[CAMPAIGN] It's Not Supposed To Do That! UH - Oh...

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[CAMPAIGN] It's Not Supposed To Do That! UH - Oh...

Post by roleplayinggamer »

Mira was not what most expected to see when they were introduced to a wizard. Wizards, after all, were supposed to be these great and powerful men with flowing robes inscribed with archaic runic letters, symbols, and filled with self importance, able to silence the masses without uttering a sound... They were intimidating figures, with reputations that few dared to question, and it was rumored that they held all the most ancient knowledges inscribed in a collection of dusty old tomes, locked away in a tower somewhere. It was her intention to garner such respect, if only she could find a mentor to tutor her in such things, the issue was that she was, well... a girl.

Women should know their place society taught, women belonged at home by the hearth, cooking a filling supper for their husbands or fathers, they belonged to their fathers until a wealthy enough man came along to pay her dowry to that father to buy her as his latest conquest and possession. Now it wasn't that Mira wanted to disrespect her father, or the villa where she had grown into a fine young lady, it was just... well she knew there was so much more out in the wild blue yonder. She was the kind of girl that loved a good tale, of knights riding mighty chargers into battle to bring down a fiersome dragon, of elves singing sweetly in a forest grove beside a unicorn's pool. She longed to see such wonders for herself, and so she begged a local bard who often passed through the villa to tell her more of his valiant stories.

As the years passed, Mira began to notice strange things happening at unexpected times, things which she could not explain, and even things that frightened and amazed her. When at last her mother happened to be around during one such occurrence, she dropped the day's milk which she'd intended to sell at market. When they arrived home, her mother told her father of how Mira had been humming and whirling her fingers about, and an array of soft, translucent lines of swirling color and light had traced from her finger tips and then turned somehow into bubbles that floated off, popping soundlessly. "Witch craft," her father called it, he had her taken to the local temple at once, where she was thoroughly checked over for signs of posession. The whole ordeal not only frightened Mirabelle, but made her second guess just how much she could trust people in general, and when the clergy found no signs of evil within her, they sent her home in the care of her family, and recomended that they all get some rest, as though they might have been hallucinating.

Mirabelle knew now though that she was different, even special, and that she surely must have a greater purpose in life than to be the obedient wife of a grouchy old farmer. She packaged what she thought she would need into a little bundle and set out that very night, intent on finding someone that could teach her about these strange abilities that she seemed to have.

As she exited the little villa, and paused about a mile down the dirt path she looked back, wondering if her parents would ever understand with a heavy hearted sigh. As she turned around to continue on however, she came face to face with a scraggly looking ruffian, that bore a rather disturbing grin. "Well looky, looky what I've found, out so late at night. And... so alone." The thug taunted her. "Keep back you, or I'll.... I'll" She stuttered nervously. "You'll what?" He said, advancing on her, drawing a crude knife. Her eyes went to the weapon and she elicited a soft gasp. Her hands flew up reflexively, and the gesture unexpectedly triggered a new effect. Little did Mirable realize that she was to become what was known as a wild mage, and that she was in a wild mana zone which amplified her already difficult to control, chaotic power. It was why she had been seeing strange effects so regularly with only verbals, or just semantics, not always needing both to produce something fascinating. Her body seemed to become less and less substantial, until she became almost transparent, likened to a ghost, and then the last of her visage was enveloped in a luminescent sphere of soft purplish light as it consumed her and teleported her to a location entirely new, leaving the crook jarred and hightailing it for safer pigeons!

Meanwhile, Mirabelle found herself in a world of darkness, blind from every angle. "Hello?" She called out into the inky, all consuming place she had been brought to. She shivered faintly, this wasn't good, the underdark was no place for a sixteen year old farm girl.
Last edited by roleplayinggamer on Sat Oct 27, 2007 9:30 am, edited 1 time in total.
Tyrmer
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Post by Tyrmer »

OOC: Do you like ghoulash? Because if you've got the lash, I've got the ghoul.

