The Rise of the Demons This is a chance to write from the perspective of the 'Bad Guys', and to generally have fun with it. Discussion Thread History The world is peaceful, the nations content to live and prosper with the never ending summer enveloping the planet. The Gods are powerful, directly keeping the demonic races in hiding, and Holy Knight Orders, each Order for a different God, patrol the world, rooting out evil where they go. Naturally, this is a very unpleasent time for the God of Chaos, or simply known as 'Phil'. Phil, beaten down and his armies decimated a few thousand years ago, was captured and kept in prison designed for deities for thousands of years, and suffered. Still, Phil was patient. His inactivity and lack of followers has degraded his form to a shrunken state, and this has lulled the gods into a false sense of safety. The locks on his prison, the very corners and edges of the spells, only had to dull slightly with the passing of time, and Phil could stealthily exert his powers. Able to call out and give orders at random times was the extent of his abilities, and with this he kept his gaze on the world, searching for the darkest, cruelest, most coniving creatures he could find. You are who he has summoned. Answer the call, and free Phil, the God of Chaos, from his prison! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The Game Your character has been summoned by Phil, the God of Chaos, to help aid in the quest to free him from his prison. Your character choices are constrained to a fantasy-genre, and can be pretty much anything inside of the fantasy-genre. Just remember to keep players powers balanced. The whole point of this game is to write from the bad guy's perspective, whether to have fun or to practice writing from the antagonist's perspective. To this end, every character needs to have a 'good guy' rival. Thus, the characters, the 'bad guy' group, is constantly fighting the 'good guy' group while trying to free Phil. Your rival will be named, and has to have a reason to be fighting your bad guy character. Remember, however, you are the bad guys, you don't always win. At the end of the day, the bad guys have their flaws, and the good guys will find a way to exploit those flaws. If the characters go after the 'Staff of Razgul', which will give them ultimate power, at the last moment the sneakiest good guy will come up and throw it off a mountain, into a pit of lava, stopping the bad guys. That is how it works. Alternately, the Bad Guys can also get some pretty boss stuff, just remember you don't always have to win. Good guys have to lose to teach them necessary character-building lessons. Phil will occasionally call out and give orders and/or a quest to the bad guys. You can't just waltz up to a hidden, heavily fortified prison and free a god from the most ancient imprisonment spells! You got to get the right stuff! RULES: 1) All general rules apply. 2) The goal is to free The God of Chaos from his prison. 3) No killing other characters or their personal rivals (will get more onto that in a moment) without permission. 4) The whole point is character interaction, try and stick in groups. 5) Don't write for other people unless they ask you to (In the Discussion Thread). 6) No god moding, all characters must be balanced, whether it is the main character or rival. 7) You can make unnamed Non-Player Characters (NPCs) if you want, but don't make named, and thus important, NPCs very often. 8) GM can make or break rules at will and without permission. 9) Write the NEXT part of the story. Avoid re-capping. Use showing in the present to respond to previous posts; avoid re-telling entire previous posts from your character’s perspective. 10) No super short posts. At least write a full paragraph or two. 11) No Out Of Character (OOC) discussions in this thread. All OOC conversations are to be held in the Discussion Thread. 12) If a character is absent for a while and you want to move the story along, PM the GM and ask if you can ask for the character to be 'removed'. By that, I mean Phil will make a portal and shove the character in with his magical powers, making the player absent. Players can just jump back into the game by posting again with a small explanation or story as per why Phil wanted you, and you can start playing again. 13. FLAMING, INSULTING, OR ANY OTHER TYPE OF HARSHNESS THAT IS DELIBERATELY USED TO HURT SOMEONE ELSE’S FEELINGS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED AT ALL, NOR ACCEPTED ANYWHERE ELSE AROUND THE FORUM. 14. Edit before posting. 15. View the Discussion Thread for less formal details and to direction in the game. 16. Dialogue from other characters should be put in BOLD type. 17. Put your character’s name in the title of your post. 18. More than one character is allowed but requires the permission of the GM. 19. Please feel welcome to make suggestions and negotiate with people in the Discussion thread. 20. You do not need permission from GM to make a character. Just post the template underneath in the discussion thread and start writing. Character Template: Name: Age: Gender: Appearance: Personality: History: Powers/Equiptment: Rival (Brief, paragraph-form character template): Discussion Thread Good luck, and have fun!
