When Kamar yelled his response to Orion he realized that Dennison did not fully understand him yet. However this was expected; few could understand what went on in his head. Instead of replying he watched the hunter make his jump to the rooftop. He was genuinely impressed--he had never considered such a feat in his realm of possiblities, yet it was remarkably simple once thought-through. Orion quickly turned into the alley to follow Lanya and her unknown benefactor. He was heavy with equipment and could not possibly race after them in the open, but through a crowded street it was possible for him to keep up.
He broke out in a sprint, his legs thick with muscle pushing him forward in leaps. He was only as fast as a very fit man, but his strength allowed him to bear the weight of his armor with no loss of speed. Orion clutched his gun in his hands and charged the pair.
Searching the Streets
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Lanya Caliope
- Fugitive
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Thu Jun 16, 2005 12:49 am
- Race: Human
It was too good to be true. It had to be. The odds that after all this time, she'd found a logical, sensible person who actually thought their actions through and understood that consequences had a real effect on the world around them...could it be that she's actually managed to find a real live fellow human?
She veered her course to follow him down the alley. It would be foolish and prideful to fight the suggestion, especially if what he said was correct.
Thank you thank you thank you, she thought to whatever benevolent god had bestowed a spot of good luck upon her. But luck could only take them so far; even now, the clank of a fully armed guard echoed from behind them. She panicked inside, wondering if his presence meant anything permanent for Wolfhound, but survival was key right now, so she pushed her worries aside and raced on.
Just ahead, the street bloomed into open territory filled with pedestrians and witnesses, a natural check on heightened violence. She couldn't stop one sob of relief, but they weren't there yet. Only a few more feet!...and then she would get the knife out of her little wooden robin, and he would live again!...
For all her logic and reason, she still clung to the hope that her bird might sing again. She had to cling to something.
She veered her course to follow him down the alley. It would be foolish and prideful to fight the suggestion, especially if what he said was correct.
Thank you thank you thank you, she thought to whatever benevolent god had bestowed a spot of good luck upon her. But luck could only take them so far; even now, the clank of a fully armed guard echoed from behind them. She panicked inside, wondering if his presence meant anything permanent for Wolfhound, but survival was key right now, so she pushed her worries aside and raced on.
Just ahead, the street bloomed into open territory filled with pedestrians and witnesses, a natural check on heightened violence. She couldn't stop one sob of relief, but they weren't there yet. Only a few more feet!...and then she would get the knife out of her little wooden robin, and he would live again!...
For all her logic and reason, she still clung to the hope that her bird might sing again. She had to cling to something.
She had followed, their feet barely touching the ground as they ran. Honestly, Lucian was surprised, even as he leaned forward into his sprint. Perhaps it was because she was so distraught, not thinking clearly- or maybe she really trusted him. Maybe she didn't have a choice.
Did it matter?
As they ran, Lucian took every opportunity to pull down the stacks of rubbish that lined the sides of the alley, spilling them over the path behind them to trip up and slow down pursuit. A tactic that he had employed many times in his youth. He sub-consciously grinned, remembering fleeing from a screaming market place, ducking in and out of the crowds.
Back then, though, his flight had never been so obvious to men of such power.
And then they burst free of the alley, nearly colliding with the bustling traffic that was now something of a scattering mob, the people all hurriedly going to seek whatever shelter they could find. The cobblestones were lightly wetted in the light precipitation that promised to get worse soon, making them a trifle slippery as Lucian dug in and changed direction, sprinting north on Main. He squinted through the rain flying in his eyes, trying to see.
About a hundred meters further up the road, the buildings stopped and he could see the vague shaping of the dark, wooden bridge that spanned the river separating the city and the woods.
A sharp smell abruptly assaulted Lucian's senses as he and the woman rushed by a man, apparently a spice vendor, frantically trying to pull tarps around his cart which was full of glass and mason jars. One such jar at the edge of the cart was uncovered, it's lid lying next to it (perhaps for the very purpose of catching the passerby's attention), emitting an almost painful zest into the air.
His mind flared with an idea, and the gypsy slowed just enough to snatch the jar, the vendor not even noticing in his bustle, before again picking up his sprint to catch back up with the woman who had not slowed.
