Isle of the Last Knights

[Lord Kenshin]

OOC: Basically it's about a group of people living in the ages of castles, kings and knights. Anything goes that has that theme to it. Dragons and fairies, winged creatures and others are welcomed. Have fun with the story.


Char Name: Lord Azreal Scott
Hieght: 6'2
Weight: Lean 193lbs
Hair Color: Light Blonde
Eye Color: Soft grey
Muscle Build: A little about average
Other appearances: Abs, well defined muscles, tan, scar on his right thigh from a duel.
Weapons: Dagger and Long Jagged Bladed Sword dubed the name Demon Reaver
Armor: Light chain mail
Clothing: Loose soft leather pants and a plain white shirt, boots
Other info: He wears a medallion around his neck of a cross with a large jewel in it, the jewel always seems to be glowing




IC:
Azreal made his way along the path, his home and small village being left behind him. He used a small, straight branch as a walking stick, pushing it solidly into the ground with each step. He was still angry with himself for not being there when the village was torched down, the wizard having used his powers to send his small army of dark knights to battle against a pacifist town in the Northern Lands. He had won the battle and was in high hopes as he returned home, only to find everything and everyone gone. He had immediately made up his mind to leave the village and search for a new place to start over.

Mumbling to himself as he made his way along the path, his eyes on the ground in front of him so he didn't see the large wall and wooden gate until his walking stick bumped into it.

He frowned and said, "What the hell is this doing here?" He looked around him, for scouts or any other form of life. He shrugged and slipped into the gate and onto the other side, still searching for anyone that was alive.

 

[Lady Violet]

i want in. will post character when i think of one..

 

[Lord Kenshin]

Ok.. I'm happy someone actually replied.. I was worried my newcomer status would lessen my chances of starting my own thread..

 

[Paendragon]

OOC: I'm in, too.

Name: Ian Stormwalker
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 190 lbs.
Age: 35
Hair color: White, bound behind head at base of skull, long. Goatee same color.
Eyes: Black, yet clear. Like crystal.
Weapons: Two long daggers. Long staff.
Skills: Master Mage.
Armor: Light mail and leather.
Clothing: Long black cloak with deep hood.
Info: Considered extraordinarlily young to be a Master Mage. One of the rare Warrior Class. Deadly with the daggers, but magic is what makes him dangerous. Stormwalker is his assumed name. Real one is unknown.

 

[faust]

OOC: Count me in!

Name: Chief Ortega
Height: 5'9
Weight: 215 lbs
Age: 50
Appearance: Coal-black hair. Piercing gray eyes. Bronze, weather-beaten skin. Built like a barrel, short but very muscular.
Weapons: long javelin, throwing hatchets
Armor: clad in tribal clothes made from cured leather.
Bio: Until recently, he was chief of the Nighthawk tribe, natives of the Eternal Plains. Led his warriors on many succesful hunts and raids. Has the scars to prove it. Following tribal custom, he relinguished his title upon turning 50. The rest of his life is to be spent in endless wandering. Currently on the road, heading south with no specific destination in mind...

 

[Lord Kenshin]

OOC: Wow! Thanks for joining in. Spots still open so everyone can still join.

I forgot something on my first post about my char.
Age: 25
Bio: Master with the sword, enhanced speed and agility. Had been considered a Legend of The Sword (Mythical clan of only the best warriors.) He renounced this title upon the destruction of his village and has taken up wandering in search of a new place to house in, and perhaps someone to love, though both seem in low chance.

 

[Lady Violet]

OOC:

Name: Princess Imogen of Glastonbury (pronounced I-mo-gene)
Age: 21
Height: 5'8''
Weight: A lady never tells
Description: Long, thick golden-blond hair, usually done up in the current fashion. Pale blue eyes, fair complexion, no deformities, flawless skin with a tint of rose colourings.
Clothing: Dresses of the current fashion, made with real silks and imported cloth. Her favorite being a mauve colored dress that appears blue when caught by the light just right (bought for her by her mother, before her passing).
Personality: She's light and blubbly, about average smarts. She enjoys to read in the garden, paint and sing.
Bio: Imogen grew up with everything at her fingertips. She's never known hardships of any kinds, never had to suffer. At 17, her mother passed away from lung sickness, her father never recuperating the loss. He suffers alone in his rooms, leaving the dealings of the kingdom to his advisor.