IC: "Hello youself." Whispered a voice by her ear, a voice that sounded like its been buried for several years and then dug up and left to rot. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"
Last edited by Tyrmer on Fri Oct 26, 2007 8:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Titles:

Master of the Lady's Dances
Recoverer of the Tome of Moonlight
Scribe of the Dark Maiden's Temple

High Priest of the Church of Rooky :D
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Post by roleplayinggamer »

[quote="Tyrmer":y9t5v2ie]"Hello youself." Whispers a voice by her ear, a voice that sounds like its been buried for several years and then dug up to be left to rot. "What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"[/quote:y9t5v2ie]

Mira's head nearly whiplashed as she spun around, long tresses swinging about like the blades of a fan, searching for the source of the sound that was suddenly so close... so intimately close. "Who's there?" The girl's voice cracked, the voice of the ancient would hear the tremors in her words, her tone, her fear, it was all so very alive with raw, guttural emotion. She shifted uneasily, turning to face the voice that had not yet introduced itself, the only tongue she spoke was the typical common of the surface realm. She paused momentarily, considering the first question. "I... I don't know; I'm not supposed to be here, I was trying to get away from a man... Where am I? And who are you?" She asked again, more urgently this time, reaching towards her little bundle. One of the items she'd packed and brought with her as necessary was a small paring knife. "You'd better stay back, whomever you are, or I'll turn you into a toadstool!" She bluffed hesitantly, wondering what would happen if she actually tried to focus some of 'her' energies on another living being.
Tyrmer
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Post by Tyrmer »

OOC: OMG ghoul abuse!

IC: "Me? I'm nobody, not anymore." The voice hissed, then muttered. "Promises promises, I think I might enjoy being a toadstool."

A cold, clammy hand reached out and brushed her cheek. "Smooooth."
Titles:

Master of the Lady's Dances
Recoverer of the Tome of Moonlight
Scribe of the Dark Maiden's Temple

High Priest of the Church of Rooky :D
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Post by roleplayinggamer »

[quote="Tyrmer":18dztisr]"Me? I'm nobody, not anymore." The voice hissed, then muttered. "Promises promises, I think I might enjoy being a toadstool."

A cold, clammy hand reached out and brushed her cheek. "Smooooth."[/quote:18dztisr]

Mira jerked back, eliciting a frail gasp as her head turned to one side, and then the other, trying to force her feeble human eyes to see through the engulfing darkness. Her chest rose and fell as her pulse quickened and her breathing shallowed. She swallowed dryly as she reflected upon the voice's words. Why in the world would anyone enjoy being a toadstool? Apparently she was dealing with someone who'd lost hope, maybe even given up their will to live. For a moment it sickened her heart, and she felt the maternal urge to take in the unknown being, as a mother would. Her senses however, still sharp and on alert quickly got the better of her and she stepped back yet again. "I said keep back, and you will give your name, this instant!" It was very rude to keep her guessing, she was obviously frightened, and she began to wonder if the man in the dark was some kind of horrible monster out of a bardic tale that was toying with her before it pounced! The very notion sent shivers racing down her spine and she shuddered as she shook her head to try to clear her thoughts of such terrible imaginings.
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Post by Tyrmer »

The hand was withdrawn and a gurgling chuckle sounded through the darkness. "My name? I forget. What is my name?" The voice sounded slightly bemused. "What would you call me, little warmling?"
Titles:

Master of the Lady's Dances
Recoverer of the Tome of Moonlight
Scribe of the Dark Maiden's Temple

High Priest of the Church of Rooky :D
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Post by roleplayinggamer »

[quote="Tyrmer":b8j88m9a]The hand was withdrawn and a gurgling chuckle sounded through the darkness. "My name? I forget. What is my name?" The voice sounded slightly bemused. "What would you call me, little warmling?"[/quote:b8j88m9a]

She appeared befuddled, why was this person asking her to name them? It was senseless and it aggravated her. "Talk sense now, and for pete sake, I can't see a thing, where are you? What... are you?" She asked, her tone of voice indicating that some ire had been raised by having had a laugh at her expense. She rooted around in her makeshift bundle and pushed the paring knife aside, instead electing to take up a hunk of wood that would serve as a torch. She felt around for the broken halves of the flint and steel that she'd brought with her, and began sparking them together at the end of the makeshift torch. Any well mannered girl like herself looked another in the eye when having a conversation with them! Besides, this individual sounded quite odd, and she wondered why they would be in a world without light. "Where are we?" She added as she tried to light up the ghoul's life.
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Post by Tyrmer »

OOC: Pun intended.

