[ Insert unnecessarily stuffy thread title here ] #1 (HA, QUARK, FOTW, JAY, GD)

A pleasant autumn zephyr cascaded across the grassy fields, a gentle prelude to the early morning sun rising above the fleeing mists. Alone in the vastness of it's surroundings, a sturdy tree crowned the top of a hillock, it's golden canopy providing refuge to the one who lay beneath it. A sudden gust of wind stirred the long branches, causing a flurry of different hued leaves to come loose and descend upon the golden armours of the angel resting against the trunk.

His wings were folded about him like a comforting blanket, shielding him from the pain he felt inside. He lay asleep, relishing the brief moments in which he could escape all the memories which incessantly haunted him. Had his eyes not been hidden by his helm, the savoured serenity he was now experiencing would be blatantly apparent.

Subtle disquiet invaded his sleep, and his wings rustled in anxiety as he slowly returned to consciousness. There was a disturbing smell in the air, one of burning. Osiris rose to his feet in earnest, trying to discern the source of the almost overwhelming stench. Plumes of tarnished smoke arose from behind a tree-line to the north-west, and the faint cries of battle echoed from afar.

Extending his magnificent wings in all their pearly-white splendour, he took to the golden skies, eager to discover what evil beset this place. Gaining significant height, he could clearly distinguish the source of the fumes.

A remote village stood some distance away, nestled amidst a forest clearing. The signs of battle were self-evident, the wooden structures burning uncontrollably and staining the airs with black fumes. It appeared all but abandoned, yet there lay scattered bodies upon the bare street, most of them warriors, though there were also women and children.

Osiris landed amidst the carnage, disgusted by the atrocities surrounding him. He had no sympathy for humans, but such evil-doing his heart could not suffer. Clenching his fists in fury, he walked amongst the smouldering ruins, barely able to contain his seething rage.

Sensing movement some distance ahead, he reached for the hilt of his sword, unsheathing it with an efficient flick of his forearm and holding it at his side in a defensive position.

"Who goes there?" he bellowed. His voice echoed about the deserted village, yet no answer reached his ears. Trudging carefully along the soot-laden ground, he made towards the source of the sound. The disturbance repeated itself, this time accompanied by a whimper.

The angel quickened his pace, a sense of urgency permeating his being. Hunched up against the side of a half-demolished structure, lay a woman in her early twenties. Osiris froze in disbelief for a brief moment, for the girl bore much resemblance to his deceased wife.

Another pitiful cry left the woman's lips, returning the angel to his senses. Her white dress was drowned in her own scarlet blood which flowed incessantly from her body, hinting at her severe injuries beneath. Judging from her defeated expression, the angel deduced that she had most probably been raped as well.

Laying his blade aside and quickly removing his helm, he kneeled beside the shattered creature. He fought to keep back the grimace which would otherwise spread across his face, because the very sight of the woman tore him apart.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, her face a contortion of hopelessness. Placing a comforting hand on the woman's forehead elicited another fearful whimper from her, but the angel brought his other hand to his lips, signifying that she needn't be afraid.

Placing his free palm upon her chest, he used his energy to attempt to heal her. His hand glowed golden as he channelled the light element. The effects of his aid began to show, for the woman's expression softened, and calmness fell upon her features.

"Have... have you come... for me?" she muttered, her voice barely audible.

Osiris moved his other arm from her forehead and placed it behind her back, gently supporting her. "No, it is not your time yet. You have much to live for still."

The woman met his golden eyes for a brief moment, a hopeful smile spreading across her face, before closing her eyes. Her breathing began to regulate and slow down, but to Osiris' horror, it came to an abrupt halt, and the light emanating from his hand faded.

Still supporting her in his arms, he looked at her in disbelief. Had she... had just died in his arms? Despite all his efforts, despite his soothing words... she was dead. A stunned expression gripped his features, an expression which quickly changed to anger. With a fearsome cry of fury, he brutally dropped her limp body to the ground and stood up, looking away.

"Damn it!" he shouted to his surroundings, before mustering all his strength and kicking his helm into the distance. Overwhelmed by his fury, he sat on his knees besides the girl, unsure of what to do.

"Damn them..."

Oreit watched, waited, scanned the environment. The burning houses were no trouble, he was used to havoc... corpses everywhere was unnerving. Most Fadeykin have no qualms about killing, violence, even a gruesome scene such as this, but Oreit was unique... different... unusual. No Fadeykin before him had been so good, and no Fadeykin before him had ever let it fall. He was unique, different, unusual, and completely a failure in the eyes of his entire race.

