For Old Times' Sake fantasy characterRP IC closed

[Autesia]

OOC: This is the IC thread, please keep OOC conversations to the OOC thread, which is here: viewtopic.php?ns=1&f=5&t=24627&p=956586#p956586, if you wish to join, post your character info there, and if the character is good enough, you may be allowed to join.

IC:
Vandyr shifted in his seat and examined the surface of the expensive waxed tabletop, the great hall around him was chilly, the faceless stone walls glaring down at him from between the expensive wall hangings. This cold hall was a dark reminder of Velyr's faded glory, a clear patch on an ink-soaked parchment. He hated being here, on each of the cold stone flagstones he saw the faces of his colleagues, views of the beauty of Velyr, in the flickering candle light he saw the shadows of the sleepy houses and mighty castles. But it was the only focal point in the town, the rest a whitewashed blur of fear and worry.
"How many do you think will come?" the voice rang through his reverie, crystal clear and smooth as quiksilver. He looked up at Maryl, the daughter he had never had. There was genuine concern in her deep eyes, usually such tranquil pools of turqouise, and her angled face was lined with worry.
"Who knows," Vandyr sighed, slumping back in his seat finally feeling his age, "who knows."

[F799]

the soft breaking of waves, the hiss of a stiff breeze blowing in off the sea, and minor creaks of The Guild, the small sailboat issued Sir Ahab, where the only noises beaking the stillness of the partly cloudy moon lit night. As The Guild gently slid onto the beach, coming to a halt with it's bow in the sand, Sir Ahab lept out, pulling the boat fully onto the shore and securing it to a solid stone jutting out from the beach.
Quickly, Sir Ahab slid into his armor, grabbed his blade, Elmine, and shield, and began to make his way up the beach towards the nearby town; where he hoped to find the last Councillor.

As he entered the town Ahab was struck by the emptiness of the streets; normally even this late at night there was someone out, here, tonight; however there was no one to be seen, not even a guard.

[The Gank Federation]

Nogard approached the villige, on foot, with a small pack of food on his back that he stole, and noticed the human walking into the villige. "looks like im not the only one looking for a place to stay." he muttered.
He just traveld a long ways, from a small battle with a few undead. He didn't want to stay outside, so he figured he should stay inside a house somewhere. "I hate undead." he agained muttered. he knew nothing of what was going on in this country, only that undead were in it. "a place that i won't be living in, thats for sure." he muttered a third time to himself. He then entered the town, only to find deserted streets. "odd" he said

[Asuaw]

On the shore, a small rowboat pulled up. The man rowing, a strong seaman who had long learned to take money and not ask questions, looked around nervously. He was seriously regretting taking this job. Sure, the passenger had paid well, but the dead, or possibly undead, had no use for money. He had no intention of becoming either. He glanced in the back of the boat at his passenger. He wasn't sure what spooked him more, the danger or the passenger. At first he had simply thought him to be a fugitive or criminal of some kind looking for shelter on this island, but as they had traveled, he had begun to feel this man was something more. For one thing, he had no supplies aside from his money belt and his strange large book. And another thing, in the light, he almost seemed to be out of focus. Hazy. Perhaps it was just the sea and light playing tricks on him. The passenger got out of the boat and walked on shore. The rowman considered offering to pick him up again later, but decided it was too dangerous to remain here any longer. Besides, the passenger didn't seem concerned. He just kept on walking, never saying a word.
Solomon Fisk left the rowboat, fully aware he would have to find another way back. In truth, he did not really care. He knew some opportunity would present itself. Besides, he had a duty right now. Solomon had been a lazar for so long even he did not remember when it had all began. All he remembered was the destruction of his village, his botched resurection, his brief descent into madness, and waking up with this book, the book of "The Condemned." He served some higher power, one with which he had a very vague recollection of making a deal with, he wasn't sure who or what it was, only that it guided his existence and used him to help keep the balance between Life and Death. It gave him an intuition that drew him to places where he was to play a part in what was to come, and to people he was to destroy to keep the balance. He glanced at his book. It was filled with the names of the necromancers, dark sorcerers, and undead whose lives he had taken to ensure the balance. It acted as a seal, preventing those recorded inside from ever returning to the land of the living. Who would fill the next pages on this mission? Perhaps the evil vampire lords? Or someone else? How he longed for his own name to appear on those pages, signaling the end of his service. Perhaps it would be after this mission? After so many of them, he had stopped getting his hopes up. In fact, he had stopped feeling much of anything, especially regret or compassion for the ones he destroyed. Those he destroyed truly deserved it, everytime. The one feeling he still had regularly was compassion for the innocent caught up in the slaughter created by the evil and ambitious. Such as the people of this land.
Solomon stopped his musing, and walked to the village.