Character Template: Name: Ector Age: Sixty Five Gender: Male Appearance: Tall, Pale Translucent Skin, Black Cloak, Crimson Hair and Burning Maroon Eyes Personality: Cold, Intelligent, Haughty, Sarcastic History: Ector is a malevolent wizard who thrived in the dark times when Phil was at large, but after the war retreated to a far corner of theland to hide and practice his evil spells. Powers/Equipment: Summoning bolts of lightning, Levitating Objects, A Cursed Sword and Spellcasting Rival: Ibrahim the Knight from the Order of Litha, the Goddess of Nature. Ibrahim fought Ector in the war and caused him no end of strife, thwarting his plans at every turn. Age: Twenty Nine Gender: Male Appearance: Handsome, Raven Hair, Strong Chin, White Cloak and Gold Armor Personality: Heroic, Arrogant, Clever, Charming History: Joined the Order of Litha during the war and is completely dedicated to keeping the land safe. He always keeps an ear to the ground in case news of his old enemy, Ector, should arise. Powers/Equipment: Broadsword, Bow and Arrows, Round Shield with Willow Tree Insignia (For Litha) ========================================================================================== Ector was dreaming. He was standing on a hill on a burnt plain. War was being waged around him and the earth was drenched with hot blood. And out of the smoke came Ibrahim, his armor gleaming and his sword stained red. Ector snarled and lightning bolts sizzled from his fingertips, but Ibrahim blocked it with his shield. "Why-won't-you-die!", Ector howled, shooting lightning with each word. Ibrahim grunted with each blow but kept his shield raised and kept coming. Finally Ector gave up on the lightning and drew his pale sword, a cursed sword that gave him strength and agility, but also made him brave, and that bravery led many men to their deaths. Ibrahim lowered his shield and swung his mighty sword. "Ha!", Ector said, ducking the blow. Ector tried to stab Ibrahim's underarm, a chink in his armor, but the Knight sidestepped him. "You are a plague on the land, you are the bane of mankind!," Ibrahim shouted. Ector's bloodless lips grinned and he said, "Thats the nicest thing you've ever said to me!" Ibrahim's face hardened and they attacked each other with renewed vigor, their swords blurring. Ector took a step back and slid on loose gravel, and Ibrahim took advantage kicked Ector to the ground. "Now I shall smite thee, O unholy one!", Ibrahim said. Ector was about to give a scathing comeback, when there was a roaring boom from across the battlefield. They both looked and saw all the gods, burning with the fire of a thousand suns, floating down from the clouds over the God of Chaos. "It can't be!", Ector screamed. Ibrahim smiled and said "But it is", and at the same moment the God of Chaos fell... Ector woke and sat straight up. His vision swam with black and yellow spots for a moment, and when it cleared what was left wasn't that much better. He lived in a rickety shack made of sticks and a leaky roof. With a sigh, Ector stood and went to the water basin to splash his face. In the small mirror over the basin he saw his face, the same face he'd had since he was in his mid-twenties. Long ago he'd found a fountain in a cave that gave eternal youth, and then destroyed the cave so no one else could find it. But eternal youth wasn't all it was cracked up to be, he still felt old and his skin looked pulled taut. His crimson hair, matted with dirt, was once a glorious mane, but now it had lost its luster. The only thing that remained unchanged was his eyes that glowed maroon with hatred. Ector had once commanded legions in Phil's army--now he was a mere hermit living in a shack. Ector grimaced and prepared to go check his traps for squirrels or rats--his breakfast--when he heard a voice in his head. Could it be? It was Phil, calling his name! Ector fell to his knees and said, "What do you want of me, milord?..."