This... is wrong, his mind told him, surveying the damage and the conquest that some tribe or army had incurred, Loss of life such as this is needless, useless even, and serves no purpose. This was a slaughter for no cause whatsoever, and it was based on the whim of murderers. He could feel himself slip into a slightly depressed state, eying the battlefield and ignoring the burning roof that sheltered him. His feet were on firm ground, but his heart was below it.

Turning slowly, he watched the visitor... an angel. It seemed unlikely, but Oreit had seen enough strange things to make this seem... elementary. A conquest occurs, of course there will be an avenging angel for it. Unfortunately, this is never the case. The angel was likely here for another reason... though what business it was of his Oreit had yet to determine.

Stalking silently through the shadows, Oreit made his way closer to the angel, eying him up and down to see what specifically the being could want in a half-destroyed village. What he discovered surprised him. A woman lay on the ground in front of him, and he was obviously infuriated over something... Ah... she died. The woman had suffered numerous wounds, enough to kill anyone... but why the angel should be so angered by this was a puzzle to Oreit, who had never held any long attachments.

Sitting directly onto the ground, the young Fadeykin began meditating silently on what this could mean, why the village had been targeted. There are hills in all directions... this village is in a valley of sorts, it is a perfect place to establish a stronghold. Perhaps whoever attacked coveted the land on which this settlement lay... there are too many unknowns here. There is no evidence of what or who caused this. His breath caught short for a moment as a thought entered unbidden, It could have been a single man.

His eyes sought out the angel once more, the kneeling form before a corpse. He could have done it... but he would not have. That was no doubt in Oreit's mind, but he would perhaps know more about this terror. Oreit would have to take the chance. Rising slowly, he padded forward while his robe fell, heading silently for the large being.

"What happened here," he demanded softly, barely raising his voice above a whisper but still demanding an answer without the slightest thought to who he was addressing. He desired answers, and if this angelic being did not provide suitable words to fill that need, he would search for his own answers. Either way... Oreit would know what occurred at this place.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” the foxfolk yelled, in sync with his fists wailing down on the charred floor, nearly breaking through it. “Why did I kill them?” He ran over the events which had happened a day earlier.

There was the scent of blood. I ran to it, and found this village. There were men, burning down houses, raping the women, and killing anyone they met along the way. I-I lost control of myself, and jumped into a rampage. I killed the men, but couldn’t regain control, and killed everyone else... Latio stood up from the corner of one of the few standing houses, and garbed himself in the cloak that lay beside him. It was neutral grey, with a thin dark rim. The design of three parallel claw marks, with a thin sword piercing them was embroiled on the back. It reached down to his heels, and had a hood which was large enough to hide his snout. The cloak hid the scars and bloodstains of the previous battle.

The fox heard a clanking noise outside the house, and on the other side of the cobblestone street was an angel holding a dead woman, and another person. He tried to sneak away, but was spotted by the second person.

The startled Argonian had been running from a rampaging group of terrific creatures for a good half-hour now. Although she had finally managed to lose them. She soon came to a destroyed village, there were soldiers, women, and children lying on the ground in puddles of there own crimson fluids.

"Wha... What happened here?" She questioned. Her eyes devestated with a look of terror.

A man came out from a destroyed building and stared her down. "Something amazing, and I'll show you," he said sickly. He held a sword and approached her in a way she knew she wasn't going to let him get to her.

"Don't you wish?" She taunted with an annoyed look on her face. Letting him get a little closer, she pulled her sword and instantly stabbed the man, through his chainmail. Straight through the heart. "Don't even think about touching me, you sicko." She pulled her sword, and turned her back walking away, the man lying there in a puddle of blood.

She soon came to three figures standing in the road. One was an angel, the other, a fox like man, and the last. Was a man in a cloak. She held her sword and shield in a defensive stance, just to make sure she was ready for anything. "What happened here?"

In the gentle caress of the wind, there were two figures.

Upon a first glance they looked like something from a fairy tale- one was an angel, after all. The couple were an unlikely pair, brought together by destiny’s fickle hand.

They were both female- one looking to be a young woman, not far out of her teen years. The other was slightly older, and was dressed in less modern attire. This one had glorious white wings protruding form her back, and her blonde hair was continually being flicked around by the breeze. The girl sitting beside her was occupied with something else- her nose was raised slightly in the air, sniffing something.

