The War of the Triforce: A New War

One thousand years have passed since the fateful day when two tyrants were vanquished. An era of peace and prosperity flourished throughout the land, now that the threat of the Triforce was lifted. Cities were rebuilt, commerce reinitiated, and life returned to the stricken land of Hyrule. The stories of the great warriors, Thaddeaus, Saito, Toorima, Leo, Supul, and the others have evolved into legends of their own. To the chagrin of some, and the merriment of others, the age of adventures seemed long past.

Then Hyrule was visited on by an old acquantance, a most unwelcome companion. War.

The land of Kaltimor brought war on the people of Hyrule, seeking with greedy hands to take the Triforce for themselves. The standing Hylian army was small, poorly trained, and almost entirely unprepared for war, as a millenium of peace had left little need for soldiers. Desperate for help, the royal family turned to the dark wizard Arkad, against their better judgement. The wizard was known for his experiments involving people, and was hated by all, but the royal family turned to him in their hour of need, seeking his help in creating better soldiers to fight the war.

With a silent bow and a nod of his head, the wizard set about his task. However, not long afterwards, a series of disappearances among the homeless and orphans turned the eyes and attention of all to Arkad. He was exiled to lands far away, and the people of Hyrule decided to finish the war on their own steam. Heroes arose from the common soldiers, distinguishing themselves through their valor and skill. In time, the armies of Kaltimor were defeated, sent running back beyond their borders with their tails between their legs.

Time passed, and the reasons for the war were forgotten. Peace returned, and life continued normally. However, there were still envious eyes set upon the Triforce, people willing to go to any length to get what they desired. Before long, hostilities resumed. However, the Kaltimorian armies were now nowhere to be seen. Instead, they were replaced by horrors the likes of which had never been seen in Hyrule.

Men and women, magically fused with beasts, who fought as though possessed by terrible evil spirits. Small groups of them could and did lay waste to entire divisions of Hylian soldiers. The war turned into nothing more than a mad slaughter.

Kaltimor's army swept over the land, and the royal family was forced into hiding. Special divisions of soldiers, called Temple Paladins, had been stationed at a number of temples to the goddesses long before the war had started, but had been forbidden to leave their lands to help. As the occupational armies encroached on the lands governed by the temples, rather than fight them, the Kaltimorians decided they were best left alone, officially declaring them the local guards and defenders of their lands.

Years passed, those who sought the Triforce for their own had died in battle, the rulers of Kaltimor set a puppet government in place of the royal family. The new government was a terrible oppressive force where its arms could reach, and pockets of resistance formed, seeking a hero who, with the Blade of Evil's Bane in hand, would lead them to crush their enemy.

The shadows have fallen once more on the fair land of Hyrule. Here, the tale of the Hylian people begins again. They are determined to set things right again, or die trying.

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OOC: Just like Fox did last time, I want this to be a multi-writer interactive story. It is not vital that you read the first story, as most characters who existed in that story (save for Yamiji and Takusen) are long since deceased. There will be limited references back to the first story, though I will do my best to keep those at a minimum. As before, everyone is to make their own character, be they hero or villain, as long as its fair. Characters may or may not have special abilities, at the writer's discretion. I'm open to new ideas, as long as they don't destroy the flow of the story.

For example, creating a monster/villain/boss enemy is good, even better with backstory and description. Creating a second wish-granting device and saying it was made, by the goddesses, as a freak accident, is not.

Elements from past LoZ adventures are most welcome (Goron Bracelet, Bomb Flowers, The Ocarina of Time, Roc's Cape, etc). Now then, on to character introductions.

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Name: Kadmon
Age: Appears to be early-to-mid twenties
Place of Birth: Unknown
Gender: Male
Race: Hylian (Or Hyrulian, depending on which translation you follow, I've always preferred Hylian myself)
Class: Paladin/Amnesiac

Armor: Varies - Anywhere from none to heavy chainmail, wears a black mantle over everything

Weapons: A white longsword called Nakitama , between seven and eleven other longswords

Ability: Blast Sword - Kadmon swings his sword very quickly with the full force of his arm, creating a sonic boom. As you can probably imagine, any normal sword would bend, crack, then shatter under that much force, hence why he carries so many swords.

Appearance: Roughly 5'6, lean musculature, white hair with a red streak over his right eye, silver-blue eyes, numerous scars criss-crossing his arms and upper-body.

History: As far as Kadmon can remember, his life began when he awoke in a bed in Cape Azure, a fishing city east of New Kakarikko, close to five years ago. He has absolutely no memory of his past before that day, and the only hints he has to who he really is come in the form of the red tunic he was wearing over a suit of chainmail and the white sword he washed ashore carrying. His Blast Sword technique seems to be a souvenir from a forgotten past.

After he recovered from his physical injuries, he was placed in the care of the Temple of the Goddesses, where they put good use to his innate sword skills and trained him to be a Paladin of the Temple. He often accompanies Lyra on her hunting trips. Lyra sometimes comes with him when he performs excorcisms, as such a spiritually draining endeavor will leave him defenseless against demons or ghosts released during the procedure.

Since meeting her not long after he awoke, Lyra has since broken both of his arms, one of his legs, several of his ribs, and on one occasion nearly shattered his skull. Considering known information about Lyra, it is clear the Kadmon either isn't afraid to try to ask her out, or simply never learns his lessons. If nothing else, he is determined.


Name: Lyra Yumi
Age: 22
Place of Birth: Cape Azure
Gender: Female
Race: Hylian
Class: Archer

Armor: Hardened leather. Anything more would limit her mobility. Generally, she wears a long tunic over her armor.

Weapons: Longbow, Hand-blades (extends from the knuckles on her gloves, spring-loaded)

Ability: Arrow Strafe - Lyra fires many arrows rapidly, one after the other, with unerring accuracy

Appearance: 5'5, Light brown hair, green eyes, sleek, well-formed

History: She's lived in the same fishing village for her entire life, as did her ancestors. One of her ancestors was the same girl who took care of Garlanus Aleste during his brief stay in the village. She is the one who found Kadmon unconscious on the beaches near the village. With some degree of difficulty, she managed to drag him, armor, weapons, and all, to the village doctor. Her skill with a bow comes from years of hunting Moblins that would attack the village on occasion. The blades were a gift from her great-grandfather, a man of considerable skill with almost any manner of bladed weaponry.

Where most women her age would be marrying off and living peaceful lives, she is far more content to hide in the trees and shoot Moblins that wander too close to the town. The truth is, most of the men in the village are somewhat frightened of her, and most value their innards far more than asking her on a date, let alone proposing. She and Kadmon work together defending against Moblins as the advance guards for Cape Azure. Occasionally, she even accompanies him on excorcisms.

Though she may not admit it, she does find the attention Kadmon gives her somewhat flattering. The fact that he continued to give her such attention even after she broke so many of his bones continues to amaze almost everyone in Cape Azure, Lyra included.

-------------

Alron looked left and right. Twelve of his men were with him. Even though he was a moblin, Alron was incredibly superstitious. There had been one more with them, making their number twice as lucky as simply bringing small group of seven. Then that fool Kalalet walked too close to a feeding wolfos. By the time they'd managed to fight off the monster, there wasn't even enough left of their comrade to bury in a breadbox.

It had been an unlucky day. They were left with an unlucky number. Unfortunately for Alron, his unlucky day was about to get a lot unluckier.

A pair of arrows blazed through the air, sticking in the throats of two of his men and pinning them to trees on either side of him. He could see from the angle of the shafts that they had been fired from above, but before he could shout a warning to his men behind him, another arrow found its way into his forehead. He groped at it momentarily, trying to wrench it loose, before falling to the ground in a heap.

A wall of air crashed into five of the remaining moblins, launching them into the air as a man in black wielding a pair of swords charged through some nearby bushes. Both blades shot through the air, quickly cutting down the airborne moblins. The remaining five turned to run, but not one of them made it more then half a dozen paces before either taking an arrow in the spine or being cloven in half.

Silently, a brown-haired woman dropped from her perch in the large oak tree. On her back sat a bow and a quiver with a few arrows left in it, and at her sides hung two more quivers still filled with to capacity.

"There have been a lot of these buggers lately," The man side, wiping the his swords clean on the clothing of the fallen moblins, "Think they're planning something?"

The woman passed quietly among the fallen monsters, "I doubt it. They've probably run out of game to hunt where ever they normally go about it," She pulled some arrows from the corpses, "Although, I'll admit this is strange behavior for moblins. I would ask what you thought, Kadmon, but somehow I think you're just going to say they're planning a full-scale assault on Cape Azure."

