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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2016 3:34:32 GMT
 | Dorian HP: 100% MP: 100% |
Take a look 'round lively old London; Buzzing crowds, we sweat and we revel. Red-cheeked shouts and songs In the flicker of the gas light.
"Failed." It echoed within his mind time and time again. "Failed." A familiar voice, one that had once seen hope within his eyes. "You... have failed." Colours began to blur and mesh, tiny pieces of hope fading out of existence until it was all just one big blast of white light; unable to see, unable to hear, unable to touch, he could only wait until the light faded. But when it did, it disappeared completely, and where once it was blindingly bright, the world became shadowed and dark, an empty void that almost brought him to scream; but alas, he had no voice, no way of calling for help. But would he? If he had the power, would he call for aid, even if it meant going against everything he once stood for? "You were to be the beacon, young Shaman, the light of hope. But even you have flickered away."And then, he was falling; plummeting through the dense emptiness of the ancient space with no stars or planets or galaxies... no life. He was alone, afraid, and helpless. "Could have done something," a new voice echoed, now within his own mind; was it his voice? No, he did not recognise it as such, but it was close, like seeing yourself through a damaged mirror. It was him, but... not him. "I don't know." That was all he could say, all he could muster; for truly, he was confused. What had he missed? Had something occurred which would have been averted through his help? His mind raced to recent events, but there were no memories left, no thoughts remaining to guide him. "This is your punishment." And with that, the darkness spread that tiny bit it had left, consuming his body completely.
"Gah!" Dorian awoke, startled and in a cold sweat, surrounded by familiar scents and visions of... his room. He was back in his room in the Infirmary. "Another nightmare," he muttered under his breath. Another day awoken by the horrors of his own mind. But this one was different, foreboding even. Something was wrong, and he had no idea what was happening. Extending his hand, he flicked his wrist, opening his interface in front of him, the light burning into his groggy and drowsy eyes. He flicked through the various tabs, checking his stats; no debuffs or anything else out of the ordinary. He glanced down at the feeble friend's list he had opened, blinking slowly as he lifted his hand up to scratch at his head. All this time he had spent adventuring, so many people he had met...And yet, evidence to the contrary, he only had two people he had actually managed to add onto his list of friends. Releasing a sigh, he hovered his digit over their names, glancing at the two similar button structures, particularly the one's that opened up telepathic links with the corresponding friend. But no, it was early morning - likely very early morning, considering how dark it still was - and he wasn't about to go and disturb them with his worries. Especially not the Sorceress; given recent events, she had enough on her plate without him pestering her every moment. Nodding his head, he turned to shuffle out of bed, flicking his inventory up from his interface and slipping on his Neourban Threads vanity gear. Flexing the hems of the jacket around his torso, he released yet another heavy sigh.Approaching the door, the Shaman made to grab for the handle, twisting it and pushing upon the wood to swing it open. As he went to step forward past the threshold, a sudden sense of exhaustion overcame his body, his reflexes only just managing to help dart his hand up, catching a supportive grip upon the frame and leaning against it to keep from toppling forward through the doorway and out into the hall. His breathing was now heavy, almost to the brink of panting, and beads of sweat were rolling down his face. "What just happened?" Was this an aftershock from the nightmare? No, it couldn't be, but something was definitely wrong; his body, his own aura... it felt broken, like something was missing. Reaching out for help, Dorian gave a gentle tap towards Skrowe within his mind. No answer came. Blinking repeatedly, Dorian tapped again, specifically knocking where the Shikigami enjoyed residing during the time of sleep; mentally, he could hear the sound of his own intrusion, but alas nothing was replied back. "Empty," he muttered under his breath, his eyes going wide as he began to realise the ramifications of being parted from his Shikigami. Skrowe was apart of him, a representation of his inner self, and while he could very well survive without a Shikigami, as a Shaman, he was reacting adversely to losing that connection with the spirit. His body weakened and exhausted, he wasn't about to go out adventuring any time soon. Mustering his strength, he managed to right himself and step out into the hallway completely, flicking his wrist towards his inventory. Equipping his gear underneath his vanity attire, he decked himself out in his usual; the Stratford Arms Leather Armour, it's aesthetic look replaced by that of the Neourban Threads, as well as the Stratford Arms Longsword he kept sheathed and latched upon his belt by his hip. Finally, he equipped the special crystal ball he had acquired during the Snowfell Festival, known as the Enchanted Snowglobe, a mesmerising translucent orb that seemingly contained the captured essence of falling snow, just as any snowglobe would. Running his hands over the smooth surface of the crystal, Dorian peered into the ball as he pushed out his mana through into the orb's material, causing it to glow for a few moments before levitating and floating within the air above his left shoulder. With his adventuring gear set up on his person, he swiftly made his way down the flight of stairs and out towards the front door, slipping through into the street outside. The air was somewhat cool, with the sun still having yet to appear upon the horizon, the dark of morning clearly vivid above him. "He's out here somewhere," he muttered to himself, but alas, he wasn't about to find him standing around doing nothing. The Shikigami couldn't have gotten far from him, so that just left Londinium itself to search; but, the city was large and expansive, and despite the hour, crowds of people had begun to form, no doubt trying to get the early morning deals from the stores and shops that dotted the streets. Rolling his shoulders slightly, he held his hand over the top end of his scabbard, tapping to make sure it was still there on his hip. As he slipped through the various crowds, echoing apologies to anyone who got in his way accidentally, he could feel the joy emanating from the various city goers; there was some sort of parade or party of some sort going on in one of the local taverns, and it had apparently began spreading through the town like wildfire. It almost brought a smile to Dorian's face, to see such happiness being passed along, but unfortunately, he was in to serious a predicament to join the revelries. "I need a better vantage point, but..." The Shaman could not see any sort of tall building in the near vicinity; with so much going on down on the streets, it was hard to tell what was going on above. Parting from one of the crowds, Dorian glanced upwards to spot a familiar landmark - the tower known as Big Ben. It was a lengthy trip that took him towards the enormous clock tower, which brought him along an unfamiliar street; glancing back and forth, his eyes caught a glimpse of a flicker within his peripheral vision. Turning to look, he noticed that only one of the gas lights along the side of the street had been left on, the light shaking wildly from the cold morning air. Emitting a curious hum, he moved towards the tall structure, picking out a silhouette dancing within the flames. His eyes went wide as he noticed the similar form of Skrowe, visible as a stark shadow within the gas light; only for him to disappear suddenly, replaced by a different silhouette. This one was still and unmoving, with it's formed eyes staring back at him; Dorian could have sworn it was a fox tail... Shaking his head, he darted down the rest of the street, making his way towards the tall tower of Big Ben that stood in the distance. He had never taken the time to climb the tower before, yet it had always been a wish of his to see the view from the very top. Now, under the circumstances, he doubted he would have time to enjoy the vista; perhaps, if he did not find any sign of the Shikigami from up high, he might be able to take the time to wait for the sun to rise from the horizon. He had been in search of a good spot to see the sun rise and fall, but had yet to gain a foothold in his quest. Perhaps there would be a silver lining to today.