“Is that smoke?”

The heavenly figure standing next to her peered curiously down at her, then sniffed as well. Sure enough, the unmistakeable scent of flame drifted into her nostrils.

“It is…” She murmured softly.

The girl sitting at her feet got up, staring straight ahead. At her side was a wonderful sword’s sheath, decorated with many different colours (the most prominent being white) and lined with gold. Emerging from the top of it was a hilt of a sword- it was fully platinum with silver wire wrapped around it, acting as grip. A pommel stone was fitted perfectly into the end of the handle.

The wielder of the sword unsheathed her blade and pointed it into the distance, letting the power of wind from the sword flow into her and allowing her to smell where it was coming from.

“It’s coming from over there.”

The angel next to her spread her wings and her hair suddenly started growing, stopping when it met with her shoulders. The woman threw her hand into the air, and a quick flash of light illuminated her.

“Sanctus annuo ego celeritas…”

The angel grabbed Amy’s hand and closed her eyes.

“Forgive me if this frightens you, Amy…”

A small squeak from Amy indicated that they were gone.


The fading stream of a perpetual breeze flowed around Leliel's white robe, making it flow lazily in tune with the air. The angel breathed in deeply and looked down at the wreckage beneath her, her head slightly bowed as if praying.

The scene was strangely terrifying. Who possessed the power to ransack a village like this and leave no trace of it’s presence behind? Leliel felt fear for the first time in a long while. Amy and Leliel had not fought together much.

Amy plodded over to the holy being, her movements shaken and uneven. She had still not recovered from Leliel’s “flying” and probably never would. It was a sacrifice she would have to take to travel with her. The young summoner looked disturbed by leliel's tortured appearance, and layed a hand on her shoulder.

Leliel’s mind was disturbed. Images of restless spirits and malicious intentions mingled together, creating a mixed up jumble of voices. Leliel squinted and cleared her head, focusing on one lone soul. She channelled into the plane of the lost and communicated with it.

Do not be alarmed. What has happened here?

The reaction was that of surprise- there was a questioning thought from the spirit.

I am an arch-angel. I shall attempt to help you and others to pass over to the other side.

There was a pause. Then an image flashed into Leliel’s mind. Armoured soldier marched into the village, many holding torches in their hands. They did not turn sideways, or move out of tune. A woman walked into of the street and a soldier thrust his blade into her heart, causing her to drop dead. Another solider bent down and lit the body alight. Leliel could sense a much stronger force behind the small army, and the mind of an animal, almost; it was unidentifiable. There was a sad thought from the spirit, then one of thankfulness. It had passed onto the other side, after finally confiding her death to someone.

Amy, meanwhile, was examining a strange fountain situated directly in the middle of the village. There was a statue fashioned out of marble placed in the middle of the fountain- it depicted a cherub with a vase pouring a cascade of water into the pool beneath it. Its beauty was lost to the girl, as countless bodies had been thrown into the fountain.

A soft padding noise behind the summoner caused her to whip around, only to see Leliel. She sighed in relief.

“I thought you were someone else…”

Suddenly a loud clanging noise echoed throughout the alley. Leliel looked directly to the east.

“Someone is here.”

"You could have saved them if you got here sooner." The darker voice scolded in its usual eerie manner.

"There's nothing he could have done!" the light thoughts whispered in response.

"Please, quiet!" Cross snapped suddenly, interrupting the two. He poked his middle fingers in the side of his temples, attempting to rub away the two headaches that never left his mind. He always felt awkward trying to speak with them, even though they had been in his mind his whole life. The light meant no harm to him, but it seemed that's all it ever brought. The Dark seemed to want to torture and kill Cross, but at the same time Cross found him self obeying it more than the light. Someday he would find a way to make them both leave.

Cross opened his eyes once more. The black blindfold that covered his eyes would have blinded a normal human's vision completely, but not Cross'. He wasn't a normal human. His eyes gazed directly through the thick black cloth and onto the destroyed village that lay scattered before his concealed eyes. "Who could have done this?" Cross asked the voices.

"Why don't you open your eyes and see?" The dark asked, seeming to command him rather than request.

Cross shut his eyes, his curiosity always got the better of him. The way the village had been destroyed was brutal and seemed impossible. He had to know what did it, yet he feared to see again.

"If you wish to use your powers the way we once did, you will need to learn to see without fear." the light agreed, for once, with the dark.

