance:[/b] (either/both written or a picture)
[b]Bio:[/b]
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Posted: Wed Jul 30, 2008 1:23 pm
Accepted ProfilesMiro Kantora Username: Miro Kantora Name: Wessiera Ravenwing Age: 300 (Appears 21) Gender: Male Race: Vampire Weapons: A single pistol And his knifeDescription/Appearance: Wessiera RavenwingBio: Wessiera was still young, not 13 when his mother was attacked by a vicious band of werewolves and died. Since his father had run off shortly after his birth for some reason that Wessiera was never told, he was taken in by an old human couple. By the time he had hit puberty and thus had begun to get his vampire cravings his human 'parents' had past away. So he had learned about how to satisfy his cravings all alone, using stray cats and rats whenever he could. He continued in this fashion until he stumbled across a battle between another vampire and a werewolf. The vampire had won the battle and discovered the horror-stricken boy. Assuming the boy was human the vampire attacked, but discovered that the boy was one of his own kind. So the vampire took Wessiera under his wing and taught him the art of combat and gunman-ship. But they had been assaulted by a band of rabid werewolves and his teacher had been mortally wounded. Since then Wessiera has wondered around the town driven by the killing of werewolves, since they had been the cause of his loneliness, and by the search of his father. g e n e t ii c -- D3SiiGN Username: g e n e t ii c -- D3SiiGN
Name: Matilda Marie Severn
Age: Around three-hundred twenty-seven and two quarters, so she figures. Appears to be roughly around her early-mid twenties.
Gender: Female
Race: Vampire
Weapons: Shotgun, as well as her b*****d sword, Longclaw.
Description/Appearance: [♥]
Bio: First off-- don't call her 'Matilda' . She will probably stab you. She prefers to be called 'Mat'. Anyways, Mat was abandoned pretty much right when she was born. Left on the doorstep of some monastery a good three hundred thirty years ago, Mat was taken in by the good-hearted priests. She learned the craft of swordsmanship here, though the priests were not violent men. 'Aye, I learned it, for all the good it did me' she would tell you; for roughly thirteen years after being taken in by these priests they were slaughtered-- but not by werewolves. Some crazed, starving, vampire stumbled upon the secluded monastery; and he soon fed upon the gushing blood of the holy men. By some cruel twist of thought, he spared Mat's life-- only to make her a vampire.
Since then, she doesn't exactly care who or what she kills. She more has the sense of 'if it tries to kill me, I'll kill it first', so she does whatever the hell floats her boat at the moment; even if that boat floats upon the spilled blood of her own kind. But she doesn't kill needlessly-- only in self-defense or in defense of those she cares about. And 'those she cares about' number few. She prefers to feed on birds, and keeps crows for this purpose. Also has a taste for whiskey, often drinking many men under the table. She doesn't seem to get well and truly drunk, however; instead having monstrous hangovers days later. c h a o s f i s h Username: c h a o s f i s h Name: Rachael "Lamb" Walker Age: 248 (Appears to be 16) Gender: Female Race: Vampire Weapons: Twin Beretta Pistols (Model 96), Machete Description/Appearance: LambBio: Rachael was born in 1760 in America to a farmer and his young wife. Fourteen years later she found herself married to a man name Michael and only a year after that, he was taken away from her. The Revolutionary War had begun and all she could do to help was "tend the sick and wounded". One day, about a year after the war began, she got fed up with it and cut her hair and disguised herself as a man so she could ship out with a regiment that would be joining her husband's on the battlefield. Only a month after that, on July 4th, 1776, she was shot and taken back to the nearest army hospital for medical attention. Her doctor quickly discovered she was a woman, but told no one. Instead, he discovered her identity and learned everything he could about her husband. One day, he took her to a private room to talk. The following insued: "How's the pain this morning?" he wondered, wiping blood off of his hands and onto his apron. Rachael blinked at him slowly, considering the question. It had been worse, but it didn't feel good. How could it? "I'm fine," she said quietly. "Why haven't you told anyone?" The doctor laughed. "It isn't any of my business," he said, then his face fell serious. "I have some news about your husband." She could tell by the tone of his voice that he was dead. "I know," she said. It hurt more than she thought it would. "Thank you, but I think I'll just go home now, to my parents in Boston. There's nothing left for me here." The doctor seemed anxious for some reason. "I'll escort you," he said. Rachael could tell he was hiding something from her. She didn't care. She didn't protest. She wanted to go home. When they arrived, however, Rachael was horrified to find her