Curse

LaserLight · Apr 03, 2006, 07:35 AM // 07:35

(OOC: Heh…much more make-work posting and Greysen will have walked from Kryta to get to Ranik. Think I’m gonna have to wait for things to happen and a proper opening to present itself before I drop in here again. Move it, folks!)

IC: Greysen had indeed traveled through the night, avoiding the fire of the prophet’s camp easily and gratefully. In midmorning however, his muscles demanded a break – he’d been walking for two straight days, and now it was time to sit for a while. Finding a convenient boulder, Greysen grounded himself and produced a strip of cured meat, chewing the tough food down without really tasting it. It was a shame; Greysen was probably one of ten men in all the world who actually enjoyed the taste of cured meat. After what he’d been fed in the pits, cured meat – and most anything else – was an adventure in culinary excellence.

Midway through his meal, Greysen noticed a hushed whine from the bushes to his left. Glancing in his direction, the Pit Fighter momentarily stopped chewing in surprise as he spotted the wolf he had kicked off last night. The thing was on its belly under the plantlife, watching him with longing as he chewed on the meat. In the daylight, when the beast wasn’t trying to kill and eat him, Greysen noted both the number and clarity of ribs in each of the animal’s flanks and the scars of many fierce battles. He also noticed fur starting to lose its vibrant color from age, and this last clue told him immediately what had happened.

Lost a dominance fight, did you? Unusual that the loser is thrown out, especially at your age, but from the looks of those scars, you gave him a run for his money, didn’t you?

The wolf, noticing Greysen’s stare and that it wasn’t hostile, sidled forward some, whining with increased volume and frequency as it eyed Greysen’s meat strip with unflinching regard. Something about the way the beast moved clued the Pit Fighter into a bit more truth.

Female? That’s bizarre, I’ve never heard of alpha females driving off defeated rivals before. Usually they just demote them to hunters and babysitters. How strange. And strange that she would be out here alone, with so little fear of humanity as to approach me in the daylight.

Then the light shifted in the matted fur around the wolf’s collar and the last piece of the puzzle slid home.

That’s a fighting collar. Or the remains of one. You aren’t wild at all, are you girl? Or at least not born and bred, though you must be feral now. If you were ever tame to start with. A fighting beast…another victim of the blood sports. They must have thrown you out the gates when you started getting too old to win fights, but the fact that you survived alone means you’re a good one in a scrap. Hm hm…no wonder you’re back, old girl. You recognize a kindred spirit when you see one.

Smiling faintly to himself, Greysen freed another strip of meat from his rucksack and tossed it to the wolf. She bolted it down in a handful of seconds, then looked directly and Greysen and whined so beseechingly that the Pit Fighter couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, old girl. Come here,” he said as he patted the rock next to him, “and we’ll see about getting what remains of that collar off.”

Staring at Greysen for a moment, the wolf snorted once, then padded over to the Pit Fighter, stopping just beyond the rock and whining again. Greysen knelt in front of the beast, carefully. She was being calm now, but this was an animal who had survived the carnage of the Beastfights, the only blood sport Greysen considered more savage and brutal than the Pit Fights he had been raised in. The wolf could turn on him at any moment, and even three-quarters starved like she was she could be a vicious foe.

But the wolf remained still as Greysen carefully removed the filthy, broken fighting collar, using a small knife he’d produced from his pack to cut away the snarled fur holding it in place, finally removing the stinking remnants of the heavy spiked leather and throwing them into the forest. He stood up and the wolf shook itself violently, settling everything back down, and gave him a look of such extreme gratitude that Greysen had to laugh again.

“Glad to be rid of that, are you girl? I agree, it can’t have been comfortable. Though I must say you look a bit odd now with your fur crimped and short like that around your neck.”

The wolf eyed Greysen silently for a moment, then looked up on the boulder where the remaining half of the Pit Fighter’s own strip of meat lay. She eyed the food for a moment, then turned back to Greysen and whuffed imperiously. A belly laugh bubbled out of Greysen’s gut and, shaking with mirth, he grabbed the strip and handed it to the wolf, who bolted it down with a single gulp.