IC: "Pete?" The voice asked. "I like it, my name's Pete. Pleased to meat you."

As the light flared the ghoul was revealed in front of her, black eyes gleaming in the torchlight, bleached purplish skin seeming oddly fluorescent. It hissed and dived away from the brightness but stopped at the edge of the light, swaying slightly as if ready for fight or flight.
Titles:

Master of the Lady's Dances
Recoverer of the Tome of Moonlight
Scribe of the Dark Maiden's Temple

High Priest of the Church of Rooky :D
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Post by Xion »

Having an Illithid as an Advisor gave its purpose and advantages in moments. That shot of raw, random magic, powerful but uncontrolled would be the means of Xion's noticed.

"[color=green:1qzsdm90][i:1qzsdm90] Ssssire, I felt something..... Sssssomething that doesn't belong... [/i:1qzsdm90][/color:1qzsdm90]" Izis spoke with a trembling discomfort. For someone as him, calculated and perfected in the laws of magic, something so raw and abstract wouldn't suit him well. His bony, slimy fingers rolled about one another's knuckles, teasing along the slicky fleshy palm in contemplation. Beading eyes across that squid like maw, his tendrils licked across the sides of his face and down the beautiful tapestry of dark, mundane colors he wore.

"[color=darkred:1qzsdm90] Hmm? What would that be? [/color:1qzsdm90]" Xion lifted his head from the obvious bored glare of his slouch from the throne and turned his teal gaze to his stated Advisor. A warrior, a commander and a ruler, but above all today seemed lacking of anything to give orders for, the days he hated the most. He lifted his heaving and giant body forward with acceptance to Izis' worry. It was mostly impossible for anyone to distinguish the emotions, or the thoughts of an Illithid, but between the two, it was a habit to take in the subtle hints of personality.

"[color=darkred:1qzsdm90] Izis, speak up. Don't give me grief where it doesn't belong. Your long pauses only leave that ill shiver down my spine.[/color:1qzsdm90] " His words as always, crisply spoken, powerful and broad to allow them to be heard with perfection. It was something given through battle, that all commanders, leaders would have to learn how to speak through the clash of war to message orders correctly, or fall trying.

"[color=green:1qzsdm90][i:1qzsdm90] Uncontrolled magic Sssssire. Something untaped to the laws of the ley-line. It's unruled, random, and very powerful, but deadly. It seems that a spike of its power surged just near by.... [/i:1qzsdm90][/color:1qzsdm90]" His slithery voice was clear now, he was too deep in thought to loose his concentration just as of yet, and full focus was needed to find the source of this illogical tamper in the Arcane.

That gleam in Xion's eyes. It showed that his interest, his curiosity once again got the better of him. Through all of his explorations he realized that talent, true unlocked potential was the means of gathering a firm grasp of all reality. He seeked out these talents, trained them, taught them ways beyond their natural means to expose their true power that stretch the bounds of limitation. Paragons, like himself, means of the next generation of evolution.

"[color=darkred:1qzsdm90] Izis, link me the source of the center of the alter. I'm going out... [/color:1qzsdm90]" Xion stood quickly and headed down the onyx halls. The giant double doors chizzled away to form a masterpiece of war and beauty in his eyes etched into the odd stone. Firm hands grasping the thick and heavy weight, only to swing it open to the guards awaiting just outside, and down the long row of wide steps he would head into the city. Like a mental link, a champion to his steed Adamisk came trotting forward. Fur, slick, and blacker than any place in the Underdark, smoldering heavy vapors of smoke rolling from his exhaling nostrils, and the burning mane and hooves crackling with their chaotic flames.

