Angelfire (WOTS, Shade, Tiroth, Shrub, LEA, Safer, Bloodsword)

OOC: Welcome people. As you can see, the battle has begun. You can begin posting in any order for the first round, but after that lets try and keep the order the same for the following rounds.

I believe I've laid down the story clearly enough, though some may know more than others because due to my lack of time, I was unable to brief everyone. Apologies to Safer to whom I was unable to give further details, I hope you're with us. Just to clarify: the battle will take place in this cave, wherein lies the citadel of a demonic being. More on this being will become known later on in the battle. Now, this being has created the demonic sword, Angelfire, using dark magic (which is physicaly felt by angelic beings), and plans on ransacking and subduing the overworld. Inherently "good" characters may wish to prevent such an event and destroy the sword, whereas inherently "evil" characters may wish to join it or take the weapon for themselves, however I'll leave that up to you. It goes without saying that emotianilsms, character buildups, alliances and conflicts are to be developed at your will, we can make this a long battle

Now, about the battle arena: firstly I'll leave your mode of entry into the cave up to you. Secondly, the arena will be of the dark and wet variety at the beginning, with huge halls, rivers and lakes, but as we dwell deeper, don't be afraid if you encounter lava or ice chambers, use your imagination. There also exists the possibility of monsters/demons crossing our paths inside it. At some point we should be reaching the citadel which is in the cave's deepest reaches, and within lies the demonic being.

That about wraps it up, just link those character bios (if they're not in your signature already), and lets get this party going. Don't be reluctant to improvise, that'll make it more interesting.

IC:

Lonely drips echoed in the misshapen grotto. A steady stream of minuscule globules elegantly plunged to the ground, iterating the monotonous reverberance in a constant beat. Gentle rivulets encouraged the punctual procession, swirling and flowing in an intricate dance upon a pedestal of bare stone.

Amidst this harmonious ballet lay a figure of splendour seldom seen upon mortal lands. A graceful dress of ornate fabrication adorned her alluring outline, accentuating her slender features and emphasizing her imposing stature. Softer than the most delicate silk, her skin shimmered with an ethereal radiance that seemed to draw from her very spirit, and lit up the encircling gloom. Golden hair whose brilliance rivalled the majesty of the sun crowned her forehead and fell behind her back, and brilliant eyes which seemingly enclosed the oceans within them lit up her beautiful face.

But something was terribly amiss. A troubled expression overshadowed those eyes, which sparkled not with joy or bliss, but with tears barely contained behind them and the despair which threatened to overwhelm her. Her chest heaved in apparent agony, rising and falling as laboured gasps escaped her parting lips. Great wings flowed behind her back, but they lay broken upon the unforgiving rocks, twisted and shattered, deprived of their strength and beauty.

And the streams continued to flow, drenching her elaborate attire, twirling and waltzing upon the stone altar, tinting the unsullied fabric in shades of crimson and burgundy, gathering on the pooling floor, and spreading out into the cavern.

With a final exasperated sigh, the angel relinquished its final breath and conceded its futile struggle. Tranquillity returned to her troubled form, her glazed eyes staring blankly ahead, her velvet lips remaining slightly askew, chest no longer throbbing in suffering, bruised arms no longer shuddering. Her incandescent radiance began to slowly die away, surrendering her body to the encompassing darkness.

Visible under the light of the torch it held, a solemn figure clothed in impermeable black stood before the altar, hood drawn heavily over its face, relishing in the torment of the heavenly creature. In its hand lay the sacrilegious weapon, a bitter dagger encrusted with blood. Vile words escaped its desecrating mouth, an unearthly chant piercing the utter silence. The voice grew in strength with every spoken word, until it began to rattle the very foundations of the cave, pillars of stone shattering in all directions. The vibrations grew in size, until it seemed that the earth itself was churning in protest at the pungent tongue. Suddenly, the serene form of the angel was once again ravished as it violently burst aflame, and the flames burned black and foul, reducing its coveted beauty into an amorphous heap of tarnished ash.

Upon the altar, amongst the despoiled remains, now lay a sword. Its blade was crafted from a metal as black as death, though it was streaked by luminous veins which subtly interwove within it, creating a pearlescent surface whose hue changed as you altered your perspective. One edge of the blade was unnaturally sharp, and the other was serrated, giving the weapon a ghastly appearance. Completing the image, the pommel of the sword was fashioned in the form of a face contorted in agony, flames spreading along the hilt.

Angelfire

The figure concealed the dagger and confidently reached for the weapon, sparks flying off the hilt as its fingers closed around it. With one swift motion, the sword was held high in its hand, gleaming in the flickering torch light. In a sudden surge, the figure brought the blade heavily upon the altar, the metal glowing blue with heat as it whistled through the air, and as it made contact the stone was hewn right through and burst apart, sending sizzling chunks of rock everywhere and scattering the remaining ashes to oblivion...

****

A placid zephyr caressed the emerald meadow, coaxing the shimmering blades of grass into streaming tributaries which merged in rhythmic torrents, sending all the grassland into hypnotic patterns of lime and jade. Gleaming amidst the prairie stood another one. Its wings were unfolded in all their glory, gently fluttering in the spring breeze. Shelled within the garb of war and strife, it seemed utterly misplaced within such peaceful atmosphere, basking under the loving sun and flanked by nature in all its grandeur.

Entranced by the beauty of the landscape, yet ever spiteful in his anguish and fury, Osiris sighed. Too long had it been since he had seen purpose in his existence. There had been once, a sacred one, but that life had long since been forsaken. It had cost him harshly, for not only had he tarnished his soul, but had his heart ripped open, leaving an unbearable desolation within. For this he felt woe and wretchedness tearing at him, and rage and resentment brewing in his thoughts.

But now he felt pain. Irrevocable, excruciating pain shot through his body. He fell to his knees, clutching at his chest, wheezing and struggling to inhale. The wind died out inexplicably, as if sharing the angel's anguish. Visions of cruel agony raced through his mind, numbing him with despair. He saw an angel, much like himself, dying in facilitation of dark designs. Venomous hymns polluted his conscience, rattling his sanity, their hideous sounds ringing in his ears. Finally, a vicious sword, a demonic weapon reeking of corruption filled his thoughts, and he could sense the immense evil it was capable of inflicting upon the world. And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pain left him.

The warrior slowly rose to his feet, slightly short of breath. The once vivacious landscape seemed to have lost its vigour. The grass stood weak, defeated, the sky was blurred into grey, and the sun seemed to have been replaced by an echo of its former grandeur. Only an act of outmost evil could have affected the world so profoundly, and Osiris, being an angel, could feel it tugging at his heart.

Purpose

Without hesitation, his great wings beat into life, draping the ground with clouds of leaves and pollen, and the golden warrior took to the skies. Speeding through the heavens, Osiris followed the plaguing anxiety which swelled inside him. At length he came to a halt in mid-air, spreading his wings to glide for a moment before pulling them behind him and diving to the ground. With a gentle thud, Osiris landed on rocky terrain. Before him rose a gargantuan cave entrance, with earthen columns barred like vicious teeth within its obscurity. An ominous sensation permeated the rock-strewn foyer, speaking of vast recesses and unfathomable perils. Without so much as flinching, Osiris stepped forth and disappeared into the catacomb.

While the resolute and holy chose his path down into the harsh darkness, there was yet another player in this dark turn of events who had yet to reveal himself. He was far away; in fact, he was worlds away.

**

The sky was a broken and quivering thing above the handsome man standing on the boundaries of creation. Before him was a giant creature of unrivalled strangeness and beauty. It was a monumental lion, with fur that was so red that it made the sun look dull. Where the head of the lion would be, was the head of a man. The man had radiant white hair that stood in graceful spikes in all directions, and pure eyes that were black as night. Twisting beside the titan was the thick ebony tail of a scorpion. The monster stood on two legs, and floated on a tiny chunk of earth, much like it's observer. Besides that, there was few land in this world.

Humbly, the sinewy onlooker watched the magnificent monster clutch it's paws together. Upon their embrace, the claws they bore lengthened and locked them together. The thick white mane of the beast rustled wildly as a wind was born from it's gripped hands. The one who looked so weak in comparison to this monster stepped forward as he had been instructed, and spoke in the toughest voice he could muster, pointing with a firm hand:

"A mountain, THERE!"

The monstrous creature who was firmly locked in prayer responded with a howl of bestial command, and that command did not go unheeded. There was a massive ripple in sea to the east, and a massive chunk of land seemed not to ascend out of it, but rather grow from it. The mountain towered beyond sight, and it looked exactly as Max had pictured. The thing before him was, without a shadow of a doubt, a supreme being.

HOW SHALL IT BE KNOWN? The words echoed telepathically through Maximilian's mind, so much that he gripped his head in pain. He tried to speak the first time, but his voice failed, but in the second try he spoke clearly and loudly.

"The mountain is thus named Babel, for now and eternity!" The words echoed, and transitioned into a roar of thunder. A bolt of lightning struck the vortex of sea below them.

Max's fangs overlapped his lower lip. He was, as some call them, a vampire. Even as he was here, he had yet to understand the body he was made of at this point was a psychic replica of his true flesh. In the depths of the world called Earth, in the subterranean depths of the pacific ocean under a small island, the remains of his body were sealed within crystal, slowly undergoing rebirth. That rebirth itself was courtesy of this deity before him.

He had died on that island, and had done so when exploring the cave hidden there with the rest of his entourage. Using a peculiar bone that was carved with an ancient script, the medium that worked at the vampire's company had traced that place by acquiring the mana signature, and, like a dog proposed with as interesting scent, the millionaire entrepeneur had rushed to the isle with all haste. There, he had faced a familiar face: his own. His replicant foe, Maximus, and a crew of hideous creatures called Rep'tal had tried to ambush and kill Max and his allies upon arriving, but they were simply no match. After continuing their exploration, the friends discovered an open cave, much different from the one Osiris was entering at this very moment. There, perils were scarce, but when they were present, they were almost fatal to every member of the travellers. Once reaching the end of the cave, there was...

The huge titan, which was known in some places as a Manticore, was now a small figure in a drab cloak.

"I see you are too distracted to help me right now. I understand. You have much to think about." Max felt shame upon these words. He thought back to the image of the island once more, and to the dried husk of purple that lay defeated on the shore. Max, never forgetting the friend he had lost during the quest to meet this supreme force, and he wasn't even following His divine orders. No. His death would not be in vain.

"Forgive, please. There is no excuse for insubordination, my lord." Arimas did nothing for a moment, as if he was thinking, and then shook his small head.

"Well, since your mind is too clouded, and you wish to follow my orders, I have something you can do." This caused Max's spirits to rise considerably. He fell to his knees, and with all humility, asked for this task. Arimas smiled in his current form, and he reached out with a tiny black hand. A shard of the sky descended to his hand, and it's color shifted until there was an image of a heavy concentration of trees that seemed to end at a rocky area that tore open like a wound in the earth.

Looks like Rep'tal Cavern... He shuddered. That was the very place where his son, Julius, had been slain. Quickly, Max pushed back his sadness and observed the differences this place had from that sinister cavern. After giving it a good examination, he looked at Arimas.

"What would you have me do there, my lord?"

"Please, simple "Arimas" will do. After all, I do owe you a debt for believing in me. Without a follower, my power fades into dormancy. As for the cavern, forces that could pose a threat to a large number of creatures that I hope to protect are dwelling there."

"Couldn't you simply defeat them with a mere gaze?"

"Yes. But this is a hardship I am placing before you to prove your worthiness. Do not worry about your true flesh. I shall care for it until it is complete. Now, go through the doorway.” Puzzled by his words but not willing to ask questions and test the patience of a god, Max threw himself into the shard.

**

The rocky, desolate place where the angel had entered not so long ago was suddenly filled by a divine, red light. A misshapen piece of what looked like stained glass took form, and figure stepped out of the thin surface.

"So, this is it...I'm starting to notice a trend..." He decided to stretch a little before going inside.

OoC: Yo, Andurhil. For anybody who doesn't know, there's a link to my characters in my sig. Max's current state may seem a little confusing, but it's basically like a hologram that is projected so powerfully it is actually physical, just about the same thing as his real body. This is going to be awesome.