The open jar was clutched firmly in his hand, it's aroma nearly making his eyes water, and Lucian grinned. Such a spice could- in the immediate future- prove useful.
And the flight continued.
Did it matter?
As they ran, Lucian took every opportunity to pull down the stacks of rubbish that lined the sides of the alley, spilling them over the path behind them to trip up and slow down pursuit. A tactic that he had employed many times in his youth. He sub-consciously grinned, remembering fleeing from a screaming market place, ducking in and out of the crowds.
Back then, though, his flight had never been so obvious to men of such power.
And then they burst free of the alley, nearly colliding with the bustling traffic that was now something of a scattering mob, the people all hurriedly going to seek whatever shelter they could find. The cobblestones were lightly wetted in the light precipitation that promised to get worse soon, making them a trifle slippery as Lucian dug in and changed direction, sprinting north on Main. He squinted through the rain flying in his eyes, trying to see.
About a hundred meters further up the road, the buildings stopped and he could see the vague shaping of the dark, wooden bridge that spanned the river separating the city and the woods.
A sharp smell abruptly assaulted Lucian's senses as he and the woman rushed by a man, apparently a spice vendor, frantically trying to pull tarps around his cart which was full of glass and mason jars. One such jar at the edge of the cart was uncovered, it's lid lying next to it (perhaps for the very purpose of catching the passerby's attention), emitting an almost painful zest into the air.
His mind flared with an idea, and the gypsy slowed just enough to snatch the jar, the vendor not even noticing in his bustle, before again picking up his sprint to catch back up with the woman who had not slowed.
The open jar was clutched firmly in his hand, it's aroma nearly making his eyes water, and Lucian grinned. Such a spice could- in the immediate future- prove useful.
And the flight continued.
Yar, says I.
Wolfhound spun, trying to avoid the thugs thrust, but because of their close proximity to one another it was impossible to fulyl miss the blow. Only his enhanced speed allowed him to miss death. The blade tore through his side, the edge just deep in enough to scrape the bone. Ignoring the pain, for now, something wolves had an inate ability to do for periods long enough to conclude a fight, he slashed his left dagger at the Thugs throat, whilst secretly shoved his right hand dagger at the Thugs back, it was aimed right so unless the thug miraculassly dodged it would pierce his spinal cor, imobilising him and hopefully killing him.
After having made his blows he jumped back, panting as he regained his breath, the wound at his side throbbing with pain. Luckily his wilf's blood meant it would heal slightly faster than a humans, the intertwined with his DNA helped too, slightly. However it would still be a long time coming before it was fully healed. Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the thug in case he moved, he ripped his shirt off and created a makeshift bandage by tieing around his waist.
After having made his blows he jumped back, panting as he regained his breath, the wound at his side throbbing with pain. Luckily his wilf's blood meant it would heal slightly faster than a humans, the intertwined with his DNA helped too, slightly. However it would still be a long time coming before it was fully healed. Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the thug in case he moved, he ripped his shirt off and created a makeshift bandage by tieing around his waist.
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Kamar Deythal
- Citizen
- Posts: 333
- Joined: Sat Apr 08, 2006 7:52 pm
- Name: Kamar Deythal
- Race: Half-elf
Death of a Thug
Women screamed, children cried, and men began to shout for guards as the shock of the sudden violence in their midst wore off. The crowd suddenly dispersed, many running from the fight as the skies opened.
The thug stared, blinking, at where Wolfhound used to be. He knew he had got a hit, but he hadn't expected that much blood. It was pumping out. Wolfhound took a step back, and then the thug realized; it was his own blood. He brought a hand up to his throat to stem the flow, the knife falling from nearly nerveless fingers. He slumped forward from the second blow to the back, unable to hold himself up as his life continued to flow from the fatal wound caused by Wolfhound's first attack.
Several men came forward to assist the seemingly innocent citizen that this ... creature ... had attacked in the middle of the street, but seemed reluctant to come much closer than a couple dozen feet. The cry for assistance from the Marn City Guard continued to be heard up and down the street.