"[color=darkred:1qzsdm90] Adamisk, I've missed you my friend. [/color:1qzsdm90]" A stern but warm smile as his right hand lifted to caress down the slick short fur of his mount, pulling through the licks of flame without so much as a ignite. Adamisk, a beaten creature that submit himself to its dominant, and forever sworn to do as bid.

"[color=darkred:1qzsdm90] Let us go, we have to make haste and I trust none other than you to take me their with great speed. [/color:1qzsdm90]" He leaned into the ear, whispering it as if some hidden and powerful secret. The intelligent mount, this Nightmare was a means of understanding and was easily manipulated by Xion's silver, and forked tongue. His head knit in excitement, slamming the fiery hove into the cracking ground, adrenaline flowing through his mighty form. The saddle would outline with fire like red, empty before filling with the material form. It was solid, existing and bound with heavy magics that wrapped around the Nightmares body. In moments the armor would shift from the snake like bands of Arcane cured straps, wrapping across the black and fiery body with shifts of metal twisting into existence. Full armor, hidden over the eyes and what mane of flame and hooves, beading red eyes hidden under the adamantine that so protected it.

Xion took to the reigns, stepped up and into the saddle and readied himself with a lowered form. Even with his strength, this Nightmare was something different, something even he had to prepare for, otherwise made a fool of when he finds himself toppling onto his back. With that one great cry of power it leaped its front hooves into the air, kicking away before slamming into the ground, taking no time to catch the momentum and blurring through the city streets. The trail of flame followed, slowly falling gracefully to the ground that it so levitated just above in its hasty movements, and Xion, holding on as the wind and fire streamed through his features.
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Post by roleplayinggamer »

Tyrmer:

The look on Mira's face was an expression that any true horror could appreciate; she was so astounded by the ugliness of the creature, naught but a few feet away from her, that she dropped her torch and trembled as she continued to back pedal. The flames she had only barely managed to spark fading from view almost as though the will of the ghoul had extinguished them.

"Please, whatever you are, stay away from me!" She said, her trembling physique pleaded with the ghoul, her voice hiding none of the fear she so vibrantly felt. The foul being's olfactory senses might even detect the delicious aroma of genuine terror in the dank, musty cavern from her radiant pheramones.

Those atrocious black orbs that had stared at her, were burned into her mind; twinned globes of endless abysmal depth that in her mind's eye, engaged her in conversation solely to inspect their prey before it tore her limb from limb. Her wild imagination began to run away from her, as she had flashbacks of the bardic stories she had crooned to hear as a child.

She wondered if the creature had stepped out of a legend, as this could be no man stricken with disease. Men, even sickly ones, had pupiled eyes with beautiful, living color. That... thing had no such traits, and it's flesh was a stranger color than any she'd ever seen.

As 'Pete' lurched away from her, she paused, no goodly soul feared the light, and this alarmed her greatly. "I mean it you! You keep back away from me! I won't warn you again!" She was trying in vain to make her words sound as intimidating and full of bravado as she possibly could, though she doubted she was fooling anybody.

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

Xion:

The slender farm girl inched forward towards the general area she had lost her torch in, lowering slowly into a crouch, listening for any signs that the unwelcome presence of the ghoul was moving simultaniously closer to her. She thought back to the bard's wild tales, and tried to recall if any of his stories had ever referenced a villain like the humanoid monster swaying in an uncomfortable readied stance so close by. If it's appearence alone hadn't been enough to seal that she didn't want any more to do with it, than it's unsure but aggressive reaction to the light surely would, and she meant to give it no quarter.

Reaching down to the smooth, cold, stone floor, she closed her eyes momentarily. It was easier to concentrate on searching for it, and it temporarily aleaved the discomfort of being unable to see even wide eyed as she was for her experiances today. At last she found her torch, and noticed that it had now cracked and splintered down the middle. It wasn't the sturdiest piece to begin with, but she was now very concerned that if it would burn at all, the length of time would be far too bleak. She opened her eyes again, and went to sparking the bits of flint and steel, but it would take several seconds, and she was losing patience. Frustrated, Mirabelle dropped the flint and steel cdhunks she'd stolen from home, and took the torch in both hands, holding it up and slightly back, elevated over her head as though she meant to use it as a hand launched missle should the ghoul decide to ignore her final warning.