Coded by @serenityspace of LH |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2016 7:56:25 GMT
| Dorian HP: 100% MP: 100% |
Eager Blighty bursts from the cobblestones; Racing, climbing, blooming fertility. Born from secret seeds That were scattered in the nighttime.
Reaching the base of Big Ben, Dorian looked up expectantly at the sheer height of it; it was taller than anything he had so far climbed to the top of, but it would be a nice challenge, if not a necessary one. Pushing through the door, he ducked down slightly, making sure his crystal ball would neatly hover beneath the low-hanging door frame. After all, it was a new item he had obtained, and he didn't want to lose it so quickly. Dusting himself off as he entered the bottom of the clock tower, he turned towards the stairs, starting the long climb up each flight, taking each step in stride to reach the top as quickly as humanly - or more accurately, ritually - as possible. With his speed buffed accessories, he was making flying progress upwards, though it was easy to see he was breaking a sweat. With each step he took up the staircase, his mind trailed off towards thoughts of what might happen; would he be able to continue on without a Shikigami? What would he do should he find Skrowe; I mean, it's not like there were bountiful tomes on how to re-link with a Shaman spirit, or even link in the first place. So even if he found another candidate to be his Shikigami, how would he go about fusing it to himself? These questions were best left until later; for now, his top priority should be searching for the chibi scarecrow. Where he could have gotten to, Dorian hadn't the faintest clue, but he hoped that with this new vantage point atop Big Ben, he'd be able to spy out some clue as to the Shikigami's whereabouts. He crossed his fingers - perhaps luck would be on his side. "Ah, here we are," the Shaman muttered under his breath, his voice slightly exasperated from the amount of climbing he had just accomplished. Moving towards the railing, he looked out over the side, his eyes going wide as he saw the vista before him. From here, he could see almost all of London, the city bustling and buzzing beneath him as morning slowly approached, the brief sparks of dawn beginning to glow upon the horizon. "Perhaps I could spare some time." Stepping back, the Shaman grabbed a hold of the railing and swivelled his legs over it, one by one, until he was sitting carefully atop of it. Holding his balance steady, he lifted his vision up to peer out over the city, watching as the sun gradually rose from over the top of the forested line in the distance. In a dazzling display of colour, the sky became vibrant in oranges and yellows and purples, the sun illuminating the world with it's radiant glow. This is what he had been looking for, this is what he needed. Peace, quiet, and an astonishing view; he rummaged into his jacket lining, pulling from the inside pocket a well-kept and polished leather bound notebook, the one he had crafted for himself. From within the linings, he retrieved his pen, The Blaze, a Quill Pen fit for a Scribe; at least, of his level. Flipping to the next vacant page in his book, he began to scribble upon it lightly, sketching out the view he was perceiving from his newly found perch. The sun, the city below, every minute detail he attempted to fill out across the two pages until he had a decent rendition of it jotted down. Fitting the pen back into the book and closing it's covers together, Dorian stashed his scribbles back into his inner jacket pocket, gently ruffling the linings of his coat to make it sit comfortably on his shoulders. Gripping his hands onto the railing either side of him, he sat for a few extra moments, releasing a content sigh as he watched the sun float higher up into the sky, it's luminous rays glinting off of the crystal ball hovering beside his shoulder. Glancing down once again at the city below, he flipped himself back over the railing to safely stand behind it, beginning his pacing around the perimeter of the tower to scan the horizon and the bustling crowds below for any sign of a Shikigami whizzing by or causing mischief. Alas, after a few long studied moments, there was no sign of him. "Where could he have gotten to...?" Just as he had released words from his mouth, a glint of the sun off of his crystal ball directed his gaze towards a particularly nondescript alley near the base of the tower. Leaning over the railing to get a better look, Dorian began to squint as he picked out bits and pieces of movement within the darkened alleyway. Peering closer, he was able to spot several similarly dressed silhouettes, each glancing around the area with shady expressions as they moved towards a grate within the floor; and then, after removing the grate and sliding it to one side, they began darting down into it's depths, one by one disappearing into the shadows. As the last one descended, he grabbed the grating behind him, sliding it back into place, and just like that, they were gone. Stepping back from the railing, the Shaman mulled over what he had just witnessed, blinking slowly as his mind went racing. From the looks of them, they could have been some sort of gang or, perhaps a more sinister criminal organisation. Fearful for the ramifications of his involvement, having witnessed what could possibly be an escape from punishment, Dorian decided to postpone his search for the time being. Skrowe might be mischievous, but he'd understand bringing criminals to answer for their misdeeds. Turning towards the stairs once again, Dorian began the swift climb back down, his feet tapping relentlessly upon each step as he descended towards the base floor of the tower. Practically bursting out from the door he had entered in earlier, not worrying for his crystal ball, his eyes darted back and forth to try and discern which alley he had been looking at; unfortunately, most of the streets and shortcuts within Londinium were almost identical, and that meant it was hard to pick out specific ones, especially without the convenience of street signs. Rushing towards the other end of the street, he closed his eyes to concentrate on the aura of the city itself, his conscious mind directing him towards the nearby alley. Darting over to it and slipping into the shadows himself, he quickly spied the familiar grate that the shady characters had descended beneath. Turning to look over his shoulder, he made sure nobody else was watching. "Coast is clear," he muttered to himself, keeping his voice at a low whisper so as not to alert anyone's attention towards him and what he was about to do. Crouching down beside the grating, he pried his fingers into the various slats, giving a yank and a heave to pull it out of the socket it was implanted within, uncovering the darkened hole that led to places unknown. Given the setting and the situation, Dorian quickly jumped to the conclusion that this was a sewer entrance, though he had never heard of there being a sewer underneath the city before; alas, this of course made it a perfect hiding spot for would be criminals to hide in once the deed was done. Shaking his head, he placed the grating down on the ground beside the hole, dusting his hands off as he lowered himself in carefully and attached his limbs to the ladder rungs. Lowering himself down a few rungs, he reached his arms out over the top of the hole, grabbing a hold of the same grate he had just pried open. Using the strength of his legs to keep his balance, he moved further down the ladder, keeping his eyes up as he repositioned the grate back into it's corresponding spot above him; this, of course, plunged himself and the area below into semi-darkness. Gripping onto the ladder tightly, he descended further and further, slowly taking each rung until he felt his foot touch down on solid ground. Stepping off the climbing apparatus, he swivelled himself around, finding himself in just the place he had predicted for himself earlier; luckily, he had found himself on one of the sides, the side-walk as it were. The sewers were at least well made, for better or worse. But, his lack of vision was a weakness here, as was evidenced by the sudden sound of blades being scraped out of their scabbard. With what little light was pouring in now through the slats above, the rays of luminescence seemed to glint off the numerous swords that were now hastily pointed in his direction. "Halt," a voice spoke, undoubtedly coming from behind one of the blades now directed at Dorian's throat. Swallowing hard, he raised his hands up into the air out of instinct, not bothering to fight in this situation; at least not before learning of these people's intents, or at least what level the threat was. After all, it was highly possible these were the good guys, or in the worst case scenario - where they are the bad guys - they may be low enough level to overpower.
