From the depts of the Abyss I come...

Rooky · Post by **Rooky** » Tue Jul 18, 2006 1:46 pm

*As the huge gates open before you, in the darkness, you see huge pillars supporting the roof wich be engulfed in darkness of the night. The once large vitrage (stained glass) windows lay shatered on the door. A large statue, almost 9 feet tall, of a God long dead now stood proudly, and in front an altar. Leaning gently on the altar, a female of avarege height wearing a suit of lightweight field plate armor made of mithril. Resting close to her leg a bastard sword. Tha bastard sword be made of adamantium. The handle was of a rusty red color and the gem inside was the color of blood. Her face be hidden behind an elaborate helm with demon horns that be curling back.

She lifted her head elegantly, not bothering to reveal her face and looked up at you. As she did, the torches wich you've not noticed previusly lit up, and the drankess that engulfed the ancient temple be gone, and light be made. Partly destroyed, you've only just realized how great in size the temple was. The body of the God was shown. It was clearly seen that it was a Long lost demon god. It huge horns made the full moon look like part of the statue itself.

The woman picked her sword up and pointed it towards you, and a small pair wings utterly uselles for flight appeared behind her back. She made no sound, and showed no intenion of showing her face.

She paitently awaited for your reply, wheter you exept her challange or not.

Velve · Post by **Velve** » Wed Aug 16, 2006 1:11 pm

A human male dressed in blackened fullplate slowly aproaches. His scimitar remains sheathed at his belt, and the towershield strapped to his back remains as such.

There is no armor on his left arm, or where his arm should be, rather there is only gleaming white bone. Only a little of his pale skin is visible through the gap of his helm, and his souless eyes would seem more fitting on the dead. In the middle of his breastplate a small purple gem is imbeded, though the gem seems to be nothing magical, and a wooden trinket hangs on a leather cord around his neck.

He crosses the massive temple with the slowness of one who has no real destination, yet certainly the small limp to his step does little to aid his speed.

"You wish a battle?" His voice is as emotionless and cold as anything else about him, and is dry as though he had not bothered to drink in days.

OOC: By the way you wrote it, for a while I thought you were waiting for someone specific. But as its been quite a while I guess I was wrong, so mind if I join in?

Rooky · Post by **Rooky** » Thu Aug 17, 2006 9:58 am

OOC: No one specific. Qhell wanted to join in but got writers block. Besides, you already joined in

IC:

The woman nods in agreement. She walks towards you, slowly, with a strange grace, flapping her wings every so often. She raised her sword. Not bothering to look at her opponent, so much as to speak with him. She charged, small embers rising from the sword.

Velve · Post by **Velve** » Thu Aug 17, 2006 12:55 pm

The man silently unstraps his shield from his back then restraps to his right arm as the woman begins to move towards him, then he draws his scimitar into his skeletal left. As the winged lady begins to charge, he plants his feet firmly apart, shifting into a clearly defensive position in which he remains, awaiting her first strike.

Rooky · Post by **Rooky** » Fri Aug 18, 2006 4:17 pm

*The womans sword leaving a deep cut, suggesting strenght greater then normal, and small flames still drift from the hit. She backs up, and repeats the same tactic several times schorching the shield in the process. She quickly backs up after that, waiting for the mans reply.*

Velve · Post by **Velve** » Fri Aug 18, 2006 5:23 pm

Blood trickles from the fresh wound in his right shoulder, though the left-handed warrior gives no sign he noticed. When his opponant backs up from the offensive, he begins to chant in a low tone, recognisable to some as a spell (Still spell: haste).

Rooky · Post by **Rooky** » Fri Aug 18, 2006 7:25 pm

*The woman doesn't reply to the chanting, but she flaps her wings and her eyes seem to flash severall times under the helmet. She crouches slightly, ready to jump out of the way. It doesn't seem she recognizes the spell*

Velve · Post by **Velve** » Tue Oct 03, 2006 4:13 pm

The chant ends, and for a second he stands there, the eyes unseen in the shadows of his helm watching the woman. Abruptly he lurches forward, and despite his small limp, charges the short distance with stupifying speed, oddly raming his sheild forward at her when in range.

