Cloud Rising, Once More Unto the Breach, dear RPers.

[Isawa]

(( If you want to join during the first page, feel free to join. Once there's more than a page in posts, I ask that you PM me for permission so I may discuss it with other roleplayers before you post. Got that? Good. Enjoy the plotline that Joe and I spent so much time and energy perfecting. Oh, and if my opening is too metaphoric, bite me and find a more simpleminded site! ))

It was a silent day, gray day.

Velvet clouds of gray over a harsh gray landscape, melting into gray forests in the distance. The planet was dying, and the luster of the world was gone. And here Yumiko waited, in the shadow beneath the sign of the Copper Coronet, awaiting one she knew was coming, yet could not identify. At first, she felt a slight anger at Izuko's lack of divulgence... though she knew one could not be angered by secretiveness from the deity of secrets.

A streak of grayed, subdued, blue poked through the passive sea of gray, but only for a moment. The clouds swallowed it up once more. They always did. The sun and sky were pawns in a game far greater than anyone could ever know.

Crowds of gray people passed by her, bustling about, speaking in Latin - a tongue she did not understand, had no wish to understand. They were all so involved with their lives, so possessed by the belief that they were of some significance in the grand scheme of things. Every so often, a flash of color from the masses. An alabaster laugh, a vermillion scream. But it was merely a play of her mind. They were all as gray as the sky, as gray as the earth, as gray as the imposing forests to the west.

Heavy, armored footsteps. A troop of city guardsmen, gray people on their gray tasks, living from day to colorless day, swallowed up in the voids of hubris and the emptyness of ego that consumed the world anymore. Gray men, leading gray, meaningless lives.

A leaf drifted down from a nearby tree, a simple, gray maple, struggling to survive the drenching in alcohol it got every gray morning, reaching for the gray skies with branches lacking definition. Gray leaves upon gray limbs, nestled between grey buildings upon an earth lacking color and song. More gray, in an endless sea of gray, now shedding gray leaves on a gray autumn morning.

The leaf touched the earth, near Yumiko's foot, and with a delicate motion of her hand, she swept the the little thing into her hand by it's stem, examining it. A leaf of brilliant scarlet, replete with the hues of a living, breathing, eternally changing world.

A world which was no longer gray.

[Aun Shi]

Harbored feelings slept in the gray mass that surrounded this dark dressed animation in fear of the surrounding trees to feed off him and his feelings.
The forest was alive with malcontent, and ready to strike or give away Aun's position. He felt as if he was being watched in the thick branches surrounding his hidden aura. It wasn't a suprise that this facial expression captivation was mainly composed of "no shit" and fear.

Fear of being exposed when he was at his worst physical condition. This state of being was his fault; of course, because it only happens when someone runs til they collapse.

Aun Shi laid on the trunk of a tree that was three men thick. His crystalline orbs frantically searching for answers to his despair. He was up against a barrier in his own mind and wondering why he felt so scared.

At his age, it was uncommon for a man to be petrified of thier own dreams. The dark entity that would chase him was overbearing. Aun wanted to know so badly who this person was. He wanted with all his heart to stand up and face his daemon. He was sick of the dark circles under his eyes from the countless nights of insomnia.

The closer Aun Shi got to Rome, the more the feeling tightened in his heart. Knowing this was what kept him going. There wasn't any more desire he had ever experienced than what he was conscious of now.

Still the overbearing state of mind that someone was chasing him never ended. Aun got up once more, exausted from his travels and trekked on.

[RequiemReaper]

"How much longer until we reach the shore?"

A middle-aged man stood on the deck of a ship, peering out across calm waters. His lengthy auburn hair was ruffled by the sea breeze, becoming an unkempt inferno behind him, flowing in-sync with his cape. The sailor he addressed was standing on the bow, turning a steering wheel while looking at the heavens. There was no cloud cover; just thousands of sparkling stars set on an ebon sheet, lead by a radiant cresent moon. The celestial beauty was magnified by the ocean's mirrorlike surface, and as far as the eye could see, there was light above and below.

"I say about another day's wandering," the sailor replied. After a long pause, he continued speaking, gray eyes following a path in the sky. "We are fortunate, Dinfalas. I really wish every trip was like this... Calm, silent, you know."

The older man nodded, smiling a little. He had had his share of rough sea adventures, and knew what kind of blessing a journey like this was. No storms, no whirlpools, no pirates... Just a gentle crossing from Kazekei to Arkadia. He also knew what it meant for the future, however.

"Expect the calm before the storm."

He sighed, recalling tidbits of Chihiro's warning, and the reason why he was headed to Arkadia in the first place. Rumors were saying that Vyrisa has returned--and her first step to enslave Llyrrin was to release her lieutenants, the Nine Samurai, from their supernatural prisons. Considering the renegade troop gatherings in desolate regions of Kazekai, it was a very real possibility, one that almost made Dinfalas shudder. It seemed another war was brewing, and an army was placed on the board before the other side was even ready.

"Must you always be so grim?" the sailor questioned, rubbing his shaved head with a hand. "Toss away your worries and enjoy the view. It'll do you a world of good, Dinny."

Dinny, a nickname he picked up during one of Kanasu's drunken babbles ages ago. If Keiko had not been so amused by it, perhaps it would have been forgotten, but she and her mentor had stuck it to him. Indeed, it reminded him of his own mentor, the only person with a greater passion for swordplay, but the suggestion of his current host kept most of his memories at bay. For once, maybe he should release all of his worries, and take what life brings as it comes. That made sense, at least for the moment.

"Perhaps it would, Isamu. Perhaps it would..."

[Isawa]

The glass clattered onto the bar counter.

"Another, Julian."

The innkeeper, a middle-aged man with greying hair, looked up with a note of shock. He had never seen anyone put away so much alcohol so quickly - not even the man who occupied the stool before him. After a moment's pause, he nodded, and poured another glass of the Elvish mead.