Coded by @serenityspace of LH |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2016 5:22:16 GMT
| Dorian HP: 100% MP: 90% |
London is fed upon the meat of the dead, They're one shallow inch below the town. Underground, Underground, Leave them underground.
"State your name, loud and clear, and make no sudden movements," the voice demanded, the darkness of the sewers still shrouding the figures that surrounded him from sight; furthermore, the echo that rebounded off the stone curved walls made it impossible to discern which silhouette was speaking. "Dorian," the Shaman said simply, not wanting to risk any complications with a group of men training their swords on his person. He had died once already, he had no inclinations towards doing so again. Thankfully, after much shuffling and quiet whispers shared between the group, they seemed to nod through the darkness, most of them splitting apart to form two lines either side of him. At the end of it, stood to one side, was a larger silhouette, undoubtedly the source of the voice. "You will follow our directions and do exactly as we say," the intimidating figure bellowed, stepping to one side to point in the direction the two lines had formed towards, indicating he was to head in that direction. "Try anything funny and with one snap of my fingers each and every one of these gentlemen will skewer you with so many holes, you won't know which one to piss out of." Charming, this one. Ruffling his shoulders and slowly lowering his hands to his sides, he gave a silent nod to the group, before stepping forward, his footsteps echoing upon the stonework just as the man's voice did; and with that, he began to walk, heading in the direction he had been given. Let it never be said that the Shaman was not co-operative to those who may or may not be in need. The sewers, as should be expected, lingered with ripe stenches that seemed to burn one's nostrils; foul air was a staple for many a city's sewers, especially in fantasy games. Dorian half expected to find some sort of mutated, overgrown sludge monster that lay dwelling within the deeper parts of the sewers. But perhaps, here in this new world, there were darker things that claimed the tunnels beneath Londinium as their home. Even so, as the group of shadowy figures led him further into the sewer labyrinth, the Shaman couldn't help but feel that the tunnels here ran much deeper than they initially seemed to. Glancing at the water, Dorian began to formulate a way to get a better idea of what he was walking in to, but he'd need to be subtle about it. It would take a little longer to focus the ritual, given the fact that the sewer waters were long reaching, but thankfully the Shaman managed to flick his wrists and twiddle his fingers in such a way that, in the darkness, none would notice the change. Forming the mana through his body, he began to cast Holy Water Divination, concentrating the energies of the skill towards the somewhat dirtied waters of the sewer. The next minute and a half was a gruelling one, as the Shaman attempted - within his weakened state - to conjure up the ritual upon the surface of the water, whilst moving, and all the while doing so in a way that would not result in him being found out. Should any sort of distraction or interruption occur, he would lose the spell. Such was the price of focus.
"How much longer till we get there?" One of the shadowy figures, this one with a lighter voice, seemed to be growing irritated by the long period of time it had taken them to get this far, and the even greater time it would take for them to reach their destination; at least, that's what Dorian assumed. The Shaman's concentration was rather preoccupied at this point, having almost finished the last vestiges of the spell. He began blocking out the sounds of voices from around him, as annoyed conversations sprang up in unison. In a matter of a few seconds, the last bit of mana connected his aura with the waters, giving him an all new vision of the sewers. It was a lot of information to take in at first, so the Shaman took it in stride, moving from room to room, all the while still following the pack of shadows. "Brace yourselves boys, we're approaching The Feed." Dorian's brief look into the sewers was cut short by his own curiosity, his eyes returning to reality as he glanced around at the new area they had begun to step into. Here, the sewers opened up into a larger tunnel, with the only light source coming from various holes situated in the stonework above, which seemed to follow up into chutes that likely ran down from the surface, a few feet above them. "The Feed...?" The Shaman instantly regretted asking, as the burly silhouette ahead of him made a directional point towards the waters below. Unlike the rest of the waters, contaminated with excrement and other undesirable mentions, the bloodied pools and bits of flesh indicated a more gruesome source here. The leader of the group simply gave a disgusted grunt, glaring up at the chutes above as they walked past. "When the poor can't afford a morgue or a burial, this is where they end up. The Lander trash heap; and the city lives above this?" Dorian stared wide-eyed at the people around him, all of them seemingly staring at the ground dejectedly. "We call it The Feed; because as much as they love to see themselves as high and mighty, those rich bastards above us feed off this place." The man made a spitting noise, sending a glob of saliva splattering over the stone path. To live down here, walking past this abominable sight every day... The Shaman shook his head, refocusing on the waters not contaminated with Landers, and studying the sewers as best as he could before the inevitable confrontation ahead. As if on cue, they had travelled far enough in that their surroundings began to change; where it was once dull and dreary, the sewers seemed to come alive. The shadows and darkness were vanquished gradually through steadily placed gas lights, lit aflame every so often, tucked into whatever nooks available in the decrepit stone. With newly found vision, Dorian inspected the men and women around him. What he had thought were trained soldiers, he was in fact surrounded by dusted and dirt-covered Landers, with rags and shaggy cloth armours to protect them as much from their enemies as from the cold temperatures that no doubt dropped down in the dark. Even their leader, the burly man ahead of them, seemed to give off a grisly air of poverty and sorrow. "Where are we?" Dorian's question echoed somewhat, but despite the unwanted volume his voice had taken on, there were no more voices speaking out. The only sounds, as it were, came from the flicker of flames and the trickle of the sewer waters. As they headed even deeper in, small tents and camp fires sprung up as the tunnel seemed to widen out, cracked and opened to create a large space. Bits and pieces, odds and ends, nicks and knacks, all were strewn about and seemingly drawn in from places unknown; but as one would walk further, the objects came closer together, packing in tightly until the began to coalesce in a large mound at the far side of the newly made cavern in the sewers. And here, amongst the rabble, was a dusty, impoverished throne, with a woman sat atop it. The men and women around the Shaman dispersed, coming