“Yes ma’am! I know an order when I hear one, and I’ve heard plenty enough to be a good judge.”

Grabbing up his rucksack, now running short of cured meat, Greysen started back on the road, calling over his shoulder, “Good luck to you, girl. You’ll need it out here these days.”

He’d taken all of five steps when noise behind him turned him around again. The wolf was sitting a few paces behind him, eyeing him quizzically. She yipped softly, then took another step forward. Her intent was obvious.

You have got to be kidding me. There’s no way I could care for a bloody wolf! I can barely take care of myself outside of a fight, let along a massive beast like this! Besides, I’m no Ranger to fight with Melandru and her beasts by my side and protect oversized vegetable patches! Curse you dog, “Stay still!”

Turning around, Greysen began marching towards Ranik again. He heard the wolf whining piteously behind him, but there were no pawfalls. She was, for the moment, staying still. Then…

FLASH – The wolf lay in front of a herd of deer, watching them, waiting for her chance. A chance that would never come. The deer glared contemptuously at the starvation-deformed she-wolf, even those stupid beasts realizing that the wolf was no threat. She was one of the greatest fighters the Beast Pits had ever produced, but she didn’t know the first thing about hunting, or even surviving in the wild. She was matted with parasites and riddled with diseases, too naïve in the ways of the forest to care for herself.

Just like Greysen in the great cities filled with masses of humanity to whom Greysen didn’t – couldn’t – feel the least connection to.

I am going to regret this for a very long time.

Sighing to himself, Greysen stopped, half-turned, and motioned to the wolf. “Come along then. But you’d better pull your weight, or I’ll cook and eat you myself.”

The wolf yipped and trotted up to Greysen, not coming quite close enough to touch, but definitely close enough to be with Greysen. He didn’t mind; he understood completely. He didn’t like people touching him, either. Greysen remembered for a moment the first handful of miles out from the city he’d escaped from. Then, he’d been traveling with one of the Pit Fighters he’d freed from their mutual enslavement. Gratitude had held the two together for a while, but each shortly realized that the presence of the other was a nail in their minds. Neither could relax or drop their guard with the other present – years of ingrained survival instinct would not be denied, and that instinct labeled any other Pit Fighter as threat and enemy and demanded the Fighter’s death.

Less than twenty miles out of the city, the pair had split up, Greysen in pursuit of his own goals while the other went to find a way to continue living. Yet Greysen found now that he missed the companionship – an almost foreign feeling to the introverted, brutalized Pit Fighter. He had been alone for so long, and in a sudden burst of insight, Greysen realized he was sick of it. It was time to make some friends. Even if one of them was a shaggy, smelly, half-starved she-wolf.

The pair walked on, each content with silence for a while. Then Greysen glanced at the wolf and pondered aloud, “I wonder what I should call you. Wolf or Girl aren’t names to be known by. You need a name of your own, even if you’ll never recognize it.” Greysen thought for a moment, then a cold shiver swept through him. I couldn’t…but then, knowing her back then, I think she would have approved.

Greysen paused and knelt down, looking the wolf in the eyes. The beast sidled uncomfortably, disliking the intensity of Greysen’s stare but somehow sensing the importance of the moment to the big human. Greysen looked into the wolf’s eyes for a moment, then nodded imperceptibly. Yes…you two would have been two of a kind, if she’d survived.

“You’re Serrina now, girl. For as long as you choose to travel with me.”

Standing back up, Greysen strode towards Ranik with the ground-eating walk he’d traveled a third of the country with, and Serrina easily kept pace beside him, wondering just what the hell had happened there…

Goats17 · Apr 06, 2006, 12:49 PM // 12:49

(OOC: Sorry guys continue like I'm not here. I won't be posting or a while. Food poisonin For The Freakin' Lose.