"Is something wrong, Kanasu?"

The blind man cocked his head comically, downing the glass at once with a flourish, and smacking it down on the counter.

"No, nothing's wrong. The world may be dying and noone's learned a damn thing from the past, but nothing's wrong." He sighed. "Nothing's right, Julian. Nothing's been right for almost three thousand years. You never saw the tranquil time, or Etenkyo, or the unity of all life after the Upheaval... I dont expect you to understand. I shouldnt be unloading this on you..."

The people sitting near the blind man edged away as quickly as they could. Julian began cleaning their glasses, listening to Kanasu as he always did. The swordsman was full of secrets and possessed amazing knowledge, but he released it between spells of alcoholism and angered fits of insanity.

"You've seen more than anyone wants to. Bloodshed that makes the Septim conquests seem insignificant by comparison."

Julian's comment caught a sharp - and unsettling - gaze from Kanasu, his sightless eyes meeting those of the bartender.

"Don't try to play psychoanalyst with me, Julian. We are done with this subject. And remember, next time, that you know nothing of hell, but will learn soon enough if you fail to heed the warnings." He tapped his empty glass. "Another."

The barkeeper sighed, and poured another glass of mead.

[Red]

Gre'er took an easy gait throught the meadow. He felt almost like a child again, hopping over a creek daintily and scrambling to the top of a small boulder for a better view of his surroundings. The plain indeed stretched on almost as far as he could see. Just as the plain met the horizon and dissapeared from his veiw, there was an inkspot on the landscape....A city. Gre'er smiled. He had been out for weeks. Time to go have a good time. Based of the region, he knew this was no elven city, but due to his poor sense of direction and even worse sense of geography, he really had no Idea which city it really was. His best guess was Rome, but Gre'er wasn't placing bets on it.

Hopping down from the boulder, Gre'er began to run. At this speed it would take him a day and a half to reach the city, breaks included. The plain flew by, the grass, the rocks dissapeared behind Gre'er, and were instantly forgotten.

Gre'er knew he wouldn't be welcome as an elf in this city. As he ran, he began to disguise himself. Pulling his hood over his elven ears, he began to transform his face... first he puckered his lips and sucked them in slightly. Next he squinted his eyes. A beard could have sealed the package, but Gre'er had no fake hair. The figure running across the field no longer looked elven....he looked like a finely featured and slender human...Just as Gre'er wanted. As soon as he entered the city he would pick up the accent and local dialect and blend in seamlessly. The city drew closer and closer as night fell. Perhaps he could run for part of the night and arrive before morning of the next day.

(Isawa: Edited for grammar and spelling.)

[Aun Shi]

Falling stones broke the dead silence as Aun lifted his weary knees over the man made hill that led up to a broken down cobble-stone wall. The purple hazed sky casted a magnificant glow over the city of Rome and over the wall came the distant busyness of the city market closing down.

Of course the sweaty silouette attempted to climb over the wall to avoid any interaction with certain individuals from the front entrance. But as soon as his legs experienced relief when they reconnected with soil, he collapsed and laid on the ground for several minutes. His distraught was uncomparable, but nevertheless he got up and looked for an unlocked house.

There were no candles inside at all, but it was filled with food because Aun was very satisfied in a matter of minutes. The man didn't like accomplishing illegal acts of stealing, but it was for a good cause.

His good will.

The shack was very tidy and well-kept, but there wasn't anyone currently there. Aun got up from the chair and investigated the rooms. He peeked into one room and realized from the putrid smell, that the room was used for trash, or a possible bathroom. He closed that door right away. Quietly opening another and looking in, he could see the edge of a bed from the fading light coming through crack in curtains. This was much to his approval because there would be money in a bedroom. He stepped in and shifted his leathered feet towards the bed, looking for any type of shiny metal. Aun Shi picked up various metals and scrutinized them, but put them down because he felt guilty about his crimes as he sat down on the bed. How Aun never noticed the lump in the bedsheets was pretty blunt of him, but a slender reaching hand wrapped around his bicept and pulled him closer. The wearied hero was tired and his eyes felt heavy. He almost wondered if he was dreaming as felt his clothes coming off and warm succulent lips pressed to his. The woman that was pressing her full voluptuous figure against his bare chest had no clue that Aun wasn't her husband. Of course the man kissed back and continued in the act of adultery that he was currently representing and passed out at the end of it.
It was only lucky of Aun that the woman realized who he was and saved his life by taking him across the street of her house and laid him against the wall, for if her husband found out of him, he would have killed both of them...

Renewed and kindled, the Arbiter work up and looked at his groggy surroundings understanding that last night was no dream, because his clothes were now fresh and clean. Sure, the nickname Arbiter was a bit too much over the top for a man like Aun, but he liked the sound of it. And with his figure with a certain light illuminating him, one could almost believe that he might live up to the name in those few seconds to come.

"Heh, gotta love those kind of girls..."

Aun Shi was extremely relieved that he had some rest, because he was slowly dying without it. His ample bones creaked whilest he got up and entered the building he was recently leaning against.

Stiffily he grabbed a barstool and sat down next to a man to cooly glared blindly at the barkeep. Aun waved his hands in front of the blind man and giggled.

"What are you both talking about?"

The question was mainly imposed on the barkeep, but Aun was sure he was going to get a piece of mind from the seemingly distraught man aside him.


(OOC: excuse any errors that may have happened, im still tired from my 23 hour flight from yesterday. and please delete the two posts before me Isawa, thats annoying to look at. As this is as well im sure.)

[Utano_Tenshi]

“….Darkness….has it been so long?” Seroku questions the very air around him, he has no sense of direction. Curiously he reaches around him falling onto the floor below him only to remember he was sleeping upon a hammock A groan escapes his lips as a feebly rises to his knees then rightfully unto his feet, turning his head about still unable to see. After a few minutes of caressing the walls to escape his dark surroundings Seroku finds a door ,which when he opens its heavy filling, light flood in, his eyes becoming that of dart like shapes.