Her breathing had settled back into a regular rhythem now however, and though she was very unsure of how to handle herself in a situation like this, she tried to prepare herself for whatever might come. She had never been familiarized with the concept of an animated corpse, nor of many other equally and superior horrid marvels that the Underdark had to offer. She began to regret her decision to leave home; her parents might have been flawed in their thinking, but they loved their daughter, and she was anything but ready to set out into the great unknown. Mira sucked in her lower lip and bit down softly, loathe to admit that her father's idea of a good life for her might have been right.

She shook her head stubbornly, steadfast in the righteousness of her so called cause, she had made the hard choice, but it was the right choice! She scolded herself mentally; but swallowed dryly, as she turned a glance into the waiting ghoul's direction. What did the creature want? Why had it insisted on touching her? Did it even realize how physically cold it was? Or how creepy? She was about to say something else, when she felt something new, something different that she could not explain. It was a feeling she had never had before, and she was already stirred up by her encounter with 'Pete', so this latest sensation did little to calm her frayed nerves.

"What on earth...?" She wondered allowed, talking more to herself than to her new aquaintence, what she could feel was the illithid reaching out, was it with psionics? Magics? She had no idea as to what these concepts were, as she had never been formally schooled in such things. She knew only that she felt something different, and whatever it was, it was powerful, almost addictive in it's obscurity. Whatever it was, she was drawn to it, and felt a longing to be nearer to it, as though it were a key of sorts, a powerful force that was an unknown part of her that sang as a siren to beckon her into reunion. She felt it's mental fingerprints as it tapped into the region she stood in, as if it's raw power was washing over her eager, young mind.

"Where are you?" The young woman questioned the force that was unknown to her out loud, "What are you?" 'Pete' would no doubt assume she was speaking to 'him', but in truth it was the illithid Izis, to which her questions were directed, even as she stood vulnerable, and sightless, in this darkness. This new sensation of power felt natural, comfortable, and she wondered if the gods themselves were extending a portion of their love to protect her from the ghoul that seemed intent on conversating with her and possibly more... At least she hadn't heard it's stomach gurgling... yet.

'Come to me, I'll wait for you' she thought to him; of course she had no idea of what telepathy was, or how to perform it, but she was sure that whatever was happening, and whomever was causing it, had to be benign for it to feel so right. Oh how wrong she was, but it was said that ignorance is bliss. She was certain that whomever the power behind these odd feelings was, that surely they would hear and comprehend her emotions, her fears, and her readiness to learn who and what she was. She was so beyond ready to be led out of the dark, and into the light. to know what secrets shrouded her strange gifts in seductive mysteries, just waiting to be unlocked.

She turned her back on the ghoul now, ready to embrace the source of the energies she felt pulsing all around her, she felt as if under the protective gaze of the gods themselves, and with that confidence, she paid the ghoul no heed. So foolish, youths were, but some lessons were best learned the hard way, if they were survived...

She tried her best to let go of her fear, though to release it entirely she found an impossible task, but she had faith, and trust, and like many human beings that walked the surface world, she was easily beguiled by the priesthood's lectures, seeming 'miracles' and displays. She had never seen a cleric, nor a mage, but she had seen the bard perform a few parlor tricks, and so she knew that magic existed, and was more than just hte stuff of legends. She knew it for a fact now, and as she harkened in the waiting dark, she began to hear and feel a wind whistling, bringing in whisps of smoke, and heat, and it brought a smile to her forelorn features, a smile that was usually always present, but had been temporarily stolen away from her in the ghoulish inspired presence of fear.

