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 Turning a Stray to a Cause {GMs & AGMs of Maxim} 
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Stablehand
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<ooc:>ok, sorry, my bad. Actually, basic blackpowder weapons were used well back into the middleages, though they were as dangerous to their users as to their targets, but rules are rules.*nods* Dunno how i'm gonna put silver shots in vampires now though - dun think throwing the damned things'd work.</ooc>

The wind whipped up around them, and Karhedron was forced to release his talisman in order to stop his wide-brimmed hat from blowing off. The creature below was an arrogant one indeed, considering she was so alone and in such a precarious situation. But Karhedron was not a complete fool. he knew such arrogance was only born of those of truly fearful power.

The second set of fangs was an interesting development...Now he had no idea what type of creature he was facing. A Mahriel had she said?... yes, that would make sense, according to the visionary this was 'the mahriel's place'... But what in the name of Darden was a Mahriel? Elves, Dwarves, Elementals, Droben, Undead, Greenskins, Skaven, Mutants, even Demons. All of the unclean races that he had thought existed in maxim he had met. And had slain... now however he was in a very awkward situation... And his men felt it too.

Briefly glancing to those he could see, they were obviously uneasy. As the creature - 'Ray Ayafel?' - ranted and raved, the wind catching on her fetching garments, his men were slowly edging away from her, back into the night. A grunt next to him, as one of the battle brothers dropped to his knees, and the others grimaced as they attempted to continue to chant their prayer. This one small being was forcing back the divine power of eighteen monks of Darden without any sign of effort?!?!

"A-a-attack w-would be m-most unwise sire."

It was brother Herbert. In all the turmoil and shouting, the archive monk had snuck up to the ridge edge and now stood shaking next to his Lord.

"If, urm, if the archive's reports on the Mahriel are true, um, s-sire, it took entire armies to bring down small numbers of their race. V-very powerful... they are... umm..."

Keeping his eyes and crossbow trained on the creature below, he answered as quietly as possible through the side of his mouth.

"And why in holy Darden's name was i not informed of this??"

He knew that the priesthood often held information back from him, but information as possibly life saving as that?! Some priests would quickly find themselves heretics when he returned to Hirudo... if he returned...

"Well... C-cos they're extinct... Sire... OH MY!"

The wind dropped to nothing.

Huh?! This was all to much thinking. Too much stalling... and what the hell was that creature doing naked?!

He could not stop himself from staring. His eyes glazed temporarily as he admired her in all her dark naked beauty. At least one of his hunters lowered their weapon entirely in awe of her tense female figure, so feminine and yet slightly bestial at the same time. He shook himself physically and returned to the task at hand.

Another two of the brothers next to him dropped to their knees, and the one already on them collapsed to the floor. If this is what whatever dark force was doing to these brothers, he didn't want to know what state the rest of his priests were in!

Perhaps she was right. He had been... rude... and abrubt. Slowly, he lowered his crossbow and placed it on the ground next to him... he still had his rapier and all his men's bows. Stepping to the edge of the ridge, he peered over, judged the distance to the bottom... then jumped.

Briefly his cloak flared up above him revealing the crimson plate armour beneath, before he hit the floor in a squatted position, and his cape covered him up once more - only his head and hat sitting above the black covering. His eyes, visible between the rim of his hat and the scarf that covered his face attempted to return the creatures stare, but even he, cleanser of all that was un-pure, could not return that kind of malice.

He stood, slowly, meaningfully. He looked to his men around him... if they fired now they risked hitting him too... He breathed deeply, then spoke.

"I am..."

My, she was beautiful

"I am Prince Karhedron San'Guin of the house of San'Guin, ruler of the San'Guin State, Arch-Hunter-General of the Witch Hunters Guild, Defender of the Faith of Darden and divine emissary of his Church. These men are the holy warriors and priests of the same church. We are here on a holy... mission. A vision granted to us by holy Darden himself sent us here to find something... or someone. Mayhaps you, Lady Ay-ya-fel would be able to help us, for we do not even know what it is that we seek. Those men, who were here previously... They seemed to be showing alot of interest in you or something you have? Obviously, it would be worth your while helping us..."

His laugh was brief and quiet, but his confidence was returning...

"...It'd be worth your life."

