Curse

Ristaron · Jan 14, 2006, 07:30 PM // 19:30

Because I have not yet had my character fight... I decided to have a fight post... I'll leave it open so people can join. Please only 4 or 5 other people... unless we are all going to be on the SAME page... the last one I started wound up with three or four different areas that got really confusing and I had to tell people to get it together.

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Adjusting his cloak as he passed though one of the many unmarked trails of the North Krytan Province, Ristaron let down his hood when the sun emerged from behind the great cloud which had concealed it for most of the day. His silvery-white hair glistened in the nourishing rays, and he closed his midnight blue eyes to raise his face skyward. His feet, fitted with molded leather boots, came to a slow pause as he enjoyed the feeling of the summer sun. His dark skin never to be burnt by the beautiful but deadly warmth, the ranger halted as his subconscious alerted him of a possible danger.
Opening his eyes, he saw a more secure location, out of the open. As he moved, he searched the woods around him for any sign of the unseen other. Out here wasn't like a city, running into other people was rare with the paths he travelled. The other could simply be another ranger, but something told Ristaron that it was no friend.
Wary of remaining in one place for too long, Ristaron flitted along the shadows provided by the thick canopy, quiet as a ghost. Then, his keen ears heard a quiet whistling, growing fast. Reflexes saved Ristaron's life, as he leaned to the side, evading a thick spear that embedded itself into the tree beside the alert ranger.
Rapiers were in his hands faster than you could blink, and the agile ranger sprinted a few feet before leaping to the side, dodging a second spear. A third spear flew by a few feet away, and Ristaron was certain this would be an interesting day.
The thundering of many sets of feet echoed to his right, and Ristaron took a few steps back, getting his feet right and positioning himself. His arms were raised to the level of his shoulders, one elbow straight, holding one rapier flat facing the ground, pointing at the fast approaching foes. His other elbow was bent, holding the second rapier similarly but further back.
A moment later, three men burst through the thick foliage of the low bushes, heavy swords drawn and held at their side with both hands.

They paused as they considered their enemy, a single ranger. Talking briefly between themselves in a language barely recognizable to Ristaron, they stepped apart slightly to make a kite formation between them and the ranger. Ristaron looked one over, and his muscles tightened when he recognized the armour.
These were men of the Zaishen Order. Tightening the grip on his rapiers, he forced fear from his mind. Fear and primal fury. The Zaishen Order had fought a hundred years war against his people, the casualties on either side were concussive before a truce was drawn.
The Zaishen Order were zealots bent on elliminating enemies of Balthazar, a status they gave to whomever they pleased. The appearance of Ristaron's race had earned them it in this occasion.

"A long way from home, aren't you?" said the one in the middle. Ristaron's midnight eyes focused on him.
"I could say the same for you".
"Talk later", said the one to the right, "this piece of go-se has no right to be anywhere outside his filthy homeland." He spat, then took a step forward. Ristaron's trained eyes could see the weak points of their armour, which was made of bamboo.

With practiced timing, the Zaishen fighters set towards the ranger. Ristaron knew his only chance, and darted to between the middle-man and the one who had spat. His rapiers parried their attacks, and one found its place between the bamboo rungs, the length of the front of the blade cutting shallow into the Zaishen's skin. The ranger drew back, adding a slicing momentum to the sword, and it came back bloodied.
The middleman steadied himself and looked down at his abdomen, the gash was long, and relatively deep. If he didn't stop the bleeding soon, he would lose consciousness.
The other two Zaishen zealots were already making a second run, and Ristaron set himself into a complicated weaving pattern he had developped fighting Firstwatch Morgin of the Lionguard. Keeping his ground, the ranger focused on the silent Zaishen, who was put on his heels by the precision the ranger fought with. Using one blade to fight off each Zaishen, Ristaron was fighting fantastically. After a few moments, the ranger swayed to avoid a downward rend from the zealot who had spat, and whirled around to drive the hilt of one of his rapiers into the back of the Zaishen's head. The fighter fell to the ground, dazed, as Ristaron threw himself into a flurry of attacks that wore down the last zealot. Eager to finish the fight, Ristaron extended his elbows and tilted his upper torso. The ranger then twirled, forcing the Order warrior to parry his downward strikes. After two, the man was not fast enough to get the third.
But Ristaron would not kill unless he had to, and at the last minute straightened his wrist and stepped forward more so that instead of the blade slicing through the tendons in the man's shoulder, it was the pommel of the rapier that slammed into the Zaishen's collar.
Falling to his knees from the force of the strike, the warrior dropped his sword and fought to stay conscious. A second later, the hilt of the other rapier struck the back of his skull, putting him out like a light.