[F799]

As the knight made his way down the desolate empty streets looking for the address that was given to him on a small scrap of parchment, an address he had committed to memory, Sir Ahab became accutely aware of some oddity in life forces approaching. At his side, Elmine quivered ever so slightly, indicated the nearby presence of one who was not quite alive. Silently drawing his blade and readying his shield Ahab disappeared into the shadows of a crevice between two buildings, from here he could watch as the being would pass, for Ahab was quite nearby his destination, and any undead in the town were surely looking for it, prepared to strike if the need arose.

[The Gank Federation]

Nogard noticed how the human ducked into the shadows. "if he was going to kill me, he would need to to do better at hiding. then he slowly walked towereds the shadows and said, "i know your there human. no use hiding." then he noticed there was someone else coming towered the villige. This one looked almost undead. "hmmmm coincidence? i think not." he said, facing where he saw the human last.

[Asuaw]

Solomon Fisk walked on, oblivious to the possible danger. Nothing had so far suceeded in killing him yet, and it was doubtful that was going to change anytime soon.

[F799]

Sir Ahab stared at Nogard, and as the stranger turned to look at the approaching stranger, slipped away around the corner and out of sight. Quickly he made his way down the alleyway, until he made it to his destination, quietly knocking on the door, Ahab sheathed his blade.

[The Gank Federation]

Nogard could tell that he was visible to the stranger by insticts, and was slightly surprized when he did'nt do anything to show it. He decided to see if this human, or undeadwas friendly. "Friend or Foe?" he shouted, unsheathing his blade making it visible to the stranger.

[Asuaw]

Solomon seemed unimpressed with the display. He kept his head down, kept walking, and quietly said "That entirely depends on your answer to the same question." When he spoke, if you listened closely, you could hear a slight echo, as if he was quietly whispering the same words a second after he had said them. He did not stop, but continued towards his destination without out even a glance at the warrior.

[Capitalistliberals]

"Humans... I hate humans, their dispicable little race disgusts me, don't you see it? Can't you see your faults? Don't you understand my infinite perfection, my ability my mind my POWER!!! Why can't you just understand that you are here only to be ruled and killed?" Koren was muttering lightly as he held up a screaming woman in his hand holding her against the wall of what used to be her and her family's home. "I HATE HUMANS!" he crushed her neck and dropped the limp corpse to the ground "worthless, useless and stupid" he was muttering again.

That day, exactly three years after his accidental release from the lowest levels of hell, he had demolished an entire village for the sins of one man who dared to call him a monster. 112 mutilated corpses of men women and most frightfully children lie on the ground of what used to be a farming community. "disgusting and pathetic thats all you silly things are...". Koren a Demon Lord a poweful one at that was tired of wandering aimlessly, tired of pointless little squabbles, and tired of the lack of any challenge on this world. That was yesterday...

Today was different, Koren had heard a rumor, one that sounded interesting to him... a rumor that end the boredom he suffered for the last three long years. A rumor that in the east a new power was rising, a dark one, he had no real details, but he would go anyway as it seemed to strike fear into the hearts of these worthless pests, and so he moved for the first time in three years with an actual purpose in mind.

[The Gank Federation]

Nogard was impressed with the human's answer, since he hadn't ever heard anyone answer like that. He let the human go his way, for he thought he felt a slight chill when he spoke. That never happened before.