The thug stared, blinking, at where Wolfhound used to be. He knew he had got a hit, but he hadn't expected that much blood. It was pumping out. Wolfhound took a step back, and then the thug realized; it was his own blood. He brought a hand up to his throat to stem the flow, the knife falling from nearly nerveless fingers. He slumped forward from the second blow to the back, unable to hold himself up as his life continued to flow from the fatal wound caused by Wolfhound's first attack.
Several men came forward to assist the seemingly innocent citizen that this ... creature ... had attacked in the middle of the street, but seemed reluctant to come much closer than a couple dozen feet. The cry for assistance from the Marn City Guard continued to be heard up and down the street.
You’re gonna find out you’re already dead, and I was the world coming down on your head.
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Camulous Smithson
- Guardsman
- Posts: 209
- Joined: Fri Jun 24, 2005 12:59 am
- Name: Camulous Smithson
- Race: Human
Camulous, determined to find out where the three had gone, began moving eastward and noticed one man who had come forward. Upon seeing the captain's hurried search, the man offered everything he knew, which wasn't much. He talked about a chase involving a beast and some guardsmen.
"Which way!?" He forcefully interrupted the man, not caring about any more of the details.
The man pointed in the direction of the sides streets, but before Camulous could start moving something caught his eye up ahead on Main. Two figures running. A flash of red hair. It was the witch, and she was with someone else.
Without hesitation he kicked the sides of his horse and galloped toward them. There were a lot of people crowding the street in his way, but thankfully most of them were smart enough to make room long before his horse came barreling through. Those who didn't were rewarded with a minimal effort on Camulous' part to avoid trampling them.
He kept his eyes open for Dennison and Orion who he expected to be in close pursuit, but also for the wolfman. That creature was literally and figuratively the biggest immediate threat, and one he didn't intend to pass off to Lucas.
"Which way!?" He forcefully interrupted the man, not caring about any more of the details.
The man pointed in the direction of the sides streets, but before Camulous could start moving something caught his eye up ahead on Main. Two figures running. A flash of red hair. It was the witch, and she was with someone else.
Without hesitation he kicked the sides of his horse and galloped toward them. There were a lot of people crowding the street in his way, but thankfully most of them were smart enough to make room long before his horse came barreling through. Those who didn't were rewarded with a minimal effort on Camulous' part to avoid trampling them.
He kept his eyes open for Dennison and Orion who he expected to be in close pursuit, but also for the wolfman. That creature was literally and figuratively the biggest immediate threat, and one he didn't intend to pass off to Lucas.
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Lucas Hild
- Battlemage
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 2:34 am
Lucas was continuing to play the role of the secondary guardsman. He too had been watching ahead of where they were going and he too had spotted the two figures racing to escape whoever was in pursuit. This was definitely a boon. If they possessed the quarry, the hunter would then have to come to them.
On horseback they could catch up to them in no time. Kicking his horse hard he actually managed to take off a split second sooner than Camulous. He did come dangerously close to trampling a few people. His voice barked "Out of the way!" several times as they closed on the fleeing pair.
He needed a clearer view of where they were going. He hated doing this on horseback. The horse was such a clumsy jostling beast. If they got near enough he could slow them down, and possibly stop them completely. He still had to remind himself that these two were not the target. That would be too easy.
On horseback they could catch up to them in no time. Kicking his horse hard he actually managed to take off a split second sooner than Camulous. He did come dangerously close to trampling a few people. His voice barked "Out of the way!" several times as they closed on the fleeing pair.
He needed a clearer view of where they were going. He hated doing this on horseback. The horse was such a clumsy jostling beast. If they got near enough he could slow them down, and possibly stop them completely. He still had to remind himself that these two were not the target. That would be too easy.
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Kamar Deythal
- Citizen
- Posts: 333
- Joined: Sat Apr 08, 2006 7:52 pm
- Name: Kamar Deythal
- Race: Half-elf
Kamar raced as fast as he could across the slanted rooftops, moving faster across the flat spaces, leaping down and back up, across alleys and small gaps. He leapt directly over Lucian and Lanya as they raced down the alley he had seen them enter, nothing more than a shadow in the dim light.
Kamar smiled knowingly to himself as he angled to cut the two off on Main Street. He skidded slightly as the rain began wetting the tiled roofs, but maintained his balance. This wasn't the first time he had given chase, or been chased, across rooftops in similar weather.