home gone. Burned to the ground. And crudely erected where her front door used to be, two headstones stone bearing her parents names. She cried for the first time since she was a child. All the pain came rushing back to her suddenly, and it scarred her soul to the core. Suddenly, when she was at her very lowest, she felt cold hands on her shoulders and heard a whisper in her ear. "I can make it all go away," the doctor said. "One more moment of pain and you'll never have to remember any of this ever again." Rachael's crying stopped, but before she could respond, she felt a sharp pain in her neck. And then, everything changed. From that moment on, she was in complete control of her memories and emotions and she never thought again about all that she had lost. TheBlackCage Username: TheBlackCage Name: Morrigan Rhodin Age: 19 Gender: Female Race: Werewolf Weapons: Two long daggers and a revolver. Description/Appearance: Human and WolfBio: Morrigan was born to a lone mother so she has never met her father and her mother never spoke of him, not even his name, before she died. Morrigan hasn't thought about it much though. She thinks it would be great to know her father or at least his name but doesn't really care that much. She doesn't have much of a history yet, seeing she's still very young. Her mother died, shot to death one day when Morrigan was 15. After that Morrigan leanred how to take care of herself, which wasn't hard seeing her mother had already taught her a lot about that, like if she knew she would get killed. Morrigan would love to know who shot her mother though, just so she can 'repay the favor'. xxAivilo-- Username: xxaivilo-- Name: WhiteArrow Age: 145 Gender: female Race: werewolf Weapons: Sword, claws, and some magic Description/Appearance: WhiteArrow ((wolf and human form)) Bio: She was born into a pack of werewolves and has been with them her whole life. Her parents died when she was young, but the pack takes care of her. Kaito Daku
Username: Kaito Daku
Name: Mai Valentine
Age: 57 (appears roughly 25)
Gender: Female
Race: Vampire
Weapons: A uniquely shaped longsword, Ravens Claw
Description/Appearance: She has long white hair; having inherited a "premature gray" gene. It reaches down to somewhere around her lower back. Her bangs are grown out. Her skin is pale, a sort of ivory color. Her eyes are red, almost blood-red. She stands about 5'4", and has a slim, athletic build. She also has a tattoo across her shoulderblades that reads, "Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore'." Her only visible difference from her sister is her hair and height (and the tattoo but that's usually not visible), otherwise they look exactly alike.
Bio: Mai was born the former of the two, and has always been first in everything. From learning to walk to reading her first book, she always did things before her sister did. She knows her sister doesn't mind, but still feels a little guilty about it. Her parents travelled a lot, so they didn't see them often; instead being raised by their "aunt", who worked at and owned a bar. However, one day their aunt had to leave to visit an injured friend, leaving Mai and Arisa alone to take care of themselves for a few days. They were fifteen at the time, so of course they'd be able to fend for themselves for a little while. However, one day a fight - between a werewolf and a vampire - broke out outside the bar. They both tried to stop the fight, as innocents were getting hurt, and ended up with Mai being bit by a vampire (and becoming one) and Arisa being turned in to a werewolf.
Username: Kaito Daku
Name: Arisa Valentine
Age: 57 (appears roughly 25)
Gender: Female
Race: Werewolf
Weapons: A glaive-like sword, Howling Moon
Description/Appearance: She has long black hair; reaching somewhere around her lower back. Her bangs are grown out, and she usually has her hair tied back in a ponytail. Her skin is pale, a sort of ivory color. Her eyes are red, almost blood-red. She stands about 5'8", and has a slim, athletic build. Her only visible difference from her sister his her hair and height, otherwise they look exactly alike.
Bio: Arisa was born roughly three minutes after her twin, Mai. She always comes second to her sister, but she doesn't mind. Her parents travelled a lot, so they didn't see them often; instead being raised by their "aunt", who worked at and owned a bar. However, one day their aunt had to leave to visit an injured friend, leaving Mai and Arisa alone to take care of themselves for a few days. They were fifteen at the time, so of course they'd be able to fend for themselves for a little while. However, one day a fight - between a werewolf and a vampire - broke out outside the bar. They both tried to stop the fight, as innocents were getting hurt, and ended up with Mai being bit by a vampire (and becoming one) and Arisa being turned in to a werewolf.Ehrfurchtig Vorliegen Username: Exalted Existence (Ehrfurchtig Vorliegen)
Name: Exavier Honorblud
Age: 258 (Appears 30)
Gender: Male
Race: Werewolf
Weapons: A Katana across his back, and two Magnum's at his hips.