Quietly, discretely, memories of traveling waters filter through his mind, all the while he climbs the ships stair recognizing the land before him. “Rome…” He mouths, though to him he hears himself speak not. Slowly he raises his hand before his absent arm and scratches at it as though it were there “..Damn it…..” He looks to the missing piece of his body “I swear this wound a thousand times worse to Vyrisa..”

Seroku less confused of his surroundings, looks about the ship for members of the crew, finding no apparent use for staying upon its wooden body. Shortly thereafter he leaves, gracing the land with his wooden feet (sandals) and walks towards some locals his eye caught within range “Hey!” he partially shouts, a smile gracing the fringes of his lips, he missed being with common folk. “Where is the…err bar?” he finally asks, waiting patiently for a reply

“To the north of here, should be some sign of it, people gather around..” replies the local male, whose last task was that of talking to a friend. “Thanks..” replies he that removed his pale person from the ship.

Seroku takes in the sky with his rich brown orbs and inhales the fresh air, pulling strands through his haair with his small hands, Obaru wavering in the gentle winds “I wonder where Kanasu is..”

[Isawa]

"Why, where he always is, drinking himself stupid at the copper coronet."

The voice would come from behind Seroku, a soft, almost purring voice of strangely mellow demeanor. Whether he recognized it or not, the speaker knew this Seiken apprentice very well. She had seen him often in drill with Kanasu, watched motions that would appear flawless be countered and shattered at every turn. Seroku was a graceful warrior, and yet watching him spar another Seiken put into light how far he still had to rise.

Her tail would flick past his face, and the small woman, strange among all the creatures of Llyrrin, would gaze up at him with her usual unreadable glower, her eyes a viridian veil of emotion and her contained instincts urging her towards unthinkable acts of violence.

"Dont tell me you had forgotten the tendencies of your master, Seroku."

She tilted her head, took a good look at the one-armed man. He was nearly as small as she was, quite an anomaly among humanity. She had always found him interesting, his determination was rivaled by few. To lose an arm was most often a deathblow for those who lived by the sword, and this one had chosen to struggle on in all his crippled glory. He had recovered remarkably quickly. And she had witnessed none of it; Seroku was much like Kanasu - she knew him more by stories and hearsay, most from a first person, than by actually acquaintance.

She was not old enough to know much more than that.

She scampered quickly into the crowded streets where she had rested moments before the arrival of the ship. She would wait for Dinfalas, he was the one she needed to speak with, since Kanasu had proven his usual cryptic and depressive self. And since she was in no mood to deal with his self-pity or his righteous drunkenness, it was probably for the best that she waited here. Seeing Seroku for a second time had proven to be similar to before. She danced about him and vanished before he could respond to anything she was saying.

That was life around the eccentric child of slaughter. The only one who had routinely gotten a good conversation out of her had abandoned her to her fate. She had nearly let herself die when the Silver Hare vanished into the fleeting dawn... but she persevered. Her instincts would not allow her that respite she had so desperately wanted. Survival mattered far more than emotion - the animal side of her heritage would never let her think otherwise for longer than prudent.

[RequiemReaper]

"I bid you farewell, Isamu. Do take care on the journey home."

Home, of course, was Kazekei. Dinfalas spent a majority of his life there, and while it was not his homeland, he was willing to call it such. That said, the emerald eyes of the Arkadian King had seen many a day, much more than most men have lived. Kazekei is where his passion for swordplay came to full-bloom, in the same citadel he met Chihiro, Kanasu, and Quarin. Those three and a list of other faces have shaped him into the man he was now, a spectacular swordsman, an understanding individual, and inspiring leader. Perhaps, if the Kingdom of Arkadia was revived under his rule, the world may be relieved of discrimination and violence for a time. However, as much as he wished it, the wielder of Incandescence and heir to the throne decided to remain largely insignificant. Not because he was afraid... He simply wanted to stay home. That is what Kazekei was to him, and always will be, regardless of his heritage.

He left on that note, leaving a wide grin on the face of the young sailor. He and his fellow shipmates, including the captain, tossed in their barrage of good-byes and good wishes. Dinfalas stopped only once in his departure to gaze upon the crew. Most were still shouting, but Isamu was waving, his gray eyes remarkably bright. He returned the gesture with a nod, then stepped off the boarding plank, pausing for a moment to examine the port. It was relatively busy with supply transport and travelers, and filled with legionnaires to certify newcomers and prevent criminal activity. The air was fresh with spices, conversation, and the timid sighs of the sea. Dinfalas closed his eyes, smiling. Major conflicts always began like this, a gentle, almost enticing welcome. He briefly remembered Quarin, the elven paladin, and their arrival to the same port some one-hundred and forty years ago, before Vyrisa unleashed her greatest weapons upon the world. It was similar to this, at least in atmosphere. Only this time, Quarin was not with him.

Dinfalas opened his eyes.

On the outside, he looked fine, no different than he did a few seconds ago. On the inside, however, he was afflicted with sorrow and rage, a maelstrom of emotion that erupted like a volcano. He knew well the sacrifice Quarin made within the realm of Aman-sol. If it were death, Dinfalas may have been able to sleep a little easier. Life was not the sacrifice of Quarin Kildar, however; his very existence had been rendered null and void. It was a crime against creation. A crime Vyrisa was going to pay dearly for.

He proceeded forward, calm and steady, weaving his way through the mass of people. His appearance gave no hint to the fire in his soul. Only Incandescence, the crystalline sword, was able to reflect the heart of Dinfalas Isumendur, and that piece of magical genius was concealed by a leather sheath. He kept it at his waist to use when the need arrived. The time was not now, but the destination had been reached. It all started in the city of Rome, under a sky so pure and blue. Guided by the flames of vengeance and determination, Dinfalas pressed on, the fire now in his eyes.