Quick news. I am indeed in this, but I may be the last to post an intro, like LEA said, since I'm grounded off my computer under friday after next. I'll try to sneak on occasionally to write my piece, but first I'll have to read the first two posts, of course... see you guys later. I'll be in touch. Don't leave me behind.

OoC: I am sooo sorry this took so long, Andurhil! But I really wanted this to be of high calibur, so I was waiting for my CJs to rejuvinate. ^_^; In any case, I hope you enjoy the first battle of my star character's alter-ego. It's time for the Harbinger to enter the fray!

BiC:

The sun had shone down brilliantly in a cloudless sky throughout daytime while a gentle breeze caressed the Earth. Green grass had stretched on indefinitely in all directions, broken only by the occasional oak tree in all its ancient glory. Straight and steady currents of wind blew across the upper airways a mile off of the ground, carrying birds of all shapes and sizes from one place to the next. The only difference between now and then was that the sun was in the final stages of setting, painting an array of mind-numbingly beautiful hues on the horizon, ranging from violet to gold to yellow. Soon all that would remain would be utter darkness.

Wings stretched to their greatest lengths of nearly twenty feet, beating against the steady air currents rhythmically, Drake soared through the skies in a single direction with no particular destination. It was some time since he had left Alliance headquarters, and now the black-skinned man found himself wandering aimlessly through an endless sky. His milky white hair, which he thought of as a dragon would think its horns, streamed gracefully behind him. The impressively long weapon strapped to his back did not appear to slow the man down; even less so as time wore on. As light faded from above, he could feel changes occurring within himself; changes brought about by gentle nighttime and a grandiose moon. When that time came, he would descend to the ground where his kin always walked.

Finally, after twelve hours of waiting, the last vestiges of sunlight were gone. From this height, Drake could hardly see the ground. Yet flight was more than second nature to the dragon-man. His wings straightened and ceased to beat the air; he tilted his body sharply to the right and slowly descended in long, lazy circles toward the green-infested earth. Hardly a minute later, Drake sensed that his target was near, and brought his feet forward. Wings suddenly glowed, shrinking until they had disappeared into his back. Then, he touched down, forcing hard against the dirt with his feet until he had come to a stop.

Rising to his full height, Drake gave his new surroundings a careful gaze. Sweeping his eyes from one end of the horizon to the next, the dragon-man took in every blade of grass and every distant tree. For the most part, all was calm, silent. Even the usual chirping of crickets remained unheard tonight. “Hmm…” mumbled the dragon, taking a step forward. There was something else, something beyond the silence and darkness. A certain presence permeated the otherwise empty field; very minute, yet surprisingly bold.

Drake took another step, and was surprised to find that said presence grew stronger yet. Suddenly wary, the dragon gave his surroundings another sweeping glance, this one hastier and more thorough. Nothing appeared to have changed, but he knew better than not to trust his instincts. A predator’s blood flowed through Drake, perfectly in-tune with nature. Throughout the years, he had learned to trust this instinctive wisdom even with his life. Ready to draw the massive double-bladed sword from its scabbard should the need arise, Drake began a casual walk through the field.

Nothing moves without my notice, the dragon-man told himself correctly, perking up his ears. So long as he kept careful watch over everything around him, his keen dragon senses would pick up even the slightest change in the environment. No single blade of grass would bend without his knowledge.

Ever cautious, muscles tensed, he had walked a full fifteen meters when the presence suddenly grew exponentially in magnitude, as if staring him in the face. Drake faltered, startled by the sensation, but stealthily reached behind his back and snapped the scabbard from its straps. Soundlessly, the fabric split apart down the middle, revealing a fascinating and intricate weapon. It hovered in the air momentarily as the two ends of the scabbard slid away, and then Drake snatched the hilt from the air. Spinning the weapon between his fingers so quickly that it was but a blur, he surged forward just as a breath of wind swept past the dragon’s neck. Whirling around, still windmilling the sword, Drake locked eyes with a bizarre creature. Its eyes were of a bloodlike color, but that was all Drake could see of it; the rest of its body was shrouded in a thick haze of darkness energy. He could hardly tell whether it even possessed legs.

I see, thought the dragon-man to himself. This is a creature of the darkness. An evil one, at that.

The wicked beast eyed him with something bordering on bloodlust, though slightly different. Unable to identify the emotion, and unwilling to care, Drake surged forward with his windmilling blade and delivered a lightning-quick slash to its torso. The dark-skinned man watched in satisfaction as the two ends split apart, falling to the ground in a wispy puddle of darkness energy. “Humph! Pathetic…”

Whatever solidity had been within the smoky darkness now dissolved, pooling at the dragon’s feet. Gathering himself for his nighttime journey, Drake took one step forward, not caring that his feet treaded upon the wicked being… and then he began to fall.

OoC: I wrote something last night, and I decided since no one else has joined, I'll just post.

BiC: The vampire was facing away from the cave entrance as he stretched. He was looking this way because he felt something watching him from deep inside the stygian gap. unceremoniously, the nightwalker yawned and twisted his neck, being sure not to alarm whatever malign or righteous force was approaching. Either way, he would probably kill them. Paladins and Clerics alike can sense vampires, and they show no mercy. His father had taught him that.

Whoever the being was, it was very quiet. Max supposed he could give it that, considering only his keen intuition had given it away. The sharp rocks beneath his shoes felt uneven, like the teeth of an ogre. Without moving an unnecessary inch, the vampire wondered if Jenorath would come if he called. He closed his eyes, out of the watcher’s view, and felt for the spectral force. Nothing.

Oh, well. He could manage without his sword. His fighting skills were at their peak from the training he received at Kagrua-Ji, and his new style was ripe for more testing. Continuing to charade a stretching routine, he waited for the spectator to reveal itself. Nothing happened for twelve agonizing minutes.

When the watcher finally sprang forward, it drew twin daggers and sunk them into the vampire’s back. At least, that’s what it wanted to do. What actually happened was this: the creature had lunged out with it’s weapons, and Max had melted into the air, leaving the creature to sprawl onto the dirt. Behind him, Max was solid again. When the fiend turned around, the vampire was able to more carefully analyze it. It was a shadowy creature with a spindly, agile body. It had beady eyes the color of his own, and a shroud of darkness hid it’s raw appearance.

“So…a little minion, are you? How pathetic is it that you feel you could carry out my murder? Do you realize what I am? Who I am?” he bombarded confidently, his typical way of handling weak foes.

The dark thing simply stared it him with those red, buggy eyes. Max interpreted it as a look of stupidity. Breathing a sigh, he shook his head. The thing rushed him once again, but he sidestepped it, and brought his hand into the creature as fast as he could. It was neatly gutted through the midsection. The thing then fell apart. Stepping away from the thing, he noticed it’s gaseous, watery remains trying to approach him.

“No you don’t.”

He pointed a single, black-nailed finger at the large puddle of shadow. Max focused, and a beam of light from his digit cut a swathe through the ravenous dark residue, leaving nary a thing.

Sad. Really sad. I can only hope his master shows to be at least three times this mighty.

OoC: I'm halfway through writing my piece. Almost there, guys! I'll edit this post if someone doesn't post before I'm done with it.

EDIT: Finished! Gotta post it quick... here you are, gentlemen. And here's Terrin!

BiC: The land was dark. Very dark. Pools of luminescent moonlight hung in sparse patterns across the empty plains stretching out for countless miles, the flatness distilled only by the scrubs and scraps of shrub that littered it’s blank surface. Not a single entity, be it fowl or land dwelling, disturbed this calibur of quiet. It was at total peace... something virtually unheard of to some.

Two solitary figures stood at the very edge of this long desolate stretch of parched land. They happened to be standing at the front of a massive woodland. Their silhouettes made of pitch black gave them the appearance of teenagers, but as many things now are, they were not as they appeared. One was twenty-eight years of age, the other, twenty-seven.

They stood close together, fingers interlaced, not inches apart from each others bodies. One was Terrin Tankira, the other, his wife Courtney Tankira. Both elves stared into each others eyes, not wanting to look away, but both knowing that they eventually must.

“Terrin,” whispered Courtney softly, caressing his fingers gently, “I don’t want you to go. You remember, I trust, what happened last time in a situation such as this?”

“I went to a Cloud Castle and fought to the edge of death to get my hands on an ancient relic that rid us of an unspeakable blight. Yes, my love, I remember. So it was that last time I had to go. This is no different. Many have sensed the growing Darkness on this plain, and I must now rush to combat it before it grows beyond our control.”

Courtney bowed her head, and quietly wept behind her long curtain of brown hair.

She believes me to be moving to my demise...

Terrin pulled his hands away and embraced his wife gently, allowing her tears to fall. She hugged him tightly back, and he felt her agony as his own. He ran his hand softly through her hair and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I understand,” gasped Courtney, looking back up at Terrin with tears rolling in small rivulets down her cheeks. “But it will do nothing to console my grief.”

“Then maybe this will.” Terrin pulled her form against his, and kissed her passionately, putting all of his love into the action. And so much was his love that Courtney’s tears halted, and she gave in to him completely, allowing herself to be swept away.

After what could have been only a few minutes, or several suns, they broke apart, holding each other close.

“Never forget,” breathed Terrin. “My love is unrelenting, unstoppable, unconditional. If I have to fight through fifty Samlea clones and a thousand dark armies, I will return to you. Nothing will withhold out love. I will let nothing stand between us.”

Courtney smiled, and even laughed softly.

“I believe you.”

Terrin locked eyes with her again, and said strongly, “I love you. I will come back to you and the SEF.”

“I will inform them,” Courtney promised. “I love you also. Do not be away overlong.”

They broke apart, and with a final kiss on the cheek, Terrin was off at a jog, out into the arid land.

She watched him until he was gone.

* * *

Lets go, Terrin. Stay sharp. It’s time to prove you aren’t completely worthless. Dispatch the demons and get back to Courtney.

The elf beat a quick pace across the plain, displaying his insane speeds, one of the many traits that made him a part of the SEF. Even as he raced across this desert-like place, he saw neither hide nor hair of his quarry. It was one of the emptiest places he had ever beheld. It’s like the Pasal Plains.

The nimble elf ran for nearly another half hour before coming to a half. Nothing had changed around him, and it was likely he was now lost in this barren area. And he still saw no sign of any demon. UPon glancing upward, he saw unfamiliar constellations. It was a full moon. Well, he thought bitterly, at least I’m getting somewhere.

Instantly after this thought passed through his head, a shadow descended, and in a split second, his expertly forged beauty of a sword --- Yuthian --- was held in both hands. The point snagged in the gleaming claws of a hulking shadow that had just descended in front of him. All that was visible of this mysterious creature was its pure white eyes, and the claws that Yuthian was held against. No aura... that’s how it got to me without my attention.

“Hmm,” murmured Terrin. This was a demon, alright, but not only did it not have an aura... no evil emanated from it like regular hellspawns. This puzzled him... his mind unwillingly soared back into nightmarish memories.

A huge red monstrocity tearing at me while everyone around me is quarreling... being thrown off a massive head with a severed horn... a sparkling dome with Keir and Isukimi standing as enemies below a glowing golden relic... Tokumaru... Ovirian... Ranul... Drago... Blitz...

The demon screeched out at Terrin, startling him out of his trance. The elf swiftly unbuckled the sheathe and smote the demon in the temple with it. The black hell dweller stumbled backward, clutching at the wound, although no blood was visible, for it was still nighttime, and it was a dark demon. Terrin lashed it in half with a lazy flick of his wrist.

“Bastard,” he uttered, forcing an angry foot heel into it’s top half.

Terrin was surprised when, upon his foots impact, both the body and all the ground beneath him gave way, crunching to loose rubble and sliding inward.

Bloody hell, it’s hollow!

Terrin fell into the crumbling ravine, scrabbling for a handhold, and finding none among the loose stones. The gap widened, and he tumbled through.

Ah... ****.

OoC: Now any of you can just connect my post to yours. Have your character find Terrin the cave doing... whatever.

OoC: I have seen it, Andúrhil, and I'm afraid I can't do anything about it.My jurisdiction doesn't extend to the Battle Arena - I am only capable of wielding my modly powers in the Din Clan. Sorry about that.

Anyways, here is my introduction for this battle. Here's hoping it measures up to what's already been posted. Oh, and any questions about it that Chetarren's profile (link in sig) don't answer, just ask. I'm always modifying things like his belief system.