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Thu Mar 06, 2003 1:18 am
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Malphalis watched gingerly over the landscape as his eyes panned over its purity. He scanned the landscape with a watchful eye. It had been sometime since, he had ventured the land, since the destruction of his home, the University of Agrippa. He was a man of knowledge, a teacher at one point turned to a world of death, after he had spent many years cleaning the death from the former grounds of his home, and giving them a proper burial. Much had changed in his life, and now it was his time to stand among the few, and lead the followers of faith, to a just world. He took a deep nasal breath of the crisp air.

"It has been too much time since I had done this...A walk will do me some good..." he thought to himself.

Taking up his long walking staff, Malphalis walked amongst the hills of the land, a cry of happiness welled inside of him, for much of his life was ruined in the shame of cleaning the mess made by others, whether it was of his student, or of the warring kingdoms, he was cast into despondency for this matter. Taking a free hand he scrubbed it though his short cropped hair, then he tugged at his long white cloak with a bit of discomfort. Much had changed in him in this long time and he had, to adjust the sudden changed much so.

"These feels kinda, uncomfortable, but that is always with new clothes..." he thought to himself.

He casually walked through the long grass as he drank the beauty of the landscape. He had made sure he had walked alone, to just have the peace of one voice, or at least one external voice. He had many voices that spoke to him in his mind, each carrying a different idea, but yet each voice sought to balance the other, each gave the different consequences of an action, and Malphalis listened to them all before making a decision, but he always made the decision by himself. In the near distance, he could hear some noise, although he wasn't too sure about what was in the distance. It sounded like voices, but he wasn't totally sure.

"What is that?" he asked the question to himself.

Dropping his long walking staff he crested the next hill, only to see a very odd sight. That's when his mind began to talk.

"You should have brought a weapon, I told you..." one said.

"But you needn't not a weapon as of now..." another responded.

"You have some skill, destroy them all..." the one said.

"You need patience at this moment...Wait and it will all be answered" then the other responded.

With that last mental comment, the voices went silent. Turning he walked back and picked up his long walking staff, and crested the hill and continued walking towards the scene that looked like a confrontation, between a group of priests and an odd creature that seemed increasingly hostile.

"Maybe if I get there quickly I can help the situation... he thought to himself.

Soon he came closer to the situation to see it entirely, coming down to rest a seemingly long distance away from the being, but just enough that he could see the priests, and he was right, these priests were have a confrontation, with a creature, but this odd creature had feminine qualities, as was for some reason naked.

"What are they doing to that woman? This bunch of depraved priests. Carnal Starved Priests..." he thought to himself.

He turned around, slowly and carefully maneuvered towards the circle of priests.

"What are you doing to that woman? Are you men of Holy Order, or a Bunch of Carnal Depraved Priests?" he yelled to the man who seemed to be the leader.

Then one of the voices in his head spoke.

"You are doing something stupid...You should never interfere in the matters of others...Damn your Nobility, Chivalry is just another word for stupidity..." it said.

Then the other Responded.

"No it's not..."

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[center]"Don’t worry about the future or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation, by chewing bubblegum."
Eternal Templar of SOLAR[/center]


Thu Mar 06, 2003 7:42 am
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The veil of darkness drifted swiftly away, leaving her behind, fully clothed and drenched in sweat. She raised her eyes to meet his, and the malignant force behind it had increased thircefold.

"I do not owe you explanation here nor anywhere else, nor will I ever."

She waved her hand airily towards the others that surrounded her.

"And yes, you may very well kill me on this spot - but I will surely take your life and that of a good half of you before my body crashes cold to the ground."

She did not smirk at the audacious display of arrogance that this man held. She merely sighed slgihtly, and turned her back on him.

"Well, then...I can tell you this much...and that is that there is nothing here that you could possibly seek. This is the land of a people dead for nigh unto three thousand years. Killed by your ancestors because of their lust for power, money, and land."

She turned on him then, quite suddenly, and gripped him by the collor of his clothes, and lifted him easily into the air with her left arm.

"Yes. Your ancestors killed my parents and everything I knew. Perhaps I am waht interests those bastards who claim to follow a false god. You see, I have just woken up from a very long, nice catnap. And it seems that all the beggars upon this island seek to find either new blood to send into the slaughterhouse, or merely seek to finish the work they started years ago. Now....why are you here!"

She glared fiercly into his eyes, clearly becomign angrier by the second...