He was ready to fight the storm.

[Utano_Tenshi]

Time is of the essence.

Quickly, swiftly, does he dash to the chase, following this small girl that so greatly agitated him. Shaking his head his mind races, ‘when I catch’ , where anger clouds his judgment, flicking his wrist by his side -near his sword- it seems as if he were going to draw his blade but no further motion comes forth. His eyes carve straight through the peoples before him in search of this quick speaker.

Finally when he catches or removes the gap between them he pushes onwards, faster, his questions set and his future carved in stone. “Kanasu…” he remember. Kanasu he must see in order to begin his life long training again. Choices- choices. He continues on only to tap the girls shoulder, smirking. “Finally!” he almost yells but quiets himself.

“Don’t talk…I don’t want any more of your confusing, venomous speech running through my mind. Serouku eyes the girl for a moment, he has changed since he last saw her and visa versa. No longer is he crippled by the loss of his arm- he has learned to focus more. He’s more definite than he was long ago, the revenge his has in store is mapped out in his, though the future is veiled behind thick curtains. “I need your help, and no talking!” he rambles on, letting going oh her shoulder with his delicately small hand. He just stares, his thoughts lost again in the mist of his misery.

[Neo Hishota]

I've waited this long...

The words he swore to himself the day he set off on this journey to Rome replayed slowly through his mind as he neared the city gates, blade in his hand.

I'm not waiting any longer.

The dark of night was disrupted by the occasional lit candle in the window of a home. Hira had come here for a reason. The Order of the Arrow was based here, and he wanted revenge. But he needed rest. He had traveled for 3 days without rest because of anxiety. This had taken a toll on him.

The loud speech of drunks lured his attention to a local pub about 200 feet away. Someone who had the ability of cohearent speech could point him in the direction of a place to rest.

Hira stood before the entrance the bar and slid his sword into the sheath. It would draw alot of attention to him carring a blade into the establishment. But never one to let his guard down, he took one of his daggers out of its holster and hid it under his sleeve. Take no chances, he had learned.

He walked into the bar and sat down beside a blind man and waited for him to finish his conversation. He pulled his cloak over his face even further, not wanting to be recognized by anyone from the Order.

[Isawa]

Yumiko grinned broadly.

"Ah, Seroku, I am not poisoning you! Can you not clutch the moon when I place it so clearly in your grasp?"

She melted away from his grasp, to tap him on the shoulder. Had she truly ever been where he thought she was? It was difficult to tell. Tricky and with a love of illusion, Yumiko had often proven more difficult to catch than anyone ever counted on. Fortunately for her would-be-captors, there werent too many would-be-captors to kill themselves out of frustration. It was almost a natural reaction after chasing a shadow in circles for a month. Ah, but once in a great while she would allow herself to be caught for a longing that she could never quite quell.

She pushed the thought to the back of her head.

"You wont catch me if I dont wish it, Seroku, and dont think that you will. Within the coronet he rests, drunk on copper and hot sake. Disturb him at your own risk."

And that presence of her melted away as well, it too had been illusory. She turned towards the man just leaving the boat, well beyond Seroku for the time being. Such was the workings of illusion - the simplest of images could leave the most spotless of minds in shambles for the confusion and misgivings they wrought about them.

"DINNY!"

Yumiko threw herself upon the ancient swordsman specifically because she knew it would make him uncomfortable. He was early, that was most assuredly the first time. No fluffy bunny rabbits to save, perhaps. Far off in the distance, a loud crash and the crinkling of shattered glass.

~

Kanasu nodded to the Ni'inha who had taken a place beside him. "If you'll excuse me a moment, Makura, I would like to discuss your presence here. But first things first."

He rose and spun around to face a presence that seemed to rise out of the floor, a demonic creature of mist and ire. Fear and hatred radiated from its being - the patrons of the Copper Coronet all cowered as far away from it as they could, powerless against the terror that spread through the air itself at this vile entity's merest presence. Kanasu smiled, and rested a palm on the hilt of Sekizen, falling all too naturally into a fighting stance... then pausing. He couldnt interfere. He remembered Chihiro's warning.

Not until the moment was bleakest.

The creature spoke. "I come to destroy your hope, and devour your dreams. You all shall succumb to the unwithstandable might of the Lady Vyrisa, queen of all that was, is, and has yet to come. I destroy your last chance at freedom."

Kanasu fell into a more casual stance, his hand dropping from the blade. "And I'm drunk off my rocker! Dandy coincidence, isnt it?"

This earned the highest Seiken a lot of pain. Which is to say, the demon lifted him by his throat, and flung him through the front wall of the Coronet. Windows broke, flesh and cloth sliced against shattered glass and shards of wood, and he tumbled to his feet, looking somewhat more bedraggled than his already bedraggled normal self. Damned rules... Hira, and any others who held the right to arms in this place, would have to deal with the creature.

[Neo Hishota]

Wait... how does he know my name?

He turned as the man did, thinking he planned to leave and wanted to ask him what he knew about his business here, but then that luck of his came into play once again. He could only watched as the man flew through the wall of the bar.

I guess that talk will half to wait.

Without the slightest warning, the dagger that Hira had been hiding flew from under the sleeve of Hira, landing in the neck of the monster. The thing let out a screamed that mixed pain and anger together.

Hira reached for his trusted kodachi, and leapt towards the creature going for the chest, only to be launched into the wall. As the dust from the ceiling and the dirt from the wall mingled in the air around him, Hira quickly began to think up a counterattack.

His neck is already damaged...

He reached to his leg and pulled out his other dagger.

Let's go with that

He once again ran at the creature, but this time running at a angle. Using the nearby wall, he sprung at the monster, and lunging over it, managed to land the dagger into his higher back before getting launched out the other window, landing on the ground.

He could use some help.