Mentalmdc · Apr 06, 2006, 03:37 PM // 15:37

(OOC: Hey I've got too much GCSE work as its coming along so I can't post anymore. But I'd appreciate it if you'd let my friend Richmuel caryr on for me. He'll post shortly.)

Rhiannon ran for the door feeling slighty queasy due to the poison. Realsing the coming events would do more damage than good to her unborn baby she decided she would no longer take a part. Edging away into the shadows she left one alst goodbye note to her friends, about her past, the island and her child.

Tears splashed to the ground as she dissapeared into the distance. Her new baby would save the fate of others in another generation, but as she looked on, the heroes in front of her would be saviours of this generation.

Richmuel · Apr 06, 2006, 05:24 PM // 17:24

(OOC: Hello all, I hope you don't mind me taking Mentalmdcs place, I'll just go ahead and post

)

Sasha Deloxitia was a girl with a dark side, a passion for all things necrid. Sasha had scared many men away from her past, a light spring in her step but a dark cackle and enjoyment for things that were often quite scary to the average person. However unlike most necromancers, Sasha had a most stunning figure and looks that could easily seduce. She had veered away from the all too common route of commandeering the dead for delving into such dark magics had the distasteful side effects of making the master look more like the minion skin and Sasha had a rather large fondness of her soft skin, and strong dislike for those Minionmancers who had roting fingers and putrid eyes, the ones that looked as if all life had been drained from their skin. No Sasha was confident and loved what she did, occaisionally delving into all aspects of Necromancery she prefered the Curses. Sasha liked things rough but especially enjoyed teasing those who were more tough than average. Although she did not know it yet, the pit fighter on his way to Ranik would provide an especially fun time for Sasha to tease and toil with, although in the end it was likely the Pit Fighter would just knock her aside.

Sasha watched from shadows, lingering in the unseen backroom of the shop, laughing to herself she found a sense of fun watching the heroes in the next room struggle against the various mechanisms designed to keep intruders out, it was especially amusing to see one of the monks become extremely confused, he had in fact seen a chimera jump out at him, for some special magic was being used, one designed to mock and confuse. Sasha sighed seeing how the people in the next room were getting nowhere, this would be a great opperunity to scare those who were unaware of her presence.

Sasha lept out from the back room screaming, the figures in the room were abruptly startled and much paler than they had een a few minutes ago, Sasha rolled on the floor laughing, the petrified looks had been too much for her. However the figures did not take the joke as kindly, one of them drew a sword rather angrily. The unknown figure yelled out,

"Who are you?"
"I am Sasha Deloxitia, Necromancer. Pleased to meet you acquaintance."
"Are you the owner of this strange shop?"
"No! I'm just here to watch."
"Something strange is going on. Why are you lurking in the shadows."
"Ah, now there you see is a good question," laughing to herself and walking round the gathering she cast a quick spell directed in the direction of the crate. Immediately the gas dissapated and the shadow warriors dissapeared completely.

"I have been on a long search, a search that has led me here, and you my friends are in the way! I am suprised you did not realise what was taking place in the room, simple defence mechanisms for private property have been messing with your minds. Quite an amusing show I might add."

The more Sasha went on the more hostile the figures in the room began to get.

"Well then Sasha, you might like to explain what exactly this place is, one of friends, where is Rhiannon by the way, recognised the symbol on the shop, one that was imprinted on her murdered friends."

"What if I told you I was on the island that day those girls were murdered, once again I watched from the shadows as something brutally killed those young girls, that I too was a monk studying on that Island, but to a clash in fates I was kidnapped. I was in the room when it happened, those girls died in front of me as I was snatched and whisked away. However I was left in a very dark place, a place I can not remember much about, but on the wall was this very symbol. I was forced to survive by myself until some Necromancers took me in and converted my training. I can not tell you what carried out the murders for it was an invisble force, something dark and beyond all comprehension, but I made it my life long quest to find out what was responsible, and it has led me to this shop."