BiC: Kneeling in the centre of his familiar chamber in the Dome, the centaur held his steel and flint over the stone bowl in front of him. He held the position for a moment, staring at the dried herbs and flowers that filled the bowl, thinking on how difficult it had been for him to find and refine them since he had come to the strange realm. They were hard to find, even for a tracker of his considerable skill, and whatever intelligence it was that watched over those who occupied the Dome had often seen fit to throw various fiends, demons, and other opponents in his path when searching for them. The risk in gathering them had been great, but the old warrior considered the aromatic herbs and soothing scents well worth the effort.

Taking a deep breath, the old warrior struck his steel and flint together, releasing a spark into the bowl and igniting the dry materials inside. He reached out with the magic that Aurora had granted him, feeling the warmth and innate power of the small fire, and altered slightly so that it would burn for longer, take up less of his small stock of the herbs before being replenished. That small task done, he settled back and breathed in the smoke, letting the familiar scent fill his head

Chetarren wasn’t sure how long he knelt there, thinking about the past and future and allowing the scent of the herbs and flowers to carry his thoughts wherever they would go. But long before the contents of the bowl had burned themselves out, he found his mind being pulled and led by a pair of familiar minds, vastly more ancient and powerful than he himself was or ever could hope to be. Focusing on them, he waited until the mists in the landscape of his mind parted to reveal their figures, then bowed as low as he could possibly go.

The White Dragon stepped forward and bowed her own head to the centaur. “Rise, Chetarren,” she whispered, her voice as soft as silk. “We have a task for you to perform on our behalf.”

Doing as the beautiful god bid him, the old warrior raised himself to his full height and squarely met the gazes of the Moon-Gods. The Black Dragon, twin brother and darker half to she who represented what was commonly misinterpreted as ‘good’, studied their servant for a moment before stepping forward beside his sister. “A great evil has been forged, Caesar – an evil that has the potential to upset the balance for centuries to come. If it is allowed to go unchecked now, at it’s birth, it may even be millennia before one with the ability and chance to stop it comes. One of the two great opposites will triumph, and all creation shall suffer for it.”

“You wish me to face this evil,” Chetarren said. It was not a question, merely uttered to make it plain to his gods that he understood what they wanted him to do, but the White Dragon nodded her perfect head anyway.

“This will be dangerous,” she said softly. “The evil lies on the edges of our realm, almost to the limits of where we hold power, and so there is not much that we can tell you.” Her dark eyes captured the centaur’s gaze, drawing him into their dark depths. “But we can take you there, to where the evil lies in it’s infancy.”

Bowing again to the two Gods of Balance, Chetarren Caesar asked the only question that he considered worth asking. “Is there anything that I must know about this task, my lords?”

“Only this,” replied the Black Dragon. “You must not allow one who follows one of the paths of evil to leave the place with the black sword forged by a messanger’s death, or all of creation shall fall as swiftly and surely as the angel that you shall meet along the way.”

The old warrior bowed long a third time, and held the position as the mists of his mind came again and swept him away. When the centaur opened his hazel eyes again, he found himself kneeling in front of the stone bowl in his chamber, it’s contents reduced to a pile of ashes in the bottom. Thinking over what he had been told as he breathed in the fumes, Chetarren took the bowl and scraped it out into a small container he had reserved for this purpose, the absently placed the stone bowl onto the small table and picked up his weapons from the rack against the leather walls. Their familiar feel from decades of use brought a smile to his face, and the greatest centaur warrior in living memory turned towards the door of his chamber and stepped out into one of the Dome’s many corridors.

Almost immediately outside the room, Caesar saw a door like none he had ever encountered before. It’s design was simple and beautiful, depicting two dragons flying into a sunset with the entrance to a cavern shown on the ground below them, and in front of the entrance stood a centaur holding both hammer and spear. The door seemed to beckon to the warrior, to urge him on, and so he pressed one palm flat against the surprisingly warm wood and pushed against it. Swinging easily to one side, it revealed a scene like that on the door in every detail, save for the dragons and centaur in the skies and on the ground.

Idly spinning his spear in one hand, Chetarren removed the sledgehammer he had been gifted with when he was first trained as a warrior close to eighty years before and cantered towards the cave entrance, and the evil that lay within it.

OOC: Okay, I’ll be using good old Tokumaru-sama!

BiC: The chirping of the morning birds fluttered softly throughout the large tower, giving off a feel of elegance for it. The Tower was old and sage-looking, and for good reason; many generations had fought, ruled, lost, and reconquered the mighty tower. It was had a large veil of swamp-green moss all along its sides, coursing intricately around the door. The Tower was designed in a tier-to-tier format, just like many temples in the Karazuna region.

In the highest tier, there was a small, circular room, with a table in the center. Abroad the table sat three men, two of which were laden with heavy armors and weapons, each with a stern and worried face. But the other man, who was garbed in a simple kimono, sat with a smile. He had a small glass of sake in his hand, and a wondrous red sheathe at his side, sporting a night-black katana hilt from its top.

The other men also had sake in there hands, drinking heavily.

“Tokumaru-sama,” said one of the men, finishing off a sip of sake, “what do you plan to do, now that Naoru has disappeared?”

“Yes…” said another one of the men, “Do you intend to do anything about Hanshin Daimyou of the west? I haven’t heard anything from our scouts about his actions, but in the time that you’ve been away from Miiazu Castle hunting for Naoru, I wouldn’t have a doubt that he’s recalibrated his forces.”

“Haha…” chuckled Tokumaru softly, “I see... it has been awhile since I’ve encountered good old Hanshin, hasn’t it? Bah, I shouldn’t make much of it. Now the power of Hephaestus’ Hammer is infused with the Hinotama, well… I wouldn’t fear much of anyone, eh, gentlemen?”

All three men burst into laughter. Merriment was all around, but at that instant, a wave of dark energy pulsated quickly throughout the land; Tokumaru, being the most magically diverse of the three, felt it greatly. The Heavenflame Samurai’s happy face then turned firm and alert; Tokumaru placed his right hand on the hilt of his omnipotent blade, the Hinotama.

“Kaezu…” the Samurai said to his men, “Mitsata… There is a disturbance in the air, can you not feel it?”

“My lord,” said Kaezu, “what are you talking about?”

“Don’t ask questions.” snapped Tokumaru, “Hold the fort for me while I’m gone, there is an issue that needs attending.”

“Wh… what?” asked Mitsata, “Tokumaru-sama, you’re kidding me, right? Your son was going to come and visit tomorrow, are you positive you want to leave?”

Tokumaru winced at the thought, but nodded, turning towards the higher window in the room. Tendrils of flame then licked up from his sword, swirling around his back in a fiery display. Embers were scattered to the wind, and a pair of feathery wings emerged from the fire upon Tokumaru’s back.

“Men!” the samurai said to his comrades as he stepped up to the window, “Hold Alex here for all the time you can, I do not know when I shall return… er… nor do I know where I am going. I am sorry for this, but I must take leave.”

And with that, Tokumaru jumped out of the window and took flight to the air. A warm updraft caught strongly beneath his wings, sending the samurai high into the sky; he flew steadfast to the source of the heavy aura.

Alex… Tokumaru thought, closing his eyes, It appears battle will tear me from you once more. But this aura… this true feeling of eternal hate; I can sense that is extremely powerful. Heh, I wouldn’t doubt it if I saw Terrin or Blitz there. Those two always have a way of—

Instantly, another wave of dark energy, this time stronger, pushed through the air with a great force. To Tokumaru, it felt similar to when he had forged the Hinotama… but it was different; this feeling was so purely evil, that it could even rival…

Naoru… It isn’t him, that I am positive of, but this aura is practically as evil as him… Whatever the hell is going on, it is not good.

But as soon as these thoughts crossed his mind, a mountain revered itself through the hazy morning overcast. Tokumaru did not understand why he, with his hawkeyed vision, could not see it, but could obviously see that the dark aura was permeating from it.

Something demonic has been created. Tokumaru thought, And I can definitely sense that others have been called here. There are many auras radiating from here… but one, it’s familiar!

The samurai then flew down into the wooded area at the mountain’s base, and saw a dark crevice that had recently been cragged open into the ground. Sensing a friendly aura, Tokumaru flew down in.

Contrary to Tokumaru’s thinking, the crevice was greatly illuminated; a bright blade shone in the distance. Having battled with the blade previously, Tokumaru immediately knew he its owner was.

“Terrin!”

OOC: Tiroth, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to switch places in the official order with you, hence (not including Shade’s second post) I would be the last in line with WoTS and BS. So, if you’d let this be, I’d really appreciate it. So… the order would be: Andurhil, Shade, WoTS, BS, SS, Tiroth, and then the others. That okay with everyone?

OoC: M’kay, I shall be using Shan. *winks at Safer* You’ll find her profile in my sig. Some of you guys have read her profile before, but I've made several important changes to her abilities. So you guys need to read up on her again. *looks at WoTS and Bloodsword*

BiC: Shan wiped her forehead with her crimson and white sleeve. Her small black sandals sank into the red sand with each step. She hated sand, it always got in her sandals and socks causing discomfort as she walked across the great desert. The female samurai also hated the heat of the arid climate. It made her feel slow and sluggish. However, it was night which made it much more cool than it had been when the Faia’s Eye was above the horizon. At the moment thousands of stars quivered in the dark blanket of the sky. The large silver orb, known as Nasake’s Silver, was cradled in the midnight heavens.

Shan’s amethyst eyes grazed over the rolling dunes of dark red sand. It seemed as if it could have gone on forever and that the whole planet was all just great waves of sand. But tearing up from the ground in the horizon, ahead of the warrior, were great, rocky mountains. She would reach them in no time at all. Though, the clenching feeling in her stomach increased as she neared them. It was a warning. Her father had always told her to listen to her instincts and they would guide her away from danger or defend her when needed. Yet, she knew she would not be turning around and going in a different direction. She would go to the doom that was tingling in her gut. Her instincts would have to defend her this time. What does it matter anyway, my father is dead …

What did matter now was freedom. Shan hoped Sheinron had meant what he said. The Dark Elf King was known for his silver tongue and for his lies. “You bring me the sword and freedom is yours.” Somehow she knew he was lying. Would he ever let her go? Shan closed her eyes but continued to walk toward the ridged mountains. Her hope was what made her go on. Maybe he had meant it and perhaps if she did this last request he would free her. The warrior could not stand another second of living in the Dark Elf’s presence. His very aura disgusted her. It was hard to believe she even allowed him to touch her with those sickening hands.

No matter, hopefully I will be free of him soon. Shan’s thin lips curved up into a tranquil smile while her eyes remained closed. It was such a soothing thought. Her heart seemed to almost sing at the idea. Her purple eyes opened and the samurai spurted forward across the sand. The faster she got to the mountains the closer she was to her freedom.

How did Sheinron know of the sword’s existence so quickly? According to him it was made not too long ago. Tak must have told him. The raven came around Delu often to bring news to the king. Nothing got past that bird. He knew everything. She had never heard it speak a word but she would see the raven and Sheinron stare at each other for long periods of time. Shan knew they were speaking with thought.

Before she knew it she had sped through the last stretch of sand and had reached the rocky base of the mountain. “Once you reach the mountains you will find a worn path through all the boulders and rocks. It is obviously a path, you will have no trouble finding it. You must follow it for a short while up to a small opening into the mountain’s great caverns. There you will find the sword. But I warn you, there are others seeking it as well.” These mountains were dry and abandoned of all life forms. All there was to see was dirt, rock, and more sand. However, the color of the earth was a dark brown unlike the desert sands. It was a change at least, Shan had been growing weary of the rusty color. Along the steep slopes of the mountain sides were huge boulders and large rocks. So many that it seemed to cover all of the mountain’s surface. And just as Sheinron had told her, there was an obvious gape in the rocks. It was a narrow path that spread along the slopes, carving a road through the mountains.

Shan stopped shortly to catch her breath. Sitting down on a fair-sized rock, she pulled off her sandals to brush the sand off of them. She inhaled deep and slowly, catching her breath lost during her run. It was harder to run in this arid land. The dry air was harsh on her lungs. The samurai placed her sandals back on her feet and leaned back to stare up at the stars.