The clouds seemed content to simply drizzle, though the occasional flash of lightning and clap of thunder from the clouds massed on the southern horizon promised more than any mere sprinkle.
As Kamar sprinted across a flat roof, he glanced quickly over his shoulder, just in time to see Lucian and Lanya come out of the alley and head north. Another smile flitted across his face; he had guessed correctly, and they were moving fast towards the bridge and out of town.
Kamar paused, hunkering down in the shadow of the edge of the building, out of sight. He quickly looked over everything in the surrounding area, noting anything that might help him gain an advantage over the situation.
Grappling hook to the building across the street. Barrels in the alleyway below me. Staircase into the alley from the back of this building. Window in the warehouse on the other side of the alley. These thoughts and more flickered through his thoughts even as he observed.
A new sound made it's presence known to Kamar. The drum of hooved feet racing up Main Street towards his position. He risked a peek over the edge of the building, noting quickly that Lanya and Lucian were a mere hundred yards from him. With a curse, he also noticed the Captain and another guardsmen racing to catch up on horseback, nearly trampling citizens in the process. At the speed they were going, they would catch Lucian and Lanya before they could reach his own position.
Kamar closed his eyes in aggravation, allowing himself a moment's indulgence in irritation. When his eyes opened again, he was all business. He stood and raced back the way he had come, careful to remain out of view of those he sought on the streets below. He moved towards the edge as the sound of running feet came closer, his own running feet barely heard as the thick slippers dulled the thudding.
Gauging the distance between himself and Lanya, and without losing step as he took aim, Kamar leapt at her from the rooftop.
Again, we shall let the fates decide, he thought, not without a sense of irony.
Kamar smiled knowingly to himself as he angled to cut the two off on Main Street. He skidded slightly as the rain began wetting the tiled roofs, but maintained his balance. This wasn't the first time he had given chase, or been chased, across rooftops in similar weather.
The clouds seemed content to simply drizzle, though the occasional flash of lightning and clap of thunder from the clouds massed on the southern horizon promised more than any mere sprinkle.
As Kamar sprinted across a flat roof, he glanced quickly over his shoulder, just in time to see Lucian and Lanya come out of the alley and head north. Another smile flitted across his face; he had guessed correctly, and they were moving fast towards the bridge and out of town.
Kamar paused, hunkering down in the shadow of the edge of the building, out of sight. He quickly looked over everything in the surrounding area, noting anything that might help him gain an advantage over the situation.
Grappling hook to the building across the street. Barrels in the alleyway below me. Staircase into the alley from the back of this building. Window in the warehouse on the other side of the alley. These thoughts and more flickered through his thoughts even as he observed.
A new sound made it's presence known to Kamar. The drum of hooved feet racing up Main Street towards his position. He risked a peek over the edge of the building, noting quickly that Lanya and Lucian were a mere hundred yards from him. With a curse, he also noticed the Captain and another guardsmen racing to catch up on horseback, nearly trampling citizens in the process. At the speed they were going, they would catch Lucian and Lanya before they could reach his own position.
Kamar closed his eyes in aggravation, allowing himself a moment's indulgence in irritation. When his eyes opened again, he was all business. He stood and raced back the way he had come, careful to remain out of view of those he sought on the streets below. He moved towards the edge as the sound of running feet came closer, his own running feet barely heard as the thick slippers dulled the thudding.
Gauging the distance between himself and Lanya, and without losing step as he took aim, Kamar leapt at her from the rooftop.
Again, we shall let the fates decide, he thought, not without a sense of irony.
You’re gonna find out you’re already dead, and I was the world coming down on your head.
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Anonymous
Somewhere during the chase, rain began to drop. Orion's boots had no problem gripping the slightly wet pavement and he revelled in the cooling provided by the drizzle. Something about the moment was perfect to Orion. There were distant rumbles of thunder, flashes of lightning caught in the corner of his eyes. Now from that same corner Orion saw something flash towards Lanya from the top of a roof.
The naked blade clutched in his right hand, Orion smiled as he burst into a final sprint toward the pair.
The naked blade clutched in his right hand, Orion smiled as he burst into a final sprint toward the pair.