together in a small crowd behind him as he stepped up to the front of the mound of objects. "Kneel for the Queen of the Underground!" The burly man held his sword out towards Dorian once again, waiting for him to follow the order. But before the Shaman could act, the woman sat upon the throne stood up, waving her hand dismissively. "There is no need, Grolth; he is not a citizen of the Underground... And I do not suspect him one who would come to harm us." Getting a better look of the 'Queen', Dorian saw she too was dressed in cloth and rag, but somehow she seemed to be able to make it more regal in appearance, her step defying the very locale she walked upon, graceful despite her rather small stature. "So... Tell me, Shaman; what did your eyes see within our humble sewers? The waters here may not be the holiest, but they certainly give one more perspective, don't they?" Interesting. The only way she'd know such things is if she were a magic-user and familiar with Shamans, though it was easy to tell she was no Shaman herself. Could she be an Adventurer? But... no, that wouldn't make sense. Dorian's mind raced with ideas and contemplations as he tried to discern who this woman was, but he was quickly stopped in his tracks by a wave of her hand; somehow this girl - who by all appearances looked to be a young child - had the power to sway even him. "No doubt you are curious, but you need not think too hard. I am willing to tell you all you need to know, as long as you promise to listen to all I have to say."
Coded by @serenityspace of LH |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 24, 2016 8:13:05 GMT
| Dorian HP: 100% MP: 95% |
Them that whispered dreams that only poisoned us. Them that told us lies of their bravery. Them that preached of progress, And put us in the poorhouse.
Dorian remained silent for a long moment, his eyes holding the so-called Queen's own pair in a locked, competing stare. He could sense a gentle darkness within her body, almost akin to the throb of Miasma that he had grown familiar with during his adventures. This girl only came up to his chest when she stood properly, a sorry height that perhaps owed her towards the dwarf race. That, or she really was nothing less than a child. But, whatever she was, this Queen had answers that he needed in order to piece things together down here in the dark of the sewers. But could he trust someone who swayed the group around them so easily? For now he kept his doubts, before gently nodding his head towards the small female. "I will listen," he muttered, before falling silent to allow her room to speak. The small female was almost expressionless now, her mouth keeping a pursed, tiny shape that could not be compared to a smile nor a frown. She was calm, that was all he could deduce, and as she spoke, her tone of voice lent itself to a soft, almost whisper. "My name is Cordelia, though few here would utter it..." She gestured towards the men and women stood behind him in the crowd, all dressed in sooty rags and covered in dirt. "They, as you know doubt already noticed, have grown to call me Queen of the Underground." She held her arms outwards, small, short limbs that still managed to give off a gesture that encompassed the room. "This... is my Underground; a rag-tag bunch, I give you that, but they work hard when given a common cause, or a common enemy."With this mention, her face grew dark, her head hanging low as she continued. "We have not been around long, and we are likely unheard of in the world above. But we seek nothing more than to bring about change; you saw The Feed, yes? 'Tis only one of the gruesome ends that befall many of our Lander brethren who cannot make ends meet." Dorian turned to look over his shoulder at the crowd behind him; all of them were solemn in their expressions, a stark contrast to the calm and collected Cordelia, their sorrow quite evidenced upon their faces. Releasing a heavy sigh, the Shaman turned back to the Queen, bowing his head softly to indicate that she could continue, to which she simply nodded in return, lifting her head up for a short glance at her people. "Normally, our people work down here, taking what we can from the rich; cliché I know, but we care little for originality here. We care only that Landers all have a fair share at life. Unlike you Adventurers, our death is final, and that means we must strive to do better in our lives." The rabble behind them began to chant and cheer in unison, roaring their agreement to the Queen's powerful words; but, she quickly silenced them with another wave of her outstretched hand, before dropping both of her limbs to her sides, clenching her digits into fists as she tried her best to contain the emotion. "Normally, you say? What has changed?" The Shaman looked down at Cordelia as he posed his question, but it was not the Queen who answered him. "The Miasma Realms... that's what changed." The grizzled voice of Grolth, so-named by the Queen moments earlier, rang out in an echo through the sewer tunnels. Nodding her head, Cordelia focused her attention on the Shaman's eyes. "You saw it didn't you? Through your ritual upon the waters down here; while the Realms remain far from here, some of it's spawn has managed to find purchase down in the depths here. We know not how or why this has occurred..." Dorian raised his hand this time, silencing Cordelia as his mind thought back to an encounter he had chanced upon some time before. "I think I know what caused the Miasma to form here; though myself and a friend of mine already destroyed the source." He hoped that the Underground would trust him on this, for he had promised not to tell what had happened in that underground bunker. Cordelia looked to one side, before understandingly nodding her head to the Shaman. "That is good then; perhaps you can help us." She stepped forward, walking past him and pointing towards the tunnel that led back out into the sewers, the one he had entered the Underground camp through - though 'escorted to' would make more sense in current context. "Out in the sewers, there are various groupings of monstrosities left behind by the Miasma. Because of them, we have been unable to do our less-than-honest work on the surface, at least not as efficiently as we used to." She looked now towards her people, still crowded and huddled together, watching with anticipation. "Those we do not lose to the creatures, we lose to the Landers above and their iron shackles and chains. This cannot be allowed to continue."Releasing a huff, Cordelia turned back, striding as best as she could with her smaller pair of legs, positioning herself directly between Dorian and the crowd. "I bestow upon you, Adventurer and Shaman, a quest; go out and destroy whatever Miasma-tainted beasts you find. But watch for the fiercest one of all of them; the Sewer Night Wolf, as it has grown to call itself, it is savage in it's ferocity." Gesturing to Grolth, she pointed towards an equipment rack near the back of the cavern; Grolth quickly ran over, retrieving from the rack a basic Windsor Antiqua branded spear. No doubt it was a weapon that had been stolen by this Underground, and had been turned into the Queen's makeshift royal weapon. Rushing back to Cordelia, Grolth handed her the spear, which she took in her right hand.