As Xion and his despicable mount drew closer to where she awaited a divine presence, she dusted herself off, wanting to make the best impression that she could, pulling her mouse brown tresses over her shoulder, and taking in a deep breath of anticipation. She could hear the smash of small rocks scattering as the beast's hooves occasionally impacted the stone, and the echo that resulted made for an appropriate drum roll to announce Xion's coming. She pursed her lips together and blew out a nervous exhalation. Would she be accepted? Rejected? Left for that... creature if not wanted? Her smile momentarily faded, but returned quickly as the mounted figure of Xion came rushing in their direction, visable only as a dashing flame at first, and then seen more clearly as a hulking man seated atop a supernatural equine. She was very impressed, and hoped that she did not appear childish or giddy in her hope of being accepted.
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Post by Tyrmer »

OOC: I take my hat off to you, I feel thoroughly outclassed as a roleplayer. In plain english what he's saying is that a level one adventuring group got their mage pwned by a ghoul. They killed the ghoul but the mage turned into one and killed them as they slept. Why hello thar Pete.

IC: "Oh its "what" now is it? Hsss. .Mean to poor Pete with the bright light and then asks "what are you" of Pete." Pete grumbled as he circled back round now that the light has gone. He smelled the fear rolling off of his new find and fought the urge to pounce, to rip, to tear the warmling's flesh from its bones; but he couldn't stop himself from smacking his lips together and chuckling slightly.

"Once a pointy eared warmling there was." Pete said as he circled closer. "Thought it was invulnerable because it'd learned some arts. Got together with some other fools and entered the dark for golders and glee. Surprised they were when they were set upon by a Pete, pointy ear went down with a fever whilst the others killed the poor Pete, took the pointy ear home for its family they did. Surprised again they were when a pointy eared Pete toar their throats out in the night they were indeed." He chuckled again and smacked his lips involuntarily.

"The short one's bones went CRUNCH and SNAP they did." He said, close enough now for Mirabelle to feel his fetid breath on her neck. "And Pete was all alone. That is what Pete is." Seeing the approach of the flaming shape in the distance, Pete snarled next to Mirabelle's ear but stood its ground, awaiting whatever was coming.
Titles:

Master of the Lady's Dances
Recoverer of the Tome of Moonlight
Scribe of the Dark Maiden's Temple

High Priest of the Church of Rooky :D
Xion
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Post by Xion »

The thunder clash of hooves and metal rolled through the Underdark, it was an uninviting muster of power that strolled forward with great speed, ready to unleash its true chaotic nature. Smoke poured from Adamisk's nostrils, eyes gleaming like any unnatural beast hungry for what ruleless slaughter it could manifest. The line of flame, eating away at the ground below, trailing its path through the crackling ground and halting no more than 30 feet from their presence.

"[color=darkred:3t0izby4] A human... [/color:3t0izby4]" His words quiet and to himself as he glared through the flame that danced across his features. The licking mane of fire dancing across his strong features, teasing at his hair that willingly dance at its dominant seduction. Xion glared a moment, through the blackness, the light that peered through that void of absence, he could smell the death, that rotting body that lingered about her, was she a necromancer? No, she was to frightened, ill prepared, the stand and form of her body well detailed to give off that she was in fact NOT the undead's maker.

"[color=darkred:3t0izby4] Human, I will ask you once, and answer truthfully or I will remove you from this existence in the most painful and vile way. What brings you to this city? [/color:3t0izby4]" His form lifted and swung his opposet leg from the saddle, standing firm onto the ground just by his steed. Right hand resting at the mane, glaring at the two, the unliving blasphemy about her, and that human, the human female that brings that smell of the surface that burned irritation into his every breath almost more so than even the rotting corpse behind her.

He would wait just a moment, his steps gliding with a dominant presence of pride and stature as his hand slipped from Adamisk and fell to his side. No weapons about him, only the well crafted masterwork detail of armor. 'Pete' would feel something that would leave any intelligent undead uncomfortable to feel, magic composed across him, some form of accessory that allows the control of undead, to manipulate them, heavy in potency and strong weaved magic merged into the item that hide under his armor. The form would outline like a necklace, laced in beads of bone, etched with runic markings that would be seen with a negative energy that any undead could see. Xion stepped forward, slowly, calmly shrinking the gap between them.