Kadmon's finger rose and his mouth opened, but he quickly shut his mouth and withdrew his hand. She was right, afterall. "Well, if they aren't planning that, Lyra, what do you think this many were doing here with all these weapons?"

"Scouting, hunting, I don't know," Lyra grumbled. And it was true, she didn't know, "Maybe they were... Being cautious, in case they ran into some larger predator."

"Or someone like one of us."

Lyra shook her head, half-smiling, "Or someone like one of us," she agreed, "Come on, lets head back. You know as well as I do that these woods are particularly dangerous after dark."

Kadmon just nodded and followed. Five years was a long time to live without knowing who you were. Though he hated to admit it, Kadmon knew that on the field of battle, he almost felt like he could remember who he was, like the battlefield had been what had defined him.

And perhaps it had. His upper body was a solid indicator of that, scars from battles he couldn't recall covering almost every inch of him. Many of them were from swords, spears, and other such weapons. However, there were also a good number of ragged marks, where the claws of animals and monsters had left their marks.

"Hurry it up a bit, Kaddy!" Lyra yelled back, bringing the black-clad warrior back from his daze. He hadn't even noticed that he'd come to a stop leaning on a tree. "If you don't get moving soon, there won't be any food left for you at dinner, and I'm not going to cook for you this time!"

With an all new incentive, the paladin picked up his pace. She spoke the truth, if he didn't hurry, the other paladins would eat all the food before he got there. That wasn't an uncommon event, as these men, young and old, had appetites larger than the temple itself. Since Lyra had already refused to cook for him if he arrived late, he knew it was either get there and get some food, or go hungry. Kadmon knew his strengths. Cooking wasn't one of them.

-------

Particularly hairy men patrolled outside the walls of the mighty Hyrule Castle. Atop these fine stone structures, hawk-eyed men sat with bows, prepared to stop any potential threat to those inside.

And an important group they were. A wizard and several councilmen. There were also representatives from various villages, pleading that taxes be lowered, or that they be allowed time to rest. The councilors weren't exactly an understanding bunch, but they got the job done. With that wizard with them, they were a little more inspired to be an 'efficient' governing body. They would turn away all the representatives as quickly as they could, while still feeding them line after line about how their sacrifices helped ensure the greater good.

In all honesty, none of the councilormen or the guards really knew why the wizard had chosen to visit now. They just knew it was best not to get in the Dark Wizard's way. When Arkad wanted something, he got it.

OOC: Well, this is where people joining... join in, I guess :p Once again, all writers are free to join, and having read/written in the previous story isn't a requirement to join this one.

Name: Ezan Fortai
Age: 23
Place of Birth: Fanelia
Gender: Male
Race: Hylian
Class: Knight

Armor/Clothes: Unlike other Knights of Fanelia, he doesn’t wear the normal armor that one would wear in such a position, finding it too heavy and making him too immobile. Instead, he wears chainmail made by the Gorons of Death Mountain, which he wears under a black shirt. He also has a magic leather gauntlet on his left hand, with plates of nanchada (rare, strong, black steel) on it, and wears a dark blue cloak. Keeps a chain around his neck with the crest of Fanelia on it.

Weapons: Oblivion, a black handled, black and silver blade sword (Something like the first sword on this webpage: http://bladezilla.com/en-us/dept_41.html )

Ability: Flare Streak – The power of his gauntlet charges in his hand, and he unleashes a wave of fire at his target.

Appearance: About 5’9, athletic build, long dark brown hair, green eyes.
_______________________________


The sword called Oblivion dripped with the fresh, green blood of moblins that its owner had recently skewered from the back of his black steed. It had been no ordinary soldier that had that had wielded the sword so skillfully.
He was Ezan Fortai, ‘The Black Hand’, a name people throughout Hyrule called him because of the gauntlet of nanchada worn on his left hand. He was a great Knight of the city of Fanelia, an honor given to him at the age of eighteen for showing incredible talent at a very young age. And he proved his worth many times on the battlefield, defending Fanelia from numerous attacks, as well as training new troops.
He had lead his men into battle on the fields outside of Fanelia against a group of moblins, for the third time that month.

Ezan slid down from the horse and wiped the blood from his sword in the grass, then slid it into the black and blue sheath at his side.
He looked up at his men who were also on horse back and spoke, “There has been a great disturbance around Fanelia lately, what with all these Moblins popping up. I want all of you to patrol around the city until other arrangements are made.”
He pulled himself onto the back of his horse. “I will speak to the governor about the matter.”
The soldiers nodded and rode off, two halves going to either side.


The gates of Fanelia opened as soon as Ezan approached the gates and he raced through the cobble stone streets, coming to Governor Nasuma’s house. The guards pulled open the large doors for him and he walked into a large marble entrance, then through to a room in the back.
On a chair next to a large table sat Governor Nasuma, a middle-aged, short, grey-haired man. A large map of Hyrule and surrounding areas was laid out on the table, and the Governor and a few other Knights were looking over it.
“Welcome, Sir Ezan,” greeted the Knights, saluting.
Ezan saluted and looked at Nasuma. “Governor, I’m here to inform you about the recent outbreak of moblins around the c-”
“I am well aware of the moblins, Knight,” muttered Nasuma. “However, my attention is on other things right now. I seems Arkad is here in Hyrule.”
“Well, that can’t be good. What is he doing?”
“Last we were contacted... meeting with the Hylian councilors.”
A knight spoke up. “Also, there has been a massing of armies in west.”
“A threat to Fanelia?”
“Perhaps, since Fanelia is the only part of Hyrule not under the new rule. It could be, however, an attack to conquer another land.”
“Where though? Over here...” –Ezan pointed to the western edge of the map- “...there’s naught but desert. No one has ever attempted to cross it. And here...” –he pointed over to the eastern woodlands- “...the forest is too vast for any army to travel through. The only other place I could think of is for them to travel to the coast and attack the southern islands...”
“Yes, yes. We’ve considered all of this,” said Nasuma. “And I feel that the best course of action would be to prepare our soldiers for battle.”
“Very well, M’lord,” said Ezan.

Hunger. It can be a very humbling thing. Even the mighty fall when food is scarce. And so it was with Kadmon. Having taken too long getting back to the temple, he found that the others had long since eaten everything set out for them. Somewhat sadly, the paladin returned to his chambers.

The door opened with the same unbearable squeak that the others always claimed didn't bother them. Kadmon knew better. Every time his door opened or closed, the entire temple had their hands over their ears. That, however, was unimportant. What was important was that the door had opened without the lock being undone. Slowly, Kadmon drew his white sword, the one which, no matter how many battles it had seen, always seemed to come out in much the same condition it had entered in.

The black-garbed warrior crept quietly through his room. While not a large room, it was remarkably spacious. Rather, it would've been spacious were it not for the fact that Kadmon lived in conditions only slightly better than a moblin commune. In spite of the incredible disarray of the chamber, Kadmon moved through it with fluid grace afforded only to true masters of the blade, and those who had had to traverse the sty that his personal living space had been for years on end.

Steel sang through the air, only to meet something as hard as itself - another blade. The swords slashed through the air, meeting eachother in what appeared to be a well choreographed dance. After several minutes of this deadly dance, Kadmon's opponent's sword struck the stone wall, creating a spark that lit a candle that was sitting right next to it. A tall, heavily muscled man stood holding his blade at his side.

Kadmon sheathed his sword, shaking his head, "Eridani, do you have to do this every time I come back late?"

Eridani returned his sword to its scabbard, "I don't HAVE to," He admitted, "However, just because I don't have to doesn't mean that I won't. You don't HAVE to go out with Lyra every day," The tall man walked to the door, "She can take care of herself, afterall. Besides, that girl gives me the creeps. She's got a stare that could freeze a river."

"I... errr..." Kadmon stammered, trying to keep his face from turning red, "I help her because she asks me to," He lied, hoping it was smooth enough to slip past Eridani in his distracted state.

"Right, she 'asks you to'," The tall man put a large hand on the top of the door frame, "Anyway, I'm just making sure you stay sharp. I wouldn't want my only competition in the Silver Swords Tourney to dull on me, now would I?"

The shorter paladin grinned at this. The Silver Swords Tourney was an annual competition held by the Temple Paladins. Kadmon and Eridani were always pitted against eachother in the final match. These duels never lasted less than half an hour, sometimes even going on for the better part of three hours, and rarely ending with a certain winner. For the first year, Eridani had beaten Kadmon in the final match. The past four years, however, had been duels of epic proportions, and had ended with the leaner of the two on top.