She could remember when her brothers and her would lay on the soft grass in the fields of Ranelu and try to count the stars. They would eventually get bored of that game and then try to make out shapes and figures. Her brothers made up the wildest and craziest stories about these imaginary shapes. They had been very energetic boys, those twins got into trouble every where they went. Pulling pranks and tricks on the others in the village and several on herself. Shan felt her heart contract painfully. I miss those boys …

The warrior bowed her back down to the earth and shook it. What was she doing? There was no time for this. Shan stood up from her seat and started a fast pace up the mountain path. For about another hour she hiked up the mountain slopes until she came to an opening in the side of a mountain. The opening had jagged sides and sharp rocks protruding out of the ground. The air in her lungs paused at the sight of the cavern entrance. The warning inside swamped her, flooding her body with a chill unlike any winter she had ever experienced. Normally, Shan liked the cold but this was a different kind of cold. It felt as if the darkness of that cave was threatening to swallow her up and the cold was suffocating.

I shouldn’t be here … thought the female samurai, hesitating. She turned around and was about to walk away from the cave opening. “You bring me the sword and freedom is yours.” Sheinron’s words whispered through her head. She wanted it badly, that freedom he spoke of. Even if he could be lying, she would do anything for it. Shan bit her bottom lip and stared at the dry earth at her feet. I must be crazy, thought the warrior as she turned back around and walked into the gaping cavern. She strode into the darkness, not knowing if she would be able to make it out. But she didn’t care. She wanted her freedom and if she couldn’t get it this way, she wouldn’t mind dying.

Sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the ground with patches of golden hue. Along a narrow, well-worn dirt path, an angel trod. She was robed in silver and was armed with only an ornate short sword. Her wings were fully exposed; had a common human walked past her at that moment, he would have gasped at the spectacle. The normally snowy-white wings were glaringly marked ebony and crimson in random places. But what would have amazed a potential onlooker even more so would have been the tears streaming down the beautiful face.

It seems forever since I’ve seen him.

The crystal sealed inside the angel’s body, the Argentsigna, resonated in response to Mariana’s painful thought. Warmth spread from it through Mariana, and she took comfort in the crystal’s presence, still securely sealed within her. And yet, that very thought brought a flood of memories all its own.

He tried to destroy the seal. He was using me. But…

Her musings were suddenly interrupted by a rumble in her stomach. Now she remembered. It had been several days since she had last eaten. Quickening her step, Mariana soon happened upon a quaint village, which vaguely resembled Lochlynn. Shoving the tide of memories back into their confining corner in her mind, Mariana cautiously entered the village and scanned the sides of the main street for food. Spying a lone stand occupied with an elderly man, the marred angel ventured toward the sparse-looking tent.

“Um…excuse me. I was wondering if you had some food to spare.”

The man didn’t acknowledge her for several minutes, which led Mariana to wonder if he had heard her at all. She opened her mouth to repeat her question, but to her surprise, the man raised his head and smiled up at her.

“My, my, I don’t usually see a lady of such exquisite beauty wandering near my humble stand.”

Mariana blushed shyly at his compliment, but his next words sent a shock through her.

“….Or….should I say….angel?”

“How do you know I’m an angel?” Mariana asked in a whisper.

The man’s smile broadened. “I can see many things that the other people of this town cannot.”

He’s like Sister Agatha…

The man motioned her underneath his tent. “Come, come. Get into the shade. You don’t want to stand out there in the sun, do you? Here, I’ve got a little food you can have.”

Mariana accepted the man’s offer gratefully. As she bolted down the delicious fare, the man watched in silence. The angel was amazed he did not pelt her with questions. She also took note of the fact that he had mentioned nothing about her unholy wings. Before she could inquire further about that, a searing pain lanced through her spirit and forced her to her knees beside the man. Something atrocious had just happened to the east of her present location. The old man expressed his concern.

“Is there something the matter?”

Mariana was quick to recover. “Th-thank you for the food and shelter. I have something very pressing that has abruptly come up.”

With that, she spread her wings and took to the sky, heading east. The painful sensations intensified as she flew onward. As she searched the ground for anything that might have even remotely caused her to feel such agony, her eyes were drawn to a cavern. That was it. Whatever the cause of the pain was, Mariana was certain that it dwelt underneath the earth. Descending to the ground, Mariana folded her wings behind her and took a slow breath. As she took a few steps toward the cave, she felt the faint traces of Lucilius’s presence. Whirling around, the angel searched frantically but was unable to find any sign of the demon.

…Lucilius?

With a sigh, Mariana turned back to the cavern entrance and cautiously made her way inside, while assuring herself that her short sword was securely fastened to her side. It wasn't long before she saw a figure up ahead.

OoC: I can’t wait to get this into full swing. ^_^

Meh, I'll give it an okay if no one else will. But can we PLEASE stick to that order from now on? (Shade, that'll mean moving you to the end)

IF... my calculations are correct, the order is:

Andurhil
WoTS
Bloodsword
Safer
Tiroth
Shrub
LEA
Shade

ANY objections? Don't mean to sound like a god-modder here, but I cant stand unorganization. Damn OCD.

OoC: Okay, here's my post. I'll delete the old OoC one.


BiC:The cave was a husk of stone and moisture. In that darkness, Max felt strangely disconcerted. Moments ago, when he felt no more violent energies, he was still a little reluctant to enter the place. When he finally did, his eyes adjusted almost instantly to the dark, and thus his trek began. No cobwebs nor any other animal provoked him, but it wasn't long before he heard the footsteps of something obviously bipedal. He was ready to fight, but his instinct told him it wouldn't be necessary. He turned himself around, and crossed his arms.

A robed, feminine figure slowly came into his view, evolving from a silhouette that blocked the whiteness of the entrance. Max's excellent vision made out the rest of her features.

Interesting...blue eyes and hair...

She froze about five feet from him, and he watched her with amusement. His red eyes glowed dully in the blackness, like the embers of a dying fire. The girl stared at him warily, never blinking.

"What happened here?" She asked clearly, the resonance of her words piercing in the rocky tartaric they were both drawn to. Max spread his arms as widely as possible, and shook his head from side to side. She still couldn't make out if he was man or beast in this distortion.

"I don’t know."

"Then why would you be here, if you didn't know? Surely you don't...live here?"

How sweet. She thinks I'm a hobo. He decided to mess with her.

"No, babe. I don't live here. I'm just browsing. Location, location, location, ya know?" She was confused by his answer. He spoke words in a tone that was almost too casual, and she decided he was mocking her.

"My name isn't babe. Seriously, explain yourself."

"First, what is your name?"

"I...I don't know if I should tell you."

Max smirked at this, and snapped his fingers together, producing a light that illuminated the stark features of his face.

"Listen, I won't bite," He assured, making sure his fangs weren't present. That wouldn't do well. He observed that the girl’s white clothing reminded him of the human church in the city near where he grew up.

"I came here on a sort of...missionary trip.”

“Missionary? Like a religious trip?” She asked, still slightly wary. She was too far away to see that the light that came from his hand was not generated by a match.

“Yes. God has led me here. Right now I am not sure why, but it is true all the same.” When he thought his charade might pass her, her face became heated, and she pointed at him accusingly.

“You are a horrible liar! You are riddled with death! I smell blood on you!” As she accused, white shapes behind her back partially unfolded. Wings. So, that’s what was up with the clothes. An angel. Max chuckled under his breath, and reached into his pocket. Without knowing how or why he expected his empty pocket to be full, he wondrously withdrew a bottle from the baggy denim.

The angel, not caring if he noticed what she was or not, held out a glowing hand. The light coming from it was the color of moonlight. Max ignored her, and proceeded to uncork the thick glass container. Max took a swig of the crimson draught, and laughed some more.

“Ah, whatever you may think, what I said is just about the truth. Believing me is your own decision. I don’t care either way.”

Hehe, I'm sorry guys. Three days delay on posting my part is really embarassing. Just goes to show how irresponsible I've been, not even finding time to post. :embrsd: But the last few days have been very hectic, I've had almost no time to write my piece. Meh... at least WOTS must've had enough time to recharge his mental batteries.

I'm afraid I've got some bad news, I'll be leaving this Sunday, which means I won't be able to post for about a week. I'm not abandoning this fight, I shall return. So please bear with me.

Oh, and congratulations to the teachers now participating in this very battle. May you prosper and teach students till the end of... er... ZU.

IC:

Catacomb was a word incapable of describing the landscape which lay beyond the dishevelled atrium. The term brought to mind claustrophobic darkness and constricted tunnels. Indeed, as Osiris forsook the overworld bathed in light, the surroundings rapidly succumbed to shadow, yet the angel found himself within halls immense and lofty, as if the mountains which bore them were but hollow within.

Before long, his vision began to fail as the curtain of darkness thickened, till he could not proceed. He closed his eyes momentarily, and a misty radiance broke forth from his body, melting into an illuminating aura which encompassed him, spreading light upon the bare rocks. Carved by time itself, giant pillars rose into the distant heights, like elaborate columns supporting an ancient cathedral. The infallible silence broke steadily as the angel's footsteps resounded off the infinite surfaces.

He could sense the fiend before it appeared. A ghastly creature with a pair of glowing red eyes stepped forth into the open. Unlike its brethren who were weakened by the light outside the cave, this one was in full vigour. Its appearance was unorthodoxly clearer in the dark rather than in bright light. Crouching on its hind legs, it began to circle Osiris in an effort to escape the light which flowed from him. The golden warrior observed it with interest. It had a seemingly frail build, with thin, elongated limbs which ended in sharp claws, and its face beheld a wide mouth which seemed to be transfixed in constant merriment, though the barred black fangs which filled it quickly dispelled such a notion.

Coming to an abrupt halt, the being reared up and stretched its grisly mouth open, uttering a piercing cry which bore into the emptiness around them. Suddenly, more red eyes began to appear around the warrior, who reached for the hilt of his sword.

"So, these vile creatures seek to subdue me? We shall see about that."

Osiris sent forth a burst of energy through his body which ignited a blinding flash of light which was sufficient to startle the unsuspecting creatures. He unsheathed his sword and swiftly extended it below the neck of one of his opponents, who cowered in fear. The others took the opportunity to lunge at Osiris, but the angel was prepared, and with an expeditious swerve of his arm, the Luminattis hewed through several of the creatures, reducing them to a pooling darkness.

The creatures evaporated into the distance with spacious leaps, discerning that the angel was not one to be felled easily. Osiris lowered his weapon but maintained a defensive stand. His assailants had all but vanished, yet the angel could still sense a presence lurking in the dark.

Echoing amongst the vast halls, a steady gallop filled the air as a figure began to approach from whence Osiris had entered. It appeared at first that the figure belonged to a warrior on horseback, yet the angel failed to realise why anyone would bring a steed to such a place. Perhaps he was but an ignorant human, bent on subduing the evil beheld by this place to his own profit.

"Who goes there?" Osiris bellowed into the distance, whilst strengthening the light by which he saw so as to get a better look.

The figure remained silent, seemingly continuing his journey without so much as flinching. Apparently, the stranger had become aware of the winged warrior much before Osiris had seen him. The angel tightened his grip on the hilt, prepared for any possibility. As the figure drew closer, Osiris realised that his adversary was in no way human. There was no steed, the being had the upper body of a man, yet below the waist it had the body of a horse. He appeared powerful and old, his bare chest covered in countless scars, and he exhibited his arms: a heavy sledge and a lengthy spear. The centaur approached Osiris and extended his spear towards the angel's direction in response to the sword he wielded.

"What manner of a being are you?" asked Osiris, a hint of apprehension in his voice, his sword arm rigid with anticipation.

The centaur seemed at ease, his years of experience giving him an airy confidence. He eyed the angel in interest, trying to see behind his tone of arrogance. "I could ask you the same question, winged one," he answered back.

They stared each other down for several minutes. Slightly irritated that his question had been left unrequited, Osiris decided not to push the confrontation further before he could analyze the centaur's agenda. Slowly and cautiously he lowered his sword, and the hoofed warrior responded by withdrawing his spear.

"What is your purpose here?" inquired the angel; his arrogance subsided, yet still detectable.

Chettaren waited for a moment, shuffling his hooves on the rock-strewn ground, and spoke: "I would not be so hasty as to betray my intentions, but rest assured that my will lies in combating the evils this place has spawned. And I have been told about you, fallen one."