[RequiemReaper]

Well, this was an unanticipated welcome.

Dinfalas felt himself hesistant in Yumiko's embrace. Not that he was surprised, just... It was awkward. He knew how playful she could get. The daughter of deception was always playing tricks, and poor Dinny was not among the spared, to an extent. There were instances he had to save Yumiko from certain doom, and those events have earned him some respect, or so he thought; she was never really *that* annoying around him. But she definately had her moments...

"...It is good to see you, too, Yumiko," he replied, finally returning the hug somewhat. There was almost no trace of an accent in his voice. It was not as perfect as Kanasu could make it, but it was damn well close enough; he spoke the Kai language as fluently as Latin, and knew more about the Mei than most men should. He was living proof that a swordsman could become a scholar after a couple thousand years of existence. It was something that came naturally over time.

Upon releasing the small girl, he looked up at the sky, remembering his purpose here. The blue of daylight was a comforting sight. Should they fail, it could be one of the last to grace Arkadia... A dreadful thought, but Dinfalas would not go down without a fight. The forces of the Shadowqueen must be met and defeated if they were all to live a normal life. He would be one to lead the resistance, and help the new blood to vanquish Vyrisa.

"Try to stay out of sight, though. You know well what happened the last time the legionnaires--"

He was cut off by his senses. What was supposed to be a warning to Yumiko ended as an incomplete sentence, his attention now directed to a dark presence not far away. It was something he had not sensed in a while. While he could discern the usual evil forces easily, this one was a little different. He could not know, however, unless he confronted it.

Then the breaking of glass, and the uneasy silence that followed...

"Yumiko, take cover somewhere," he instructed while running toward the sound. Everyone was alert and whispering among themselves, patiently waiting for the guards to check it out. Dinfalas would not share that anxiety. Taking action was a much better idea, especially against an aura so strange, yet familiar...

Something caught his eye for all of a second, in the midst of his sprinting and wonder. A small man equipped with a sword, and a face he could recognize from twelve leagues away. It was Seroku, one of Kanasu's Seiken, and a man he helped train when the master was busy getting his fill of alcohol and teasing Taka. He almost smiled when he spotted him, but now was not the time.

"Aye, Seroku! It has been a while," he managed to say in a short stop next to his fellow swordsman. "But, as you probably know, there is trouble afoot. Perhaps you should come along."

And he continued his dash, took a corner with amazing agility, and found himself a few feet away from the Copper Coronet. The presence was there. Wrapping his hand around the hilt of Incandescence, he looked around, and saw something unexpected. Two men, both tossed through windows, one standing and the other laying on a bed of glass. He knew the standing one...

[Utano_Tenshi]

He had heard it too. A strange coincidence it would seem. The only person he could suspect was that illusion of a girl.

The breaking glass in the distance, the silence that followed. 'I must be off..' he notes to himself when out of nowhere Dinny passes him with such a great amount of agility, eyes losing his friend short after seeing him- the crowd, it is too dense. He spits aimlessly to the ground beneath his wooden clad feet and dashes off trying so effortlessly to match Dinfalas, his legs seemingly too short to take wider strides, but he himself does run fast.

Shaking his head he readies his sword but for some reason he draws it before combat, he senses there will be no time to think. Carefully he steadies the blade alongside his calve- he willn’t hit any civilians, a whipping of air is all that can be heard as he passes. Darting, scanning, his orbs search endlessly for Dinfalas then he comes into sight, he has only just gained on him and this space between the two is great, he pushes onward faster, faster.

Seroku’s lips spread with haste “Aye! I will be there! I planned to before you has said anything!” he comments after this speedy devil of a man. He finally realizes it when it was too late, it came from the Copper Coronet, keenly his eyes narrow and they radiate something of anger, the two men. He looked to the other, his sight helping him none.

[Isawa]

Kanasu sighed, brushing the shards of wood and glass from first his hair, then his tattered raiments. A deft motion removed a jagged bit of glass that was embedded in his arm, and a slight disappointment claimed him as Hira's use of force suffered similar results to his attempts at diplomacy. Oh well. More diplomacy it was - he was forbidden from fighting at so preliminary a stage in the game. The pawns must move out before the rooks and bishops may advance.

As the creature turned its attention back towards the swordsman, he cocked his head, frowning. "Next time, can we maybe vote on the 'throw Kanasu through a window' initiative?"

That had fucking hurt, he wasnt happy about it. And the ranger had proven of little use. He had skill, but lacked the knowledge to fight such a creature. A knife to the neck and spine would do nothing, a spear through the solar plexus was a mere annoyance to these fiends. Of course, all things can be killed, if you simply study them. A teaching of the Seiken. Kanasu had been studying these occult beings for nearly a millennia...

"Dinny, ah..." an elder of his disciples drew close, and Kanasu whirled away from the daemon's sweeping grasp. "I dont think it liked my suggestion to excercise a democratic system!"

But Dinfalas was not alone. Behind him, far, but not too far - Seroku. One of his favorite students, Seroku had not given up even in losing an arm, he had learned to fight without it. It was an admirable thing, one Kanasu could relate to well. After the Upheaval, he had lost his eyes, and nearly his legs. Most said he would never walk again - a year later he had delved into depths of swordplay never penetrated before.

"Leave him for the kid, Dinny. A test of talents... and a word of advice," he flinched and leapt back as the beast came far too close for comfort. "Go for the eyes, he's as dependant on them as you are."

~

Yumiko watched the combat unfolding with mild amusement, perched just above them on the roof of the coronet. She had no desire to join the fight, but watching it was hardly a boring way to pass time. The people of Rome seemed to agree with her, but they always had been tainted with a love of bloodsports - the large and growing crowd didnt surprise her at all. Indeed, it amused her more than before. Now not only was Kanasu jabbering his usual attempts at a 'diplomatic solution', but he was being observed as he did it.

Democratic daemons.... that would be the day.