"I'm not you're only competition," Kadmon said, looking at the trophies from these battles sitting on their sides, upside down, and one containing a handful of writing implements and a salad fork, "I'm just the only one there who wins anymore."

Eridani smiled, showing all of his teeth, a few of which were newer than their surrounding companions, having been regenerated by magic after one of the duels, "You just keep talking like that. I'll win this year, I can promise you that."

"Whatever, bud. Now, if you would be so kind..." Kadmon took hold of his door, "Please get out before you become too injured to take part." Eridani complied, knowing that from Kadmon, that wasn't an idle threat. Most people would look ridiculous carrying the amount of swords he wore, but Kadmon held them with a certain air that made those around know that he wasn't afraid to use them.

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Lyra walked into her small house, lighting the candles in the doorway as she entered. A sound came from the kitchen. Without even turning to it, she said, "Hello, Gramps. I didn't expect to see you back here any time so soon."

"And what would make you say something like that?" A voice called back, "I'm your great-grandfather, afterall. I have a right to come and see you every once in a while!"

"The last time I saw you was a little over six years ago," She hung her bow next to the fireplace, placing the quivers of arrows on the ground under it, "And at that time, you said you probably wouldn't be coming back." Quietly, Lyra walked over to her thinking chair and plopped down in it. 'Great,' She thought to herself, 'Gramps is back after doing the Goddesses only know what, and expects to be just welcomed back in....'

She heard a grunt of anger from the kitchen, "For your information, I left to go fight in the war. However, when that was lost, I picked up my treasure hunting where I'd left it." A man with long, grey hair and a cropped grey beard walked into the room, holding a half-eaten piece of fruit, "And I didn't expect you to just let me back in. I only came back to warn you of danger on its way. That friend of yours knows it, he can feel it in his bones."

Lyra turned to the old man in the doorway. He stood a few inches taller than her and Kadmon, and he looked old, but he could move and fight with the best of them, "What do you mean he can feel it in his bones? What kind of danger?"

"He can sense it. He doesn't know how or why, but he can," The old man took one more bite of the fruit before tossing the core into a waste basket, "And there are several kinds of danger. Unfortunately, I don't have time to explain. Just remember this - Beware the black-bladed sword." With that, he walked through the doorway, his old red cloak billowing behind him as he left.

'Beware the black-bladed sword...' Lyra changed her posture, resting her head in her hand. A black-bladed sword. Perhaps a weapon forged to counter Kadmon's white-bladed sword?

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Arkad paced back and forth in his lab. These councilors just didn't understand how urgent it was to amass the army. The minister of the council, the puppet head set there by Kaltimor, was the only one who truly knew why the army needed to be brought together. Even with his backing, it would take time to get all the others to agree.

With a silent curse, the dark wizard moved to the table where his book sat. He opened it to the page he'd left off and began writing in it, reading through previous notes, and using what he had there to decipher what the ancient text had said.

There was a knock on the door. With a louder curse, Arkad slammed his book onto the table. With a thought and a gesture, the door, which really only looked like a door in the hallway and was actually a stone wall, melted into the walls around it. A young man entered the room and quickly kneeled down on one knee before the wizard.

"Rise, child," Arkad said firmly, bidding the man before him to stand, "What news do you bring?"

The young man pulled a small scroll from one of the folds in his tunic, "Milord, word from the Lord Emperor." Arkad took the scroll, reading its contents.

"That old fool..." Arkad growled, crumbling the paper in his hands, then setting it ablaze with his mind, "I told him to have all orders for me sent to my lab on the border. I don't have the tools to fill an order for soldiers here." With a flick of his wrists, a pen and some parchment appeared on the table before him, "Take down this message, then have a rider sent back to the capital." Arkad dictated his message, then sent the message bearer on his way.