Fleetingly bewildered, Osiris looked at the centaur in disbelief. How could he have known about the angel's past? Only God or another angel could have known that about him, let alone this creature which he knew not existed. Such knowledge could only mean this being was of significant importance. Still imbued with wariness and slight arrogance, the angel could not help but feel some respect towards the centaur.

"I know neither your name nor race, yet you know something about me that I would never voluntarily divulge. How you have obtained this knowledge, I cannot hope to speculate. It seems, however, that our interests lie together at present. I too seek to banish this undead evil."

"Then you shall be my ally for the moment, for the foe of your enemy is a companion in arms. And as it appears, we both despise what is evil and demonic." Never shedding his guard, even in light of their tentative allegiance, the centaur lowered his hammer and offered a handshake. "Chetarren."

Despite his residual distrust, Osiris took the shake. "Osiris," he replied.

OOC: Tiroth, I hope you're happy with the way I handled Chettaren. They are now basically reluctant allies, with similar goals. See into what adventure you can get them into.

OoC: Wow, that was fun. ^_^ Drake's making an even better entrance than Blitz did with his first battle! I think its the greater array of possibilities his nature as a sub-human wields. By the way, just so there's no confusion, I decided that I should use the "final version" listed under Non-BA Characters in my signature. Otherwise many of the twists I have planned would be impossible. Seeing as how I know you guys wouldn't have any complaints, I didn't see any problem with it. Besides, it's not as if we will be fighting amongst one another.

BiC:

A dull thump echoed around the dragon, returning almost endlessly to his highly tuned ears, his senses dulling momentarily upon impact. Rising promptly, wary of whatever wicked creature might be waiting to subdue the dragon, he readied his already unsheathed weapon. The air was musty, ancient, as though not breathed in centuries. As the nightwalker observed his surroundings carefully, surprise overpowered awareness. He had no recollection of falling for more than an instant, and yet somehow he had ended up in a cavernous opening, shrouded in almost complete darkness. However, Drake was not fully aware that his surroundings were darkened, as his milky-white eyes quickly adjusted to compensate for the lack of light. All around was nothing but emptiness. By a stroke of luck, the dragon had landed on some sort of pillar which rose up from the infinite darkness; even with his sharp dragon’s eyesight, he could not make out the depths below. Above was ever more emptiness, and no sign of an entrance topside. Clearly, whatever that creature of the night had been, it had somehow transported him to this place beneath Earth’s soil.

Drake was suddenly aware of a presence; the very same presence that he had felt while topside, and now much more lively. It wasn’t the darkness, then, he concluded logically. Whatever he had sensed, for it to be detectable from someplace as distant as the surface meant that it held remarkable power. The creature that he had slain must have been employed to whatever servant of the damned lurked in the deepest shadows of the planet, which also likely meant that there were more of those wispy conjurings. Why they had risen to the surfaceworld, Drake could not discern with his limited information. The darkness element will not be of great effect to them. Should I encounter more, I shall have to rely on my blade.

Deciding to seek out whatever wicked master had hidden itself here, the dragon unfolded his wings and leapt from his lofty platform. As he began to beat the musty air with his black wings, vast emptiness rose up to greet him, and a sensation of being attacked suddenly intruded his mind. Paranoia was not present in Drake’s personality; dragon senses were highly acute, and he had learned to trust them many long years ago. Wielding his weapon in both hands, still gliding ever downward, the dragon-man prepared to face whatever conjurings might assault him. He did not have to wait long, for beady red dots appeared in the distance from all directions, extending upward and downward in an unending column around him. Thousands, perhaps millions, of tiny eyes peered at him from a distance of approximately thirty meters away, eking an eerie sensation even from the dark-minded dragon himself. From his peripheral vision, Drake noticed a pair of bloodthirsty red eyes wink out of existence, followed by a second pair and a third. Here they come.

A shrill screech pierced the cavern, pitch heightened in magnitude by the vague, confining cavern walls. Then, from the infinite darkness, an outline appeared. Even with his heightened senses, Drake had not detected the beast until it was directly before him. Delivering a blind slash with the Twin Shadow, he sent the monster careening into the endless pits below, crying out in terror at its now-inevitable demise. Another swooped down on wings of shadow immediately after Drake had dispatched the first, and he had no time to attack it. “Oof!” The winged darkness collided with the dragon, knocking his flight off-balance and latching onto his back. Unable to maintain flight, he began to fall while above countless tiny red lights disappeared and a sound like that of a demon filled his pointed ears as dozens of the creatures gave chase. Blinding red eyes suddenly opened to Drake’s left as the darkness upon his back glared with hunger. In the hazy light produced by its frightening triangular eyes, he could make out its face upturned in a grim smile, filled with rows of tiny, daggerlike teeth. Wasting no time as Drake beheld the beast in apprehension, its fangs suddenly clamped down on his neck. “Aaugh!” cried the dragon-man, instinctively letting out a burst of darkness energy. With a cry of surprise, the beast was dislodged from Drake’s back and propelled into another of the creatures who now followed into the infinite darkness.

OoC: This post was heavily inspired by The Hitchhikers Guide to The Galaxy. You may be able to guess where I change my style momentarily. I usually don’t write without description... but I couldn’t resist. You may get a kick out of it.

BiC: “Terrin!”

As soon as his name was shouted, he recognized the voice. He brandished Yuthian aloft as a sort of signal, like a lighthouse would beacon for an approaching ship.

The human drew into the quiet island of light in the middle of the sinister darkness that ebbed and swirled around him, and they looked calmly at each other. Terrin was never one to show emotions unless he lost control. The elf held Tokumaru’s gaze for a second longer, then stole more glances at the unfamiliar and rather disconcerting hellish waves curling about their prone forms.

“How did you get here?” asked Tokumaru quietly, not moving his gaze from Terrin.

“Fell,” the elf replied shortly.

“Oh?” Tokumaru grinned. “Mighty elf is suddenly not so mighty without some good old fashioned ground beneath his feet to tread on!”

Terrin shot a quick glare at his companion that clearly told him to knock it the hell off.

“Cut the horse **** and gather your senses, old friend, we’re in trouble. Surely before you came here you sensed the waves of demonic energy that originated from somewhere within this massive underground cave?”

Tokumaru nodded, wondering how Terrin, who was not an angel, could have felt these things.

“These pulses... these waves of darkness surrounding us are direct connections from the point of that demonic origin.”

“The one we felt?”

“The very same.”

“Ah,” said Tokumaru, scratching his nose. “So we’re in trouble. We can’t leave this little island, anymore.”

“Yes,” Terrin answered firmly.

Silence fell between them, disturbed only by the faint sounds of the Darkness Sea slowly eroding away at their little hovel.

“So,” said Tokumaru, just to confirm. “We’re trapped now.”

“Yes.”

“And we’re going to die.”

“Could be.”

“Okay.”

More silence. It was starting to get twitchy and uncomfortable.

“And,” said Tokumaru. “We can’t fly out.”

“No.”

“Why is that?”

“Because the Darkness Sea is above us, too.”

“Oh, I see,” said Tokumaru.

Silence.

“I think,” said Terrin, turning to his friend, “that you are starting to realize the full scale of our current predicament.”

“Yes, I think so, too.”

A voice broke through this very unenjoyable exchange... a feminine voice.

“Hey! Are you two human? Or more demon bastards for me to kill?”

“I’m a human, and he’s a twenty-eight year old elf trapped in a teenage body,” explained Tokumaru back to this invisible woman.

There was a pause. Then: “Interesting.”

“I don’t mean to make things sound overdramatic,” shouted Terrin, “but my companion and I here are in a fair bit of trouble, and if we can’t get out of this Darkness Sea, there’s a fair chance we’re going to die.”

Yet another unbearable, twitchy uncomfortable pause ensued... then the woman said “Darkness hates light. Is there any way you can light yourselves up a bit?”

In spite of their current situation, a devilish grin lit the faces of both elf and human upon hearing those words.

Terrin slightly lifted his palm, and a short skinny plume of ultraviolet fire coupling the heat of the sun roared up about three feet from his open hand. Tokumaru did something similar, only not with Posative Force as his guide. Together, the two little poles of blinding light and heat lashed through the Darkness like soft butter --- the growing tide shivered with displeasure, and the massive wall receded into the air.

The human and elf released the fire, and they once again stood in a dark, craggy corridore.

A female samurai stood ten feet away, staring at them.

“That was truly incredible,” she said. “Quite a display of elemental prowess. Could I perhaps inquire as to what powers you two govern?”

“How about a bit more relevant question,” snapped Terrin testily. He was in a bad mood after the Darkness Sea ordeal. “Why don’t you tell us just who the hell you’re supposed to be.”

She gave Terrin a stony look.

“My name is Shan,” she said dully. “Now how about we get out of this corridore before that Sea returns.”

OoC: I rather enjoyed that

OoC: Alright, guys, I talked to LEA about this and she doesn't have a problem with it. Seeing as how this won't be affecting anyone else's characters, there's really no reason not to go ahead and post the post that I wrote early out of boredom. And this won't affect my place in the order, either. Other than LEA and Shade, everyone should continue as if it wasn't even there.

BiC:

The sound was so high-pitched, so shrill and sharp, that the dragon-man felt nauseated as it battered against him from all directions simultaneously. Dozens of those tiny red eyes all around winked out of existence, joining the multitude that even now followed Drake into the infinite darkness waiting to consume them all far below the soil. Every so often, when one of the beasts blinked, a red orb would flash in the dragon’s peripheral vision, letting him know that they were not far from catching up.

Drake’s face set in grim determination as he calculated his moves. Flying downward was clearly not the best way to evade these foul creatures of the night; there were only two other courses of action. Fighting was certainly out of the question with so many foes gaining on him, which narrowed his choices down considerably. Even as he soared through the infinite depths, the dragon peered downward, but could see nothing beyond himself. It was a risky maneuver seeing as how he could not see the ground, but the alternative was much less desirable. His mind made up, the dragon-man tossed a glance behind, observing as one of the creatures lowered itself next to him. With a burst of darkness energy in its direction, Drake sent it flailing away toward whatever solid surface might present itself.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Drake folded his wings against his back and flattened his arms against his waist, straightening his entire body. In mere moments, he had accelerated into a nosedive. His hair whipped uncontrollably in the musty air, bangs beating against his face and clouding his vision, but he was unconcerned. Furious cries of contempt rose from above as their auras slowly grew dimmer. Perfect, I’m losing them! thought the half-dragon. Not a moment later, a pair of red eyes appeared directly below, rising up to meet him at incredible speed. Drake let out an “oomph” as something latched onto his back, slowing his escape considerably. Excited shrieks sounded from above and behind; he could sense them drawing nearer.

“Get… off of me!” demanded the dragon to his foe, voice lost in the wind. Its face appeared next to his as a tearing sensation went down his left arm. “Augh!” he cried, sparing speed to swat at the monster with his injured arm. But somehow the foul conjuring avoided his appendage, instead biting down into Drake’s hand. “Wretch!” Anger forced its way to the surface of his usually calm demeanor, filling his body with strength. Twisting himself around, Drake disrupted his captor’s balance, and then as it wailed in annoyance, delivered a well placed punch to its head. A smoky substance covered the dragon’s fist as the barbaric summon was hurled away. For only a moment, the dragon-man observed his hand, watching the smoky substance etch across his fingers and into his closed fist. …Blood? he wondered, but his thoughts were interrupted by a motley excited screeches only feet away. Startled, Drake attempted to enter another nosedive, but it was too late.

A claw bit into the small of his back, and two more on his right arm. Ignoring the pain, the dragon tried to unfold his wings to throw them off, but they pressed the leathery, ten-foot growths against his back, making any attempts at flight vain.

A figure! There, below! Someone was standing upon the ground; two people, in fact. Realization, and then sudden dread, filled him. A dull ‘thud’ echoed through his skull as he struck the ground; a tremor of pain rippled through his assaulted body, and the two individuals turned in surprise. The creatures were clawing at him, biting, drawing blood from his arms, back and legs. Consciousness began to wane the instant he had landed, and only one thought was present within the dragon’s vast mind.

He extended a weak arm to the radiant, silvery figure standing before him in alarm, pleading with his eyes. “Help…me….” Countless more dark conjurings collided with his back, joining the voracious group of three. And then, the silvery figure grew dull until it winked from existence, and darkness enveloped him.