IC:

Imogen sat at her dressing table, examining herself in the mirror. She picked up her powder brush and gently touched her cheek sending a cascade of powder into the air. Sighing, she put the brush down and lifted her skirts to stand up. Her dress, a rich green with lace trimming and bows, swayed around her legs as she walked to the balcony. Looking out over the mountains, Imogen rested her arms on the railing, her eyes taking in as much as they could. "I'm going to miss my mountains" she said.

"I'm sorry to hear that Princess."

Imogen turned around, startled at the voice she recognized as her fathers advisor.

OOC: I'll leave it there for now. If someone wants to come and play the advisor, ok. If not, I'll write another post later.

*hugs all her buddies*

 

[faust]

IC: Chief Ortega watched the sun raise its golden crown above the horizon. Letting his pack and weapons fall to his sides, he knelt down and recited the Prayer of Dawn. "I thank the Great Spirit for letting me enjoy the sunshine one more time. In Thy infinite wisdom, please watch over us worthless mortals; guide us with your light and give us strength to face our foes; protect the Nighthawk for we are your children; and allow this loyal servant to see Thy Path in all its glory." The ritual completed, Ortega picked up his belongings and once again set off toward the south...

 

[Paendragon]

On the trail of the Enemy

Stormwalker knelt in the center of the small village, picking up a handful of dirt. He could still feel the Energies used to raze it to the ground. The dirt itself was warm, as if just taken out of an oven, and tingled slightly on his skin. He threw it to the ground in disgust, and pushed himself to his feet with his staff.

What crimes could have caused this? He would bet none, knowing the enemy. He had been alone when he felt the draw upon the Great Well, felt the immense power being consumed. It had nearly knocked him off his feet. It had been easy to pinpoint the location of the Wizard then, all Magi could figure general direction when the Great Well was tapped, and the more power that was used, the more precise the location could be gauged.

He had arrived moments afterward, but had been already too late. What had once been a thriving community, had already been reduced to ashes.

That was when the stranger arrived. Ian whispered a word, and drew upon the Well, and seemed to vanish. The stranger came from the south. He had light blond hair, and wore leather pants and a white shirt. He carried a long, wicked looking sword, and moved with a grace that showed him to be a fighting man. The anguish was plain on his face when he saw the village. The sword came out immediately, and he ran to the edge of town. He then began a search.

Ian watched him for a while. He could sense Power coming from the man, and not just skill in warfare. He carried something, Ian could feel it. A talisman perhaps? No, something more... something stronger.

The stranger sheathed his sword, and seemed to make up his mind to leave. The expression on his face was one Ian had seen before... the promise of veangence. The stranger took a few steps, and stopped dead, slowly turning his head and looking directly at where Ian was standing. Stormwalker was startled. The stranger seemed to be sensing him! He knew that some warriors of old had honed their battle sense so much that they could sense what their eyes could not, but had not known of any outside the Natives of the Eternal Plains. The stranger dismissed it, and turned away, continuing his trek out of town.

Ian waited until he left, before reapearing. He would keep an eye on the young man. From a distance of course. He could be a useful ally in the fight against the Dark Wizard.

Stormwalker whispered a few words, and a doorway made of energy opened before him. With one more glance at the ruins of the village, he stepped through.

 

[Paendragon]

OOC: Ummmm, that's a doorway made of ENERGY up there. Damn my spelling!! *Fixed it, but for some reason can't erase this post! Thanks Bobo*

 

[bobo_daclown]

OOC:

Paendragon, just to let you know, you can edit posts if you were registered to post them. Helps when you notice a spelling or grammatical mistake right after posting. Also helps guys like me to save face.

At http://www.takeourword.com/Issue036.html , it is explained how we get the word fairy and such. Anyway, my character will be a Fay. Fairy is the word that we use for Fay present day.

If you would prefer that I not be a part of this thread, let me know and I will erase my posts.