"Will you take this quest, Dorian?" The Shaman blinked at hearing his name, not remembering having revealed it to the Queen, but shrugged off this fact for the more important detail. "I do," he muttered in reply, bowing his head to emphasise his agreement and dropping onto one knee as he recognised the procedure that the Queen was about to perform. Nodding her head, Cordelia placed the tip of her spear delicately upon Dorian's right shoulder, then lifted it up and tapped it on both, being careful not to scratch the iron tip upon the Shaman's head. "Then go now, and defeat the menace that so plagues my sewers, my Underground." Rising back to his feet, he gave a more prominent and formal bow of respect to the Queen and her people, before stepping forward to walk through the crowd. "I will not fail you, that I promise," he proclaimed as he parted the rabble of people, bowing his head towards any who gave him thanks as he passed. His footsteps began to echo once again as he found purchase upon the stone floor of the sewer's footpaths, and before long he was once again headed into the darkness. His eyes scanning over the water, he linked back to his already established bond, using the abilities bestowed by the Holy Water Divination he had performed before being taken to the Queen. With his newly found vision of the sewers, he was able to guide himself down the needed paths, and it wasn't long before he found his second vision looking over a few packs of Miasma beasts. However, luckily there weren't as many lurking in the shadows. They were, however, quite high in level. There were three groups, each more menacing than the last. The first was a collection of four Black Essences, common in areas tainted by the effects of Miasma, and these two were quite troublesome at level 15 each. Next, there was a pair of Malicious Mechs, GR-1; these creatures were rather dangerous, especially in packs, gremlins corrupted by dark mana to fuse them to machinery that becomes armour. One of them was level 35, a sort of sergeant type, while the other was merely 25. Finally, there was the Sewer Night Wolf and it's lackeys, the one that Cordelia had warned him of. The Sewer Night Wolf was level 40, tailed by two level 30 Night Wolves that seemed to fall under it's command. All in all, Dorian had his work cut out for him with these packs. But, before he could move ahead, he was suddenly brought back to reality by a blinding flash of light. Reverting to his normal vision, he had found himself in The Feed, but even then it was not the daylight pouring in from above that was illuminating the room so vividly. Shielding his eyes, he glanced through his fingers to see a strange silhouetted figure, hovering amongst the broken down bodies; from the looks of it, she seemed a fox tail spirit, one that was fading from existence quickly, her corporeal form dissipating into the air. "Wait, don't go! I have questions," he called out, but it was no use, she could not hear him. Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward, lowering his hand from over his eyes and moving towards the spirit and attempting to press his hand down upon her shoulder.
Coded by @serenityspace of LH |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2016 7:12:09 GMT
| Dorian HP: 90% MP: 90% |
Them done horrid murder on bloody stages. Them that loudly crowed their humility. Lords and dames that sung In the chapels on a Sunday.
The Shaman had reached out to this glowing fox tail spirit in an effort to connect with it, perhaps gain some answers as to the whereabouts of his lost Shikigami. But what had originally been an intention of simply questioning the spirit, ended up changing dramatically as his hand came into contact with the fading light of her shoulder. The sudden collision of their two very different collections of matter, one physical and the other metaphysical, a blinding flash of light exploded around them, knocking Dorian back into the wall on the opposite side of the room. His eyes drifted to a close as he fell into unconsciousness, drifting into a state of peace for what would be in the real world only a few brief seconds. But in the realm of the mind, time did not work normally. Standing himself up, he found himself in a strange place, where he couldn't quite focus on anything within the environment; there was no tangible floor or ceiling, nor a sky to denote the lack of said ceiling, no walls to keep him in. This was the blissful and yet incredibly terrifying freedom that was the unconscious mind. "Where am I?" He called out in a weak attempt to echo it off of whatever was around him, trying to signal anyone else who might have been caught within his mind. "More importantly, where am I?" Another voice rang back, strangely similar in it's tone of voice; the only difference of course being that it was a more feminine person speaking, their speech pattern not unlike that of the few fox tails that Dorian had encountered in his adventures, like Artemisia or Kitty. It was then that the Shaman saw the glowing figure he had reached out to just moments before... Or was it moments before? He couldn't quite tell. His focus was plastered on the more distinguishable features the glowing fox tail had taken on. She had similar garments to what the Sakura Tree Spirit had worn back when Dorian had first encountered her, but this spirit was different; younger, more naive, but still giving off an air of wisdom. And there was of course the fox tail features such as the collection of tails that it did not bother to disguise, or it's prominent ears that stuck up from underneath it's long locks of brightly coloured orange hair. "You seem as shocked as I am, yet were you not the one who dragged me into this place?" The fox tail stared at him, her own blank expression plastered over her face as she waited for an answer. Dorian merely shook his head, rather confused by the scenario he had found himself in. "I reached out to you, yes; you were fading rather quickly and I need to ask you something..." He trailed off, his voice becoming silent as he realised he had forgotten what it was exactly that he had wished