What was the point of making beast soldiers for a fool like the Lord Emperor? All he would do is use them for entertainment in the arenas, when they should be out on the fields. The wizard made a mental note that he had would have to kill the Lord Emperor when all was said and done.

~~~~~~~

OOC: I don't expect all posts to be this long - I just haven't written much in a while and had a lot of inspiration to work off.

Name: Noemix
Age: 18
Place of Birth: Mazaneth
Gender: Male
Race: Hylian in origin
Class: Thief/Rogue/Assassin

Armor: Improved/hardened leather under a brown heavy cloak, brown boots, and thin black gauntlets on hands.

Weapons: Being a thief, Noemix needs to be prepared for all occasions and have weapons that are quick and hard to see, as stealth is a main issue in most of his missions. Hence, he’s an expert with knives and daggers. In each boot he hides a stiletto (A long and thin bladed knife. It can pierce the enemy's armor with great effect), on his left leg at about mid-thigh height he hides a dirk (An ancient knife usually used by highlanders), 2 main gauches (originally created as a parrying dagger) reside at his sides, and as to be symmetrical with the dirk at the same height of the thigh on his right leg is situated a Damascus (A very deadly knife made of an extremely rare and special metal that cuts straight to the heart of enemy). Along with those, as quick weapons always ready to be used he may, depending on the occasion, have katars on each arm (the blades on the guy’s arms are katars). Of course though, when stealth and quick attacks fail, and he must engage lengthy battles he turns to some of his more strength-based weapons. On his waist, along with the main gauches, he carries a saber and a scimitar. The first for quicker and faster damage, much like a dagger but still quite different, and the latter for intricate sword fights. Then, when in massive battles where many foes are present and he must try to inflict the rawest damage, he un-sheathes the two-handed great sword that’s strapped on his back. However, even in most battles he’ll probably be wielding his katars as they are both quick and inflict more damage than most single-handed swords do.
Even though he doesn't carry around a bow he is well skilled using one, even though certainly not as well as most archers.

Abilities:

Ambidexterity (always in use)- Can use both hands with equal skill and wield two weapons, striking with them simultaneously if desired.

Serpent Coil- Multiple very quick strikes with either daggers or katars that poison the enemy.

Blood Lust- Occurs very rarely and only in cases of extreme anger or pain. Executed with any weapon. Noemix looses control of his body and is instead possessed by the beast entity that is suppressed in his body. He becomes much quicker, much more tolerant to fatigue and pain, and much more violent. He also becomes somewhat stronger, not much stronger though. During the duration of this ability, Noemix isn’t able to control his actions and he’ll try to kill anybody in his field of vision, regardless if it’s a friend or a foe.

Other Skills: Setting, removing, and constructing traps, lock picking, identifying and applying poisons and their vaccines, pick pocketing, scrounging, and sleight of hand.

Appearance: About 5'10", messy spiked light reddish-brow hair; brown eyes with green shards in the middle, bottom 3/4ths of right arm are that of a panther (hence covered in short dark blue fur), however, opposable thumb remains. Not too muscular as he is a thief and needs to be mostly agile.

History: Noemix was born in Mazaneth, a small village on the borders of Hyrule and Kaltimor. Very soon after his birth the village was destroyed because of the raging war between the two nations. There were few survivors, young Noemix being one of them. Unluckily they had no time to rejoice their survival, as they were rapidly taken by Arkad to be experimented on.
A fusion with a panther was attempted on Noemix, but do to his early age it was a failure He remained the exactly the same, apart for his right arm which was now not only stronger, but covered in short dark blue fur and armed with a retractable claw on each finger.
After that, deemed useless, as his human nature remained, Arkad left him to die in the Harsia desert. Luckily, a member of the "Red Lions" a thief and rogue guild from the nearby city of Roviza (also known as the city of the desert as it’s actually located in the Harsia desert, even though not too distant from grassland) was passing by while looking for merchants to ambush saw Noemix. First thinking that the fur and flesh he saw wrapped in the small blanket was the hide of some animal he took it and put it in his sack. As he neared Roviza and felt that whatever he had stowed away in his sack was moving, he just presumed it wasn’t a hide but the animal itself, which he’d dispense of later. Only once he had reached the guild and was unpacking in his room did he find out it was a young boy.
Hence Noemix was raised in Roviza as a member of the “Red Lions”. At first just being a pickpocket on the sandy streets and as the years passed moving on to being an assassin for hire. Noemix always knew that what he did was wrong, but in Roviza, this was his only way of survival. Roviza was and still is nothing but a city of markets, merchants, and most importantly: thieves.

It's promising, Lost Shade; I haven't read much co-op fiction, so I'm interested to see the stories weaving themselves in and out of each other. Heck, I'd throw my hat in just to try it if I weren't working on my own story right now.

You have an ear for dialogue, which is good, and I really like the Kato-Clouseau thing between Kadmon and Eridani. Arkad has the potential to be an interesting character - be careful to keep him interesting; make sure you explain his motives, feelings and thoughts just as much as you would one of your heroes. A strong, well-drawn villian can be the most important part of a story like this.

Oh, and watch your 'ing'-ing; it's not a big problem (and scanning up to look for my example I couldn't find it, so that's a good sign), but keeping an eye for active voice (Kad walked, talked, shocked, not Kad was walking and talking and shocking), will keep your writing tight.

Overall, good work. I look forward to reading more.

Name: Seran
Age: 19
Place of Birth: Dale
Gender: Male
Race: Hylian
Class: Adventurer

Armor: Naught but a tunic similar to that of Anakin Skywalker's in Star Wars Episode I. Boots look much like Anakin's as well.

Weapons: His trusty dagger, nine inches in length

Ability: Windbreak - powerful gusts of wind strike his opponent; powerful enough to draw blood

Appearance: Rather short, sandy brown hair, childlike face

History: Orphaned as a small child, Seran was raised by the Deku tribes in the Lost Woods. He left them as a young man and has ventured the open plains ever since, looking for someone to teach him the way of the warrior. His travels have taken him all across Hyrule, and he has seen much. Too much at times. Far too much...

- - -

Drums. Getting closer by the minute. He stirred, leaning forward on his perch to scan the horizon for the source of the sound. There it was, in the distance, an army of Goron warriors, marching off to battle. But who was their enemy?

Being raised by the Dekus deep in the forests of Hyrule, Seran knew nothing of war. The only fighting he'd ever encountered was against the Wolfos who so often attacked the Deku Villages. But those Wolfos were savage creatures who cared little about the innocent lives they were taking.

The leader of the Wolfos, Kaurmon, was the most ruthless of them all, and it was he who had killed Seran's parents. Seran knew it from the moment the name reached his ears. And so he'd vowed to become the legendary Olim, the one who will deliver the Deku peoples from the savage attacks of the vile Wolfos.

He had searched far and wide for someone to teach him the art of swordsmanship, seeing how he was armed with only a dagger. And his travels had brought him to the foot of Death Mountain, where he now rested in the top of a tree.

Who could the Gorons be marching against? They hadn't seen war in so many years...

The drumbeats got so loud that Seran fell out of his tree, nearly startling a patch of Bomb Flowers. He'd have to pick his resting places more carefully in the future. When the Goron army had passed, he began to trail them, ever curious as to what they meant to be fighting.

Noemix sat lazily against the trunk of a tree, enjoying the shade and defying the noon sun, which seemed to want to make everybody feel the scorching heat of its rays. Reaching into the brown sac at his side, Noemix took out a slice of pork. Putting it to his mouth he tore a part of it, chewing it and then swallowing it down. He did so with the rest of the slice and then took out a metal flask. Unscrewing the top he placed the cool metal on his lips and poured the dark bluish liquid down his throat. After a few sips he put the lid back on the flask and put it away. The cold bombflower tea had been very refreshing.
Having had his small snack he rose to his feet and looked towards Fanelia’s gate, which was just two thousand feet or so diagonally from his tree. Then he looked away from Fanelia’s walls, to the clear and wide grass path that lead to the city. Still nothing. The army hadn’t crossed the distant hills yet.
Noemix had first seen the army of black armored soldiers when he was voyaging not too far from Roviza, just on the borders between the flat grasslands that led to Fanelia and the desert. Knowing that wherever the army was headed they’d lead to a mass of corpses and even possibly a demolished city or village. In the first case it could lead to some good pillaging and in the latter, well, raiding was always profitable. After having the followed the army for a while he was able to pin point their destination as Fanelia, and had quickly overtaken them as they rested and discussed battle plans. He had already been waiting outside the gates for a few hours and there was still no sign of the army.
Turning to the tree he put his hand on its lowest branches and pulled himself up. His legs quickly followed and soon he was sitting among the leaves and branches, completely unseen from outside, yet with complete vision of the outside. Yawning he stretched out his arms as he sat comfortably in the tree, all he had to do now was wait.

Kadmon woke a little before dawn. The nightmares had haunted his sleep again, and kept him from getting any refreshing sleep. Slowly, he walked over to his door. He stopped short of actually opening it, though. Just because he'd woken early didn't mean the entire temple had to. With skill and precision, the paladin lifted the pins from the door hinges. In spite of its size and weight, Kadmon easily pulled the oak barrier from its previous position and laid it against the wall.

"Up early again, I see?" Came an old and scratchy voice, "I'll admit it is polite of you not to wake the others, but I have to ask a favor of you Kadmon."

He looked out the doorway, "Errr.. What would that favor be, Abbot?"

The abbot straightened his morning robes out a bit, "Please remember to put the door back where you found it. No matter how easy you make it look, that wooden monstrosity is far too heavy for most of us to put back on our own."

"Of course, Abbot," Kadmon walked over to his closet and pulled out his black mantle, "I'm sorry for my forgetfulness."

"One more thing, if you would be so kind."

As he threw the mantle over his shoulders, the young paladin looked to his elder with inquisitive eyes.

The old abbot cleared his throat, "Would you please clean your room one of these days? I know that you know where everything is by the piles of..."

"I'll do it, one of these days," Kadmon responded, a sarcastic grin crossing his face, "Though I must admit, you're starting to sound like an overly-concerned parent."

"It's just that we've never had a plague in this temple," The old man's brown eyes locked on Kadmon's, "And I would hate to sully that record because one of our paladins simply didn't clean his room."