Something clanged in the backroom diverting all the characters attention, a terrifying hissing noise erupted through the shop as a dark green cloud formation in the shape of a lions head appeared in the middle of the doorway, a snake apparition darted through it and made a move against Sasha.

"What? I disabled the defence mechanisms?"

Sasha looked confused, but what she did not realise was that she was far out of her depth, something darker was at work and these were not defence mechanisms but the real thing. The apparition dissapeared, but the ground began to shake flinging books across the room, a cloud of dust built up so that nobody standing in the room could see, to Sashas horror the dust began to take form in a shape, the shape of a chimera.

"This isn't meant to happen! If we get out of this alive, I'll fill you in on what happened whilst you were away."

Goats17 · Apr 11, 2006, 10:45 PM // 22:45

OOC: Continue like I'm at the camp for quite a while guys, I'm a little swamped with work. I give my permission for u to use him if you guys want to interract with him. I will just continue later. I'm soooooo sorry, but I have school.

Ristaron · Apr 12, 2006, 02:02 AM // 02:02

OOC: I'm still waiting for someone else to post for the roleplay, I don't want to have monopoly on the story.

LaserLight · Apr 12, 2006, 03:07 AM // 03:07

OOC: Gah...gonna have to get messy then. I'll work up something soon, but it won't be pretty. I hate chopping into a story like this...-_-

LaserLight · Apr 18, 2006, 04:26 AM // 04:26

OOC: Okay, fine, maybe I won't...>_< Sorry guys, college is hitting me like a dump truck on NOS and the other massive RP I'm involved in has exploded. I can still post, but I can't find the inspiration for anything useful at this stage. Ristaron, take over, for the sake of the story, please?

Goats17 · Apr 18, 2006, 08:54 PM // 20:54

(OOC: muahahahaha It is not Ristaron that shall take over, it is me!!! Well, I finally got some free time, so I'm going write more.)

IC: Kratos looked down at his food sack longingly. It had a large gash along the side of it, and most of the food had spilled out.
"Shit, I guess I'm going to have to go to my parents house. I hoped that I wouldn't have to." He looked around, cleared his campsite with a wave of his staff, and saddled up his backpack. He took one last look around, then setoff at a brisk pace.

Travelling had never been an enjoyable task for him, but since he went to visit and study under the Mursaat......He had changed. He was more violent, more...nomadic. He would sometimes wander around for hours, just killing things with his mind. The 'Mind Shock' skill he had learned was great for this, as he had more mana than most things in Tyria. He thought of selling his sword that his father had given him and buying a Bone Staff. Or, he thought, I know where Vilnar Painforge makes his den. I know what he is creating with the powers of Grenth. I could kill him and steal it...Yes, that is what I shall do. As soon as I can, I shall forgo all of this Sword and Shield training, or the power of the Necrotic Order.

As he entered his villages valley, he noticed changes already. Not even one child was playing in the fields. The farmers were working as fast as they could, so as not to be trapped outside if an attack came. Suddenly, out of nowhere, two guards wearing the traditional Ascalon army outfits came over and shouted
“Oy, you! Halt! Who are you then?” The larger of the two yelled. Kratos stared at them for a 5 seconds each. He remembered them. They were his old chums, Dornath and Goathlorn. The cheery eyes that he used to now were gone. Taken by the invasion probably.

“ I’m hurt,” he said to the two, “ You don’t remember your old pal? Eh, Goat?” That did it, The two of them looked at Kratos for a second. Then, realizing who he was, they smiled and tackled him to the ground. The three rolled around, wrestling for a few minutes, before Kratos beat them and they all stood up.

‘Well then, I guess we better take you to your dear old mum and dad then, eh,” said Dornath “And don’t even think about kicking us out, we want to hear what you’ve been doing for the past eight years,” Goat added eagerly.

After a well deserved overnight stay, some provision building, some bag repairing, and some excellent story telling. The three chums were read to head off to the Fort. Goat and Dornath wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when he told them where he was going. He asked them about their guarding duties, and they said that they were just volunteers. The real guard was coming back today. So donning the armor of their chosen magical studies, An Elementalist, A Necromancer, and a Ranger set out for Ranik. With Kratos asking Dornath about the teaching methods of the Order, and how he could be inducted.