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Thu Mar 06, 2003 10:16 pm
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If he was not already treading lightly, the shriek made it so that his hooves moved with the gentle grace of a springtime breeze. Seldom had the big centaur heard half as chilling a sound, and Rory’s life had lead him to be in company with Demons and Banshee’s alike. The denizens of the area sensed the imminence of doom as well; every manner of creature made haste in the opposite direction. Even the little foxes looked up at their friend with quizzical expressions, clearly wondering if they dared to continue the journey. Not daring to speak, he made motion for them to stay alert and quiet but to indeed venture toward the sound.

“Moonlight and pestilence!” Rory swore softly under his breath. “There do be at least five dozen Hunters!” He had been only close enough to catch snippets of the conversation: “spineless oafs of the overworld”, “you’d rather not gamble”, “Prince Karhedron of house..” “a bunch of Carnal depraved priests.”

The scene below him moved unfolded in slow motion as pieces of information began to neatly dovetail in his mind. “Soulless” Mahriel, “overworld”, “Excorsision”—he was not a religious being, but he knew whent eh sign of vengeance was at hand. Kaz’s Demon was fury incarnate, but this woman wore her naked flesh as the merest cloak on a fury its twin. It was likely that a payment was due for the atrocities of Mahriel Genocide, just as Niurin sought his pound of flesh from those who had forsaken Intop. For the thousandth time, the gentle centaur wished he could back away and remain in the cover of shadows while such a blind fury was unleashed on the world, and for the thousandth time he knew that such a fury unchecked would mean the unmaking of that world. He was no hero such as he would sing praises of children or tales of bravery to the ladies at a party, yet he was here and those heroes were not..

“Now be the time you do need go, me beautiful, loyal friends.” He told the foxes, as he gently stroked their faces and slipped a folded page of the book into the pouch that one of them bore. The page was the one with the mentioning of the Mahriel, and had notes penned in the centaur’s clean crisp hand. “Kaz be needin’ this, and if things no be good here, he do be all that stands between forces that’ll be tearin’ the world asunder. Be swift and silent, me lads.” Pausing only to nip affenctionately at the big centaur’s sausage-like fingers, the two scurried off into the darkness as if they had a demon’s fire a hairsbreadth from their tails.

The palomino centaur turned from the foxes’ departure, and brought out his crystal flute. Loud and true, the high-pitched note rang out in the night. “Soulless Mahriel!” he sang out in the chanting voice he used when projecting to a vast audience. “I do be a gambler.. one t’understand Fury such as be burnin’ in bowels o’ Demonic Hell for ages upon ages upon ages. Let us be leavin’ these other ‘overworlders’ to be playin’ at rulin’ what they cannot begin to be appreciatin’. There do be fires that be burnin’ in this world an a place were the earth itself do be liquid rage.. Let us be dancin’ together there—gambler and warrior, centaur and demon-dragon.. a dance with death and nary a step without but destruction be underfoot.” The centaur played a tune of rage and fury, of loss with a counterpoint of retribution, and hoped that he could grab the attention of the creature and allow at least some of the others time for egress. But, much more than that, he hoped he could buy time for his message to reach Kaz, no matter the price.

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Life is as you perceive it to be


Sat Mar 08, 2003 9:52 pm
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Within moment's of the beast-women siezing him more than a dozen crossbow bolts were within inches of her back as Karhedron's hunters moved in close and targetted their bows at her heart from behind.
The 'Lady's' words were spat from her mouth and her rage was such that she didn't even seem to notice Karhedron's rapier resting against her neck.

The speed of her movement had shocked him, and for a moment his confidence slipped.

"P-perhaps you're r-right... we have nothing to find here..."

Beneath his cloak his plate armour dug into his neck and his voice came out weak and croaky. The world was suddenly full of movement - his hunters were right behind her, crossbows trained on her but unable to fire for fear of hitting their General. And there was a voice, over to the right of him. He glanced briefly as he tried to loosen the Mahriel's grip. Some raving idiot had suddenly appeared and was blurting out some insane babble - none of which he heard though as the roar of his own rage filled his ears and he regained his confidence.

"Now release me, heretic hell-spawn of the earth, for if you push my anger any further I will be happy to die just to join Darden in the knowledge that your foul impudence, and that of your race, is removed from this world with me!"