Gimar, the Goblin Thief. Life had been going very well until the Knights showed up. Gimar had been hiding out in the small farming town of Plainsbrook, creeping about the town's food stores and wells to stay fed at night, and hiding out in the tanner's shop at day. The putrid smell smell of his day's refuge had kept all but the tanner away, and even he never stayed long in the basement. The basement, where he kept most of his tanning leathers, and housed the dark, secluded corners that made Gimar's home. It also helped that the only person who had actually noticed Gimar was just a child, who's stories of a horribly wrinkled black clad Goblin lurking about at night were dismissed easily. Gimar had it good, and could keep in hiding until winter, when stealthy travel during the day would be easier. Gimar might even had made the small village a permanent residence, if not for those Knights. Of course when Tiber had come to the village, tracking the Goblin to the demon's amazement, Gimar knew he could easily hide. The Wizard, while having enough rank and magical power to obliterate the village and not shifting a political hair, couldn't find the Goblin, through either the villagers or his own tracking skills. The Wizard was cooped up in the finest room of the inn, and the villagers explicitly didn't let anyone talk to the wizard except for their mayor. They also knew the wizard could make their village ash at a whim. The Wizard's own spells at attempting to find the Goblin through physical or magical means were nulled by the fact that Tiber himself had used the counter spells on Gimar, thus teaching the Goblin how to counter any of the Wizard's spells. In other words, Gimar was perfectly safe. That is, until the Knight's showed up, five newly made knights, itching to make their name. Knights of the Order of the God of Light, a damnably long name for men who could find anything. The fine treasure, hidden hundreds miles under them, could be found at the cast of their simplest spell. A Goblin, even using Wizard-taught stealth spells, was found in an instant, the very moment they entered the village. Gimar, having already spent a few weeks putting down detection spells on the village, knew to flee just as instantly. Waking the moment the first horse's hoof hit village dirt, he was sprinting out of the tannery before they reigned in, all balking at the discovery of a Goblin. He was huffing and puffing, villagers screaming at seeing a black-clad goblin fleeing from the tannery, and the Knights, not to mention Tiber, didn't need their spells to know where Gimar was. But Gimar had planned ahead well, and had picked the tanners because he could hide safely, and because the stables were close by. Soon he was galloping out of the village on a well bred pony, five knights and a very angry wizard in tow. They were gaining, so he had to make a stand, or hide. He had reached a hill, with a small, poorly built shack on top, and Gimar quickly decided that was his best chance. It was at that instant, that Phil called. "Gimar, this is Phil, the God of Chaos. I have a mission for you..."
Phil, the God of Chaos. "Ector, my son, This is Phil, God of Chaos. I have a mission for you. Save your fellow brother, the Goblin outside your door." Do this, and I will give you more opportunities to earn glory in the eye of your God. Me."
"Yes, god! I'll do your bidding!", Ector cried. He stood from his kneeling position and retrieved his cloak and his sword from a chest. As he pinned the cloak and buckled his sword belt, he could hear the fast approaching hoofbeats of horses. "This is your moment, Ector," Ector muttered to himself as he strode to the door. He yanked it open and beheld the hideous Goblin being hounded by the Knights and a Wizard. By the insignias on their armor Ector could tell they were Knights of the Order of the God of Light, gifted trackers. "Duck!", Ector screamed at the Goblin, and then fired lightning from his hands. Three of the Knights cried out in agony as they melted in their suits of armor, and their horses bucked them off and ran off. Ha, they should invest in spell-proof shields!, Ector thought. The other two Knights had dismounted their steeds and were charging at Ector, weapons raised. Ector unsheathed his cursed sword and could feel the familiar surge of all-consuming bloodlust. "Raaa!", Ector cried as they joined battle. Ector swung his sword horizontally and cleaved one of the Knights in half. The other Knight tried to hack his legs while he was distracted, but Ector jumped back. They exchanged a few blows, their swords striking sparks into the air. The Knight lunged with his sword, but Ector sidestepped the blade and slapped the Knight's wrist with the side of his sword. The Knight yelped and dropped his weapon, and Ector severed his head before he could do anything else. The last one standing was the Wizard. Ector sheathed his sword and they glared at each other. The other Wizard attacked first, his power wrapping around Ector like a suffocating blanket. Ector gritted his teeth and raised his own magic, and felt the suffocating spell loosen and fall away. Their spirits wrestled invisibly, and with a mighty effort Ector overpowered his opponent. Ector flung the Wizard's spirit back into his body and he collapsed on the ground, drenched in sweat and frothing from the mouth. Ector returned to his own body and a bloodless grin stretched his face. He turned to the Goblin and said, "I am Ector, Phil told me to save you. You can finish off this one if you like..."