Kadmon didn't say another word, but instead simply walked off to the dining hall. It was early, but there was almost always kitchen staff in there preparing a meal for the temple's inhabitants. He was lucky to have risen so early. It would be another hour of so before the rest of the temple arrived to clear out any of the prepared food. In spite of this fact, Kadmon himself only grabbed a little food, just enough to make sure he'd not be hungry before lunch.

He ate in silence, contemplating what his dreams could've meant.

--------------

With the dawn came a new set of frustrations. Arkad had little time with which to decipher more of his book. As far as he could tell, this was an ancient history of some sort, though without suitable time to read it, it was impossible to really gather what the different bits of symbolism meant. Translated literally, they were little more than gibberish, words that when put together, were utterly meaningless.

The book, however important it was, had to be placed on hold. The councilors had met again the night before, and, with a little convincing, agreed to gather the armies. While this was good news for the wizard, it also meant that he would have to travel back to his lab at the border to make more soldiers. The standard Kaltimorian soldiers would be cut down within a short time, and there would be cries from the councilors for more beastmen to replace them.

It was of utmost importance that the beastmen went to the front, and that the Lord Emperor knew nothing of them. The emperor wasn't a wise man by any stretch, much closer to a feeble-minded dolt, as far as Arkad was concerned. It had taken little convincing to get him to take another go at the Hylians. He had no mind for tactics, but simply prefered to watch the beastmen tear eachother apart in the arenas.

"The bloody fool..." Arkad grumbled to himself as he hurried down the stone hallways toward the courtyard. With a wave of his arm, the dark wizard summoned his wyvern. He mounted quickly and was off into the growing daylight. If he was to make more soldiers, he would have to take a trip on the town.

--------------

Lyra sat on her roof, still thinking of what her great-grandfather had said the night before. "Several kinds of danger..." She said to no one in particular, "What could he have meant by that?"

"He might've been referring to those blasted moblins," Said a familiar voice from down by the door, "Whomever he might've been, at least. Should I be jealous?"

"Kaddy, I don't think you have any reason to be jealous over me."

"Low blow, Lyra. Why not just break a couple of my bones? I'm pretty sure that would hurt less."

Lyra jumped down from the roof, accepting her bow and arrows as the paladin in black handed them to her, "You know we're just friends. Besides, I was just talking about my great-grandfather. He visited last night, supposedly just to tell me there was danger coming."

Kadmon's shoulders drooped a bit. 'Just friends,' she'd said. "I didn't know you had any living relatives." Before he'd realized what he'd said, he already regretted it, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up your family."

"It's alright, Kad," She walked a few steps toward the woods, "I won't hold that one against you because you're an idiot, and I've come to accept that. I don't think you would know Gramps anyway. He left town a year or so before you washed up."

The paladin remained silent for a few moments before a question came to mind. "Did he say anything specific? Like any sort of easily identifiable threat?"

Lyra stopped and thought for a bit, "Yeah, he said something about a black-bladed sword. Its a little vague, but I really don't pay most things that Gramps says any mind anyway." She turned to face Kadmon. A thought had occured. "Kaddy, would you let me see Nakitama? I need to know something."

"Lyra, Nakitama has a white blade," Kadmon stated, shaking his head a bit, "I don't see how my sword would have anything to do with this."

"As a favor to a friend, would you please let me see the sword?" Lyra appeared a little perturbed by Kadmon's unwillingness to let her see it.

With a degree of apprehension, Kadmon drew the sword, its white steel glistening in the morning light, "Satisfied?" The nightmare played over in his head. According to it, if he handed her the sword, she would try to kill him with it.

"I wouldn't mind getting a closer look at it, if you don't mind."

Kadmon froze. His mind screamed at him to put the sword away, but he couldn't think clearly enough to do it. The only thing that ran through his head was the hope that his dream had been wrong.

Seran found himself sprawled on the ground as a Goron fell on top of him. He felt the weight of ten men crushing him, but the Goron quickly rose back to his feet, apologizing quickly before rolling back to rejoin the battle. Seran chuckled; the Goron hadn't even questioned his presence on the battlefield in the first place. He, himself, would find it odd to see someone wandering the field of war when they didn't belong.

No matter. The Gorons were about to lose this battle, and he was right in their only path of retreat. He watched as the Kaltimorians, each in the form of Dodongos, launched their furious barrage of fireballs, sending Gorons flying every which way.

"RETREAT!" he heard a Goron cry, and they whirled around to roll themselves away from the fighting. Seran, who was directly in their path with not enough time to run, leapt atop the nearest Goron, and hopped from one to another until they had all passed.

The Kaltimorians had apparently watched him dodge the oncoming Gorons, because they had focused their attentions on him and were about to blast him with fire. But some quick thinking and a bit of magic saved him. He managed to conjure a wall of wind in front of himself to fizzle out their fire blasts.

But there were too many, and he couldn't possibly stop all their assaults. "Great, just great," he muttered, ducking to the ground to dodge a pair of fireballs. The Dodongo horde circled around him, preparing to unleash one final barrage. There was no escaping it; he was doomed.

Out of nowhere, a blue bubble of energy surrounded him, and the fire blasts collided harmlessly with the force field, leaving Seran unscathed. "What the..." he exclaimed. "Did I do that?"

"HIYA!" came a voice from behind him. He whirled around to see a man in a green tunic wielding a Hylian shield and a familiar-looking blade leap to engage the Kaltimorians. He leapt behind the beasts and immediately unleashed a massive slash of magical energy with his sword. Seran recognized it from ancient tribal drawings back in the forest. The Spin Slash technique.

The Kaltimorians, defeated, attempted to retreat into their original bodies, but because of the nature of their transformation, they remained somewhere in between Dodongo and human form. They kind of reminded Seran of the Dinolfos he'd encountered roaming the plains lately, only much uglier.

They seemed to be having enough trouble just standing, much less running away. But some unseen ally managed to help them there. In the next instant, the enemy vanished into the morning air.

"He's good..." Seran found himself mumbling in awe at what he'd just seen. That warrior had been incredible. "Could he be..."

But when he turned back, the swordsman in green was gone.

HEY! Minf if one more joins? Wolfoss Terrence was wondering if I could join, so, I guess I am. Sorry I came in a little late, I haven't been on line much lately...

NAME: Indus Halhalla
RACE: Guardian
GENDER: Male
EYE COLOR: Purple
HAIR COLOR: GOLDEN(Dragon Ball Z Type Color)
HEIGHT: 6'4"
WEIGHT: 123.5 lbs.
ARMOR: Etherial Chain Mail, forged at the Temple of Time by Rauru, the Sage of Light. The armor glows when foes are near.
WEAPON: Double Axe and Ash Bow.
APPEARANCE: Indus is very lean and muscular. His muscles bulge under his glowing Chain Mail. His purple eyes seem to pierce into your heart, and he seems to stare right through you. It feels like he is reading your mind like a book. His hair is ragged and messy, but well conditioned and clean.
ABILITIES: When angry or in great danger, his back explodes in a flash of light and huge beating angelic wings appear, allowing him to fly and granting him superior speed and agility. This rarely happens. He also has the gift of foresight, but cannot control it like a seer can. Indus also has the power of the light arrow. This allows him to easily vanquish foes. He can preform a hurricane spin attack with his axe.

Okay, I gotta go. I'll post his story and background later. Happy to be joining you guys. Thanks.

Name: Derth
Age: Undisclosed
Place of Birth: Goron Village
Gender: Male
Race: Goron
Class: Mighty Warrior

Armor: Gorons don't wear armor.

Weapons: Megaton Hammer (fake) - one of many replicas made of the Legendary Hammer. Some are said to be more powerful than the original...

Abilities: Flaming Justice - He becomes engulfed in a protective flame that incinerates anything close by while shielding him from harm. Only triggers when his adrenaline levels are high.
Also, much like Darmani, Derth has the ability to protrude spikes from his skin when he rolls at high enough velocity. These spikes allow for traction and speed. In addition, they kill things.

History: Another ambush delayed Derth's return to Goron Village from the defeat at the edge of Kakariko Village, this time, one by real Dodongos, rather than a Kaltimorian imitation. Derth is a mighty Goron sergeant who has made his troupe of Gorons into a formidible fighting force. However, he was not able to stop the Kaltimorians from seizing the Bomb Flower farms at the foot of Death Mountain, and failed again to retrieve them.

- - - - - - - - - - -

It had been two days since the battle between the Gorons and the Kaltimorians, and Seran had been wandering the foot of Death Mountain, looking for signs of that mysterious warrior clad in green ever since. His fighting techniques had intriguing, and he hoped that, when he found this warrior, that he would be permitted to learn from him.

That is, if he ever found him. He was well aware of the likely possiblity that he might never see that fighter again, but was still determined to try.

Night was beginning to close in, and he knew it wouldn't be safe to proceed much further until morning, so he stopped to make camp. He used some of the everburning flame of the Deku to start a fire, and curled up next to it in an attempt to stay warm during the chilly evening.

He wondered if his brothers back in the Lost Woods were fighting the same war. He doubted that they'd last long in battle against those ruthless Kaltimorians. The Gorons had had enough trouble, and they were much bigger and stronger than the Dekus. But the Deku had strength in numbers, and their burrows to hide in if their enemies came too close.

He tried to push all thoughts of the Kaltimorians coming to burn the Deku Villages out of his head as he drifted off to sleep.

- - -

Derth swung his mighty hammer at the last of his enemies, watching the Dodogno crumble into the dust. Since the Kaltimorians had obviously recruited the Dodongos to their cause, while still maintaining the ability to take the form of one, he found it very difficult to distinguish between genuine dinosaur and Kaltimorian.

Although it didn't much matter, so long as it was dead.

His enemies vanquished, he started back up the hill. There was a fire in the distance. You didn't often see fires burning on Death Mountain, so he decided to check it out. He found a young man with sandy brown hair and a similarly colored tunic sprawled on the ground next to the fire. He looked cold, so Derth softly draped a blanket over him.

Then he sat down by the fire and watched the embers rise up into the sky.

OOC: Somehow, methinks I'd forgotten to mention one thing, and clarify another. I'll start with the clarification, then continue on to the mentioning.

- Arkad's animal fusions aren't something that can be just turned off at the will of the one fused. It leaves a permanent freakish entity in its wake. As such, one fused with a dodongo would be a massive, hulking, have-dinosaur-half-man that breathes fire and can't fit through most doorways.

- The Master sword, as of the last three pages or so of the previous story, has been in place as a seal over the Dark World. Removing it would unseal the portal, allowing Ganon to come back through. Link himself didn't actually show up in the previous story, merely another person of similar destiny.

Now then, with that in place, on to the actual post.