[Red]

OOC: Im back!! fot the tenth time or something....if you lived like I do, you would understand the degree to which I am going crazy, and why i havent been posting...anyhoo

IC: Gre'er quickened his pace, drawing closer to the city. the day was fading into a dead silent night, and the lights of the city were beginning to flicker themselves into existance. The familiar stink of civilization began to fill Gre'er's acutely sensitive elvin nostrils. A puff of wind blew at Gre'er's cloak, and almost tore his hood off, but Gre'er pulled it back into position quickly, for to lose his hood was to lose his head.

Upon reaching the walls of the city, Gre'er circumnavigated the the gates far enough to not be seen by anyguards or patrols, frearful of a search, and nimbly climbed up the wall, summited and downclimbed until he could safely jump...inside the city.

Gre'ers first need was food. This was easy. Rubbing a small ammount of dirt into his clothing, and twisting his cloak so it did not sit evenly on is shoulders, Gre'er approached the nearest reputable looking house, working the faint glimmer that comes before tears into his deep blue eyes.

Gre'er gave a short irregular knock to the front door, stood back and waited, silently preparing the facade he was soon to become in his mind. As the door opened and Gre'er was greeted by an elderly woman, he seamlessly began to play the part of a wounded and desperate (yet very handsom) young man in desperate need of food. Gre'er slept than night on a straw rooftop, belly full with the finest the town had to offer.

[Utano_Tenshi]

"Da'shoin" his lips bring into existance. With the flick of his read wrist he goes towards the creatures eyes with his ever so sharp blade, a look of hatred in his eyes"Kid?" he spits to the ground whilst his blade strikes outwards with a great agility

A dire and unhealthy issues from the creature to which boradly, a physcho he is. A and with a dash he moves from the epicenter of the oncoming earth quake which came from the depths of hell, and whilst jumping away he is knocked back with the force of the blast against a buidling. Quietly Serouku shrugs the pain coming from the blow, his eyes wincing slightly "If I can loose an arm..and weild a mighty word I can kill a deamon."

He chuckles and then he issues a mighty roar he rushes forward, his eyes and soul intent on the same thing -the deamon- and courageously he pulls his blade back high behind him and lashes with a diagnal strike, cleaving the creatures clawed hand from its being. Another blood curtling scream is echoed, Seroku winces once more and within that time that deamon already had is claws sunk into the mans side, deep deep in. With Seroku's knee's bucklign beneath him in pain he speaks not of pain or gives sound to it and again he raises his sword striking the beast from crotch to his mid riff, tearing through the mid section and then finally pulling to the neck where the blade is removed, and with the deamon having no time to react, the beast falls.

[RequiemReaper]

Dinfalas nodded solemnly, and released the leather haft of Incandescence. Kanasu's suggestion - that is, the one after his ridiculous proposal of a democratic solution - was understandable enough. Seroku was strong, but he was still growing, too. While his resolve was admirable, to achieve a goal set so high would mean a lifetime of combat, especially against non-human opponents. Thus, the Arkadian King stepped back, taking his place among the spectators.

He watched in thoughtful silence. However, he did not watch with his eyes, he closed them as soon as the battle started. Every attack by Seroku and the daemon would be analyzed in spirit, and studied thoroughly. It was a new discovery on Dinfalas' part, which happened to be the reason why Kanasu could still fight, and fight remarkably well.

His only problem was, since it was a new discovery, he did not know how to utilize it properly. It was hard for Dinfalas to follow a few strikes, more specifically Seroku's lunge and the daemon's lightning-fast counter. As he could tell from the flicker of spirit energy, Seroku didn't see that coming, either. The finale was a different story, and much to his pleasure, the young Seiken was victorious. In the aftermath, he knew he was wounded, but knew not where. His current lack of spiritual perception deprived him of that knowledge. It was discouraging, but it was dismissed immediately, since Seroku's well-being was far more important. He was more than a little concerned about the swordsman's health when he opened his eyes again.

The blood dripping from Seroku's torso made Dinfalas grimace. The beast was laid to rest at a hefty cost, and Seroku was the one to pay. However, that did not change the fact that Seroku had won, and his moment of glory would not be replaced by dismay. Dinfalas would make certain of it.

He approached Seroku as the crowd came back to life. Despite a few cheering souls, most of them reviewed the event amongst themselves, talking about how strange it was. Dinfalas, on the other hand, laid his palm on Seroku's shoulder and looked down at the daemon, smiling.

"A little reckless, but an overall good display."

His form of praise. Dinfalas acknowledged Seroku's victory before his wounds, just to give him a little self-dignity. Patting his shoulder gently, Dinfalas then released Seroku and turned toward Kanasu, a glimmer of urgency in his eyes.

"We must treat him and be on our way. There are more important matters to attend to than being questioned by--"

As if on cue, a trio of Septim legionnaires arrived on the scene, pushing their way through the bystanders. Dinfalas could have cursed his luck at that moment, but settled for a sigh instead. These men alone would not be that much of a problem. Perhaps if they made it seem like less of an incident than it was, the interrogation process may only last a few minutes. Or, if everyone was feeling bold enough, they could run. Something like that would probably mobilize a mob, but worse has happened.

And will, soon enough.

[Isawa]

Kanasu yawned and stretched, sniffing the air. A hint of brimstone from the rupture in the ground, Seroku had indeed destroyed the creature. Not to say he had expected his disciple to fail - his students rarely failed at tasks he assigned for them. Rather, he was a bit concerned as to the more terrifying things a Da'shoin could impart if improperly dispatched...

"Not bad, kid. Another few centuries and you may be a match for Dinfalas." He chuckled. "Of course, if he learns to use a broadsword as a broadsword, just may be noone to stand in his way..."