Grenth watched all the happening of the trio, waiting for his chance to rid the group of the Ranger. Goat would have to die if Grenth wanted the power of the young Kratos. Student of the Mursaat, his oldest cult. He waited and waited. Ready to strike at any moment.

Ristaron · Apr 18, 2006, 10:57 PM // 22:57

All pretense of annoyance left the ranger as he watched Sasha's face contort into an image of horror and shock. Flying books and the appearance of a large Chimera forced him to aknowledge that this was the real thing.

In a flash, the mountainfolk was rushing into the crowded shop, his rapiers ready for quick stabs so he didn't catch any of his allies with wide swings.
He gritted his teeth as the Chimera's thick hide took most of the punishment under his sharp weapons. He would have to hit weak spots, not whatever area was convenient.

Ducking a backlash attempt from the beast, the nimble ranger had to roll to avoid a follow-up attack from overhead. As Ristaron came to be on his back, his feet found the front of the desk. Pushing off, the ranger slid along the partially rotted hardwood floors, and underneath the Chimera.

Squinting his eyes to protect them from any spray of blood, Ristaron drove his rapiers up into the beast's underbelly.

Goats17 · Apr 23, 2006, 07:14 PM // 19:14

(OOC: where'd everyone else go? I am going to wait for some more posts in this before I go on.)

LaserLight · Apr 24, 2006, 12:02 AM // 00:02

OOC: End of semester blues, Goats...-_-. I've got three weeks left, then I'm free. Will try and get stuff down, but my end of the storyline is stagnating something fierce. I suppose, if I can't get something up by next weekend, ye should just kick me. Hate to say it, but it may be necessary.

Goats17 · Apr 24, 2006, 08:44 PM // 20:44

(OOC: I mean the other people. There were a few others here, where did they go? Richmuel? Brother Doug? Rilder? Anyone other than Me, Ristaron and Laser?)

LaserLight · Apr 27, 2006, 12:39 AM // 00:39

OOC: much apologies for both the lateness and inelegance of the following post, but someone needed to post something, and I’m done playing around in the countryside.

IC:

It had taken longer than he’d wanted to take with the added burden of procuring supplies for Serrina as well as himself, but Greysen was finally there. He crested the last hill and beheld the great Fort Ranik, once-proud military citadel of Ascalon.

Now, according to travelers and passersby, an enclave of Krytan Guilds.

Greysen scowled at the thought, pouring over the information as he strode towards the fortress, Serrina at his heels. Krytan Guild Lords in the heart of Ascalon, inside one of Ascalon’s greatest fortresses. It was a distressing thought. The Krytans had never been friendly to Ascalon and Ascalonian interests, and even if they had been, allowing any foreign national a powerful fortress in the heart of Ascalon struck Greysen as a very bad idea. It would have struck Serrina as a bad idea as well if she had known, understood, and cared, but she didn’t, and so she could only sense Greysen’s dark mood and wonder if anything in particular had caused it.

As the pair walked towards Fort Ranik, Greysen’s sensitive ears picked up on the sounds of battle inside the fortress, and his keen eyes picked up the twisted bodies of archers which had been thrown off the walls, lying forever still. Putting the two together with the Krytan Guild’s presence, and Greysen broke into a sprint, a surprised Serrina quickly catching up as the Pit Fighter bolted for Ranik, a sudden urgency to get there boiling in his veins.