to ask. The fox tail couldn't help but giggle, shaking her head dismissively before approaching. They were now stood just a few metres apart, already scanning over each other with inquisitive eyes. "You are a Shaman, no? And yet, this place... you have lost, or are lacking a Shikigami?" Dorian nodded, before he even knew the answer to the question himself; he was more concerned as to how this fox tail knew so much about him. The fox tail clenched her hands together in front of her politely, the look on her visage telling the Shaman she had worked out what had happened. "It seems that, upon our connection, your subconscious recognised the empty void that was left behind by your lack of a Shikigami, and has - quite rudely, I might add - absorbed me into it's place." Dorian rubbed at his chin in contemplation, nodding his head in agreement. "But aren't Shikigami meant to be a reflection of their Shaman?" The fox tail opened it's eyes wide at this realisation, before releasing a heavy sigh of... relief? "Then I suppose you and I are much more alike than we quite realise." She stepped forward, hesitantly extending out her hand. "While I do not trust you just yet, and I am not certain what lies ahead should we accept this new predicament, the world works in mysterious ways. Perhaps this is the next step in both our journeys."Dorian stared into the crimson red eyes that looked back at him, locking their hues together as he considered this situation. Without Skrowe, he would be weaker in the coming fights, and the old scarecrow had so far been unaccounted for. Perhaps he might find him some day, but today he needed a partner, a Shikigami. Holding out his hand, he took her own and gave a gentle shake, sealing the pact and the agreement; Shaman and Shikigami reborn anew within a solid contract. A bright blinding light surged around their feet, forming a large rune that emblazoned them together, before Dorian began to slowly dissipate back towards reality. "Before I go, your name would be nice," he muttered, and as he faded, the last word he heard the fox tail say was, "Aurelia."Dorian's eyes opened slowly, his conscious coming back to reality as he awoke just seconds after he had been knocked out, quickly clambering up to his feet. Dusting himself off, he glanced around the room, unable to find the spirit that had previously been hovering over the sewer waters. I'm here, a familiar voice spoke out from within the Shaman's mind, a strange and yet comforting sensation to have back, despite the new voice that was now crowded within his subconscious. "Ah, so I wasn't dreaming then...?" Aurelia rolled her eyes, tapping the confines of his mind in an attempt to alert his attention towards the current situation. You're here for a purpose, Dorian; we can chit chat and get to know one another once we've dealt with the problem at hand.Nodding his head, the Shaman refocused his attention, only to stop for a moment as he felt a sudden reinvigorated power surging within his body. With a Shikigami linked within his mind once again, his senses and his form were much stronger now. "I think I'm ready for this." Grinning from ear to ear with a newly found confidence, the Shaman quickly renewed his journey towards the deeper chasms of the sewers. Using his link to the sewer waters that reflected his second vision, he was able to direct himself through the labyrinth, darting over from footpath to footpath. It wasn't long before he picked up a darkened sense nearby. He had managed to stumble upon the pair of Miasma Mechs that were roaming around this area of the sewers, and they looked mean.
This is what you fight, Shaman? I suddenly somewhat regret having agreed to being your Shikigami, Aurelia admitted as she saw the Mechs from around the corner, Dorian keeping himself hidden behind the stone wall. "Don't worry, their levels are only thirty five and twenty five, that's nothing for a level sixty Shaman, hmm?" A reassured sigh emitted from the back of his mind, to which he simply smiled before returning his attention to the monsters ahead. His hand slipped down to his sword belt, gripping onto the hilt of his longsword and slowly, quietly unsheathing it, retrieving it from the confines of it's scabbard. Brandishing his blade in front of him, connected within the palm of his right hand, he glanced up at the crystal ball hovering over his shoulder. It was time to strike. Lunging forward, Dorian enacted the first step, rushing towards the enemy as he swung his sword arm out to his side, readying his blade for the coming storm. As the two Malicious Mechs turned to see what the commotion was, the Shaman was already standing at the ready between them. Activating Sword Dance, he quickly broke into a wild flurry of attacks, spinning his body around the pair of monsters and cutting into their armour with every piercing strike. They managed to try and plant solid attacks upon his person with bunched fists, but alas the whirlwind that was his dance strike deflected most of the damage off of him, parrying any attempt they made. Finally, the skill ended, his form slowing to halt between them once more.
"Well, that was a blast, let's go again." Dorian grinned as he threw out his mockery upon the Miasma corrupted gremlins in their shiny mechanic armour, the angry sergeant throwing out an ordering direction for the level 25 to move in for a decisive strike. But alas, the Shaman was too quick, leaping up off the ground to slash his blade upwards from the bottom of the mech's body to the top, making a sizeable crack in it's armour. Yes! Take that! Aurelia was already getting into the spirit of things, judging by her cheers of excitement from within the confines of the Shaman's mind. Settling back down onto his feet, Dorian darted back a few paces to avoid any unseen strikes as he readied himself for the next wave of attacks.
Coded by @serenityspace of LH |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2016 0:41:54 GMT
| Dorian HP: 80% MP: 70% |
All quiet now, their mouths are stopped up by mud. They lie flung in rags that make no sound. Underground, Underground, Leave them underground.