"I am Ector, Phil told me to save you. You can finish off this one if you like..." Gimar was speechless. The ragged, pale looking man, who looked more like an insane beggar than a wizard, had just slain six Knights with spell and sword, and outmatched Tiber with nothing but will. I like this human, thought Gimar, trying to convince himself as he stood, smiling at the human, acting calm and proud. Of course, Gimar's insides writhed, knowing this human could obliterate him in an instant, with lightning or sword, but the human, Ector, had mentioned Phil, and Gimar had to appreciate the chance to kill Tiber. The goblin swaggered over the the tall wizard, the man who had tortured him for most of his life. He could kill, torture, and maim me, but Gimar is broken by no man, thought the Goblin, as he stood above the Wizard. The old, frail man, knocked to the ground wheezed, his feeble breath knocked from him. Two old geezers, the undying goblin and the ancient human. A bad joke. Gimar raised his hand. He couldn't toast knights and weld their armor together in their dying pose, but he most certainly put a dagger in the old man. Tiber rolled over, his eyes wild with fear. Gimar could feel the man's magic drained. But not completely gone... Before Gimar could bring the dagger down, the Wizard put his hand on the ground, making a portal across where he was lying. Gimar saw a glimpse of the wizard's chambers as he fell down, and thus in the portal, and then the portal blinked out, the wizard gone in an instant. Gimar paused, then seethed in rage. He screamed, "NO! To be so close, GAHHH!" The goblin didn't stop for a short while, his temper getting the better of himself. Gimar forced himself to be calm, and then looked Ector in the eye. "So...Ector, you said Phil told you to save me?" the Goblin asked, trying to act somewhat normal, not like the man who had tortured him for years was a hair's breath from dying, but got away. Trying to act like the man in front of him couldn't fry him with a twitch of those storm-blessed fingers, or have his throat opened by that long, pale sword. The human nodded, smiling and acting...kind of polite. The goblin was sure only the humans in big palaces and had long, fancy titles were polite. Gimar must really have been imprisoned for a long time for that much to have changed in humans... "Well Ector," started Gimar, putting on his best looking grin, "I am Gimar, the Thief. Phil wants me to break him out of jail. Wanna come with?"
"Of course", Ector said. He looked from the Goblin to the spot where the Wizard had been. "You have powerful enemies, Gimar. And I have a feeling he'll be back." With that Ector wordlessly whipped around, his cloak flapping behind him, and went inside his shack. They would need provisions if they were going to undertake such an epic journey. Ector himself could go a few days or a week without eating, surviving only on sorcery, but it was a hollow trick, not at all fulfilling. He packed a sack with stale bread, a hunk of moldy cheese and some potatoes. He returned to Gimar who was standing in the doorway and tossed him the sack. "You will carry", Ector said in a flat voice. He didn't dislike the Goblin, but he was used to commanding demons, not befriending them. Realising he was maybe too brusque, he added, "Please." After all they were both servants of Phil, and the God of Chaos didn't say anything about one of them being more important than the other. They were in this together. Ector approached the only horse left besides Gimar's. It was the Wizard Tiber's steed; it shied from him: animals generally didn't like him, plus this one had seen him toast the Knights and subdue its master. "Calm down, brute", Ector grumbled, grabbing its reins. He turned to the Goblin. "Did Phil tell you anything else? As of right now all we know is he wants us to free him. The only option I can see is heading toward his prison til he gives us further instructions, or we reach his jail." Ector climbed expertly onto his mount and without waiting for Gimar, urged the horse into a steady gait. Although he hid it well, Ector was a little winded from all the magic he'd just used. He hoped it was a while before they ran into any more Knights... At Freedomopolis, a walled city that held the headquarters of the Order of Litha, Ibrahim the Knight was sparring in a courtyard with a pageling. He easily disarmed him and whacked his backside with the flatside of his blade. Ibrahim gave the pageling a break and leaned against a wall. The truth was he was bored: since the war he spent his time settling petty arguements between townspeople. There were no swordsmen of his caliber--none since Ector, who was currently M.I.A. Ibrahim sighed and headed to a fountain to wash his hands, when he overheard two Knights talking about a report from a Wizard named Tiber that a Goblin had escaped with the aid of a crimson haired sorcerer. Ibrahim got the location of Tiber's home and was galloping out of Freedomopolis within the hour. He would team up with Tiber and together they would track down the renegade Goblin and the fiend--who he suspected was Ector. For the first time in a long time he could feel the fervor of adventure coarse through his veins. "Yaw!", he cried, making his horse gallop faster.