 

[Lord Kenshin]

Azreal wandered on past the gate, still trying to shake the feeling he had in town. He knew there was something there, but if it was the Dark Wizard, Azreal would have been dead almost immediately, or close to it. He frowned at this thought, could the Wizard being toying with him? Leading him out into another village only to let him make another home, and then destroy it? No!.. He wouldn't let it happen. He would defeat the Wizard or die of the fire before he saw another town come to ruins as his had.

He kept up this battle within his mind as he wandered along the path. Perhaps the gate had been a barrior between two kingdoms? Though he had never been owned by a king, or by any other royalty. But he sensed something, dispair perhaps. The longing to be with the dead, and to be with the living at the same time. Perhaps this was the king he had heard the Dark Wizard's soldiers talking about. The one's that had posed a queen's death by making it look like some sort of lung infection.

"Damn them," he cursed the dark minions out loud. Such horrible things they have done, and only Azreal himself has been brave enough to stop them. He kept on wandering, searching for the source of this grieving. His skills as a warrior pushing him on, perhaps he would find a new ally where he found this troubling past.


OOC: Hey hey. Nice story addition Paendragon. Made me take notice to the things I missed. Anyway.. Keep posting, the story is looking wonderful.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bobo le Fay:

They told me that it would be a simple test. All I should have to do is to fly up the waterfall--any Fay could do it. Brother Bea laughed at me, Sister Clow mocked me, and even Sister Wor insisted that I should fly against the current--and in the presence of water--I hate water.

I suppose being the runt of the litter has it's drawbacks. I wish I could brag that I am six inches like my brother Wol or strong like my brother Weir. Actually, I'm not. Standing four and three-quarter inches tall, I am the youngest and shortest of the eight siblings in my family.

We live in Faerie and are the Fay. Faerie is an island of sorts, in that the only way to and from is by water. None can enter our realm but those born of magic: Dragons, Fay, Elves, Leprechans, and certain nymphs. We can visit the other lands by following the rivers from our island to the other worlds. Unfortunately, I happen to do just this.

Spiraling upward, dodging the falling drops of water and the torrential waterfall itself, I race against the water, hoping to make it to the top alive. Suddenly, it hits me--not an idea, but a sudden smack of water. The falling stream cascades down on me and soaks my wings. "Oh blast!" I don't know if the words ever exit my mouth, but those two words are definitely on my mind.

In the blackness of unconscious, I fall down the waterfall and into the river at the bottom. Flowing down the river, course unset, my mind stays black.

 

[Morgoth]

Bob turned in surprise as a crackling sounded from behind him. He spun about and found looking at powerful magic. Tendrils of power creeped outwards from a pulsating yellow circle. The circle abruptly shattered, and in it stood a cloaked figure. "Who the hell are you?" asked Shraeder, the thug of the village, who had come to stare at the wonder as well. The figure too a deep breath and jerked it's head up. Two red eyes burned like hot coals in the things hood. It raised a hand and the Shraeder collapsed to his knees in a bow. The figure walked up to him, and delt him a savage blow that left Shraeder gasping. "Wha... What do you want?" he sputtered out. "For you to die!" hissed the figure. Bob shuddered as he heard the horrible voice. It was beautiful, melodic, yet so evil that it stilled the very singing of the birds. The figure put it's hand out and Shraeder collapsed to the ground, face-first. He started sinking. He kept sinking until the ground would no longer give. Then, the pressure from the figure's power simply crushed him. Bob had stared at all this dumb with horror. Now, he turned and leapt into the woods. He looked out. The figure had raised his hands and chanted a few words. Streams of fire began to course out from it's feet, incinerating the village and it's inhabitants. Bob wandered off wearily. The figure looked about at the destruction it had caused, nodded, then walked off.

Lokken woke up with a start. He was in a burned down hut. a few yards off, a crushed corpse lay in a small pit. Lokken leapt up in surprise. "Shit! What's going on?" he yelped. "Man, I must be really damn lucky. For once, thank Belial for that teleportation sorceror!" he shouted to himself. He surveyed the carnage about him, and seeing nothing or no one he could possibly help, walked off.