~~~~~~~

Kadmon stood there dumbly as Lyra approached him. He had to get his body to move, and quickly at that. Try as he might, though, some mysterious force held him still. As the archer placed her hand on the blade, something peculiar happened to it.

Spots of black, where her fingers had touched, appeared. She withdrew her hand as quickly as she'd laid her hand on it, but the damage was already done. A pair of onyx stones lit on the underside of the sword, and a shadow escaped as the blade flushed black. Before either of them could think to react, the shadow collided with Lyra, sending her staggering back a few steps.

"Freedom, at last!" A voice that wasn't Lyra's came past her lips, "You have no idea what its like to be stuck in something like that for a millenia!"

Kadmon regained his composure and took up a one-weapon defensive position. Within moments, the black faded from the sword and it regained its glowing white sheen. "Who are you and what have you done with Lyra?"

The one in Lyra's body looked at the paladin momentarily, "Blast it! I'm in the wrong body! But what could've...." A few moments passed before the possessor started talking again, "Regardless, I am called Akuma. Though I would've preferred to take your body, I must admit this one is definately far more attractive than the last body I was in." With a flick of his new host's wrists, Akuma released a pair of blades that had been hidden in the gloves.

"Let Lyra go, Demon," Kadmon growled, struggling to retain his calm, "Or else I'll be forced to Exorcise you!" He pulled the sword back, extending his left hand, index and middle finger up, toward the demon.

Lyra's head shook back and forth, "I wouldn't suggest that, boy." Akuma took a few steps toward him, "I have dug my claws into this girl's soul. Exorcise me, and she dies too." Kadmon's hand slowly fell to his side, Nakitama dropping to the cobblestones beneathe his feet. "Thats a good boy. Accept death as it shows itself."

The shadow demon slashed relentlessly at the paladin, finally knocking him to the ground in a bloody mess. Akuma moved in to deliver the final blow, but was stopped by two different entities, one very dark, the other quite familiar. The force of the reversal sent him flying backwards.

"Y-YOU!" Akuma screeched, taking several steps back, "Thats impossible! Utterly impossible! It was impossible for you to get out of there, Grimstare!"

A pair of glowing, burning blue orbs centered on Akuma, "Just as impossible as you getting out?" A glowing blue form, that of a man, dressed in a half-cloak and leather armor, stood next to the wounded paladin, "If you hadn't spent all that time railing against your cage, I would still be pleasantly asleep. Now, you blasted fool, I'm going to finish the job I started a thousand years ago!"

Akuma took more steps back, finally backing into a building, "I-if you kill me, this girl dies too!"

"I have no attachment to her, though I'll tell you something," The spirit pulled the white sword his hand with his magic, "With this sword, I can split you from her as effortlessly..." He struck the blade out to his right, cleaving a stone wall like it was warm butter, "As I split that wall. If you value your existance, I might suggest retreating. Leave the girl, though. You'll go much quicker in your shadow form."

The shadow fled from Lyra's body, which collapsed like a rag doll into Garlanus' arms. The spirit carried her to Kadmon, who was only barely pulling himself into a sitting position.

"You've definately earned your nickname, Kadmon the Unkillable," The ghost said, crouching down to the black-garbed paladin, "Sit still though, you have much to hear and I don't have much time to speak." The glowing blue hands of the spirit planted on Kadmon's chest, "I am part of the reason why you have been unable to reacquire your memories, and part of the reason why that demon couldn't possess you," Energy began to flow from Garlanus into the swordsman, "That demon, Akuma, and myself go back a ways. Lets just say I evened the score with him by scaring him off. Were it not for the fact that you showed such caring for this girl, I would've quickly dispatched both of them."

Kadmon sat up more surely now, many of his wounds healing under the ghost's hands, "You would've-"

"I don't have time to moralize with you, child. When I finish healing you, I have a gift, which I will give in exchange for two favors," The light died down as Kadmon and the ghost stood, "I need your answer quickly."

"Ask your favors, ghost. I owe you for what you've done for me."

The ghost of Garlanus smiled, "Good. First, I need access to your memories, however few and splintered they may be." The blue hands moved to Kadmon's head, but were quickly pushed back by an unseen force. "I see, so he doesn't want me looking in there. Very well, I'll give you my gift then." The tip of the ghost's right index finger created a red orb, only slightly larger than a kernel of corn, "This is my magic. I won't be needing it anymore. I want you to take it."

Kadmon closed his eyes and bowed his head. The orb of red light glided toward the paladin, entering his chest a little above his sternum. With the gift of new magic came a sudden jolt of pain, bringing him to his knees and knocking the breath from his lungs. After a few moments, Kadmon stood again, and asked, "And the other favor you wanted?"

"Exorcise me." Garlanus commanded, his orbs glowing more dimly.

Kadmon looked at him, dumbfounded, "E-exorcise you? Why?"

Garlanus looked at the white sword on the ground near Lyra's unconcious form, "If you don't I'll be returned to my prison in the sword. I have been bound to this world longer than ten millenia. I have earned my respite. If you still require more answers, find the demon Yamiji."

Kadmon closed his eyes again, and once more placed his left hand forward, "Thank you for all you've done. I only wish I could've known you longer." His palm glowed, then expelled a light onto the ghost and created a bright flash.

As the light dimmed, a whisp of a voice came across the wind, saying, "Thank you, paladin." Exhausted, Kadmon fell to his knees.

Right. Well that'll just make it more interesting, now won't it?

I haven't yet stated that my green-clad character is Link for a reason - I never actually planned him to be. I do plan for him to hail from the forest, however, though it may come shocking as to what his true intentions are. Hehehe...

I'll be editing my posts promptly - thanks for the heads-up!

Meh, this shoulda been typed up last night, but I forgot to plug the laptop in and the battery went out >.>;

_________________


Ezan pushed open the large wooden door and walked into the entrance to the house. This was the home of his childhood, where he had grown up and trained to be a knight. When he was sixteen he had moved out and built his own house, one near the gate of Fanelia. He had built it there incase there was need to rush to gate to defend the city. Which, really never happened because most armies could be detected coming days before they arrived, since Fanelia was miles away from any town or forest or any other kind of cover.
Ezan walked down the hallway and into a room with many kinds of weapons hung on the wall. Each of the four sides were covered in maces, swords, knifes, and axes of all kinds. This was Ezan’s favorite room. It was here he had held his first sword, here he had first felt a blade cut his skin. This was the training room, and standing in the middle of it, clutching a sword, was a tall middle-age man.

“Hello, Father,” Ezan greeted.
“Ezan, my son. Welcome,” said the old knight, turning to face his son. “Word has reached my ears that Fanelia may be in danger of an attack from the east.”
“It is true. No other news has reached my ears yet, but we’ve sent out scouts.”
“Good, good. Do you, Ezan, think that I am too old now to fight if there should be a battle here?”
“Father, my skills pale in comparison to yours. Of course you can still fight.”
Treton gave his son a look, then walked over to a wall and grabbed a sword. He walked back to the center of the room and got in a stance. Ezan drew Oblivion, accepting his Father’s challenge.

Treton made the first move, leaping forward and slashing horizontally, where Ezan blocked then flipped sideways over the sword and slashed down at Treton. The old knight grabbed the blade of Oblivion by pressing the broad side between his thumb and palm, and then brought his sword down towards Ezan’s hand. It stopped right before it hit, and Ezan could feel that it did touch him.
“I guess you’re right,” Treton said, grinning slightly.
Ezan dropped his sword and jumped over Treton, then threw a punch at his neck, but stopped it right before it hit. “Perhaps. But you forget that I can still fight without a weapon. A missing hand would just make it a bit harder.”
Treton handed Oblivion back to its owner then put the sword he was using back up on the hook.
“M’lord!” came a voice.
Ezan looked over at the door and saw a messenger standing there, looking worried.
“I bring news. An army of Kaltimorians march this way, to the city!”


A day later…


“Any sign?” Ezan asked.
“Yes, they should be here before sunset. Also, we saw someone or something moving around the field, but it seems to have disappeared.”
“Probably just an animal.”
Ezan really wasn’t worried. The Kaltimorian army had few of Arkad’s beast fusions, and Fanelia’s army could cut down the rest easily enough. It didn’t make sense to Ezan; why would Arkad attack again like this? They had attacked a few times in the past, but had been obliterated each time, mostly due to Fanelia’s many strong knights. Had he just not learnt his lesson? Ezan doubted that. Perhaps he had some other plan…

The front wall of Fanelia was lined with archers, and farther back there were ballistae and catapults. Ezan was up on the wall with the archers, while the main army sat on their horses behind the gate. They would take out a good fraction of the enemy with the long range weapons, and then send out the riders to take the rest of them out. Ezan didn’t plan on staying on the wall of course though. As soon as the Kaltimorian army got close enough he planned on running down to his horse and riding out with everyone else.

It was nearly time. The sun was high over the field, beating down on the soldiers below…And there they were. The Kaltimorian army.

"Paladin Kadmon," The arbiter said, looking down at the shorter man from his podium, "You are charged with both a failure to perform your duty and owning and wielding a Demon sword. Do you have anything to say?"

Kadmon looked up from where he stood. He hadn't had time to have his mantle repaired or cleaned of the blood on it. His blood. "In regards to failing to perform my duty, in order to destroy the demon, I would've had to kill an innocent. As to the sword," He paused. It was definately a demon sword, there was no denying that. "I had no idea that it was, in fact, a demon sword. I've had it as long as I can remember, and I've never been able to sense a demonic presence."