[North Avayu]

The Wanderer stepped out of the scrub of the forest. In the distance he could see the the roof ridges of a village protruding from the fog. He took a deep breath and took a smell at the air. It was the scent of death. The vampire lord had well done his cruel work. The Wanderer had roamed Velyr for some weeks now and had seen terrible things. Fields full of bodies and the ground soaked with blood. The ones which shouldn't walk on this earth walked freely. Still, it didn't touch this man's heart. He had seen too much for simple emotions like this. To him, not all of it was bad: It also meant that he could travel without meeting anybody for days. It was quiet and he hadn't heard the voice of any other human. Now it was time to meet with them again. It wasn't his choice. He had got message of the last councillor. Not directly, in fact, he was sure nobody would have invited him. But fate was calling and who was he to not follow it? This village was his destination. For now. He would reach it in a few hours. He grasped his stick firmly and blended in the fog again.

He reached the village. The streets were lifeless. Of course, in these days nobody would leave his house in a foggy night. He could smell the fear. Their dreams surely were plagued by the undead. Nobody would see him, and he was thankful for it. And even if they had seen him, he only would seem like an diffuse strange figure in the dark. His grey mantle was masking him well. His steps were nearly inaudible when he slowly walked down the street toward the coast. But he could hear voices. The rattling of armour. There was something that shouldn't be here. He walked on. His mind was focused. Now he would see what fate had prepared for him ...

[Asuaw]

Solomon Fisk walked on, slighlty relieved that the warrior had not chosen to attack. He finally reached his destination, the place where all the champions were being summoned. He walked up, and knocked.

[Autesia]

Vandyr, lost in his thoughts did not hear the rapping on the old wooden door, but he was jerked into the real world by Maryl's sudden motion beside him. She spun on her heel and darted to the back door of the dissused hall. She stopped in front of the door, staring hard at the pitted oak as if she could see the person on the other side. She sighed and swung open the door, revealing a battle-hardened man in gleaming mail. This was a warrior, a true warrior, not some drunken mercenary in rusted iron armour. This was what they had been looking for.
"I assume you have come lookin for Councillor Myleine?"

Another knock, this time at the larger front doors, Vandyr was ready for this one, he looked up from the table and at the studded wood doors. He considered some form of defence, but the undead wouldn't knock. He lifted a spindly arm and pointed it at the door.
"Enter," he called. on his words the doors swung open. The reasons for the magic were twofold,firstly, given the circumstances, a certain display of power and theatrics was required, secondly, it was late, and he was tired. He looked up at the gaping mouth of night. The first sense with which he registered the newcomer was sight- earily lit up by the candlelight was a grey figure in aged robes and a wide-brimmed hat. Next his mage's senses kicked in. The figure seemed to hum with maigccal enegy of the darkest sort. This man should not be living, that much was certain. Vandyr rose from his chair,
"State your business here, dead-walker" he growled.

OOC: F799, I'm assuming this is the address Sir Ahab is at, or is it a contact?

[Asuaw]

"State your business here, dead-walker" he growled.

"My name is Solomon. The evil curse that is the vampire lords threatens not only the remnants of this country, but the balance between life and death. It is my duty to assist in restoring this balance by destroying them. So, I humbly offer my services to you."

[F799]

OOC: F799, I'm assuming this is the address Sir Ahab is at, or is it a contact?

OOC: You would be correct

IC:

sighed and swung open the door, revealing a battle-hardened man in gleaming mail. This was a warrior, a true warrior, not some drunken mercenary in rusted iron armour. This was what they had been looking for.
"I assume you have come lookin for Councillor Myleine?"

"Aye, that I have M'lday, that I have" responded Sir Ahab as he stepped inside out of the chill of the night. "Ahh, Councillor," Sir Ahab began noticing Vandyr sitting at the table. But before he could continue there was a rucus at the front door and in walked an undead being, quickly unsheathing his sword Sir Ahab lept to place himself between Maryl and the creature.

"State your business here, dead-walker" he growled.

"My name is Solomon. The evil curse that is the vampire lords threatens not only the remnants of this country, but the balance between life and death. It is my duty to assist in restoring this balance by destroying them. So, I humbly offer my services to you."