Having delt with the thug, Wolfhound set to work finding Lanya, or, to be more specific - her scent. The pain in his side was subsiding, it would come back in full force when he turned back into his normal, human form but untill then it shouldn't bother him too much if he had to fight. His head snapped to the direction of Lanya. Without hesitating he lept into the air.
He landed on a small, low roof. From there he could make his way on to the higher ones, but nonetheless going straght across the rooftops was faster than running around streets. He began, almost a blur, leaping across the small gaps inbetween buildings and running full pelt across them untill he was about a block away. Two scents...colliding. He couldn't tell for sure at this distance, but Lanya, and the assassin.Shit Picking up the pace he opaced the last block faster than he ever had before, or at least, it felt that way. Having reached Lanya's position he glanced down to gauge the situation and decide on his tactics.
He landed on a small, low roof. From there he could make his way on to the higher ones, but nonetheless going straght across the rooftops was faster than running around streets. He began, almost a blur, leaping across the small gaps inbetween buildings and running full pelt across them untill he was about a block away. Two scents...colliding. He couldn't tell for sure at this distance, but Lanya, and the assassin.Shit Picking up the pace he opaced the last block faster than he ever had before, or at least, it felt that way. Having reached Lanya's position he glanced down to gauge the situation and decide on his tactics.
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Lanya Caliope
- Fugitive
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Thu Jun 16, 2005 12:49 am
- Race: Human
There was a wonderful holiday, back home. It consisted of giving gifts to everyone, one to each, and then celebrating the community with a great feast at the end of the day. The longing within her for that sense of community had never left, and her best efforts always led her to yet another travelling companion. She'd been alone once during the start of her wandering, and this had lasted mere months before the first in a long stream of never-ending companions joined her life. She'd forgotten what it was like to travel alone, and then the dryad's murderous companions drove that last companion away.
No, that wasn't fair. It was the little girl's murder that snapped the thinning thread of attachment between herself and the younger woman. Lanya couldn't stand to look at the dryad, some days, and had taken her belongings and left the other behind one day. It had been the most difficult, liberating choice she'd made, and she'd thought to leave the physical manifestation of her guilt behind. The little girl's death wasn't her fault, for God's sake. It wasn't.
But someone thought it was. Someone hated her enough to hire a trained killer, and have her tracked through the filthy, slickening streets of this unfamiliar town. Someone wanted nothing more than the satisfaction of her death. And worse, that trained killer was a killer with inhuman skills. His shadowplay was enough to show her that.
She'd never thought she had a chance, really. She was surprised she was still alive; she expected him to leap into their path any moment, from behind any vendor or street walker, and laugh as his invisible weapon impaled her on her own momentum. Her nonlinear thoughts once again led her down a story's path, as she envisioned her ignoble death in the middle of this grimy street, while pedestrians pressed their curious faces in close to see who the stranger dying in the road was.
But she snapped back to reality as she realized they were almost to the bridge. Tired and worn as she was, a burst of energy hit her, and she splashed on through the growing puddles in the cobblestones as hope once again filled her mind. She wanted to live, and somehow, someway, reaching those woods meant her salvation. Surely, they could make it now (though she'd lost sight of her new companion). Surely, in just a few more seconds, a mere minute at best, they would burst into nature and Flame -
She noticed the dimmed shadow of a large mass only a moment before a solid object rammed into her and threw her entire world sideways. As she tumbled and fell, screaming in shock and pain, her father's face peered down at her through her memories, chastising her mental person with a mocking smile. Never rejoice in what you have until you have it.
Flame was gone, flung from her hands as they shot out in a last-second attempt to stay upright before she flopped toward the ground. The haze of pain and the complete disorientation of her sudden prone pose left her reeling. She registered the crowd's noises, and the ever-growing sound of horses, and once again lamented on the pitiable state of her wardrobe. She even indulged in a moment's feminine distress at a white, soggy shirt being her one barrier to provide modesty. But what gripped her as she rose from the haze, again, was terror. She recognized him, piece by piece. And when she blinked to clear her eyes, it wasn't the gentle warm hills of a new stranger's eyes she recognized. It was the cold ocean water of her own death.