"[color=darkred:3t0izby4] You there, come.[/color:3t0izby4] " Gesturing to both the woman and the undead. Drow, mainly heavy spell casters were known to consider ghouls, or undead like pets, keeping them heavy either through magic, or alternative means, but either way, 'Pete' would know of the neutral feeling that most felt twards them, at least here. As for the woman, Xion wanted a closer look of her, away from the flame that so set off his sight , unable to fully see in his Darkvision, nor able to fully see through the flickering light.

((Bah, horrible post.))
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Post by roleplayinggamer »

OOC: Well I just can't tell you what an ego boost it is to be told something like that. Thankyou! IC:

Mira shivered as the ghoul's rasping voice began anew; with it's questions, and it's accusations, all the while she could hear it's feet sliding across the stone, and it's disfigured lips meeting and parting. The image of it's still somehow held together form, the stench of decay that accompanied it, so many things that 'Pete' posessed that would haunt her when she tried to sleep now. Would she even be capable of dozing when she went to lie down? Thinking of how she would be sick with worry, of how she would imagine feeling his chilling presence, his bony fingers, sliding around her throat... She jerked with a start at the realization of how this would effect her, longing for the warmth and safety of home.

She turned to face him in the moments prior to Xion's arrival, angry that he relentlessly pressured her as the presumed presence of power was fast approaching, and nearly arrived. Still he pressed her for answers! "I wasn't even talking about you! You decrepit old thing!" She snarled quickly, in a harsh whisper. Though she listened as he told his tale, she loved stories, and even knowing that someone of great importance was almost here, she could never resist the fascinating fabrications the poets, minstrels, and now ghouls wove.

As he mentioned a point ear, he grabbed her half hearted attention, if only for a few seconds. "An elf you mean, I've heard of their kind." She rankled her lips and nose in disgust as he smacked his lips yet again, disturbed by the idea that he was capable of such malice. She hated how he seemed to play with her, she was not a child's toy! Still, she felt some bit of sympathy for him, he did deserve credit for an intriguing history, if it were in fact the truth. He stank of wrongness, and she couldn't help but doubt him.

As 'Pete' exhaled against the nape of her neck she froze, she hadn't realized he was that close to her, and her eyes flew wide, and between her new fear fueled adrenilen rush and her enragement for him continually violating her personal space, she reacted without thinking.

Her arms swung out before her, upon high above her head, wrists shifting, fingers separating as she screeched and focused on where she knew he had been a moment ago. Her hands came down fast towards him in a chopping motion, she meant to scathe him enough to deter him from remaining so close. She envisioned her finger tips as miniscule knives, hoping to draw shallow cuts and lines of blood, perhaps even across his tortured face.

She had tried to be kind, but her efforts had fallen on deaf ears, and he was doing more than his fair share to unnerve her! However, as she was untrained in the arts, her attempts to damage him would be damned for failure, as instead of knife-like nails, 'Pete' would find himself bathed in the light once more, as the wild magic that flowed within her veins caused her finger nails to glow with a faint yellow illumination. It was just enough to brighten about twelve inches around her hands, a cantrip in effect.

She looked down at her hands, astonished as it faded almost as suddenly as it had occurred. "How did I do that?" She wondered aloud, raising her head to gaze upon Xion as he brought the powerful jet black beast to a halt.

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

Mirabelle's eyes went wide with awe and bewilderment as she took in the simultaniously beautiful but horrific form of the singular being before her that was one flesh, melded atop a whimsical charger. Her mouth hung open as the flame wreathed steely hooves of the beast reflected within her sienna hued eyes. Slowly her head tilted back as her gaze raised up, from the long, well muscled legs of the nightmare to it's deep chest, across it's back to the breath of fire ejecting continuiously from it's hind quarters and back to it's long sinewy neck, solidly built head, and this brought her orbs up to rest upon the figure of Xion.