Ristaron looked up to see the first Zaishen has activated his signet ring, and watched as the rune's glow surrounded the fighter and restored some of his health.
A healing signet, of course, Ristaron sighed and returned to a ready posture. He watched as well the second zealot get up from the ground, out of his daze. His nerves were alive, making him tremble with excitement and apprehension. Ristaron had once been the finest bladesmaster of his village, but he could only stand so long against multiple trained opponents.

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997 words of story, lol.

Symeon · Jan 16, 2006, 06:06 PM // 18:06

Dang it I just posted a huge thing here, then it came up with 'cannot find server' (as so often happens on this forum), I tried to enter the thread again by bringing up the forum separately, accidentally exited the one where I had typed it, and found the huge load of writing had not even come up when I entered the thread again. What a waste of half an hour (yes, I did type that much)

Ristaron · Jan 16, 2006, 10:24 PM // 22:24

Damn... gonna try again? We need someone to reply with more story so people don't have to work so hard to think of a way to introduce themselves (like strolling out of the woods and asking why it's 3 vs. 1 isn't a good enough introduction...).

Symeon · Jan 17, 2006, 07:40 AM // 07:40

OOC: I made it so I was a ranger and I was kind of strolling along and then saw the fighting and jumped up to a high point and used kindle arrows+conjure flame, and fired at the Zaishen, giving a queue for you to 'say hi' to me

. But I'll try to repeat it (perhaps a little shorter) later today.

Ristaron · Jan 18, 2006, 04:23 AM // 04:23

**Waiting!

**

Symeon · Apr 03, 2006, 08:52 AM // 08:52

(OOC: Hey, Ristaron. I'm on my Spring Break - lots of time - and I've been looking back at this place, and...I haven't RPed in a while. I want to prove to myself that I still have creative writing skills

. Let's RP. Maybe we could just keep it to two, I don't know.)

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Mylena Swiftwind darted through the woods of North Kryta Province, her black hair tied in pigtails waving about and becoming more and more loose as she ran. Carrying her simple wooden flatbow in one arm, she leapt over bushes and ducked under low branches, heading through different copses and lines of trees and bushes that ran alongside the roads and paths. Whenever she travelled alone, Mylena always moved fast, and kept to trees and shadows, or anything else that would block her from the sight of others and give her a sense of security.

Mylena stopped abruptly and crouched down behind a bush. She had reached the end of a line of trees, and could see no other area nearby that would give her cover. Cursing under her breath, she counted to ten and then ran out into the open. The light of the afternoon sun pierced through a gap in the clouds, seemingly shining right on her and putting her on show to anything nearby that could see.

She shielded her eyes from the light and turned a corner, moving fast and staying low. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a copse of trees up ahead, and what she knew to be the beginnings of the Westerling Woods, stretching beyond the Ascalon Settlement and out into Nebo Terrace and the Cursed Lands.

As soon as she arrived within the area of trees, Mylena stopped and crouched down again. Placing her bow on the floor, she took her water pouch from her belt, and poured the cold water into her mouth. Being water cooled from the Bergen Hot Springs, it was extremely refreshing and was said to have the power to provide concentration and healing to fighters.

The ranger flicked her ears up as she heard the cries of men not far away. Suddenly alert, she placed the water pouch back on her belt and took up her bow. She scanned the area nearby, but could see no signs of men, so she began to move slowly along the edge of the woods, beside a hill that rose up over the Ascalon Settlement.

Hearing another cry, she strung an arrow to her bow and aimed through the trees, but still could see no form of life. The ranger decided to take a risk and started to run, sidestepping brambles and trees as she moved further into the Westerling Woods.

Mylena now saw that the hill beside the woods was becoming flatter, and a small beaten trail ran out of the trees and up onto a rocky ledge. She stepped out of the woods, and darted along the trail, all the while looking sideways at the woods. As she climbed higher her view of the trees became wider, and when she stopped to rest she could see the that the woods curved around to the south not far away.

At the moment the ranger reached the ledge, about five metres above the ground of the woods, another cry reached her ears. Scanning the trees, she suddenly saw a speck of movement. Then, all of a sudden, three fighting figures moved into clear view right at the edge of the woods.

Watching the fight for a few seconds, Mylena quickly established that two men in similar armour were fighting a dark skinned ranger with rapiers. The ranger made very quick movements with his blades, but to Mylena it seemed that he would not win the fight, and he was fighting in defence.