She didn't want to die. Not here, covered in filth, weak and helpless and in pain. She refused, defying the logic in her brain that this battle was over. Years of older brothers tackling her kicked in. She wasn't a fighter, not in the trained way, but she knew how to writhe and squirm. She screamed at the highest ear-piercer she could manage. She flailed. She tried kicking. And if she could manage to get an arm out from underneath his mass, his face would soon meet her fingernails.
No, that wasn't fair. It was the little girl's murder that snapped the thinning thread of attachment between herself and the younger woman. Lanya couldn't stand to look at the dryad, some days, and had taken her belongings and left the other behind one day. It had been the most difficult, liberating choice she'd made, and she'd thought to leave the physical manifestation of her guilt behind. The little girl's death wasn't her fault, for God's sake. It wasn't.
But someone thought it was. Someone hated her enough to hire a trained killer, and have her tracked through the filthy, slickening streets of this unfamiliar town. Someone wanted nothing more than the satisfaction of her death. And worse, that trained killer was a killer with inhuman skills. His shadowplay was enough to show her that.
She'd never thought she had a chance, really. She was surprised she was still alive; she expected him to leap into their path any moment, from behind any vendor or street walker, and laugh as his invisible weapon impaled her on her own momentum. Her nonlinear thoughts once again led her down a story's path, as she envisioned her ignoble death in the middle of this grimy street, while pedestrians pressed their curious faces in close to see who the stranger dying in the road was.
But she snapped back to reality as she realized they were almost to the bridge. Tired and worn as she was, a burst of energy hit her, and she splashed on through the growing puddles in the cobblestones as hope once again filled her mind. She wanted to live, and somehow, someway, reaching those woods meant her salvation. Surely, they could make it now (though she'd lost sight of her new companion). Surely, in just a few more seconds, a mere minute at best, they would burst into nature and Flame -
She noticed the dimmed shadow of a large mass only a moment before a solid object rammed into her and threw her entire world sideways. As she tumbled and fell, screaming in shock and pain, her father's face peered down at her through her memories, chastising her mental person with a mocking smile. Never rejoice in what you have until you have it.
Flame was gone, flung from her hands as they shot out in a last-second attempt to stay upright before she flopped toward the ground. The haze of pain and the complete disorientation of her sudden prone pose left her reeling. She registered the crowd's noises, and the ever-growing sound of horses, and once again lamented on the pitiable state of her wardrobe. She even indulged in a moment's feminine distress at a white, soggy shirt being her one barrier to provide modesty. But what gripped her as she rose from the haze, again, was terror. She recognized him, piece by piece. And when she blinked to clear her eyes, it wasn't the gentle warm hills of a new stranger's eyes she recognized. It was the cold ocean water of her own death.
She didn't want to die. Not here, covered in filth, weak and helpless and in pain. She refused, defying the logic in her brain that this battle was over. Years of older brothers tackling her kicked in. She wasn't a fighter, not in the trained way, but she knew how to writhe and squirm. She screamed at the highest ear-piercer she could manage. She flailed. She tried kicking. And if she could manage to get an arm out from underneath his mass, his face would soon meet her fingernails.
One moment, they were running side-by-side, the bridge and looming forest beyond in sight, almost within reach. He had felt the surge of energy from her as she redoubled her speed, and he felt his eagerness grow to match her's and pressed himself harder-
And then in one, dooming second, he felt as though the sun had been extinguished forever and the earth had ceased to breathe-
Just as a fell shadow flew from the rooftops, just barely catching it out of the corner of his eye, and dropped on the woman like death itself. It happened so quickly, so blurringly fast, that the gypsy might have doubted the reality of what he saw had he not FELT the desperation and fear- and the darkness of death.
He had been running so fast he skidded a couple meters before actually being able to effect a reversal of direction, even as he wondered why he was stopping. Whoever was after her had jumped off a rooftop - successfully - and violently brought her down. Such an opponent was not one to be trifled with. Lucian was free, was unopposed in his pathway to the bridge.
But when he turned and saw the pain and terror and despair and shock rolling off of her, it churned his stomach and filled him with anger. Anger that was hot, and that made it dangerous to him. When anger was hot, it used you, as opposed to when it was cold and could be used by you. He felt his jaw clench, and consciously decided in that split-second that what was happening was wicked, like everything about this city that stunk and made him despise its existence, he despised what was happening.