Gimar found he really didn't like Ector. Not only was the human scarier than most of the things Tiber knew how to summon, the bastard made him carry their provisions. Gimar was naturally used to eating garbage and being thankful, but spending a few millennium with a wizard, who most certainly enjoyed the comforts of power, Gimar found himself wrinkling his nose at the almost rotting food. Gimar grumbled a little as they rode, dusk finding them after putting at least twenty miles north of their fight with Tiber. As night reined, Gimar found a secluded area a ways off of the path, and let the human do the rest of the work. Gimar fiddled with his dagger, trying to put a minor enchantment of sharpness to the thing. For some reason, Gimar had never been able to enchant things. Attempting to tackle this problem for the last century, he had never had any success. It wasn't a purse to cut or a throat to slit, nor any small valuable to steal, so Gimar didn't know what to do with it. Gimar sighed, and munched on his moldy bread. The human was a quandary. Gimar wasn't sure to flee from him, kill him in his sleep, or trust him. He seemed devout to Phil, but that meant nothing. He knew the most devout in his old city, thousands of years ago, routinely killed other servants of Phil, but then again, Phil had never talked to them directly. Gimar found his mind wandering to Phil himself. The god, imprisoned deep inside the Mountain of Solitude, guarded by the White Dragons. Gimar thought of Ector trying to fry the swarms of holy dragons defending the mountain, or the thousands of elite soldiers defending it. He chuckled. Gimar hoped Phil, or Ector, had a plan, because if he didn't Gimar would be getting eaten alongside Ector when they got to Phil's prison. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Tiber seethed. The Goblin, fickle and frightened Gimar had managed to escape him, and an average human wizard, a beggar looking man had surprised him. The human hid his magics well, for Tiber to not detect him, or the Knights either. Tiber would not make the same mistake again. Confined to his solitary tower, far from any other civilization, Tiber prepared himself. He would kill that human beggar wizard thing, and capture his Goblin. He knew his failure would travel quickly to the other wizards. He would not be a laughingstock. He had to finish this quickly.
Tiberious Fletch, the Sacrificed Summoner Dear Summoner, I write this letter to all who may be interested in the dark arts. I will remain anonymous, for even the darkest of arts are stopped eventually… unless they are shrouded. Do not let this discourage you, for there are wonderful things you can do with this magic. In fact, right now I am with a bunny of whom I have risen from the dead. Just for giggles. You could do the same, and so much more, all you have to do is find me. Now if you have learned any dark arts at all, you will be able to figure out this code concealing my location. Anyone who is not familiar with these arts, or have tainted them, will be killed before they read this next word. For this book is cursed, too bad they couldn’t read this part ahead of time. Izzfzzzzzzxyzxxzzzzzoxzzzzzzuzzzzzzzcxzzzzzazzzzzxxnxxzxzzzzrzzzzezzzzzzazzzzdzzzztzzzzhzzzzzzizzzzzszzzzz,Izzzczzzzazzzzxnzzzzzzztzzzzrzzzzxuzzzzxszxzzzzztzzzzzzzyzxzzzxozzzxzuzzzz.zzzzzzzNzzzzozzzzw,zzzIzzzazzmzzzzzlzzzozzczzazztzxzxzxexzzzzdzzzzzzizzznzzxzxzxtxzxzxzxhzzzezzszzhzzzazzzzczzxzkzzzzwzzzzezzzzszzztzzzzozzzfzzzzzGzzlzzzzezznzzzfzzzizzzxezzxzlzzzd,zzdxxzzozzzzxznzzzzxozzzztzzzzzczzzozmzzzzezzzizzznzzxztzzzhzzrzzzozzzuxzzzgzzzhzztzzzhzzezzzfzzxzxrxzxzxzoxzzzxxnzztxxxzxxzzzdzzxzozzzozzzrzzzz!zzzIzzztzzizszzrzzzzizzgzzgzzezdzzzz,zztzhzezrzzzexzxizszzazhzzaztzzczhzxxzhxxxzzizzdzdzxxezznzzbzzzezznxzezzzaztzzzhzazzzpzzizzlzezozfzdzzzizrztzzazznxzdzlzzexzzzazzzvxxxzzzexzzszztzzhzzazztxxxzzyzzoxxzxxxxzuzzmzzuzzszztzzozzpzzezznz.zzzYxzzozzuzzczazzznzzfzzizznzzxdzzizztzz,zzIxzz'zmzzszzuzzzzrzzezzz. Once