Although he really didn't want to do it, he knew that he couldn't keep his eyes closed forever. Slowly, Cross reached for the blindfold that Red had given him. He grabbed it with both hands, but hesitated. His brow began to sweat, his arms growing weak. He shook and fumbled with the strip of cloth before he flung it off.

He had to keep himself from screaming in horror. He had done this several times before, but it was always too much for him to handle. Spirits of the deceased flew through the air, screaming to be set free. Specters of the past; some begging for life, while others yearned for death. Demons and angels swept through the air as well in their constant supernatural battle. A few of them were reapers, grabbing the souls who deserved to ascend into Paradise, or whose fate was to fall into Hades.

Cross couldn't move, petrified with fear. Never had he seen so many spirits in one place, neither had he seen so many demons. Something of great evil decimated this place, something that his curiosity nagged him to find.

With a gasp he quickly tied the blindfold back around his eyes. "I'm not ready to adjust just yet."

Ooc: Sorry it took so long, I didn't even see this topic. It's also not that great, my CJ's are dried up right now.

Looking up from the blood-sodden ground, the angel's golden irises locked with the assassin's questioning black ones as he turned towards him. The man's voice was low and collected, yet its timbre demanded attention from the listener. Casting his eyes towards his blade, which lay on the ground several feet out of his reach, he realised the vulnerable situation he had placed himself into. Eyeing the assassin cautiously, he quickly rose to his feet.

"Why do you question [i[me[/i], human?" he replied harshly. Something like this..." he paused for a moment, gesturing towards the chaos, "Is the work of humans. So it is you who I should be asking that."

Before there was a reply, a cloaked figure darted through the nearby shadows, its movements detected by the Fadeykin's keen senses. As the assassin turned his gaze towards the possible threat, the angel found the opportunity to reach for his sword. Holding it in a defensive position, he followed the other man's line of sight and spotted the unknown being for himself.

"You there, show yourself!" he shouted towards the figure.

"What happened here?" asked a female voice from behind them, almost in mimicry of the assassin's previous demand. The voice belonged to a somewhat odd-looking young woman with red and white hair, adorned in various forms of armour. What piqued the angel's interest the most, however, were the leathery wings protruding from her back.

Demon...

Oreit sighed, ever so quietly, in frustration. Too many people had become part of this little problem of his, all of them factors and anomalies in the grand equation of his little problem here at... what looked to be the horrible little crash site of two separate armies. The woman had wings, the angel– this was, oddly enough the second angel to appear– was an angel, and the human with... something strapped to his hip. Oreit ignored them, for the most part, focusing instead on the same being he had addressed the first time.

He thinks that I may have caused this, or that it was my kind that did such a thing, Oreit wondered, knowing immediately that it was none of his tribe, though they were no longer his, that had caused such destruction. He certainly hadn't done so, though it would be easy enough to complete had he enough reason to do so. Not quite as intuitive as other angels, I would think, but most definitely sincere. That, at least, can be given to him.

Taking a moment to contemplate something, for Oreit, was essentially like waiting for a friend that had just arrived: pointless and wasteful. Because of this, the young Fadeykin took absolutely no time to think of his response, no time to wonder on the appearance of several other beings, none of whom he was even slightly interested in meeting, talking to, or even looking at, and no time to simply brush off the possibility that this had all been chance. It all just fell together naturally in his mind, as if it were a simple puzzle.

"If you desire to blame me for this crime, so be it, but be ready to receive complete blame from me in retaliation. I have done nothing wrong."

The small man, in no way magical, was not the least bit startled or intimidated by the angel's show of outward hostility which, no doubt, simply masked the pain of this horrible circumstance. Assassins learn to read emotions, especially pain, but angels react differently than humans. It was entirely possible that this was simply a show of pleasure, and that the angel wished that he had in fact committed the act. Oreit doubted that assessment.

"If it is a human that committed this atrocity on other humans, why do you care? You grieve over a human corpse, angel, but you accuse those who are kin to that corpse in the same breath. Save me your grief and give me my answer. What happened here."

The girl looked at him. Her wings subdued as they became smaller and she looked at the angel. She walked up to him, her draconic shield and draconic sword in her hands. "I asked you a question, yet you hesitate to answer?" She asked. The girl took note of the other person standing there, who'd also asked the same question.

She looked around and noted their surroundings. "I don't know why, but I feel so much pain from this..." She turned to look at the angel again. "Tell me, what happened here? If you can't, than do you know who did this?" The girl asked. She continued holding her sword and shield, she didn't want to place them away just yet.