He was an imposing man, like none she'd ever seen with his ebony skin, shock of white hair, and his unearthly teal lenses. His sharp, chisled, angular features made her nearly melt into a contented puddle upon the spot, for she had no idea that he was a loathesome drow. Never before had she seen such impressive musculature, never had she lain eyes upon a man such as he. She realized her jaw hung agape suddenly and her cheeks became flushed with a rosy color. An uncertain and hope filled smile faded into view across her simple features, while the glean of innocence dancing in her eyes.

She appeared momentarilly spell bound, though realizing how she stared, and that it might offend him, she lowered her eyes to the ground and dropped to one knee in a subserviant bow, head tilted down in submission. His words shocked her, but if he were the one she thought him to be, or perhaps a messenger of that one, than she owed him the utmost respect and obediance. He obviously deserved such; she could tell by the way that he carried himself that he was some kind of knight or lord. Perhaps even a god?

She had never seen an elf, she knew only that they had pointed ears and that they loved music and the natural world. She spoke softly, as though her tone could offend him if used to excess. "My lord," she began unassuredly, "my name is Mirabelle, and I am here quite by accident. I beg of you not to harm me, I am deeply sorry if I have comitted an offense. I've no idea as to where I am, or how I got here. One moment I was trying to get away from a vagabond of the worst sort, and the next I was here shrouded in darkness."

She paused to allow him to judge her and to speak that judgement, that she might learn of where was and to whom she spoke. As he dismounted, her head raised only in the slightest degree, watching his feet shift across the stone and admiring his authoritative and powerful presence. As he beckoned her, she rose to her feet once more and slowly approached him, meeting his gaze yet again, but refraining from speech just yet.
Tyrmer
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Post by Tyrmer »

OOC: It's so hard not to sound like Gollum!

IC: Pete screamed as the bright light glares up right in front of him and dived away from it, tearing at his eyes in agony. But his legs wouldn't let him move away thanks to Xion's enchantments and felt himself drawn towards the mounted drow, hissing and snarling and fighting every step of the way.

"Hsssssssssss, what does the darkling pointy ear want?" He snarled, his voice full of malice at the magic controling his movements, occasionally trying to twist round and dart away but each time being restrained as if by an invisible leash that choked his throat.
Titles:

Master of the Lady's Dances
Recoverer of the Tome of Moonlight
Scribe of the Dark Maiden's Temple

High Priest of the Church of Rooky :D
Xion
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Post by Xion »

His breath was heaving, thick and calm as it stretch into his lungs and through his body, darting eyes, calculated with corrupt and foul plots to twist and maneuver his way through the ranks of the Underdark. His smile would fade, Teal shivering through the inky blackness to the human woman, and then to the rotten form beside her.

"[color=darkred:2co1ebjj] A human hmm? And what random powers would have linked you to the untaped and unfathomable Arcane beyond the rules of the Ley Line. [/color:2co1ebjj]" His address wasn't a question, more of an insight as he walked over to the two, gleaming through the stench on two legs and waving him off. As for the human, a near kind smile played across his lying face, he wanted her to swoon to him, to give into that temptation of his unearthly beauty as to allow him to easily manipulate her simple mind. By all means her ability to weave such extraordinary power was enough reason for him to use her, to delude her in his lies like a Viper.

"[color=darkred:2co1ebjj] Human girl Mirabelle, you find yourself deep in the cities of the Underdark, home of the Drow and other monstrous creatures. Do not fear this hollow shell beside you, there are much worse and darker evils about, come. [/color:2co1ebjj]" His hand gestured to her, turning about as he turned on his heels, heading close to his mount with a pat on his back and leaving off on foot. If she were to follow, she would remain safe, after all, what she didn't realize is only 60 or so feet from them were swarms of hidden warriors, ready to pounce and obliterate anything that opposed their hier. As for the Ghoul, he was welcome to come, the fact that Xion, a means of rulership not killing him on the spot was like welcoming '[i:2co1ebjj]it[/i:2co1ebjj]' with open arms.

((Bah, another mundane and simple post.))
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