you have followed these instructions, you can learn all that you need to know from Yours Truly. I will take you in as an apprentice, I desire your help. -Yours Truly If there is one place to leave a flier for the dark arts, it is the old barn. It has been long abandoned on account of the agricultural economy plummeting. Usually, it is used for run-aways and rascals. The farm’s haunting gaze holds me for a little bit. Almost whispering, “Just try and stay safe here.” Broken down, beams fallen and crooked. The ladder creaks under my light frame. The relief of making it up that ladder is just unbelievable, I’ve never seen such a broken down place! A nearby hay bale marks the perfect spot for a discreet letter. “For those whose hearts are as cold as the blade they wield. Open this at your own risk, for non-practicers of the dark arts will suffer a terrible fate.” A warning inscribed on this letter, tucked into the hay bale. The barn is in the darkening backdrop behind me, letting another out of its cold grasps. Back at the homely town center, I don’t fit in too well. Not even in a small town like this. I kind of distance myself from everyone, I dress in black robes, fairly normal. I guess I just give off an aura I guess. An aura of death, nobody wants that. Still, they are friendly, offering me good deals on their new business or something. Usually a con-artist, but it is still warming. My dark practices aren't any more evil than hailing the precious church God. What’s so different about my friend Phil? What makes him “the bad guy”? They just disagree with him, but we’ll show them. In the middle of the village, there is a strangely familiar face… Not an “I’ve seen you around here before” face, but an “it’s been a long time” face. Then it struck me, struck me like a bolt of light. My old friend, Eldridge. Hopefully, I will just be another face in the crowd. I doubt it though, I didn’t leave on great terms with him. Not good terms at all… A shriek rang out in the church on that fateful day. I was angry, that was most of it. My whole group of summoners had been arrested. A geist, summoned up from pure hatred. Just to throw things around and stuff, I wasn’t thinking. I forgot all about noise, I forgot about the priest. “Tiberious! What are you doing?!” he had yelled, then the look on his face. The look that would stay on his face, when he saw that geist. It immediately darted towards him, tearing his flesh apart. Had he his wits about him, it would have exploded just from his aura of light. He was tired though, we all were. The only difference being, he got to rest after. I still go nights sleepless with the image of his face. The loving priest, Eldridge’s father, passed away that night. Still on the run, here I am. Fortunately, nobody knew me here. How Eldridge found me, I may never know. A puzzled look forms on Eldridge’s face, a look of recognition. His gaze following me, looking straight through me. “A-a-are you who I think you are?” Eldridge’s voice seemed to rise above all others in the crowd, mainly because he was so close to me now. I try to slip away, make a few turns to make sure he had definitely spotted me. “Tiberious? THE Tiberious?! It’s been forever! How pleasant to see you.” Just the look in the eyes puts me through the whole experience all over again. The guilt, the pain, everything floods through my body. I stay silent, until a hand grabs my arm. Eldridge looks straight at me. “We should meet up and chat for a while, do some catching up…” he slips me a piece of paper. I know that it is his address, I know him very well. As long as it has been. I know what I need to do, I need to prepare for battle. There will surely be one, this isn’t a friendly chat. This is a, “You ruined my life, now I can finally ruin yours!” chat. I need to round up my numbers as quickly as possible, anyone who has the slightest hint of darkness must extend.