 

[Paendragon]

Ian stepped out of the gate near the small riverfront cottage he called home, but his mind was everywhere but there. The Dark Wizard was getting ever more bold with his pillaging. And what was the purpose? Death for the sake of death? Or something darker? The Magi must hear of this. Surely this proves that we must act!

He walked into the cottage and turned left into his small study. Centered in the room was a small upright stand, shaped like an extended arm, with an upraised palm. Cradled in the palm was an orb of clear crystal. Ian leaned his staff against the wall, and stood before the orb, whispering the words that would activate it. The wizened face of an older man appeared slowly from the depths.

"Hail Warrior Mage," the old man spoke first as was the custom. "What news?"

"Hail Elder," Ian replied. "It is as I have feared. The enemy is on the move again. Four villages in six days, razed to the ground. Hundreds of innocents killed."

"Innocents?" the Elder answered. "You knew these people, Stormwalker?"

Ian frowned at the crystal. "There were children present, Elder."

"Ahhhhhhh, I see."

"Elder, we must act! The non-adepts cannot stand against him without our help, surely you must see this."

"All I see is you still in disagreement with us. These matters are none of our concern. The humans can take care of their own problems."

"Elder..."

The old man overrode Ian's protest. "You are ordered to return to us, immediately. Your place is here."

Ian stiffened, and frowned at the Elder. "My place is where I'm needed. And I'm needed to oppose the enemy."

"You would go against our ruling in this matter? Do you understand the consequences?"

"Have they changed since i left you one month ago?"

"They have not," the Elder replied. "Banishment from the Order."

"I understand, Elder."

The Elder nodded, and faded from the orb. Immediately a light began to glow inside it, getting brighter with each moment. Ian backed away from the Orb, and willed a shield into position just as the orb shatterred, pelting the shield with fragments. His connection to the Order was cut off for life.

For the first time in thirty years, the mage was alone. He couldn't suppress the shiver that rolled up his spine. Alone.

He turned and snatched his staff off the wall, and stalked from the cottage.

The fools! They believe this is of no concern to them, so secure in their power. If the Wizard isn't stopped now.... He shivered again, and looked toward the river. He would stop him. First he would need help... and he already had an idea where to find it.

He held out his hand and called a waterskin to it, then walked toward the freshwater river to fill it. He would pack some provisions, and then he would search for the stranger he had seen by the village.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bobo la Fay:

Clear blackness turns to blinding white. My small eyes flutter in the midday sun. Alas, I am on a river; and, by the looks of it, far from my home. The current has brought me to a strange land with grass colored green, did you get that? Green grass, ha!

Unlike the crystal-clear water of Faerie, the river here is far from clear. Although many of you would consider this bluish water to be remarkably pure, it cannot compare to the main lake of Faerie. Already I miss home, and I've only been gone... I wonder how long I have been unconscious, floating at the river's whim.

I sure hate water--now more than ever. First off, wings work very poorly in the water. Not to mention the fact that I cannot swim. After all, why learn to swim when you can learn to fly? Flying is much more convinient and far less tiring than that wet mode of travel. A piece of flotsam floats past me and I struggle to grab on. Unfortunately, I cannot catch the wood without swimming and I cannot swim. Flowing downstream, watching the flotsam do the same, another piece of wood hits me from behind. Quickly, I latch onto the wood and heft myself out of the water.

The log is much safer than the water below. After all, fish have problems leaving their watery abode. I spread my wings in the midday air and hope they will dry soon. Lucky to be alive, all I can think about is getting out of this damned river.

Surveying the scene from atop my barge, I notice that the river seems to head forever uphill and upstream toward a mountainous region days of travel from here. I ask myself if I could have been unconscious that long. Turning back to the direction of the water, I see a huge creature barely in the water.

Scared for my life, I try to distinguish my options, I recall a lesson from my schooling about a small nation of people called Humans. Watching the beast ahead, I reckon that he must be one of these Humans. Upon closer inspection, he is filling a container with water from the river. Actually, he doesn't seem so scary, anymore.