Description/Appearance: Human: He stands 6,10 Tall for a human, and has shoulder length black hair with red highlights everywhere. His body is ghastly white, with red tattoos all over his body, symbolizing his family's hatred for the Vampiric race. He usually wears a black tanktop, with a wolves head on the center, and a black hoodie with a golden tribal werewolf head on the left upper chest. His pants are simple cargo shorts, black with green highlights and stitching, his steel toed boots the same way. He is well built, sculpted, as some would say, and his eyes are a feral red.
Werewolf: Standing near 9 feet tall at 8,11. He is a picture of Strength and power. His body is lean, and full of muscle and sinew, veins almost visible through thick, coarse black and red fur. Part Timber Wolf, Part Plains Wolf. He wears enhanced clothing in his human form so it will accommodate his were form, though the hoodie will rip if he doesn't get rid of it. His boots stretch as well, but he usually removes those before transforming like the hoodie. His fur accents a 'mane' to make it appear as though he has midback long hair, that is black with red highlights.
Bio: Born originally in London, Exavier grew up in a pack of Were's who hated all Vampire kind. For over 200 years he has lived, and in all of them he's not once 'wanted' to start his own fight. All of which were mostly caused by Vampires attacking him. From his years of fighting he earned a scar that he hides, it is on his chest, and he rarely takes his tanktop off around anyone.
Unlike most, he has no tragic past, both his parents died of old age, his brothers and sisters are all still alive. He can't relate to losing someone from the 'war'. However, he grew up learning to fight, with his Katana, and his Magnum's. Though the Magnum's were picked up sometime later in life. For as long as he could remember, he never took a place, He never chose a side, he was forced into it, and he always did what he was told, a weakness perhaps. His nickname among the pack is Ex, short and easy to remember, and he has made no ties with the other wolves, preferring the 'loner' stereotype over all others. Thorthelordofawesomeness Username: Thorthelordofawesomeness Name: Sek Age: 1000 appears 17 Gender: male Race: vampire Weapons: A large two-handed sword and twin Desert Eagles moddified to hold 20 bullets per clip. Description/Appearance: http://i533.photobucket.com/albums/ee340/Thor3250/WeaponsRPchar2.jpgBio: Kind, cold to his enemys and to people he doesent like, loyal to his friends, loves to kill his enemies, loves the experiance of hunting something/someone, holds onto a hatred for an enemy from a dark past
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The Committee Staff Gaian
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The Committee Staff Gaian
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Posted: Fri Aug 01, 2008 2:36 am
This roleplay is open to anyone with the accepted profiles! smile
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Posted: Fri Aug 01, 2008 8:56 am
Mat sighed as she sat down heavily in her seat, a barstool set at the end of the bar. The bartender set a shot and bottle of malt whisky in front of her-- she was well-known in this particular pub. With a nod of thanks, she set to her drinking; keeping her senses alert on her surroundings. You never know when a bar fight was going to start up around here, after all.
After about half the bottle was gone, she sighed again, propping her head up on her hand. Thoughts such as, Did I turn the oven off? drifted across her mind, but she ignored them. Wouldn't be the first time she set things on fire with an oven, anyways. Although Yori would hit me with a rolling pin again. Half turning in her seat, she readjusted her b*****d sword, which was slung across her back, to a more comfortable position and so it wouldn't poke her lower back every time she moved. Her shotgun was in its holster, strapped to the side of her left boot where she could easily reach it. Her boots themselves were knee-high, and she wore a long trench coat that covered them unless she stood. She also wore a pair of black gloves; one fingerless and one not. Underneath her coat she wore a pair of black shorts and a black short-sleeved shirt that had a.. neon green smiley face on it?
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g e n e t ii c -- D3SiiGN
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Posted: Sat Aug 02, 2008 1:51 am
The Lamb was on a warpath. She'd finally hunted down the last of a long line of S.O.B.s that ruined her life all those years ago. Sure, this man in particular wasn't guilty of murdering her parents, but his ancestor was. And it's not like she was killing an innocent either. She'd tracked him enough to know he had bad connection and had killed people for money. In her book, that was more than enough reason to justify her vengence. Rachael didn't look like a woman who wanted revenge. A tomboy maybe, but not one who wanted to kill anyone. She was wearing a very flirty black dress paired with...what else? An army jacket and biker gloves. Her appearance wasn't exactly most important now though. Rachael came into the bar and sat down a few seats away from a woman she sensed was "like her". That didn't matter right now. She tapped the bar to attract the bartender's attention.