Ector noticed that the Goblin--no, Gimar, his name was Gimar--was distancing himself from him. After gathering some sticks and lighting them with magic, Ector sat with a flourish of his cape on a rock and watched Gimar try again and again to enchant a knife. Finally, Ector said "Allow me", and took the blade from his companion. He examined it briefly and then handed it back to its owner. "There, its sharp now", Ector declared. "Would you like to know what you were doing wrong?" Ector explained, and gave Gimar a few tips on ensorcelling objects. He didn't know if the Gob--Gimar, he must remember that name--was grateful, or if he despised him even more. Ector nodded slightly and declared that he would go search for berries, for dessert. He stalked into the dark, pulling his cloak tighter around himself for warmth, but the air seemed to blow right through the worn fabric. Ector didn't find berries, but he did find a babbling stream. He watched his ragged reflection in the water and was disgusted by his appearance. It was time to take pride in his looks; he may not be a commander in an army, but he was Phil's servant. Ector washed his face and scrubbed away the grime, and then wet his hair. With the dirt gone he looked slightly better, although he still had the appearance of a polished skull with skin pulled tightly over it. His bloodred hair had a sheen to it, and it was fuller, not matted down with filth. "Now, I just need a new wardrobe..." He had barely finished his sentence when he heard noises, and when he went to investigate, saw a nobleman's carriage with a broken wheel nearby. As the servant hastily repaired the wheel, Ector swooped in, his cloak billowing like the wings of a giant bat. Ector returned to camp wearing a black doublet and leggings, and a heavy purple cape. He also had a ruby ring and a velvet pouch of gold coins. "Nothing wrong with a costume change", Ector said to Gimar as he got a potatoe from the sack and bit into it. The next morning they woke and packed to go. They avoided any roads, but eventually came to a small town with a steepled church. Ector decided to go through to pick up on any news. He pulled on his hood to hide his face and then entered the town, Gimar in tow. They hadn't gone far when they ran into a man who seemed distracted. The man tried to walk around them, but Ector suddenly grabbed his forearm with his bony hand in a viselike grip. "You know dark magic", Ector hissed; it was a statement, not a question. "Tiberius is your name, I'm good with names. Mine is Ector, and this is my companion, Gimar. We're servants of Phil." Ector knew it was foolish to reveal his identity to a stranger, but Tiberius wore dark magic like a cloak and they would need allies if they were to break out Phil. Ector tried to grin kindly and his thin skin pulled even tighter, and he said, "We'll help you with anything if you accompany us on our sacred mission, to free Phil. Deal?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Not so far away, the Wizard Tiber was surprised to find a Knight of the Order of Litha banging at his door. The Knight introduced himself as Ibrahim, bowing slightly and flashing a white smile. "I heard you encountered a fiend with crimson hair that aided a Goblin in escape", Ibrahim continued, wasting no time. "I think I know this fiend by the name Ector, and if you'd help me track him, we can capture that Goblin and I can deal with the sorcerer. This is your oppurtunity to redeem yourself, Wizard Tiber. Deal...?" Many deals were being proposed in the land that morning.
Gimar, the Goblin Thief. "We'll help you with anything if you accompany us on our sacred mission, to free Phil. Deal?" Gimar stood by, fidgeting in his cloak, one he always had on him for being out in the open. He knew enough magic to sense magical strength, and knew this man, whom Ector had just picked out of the blue, was a dangerous man. Other than the impossible mission to trouble me, there is an abundance of bloodthirsty dark wizards around here, thought Gimar. Gimar fidgeted again as this new man stood speechless for a moment. Ector wasn't hiding his insanity and fervent nature well enough, the common townsfolk were looking and Ector grabbing one of their own, with suspicious eyes. Only a matter of time before the corpse-like man is a sideshow to the poorly disguise Goblin, and we have a small riot on our hands. Gimar looked around for a moment, peering through his cloak's dark hood, and found what he needed. A house, poorly built and mostly straw and thatch, was sitting, dried hay lying by the side. Gimar repeatedly cast a simple fire spell, merely a small, almost invisible string of embers, at the house. The embers landed on the roof, the side, and across the wall. Gimar noticed Ector and the new man, the dark wizards, were watching him cast the spells, their instincts well honed to sense spells. Gimar had an instant of dizziness, using up half of his magical pool with those string of simple, novice level spells. The house, suddenly adorned with a dozen small flames, Gimar turned and hissed at the wizards, "In here, fools!" and made his best imitation at a human scream, pointing at the burning house. The townsfolk, suddenly presented with a burning house house in the middle of the village, and potential town-wide fire, rushed to action. Gimar lead them into an alley just a few paces away, Ector shoving the new human with him before the human could react. Now let's just hope we didn't just anger the new wizard, cause if we did I am probably first on his hit list for lighting one of his village's houses on fire, Gimar thought. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Tiber and his new companion, Ibrahim, stepped out of the wizard's portal and were soon overlooking a small town. "If the Goblin and that wizard didn't flee straight to Freedomopolis, a stupid decision, they must have wound up here," Tiber started, his cultured voice ringing out, "the only other bastion of civilization around this area. We can't travel via portals the entire time, so if they aren't here, we can get horses to find them here, at least." Ibrahim thanked him, his eyes blazing. A little bloodhound, isn't he, Tiber thought. This Knight certainly had it out for Gimar's twice-damned sorcerer.