The arbiter adjusted his glasses, "That doesn't speak well of your training, Paladin. You were trained to be able to detect something like that."

"What does that say about the others?" Kadmon asked, now staring straight into his judge's eyes, "As far as I know, Arbiter Jayen, none of the other paladins could-"

"The other paladins," Jayen scowled, "Are not on trial here, are they?" Silence responded, "Now, do you have anything further to say before I pass judgement?"

Kadmon looked up again with fire in his eyes. He was about to shout easily some of the most vile expletives he knew at the arbiter, but was interrupted by the sounds of a struggle in the main hallway.

Jayen didn't seem to notice this, and said, "Very well then. Paladin Kadmon, you are stripped of your position in the Temple Paladins. Furthermore, for loosing that demon on the world, both you and Lyra are sentenced to-"

"To leave here, untouched." A calm voice from the courtroom entrance said. The two guards at the doorway hit the floor simultaneously and slid several meters before stopping. All eyes moved to the voice, that of a man with long grey hair and a short trimmed beard. It was mere moments before the eyes moved from him to the long, curved, smoking red sword he had in his hand, "That is, if you and your precious guards value your lives."

The arbiter moved to stand, but quickly found himself dangling meters above the courtroom floor. Jayen flailed wildly, trying to free himself from whatever it was that held him.

The old man moved forward, toward Kadmon and Lyra. "Head out into the woods," He whispered, "I have a cabin four miles west of here. I'll meet you there at nightfall."

"Thanks, Gramps," Lyra said as both she and Kadmon rushed from the court.

A grin crossed the old man's face, "Now then, I would advise against moving so much, Arbiter," He took a few more steps into the center of the room, "Its been a little over half a decade since I've used my telekinesis, and I'd hate for something to make me slip."

Guards flooded in through the doorways as spectators retreated from danger. The old man could recognize the colors of the Paladins among them.

"Well well, so you fools know what you're dealing with then." With a flick of his wrist, Jayen went flying into the Kaltimorian flag that sat behind his podium, "In that case, the games are over," The old man drew a second, smaller sword which drained the light from the room. A pair of orange orbs lit in mid air, "You lose."

--------

Telama wasn't a large city, nor was it a small one. However, in the entire Kaltimorian empire, it had the single largest unemployment and homelessness rating. Arkad dismounted from his wyvern a fair distance from the city. If the bums here knew that the Dark Wizard was visiting, they would all hide away until they thought he was gone. It was much better, he decided, to enter in disguise.

If there was one thing the wizard knew, it was that the poor and homeless flocked to those who looked like they had money. With little more than a thought and a brief chant, his wizardly robes were gone, replaced by the fine garments of a nobleman. With a huff of annoyance and another spell, Arkad moved for the city.

Even before he'd entered the city, people gathered around him. His Charm spell had worked. These people would follow him to the grave if he asked them to. A wonderful work of magic, this Charm spell was. Those of lesser intelligence swarmed to him, unable to take their eyes from him.

There was one man, however, who hadn't budged from where he sat. With a quick command, Arkad sent the mass of people marching in the direction of his lab. He took his time walking to the man, stopping to sniff roses and peruse useless trinkets at various stands along the way.

"Explain to me how you are immune to my spell." The wizard commanded, not turning to look at the other man.

"Simple," He said, turning his head in the general direction of the voice, "For one, I'm not a simpleton like the other beggars, whom I might add have become rather quiet. Secondly, I'm blind, you magic-wielding ninny."

Arkad turned, forming a ball of liquid fire in his hand, "How d-" He stopped short of actually saying anything, noting the finely crafted ebony handled dagger pointing at his throat.

"You'd do well to put the fire away, wizard. I may be blind, but if you aren't civil with me, you'll be dead." Hearing the fire disipate, the blind man sheathed his dagger. "Now then, you should feel honored. You've been spared by the Emerald Assassin."

"Archimedes himself. So, it's true what they said," Arkad stepped closer, but stopped when he saw the blind man's hand moving for his dagger again, "Your eyes were plucked out, and you were left a beggar." He stepped back, turning his back to the assassin. The legendary Emerald Assassin would be a fine catch. "I have something for you that no passing noble could give you."

Archimedes turned again to face the wizard, "Is that so?" His hand gripped tightly around his dagger hilt, "And what might that be?"

"Sight."

Seran knew he was dreaming, because he kept seeing that strange green warrior in his head, leaping over his head and bringing down the Kaltimorian force. It was the same scene from the battle on the foot of Death Mountain, replaying over and over, making him all the more curious as to just who this person was.

Wait, something new. He started to pay better attention to his visions, and saw himself, holding not his trusty dagger but a long sword and battling what looked like Wolfos with the warrior behind him. He and his ally struck down many foes, but then the great wolf-king that had formed the foundation of Seran's nightmares came forth, wreathed in fire, eyes glowing red.

And Seran snapped awake, sweating and shaking. His fire had gone out, but his blanket had been keeping him warm.

Hold up. He didn't have a blanket.

And then he saw the Goron snoozing peacefully close by.

"What the -"

Ezan scanned the approaching army, all of them clad in black armor. There were only a few fusions among the enemy, none of which would be much of a threat, except for one.

A Dodongo.

A huge, half-man half-dodongo fusion stomped ahead, wielding a great axe and breathing breaths of threatening flame from it’s mouth.
Well...that thing may cause a problem.

“FIRE!!”
Boulders were released from the catapults and flew over the field, where they crushed any soldier they landed on. The shower of rock wasn’t enough to take out even a fifth of the army though. As soon as the Kaltimorians were close enough, Ezan notched an arrow in his bow and let it loose, signaling for the rest of the archers to release theirs.
The arrows rained down into the sea of black, and the splashes they made were that of blood, few missing their targets.
However, arrows that hit the dodongo merely bounced off its extremely hard hide. Ezan could tell by looking it in the eye it was getting annoyed.

“Get back! Everyone!” He ordered.
Curling his left hand into a fist, he concentrated on the magic in the black gauntlet he wore. His hand suddenly burst into flames, yet he did not seem to feel pain, and just jumped up on top of the wall. The dodongo looked up and, taking a deep breath, shot a blast of roaring flame right up at the wall.
“This wall is not going down while I’m here!!” Ezan yelled, raising his hand. His fingers opened in the flame that engulfed his hand, revealing a small glowing red orb. It flashed, and then a large bust of fire shot from his palm. Both blasts of incinerating flame collided in a flash and, with a spectacular display of power, exploded.
The shockwave from the blast pulsed over the area, knocking down soldiers from either army. Ezan’s cloak and hair blew harshly, but he was knocked from his perch.

“A...amazing!!” gasped a recovered soldier of Fanelia.
“No joking,” replied another. “I knew that Sir Ezan could summon the powers of Din... but I never have seen it before, or such an awesome display of power.”
Ezan hopped down from where was standing and walked down to the lower area of the wall, saying, “Get back up there, soldiers! Fire at will!”
He dropped down to the gates of the city, where his horse was waiting for him ahead of rest of the riders, along with the knights.
Ezan looked a little out-of-place among the silver clad soldiers and knights of Fanelia, wearing but a dark blue cloak and shirt with chainmail under it. Wearing armor wasn’t something he liked because he felt that it held him back in battle, making him slower with all the extra weight. Now it was time to ride into battle, and Ezan was fully confident he could take on that dodongo by himself.

Drawing his sword with his right hand, and gripping the reigns with his other, he nodded to the guards to open the gates.

“Now! We ride into battle! Obliterate those fools who dare ride against this great city!”
The gates opened and Fanelia’s army flooded out of the city.

Name: Protheus
Class: Demon Slayer
Alignment: On the good side of neutral
Place of Birth: Unknown
Age: Appears to be 25, is actually 13,099
Race: Unknown
Armor: Well worn leather boots, and a ragged tunic.
Weapons: None that he carries with him

Appearance: He seems normal at first glance, but look closer and you might see the enigma hiding behind his glowing pupil-less eyes. His average size does not attract any unwanted attention, nor does his chest length golden blonde hair make him seem out of place. But his eyes will often get him into trouble when that sort of thing is abnormal. Which is why he usually hides his entire body behind a crimson robe. His feet are protected by a long since expired pair of leather boots, and he is clothed by an aging white tunic, more brown now than white. He rarely wears gauntlets of any kind and his legs are covered by dirty black pants.