The attacker could draw a knife and finish her in a blink. They were grappling for control, he on top of her. Lucian took two quick steps toward them, drawing a handful of spice from the jar, not even sure what he was planning to do-
Until his deeply-sinewed leg swung through what seemed like a painfully slow arc, kick at the attacker's head with all the strength he possessed-
And cast the handful of spice at him, unconsciously deciding that whatever amount of the acrid stuff hit the woman would be fractional compared to the suffering experienced by the attacker.
Everything was about balance. Or chaos. Kripla'Kra allowed for both.
And then in one, dooming second, he felt as though the sun had been extinguished forever and the earth had ceased to breathe-
Just as a fell shadow flew from the rooftops, just barely catching it out of the corner of his eye, and dropped on the woman like death itself. It happened so quickly, so blurringly fast, that the gypsy might have doubted the reality of what he saw had he not FELT the desperation and fear- and the darkness of death.
He had been running so fast he skidded a couple meters before actually being able to effect a reversal of direction, even as he wondered why he was stopping. Whoever was after her had jumped off a rooftop - successfully - and violently brought her down. Such an opponent was not one to be trifled with. Lucian was free, was unopposed in his pathway to the bridge.
But when he turned and saw the pain and terror and despair and shock rolling off of her, it churned his stomach and filled him with anger. Anger that was hot, and that made it dangerous to him. When anger was hot, it used you, as opposed to when it was cold and could be used by you. He felt his jaw clench, and consciously decided in that split-second that what was happening was wicked, like everything about this city that stunk and made him despise its existence, he despised what was happening.
The attacker could draw a knife and finish her in a blink. They were grappling for control, he on top of her. Lucian took two quick steps toward them, drawing a handful of spice from the jar, not even sure what he was planning to do-
Until his deeply-sinewed leg swung through what seemed like a painfully slow arc, kick at the attacker's head with all the strength he possessed-
And cast the handful of spice at him, unconsciously deciding that whatever amount of the acrid stuff hit the woman would be fractional compared to the suffering experienced by the attacker.
Everything was about balance. Or chaos. Kripla'Kra allowed for both.
Last edited by Lucian on Thu Aug 17, 2006 10:53 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Yar, says I.
Wolfhound was never one for thinking tactics, but for some unknown reason this time he had decided to, only, that train of thought was interupted by the assassin jumping on the unwitting Lanya. Well seeing as thats out the window was all Wolfhound thought before his insticts kicked in. Leaping off the top of the roof a knife was drawn and ready to throw. He hit the ground rolling, coming up he threw his deadly metal weapon at an angle that meant if it missed it wouldn;t hit Lanya, that had been his primary reason for not throwing it whilst he was in the air.
With the knife thrown he ran, ignoring the other character who seemed to be helping Lanya he dove at Kamar, but at the last second hit of the ground, pivoting and changing his angle of attack. He hoped this would throw him off and allow Wolfhound to tackle Kamar off of Lanya and onto the ground. Hands and claws outstreched he flew at Kamar from the minute distance that he had changed his direction from.
With the knife thrown he ran, ignoring the other character who seemed to be helping Lanya he dove at Kamar, but at the last second hit of the ground, pivoting and changing his angle of attack. He hoped this would throw him off and allow Wolfhound to tackle Kamar off of Lanya and onto the ground. Hands and claws outstreched he flew at Kamar from the minute distance that he had changed his direction from.
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Lucas Hild
- Battlemage
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Tue Jul 25, 2006 2:34 am
Lucas could see the scene unfolding. It mattered little whether the witch died or not. He could see his own quarry making a move. The assassin would have to be very fast if he was going to escape regardless of whatever damage he managed to do in the meantime.
Lucas did not wait for his horse to stop or slow, charging in at nearly a full speed he bellowed very sharply one single word. "Stop."