OOC: Okay, Bloodsword, just for chronology, I’ve copied your post nearly exactly for our conversation.

BiC: As Tokumaru ran toward the flickering light, his Hazel eyes adjusted to the darkness, and saw that Terrin was waving the Yuthian like a beacon. Tokumaru dropped down to the small circle of light that the Yuthian created.. But for some strange reason, the Hinotama was glowing with a great aura, pulsating irregularly. Tokumaru merely shrugged it off.

“How did you get here?” asked Tokumaru.

“Fell,” Terrin replied.

“Oh?” Tokumaru grinned. “Mighty elf is suddenly not so mighty without some good old fashioned ground beneath his feet to tread on!”

Tokumaru chuckled inside as Terrin shot him a sharp glare.

“Cut the horse ****”, Terrin said, “and gather your senses, old friend, we’re in trouble. Surely before you came here you sensed the waves of demonic energy that originated from somewhere within this massive underground cave?”

Tokumaru nodded, wondering how Terrin, who was not an angel, could have felt these things.

“These pulses... these waves of darkness surrounding us are direct connections from the point of that demonic origin.”

“The one we felt?”

“The very same.”

“Ah,” said Tokumaru, scratching his nose. “So we’re in trouble. We can’t leave this little island, anymore.”

“Yes,” Terrin answered firmly.

Silence fell between them, disturbed only by the faint sounds of the Darkness Sea slowly eroding away at their little hovel.

“So,” said Tokumaru, just to confirm. “We’re trapped now.”

“Yes.”

“And we’re going to die.”

“Could be.”

“Okay.”

More silence. It was starting to get twitchy and uncomfortable.

“And,” said Tokumaru. “We can’t fly out.”

“No.”

“Why is that?”

“Because the Darkness Sea is above us, too.”

“Oh, I see,” said Tokumaru.

Silence.

“I think,” said Terrin, turning to his friend, “that you are starting to realize the full scale of our current predicament.”

“Yes, I think so, too.”

Tokumaru and his Elven friend then walked further down the dark corridor, and it was just then that the pulses of the Hinotama began to pulse greater than before.

"What's the matter, Hinotama?" Tokumaru asked his sword curiously, looking down at it, "You're pulsing strangely... something is afoot, I presume?"

Terrin looked at his friend with confusion, but continued his trek. Tokumaru paused, and followed suit. The Hinotama continued to pulsate in a fearful way, and it did not take too long for Tokumaru to become worried. His sword had a great connection with demons and demonic rituals, for it had stopped and prevented many in its time. But its reaction to the aura within the cave seemed unnatural, which caused its wielder to get uneasy. Soon after this, however, the Hinotama lit up in a sea of flames, as it typically did in Tokumaru's Inferno stage. But Tokumaru hadn't activated Inferno at all, yet the Hinotama’s fire licked up around his feathery wings, breathing a fiery light into each quill.

“Why are you entering Inferno?” asked Terrin. Tokumaru didn’t even respond, and continued looking at his shaking sword.

"Hinotama..." Tokumaru said, looking down fearfully at his blade, "What is going on with you? You've never acted this voluntary in years... and why are you honing your power in on my wings?"

Only seconds afterwards, a booming voice echoed through Tokumaru's mind.

"There is Evil afoot in this cave, my Fire-User, Tokumaru."

Tokumaru's eyes widened, as he "thought" to the person talking to him through his head.

"Hephaestus? Why would you be talking to me at this juncture?"

"Yes, Tokumaru, it is I, Hephaestus. From Olympus, I watched a very demonic object to be forged here. This piqued my interest, for not only am I the God of Fire, but also the God of the Forge as well. Someone of great magical and evil prowess has created something deep within the bowels of this cave, although I do not know quite what it is."

"That explains why the Hinotama is acting so strange." replied Tokumaru, "But can you explain why it has lit my wings up as if I were in Inferno, even though I am only at a normal state?"

"Yes. Whoever created this object has some connection with Angelic Beings, despite his evilness. Your father, Khayoro, was the Angelic Pupil, and so, you inherently have wings, correct?"

Tokumaru nodded.

"I see then. It appears that the person who made this object has a special something in store for the Angels who seek it, and those not Angelic as well. That is why the Hinotama is trying to increase the fortitude of your wings; whoever made the dark object will most likely be after you with specialty."

"Are there others in this cave?" Tokumaru asked curiously.

"Yes, and I can see them all now. I will not anger the Fates by telling you, but I can guarantee that you will meet quite the interesting cast while you venture into this cave. Some shall become good friends, and others will become mortal enemies. Nonetheless, they're all here to do something with that object, as are you. This object, whatever it may be, has the potential to annihilate your mortal world, so, I shall continue to lend you my power. You must stop this object from gaining in strength, is that understood?"

"Yes, almighty Hephaestus."

"Good. I now continue my swear upon the River Styx to give you all the power I have, my Greatest Fire-User, Tokumaru Kyô. Good Luck."

And with that, Hephaestus' voice faded away, and Tokumaru snapped back into reality. Terrin hadn’t heard a word of this, and Tokumaru would’ve explained, had a feminine voice not broken through to interrupt him.

“Hey, are you two human? Or more demon bastards for me to kill?”

The voice came from nowhere, but Tokumaru politely replied.

“I’m a human, and he’s a twenty-eight year old elf trapped in a teenage body,” the samurai said, and was replied by the female voice with: “Interesting…”

“I don’t mean to make things sound overdramatic,” shouted Terrin, “but my companion and I here are in a fair bit of trouble, and if we can’t get out of this Darkness Sea, there’s a fair chance we’re going to die.”

There was a pause, and the female voice echoed: “Darkness hates light. Is there any way you can light yourselves up a bit?”

Terrin and Tokumaru smirked at eachother, and prepared the powers within their bodies. Terrin tapped into his Posative forces, causing awing flames to rise from his hands and enshrine him. Tokumaru captured the Pyronic Energy in the air and his sword, and brought it to life, swarming all around his body and wings. The corridor exploded into a plume of light, illuminating the female speaker. She looked like a samurai, and the moment Tokumaru’s eyes laid vision upon her, he was instantly infatuated.

“That was truly incredible,” the female samurai said. “Quite a display of elemental prowess. Could I perhaps inquire as to what powers you two govern?”

“How about a bit more relevant question,” snapped Terrin testily. He was in a bad mood after the Darkness Sea ordeal. “Why don’t you tell us just who the hell you’re supposed to be.”

She gave Terrin a stony look.

“My name is Shan,” she said dully. “Now how about we get out of this corridor before that Sea returns?”

Tokumaru kept absolutely silent; he had never seen such beauty since Eythinia, and couldn’t take his eyes of the woman for a second.

“Uh…” he said shakily, “Um… er… k… konbawa, Shan-dono…?”

Shan half smiled.

“Konbawa,” she said, “who are you?”

Tokumaru’s face blushed,

“My… uh… my name is… Toku… Tokumaru.”

Shan giggled inside, for she would never show emotion such as that on the outside. It just wasn’t her. But it was just that moment that Tokumaru remembered what Hephaestus had told him, and hastily began to explain to his traveling companions.

OOC: Now, Shrub, when you post, you can start after Tokumaru explains. As long as YOU all understand, and as long as you make it so your CHARACTERS understand, then you don’t need to write it. I just didn’t take the time to have Toku explain because the post was getting too long. So yeah, you might wanna have it as if Tokumaru had already explained, or you can type it out. Whichever you prefer.

OoC: Okay - apologies to everyone for how long this has taken me. I promise I will be more prompt next time. And extra apologies to WotS for snapping at you - I'd had a bad night.

BiC: “Osiris.”

The fallen one’s grip was firm, but he didn’t seek to crush the old centaur’s grip as some others would have. Chetarren decided this was a good thing, partly because it showed Osiris wasn’t seeking to dominate – not yet, anyway – and partly because he would’ve had to return the increased pressure. Not many warriors could fight well with the bones of one hand broken.

Releasing the angel’s hand, the mortal warrior retrieved his old sledgehammer from the ground and turned to look deeper into the cave. It’s many shadows seemed to stare back at him, and the tracker’s finely tuned senses almost screamed that the darkness around them crawled with monsters of all kinds. They held back from the two warriors, seeking to hide against the rock where they could not see.

Osiris followed the centaur’s gaze into the shadows. “They fear the light,” he said grimly, and raised his sword nearer to a guard position. “But they will not fear it forever.”

“Then perhaps we should be elsewhere when they overcome that fear,” the centaur replied, beginning to move further into the catacombs.

Osiris followed the older warrior. “Perhaps we should.”

An uneasy silence rose between the two as they walked further down into the vast cavern, broken only by the quiet whisper of the angel’s wings and the steady beat of foot and hoof. Both warriors scanned their surroundings for the beasts that crowded in the shadows cast by the angel’s light, their weapons held ready for use at a moment’s notice.

After several long minutes, Chetarren stopped where he was and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Osiris turned to face the centaur, a question subtly changing the lines of his face, but the older warrior ignored whatever it was the angel had said and instead called up the magic from deep within his soul. It rose swiftly from the cage his old teacher and friend had released it from, flickering just close enough to be used as swiftly as his more mundane weapons, but far enough away that the power did not overwhelm him.

“Osiris,” he said slowly, “how brightly can you shine?”

“Brightly enough,” the fallen angel replied.

“Then I suggest that we deal with these vermin before they deal with us.” As he said this, Chetarren allowed a small flicker of magic to light up on his palm, where it danced for a moment before dying out.

“There a great many of them –“

“And will be more before too much longer, fallen one.”

Osiris’ eyes flashed for a moment at the reminder of his past, but he nodded and turned away from the centaur. “Close your eyes,” he instructed.

Even with his back turned and hazel eyes closed, the flash of hard white light that Osiris released left spots dancing in the centaur’s vision. But it was evidently worse for the creatures that had been watching them from the shadows the angel had cast – they screeched at the attack on their eyes and continued wailing in pain when it was over.

Snapping his eyes open, Chetarren turned towards the closest screeches and leapt forward, almost crashing down right on top of a demon that had stumbled out from it’s place of concealment. Smashing it down with one powerful strike from his hoof, the warrior turned his spear and hammer on it’s companions and heard Osiris doing the same behind him.

The fight between the two warriors and the monsters that had surrounded them lasted for several long minutes before the demons eventually fled before them. Several times, groups of the more powerful creatures had almost brought one or the other down, attacking with a swiftness that surprised both the young fallen angel and veteran warrior from many directions at once.

When the last of them had gone, Chetarren stood where he was, chest heaving and weapons covered with demons’ blood. He allowed the magic to subside and return to where it awaited his call, thankful that he had not been required to use it and tire himself out as he had in the past.

The old warrior turned towards his companion, reaching for a cloth from the bag slung over his shoulder for a cloth to wipe his hammer and spear clean. The angel was performing the same task with his own weaponry, carefully removing any trace of the creatures from his finely worked blade.

Before either one said anything, a deep, throaty roar rumbled through their bodies and echoed off the vaunted pillars and walls of the cavern. Both warriors turned towards the sound, but couldn’t make out anything until the thing leapt forward.

Myriad red eyes stared out at them from a vaguely humanoid face, lurking in it’s cheeks and beneath it’s flattened nose. The thing pointed a pair of massive curved swords at them, held on the end of thickly muscled arms, and roared again. What light that Osiris was emitting seemed to be sucked into the darkness of it’s skin, making much of it’s body look like the very shadows it had sprung from.

“A greater test of our skills, perhaps,” murmured Chetarren. “Easily overcome, nonetheless.”

Osiris stared at the centaur’s apparent arrogance. “Easily overcome?” he said.

“Try fighting a war against the undead.”

Before the angel could think of a suitable reply, the beast before them leapt again – straight towards where they stood.

OoC: Sorry I wasn't more detailed on the fight, Andúrhil - here's a nice big demon for you to make up for it. ^_^ Please save some for me or come up with another thing to beat up. And apologies if I played Osiris wrong, especially as you did Chetarren so well.

“So this sword is evil?” said Terrin. It seemed more like a restatement to Shan. But it was good to do because it made her ponder more on this mysterious object she was to bring back to Sheinron. No wonder he would want such a powerful sword … Dark Elves were obessed with power.