"Scotch, please," she said. The barkeep nodded and turned his back to get her order. That's when she moved it. She pulled her right foot up onto the stool in preparation to vault over the bar, but paused to unsheath her machete from her boot. She jumped over instantly as soon as she was ready and rushed the bartender, pinning him back again the bar with the blade to his throat. He panicked immediately. "Hey, just take the money! I don't want any trouble!" he said, putting his hands up. "I don't want money you idiot!" He hesitated, then took the bait. "What do you want?" he asked. Rachael paused, turning the blade so the point dug into his throat slightly. "I want you dead," she told him. He seemed scared, but she continued anyways. "Let's just say your ancestors wronged my ancestors, and considering they're all dead, I've decided you don't deserve to live either." He tried to beg for his life, but Rachael didn't need to hear anything. Instead, she just opened his throat and let him fall right there. Without wiping the blood of her face, she grabbed her scotch and slammed it, then looked up at the girl she sensed was a vampire and nodded slightly. "What're you drinking?" Why not play bartender for a while? It's not like the real one was going to be able to do it anymore... She poured herself a whiskey and took a sip, leaning on the bar slightly as she waited for the girl's response.
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Posted: Sat Aug 02, 2008 9:09 am
In the corner of the bar, a figure with a black hood over it's face, only strand of aqua coloured hair showing, sat silent and watched people walk in and out of the bar. Piercing blue eyes followed people as they moved around and a pair of well tuned ears caught pieces of conversations as it wandered across the room but stopped when hearing "..don't deserve to live either." and shortly after that smelling the scent of fresh blood. This made her, Morrigan, turn her head in the direction of the bar in sheer curiosity, seeing a woman behind the bar, with blood stained on her face as she talked to another woman. She casually kept watching these two curious women, eatily telling they were not of her kind. Not that it mattered though. She wouldn't pick a fight without a reason. She let her gaze move around the room from time to time and catch pieces of conversations when she was bored.
She straightened slightly in her chair, adjusting her her black hood a little more and dusted of her black, skin-tight jeans. The hooded, black jacket she wore reached her hips and under it she wore an emerlad, silhouetted, buttoned shirt.
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g e n e t ii c -- D3SiiGN
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Posted: Sat Aug 02, 2008 1:37 pm
Mat grinned, savoring the smell of fresh blood. She could almost taste it.. Looking up from her drinking as the barkeep's apparent doom spoke, her grin widened; showing her pointed fangs. "Malt wisky. Best stuff this midden heap has." Her normally melodical and slightly lilting voice was edged with a very slight slurr; almost nonexistant. The alchohol didn't really have any effect on her, it just tasted good. Almost as good as blood..
Her eyes drifting over to the former barkeep's body, which still gushed blood, she raised an eyebrow and asked, "So, what'd the poor old sop do to you? Not surprising someone finally came after him, especially since he poisoned old Dirk's scotch last week."
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Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2008 12:27 pm
м ą i »»ßLOODY«« V ą ʟ ɛ и τ i и e
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxτake my нand, oƒƒ to »» never never land ««
Blood. Its strong scent assailed her nose as she stepped in to the bar. Well, I was hoping to smell the scent of alchohol, but this is even better she thought with a wry smile as she made her way over to the bar. Raven's Claw was strapped on her right hip, its comfortable weight a welcome presence to her in the somewhat dimly lit bar, which was filled with (mostly) drunken humans, as well as some.. other beings. Well, she didn't care about those 'other' beings. After all, she had just come in to have a drink, and to meet up with her sister. At the thought of a drink her mind went back to the strong sense of blood, but she shook it off. She'd had her fill of blood that evening, which was rather obvious by the almost blood-colored tint of her lips.
Mai sat slowly on a stool, a few away from another woman that was there. As she sat, she noticed the source of the scent-- some dead man, presumably the barkeep, lay bleeding in a pool of his own blood. Shifting a little in her seat, she forced her mind from the blood; instead thinking of the warm, stinging flavor of alchohol. What's taking Arisa so long? It shouldn't take this long to eat a whole chicken she thought, a little irritated from having to wait long.