The gate had been left unmanned, the normal gate guards having been called inside to deal with the fighting, and thus Greysen was able to run into the base unopposed, just in time to see chaos unfold. A Necromancer woman had just fled from an old, worn-looking building and a great many soldiers were clustered around the area, weapons drawn across the board. An absolutely huge wolf stood near the shop, growling at the entrance, a strangely dressed man wearing a blindfold standing near the wolf and staring in horror at the wall. Remembering tales he’d heard of the warrior he sought fighting alongside a wolf of unusual size, Greysen’s intuition suddenly snapped, and he knew that his objective was inside the shop. Surging down towards the shop, Greysen brutally battered aside any who stood in his way, opening a path for himself and Serrina through the thronging guardsmen. Weapons leapt from stunned wrists and teeth leapt from stunned jaws as the Pit Fighter charged savagely forward. The deep-throated animal roars from inside the shop were not reassuring, and Greysen needed that man, damnit!

Finally breaking through the crowd of guards – none had dared venture too close to the sounds of brutal battle inside the shop – Greysen had just enough time to wonder what Serrina would do about the huge wolf which had to be the warrior’s companion before he thundered through the door and stopped dead.

A huge beast, what appeared to be a chimera, occupied the majority of the space inside the shop, and doing battle with it was a man of ebony skin and ivory hair, wielding twin short blades and wearing garb similar to that of the servants of Melandru. There couldn’t possibly be two men of that description in the world – this was the warrior Greysen had sought! And the great bloody chimera was doing its best to kill him!

“Oh no you don’t you stupid beast!”

Charging towards the chimera, the enchanted gloves sparking to fiery life, Greysen’s right fist thundered into the best’s center throat shortly after the warrior’s short blades ripped into its stomach, the staggering punch crushing the chimera’s trachea even as the fiery gloves seared flesh and fur, releasing a horrible stench into the air. Now the demon-beast had two foes to worry about.

Meanwhile, outside, Serrina stared down the other wolf, which had to outmass her by a factor of five, growling slightly and wavering between attacking the alpha female or going in to aid her human. Frozen there, the she-wolf ended up simply waiting for the outcome.

Ristaron · Apr 29, 2006, 05:32 AM // 05:32

OOC: No worries, we now have something to go on!

IC:
The appearance of the massive warrior had shocked and surprised the ranger, and his relief could not have been greater when the man showed his loyalties. The force of the blow had sent the chimera a few feet away, ripping it away from the grounded mountainfolk. Ristaron had lost his grip on the one rapier as the beast was knocked away.
For a few moments, the ranger simply watched as the large warrior continued his merciless assault. But the man's powerful attacks weren't fast enough to keep ahead of the quick Chimera, and the power behind the surprise attack very quickly was met - as was the brute strength of the newcomer. Ristaron could not help but envy the man's strength; the enormous warrior was matching a fully developed Chimera.

Realizing that the battle was not yet over, the ranger shot to his feet and launched himself at the Chimera at a different angle, forcing its attention two ways.
Flanked and wounded, the beast could not contend with the fighting prowess of the two fighters, and it knew it would not last much longer.
A powerful blow from the larger warrior connected with the side of the Chimera's head, forcing the face towards the mountainfolk. Now dazed and tired on top of weak from the loss of blood in the wound to its underbelly, the Chimera could only watch as a precisely-aimed rapier thrust forward into its eye.

The blade easily pierced the eye, splitting the organ in half. But the thrust had more force behind it than to simply blind the creature, and the steel continued all the way into the Chimera's brain.
As the beast slumped, Ristaron noted the newcomer's full lungs. The man didn't even have to breathe through his mouth after releasing that explosion of attacks.
Spotting his rapier, still embedded in the Chimera's guts, Ristaron bent down and placed a hand on the hilt. A few attempts finally freed the blade, along with the dead creature's entrails, which spilled messily onto the rotted hardwood floor.

As Ristaron shook his blades clean, sending rivulets of blood to the floor, he turned to regard the newcomer.
"Greetings", he said politely, "and my compliments to your exceptional performance."

Brother Doug · May 09, 2006, 08:13 PM // 20:13

(OOC: End-of-semester blues is right...right now, I'm packed full of exams. Once I get through this week, I'll be free once again, and I'll catch up to the story.)