Rooky · Post by **Rooky** » Thu Oct 05, 2006 11:01 am

*The woman is thrown away by the shield-bearer backward. She recovers faster then normal due to heritage. She stares at the opponent for a while, and charges, her balde relising sparks. At 3 feet distance the blade is engulfed in flames and she smashes the shield with all force, this time setting it a flame. She quickly back up, and repeats the tactic three times before backing up and waiting for her opponent to charge. If looked closely, a wing is damamaged, and her right hand has a small cut, with demons blood coming out of it.

Velve · Post by **Velve** » Thu Oct 05, 2006 2:40 pm

The man holds his shield steady through the repeated strikes, the little movments he makes seem as though made by a statue, showing no emotion in his mechanical-seeming movments. At the last strike, he twist the sheild to face up slightly, and then thrusts the shield upward altogether when his foe's blade makes contact, a clear attempt to knock her weapon above her leaving her exposed to attack. As he does so he sweeps his left hand in, the scimitar aiming for her (hopefully) exposed sword arm. Again the scimitar moves in and strikes lower at her right side, then again in a thrust at her belly. He brings his still flaming sheild back down swiftly, if in his usual stiff movments, bracing for another assult, though the sheild is visably weakened.

Rooky · Post by **Rooky** » Thu Oct 05, 2006 7:49 pm

*The woman's expressions are hidden, and no sounds come from her what so ever, not eaven when the sword strikes her arm. She backs away holding her arm, demon blood pouring out of it.
She held up her sword, her wings flapping, and her eyes shinned red underneath her helmet. The sword was engulfed in flames again, only this time greater heatr was coming from it. She charged, a trail of spark and flames behind her. Within three feetshe slamed the shield, again, and again, and again, until finally it broke. She quickly backed away, her arm now coated in her own blood, and some of it was dripping from her belly.

She pattiently awaited his next move, slightly hunched from the pain.

Velve · Post by **Velve** » Fri Oct 06, 2006 3:53 am

As the demon woman lets up the assult, the human lets the shattered remains of the sheild fall to the ground, yet some metal splinters seem to have lodged into his arm and some blood trickles from the wounds, though perhaps not so much as one would expect.

Once more he begins to chant in his morose yet somehow still emotionless tone. In reaction to his chant, small flames begin to lick along his own blade (Still spell: flame weapon).

Rooky · Post by **Rooky** » Fri Oct 06, 2006 2:02 pm

*The demon stands up straigh, silent and doesn't move. THe flames on her blade seem to be growing be the second, and her eyes keep glowing red. She streches her wings and charges forward, and with full force swings the blade at the man.*

Velve · Post by **Velve** » Sat Oct 07, 2006 7:29 pm

The time his foe remained still gave him the time to finnish his spell, and his scimitar was folly wreathed in flames, rather dull flames which moved with a sluggish grace, unlike the untamed vigor of most fire.

Predictably, the man's feet remained planted to the spot, as they had for all the battle, save his charge. His only movment, the slow licking of the flames along his blade, in the short moment it took the woman to reach him. His scimitar moved into position to block the demon's blade with deceptive speed. There is a grinding sound as the human's plate boots screech backwards on the dark floor from the force of the blow upon his weapon, yet his blade holds steady, forcing the woman to either strike again, or hold still against him in a weapon deadlock.

The momentum of the forcfull strike lost, he is no longer driven backwards, and he stares through the slits in his helm at the woman, still seeming less capable of emotion than a stone would be.

Rooky · Post by **Rooky** » Sun Oct 08, 2006 11:20 am

---CHECK OOC---

IC:

The woman's blade stands agains his in a weapon deadlock. The heat from her blade is unberable. Her eyes still remained the earie red glow, but it showed none of her face.