In a matter of a few moments, the fight had already begun to move towards Dorian's favour, with both of the mechanised creatures having taken quite a bit of damage, the smaller one left with a large gash up the middle of it's body. It was clear to everyone that the Shaman had the upper hand, his blade brandished and ready for the next round. The sergeant mech, as Dorian had grown to begin calling him, made an open palm signal towards the cracked and damaged smaller mech, as a prominent antenna extended from it's back, giving off a blackened visible signal that seemed to pierce through the walls of the sewers. With a wicked grin, it directed the mech ahead of it to attack and destroy, the dishevelled monster still charging in upon it's orders despite it's collection of damages it had already sustained. The Shaman blinked, glancing over the damaged mech's shoulder and going wide-eyed as he noticed that the sergeant was repairing itself. Whatever these things were, their Body Repair skill must be going overtime, mending the scratches and gashes that he had given them, each second bringing them closer back up to full health. Even the smaller mech was slowly regenerating, the gash in it's body closing up gradually until eventually it would no longer be there. "We should probably act fast, or else this is going to be a long fight." Dorian swivelled his sword in his hand, rushing towards the smaller mech with his eyes focused on the gash he had already made; gesturing towards the crystal ball hovering by his shoulder, he directed it in flamboyant fashion at the mech. In a flash of ice and light, the crystal ball whizzed forward and smashed itself into the mech's chest, burrowing between the lines of the gash and lodging inside, holding it open and preventing it from healing; the mech doubled back from the impact, almost toppling over but managing to hold it's ground. The Shaman concentrated his mana, the crystal ball beginning to glow as he activated Demon's Eye, his emerald orbs suddenly exploding with light, as a blue hue surrounded and engulfed them, transforming Dorian into a demonic-looking presence. With the boosted accuracy from the skill, he lunged forward at the open gash, aiming the tip of his blade so that he wouldn't damage his crystal ball as he plunged his weapon straight into the mech's chest, the force sending the blade crashing out the other side. A deafening screech rent the air as Dorian held the blade in place, his crystal ball eagerly returning to float above his shoulder as the monstrous mech exploded into data bubbles, dissipating away and leaving the sewer empty except for himself and the sergeant mech standing nearby, who was now growling furiously at what had transpired. It rushed full speed at the Shaman, knocking it's body into him and sending him careening across the tunnel to smash into the opposite wall. "Damn it," Dorian groaned, slowly clambering back up to his feet as he grabbed his longsword back up off the ground. "I think I'm going to need your help with this one, Aurelia," he muttered to himself, earning a knowing nod of understanding from the Shikigami as she stood impatiently waiting to be summoned. Conjuring his empty left hand up, he began to activate the Summon Shikigami skill, watching as his hand made the delicate mana-infused motions on it's own before conjuring the fox tail form of Aurelia beside him. She was taller than your average Shikigami, standing at about 5'8'', only a few inches shorter than Dorian himself, and her hair and tail were as vibrant an orange as they were inside of the Shaman's mind. "What do you need me for?" She readied her fists, having no weapons of her own due to her incorporeal existence, waiting for the Shaman's order. Dorian nodded, directing his hand towards the sergeant mech and echoing out, "Soulcutter!" With a blinding flash of light, Aurelia's body morphed inwards to become a violent stream of magic energy. Following the directions of it's conjurer, the Soulcutter Shikigami burst through the air at the mech, piercing straight through it's chest and zipping out the other side, leaving a powerful hole where it had hit. Bouncing off the opposite wall, the stream of energy repeatedly rebounded until it found itself back beside Dorian, it's form returning back into Aurelia. "That was... quite exhilarating. Can we do it again?" The fox tail smirked excitedly at Dorian, waiting for another go at the mech, before he quietly shook his head. "It's on a cooldown, I can't..." He was about to explain, when the rumbles of movement alerted him to the presence of others in the sewers. Suddenly, as if they had sensed the turmoil, the large pack of Black Essences squirmed their way into the battlefield, readying themselves for battle. Looking over at the now severely wounded sergeant mech, the Shaman quickly realised what had happened; the sergeant's antenna was actually it using it's Corrupt Signal skill, drawing the Black Essences into the fray. Luckily, Dorian had already picked them out, all of them at a measly level fifteen, but that didn't stop the four of them from quickly getting themselves pumped to strike. The sergeant mech himself was beginning to collect himself, but his health was very low at this point; something, it seemed, the mech had noticed. With an ungodly screech akin to the one the other mech had made, the monster rushed Dorian as it activated Detonation, a highly volatile self-destruct skill that would likely do some serious damage if it exploded in front of the Shaman. In the short, split moment that the towering hulk of machinery closed in to detonate, the Shaman acted fast, sliding down in front of it and using as much body strength as he could to launch the mech away from him. "This... will do... nicely!" Sending the mech flying through the air with a sudden shove, the primed and ready to detonate monster fell amidst the group of Black Essences. Their was a sudden scream of anguish and anger as the mech suddenly exploded with a horrendously loud force, knocking Dorian back a few paces. Keeping on his feet, he watched as the Black Essences were all but splattered over the walls and ceiling within the sewer tunnel, leaving them dishevelled and defeated. Dorian blinked in surprise, as Aurelia smiled at how effective the manoeuvre was that he had performed. "Time to do some clearing out, then," Aurelia muttered to the Shaman, looking to him as she wondered what they would do next. Dorian nodded slowly, brandishing his blade once again and charging into the plastered group of Black Essences. The two closest to him quickly rose up to meet him, though their forms were damaged and battered, close to death due to the impact and destruction left by the flaming explosion of the sergeant mech. With a few swift swipes of his blade, he was able to cut through the black goo that made up the Essences, leaving them in puddled pieces until their bodies disintegrated into the familiar array of data bubbles that vanished into thin air. "Two down, two to go," the Shaman remarked, turning to the last Black Essences left in the tunnel. Scared and frightened of death, the closest of the last remaining two managed to regain it's original form, that of the floating black orb of wispy Miasma, as it activated it's Soul Taint skill, firing a black mist at Dorian; luckily, it was too low level to do much damage, but the Shaman felt the darkness hit him hard in his chest and stun him for at least a second. This gave the other Black Essence time enough to activate it's own skill, a strange sickness debuff called Corrupt Flu; doubling back, Dorian gasped as he felt his body become decimated by the debuff, his stats (other than his health and mana) dropping by a whopping 25%. The Shaman gritted his teeth, brandishing his blade as he swung forward, pushing through the sickness and striking out at the two formed orbs of Miasma. Crashing his blade through the two Essences, it was a matter of seconds before their damaged and broken forms were defeated and destroyed, more data bubbles filling the air before dissipating as well. Dorian stopped for a moment, taking a quick breather to collect his thoughts as the sickness debuff wore off after only 10 seconds. "That's two groups down, only one left to go," the Shaman breathed out, sheathing his sword and turning to face Aurelia. "The Sewer Night Wolf... Yes, it will be a tough fight, but the Miasma beasts will be no match for us, don't worry." Aurelia's calming words drifted upon the wind, her head nodding as she slowly desummoned back into the confines of the Shaman's mind, where she waited patiently for her chance to be summoned again.
Coded by @serenityspace of LH |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 1, 2016 7:40:26 GMT
| Dorian HP: 60% MP: 50% |
Those who fought for something better. Those who taught by how they lived. Loved ones taken long before their work was done. Underground, Underground, Leave them underground.