Goats17 · May 10, 2006, 09:23 PM // 21:23

(OOC: Ok, thats it. I'm tired of waiting, I'm coming in to the story with the reast of you.

)

IC: Kratos walked with Goat and Dornath towards the Fort. Talking as they went. When they stopped for the night, Kratos' REAL instructions began. This was where the practical was. Raising a minion. His first task was to find a wolf and kill it. But there was only one set of wolf tracks nearby. And they were accompanied by human tracks. So there ended his minion training. He went on to Curses, and there he flourished. Slowing things down and siphoning away their life was a great joy to him. He finished his training in record time and three days later, he was ready to take on a higher level of teaching. It was on the fourth day, that the reached Fort Ranik.

The Krytan guild flag was flying outside, as if mocking the glory of Ascalon. kratos and his friends could hear a large battle being waged inside a building, not far off. With the smell of fire and blood in his nose, he ran towards the sound as if drawn there by a Gods power.

"Greetings", said an ebony skinned ranger,"and my compliments to your exceptional performance.". Standing next to the mountainfolk was one of the last people Kratos had ever expected to see again. Greysen. That, coupled with the two wolfs outside, and the dead Chimera on the ground, made Kratos humbled to be in the presence of such great warriors, for the mountainfolk in fron of him was surely Ristaron, the one he had come to find.

LaserLight · May 17, 2006, 06:54 AM // 06:54

OOC: Note to anyone left who's bothering with this. I'm having some narsty troubles with my computer right now, can only get online borrowing other family members'. Due to this, my already glacial posting rate may take a further hit.

Ugh...-_-

Goats17 · May 18, 2006, 10:04 PM // 22:04

(OOC: I'm starting to get a little annoyed, where is everyone? I don't wanna have to carry this RP by myself, it's so good. I can't manage by myself, and Kratos can't do anything 'till one of you guys responds.)

LaserLight · May 19, 2006, 08:42 PM // 20:42

Rubbing his knuckles to work the blood through them again, Greysen ignored the dark-skinned warrior for a moment, an air of disinterested calm hiding a furiously working mind. So this is the quasi-mystical resistance leader who defeated the Grawl…but why is he here now, when it’s so blatantly obvious the Krytan Guild is in a state of hostile panic? And why in Grenth’s name was he fighting that beast, and alone at that? Where are the other resistance fighters, and why aren’t they being treated as kings? What the hell is going on here?

The situation was quite obviously far more complex than Greysen had anticipated it would be. He’d heard the reverently-repeated stories of the resistance fighters that had virtually single-handedly staved off the Grawl invasion – the heroes who had stiffened the Ranik garrison’s spine and acted as its brain, directing a miraculous battle that had left the beast tribes savaged, driven into the deep wilderness to lick their grievous wounds.

And yet, the guards outside seemed just as ready to kill the resistance leader as the chimera, and none had aided the man in his desperate, almost futile struggle. The chances were better than even that, without his own interference, the great mage-beast would have destroyed the hero. There was no reverence here! Nor even gratitude – without this man’s efforts, the Krytans would have no hold in Ascalon, and they did nothing to aid him.

There’s more to this than I know. Lightly, Greysen. You know not where you stand here.

All this thought took place in a mere handful of seconds as the resistance leader cleaned his blades and offered his appreciation for Greysen’s skill. Greysen noted that he did not offer thanks for seemingly saving the man’s life, but did not mind – from another warrior, acknowledgment of skill in battle was more important than mostly-useless gratitude. Greysen’s battle against the chimera had impressed the man, and hopefully that appreciation would translate directly into information.

Greysen dropped his hands then, the last sparks from the fiery gloves dying away, and turned to face the resistance leader. His gaze was cool, distant…as it always was, save when Greysen was angry. He held himself in a decidedly non-threatening posture, an almost exaggerated posture. He knew the resistance leader would pick up on the intent – the idiots outside think I’m done fighting. You know better – and thus felt confident in finally speaking.

“Thank you. My name is Greysen, and I’ve been looking for you.”