"You are the one that threatens, nay destroys the balance between life and death!" growled Ahab, Elmine in his left hand, and shield held protectively between him and the undead creature. "The only reason you would seek to destroy your masters, would be so that you could usurp their power. Or you are a filthy liar. Either of which I have no use for. You have a choice, either remove yourself from this humble structure or allow my blade to assist you!" without taking his eyes off Solomon's chest, reading evey subtle movement prepared to strike should the undead being make any threatening moves, Ahab spoke to the other two in the room, "If you two will excuse us, I believe I have a dance to commence with this unholy creature, ensure that your charge remains safe, I shall join you shortly."
With that Ahab settled into a defensive stance, ready for whatever the creature threw at him.

OOC: As Ahab's family has a long history of dealing with the undead, Ahab has been taught that all undead are inherently evil, and as such not to be trusted.-thought it might add a bit of a twist if two of the good guys weren't the best of friends.
Asuaw, please don't kill me, this is just to set up some animosity between our two characters

[Old Tyrannia]

In the bloodsoaked halls of the council chambers, the new ruler of Velyr, Vladimir Von Dracor, sat upon his throne. He smiled as a young man was thrust before him by a pair of burly werewolves.
"This man was found conspiring against us, my lord," hissed the first beast.
"He should be executed for his crimes," added the second, eagerly.
Vladimir sighed.
"But should he really? What has he done to deserve such harsh treatment? He is young, and foolish. His death will cause little joy for me."
Standing up, he walked over to the man, and promptly broke his neck.
"Still, the foolish are of little use to me. What of the councillor?"
"The escaped one, noble lord? We have found no trace. But we are searching," the werewolf added hurridly.
"I am sure you are. But looking is not good enough."
Reaching out, he grasped the werewolf general by the throat, and lunged forth, tearing it out. He then let the body fall limp to the ground. Wiping his mouth, he turned to the second werewolf.
"Congragulations, you have just been promoted. See to it that our elusive councillor is routed out and... disposed of."
He looked down at the two carcasses at his feet.
"Oh, and will someone please clean this mess up?"

[Autesia]

Vandyr listened to the newcomer's echoing voice. He remained silent for a moment.
"I really have few options but to trust you, and I'm sure if you had meant me harm, you would have attempted to do so by now... ou are correct, of course, many things are threatened by the Von Dracors. You are not a lich, not a ghost, clearly not a zombie, and not a vampire. I wonder..." he shook himself, this was irrelevant. "Please take a seat."

[North Avayu]

He had just come around a corner when he saw a man in shining armour entering a building. If he hadn't known the place yet, so he would now. Now that was the last hide of the councillor. A sad place for such a proud man. Surely they wouldn't expect someone as shabby as him here, especially not this knight and lord that just entered.
He walked up to the door. Indoors he heard heated voices. Always the same, where ever people come together, there is anger. It was sad. The higher one was, the more this rule applied. He was certain one of the voices belonged to the knight. But there was also a strange scent. The one that didn't belong here, one that didn't belong to a living creature.
He used his stick to knock heavily, three times, every single one sounding through the oak door like the beat of an hammer. He kept his head down, the face in the shadow of his hood, and awaited to be let in.

[Autesia]

OOC: sorry, i started that post before i realised you'd replied, just ignore it.

IC:
Vandyr rose swiftly from the chair, mustering a cloud of his former office.
"Please, sir lower your sword" he commanded, his voice booming through the hall as he gestured at the knight, "prejudgement is an unfortunate quality in any situation, this... thing.. has yrt to attempt to harm us, if it wished us dead, it would have made it's move by now. Please be seated, every one. You, dead-walker, speak, explain yourself, you cannot expect much trust among the living. Tell us about yourself, or as much as you know your self" He remained standing for a moment, glaring around him, then lowered himself back into his seat. But no sooner had he reached the seat than three more booming earthy knocks sounded through the room. He looked to the back door, but Maryl was headed there already. For the second time, she swung it open, this time revealing a very different figure, he was draped in an aged travellinng cloak and carried a knobled stick. She didn't feel she needed to ask te question.
"Come in," she said, eyeing the mysterious man.