Discription: 6 feet in heighth, 190 lbs., every muscle is perfectly toned and shaped. He has a piercing gaze, one which will strike fear into the weak and challenge the powerful. His robe's hood is always illuminated by his eyes, which can be useful at times but usually more trouble than anything else. His body is covered from head to toe in scars and wounds, yet some of them reappear after healing and few know why.

History: Two thousand years ago, Protheus served as Head Knight to the King of a vast and diverse kingdom in a dimension not unlike most. However in time that realm came under seige of horrible creatures and spirits. In an effort to quell the forces of the enemy, all Knights of the kingdom were granted a magical ability known as "Soul binding". However as useful a trait as this was, it also was extremely dangerous. If the Knight could not contain the spirit within himself, they both would die. As a result many thousands of brave warriors died. But those who lived on were the ones who could not only bind another spirit to their own, but also go on to use it as an extension of themselves. Moreover, there was an elite group of said Knights who could harness and control the power of multiple spirits. Naturally, Protheus was one such Knight. But in spite of their efforts, they could not repel the assault and their dimension was over run, forcing many to flee to any other plain of existance capable of supporting them. When the blood bath was over, Protheus had claimed within his body five hundred spirits. Since that time, he has added yet five hundred more. But he fears that if he dare take another that he would no longer be able to maintain himself, and would succomb to the constant pressure put upon his body of the spirits trying to escape. But not every soul within him is evil, there are those that sacrificed themselves willingly in order that they might assist Protheus in his journey. It is because of these good spirits that he is able to keep control of himself at all times. Should he take on another spirit, he would no doubt become a raging lunatic, go into a coma.... or worse. Protheus often finds himself in a new dimension every week. Or atleast he suspects so... he lost track of any kind of "time" a long while ago. He possess the ability to jump from one dimension to another, but there is a strange spell placed on him that randomly sends him across space and time. Now it has brought him to this land which is in chaos. Perhaps it is mere coincidence, or perhaps fate hath decided it. Either way, he is here all the same.

Abilities: As part of his soul binding, he may call upon any of the spirits within him, to come out of his body and take form. Whether it be a weapon or a form of armor, or just a magical effect to one of those, every spirit within him is at his beckoning.


IC:

On a cool eve, the full moon glistened off of the ever clear, Lake Hylia. Basking beneathe it were two hylians, who by even a fools logic were obviously in love. Whispering to one another, they failed to see the pillar of light descending down upon them from seemingly no where. Looking up at last, they quickly realized that whatever it was, it was coming straight down on top of them. They moved with great haste to escape from the ground which errupted violently as soon as the light had landed... so to speak.

"What is it Daren?" the young woman asked, to which her companion replied "I don't know... stay here." he said and walked to the edge of the newly formed crater. As he peaked in, his throat was grabbed by a strong fist which lifted him up as the body to which it belonged rose from the smoking hole.

He asked what the land was called, by received no response. "Right.... he doesn't speak this language..." the man said to himself, and then dropped the frightened hylian to the ground. "I'll have to find out from somebody else...." he said and continued on, walking past the shimmering lake which reminded him of many things, he looked steadfastly towards the path ahead. In the far distance he could see what looked like a small village. He would get his answers there.

OOC: Surprise WT! Hehe. I wasn't sure whether or not I'd get to join this story or not, but it would seem that I am, for a little while atleast. I know this post was short, but I'll do more later.

Heya Cow, glad to see that you’re back!

_________


The black and silver blade swung through a neck of a soldier, then swung to the other side, cutting halfway down another Kaltimorian. The blue-cloaked knight slashed left and right as he charged over other soldiers, making his way towards the dodongo. Before he got close enough, however, two wolf fusions (the only other fusions in the army) pounced at him from the front, knocking him from his horse.
Ezan rolled on the ground, and then kicked the two half-wolves away. He had escaped with only a few cuts in this tunic; the slashes hadn’t been strong enough to penetrate his chainmail. The two wolves were quickly back on their feet and were running to attack him again. He jumped over one as it slashed at him, then back-kicked it away and shot a fire blast at the oncoming other wolf. It howled in pain as the force knocked it backwards, crashing through other enemies and setting them on fire in the process.

Ezan turned to the first half-wolf and slashed horizontally at it, but it surprised him, catching the blade in its teeth. It jumped up and kicked Ezan in the face, sending him into the dirt. In an attempt to finish him off, the wolf leapt forward and clawed at his neck...only to have his head sliced with a quick swing of Oblivion.
The knight jumped back to his feet and without giving it a thought headed towards the fire-breathing monster.

__________

Holy crud that was short....Oh well, I'll make up for it tomorrow. G'night.

"Let me get this straight..." The old man stroked his beard, "You," He said, pointing to Lyra, "Touched that," His finger moved to Nakitama, "And released Akuma?"

Lyra looked at Kadmon, who wasn't really paying attention, but was actually working on patching his mantle. He wasn't exactly being helpful. "I suppose thats what happened. Why does it matter?"

He smashed a statue of a gargoyle with his bare fist, "Why does it matter?! Akuma is a SHADOW DEMON," Her great-grandfather growled, "He survives by possessing bodies. Even without a body he is quite deadly. Do either of you know who Garlanus Aleste is?"

Kadmon perked up a bit, looking from his work, "I met his ghost. He's the one who scared off Akuma."

"Scared off...." He grumbled, "If it weren't for you two, he would still be in that sword, and not out terrorizing the countryside!" He put his fist through the door, "Do you know how much I put into that Seal spell?"

"You... put into?" Kadmon asked, putting his needle and thread down, "Wait, Akuma said that he'd been in there a millenium...." His eyes began to wander around the room inquisitively, then finally centered on the old man again, "Just how old are you? And what is your name?"

The old man grinned a toothy grin, then turned his back to the paladin, "Whoops. Looks like I gave myself away with that one." There was a bright flash of light, "My name, if you must know, is Yamiji. I am over forty-six thousand years old," The light died down, and where the old man had stood, now there was a silver-skinned, red-haired man, "I would give you an exact number, but I stopped counting the small years a few centuries ago."

Lyra looked Yamiji up and down, noting the fact that, in spite of the loss of the beard and the change of hair color and length, he looked much the same. His skin color was different, but all in all, this form looked more natural on him. "So, are you actually my great-grandfather?"

The demon popped his knuckles and walked around the room, as he tried to regain the feel for his largely unused form. "Yes, I am your great-grandfather. That makes you... errr..." The demon's orange eyes drifted upward as his hand moved to his chin, "Blasted math... Well, anyway, you are at least part demon, albeit a small part." He turned to look at Kadmon, "I fought alongside you during the second war. From what I gathered from your stories, you have only been using your more.... rudimentary skills." Yamiji walked to the door and motioned for the younger pair to follow him.

Kadmon followed, slightly dumbfounded. 'I've only been using my basic skills?' He wondered to himself.

'Yes.' The response came so suddenly it cause him to jump, 'Your Blast Sword was only part of a much more complicated series of techniques.' Yamiji turned to the paladin, "To be honest, I don't rightly understand how you managed some of those moves." In a flash, the demon drew his sword and struck out at Kadmon, who instinctively threw his hands forward. A black barrier formed between the shocked paladin and the archdemon's sword. "Very good. It would seem that even if you don't remember your abilities, your body does." As Yamiji eased the pressure off of his sword, the barrier disappeared, "That was your shadow shield. I wouldn't advise you to rely on it too heavily. If you want to know why, wipe your forehead."

"Wipe my..." Kadmon touched his head with his hand, but rapidly recoiled it in pain. Blood was flowing freely from a painful gash, "But how did that..."

"Lyra, would you kindly patch him up while I explain?"

"Sure, gramps." She took out a needle and some thread, "Keep still, this will only take a minute."

Yamiji sheathed his sword, then quickly sliced down a tree with his claws. With a swift kick, the tree was sent flying, "Now then, the reason you shouldn't use your shield too much is because of what you see there. All magic has a certain backlash. With most, its spiritual energy, which recovers over time, more quickly when you rest," The demon idly levitated the tree he'd cut down, then used his magic to cut it into pieces for later use as firewood, "However, a shadow shield works differently. The toll it takes is physical. It prevents fatal wounds, at the cost of lesser injuries, cuts and broken bones."

Kadmon winced as Lyra stitched his forehead, "This is a bit much to take in all at once."

"And there is much more to you that you don't know yet. However, if I bring it all back at once, there is a very good chance it would drive you mad, and frankly, I would rather not see some of your abilities in the hands of a madman." Yamiji walked back inside, "You should rest here tonight. In the morning, I'll show you a way out through the Lost Woods to the relative safety of the plains."