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Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2008 3:30 pm
Rachael tried to shake her craving for blood out of her head as the stench hit her. She eyed the bartender for a moment, then looked away again. He'd only be fresh for so long, but that b*****d's blood couldn't possible taste good. After listening to her companion's words, she couldn't help but smile. "Ah, a woman after my own heart, I see," she said. Anyone who liked the old firewater was fine by her. She dug out a couple of bottles of the stuff and slid one over to her with a smile.
"I have the taste for something else right now, but there isn't a willing source around..." she said. Then, after thinking for a moment she glanced once more at the dead barkeep and added "Well...a willing source that won't taste with garbage that is..." Then, as if to add insult to injury...or death, rather, she spit in his direction. Turning back at the woman's words, she lifted an eyebrow, then heaved a sigh and gulped down a bit more whiskey. "Long story short: A great-great grand-someone of his killed my husband in a war a long time ago," She said this seemingly without emotion, mostly because it had happened so long ago that it didn't really hurt anymore, but partially because if she thought about it too much, she'd remember something she didn't want to. And that hurt more than anything else that existed on the planet. This would sound strange coming out of her considering she looked too young to have a husband. But, when she said a long time ago she meant a long time ago. Plus, we've already established that she wasn't quite normal. After taking the final swallow of her glass of whiskey, she pushed the empty crystal aside and instead opened up her bottle. "Shame about Dirk. He's dead, I assume?" Somewhere around the bar she sensed the presence of the other kind. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, but considering they weren't hostile yet, she took no action. She'd just keep her wits about her for the time being. There wasn't any reason for her to attack.
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Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2008 9:58 pm
Mat threw down another shot of whisky before answering. "Yeah. Dead as a doorknob. I burned him myself. Didn't want no one else having a feast with Dirk as the main course, see." Twitching slightly as the stench of fresh blood still assailed her nose, she told herself, The old bag probably wouldn't taste good anyways..
"I would've killed him myself," she added, gesturing at the barkeep's body, "but never got the chance. He was smart enough not to poison my drink." With a sigh, she leaned back in her chair a little, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling for a few moments. "Dirk was my drinking buddy, see. I drank him under the table a good fifty times a week." With a grin, she recalled the young man with rough-cut blond hair that had sat next to her for.. ten years, was it? Ah, good times. Good times, old friend she thought, glancing down at the stool next to her.
"A damn shame this pigpen has such good alchohol. Otherwise, I would've lit it on fire by now." she continued as she threw down another shot. Taking one of the full bottles sitting on the bar, she opened it and took a long drink from it. The bottle was only half-full when she set it down. "I'm Mat, by the way."
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g e n e t ii c -- D3SiiGN
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Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2008 10:08 pm
Morrigan was bored and as such, she easily eavesdropped on different conversations but the one that caught her interest just for the simple fact that it was different, was the conversation between the two women at the bar, the one who had killed the bartender and the one that sat by the bar. Interesting beings with interesting reasons. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, only listening as a sort of entertainment. She would probably not remember what she had heard once she woke up the next day.
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Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2008 10:19 pm
There was a silent gasp followed by a quiet moan as he slipped his fangs slowly in to her neck. The woman was not anyone he knew, but why would he bite anyone he cared about? Besides, this girl was too drunk to remember how she got the bite marks on her neck. Most likely she'd put it up to some guy taking advantage of her, like it really mattered to him anyways. All he knew was that this girl, who's name he had not tried to remember, was really in to the bite. She had her arms wrapped around his neck and was pulling herself close to him as he slowly drank. He could feel his eyes dilating from the pure ecstasy, feeling the warmth of her blood in his mouth made his skin tingle. She let out one more small moan, this time a little more troubled sounding. Her body began to slack in his grip as the loss of blood began to take its affect.
It was hard to stop drinking but he wasn't about to kill this girl just because he needed to feed. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve and spat the rest of the blood out of his mouth. If it wasn't drawn straight from someone's throat he had no use for it. Picking the woman off her feet he carried her gently to a nearby tavern/bar. After opening the door and walking in he looked around the place; it was mostly filled with s**t-faced humans that were talking in their harshly slurred tongues that he could barely understand. In the corner at the bar he could see a small group of people that gave off a different aura. He guessed they were probably like himself, or werewolves.
After setting the unconscious woman gently in a seat next to himself at the bar he nodded to the bartender. "...You don't happen to have an open room upstairs do you?..." Sticking a thumb at the slump girl next to him, her head face down on the bar, he followed up with "...My friend has had a bit too much to drink and needs a place to crash, I'll pay...."