Dusting himself off, the Shaman nodded softly as he readied for the next stage; the sewers were almost clear of the Miasma beasts, with two of the roaming packs already wiped clean from the underground system. All that was left was the Night Wolves, led by a ferocious Sewer variant that seemed to lead them as some sort of Alpha. "Luckily my memory is enough to keep me going here; I don't need to conjure up another water ritual." His crystal ball hovering above his shoulder, his longsword firmly sheathed within it's leather container strapped to his hip, and his companion Shikigami - the fox tail Aurelia - quietly and patiently waiting within his mind, Dorian was ready to head off; after taking a few moments to recuperate a little bit of health and mana, he began walking. Have you been doing this for long? Aurelia's voice was quiet, soft, much less irritating than Skrowe had been when he occupied the space in the Shaman's mind. "Not really, actually; it seems like a long time, but really I've only been adventuring for three months, closing on four." He explained how he had been transported into the new world here in Elder Tale just over 2 years ago, having stayed within the safety of the city and avoiding any hard-paying work, sticking to keeping himself away from people and - more importantly - alive. Though, looking back, he wished he had started up adventuring sooner; the humble life of an impoverished player in his game world was not one of excitement, and from the time he had spent, adrenaline coursing through him every step of the way... He wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. Truly he had accepted his place here, even grown to prefer it. Aurelia seemed less inclined to tell her own story, though Dorian couldn't tell if it was reluctance or a simple lack of memory that prevented her from exploring her past further. She was a spirit after all; it was highly possible she was simply formed from the Shaman's need for a new Shikigami, crafted and formed off of his own image, a reflection of his inner soul. Though it was confusing to him that she was... well, a woman, he felt oddly calm with her presence, like he was made whole once again. "Whatever happens, I'll be sure to tell you everything you want to know about me once we get back up topside." Aurelia nodded, curling her lips into a genuine smile at the thought of seeing the surface for the first time. But, alas, they had bigger fish to fry for now. The dark monotony and silence as they walked was broken rather quickly as they heard a rumble of growls; the walls and ceiling echoed around them as a cacophony of howls were released, the sound of twenty wolves drowning out the quiet with their voices. "That can't be..." Dorian had specifically remembered counting only three Night Wolves, including the Sewer Wolf, but now he was hearing an entire platoon. Dorian, don't forget that in a pack, wolves can mix their howls together to fake themselves as a larger force; it's likely a fear tactic, don't get rattled. Aurelia was right, of course. Wolves were notorious for using the nature of sound waves to amplify their howls to appear as more than one wolf when in a pack; this was usually designed to ward off predators. But, Night Wolves had an even more menacing ability; Camouflage. Using the shadows of the sewer to their advantage, they could mask their HP and name until they are right on top of their prey, the ultimate stealth and pack predators. Dorian, unfortunately, had to learn this the hard way, as a ferocious snarl broke behind him, an angry Night Wolf leaping onto his back and using Chomp on his shoulder. Grunting from the pain, he shrugged off the beast and swiftly unsheathed his weapon, turning to brandish it at the Night Wolf that had attacked him, who was now hungrily circling. Scanning it's body from up close, the Shaman could see that it was a level forty... "The Sewer Wolf." Sure enough, the nasty, pure black wolf, it's fur giving off a tinted aura of green, was swiftly joined by two similar looking but smaller Night Wolves, both of which were pure black, blending with the darkness. Keep your guard up, they're going to come in for a full pack attack. The Shikigami warned Dorian as fast as she could, keeping him alert as the trio readied to pounce. Holding his hand down towards the ground, he activated Shielding Explosion, watching as his icy crystal ball floated down to hover in front of his chest. Bursting outwards from the orb, a large 5 foot radius dome of a barrier expanded out quickly around the Shaman, knocking the trio back into the shadows as they pounced against it. "It'll hold for five seconds, so we need to think of something fast." The wolves hungrily paced themselves around the barrier, keeping just a few inches short of it and readying themselves, patiently waiting for the large dome to dissipate and serve them their next meal on a silver platter. With three seconds left to spare, Dorian made a prayer; he would not be going down easy for these aggressive beasts. Holding his hand out to press his fingers around his crystal ball, he activated Barrier of Cleansing Flames, his body suddenly becoming engulfed in an aura of flame. As the barrier disappeared, the Shaman grinned with a fiery vengeance, lighting up the tunnel and eliminating the darkness; the Wolves no longer had the advantage of stealth. As he struck out at the Sewer Wolf, his blade sparked a jet of fire to burn the blackened and green glowing fur, adding extra damage onto his attack as he slashed a few more times at it's Miasma-tainted form. The wolf snarled, pained and burned from the flurry of attacks as it backed away, barking at it's followers to pincer and attack while the Shaman was distracted. Alas, his aura of flame reacted as the two lower level creatures pounced from behind, attacking and scurrying back as their bodies were burnt as well from the flaming aura. Turning to face his assailants as he shrugged off the scratches they had made, he brandished his blade once again, slashing it back and forth across their bodies and backing them up against the sewer wall. "Your Miasma shall be cleansed with the light of my flames!" Dorian shouted, really only wanting to sound cool in this ferocious moment as he took the advantage. Backed into a corner and fearful for it's life, one of the lower levelled wolves leaped to attempt a Shadow Claw attack, but the Shaman was too quick, the flames of his aura licking up his blade as he skewered it straight through the Night Wolf's belly, impaling it gruesomely onto the steel of his longsword. In an explosion of light, the 'kebab'ed wolf burst into data bubbles, the glistening colours dissipating, as they always did, into the air. "You're next," the Shaman muttered as he turned to the second, making a spun manoeuvre with his body to pick up momentum in his swing, slashing the flaming blade of his weapon across the Night Wolf's body and exploding it into bubbles as well. All that is left is the Sewer Wolf, Aurelia remarked, alerting Dorian towards the darkness behind him where he was able to quickly parry his blade up just as the aforementioned creature leaped towards him for another Chomp. He quickly knocked the Miasma beast down onto the sewer floor, blade at the ready as he stepped towards it, flames circling his form. With one final cutting slash of his longsword down on the beast's neck, the knock of steel on stone echoed through the sewer tunnels, followed by the familiar burst of bubbles as the Night Wolf pack was no more. "Gosh... You were right, this is exhilarating!" Dorian chuckled, shaking his head as a level of calm began to return to his body, his blade swivelling in his hand as he sheathed it into it's scabbard upon his belt. You didn't even need me for that one, though I like to think my presence helped you. The Shaman could not deny that; had it not been for his new Shikigami keeping him alert, he would not have survived such an ordeal. But, pleasantries and thanks aside, it was time to inform the Queen of the Underground of his success. Dorian and Aurelia were greeted with cheers back at the Underground base, and they bid the gang farewell as they returned together to Londinium proper.
Coded by @serenityspace of LH |
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