“Yes, and we’re to put an end to it,” replied Tokumaru. The female samurai’s eyes flickered back over to the man. She did this every so often. Shan had never expected to find another of her kind. No, of her father’s kind. The samurais were a dying culture; she had thought she was the last one. The warrior was still listening to Tokumaru, of course. But this brought on more troubling thoughts … “So … um—Shan, why are you here?”

She turned her purple gaze away from him. The samurai woman did not respond immediately either. She wouldn’t tell him anything, of course. These two were here to destroy the sword that was her freedom and she … there to capture that freedom that always seemed to be just out of her grasp. It would be in her best interest to keep as such a secret. After seeing the power they had displayed, Shan was sure that fighting the both of them would be fatal to her. Especially the Heavenflame. Fire melts ice …

“Same as you, Tokumaru … Kyô, isn’t it?” answered the Half Elf. Shan kept her stare into the dark shadows of the tunnel they were traveling through. “You are the Heavenflame, are you not?”

The man’s hazel eyes blinked with surprise. His face was still glowing lightly. “W-well, yes, I am. How did—how did you know that?”

A half smile curved softly into her thin lips. “I’ve heard many rumors of a samurai who could wield a sword of flame of the heavens … though; I was told the Heavenflame was dead by now.”

Tokumaru gave her a weak smile and a raised eyebrow. The blood rushed to his face once again. What a strange man … Shan had never seen a male human blush as much as he was now. “O-oh, that’s—that’s strange …”

Terrin was walking behind the two samurais. He rolled his green eyes at his friend’s behavior. Shan was glad that neither the elven boy nor the human asked any more questions. In fact, it felt odd to speak. She hadn’t used her words so much for a very long time. Sheinron never asked for her words, not that she would ever want to give them. The people of Delu were not kind. Dark Elves would forever be a violent race. It was best to keep quiet and to herself. She had almost forgotten how kind humans could be…

“So … um … what’s—what’s your full name, Shan?” inquired the Heavenflame. He had barely taken his eyes off of her since they met. He’s such an odd man … Shan had never seen any man act quite like this.

“Shan Masurao.”

Before Tokumaru could ask another question, the three of them walked out of the tunnel and into a deep underground raven of a sort. It was of a cone shape. The top vertex pointed downward, even Terrin’s and Shan’s sharp elven eyes could not see the bottom. The base of the cavern opened up to the sky. It may have been an active volcano at some point in time, it was hard to tell for it was still somewhat dark in spite of the Nasake’s light that glimmered all over the cave. Shan could see all the rounded sides of the raven. The other end was about a few hundred feet away. There were a few other deep corridor openings along the walls. Around the sides of the vast cave was a narrow ledge they stood upon.

“My word …” gasped Tokumaru. His hazel eyes gazed all around the enormous cavern. “Which one?”

Shan took that as referring to the many tunnels. Her amethyst eyes studied each one. There were easily fifteen corridors. Her eyebrows furrowed at the situation. She was not entirely sure which way would be best.

“Wait …” whispered the male samurai. He extended his hand out to his right to point to the third one on that side. “It’s that one.”

“How do you know?” questioned Terrin, he stared forth at the tunnel opening.

“I can feel it …” replied Tokumaru. His once flustered face tensed into an expression of firm resolve. She noticed how his other hand slid down to the hilt of his sword. She could feel the unsettling presence all around her, but not any more than a normal being could. It seemed to be as abundant as the air. All around them in a thick foggy haze. It was impossible to tell from which direction in came.

Fear is not an opinion, Shan told herself. That was what her father told her before the war in Ranelu. When faced with a battle there was no room for fear. The group of three began their travel along the thin ridge. The female found her eyes wondering over to the samurai once more. Tokumaru caught her gaze and flushed a deep maroon. He quickly turned his head away from her. He’s such an unusual one … the thought kept fading in and out of her mind. What was his reasoning for this behavior? But stranger than his acts was the nature of his power. Shan had never heard of a human wielding such a power… Terrin was obviously an elf, which explained his strengths with magic.

“Kyô …” said Shan. His hazel eyes met hers once more. But they looked a little puzzled, probably because she did not call him by his first name.

“Yes?”

“How … is it possible for you, a human, to have such powers?” questioned the female samurai. “I don’t mean that in a rude manner, I just haven’t heard of it before.”

“Oh,” began Tokumaru, his tone sounded as if he had heard this question many times before. “Well, when I was young boy, a mage spilled potions on my arm. It burned off the flesh but after a few months it was healed and I found I could wield the power of fire.”

Shan nodded after hearing this short story. It made sense for it not to be a natural talent. As she stepped forward there was a crackling sound that rumbled underneath their feet. Tokumaru and Terrin both leapt backward by reflex. Shan wasn’t so lucky. The ground crumbled and she fell with her support. All she could do is let out a gasp and tuck her arms in so that she rolled down the side of the cavern.

The female warrior whipped Kushin from her belt and stabbed it down into the soft earth of the cave side. It was no wonder the ground had not been stable. The soil was extremely moist and easily penetrated. They must be near some underground well. It slowed down her decent as she also dug her heels into the steep wall. The joints in her shoulders groaned at her in protest with a deep ache. Finally she came to a halt. Both of her hands clenched the hilt of Kushin. Thank you my brothers … the samurai prayed. As long as she had Kushin and Aisu on her belt, the help of her family was never far away. She filled her lungs deeply with the cool night air. Adrenaline still pulsed through her body. Her shoulders and arms throbbed sharply from the strain of her body weight.

“Shan!” called Tokumaru from the ridge some ten feet above her. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you up!”

“That is quite all right, Kyô. I can get up without your assistance,” replied Shan as she bent her neck to peer back at him. Her tone was neither harsh nor gentle. Tokumaru’s mouth bent into a gentle frown. Whether it was from her calling him Kyô again or the rejection of his offer, Shan couldn’t be sure. This is easy enough … I don’t need his help. The warrior’s pointed ears prickled from underneath her brown hair. An odd noise came to her attention. It was a sort of scraping sound of something climbing the face of the cavern…it was getting rapidly louder. Whatever it was, it was coming fast and there were a lot of them.

“Kyô!” she shouted back up at him once more. She was still dangling from her short katana, her hand remained cool and her grip firm. “There’s something coming!”

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to look around her arms. She stomach clenched at what she saw. Littering the cavern walls were many small creatures. Their skin was a deathly pale; it was the look of something that had never felt the warm touch of the sun. Their bodies were freakishly thin and lanky. They had long arms and short legs. All their backs were hunched into a C-shape. Large, black eyes stared all around her, glittering in the moonlight. They all had small flat noses with small ears that were also flattened against their heads. Their lips remained in a straight line. Their small hands and feet clung to rocks and the soft earth in the cavern walls.

Hundreds of these fiends surrounded faster than Tokumaru could even call back to her. Shan refused to panic; her father had taught her not to panic. It was not in her nature to fail him even in death. She closed her eyes gently, breathing slowly. A white-ish mist gathered around her body and Kushin. The stale air around her became bone-numbingly cold. Tokumaru’s and Terrin’s breath became a mist as it exited their mouths. Ice spread from the point where her sword’s blade met the wall and grew downward like a tiny, frozen waterfall. It stopped at her feet and gathered, jetting out to make a small edge for her to land on. The female samurai quickly shoved her feet against the wall and jerked her katana from it, she landed softly on the icy platform with one knee bent and the other against the ice. Her fingers were placed to the floor for balance.

Her eyes gazed around at their ghastly faces, her brow furrowed and she tightened her jaw. She was standing in the middle of a throng of demons, white demons. It made more sense to her that white would be more of a demonic color. It was the color of nothingness. There would be no more mercy among their kind.

They simply stared at the samurai with blank, unreadable faces. She wasn’t of a dull mind … she knew they would attack. It was just a matter of time. But to add to her situation, the ice platform she had conjured was not very large which would make it difficult to fight them. She would not have time to make the platform any larger either. She slid Kushin back into its sheathe and withdrew Aisu. She slowly pulled up on the crimson and blue hilt, showing little of the cold steel to the creatures. One next to her on her right smiled. It was the most disturbing grin she had ever seen on a being. Its eyes widened and its lips twisted upward, so far up that Shan was sure it was abnormal. Identical smiles spread through the crowd, all grinning terribly at the female samurai. They let out ear piercing shrieks and leapt at her.

Shan let Aisu fly from her belt. The mist from before covered the long blade of her katana. It was easy enough to cut them all down with a simple slash of Aisu, for she only needed one cut to kill them. If they came in contact with the cold steel, it was simple for her to freeze them soild. To be frozen soild only worked on weak beasts, it was impossible to do with stronger warriors. The white demons dropped like flies, tumbling down into the pit below them. Some of their limbs snapped off after the ice had made them brittle. More and more launched themselves at her, screaming like they had before. The pace of their siege increased and no matter how fast Shan sliced them away, two more would take one creature’s place.

In spite of Shan’s efforts one of the small beasts dodged her katana and wrapped its lanky arms around her leg. The samurai gasped, this slowed her action too much and allowed for another to attach itself to her back. Another jumped forward onto her other leg. Shan tried to shake them off but the two on her legs caused much imbalance. She stumbled and fell off her icy support. Damn! The one on her back sank its small but jagged teeth into her shoulder and gnawed.

Tokumaru and Terrin had been watching from above since she first fell. They watched as she formed a platform of ice. Both were shivering from the sudden chill that had crept upon them.

“So she doesn’t mention her ability to use magic,” said Terrin, looking over the edge when Shan had landed on her icy support. “At least that explains why it’s so cold.”

“Well … she isn’t very talkative, is she?” the male samruai had said in response. He smiled at the elf brightly. However, Terrin was not paying attention. His green eyes had caught the glow of pale skin in moonlight and he gasped,

“Look!” He pointed to the many creatures crawling along the walls. Tokumaru followed the direction and his hazel eyes widened. His gaze zoomed back over to Shan. Thousands of the little beasts were attacking her. The Heavenflame stepped forward, but Terrin flung his arm out to stop him.

“Wait … she seems to be doing pretty good,” observed the elf. None of these white demons had yet to lay one thin finger on her. There were flashes of her katana and many fell back into the abyss below them.

“Wow …” breathed Tokumaru as he stared at the woman below fending off her attackers. The samurai smiled in admiration, his eye ssoftening with it. They both continued to study the warrior fight off the demons. “Do think you we should go help her?” asked the samurai. He looked over at the black-haired elf, his eyes were tense with concern. Terrin look back at him but shook his head.

“No, she can handle herself and how would you plan to land safely on that tiny ledge? We would slide right off it,” replied Terrin. They both heard her voice echo off the walls, it was a simple grunt of pain but the cavern played back every noise. They both leaned back over the edge to see the young warrior falling back, three of the creatures attached to her. One was biting her shoulder. Blood gushed from the wound it had created and Shan let out a grunt but grinded her teeth together.

“Oh no!” cried Tokumaru. The samurai leapt over the edge jumping down to the steep walls. Terrin gasped but leapt after him. They both bent their knees and grounded their heels and pushed off, running down the side as if it was flat ground. Shan was, again, rolling down the side. She had been hoping it would knock the little devils off her. It had worked with the two on her legs but the demon on her back was still bitting ravenously at her shoulder. She felt its teeth scrap her shoulder bone.

“NAHHH!” yelled the samurai, and she pulled Kushin from her belt again. The blade was forced back into the creature’s black eye and deeply penetrating its brain. Black fluids oozed from the thing’s injury. She yanked it off her back with Kushin and kicked it away. With the next roll she stabbed it back into the wall again and dug her heels into it to slow her decent. Her head jerked up asshe peered through strands of dark brown hair, to see Tokumaru and Terrin running down the walls. They were going extremely fast due to the slant of the walls. Thousands of the white demons were trailing behind them.

Shan’s body was covered again with an icy aura. Ice shot through from Kushin and into the wall like it had before. It spread out into a larger platform than before, about a few feet underneath her. That should be big enough for the both of them … The female samurai jerked her sword out and dropped down once again to her icy ground. Tokumaru and Terrin aimed for the platform. The Heavenflame was the first to reach it. However, the speed at which he wa going was too fast for him to slow down enough for him not to slide right off it. When his feet landed on the slick ground, he slid forward. Lucky for him, Shan caught him around the waist before he could reach the edge. Her once nimble feet slipped on the ice and they both fell hard to the platform. Her torso landed on the Heavenflame’s chest with her arms still wrapped around him.