Of course, before Kanasu could finish his little diatribe, the presence of the legionnaires coming onward passed over his perceptions. What impeccable timing these men had! Shove aside the common folk and kill some poor people who just saved the city from certain doom... no appreciation. Indeed, he could read the foul energies of anger upon their signatures. He guessed the leader probably had a stomach ulcer by now...

"Good day, sir!" He called out to the halberd-wielding brute before him in a deceptively calming voice. "Lovely weather for a brawl in the streets, dont you think?"

He ignored Yumiko's laughter as the guardsman flushed bright scarlet, his face wafting purple light from the intensity of his rage. Okay, he wasnt really glowing purple... but damn near! Now it was a certainty that he had a stomach ulcer somewhere. What a terrible fate, and very painful... Kanasu grinned, swaying back and forth like a drunk man. As luck would have it, he was a drunk man.

"You! Disturbin' the peace and all that! What the hell is happenin' here!" The guard sputtered, spraying foul-smelling saliva in a cone before him. "Brawlin' aint legal ya slanty retch! I takin' you in!"

Kanasu threw his hands behind his head and sighed. "If you insist, sir. But might I request that you dont sodomize me? Im not attracted to large hairy men in armor."

A vein on the Septim man's forehead throbbed dangerously, looking as if it may pop. It seemed rather sure that the blind man wasnt helping the situation. But perhaps he had a plan, perhaps he had a reason for his speech. "Dammit! You think because you a damned slanty I wont throw ya on the racks?" Pure venom expelled from the gaping maw of the enraged legionnaire. His eyes betrayed hatred unlike any Kanasu had felt from a human...

"I appologize, sir. I meant no offense. Blades beneath the earth, crossed at midday... can I buy you a drink? And teach you a bit about anger management?"

Dinfalas, Seroku, and Yumiko would catch what he meant. Blades beneath the earth, crossed at midday - it was sheer nonsense meant to sound like philosophy. It was also the password Julian demanded of anyone seeking refuge in the warrens beneath the Copper Coronet. Before the fuming warrior could react with violence, Kanasu was upon him, fingers striking rapidly - gouging the eyes with a precise blow. His right hand, hanging loosely at his side, flashed the sign for "Run!". He hoped someone saw it, and hoped they obeyed.

Last thing he needed was his disciples interfering in a perfect plan. Yumiko seemed to catch the drift, and immediately melted away into the Coronet. The other two guards raised their pikes as the leader doubled over, clutching his face and screaming in pain. Kanasu smiled noncholantly.

"Im sorry... did I do something wrong?"

Kanasu knew he could wreak no more violence upon them, the strike for the eyes was already overstepping his limitations. He hoped Chihiro would forgive him in the good name of allowing the others to escape unharmed. That said, he bowed with a flourish, knowing full well what would happen next: the flat of a halberd came down hard on his head, and he fell to the ground, reality swirling into blackness around him.

[Aun Shi]

The strange series of events to be only baffled Aun increasingly as he surveyed them. Several noticeable details stuck out that suggested that the blind man knew some of the crowd. some of which were displaying curious behaviors themselves. One man had his eyes closed and another had laughed at the blind mans remarks. Aun watched on while drawing his hood closer..

Aun's lingering feelings still slept deep inside him, but at the current moment, it showed no presence because there was a new danger on the scene, megalomaniac legionnaires that had no happiness in thier lives. Aun slinked back a bit regretting that he didnt have a chance to inquire what was being said earlier. Maybe the others that he noticed hanging about silently among the boisterous crowd. He turned his back towards the guards as the approached... but still kept a wandering eye amongst the scene. Aun Shi felt a bit dismayed with a smile on his face when Kanasu had sentenced himself to be captured, bowed and slinked into unconciousness. But before all that had happened, Aun did see the hand that displayed some sort of communication. He didn't know what it meant but some of the surveyers saw it as well. It was then Aun decided that it would be best to ask what was going on from them, because his current choice was now being hoisted up.

"Hey!...Stop right there!"

Aun knew this was directed as him because otherwise his body wouldn't have locked up and sent a chilling shudder up his body. Overcoming his fear he started briskly walking away from the copper coronet hoping that they would leave him be.

"Remove that hood or sentence yourself to extreme pain!"

The guard had caught up with him and sent him spiraling into a nearby wall jerking his hood off and grasping him by the neck. Aun had let a grunt as the other guards came to subdue him.

"I don't recognize you... Where are you from?"

The menacing voice of the primary guard was enough to make Aun want to kill him and escape, but he knew what it meant if he did.

"Say something peasant!"

A few moments passed and Aun showed his guiltyness of being a foreign. He was becoming filled with adrenaline and he couldn't contain it anymore. A brisk knee to the solar plexus was all that he could pull off before turning around to the same halberd that had taken the blind man earlier.

Aun too slinked off into darkness...

[Red]

Gre’er moved swiftly from rooftop to rooftop, as silently as he could manage. There was some commotion ahead, and this sparked the curiosity in Gre’er. Arriving finally at the scene, he looked down….a young man was fighting a daemon, and doing well. Gre’er smiled. The man fighting was more powerful than he expected to see in such a run down city of filth. Of course filth breeds strength, and Gre’er had been proven wrong before, though such memories were quickly purged from his conscience.

The fight ended quickly, and guards soon appeared on the scene…quite predictably late for the important part of the show. Gre’er smiled. City guards. A pinnacle of stupidity and lack of insight. Easy to foil, dupe, connive or any other of such crimes. But they were strong, and Gre’er preferred to stay away from them when possible. The guards quickly began to brawl with the people had had only just slain the daemon. Also expectable: they were foreigners, thus criminals instead of saviors.

The braw quickly ended, only one knocked flat and hauled off. The remains of the party moved towards a long deserted tavern. Gre’er craned his neck to hear what they were saying, but he was too far to pick up any discernable fragments of their conversation.