Naturally, Mylena had learnt to aid those who were fighting in defence and were lower in number to the opposition. By helping, she would make it a more even fight.

She crouched down and took a batch of arrows from her quiver. Kindling them together as she had been trained to do, the ends of the arrows caught alight within a few seconds. She put all but two arrows back into her quiver, and began to focus her mind on conjuring the power of the flame. Stretching her arms out and tensing her muscles, she created a great flame in her mind, and so that same flame spread around her, empowering her arrows.

The ranger observed the three figures down below closely as she strung the two arrows to her bow and took aim. She stood up fully, and waited for the opportune moment. As the two men wearing similar armour aprroached the rapier-wielding ranger, Mylena took one deep breath and aimed right for one of the attacking men's head.

She pulled the string back with great force and let it go quickly, watching the arrows fly down together. She strung another arrow to fire as a distracting shot to anything the man might try to do immediately after he was hit, and fired quickly. Looking down at the man howling in agony, she saw that both her arrows had hit, one at his chest and the other at the side of his neck. The arrows had sunk in, and his armour had caught alight, dealing great damage to him. The distracting shot hit his face, bringing another scream of pain and stopping him from activating his signet ring. Mylena strung another arrow and prepared to fire a power shot to finish the man off.

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(OOC: Long, I know...let's just do this and see how it goes.)

Ristaron · Apr 03, 2006, 11:20 PM // 23:20

(OOC: I was on spring break last week, but I'll do my best to keep up with both RPs I'm in now)

Stunned at the unexpected help, Ristaron was unprepared for the quick attack from the remaining Zaishen.
Twisting and letting instinct guide his reflex, the ranger managed to get one of his rapiers on this inside of the Zaishen's blade and draw it out. Ristaron knew his luck was probably spent for the rest of the year, barely avoiding that attack and recieving much-needed help from an unseen ally.
The remaining enemy was smart, and he continued around Ristaron until the ranger was sort of like a shield for him, the archer would not shoot with any risk of hitting the man she was trying to help.
But on even terms with the man, Ristaron needed no help. The Zaishen order had many capable fighters, but there were few in all the lands who could cross blades with the intrepid mountainfolk ranger.
The soldier of the Battle Isles came to realize this as his enemy defeated every attempt and spoiled every opportunity. Realizing he was completely outmatched, he resorted to a desperate tactic. Parrying a two-sword rend from the ranger, the Zaishen used the only advantage he had: the weight of his bamboo armour. He rammed into Ristaron hard enough to send the ranger stumbling back a few feet, and then turned to run.
A well-aimed arrow embedded itself into his calf the moment he was completely turned, crippling his movement.
Before he could get around to go down fighting, he felt the back of his neck grow hot and realized with horror that the darkening of his vision was nothing short of death taking hold.
He fell to the ground with a thud, never to get up again.

Panting from the combat, Ristaron bent over to keep his head clear as he regained his breath.
"Whoever you are", he called into the bushes, "I'd like to give my thanks to your face, rather than your shadow."

Symeon · Apr 04, 2006, 06:55 AM // 06:55

Mylena watched as her crippling shot forced the target down to the ground, struggling and moaning in pain before laying still. She smiled, satisfied, and looked to the ranger, who was regaining his breath.

At the other ranger's call, Mylena stood up fully and glanced at the steep hillside below her. She was roughly five metres above the ground below. Taking note of a thick tree root sticking out from the hill about two metres down, she adjusted her quiver so that it was comfortable, and jumped, stretching out her free hand.

With a snap, she caught the root with her free hand, and swung for a few moments. Then she jumped again and spun around, landing in a crouching position with her bow held out in front of her.

"I have never seen a ranger so good with blades," she said, standing up and looking the man over. "Your skin colour is not one I recognise. Are you from one of the far southern lands?"

NinjaKai · Apr 04, 2006, 12:17 PM // 12:17

(OOC: I've read a bit of the first post. I plan to join once i've read the rest so I can start somewhere appropriate.)

Edit: I've begun writing my entrance. It will be done shortly.

Second Edit: Stuff

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Two Zaishen one a warrior the other a mage, stay knelt only achres from Mylena or Ristaron planning to avenge their fallen comrades.
When suddenly a stranger woven from cloth made for traveling. Yet the green and gold ornate design the clothing was foreign to this land. In his right hand he held a staff of two twisted dragons with jeweled eyes.
"I've been away for so long. Yet things have not changed. The Zaishen are as pathetic as ever." The ornately dressed traveler said with a glare in his eyes.