It was now that he took notice of the dead man lying face down in puddle of his own blood behind the bar. His luminescent yellow eyes moved to what he had thought was the bartender, "...What happened to him?...Mess with the wrong people?" he knew that death was a common event in this town. It was a surprise that there even any people left living in the place since most if not all knew the presence of the vampire and werewolf crusade. But for some strange reason people stayed here, he assumed because they hoped it would eventually get better. And maybe someday it would, but most likely that day would never see reality as long as a single werewolf and vampire drew breath.
As a habit he reached one of his gloved hands down and felt the cold metal of his pistol, sitting safely in its holster attached to his belt. For some reason the cold quality of the gun set his nerves straight, not that they were on edge now. It would take more than this to make him sweat. As he raised that hand back to the bar he shifted in his seat, for the medium sized scythe-knife hidden under his cloak on his back was pressing against him uncomfortably.
He turned and checked the woman's pulse, it was slow but strong. The girl would live for sure. There was a trickle of blood running down from the bite-marks on her neck that he wiped clean with a napkin from the bar. He turned his attention back on the bartender now, "...What do you say?"
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Posted: Sun Aug 03, 2008 10:37 pm
After amoment longer of listening to the conversation, her eyes opened to look to the man that walked into the place, carrying a woman. Even from where she sat in her corner, Morrigan could smell the blood on him and the girl he carried. All this blood was making her a little itchy and she wanted to feed. Though she would have to hunt later tonight. Her ears tuned in to what the man said as he sat down by the bar, his excuse for why the girl was unconcious being pretty pitiful in her opinion but then again, who was she to judge. Compared to many others of her race and and others of the vampire race, she was still a child even though she was a teen in human eyes.
It seemed to be a quite calm evening at the bar though. Other than the death of the bartender, there was unusually few fights despite the amount of drunkards that visited the bar. Out of moredom, Morrigan almost wished for a fight to start but chances of that seemed very slim. Again she leaned back in her chair, slouching as she casually put her feet on the table. It was not like anyone would yell at her for doing so, or even notice what she did, seeing her corner was rather dark, just the way she liked it.
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Posted: Wed Aug 13, 2008 6:53 am
The winds shifted unsuspectedly. White Arrow kept moving. The forest around was a viod of trees. The beautiful creatures stood tall and frim, trapping the darkness in the forest. They only allowed a few shafts of dusty light escape. The lights were like beams from heaven. White Arrow's pace was slowled a bit by the tall grass except she had to kept moving. She had to. She wouldn't be fooled by the tall trees, ever trying to slow her down with there long talons of braches and tangled roots. Even the trees were the enemy here. Yes, even the trees that she had come to trust for so long.
This path would never end. Never again would she be far enough to be safe.
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Posted: Sat Aug 16, 2008 3:46 am
Sek was hiding in a tree waiting for the group of werewolves that had insulted him earlier to show up. He saw them approach, they all had some sort of shortsword, he jumped out and cut the first one he saw in half. He moved through them with his broadsword as quickly as a hot knife passes through butter. He stopped halfway through them so that they could at least see who they were fighting, in that moment, they charged him coming within sword-reach one at a time, they fell to a variety of spins, slashes and decapitations till there were only 3 left. Sek drew his sword from the corpse of a freshly slain werewolf and licked it clean, "Amazing how delicious werewolf blood is...almost as satisfying as human blood. You should have apologized when you had the chance, throwing me out of that girl's house so abrubtly, now you're paying the price." he rushed forward and pierced the heart of the first, the second attacked while his blade was embedded in the first, he dodged easily and kicked the second in the face stunning him and buying the time to pull free his sword, he brought it around and decapitated the second with it, grabbing his severed head as it fell, he sucked it clean of blood. Sighing with a quenched relief, he cleaned and sheathed his sword and walked up to the last werewolf, "Now you go back...and you tell your head werewolf...that im tired of this s**t and to ******** warn all of you assholes to leave me alone! Or else you'll all end up like these guys, understand!? Get the ******** outa here!" he picked up the werewolf and threw him 20 feet down the hill. He noticed a bar down at the bottom of the hill's southern side. 'Hmm...some alcohol sounds nice...it would wash away the taste of blood quite nicely...and i think that im in need of something to keep my thrist quenched." he thought to himself, and he started to the bar.
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