Quickly and silently running behind the group, Gre’er drew ever closer, until he was finally behind them. He knew it was far to brash to be save, but his curiosity had swollen inside of him, and had to be answered. Drawing near to the las to of the group, he cleared his throat to make his presence known. The man that was trailing the group spun around in surprise and anger. Gre’er delivered his question with an innocent unassuming tone.

Much to his surprise the man merely answered in a gruff voice “follow.” Gre’er raised his eyebrows…this man did not know him. Quickly analyzing the situation in his head for dangers and advantages, Gre’er did as the man suggested, and made haste with the group. Following an unknown group was dangerous, but Gre’er was clever, and it gave him a chance to entangle powerful allies into his overarching causes.

[Utano_Tenshi]

With no intention of being a prison bitch Seroku would sheathe his sword with a certain haste most knew as fear, he had seen the sign which prevailed from his masters drunken hand and he would follows those instructions to the very death of him. Taking to his feet and ingoring most everything around him, ecept the legionaires and Dinny, he would brsuh himself off as if dirtied, which he soley was, coughing as blood rose from his ugly wounds which the demon so lovingly imparted to him, that asshole deserved being sent back to where it came.

Sensing his leave should no longer be delayed, Seroku, he creased his knee and would begin to run, but wait! No he couldn't, the girlie guards would notice him taking leave and they would be filled with a bitter sorrow that he left withought word in such a manner so he decided he would take the quiet approach no matter how much he hated relying on the shadows on on passes and buidlings. Walking as straight as possible for a noticably injurred man, Seroku took through the gathering crows when he heard a suden shriek proclaiming he she stop and be taken for arrest, but no it was another that they would chase and to this he sighed and moved onwards with shadows coalescing about him, swallowing the heroly figure whole to hide him from the cruel world of war which he came to so soon hate, have a bitter contempt for.

Not too much later he would be at a local in, in a town not to far off but in the middle of nowhere, asking the barkeep for a rooom in which he could rest, taking the key in his hand and in return placing a copper in the fellows, taking to hiis room, going for rest

[RequiemReaper]

'Blades beneath the earth, crossed at mid-day...'

Dinfalas blinked. The phrase was familiar, if not committed to memory, but Kanasu managed to startle him with it. Chihiro had said it before, just before he left Kazekai, and asked him to remember the words. Why, however, is what escaped him.

"...The password..."

His eyes lit up with acknowledgement. What was once a vague thought came to full bloom, and the force of understanding set him ablaze with newfound urgency. They had to see Julian, the barkeep of the Copper Coronet, and recite those words to enter the underground passes of the tavern. It is where the group was to wait for Pinku and his hordes to invade, while granting them the privacy to plan ahead. Of course, it was also a great way to evade the Septim guards, not to mention Dinfalas didn't have a better course of action.

Anything was better than prison, at this point.

He waited for an opportune moment to move. That came when Kanasu gave them the signal to run, in which Dinfalas promptly turned on his heels and shot after the cat-girl responsible for a rather affectionate greeting earlier. A total of three people had reached the cobblestone building, and quickly became four as Dinfalas instructed a stranger to follow, who apparently was following anyway. His presence was relatively powerful - a mage of some sort, to be sure - and would make an excellent addition to the team, granted he accepts the terms they present.

Once inside the Copper Coronet, the only evidence of life was the muffled ruckus outside and the shuffling of footsteps. In other words, the place was deserted; there was no sign of another person, not even Julian. Dinfalas skimmed the darkness everywhere in an attempt to find the barkeep, a search that should be shared by the likes of Seroku and Yumiko. As the seconds stretched into minutes, and after calling Julian's name numerous times, the swordsman was becoming desperate. It would not be long before the Septim guards came lurching around...

"Julian!" he tried once again. "Blades beneath the earth, crossed at mid-day! We seek refuge in your warrens."

This time, there was a response. A shout, coming from somewhere below, but too vague to actually understand. Dinfalas cocked his head, straining to hear the words, but failed. It was one of the few times that humanity had worked against him.

"Yumiko... What was said?"

- - -

There is something to be said about the sputtering of a dying boy. When the execution is performed with a little taste, a morbid scene becomes an exquisite display of emotion, a piece of artwork. It was a shame he could not share it with anyone else. Then again, it was sweet to think that only he has seen it, and that was satisfying enough.

The child was suffocating, a wonderful fate. His lips had been stitched together, clamped in a perfect smile, and his eyelids were pinned to their rims. He looked like a doll soaked in blood, eternally fixed with a blissful expression that would horrify any other person. The way he writhed on the pavement and moaned was simply beautiful.

Slasan smiled.

It had been a long time since he was able to make such a precious toy. In fact, he had not done something like this since his days of terrorizing the J'hara. Oh, how he hated war - it took the fun out of creative murder. It was all about killing as fast as possible, and for an artisan like himself, that was the least desirable scenario. It was more fun to hear them scream, watch them suffer, and witness their passing in a classic manner than relieving them of their head.

Still, some things were necessary, and there were objectives to be met.

He reached for the rope attached to the reverberating instrument within the bell. Indeed, all of his work had been conceived within the confines of a bell tower, one not far from the commotion caused by the battle. It was troublesome, yes, but allowed the menace the time he needed to make the kid pretty before casting him into oblivion. And now, his work completed, it was time to intervene. The rope was tied firmly around the child's neck, and whatever life he clung to would spiral away as Slasan tossed him off of the ledge. With each swing, the bell tolled, chiming before and after death. It echoed over the battlefield, bringing a grim and omnious silence to the crowd, and to the guards.

It was not time for the bell to toll. And, even if it was, it should not have tolled for this duration of time.

Before anyone could inspect, his crimson mane would no longer be in sight. However, the purpose of the event was fulfilled - the people were coming to the tower to see what was going on. With their attention diverted, two more creatures of the shadow would go forth, and nothing more than their prey will be there to oppose them.

"It seems we have some conspirators, m'lady... But their blood will rain nonetheless."