He pushed his Rapier slightly harder against her throat and a thin trickle of her dark blood ran down it, when all of a sudden a voice did enter his ears, and a sweet music filled the area. His rage began to ebb from his mind as the tune took it's place, but still he stared resolutely back at his assailant.

This was turning out to be a most eventful hunt.

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Sun Mar 09, 2003 6:31 am
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"Just Relax"

Niurins psyche slowly uncoiled like willowing wisps of dawntime fog, tenticles of his awareness probed the inside of Kaz's mind and poured through miniscule gaps in the walls that surrounded the elfs mind. Slowly the sensation of feeling spread along Niurin's newly aquired fingers, the pleasure of feeling the breeze against skin, and light reflected onto the retina of his eyes almost caused him to weep. It had been too long since he had fully worn mortal flesh, too long since he had felt any sensation of pain or pleasure, too long since he had breathed. Inhaling a deep draft of fresh air into his new lungs he took his first steps in thousands of years.

A bronze-guilded looking glass hung from the wall beside him, and he turned to examine his form. He was much younger than he had been when last looked upon himself, his ears swept upwards into a slight point betraying Kaz's elven heritage, his cheek bones less chisseled than the face he had once worn. Squeezing his hand tightly he felt the surge of blood as the musscles swelled and tensed, then the tingle as he released his vice-like grip on the air. Life was his again and sweeter than it had ever been.

Finally Niurin had control over Kaz's conscious mind and he allowed his awareness to fully consider the mind of his host. Power of a vast magnitude lay pooled behind walls that his host had been too weak, or too scared to tear down. Power that he could use with his new flesh. Ignoring the screams of anguish from the silent voice of Kaz now trapped within his own flesh, Niurin tore down walls of repression that had stood for ages. Memories of a castle filled with flames and the feeling of living the deaths of thousands of people flooded his awareness, and was discarded as the irrelevent memories of another.

Reaching for the powers that had lain dormant for years, Niurin quested, his spirit searching for the mind of Rorsach, his Echo of Peace or the smaller but pure minds of his fennik foxes. Seconds passed in his search until he located the foxes, travelling swiftly towards the Mountain range of The Cult. Reaching through space towards the signals echoing from their minds he tore a gateway from the chamber. Flames lefpt into his eyes as he stepped through to the other side.

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Sun Mar 09, 2003 5:44 pm
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Those crison eyes, held mere inches away from the face of the interlopper, widened in anger, even as she began to shake.

"Heretic? Hellspawn? Die!"

She hurled the man out of her grip a distance of two bodylengths, where he crashed to the ground. She could hear those behind her preparing to fire, and she rounded on them.

"Anger! You haven't seen anger, you filthy hellspawn. You desecrators of sacred lands - despoilers and looters. All of you...ALL OF YOU! Murderers!"

She lifted her hand high overhead, and the familiar grip of her warstaff materialized there. She touched the spot where blood, at first dark but brightening quickly in the cool night air, dribbled asa result of his rapier. She flourished the staff, casting it is a sweeping, scything motion in front and around her back. Hunters, bows cocked and swords at the ready, were hurled aside and backwards, thrown off of their feet only to crash to the feet in a vastly widened circle around the Mahriel magus. As they were hurled aside, some of them, allready begining to pull their triggers, launched arrows and bolts high overhead, all around, and the luckier ones directly at her. Three such missile flew high overhead - however, one found its mark, and half-dissappeared into her robes, and her flesh.

She shrieked her rage at them all, coming down heavy upon her stave, and raved a moment more, swearing and cursing them in the forgotten language.

Seconds passed, and allready some of the less intelligent hunters had gathered their wits together and were advancing. Though winded, she was not out for the count, though wounded, she was certainly not out of her league - yet.

"You come to my home - you treat me with little to no respect, no manners....nothing. And then you threaten me, and belittle me. If you desire-"

The first of the upright made their attempt, and she met his blade with her stave, parrying the blow, and, while his gaurd was lowered, driving the sharp steel spine at its base through the mans diaphram, before kicking him free of it. He tumbled down the hill a ways, rolling at last to a stop where he remained almost motionless, gasping for air that would not keep a hold in his lungs.

She rounded on Karhedron.

"If you desire a peaceful relation, then I suggest, no...I demand you call your flea ridden dogs off of me. You may not value your life, but -I- value your life, or at least that portion of it that will occupy the final thirty seconds of it. And my life is trivial. I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain."