"In here, fools!" The mysterious man's grasp is shirked off by my tugging of the shoulder. These men, erm, man and a goblin come in around the same time as my old "friend", a house burns down... What in the frosted layers of Limbo is going on here? "Pardon me for asking, but who are you? I know that you claim to worship Phil, as do I, but that gives you no right to create such an entrance to my life. Also, how do you know about my practices?" Dark bolts of magic flare up in my hands. I can tell they are taken aback by this, especially the goblin. The man seems used to this kind of thing happening. Hopefully, the bolt still holds its threat. "If you are priests, you must tell me! If you are looking to kill me, think twice. You could take me down, but not before I plague you with a mind-festering disease. I could break you down until your mind collapses in on itself, sometimes ending in massacre suicide... You wouldn't want that now would you?" While they say they are worshippers of Phil, I find it hard to believe. A worshipper of Phil would not typically make this kind of first impression...
Gimar saw the look on man's face and knew this had all been a very bad idea. Burning down a house, while a conventional Goblin tactic, was not the right touch for this certain scenario. Hey, at least he is looking at Ector with those black bolts! Regardless, Gimar saw that Ector was looking at the man like those dark magical bolts looked lonely, and should be quickly accompanied by bolts of the electrical kind. Gimar, saying, "Ector," slowly, and loudly, as he put his hand, er, reached up on the tips of his toes to put his hand, on Ector's shoulder. Ector looked at Gimar, and the Goblin put up his best "I got this" face, and said, "Hey, Ector, let me take this one, OK? I owe you for the Knights. All five of them." Gimar said that last part like he was an old friend. Or at least, tried to. Gimar didn't think he was good at imitating humans. Still, for the sake of the alley and his overly wrinkled skin, he hoped he was good enough.
"No, allow me", Ector told Gimar. Then he turned to Tiberius, maroon eyes burning like coals. "You presume to plague my mind? I am sure one such as you is very talented in that kind of bewitchment, but I must warn you. My mind is already quite...fractured. Many a man has been driven mad trying to tamper with my head..." The townsfolk were making a raucous as they flocked to the fire with buckets of water. Ector cast them an annoyed look, he hated being interrupted, and continued in a haughty tone, "Look, I can tell you're a dark sorcerer 'cause I myself am so acquainted with it. And you can trust us, Phil called us. We're going to that swath of trees outside town and we'll wait for you. If you're not there by sunset, we'll leave without you." With a dramatic flourish of his purple cape, Ector stormed away, leaving Tiberius alone with his thoughts. Ector and Gimar were barely down the street when Ector suddenly halted. He was standing ramrod straight and staring across the street like he had seen a ghost. The two bystanders he was watching were the Wizard Tiber and, even more shocking, Ibrahim the Knight. They were distracted by the fire and hadn't spotted Ector or Gimar yet. "Uh, Gimar, we've got company--your Wizard pal and my personal executioner. We need to take evasive action: now", Ector urged. He snatched the Goblin's withered hand and muttered words of power. Gray mist formed around them and they were gone in less than a second. They reappeared in the swath of trees outside town, where their horses were tethered. Ector was slightly tired from the spell, but he immediately started casting alarum spells that would warn him if someone approached. When he was done he sat on a fallen log and told Gimar not to light a fire, despite the chilly afternoon breeze. Ibrahim might see it and come searching. Ibrahim, Ector thought. The presence of his old enemy triggered a mix of emotions in him. He felt chilled and strangely excited at once. Chilled because Ibrahim had almost killed him on several occasions, and excited because it brought back memories of their legendary battles. Once they had fought an entire day, sorcery against blade. "Tiberius better hurry", Ector murmured, ome hand resting on the pommel of his sword. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ibrahim watched the locals hasten to put the flames. He would have helped, but they seemed to have it under control. He glanced across the street and for a split second thought he saw a cloaked figure and a midget in an alley. But a milisecond later they had disapeared. Ibrahim squinted suspiciously, but decided he was seeing things where there was nothing, and didn't mention it to Tiber. "Lets ask around shall we? Ector never was good at guises, and a Goblin isn't exactly conspicuous either", Ibrahim declared. And I have a deep suspicion Ector had something to do with that fire, he thought to himself.