“Ah … sorry,” said Shan, she quickly pushed herself up to her knees. Tokumaru laid flat on his back, his face was flushed once more. He pushed himself up on his elbows.

“N-no p-problem … heh,” laughed the samurai, it was short and nervous chuckle. Something white came skidding onto the platform. At first Shan thought it was a demon, but then quickly recognized Terrin’s black hair. The elf dug his heels down, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He slid off the platform edge.

“Terrin!” yelped Tokumaru, he leapt forward onto his stomach to catch the back of the boy’s shirt just in time. The elf gasped as the front collar of his shirt pushed into his wind pipe, cutting of his air. The male samurai yanked him back up onto the platform. The boyish-looking elf rubbed his throat, coughing a little bit. “Oh … sorry about that,” said the Heavenflame, noticing his friend’s discomfort.

Shan stood up, putting Kushin back as she said, “It’s going to get a little cold.” Her freezing aura returned, making the temperature drop dramatically. Terrin and Tokumaru immediately felt the affects of the ice samurai’s power. The elf wrapped his arms around himself and began to shake almost violently. The Heavenflame wasn’t as affected as Terrin, but it did make him hugged himself as well. He shook slightly too.

Her eyes were closed gently, like she was in some profound meditation. The ice platform grew along the cone-shaped walls and grew in toward the center until it looked like a frozen lake. The ice glittered beautifully with the moonlight over head. It reflected the light all around them, dancing all along the walls of the strange raven. Slowly, the temperature began to rise back up and the fog around Shan faded out. She bent down onto one knee, panting slightly. No sweat ran form her face, in fact, it was hard to tell what caused her exhaustion. Tokumaru regained his temperature almost immediately as if nothing had happened, but Terrin’s teeth were still chattering.

“Shan, are you okay?” asked the male samurai. His hazel eyes glanced at the wound on her shoulder. Blood was still pulsing from it, but she didn’t seem fazed by it. He quickly offered a hand to help her up. The Half Elf bent her head up and stared past his hand, gazing directly at him.

“Yes,” answered Shan flatly, and she stood back up without taking his hand. “We have more things to be concerned about, Kyô.”

Tokumaru frowned again, at her not taking his hand and for her calling him Kyô once more. His hazel eyes almost looked hurt and his face grew pink again.

“The demons,” said Shan, bobbing her head over at the caven walls. They were completely surrounded. Black eyes glimmered all around them, watching and waiting. Their cursed skin glowed.

“Allow me,” said the Heavenflame. He lifted a single arm directing it at the fiends upon the cavern walls. Flames shot forth and consumed them. Their shreiks did not last long, for they were cut short by his fire. He rotated around on his feet, turning them all into ashes. The ice underneath his feet was becoming slushy and weak. Shan bent down and placed a hand on the floor, slowly freezing it but not enough to make his feet stick. Once they were all desposed of, he turned to face his friends. “There, all done.”

Shan stared blankly at him for a moment and then turned her attention to pulling something from her belt. Terrin wasn’t shaking as much as before, Tokumaru’s flames had heated up the placed considerably. The female took a brown leather bag from her side, twisted off the cap, and tipped it to her lips. She drank deeply for a few seconds and then screwed the cap back on and tied it back to her belt.

“So …” said Tokumaru in the silence, he stared down at the ice beneath his feet. “How did you do that with the ice?”

“… magic,” replied Shan, but nothing more. The samurai raised an eyebrow at her. She noticed how the blood rushed to his cheeks. He’s blushing … again.

“Uh … but you … um … don’t look like a … an elf,” stated Tokumaru, stammering again. Shan’s eye twitched at his words. Her ears were always hidden in her hair, they weren’t nearly as long as a normal elf’s. She had a very good reason for hiding them. The Dark Elves hated half-breeds. Especially human half-breeds. The people in her old village also weren’t too kind about her elf heritage. Her lips thinned noticeably and her eyes narrowed with discomfort. She wasn’t even sure what had disturbed her about what he said. Mention of her half-blood always brought a discomfort to tingle deeply inside. The Heavenflame realized her bothered face.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” Tokumaru apologized, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. However, the woman pushed back her hair to show short but pointed ears. They weren’t long like a real elf’s but extremely pointed. She turned her head to better show him and to hide the shame in her eyes.

“I’m half …” she whispered and she stomach clenched as those words left her lips.

“Oh—” he began but the slippery ice beneath him made his feet slide. The samurai fell to the platform once again, making a loud thump. Shan gave him her hand, unlike herself, he smiled and took it, chuckling in his embarrassment.

“Whoa!” yelped Tokumaru, after taking her hand. “You’re freezing.”

Shan looked down at her hand. She felt normal, of course, normal to her was fairly chilling compared to others. Tokumaru being a man of the flames made it a little more intense. His hand had also left a shockingly warm touch on her flesh. Shan’s mouth curved into a half smile and she took a step closer to him.

“And you’re burning up,” said the woman, and she placed her palm on his cheek. His hand went up and pressed hers against his skin. The half smile on her lips faded. Her purple eyes sank into his hazel ones. The warmth of his hand and face spread into her arm … she had never enjoyed a heat like this before. Her heart began to thunder madly in her chest. His warmth was so … gentle and loving. His heat was so different from Sheinron’s. Sheirnon’s heat was sufficating and she always felt like she was being smothered when he touched her. Tokumaru’s was … melting her so wonderfully. It spread down into her chest and licked her icy heart, melting it into calm waters. And for once the man was not blushing. He was simply gazing deeply back at her. His thumb softly stroked her hand and he gave it a gentle squeeze. Shan felt her face heat up, she knew the blood was rushing upward to her flesh. His hazel eyes … they’re so … beautiful. This feeling was so alien to her, so unfamilair that it almost frightened her. But the fear felt so oddly pleasant, this terror was … amazing. But it was too much for her to contain, it felt too good to hold onto. She quickly recoiled her hand away from him and swiftly turned away.

“We … must be going, Kyô…” she said.

OoC: Oooooooh, love is in the air! Lol, sorry this took forever but I was busy ya know. How do you like it, Safer? I thought it a nice touch for her to never call him by his first name. Well, Bloodsword will have to explain how they get back up the cavern with his next post. I wasn’t sure what Terrin’s reactions would be to all this so it would be good to see his thoughts.

OoC: YES!!! Finally, I can post!!!

IC:

Mariana stared intently at the figure before her, his unnaturally ruby eyes holding her captivated. She concluded that he must not be human, but what exactly he was remained a mystery to her. He was no demon; she was sure of that. But the faint scent of blood still tickled at her senses as she watched him sip at his container, and the angel could not understand why.

"So, what kind of missionary are you, coming to such a place? Or did God truly send you here? I came here on instinct: I was spiritually drawn here, and painfully so."

"Do not think me rude when I say my explanation of being here is just as likely as yours...and you still haven't given me your name,” he countered smoothly, effortlessly.

“Not at all.” From what she could make out in the dim light afforded by the nearby cave entrance, the figure was sleekly built and garbed all in black. His hair fell in ebony waves to his shoulder blades. The casual manner in which he talked to her made Mariana unconsciously relaxed. But it was those shining twin pinpoints of red that made her pulse quicken as they looked at her.

“Are you okay?” She had noticed a strange look in his eyes and wondered if perhaps something was amiss. When he didn’t respond, she continued observing him in what little light was available to her. His dark clothing blended well with the surrounding shadows, so it was difficult for her to discern much of his appearance. The most prominent feature she could see at the moment were his eyes, those eyes that held her gently in place as if he were holding her physically with his arms. They seemed to call to her very spirit, though she did not know why. She could wander lost for days in those eyes…

Not wishing for him to realize she was staring, Mariana quickly dropped her gaze to the floor, folding her arms across her chest. She remained like that through the ensuing minutes of silence. Deciding she should at least introduce herself, the angel looked up and opened her mouth to speak.

“My name is Mariana.” She hesitated before working up the courage to continue. “And I’d like to know—”

Her request for information was abruptly interrupted by the sounds of a struggle overhead. The screeching, cackling cries of what Mariana instantly knew as demonic filled the cavernous area the pair stood in. A gigantic body suddenly smashed into the hard, rocky floor mere feet away from the silver-robed angel, and she whirled away from her first encounter in these intertwined catacombs to face her second. She was unable to readily discern his appearance other than his enormous size due to the trio of viciously clawing shadows affixed to his back. The being was still coherent enough, even after his incredible fall, to utter a plea for help.

“Help…me…”

Like ants swarming over a freshly dropped piece of food, the shadow conjurings enveloped the being in a mass of ripping claws and shredding fangs. Mariana watched in horror as the massive figure lost consciousness, blood pouring from the myriad wounds inflicted by the vociferous creatures. The being’s plight tugged at her heartstrings, and she knew she had to do something. Gathering moon element in her hands, the angel sent a blast into the scrambling horde to scatter them. Taking advantage of the brief respite provided by the temporary dispersion of the howling throng of demons, Mariana rushed to the giant’s side. She couldn’t help him regain consciousness, but she could at least stem the flow of blood streaming in rivulets down his…

Scales?!

She had no more time to ponder this phenomenon before the raging tide of demonic creatures had roared to life again. They surged forward, surrounding Mariana and the unconscious creature in a sea of gleaming red eyes, their teeth fully exposed and dripping eagerly with saliva. It seemed they would overwhelm her, but she remembered the power residing within her. Drawing on the energy of the Argentsigna, Mariana channeled the holy flood of power through her body and outward, projecting a shimmering shield around both her and the wounded creature that utterly destroyed those demons unfortunate enough to be caught inside it. The rest left still in existence shied back from the pulsating holy aura and retreated back into the shadows of the caverns to locate easier prey. In a sudden rush of realization, Mariana remembered the other enigmatic figure.

“Hey! Uh…get in here so you’ll be safe!”

As she scanned the darkness, she finally found those engaging ruby eyes again, and the voice that accompanied them echoed across the hollowed-out room.

“The name’s Maximilian, but you can call me Max, babe. Listen, I think I’ll just sit tight over here while you take care of him. Okay?”

Mariana was puzzled. Why did he refuse her protection? “But surely you would rather come over here where you will be guarded against those demons.”

Max shook his head. “No, really. I’m fine over here.”

Something was up, and Mariana knew it. “There’s something you’re not telling me…”

Dissipating the shield, the angel rose to walk slowly over toward the dark figure. She felt drawn to him like a magnet, feeling as though she were no longer in control of her own body. It seemed fate itself pushed her toward him, and she was powerless to do otherwise. And those glowing eyes drew her in, refusing to release her. “Just…what…are you?” she whispered into the shadows. She attempted to ignore the little voice inside her that incessantly repeated itself.

The last time you trusted a tall, dark, and handsome stranger, Mariana, you ended up raped, marred, and emotionally torn.

She had reached Max and halted inches in front of him. There was silence between them except for Mariana’s slow, rhythmic breathing. Despite the noxious scent surrounding him, the angel began to experience a desire to touch him, to wrap her arms around him and stay there. She blinked once and started to tremble. These feelings…she hadn’t felt this way since…

No, that was different. That was a fleeting crush, a short burst of passion. This… She ran her eyes up over his chest and landed her gaze back on his own. This is something more…something much stronger. But…I still don’t know what he is, and it’s time to find out.

She channeled lunar elemental through her hand, causing it to shine with a revealing light, and held it up to Max’s face. As she studied his pale complexion, the pieces began to fall into place. The aversion to holy energy, the scent of blood…

“Open your mouth.”

Max was visibly taken aback. “What?”

“I said open your mouth. Let me see your teeth. Just do it!”

Knowing the angel had figured out what he was, Max complied with her demand and revealed his characteristic fangs. Mariana shrank backwards, but she was unable to tear her eyes from his face.

“You’re a… You’re a…”

“Vampire, yes. What’s the matter? I told you I wouldn’t bite, babe.”

Brief indignation flared in Mariana’s eyes. “My name isn’t babe!” She shut her eyes and turned her entire body away from Max, as if to dismiss him as just some nonexistent vision. “I told you. It…it’s Mariana.”