"He'll spoil our plans. Kill him." The mage spoke. The warrior glowed briefly with an yellow aura as he swiftly ran at the traveler. The warrior moved his shield in front of him and his sword behind preparing to swing. The traveler looked into the warriors eyes as the warrior was flung backwards into a tree. The warrior hit the tree with a thump as his bamboo armor along his back broke digging into his skin, he fell slowly to the floor wounded from the impacted. His shield in shattered peices of wood, his sword implanted into the ground.
"Impossible...What are you?" The mage said in anger.
"Elementalists draw their magic from the world around them. Mesmers magic can effect the very world around you." The traveler spoke once more.

The mage floated into the sky surrounded by a blue aura as she prepared her spell. The traveler raised his staff as a pink aura surrounded him, glyphs formed around mage shocking her creating great pain. As the glyphs disappeared so did the blue aura that surrounded the mage, her magic interrupted as she started her desent to the ground. The traveler stared at the mage falling, the mages speed increased as she fell to the ground breaking her bones.

The traveler picked up the warriors sword and walked over to the mage who was concious but unable to move.
"Say hello to Grenth for me." The traveler said as he swung the sword at the mage. A terrified echo swept through the area. The traveler dropped the blood soaked sword and walked to where Ristaron and Mylena we're curious as to who these strangers we're

(OOC: If your curious the skill that threw the warrior was Psychic Distraction and Psychic Instability. They are two new factions skills given a little RP creativity.)

Ristaron · Apr 05, 2006, 12:09 AM // 00:09

Ristaron gave a quick lookover of the female ranger as she approached. His midnight blue eyes flicking so quickly that she wouldn't have noticed had she been watching.
"I've never seen a ranger so good with blades", she commented, "are you from one of the far southern lands?"
"More South than here", Ristaron answered before slipping into a courteous bow. "My thanks to you for your well-timed aid. I am Ristaron. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting here on this peaceful day?"

(OOC: I did not go far in the timeline with this post, I wanted to leave your introduction up to you, Symeon, and then perhaps NinjaKai's character could enter after that.)

Symeon · Apr 05, 2006, 07:04 AM // 07:04

Mylena bowed with her bow still held in one hand. "I am Mylena Swiftwind, from Ascalon. It was a pleasure to help."

She stepped towards one of the dead bodies, and kicked it over so that the front was facing upwards. Kneeling down, she looked closely at the armour. After about ten seconds she stood up, frowning.

"I don't recognise the armour of these fighters. The symbols on them are surely Balthazar-related, but they do not look to be from Tyria. I have heard of battle-worshipping clans and orders who dwell on islands far across the southern sea. Perhaps...."

Sounds of movement in the trees made her look up quickly. The ranger watched as two figures jumped out of a bush, and another figure obscured in the shade moved towards the other two. One of them spoke, and suddenly a yellow light flashed from one of the figures. The aura created lit up the scene, showing two fighters clearly wearing the same armour as the ones Mylena and Ristaron had just killed. But the aura was quickly extinguished as the fighter was thrown against the tree.

"Impossible...what are you?" shouted the other fighter.
A reply came from the other figure, who was still obscured, but Mylena could not hear what was said. Following this, a bright blue aura came up around the fighter. Soon afterwards, a pink aura appeared around the other figure, lighting him up. He wore strange green and gold ornate clothing and a staff that looked like two miniature dragons twisted together.
The sounds of magical interruption filled the air, and the blue aura of the fighter went out. The strangely dressed man moved out of his own aura, and took up a sword from one of the fighters.
"Say hello to Grenth for me," he said, swinging the sword into the body of one of the fighters. He then dropped the sword and moved over to where Mylena and Ristaron were standing.

(OOC: NinjaKai, you're free to introduce yourself now

)

NinjaKai · Apr 05, 2006, 07:44 AM // 07:44

The traveler walked upto Ristaron and Mylena stopping not far from them. He examined their appearance closely.
He then drew his attention to Ristaron.
"The Zaishen must really hate you to track you so far."
He said in a questioning tone.
"Where are my manners. My name is Nekra Vaharo."
Nekra said as he tilted his torso forward slighty in a humble bow.

Ristaron · Apr 06, 2006, 01:49 AM // 01:49

"I am Ristaron", the ranger replied politely, bowing his head slightly out of courtesy. "And they were not tracking me", he added as he glanced briefly at one of the bodies, "I would have known it many miles back."