[North Avayu]

The Wanderer entered without a word. His face was still pointed to the ground and hidden, but all the same he eyed the strange woman opening the door. If she had seen his face, she wouldn't have noticed any muscle there moving. He was used to see the strange.
Without haste he moved into the room. He raised his head a bit, just so he could watch the situation in the room. At the table there was the councillor in his long robe. He certainly had seen better days and it was clear that he didn't feel comfortable in this cold stony hall. More so, at the moment, he wasn't in control of the thing going on.
The two men in front of him were the actors on this stage. The first one was, as expected, the knight. All angry and ready with his sword in the hand, just as a noble like him had to be.
The second one was much more interesting. Wearing old robes and a hat, he couldn't see much of both his face and figure. But something was wrong about him. It wasn't the big book in his arms. Something around him, like an aura, but not bright and shining. In the light of the candle on the table, a haze was wafting around him. Much more could he find out using his keen nose. It was, again, the smell of death. But not like the rotting smell of the walking dead, more subtle and without the anger and hate. There was some hope in it, something he had never smelled at an undead before.
Now wasn't the wayfaring man's part to act. He leaned on his stick and, without even introducing himself to the people in the room, intended to watch on.

[Asuaw]

"You wish for me to explain myself? Very well." he said as he took a seat, being careful to stay away from the angry man in armor. "I was a farmer in a small village, so long ago I can't remember when it was. I led a peaceful life, had a wife, two sons and a daughter. One day a power hungry lich came to our village. We tried to defend ourselves, but fell to his onslaught of minions. For each one of us that fell, he raised a new minion. I hid my family in our house, and rigged several traps. I stopped them for a time, but their numbers won out. However, my ingenuity, stubborness, passion impressed the lich. He chose to have me as a lieutenant in his new army. This meant that he would bind my soul to my corpse, instead of simply using magic to animate it. But first, he made me watch as my family was butchered, one by one, in front of me. He then killed me. However, when he resurrected me, something went wrong. I have studied the necromantic arts, and have discovered that on the rare occasion, the binding of a soul to a body goes only halfway, resulting in me, a lazar. A lazar serves no master, is in unimaginable pain, and only seeks to destroy the one who created it. When he realized his mistake, he threw every minion he had at me, but like all lazar, I possess the ability to dismiss and disrupt the energy animating the undead, as well as being extremely hard to kill. I destroyed every single minion, including the raised remnants of my beloved family, until I finally reached him. I grabbed him, and banished his soul into the next world. When a lazar destroys its creator, its soul is supposed to separate from the body and move on. However, something different happened to me. I remember little, except for some powerful being, an oath of some kind, and then I woke up, carrying this book I'm holding now, and entirely free of the pain that had driven me to madness. Now, I journey, following an intuition, given to me by the higher power im assuming, and where I am led, I help in restoring the balance between life and death by destroying the evil and power-hungry undead. Their names then appear in the book, which acts as a seal, barring them from ever returning to the world of the living. I journey in hope of fulfilling whatever oath I made, so that I can finally rest. I can only assume I was led here to assist in the destruction of these terrible vampire lords."

[The Gank Federation]

"ugg" Nogard said as he walked, trying to find something to lie down under in case of rain. He was tired, but noticed the undead human go into a house and watched, while the doors shut. "interesting." he thought, for if he thought he was undead, why would these people let one in a house? he walked over to the door, and banged loudly on it, for he wanted to know why. he banged on it much more forceful then he ment to, but he was tired. "i need to get some sleep." he groaned.

[F799]

still glaring at the undead Solomon, Sir Ahab slowly lowered his blade, not bothering to sheath it or allow it out of his hand, should the worst occur, as he thought it would. His shield arm lowered too, but his shield remained too in it's position. Ahab had seen to many people stabbed in the back by someone they thought was a friend. Nodding his greetings to the new arrivals, the knight retreated to a corner, where he could easily watch everyone in the room, while keeping one eye on the front door, via a small crack in the window's shutter.
suddenly there came thundeing knocks from the front door, looking to the councillor Ahab stated simply, "It would appear that a dark warrior awaits upon your step."