Normally such a word would not hold much sway with anyone or anything who had other intentions but Lucas's phrasing, the force in his voice, the channeling of magic carried with it a very potent stun spell. The word seemed nearly deafening for an instant and in that same instant it was as if he'd grabbed the puppet strings in the mind of whoever had heard him and yanked. The desire to stop seemed to come from within, something which might have been as natural as the desire to sneeze. And yet it was wholly unnatural. It was not uncommon for Lucas's targets to later suffer headaches and slight bouts of nausea sometime afterward.
While he had made a conscientious effort to exclude Camulous and his mount from the effects of the stun, the effect tended to bleed away from the intended targets. As such Lucas had to jump up from his own horse as it suddenly jerked to a halt and faltered on its legs. He managed to avoid being trapped by the horse by throwing himself to the side, then rolling back to his feet but continuing to carry his momentum forward. The stun would not last long. Moments like this reminded Lucas that time was the enemy.
Lucas continued to race forward. He had to close with the assassin if he was to subdue him.
Lucas did not wait for his horse to stop or slow, charging in at nearly a full speed he bellowed very sharply one single word. "Stop."
Normally such a word would not hold much sway with anyone or anything who had other intentions but Lucas's phrasing, the force in his voice, the channeling of magic carried with it a very potent stun spell. The word seemed nearly deafening for an instant and in that same instant it was as if he'd grabbed the puppet strings in the mind of whoever had heard him and yanked. The desire to stop seemed to come from within, something which might have been as natural as the desire to sneeze. And yet it was wholly unnatural. It was not uncommon for Lucas's targets to later suffer headaches and slight bouts of nausea sometime afterward.
While he had made a conscientious effort to exclude Camulous and his mount from the effects of the stun, the effect tended to bleed away from the intended targets. As such Lucas had to jump up from his own horse as it suddenly jerked to a halt and faltered on its legs. He managed to avoid being trapped by the horse by throwing himself to the side, then rolling back to his feet but continuing to carry his momentum forward. The stun would not last long. Moments like this reminded Lucas that time was the enemy.
Lucas continued to race forward. He had to close with the assassin if he was to subdue him.
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Camulous Smithson
- Guardsman
- Posts: 209
- Joined: Fri Jun 24, 2005 12:59 am
- Name: Camulous Smithson
- Race: Human
Lucas beat Camulous to the punch, and good thing too. While it was the captain's job to order people to stop on a frequent basis, it generally had little to no effect on anyone but his men, and even they often failed to listen in the heat of combat. When Lucas charged ahead and yelled the word, and it had such a dazzling effect on everyone in the vicinity, Camulous wasted no time gawking at the results. People stood in the streets and stared, parked horses stopped chewing their oats, stray animals didn't do so much as pass wind...
The silence was like a sledgehammer, it was quite bizarre. For a full five seconds all Camulous could hear were the loud hoofbeats of his own horse. It was an insanely useful talent, he thought to himself. It was so perfect in helping his line of work that it would have blown his mind if he wasn't so determined to keep his mind un-blown.
There was one other drawback, aside from what happened to Lucas' horse. People stopped getting out of his way, just like they stopped everything else. He had to slow down to keep from trampling bystanders, but fortunately there was enough room down the middle of the road to get through. He kept his eyes locked on Dennison (Kamar) and the witch.
"She comes with me," he hollered, "along with anyone else who interferes!"
He had a strong suspicion that Dennison was going to kill her and run but with the wolfman involved it was hard to clearly make out what was happening. He didn't think much of the new man helping Lanya run, who he dismissed some peasant with good intentions and no clue.
The silence was like a sledgehammer, it was quite bizarre. For a full five seconds all Camulous could hear were the loud hoofbeats of his own horse. It was an insanely useful talent, he thought to himself. It was so perfect in helping his line of work that it would have blown his mind if he wasn't so determined to keep his mind un-blown.
There was one other drawback, aside from what happened to Lucas' horse. People stopped getting out of his way, just like they stopped everything else. He had to slow down to keep from trampling bystanders, but fortunately there was enough room down the middle of the road to get through. He kept his eyes locked on Dennison (Kamar) and the witch.
"She comes with me," he hollered, "along with anyone else who interferes!"
He had a strong suspicion that Dennison was going to kill her and run but with the wolfman involved it was hard to clearly make out what was happening. He didn't think much of the new man helping Lanya run, who he dismissed some peasant with good intentions and no clue.