She stalked over towards him, and held a beclawed hand out, offering it as the closest sign of peaceful intentions any would get from her.
Her other hand slipped beneath the robes, grippingthe shaft of the crossbow bolt and wrenching it free - she stiffled a cry of pain. Keeping that hand there, to alleviatre the bleeding some, she smirked down at the man laying upon the ground.

"You have your choice. You started this wrong, and I am not afraid to slay you and as many of your men as I can. Bring an end to it, else I will do it for you."

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Sun Mar 09, 2003 6:33 pm
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The blow as he had hit the ground had winded him - the strength of his own armour while saving him from any breakages, neglected of softness of the ground beneath... He would be heavily bruised by tomorrow... If he lived that long.

His vision was somewhat dazed, but after some shouts and screams and a flurry of blurred movement infront of him, the beast woman was stood above him, hand seemingly offered in peace.

He was confused... still dazed from being thrown. His senses suddenlt came online once more, and his head was quickly filled. The music continued, the idiot still babbled, his men were still behind the woman - who now appeared to be injured - but many were on the floor or rising from it.

He looked up at the creature, his hatred of it seemed to have rid it of it's beauty, and struggled a look of contempt from his still not fully functional eyes.

He squeezed the handle of his rapier preparing to swing... when suddenly he found it was no longer in his hand. As he had been thrown, it appeared the blade had caught somewhat in the creature's neck, loosening his grip on it so that he had dropped it upon impact with the ground.

shit.

He stared from the red eyes to the offered hand to the eyes once more... His Hunters - either realising the potential for a peaceful resolve or too unwilling to engage the creature again just yet, held back...

He had to make a choice....

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Fri Mar 14, 2003 6:59 am
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The boy sat atop the Rock staring into the darkness...no more than 13 winters old, yet aged far beyond his mortal years behind those glowing golden eyes.

Theo, they called him in the village...Theo No Name...son of a whore and a drunkard...both dead...a cinvienient story for when questioned in any detail, none could say for certain where or when the boy had appeared. The only certainty was that he quickly became the subject of the torment, jeers and ridicule of all who gazed upon him. No stranger to him was the sharp jab of a spur from a passing knight or the sting of a rock from the other village children, yet all these he endured...endured and flourished...flourished and thrived on the nectar of the "voices".


You are not born of them our son....yours is a deeper heritage...your calling is great, yet you must first suffer...suffer that you know the pain we knew in ages past...suffer that you may truly appreciate your birthright.

Know pain as your brother, our son...know misery as your loving sister. Death is a pardon and life, a horrible damnation. Despise life, child...relish in it's taking for that is your inheritance...blood, and death...seek out those who revel in the dealing of these...for only then will you find the only other of our kind who yet walks the upper realms...and only together with her can you bring about the apocalypse.

Mark and remember, our son, for this is your purpose...a purpose that shall not fail.


The boy watched the warbands and leaders come and go with mirth, knowing them for what they were...a means to an end...but in that end, nothing more than fodder for a presence too long dormant.

Rising from his stone, the boy reached for her in his minds eye....


Rei Aiafal, it is my time to suffer...It is our time to bring about what must be. Show me the way, my kinswoman.


Fri Mar 14, 2003 5:50 pm
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his song continued as he slowly picked his way toward the rage-filled woman. She evinced no reaction to the song, or evenan acknowledgement of the centaur's presence, but he persisted. The melodywas one of sorrow and loss tempered by desire for vengence and of beauty lost, but also fo new beauty born. Blaance was everything in life and Rory's melody contained all of that balance and the accompanying parity fo life. His own nature was stradled the lines of life and death-- green plants and livingthings blossomed easily under his care, yet those same hands dealt death just as easily.. and just as well.

Onward he pressed, nearer and nearer. His thoughts circling around the knowledge that unchecked chaos could bring down all that was beautifl in this world as well as al that was tainted. Balance must be achievedand if he could but buy time-- time for the world-- then that as what he must do. tears coursed like rivers down his cheeks at his own song and evey hoofprint the pig centaur made was dampened by their salty passage.

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Speak softly and carry The Big Flute
Echo of the TEN (AGM)
Life is as you perceive it to be


Sat Mar 22, 2003 11:58 am
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