NinjaKai · Apr 06, 2006, 04:06 AM // 04:06

"So you simply stumbled into them like I did. Since when do the Zaishen travel so far from their isles." Nekra in a contemplating tone. "Much has changed since I traveled far from this part of Tyria."

Symeon · Apr 06, 2006, 07:54 AM // 07:54

(OOC:

Quote:

Originally Posted by NinjaKai

"Isn't this a curious sight. What is a Canthan doing so far from home?"
The traveler said as he stared at her armor.

Quote:

Originally Posted by King Symeon

"I am Mylena Swiftwind, from Ascalon."

/OOC)

Mylena bowed her head. "I am Mylena Swiftwind. So these are Zaishen, are they? Of the Battle Isles? Fighters of Balthazar?"

She looked at one of the dead bodies again. Then she turned to Nekra. "How many more did you kill over there in the trees? From the looks of it, there were two, a warrior and a mage. Correct?"

NinjaKai · Apr 06, 2006, 08:53 AM // 08:53

"I killed 4 more before I came across the other two. I guess they didn't know mesmer spells pass through armor." Nekra said to Mylena. "So Mylena tell me. What brings you so far into these woods?" Nekra asked out of curiosity. "To travel the seared lands of Ascalon, over the icy Shiverpeaks and through the swamp filled forests of Kryta. The is a curiously long distance even for rangers."

(OOC: Problem corrected)

Symeon · Apr 07, 2006, 04:54 PM // 16:54

"My thirst for adventure brought me here," replied Mylena. "The ruined lands of Ascalon have nothing to offer a hard-trained fighter like me. The stone elementals, gargoyles and Charr die so fast by my flame-powered bow, it simply is not rewarding to kill them, no matter how many of them there are. So, when I heard Prince Rurik's call for the people of Ascalon to follow him across the Shiverpeaks to Kryta for a better life, I decided the time was right for me to make a move." She paused to think, then continued. "It was not so much for the offer of a better life that I came along, but because I saw adventures open to me on the way across and on the other side of the mountains. I fought along with other adventurers to free up the mountain passes so that the refugees of Ascalon could travel across. The Stone Summit dwarves were not much of a challenge in my eyes, and neither are the undead or the various creatures that inhabit Kryta. I am still looking for challenging adventures even now."

Mylena smiled and looked down at the bodies of the dead Zaishen again. "What do you think these far southern islanders are doing here? Whatever their purpose, I am inclined to think it is not a good one." She turned thoughtfully to Ristaron. "Do you have any idea why these Zaishen attacked you?"

Ristaron · Apr 07, 2006, 09:10 PM // 21:10

"My people and the Zaishen", Ristaron began, "warred for decades in the early days of both nations. Though open warfare is no longer persued by either side, there is still hate and emnity between our peoples. They were either defending themselves, or seeking to avenge fallen ancestors." The ranger glared down on the body of one of the Zaishen. It disgusted him. Not the death, but how he revelled in the fact the man was dead.
Tearing his midnight eyes away from the fallen warrior, Ristaron looked over to the mesmer.
"Nekra", he said his name slowly, "you seem different from others of your trade. At least, those from Tyria..."

NinjaKai · Apr 07, 2006, 09:32 PM // 21:32

"Allow me to explain. Two years ago not long after the searing, my homeland was destroyed and sunk beneath the waves. Of course you know of where I speak, the region of Orr. At the time I was at Ascalon visiting an old friend. It was only when I returned that I discovered the damaged landscape where ocean and land met in unnatural proportion. With my home gone, my people scattered or turned undead. I had no links worth keeping me in that part of Tyria. So I traveled to the continent of Cantha were I learned many new things such as magics not known to this part of Tyria. As far as being different from other mesmers, I was born in Orr a place where magic was highly practiced. So my magic ability is bound to be higher with such a rich source of knowledge at my displosal. For a time I was the keeper of knowledge. My reason for coming back is because i've been following up rumors of a recently unearthed tomb and if it's the one I assume it to be. Then it might just be the place that holds the weapon i've been looking for all these years. A legendary artefact forged in time beyond measure by the ancestors of Orr, but hidden for its frightening side effects." Nekra said with both passion nad sorrow intertwined within his voice.

Symeon · Apr 08, 2006, 08:54 PM // 20:54

Mylena listened to the other two speak. She was enthralled by Nekra's story. It made her think about what new fighting skills she could accquire in other lands. His mention of the unearthed tomb and the artifact caught her attention.

"What tomb might that be? The Tomb of the Primeval Kings, perhaps? I have never been to the place, but have heard of it from many other experienced fighters."