I realize that my barge will float quite close to the Human and I may be spotted. Should I try to hide? Should I jump back into the water and hold onto the wood? Drats: that would mean waiting for my wings to dry even longer. Should I trust this Human to help me? Should I call out to him? What if he tries to eat me? I heard my brother Weir talking about huge creatures that eat Fay.

While pondering the possibilities, I look up briefly to see the Human as the flotsam passes by him. Without thinking further, I call out sharply, "Help me! Help me, please!"

 

[Paendragon]

The small voice, a shout of a whisper, grabbed the Mage's ears. His head snapped up just in time to see the unbelievable. A rather wet and miserable-looking Fay clinging precariously to a broken log, floated by.

Ian whispered, and held out his hand. The air gripped the ends of the log, and scooped log, water, and Fay into the air. The little creatures eyes widened momentarily, than narrowed slightly.

The log hovered in the air, then moved to the shore, where it landed gently on the ground. Unfortunately, the water turned the ground below the log to mud. Ian winced. He would only help the Fay to the ground as a last resort. The Fay were extraordinarily rare this far North, so much so that they were a myth to most humans. The last thing Ian wanted was to scare this one off. Plus, they were not nearly as fragile as they looked; In fact, they could be quite fierce when necessary.

Instead, Ian slid away from the Fay so as not to crowd him, and crossed his legs. He then whispered a few more words that ignited a twig a foot away from his small companion. And winced again, when the small one jumped. "Fool!" he thought to himself.

"Greetings friend. I am Ian Stormwalker. The fire should help you dry off some. I'm afraid I wasn't expecting company."

Ian smiled without baring his teeth. Some races felt the baring of teeth to be an aggresive move, and Ian had no idea whether the Fay were one of them.

"By my customs, you have Guestright. Whatever I have to offer by way of hospitality is yours. Food, or drink, my friend?"

 

[Guest]

OOC: Well this sounds like a thread I would love to be a part of.

Name: Matthew Blain
Age: 26
Height: 6' 4"
Weight: 220lbs
Hair: Blondish brown, tied in a pony tail at the back of his head.
Eyes: Brown

IC:

Matthew walked around the hill top and wondered if what had been going on recently would have a direct effect on his lands. He had heard rumors of bandits roaming the countryside, especially the large forest and he had asked some friends to see what was going on. But they had never returned and he was becoming increasingly worried. He turned around and walked to his horse, knowing that he was going to go into the woods- to see what was going on.

As he reined his horse into a gallop he wondered what was down in those woods and he wondered if he was going to come back alive. He smiled when he felt the weight of his broadsword against his back and knew that as long as he had it he would have a fair chance.

 

[Angelus]

Oh whoops.... sorry about that. That last post was mine.

 

[Lady Violet]

Imogen of Glastonbury

IC:
"I'm sorry to hear that Princess."

Imogen turned around, startled at the voice she recognized as her fathers advisor.

Imogen bowed her head in respect, not hers mind you. "Sir Rutford, I did not hear you come in".

"My lady, I have come to tell you that all has been arranged for your transport."

"Do you think its wise for me to be leaving now? I have heard rumors about villages being burned and people being killed."

"I can assure you, my dear Princess, that they are in fact only rumors. Your fathers illness has you worried, and I am catering to his, and the kingdoms, every need." Rutford smiled a dark smile, sending shivers down Imogen's back. She walked quickly to her dressing table and finished putting her items in a small trunk, which also held her gloves, a shall and "womanly items". The rest of her belongings were already on their way. Turning back to Rutford she said "I'm ready to go, but I want to say goodbye to father first."

"Of course, dear. Take your time. The carriage will wait for you."

Imogen walked past him, but Rutford took her arm and spun her around until their faces were only inches apart. "Princess, these are precious times. Aiding your father by marring his ally will surely give us a better chance of keeping this kingdom alive."

"I understand" Imogen nodded. "But surely you understand that if you harm one hair on my fathers head, I'll have yours sitting on a pole before you can shed a tear."

"My Lady" replied Rutford, letting go of Imogens arm and bowing. Imogen picked up her skirts, turned swiftly and walked out of the room.

It was a tearful goodbye, on both sides. She knew her father had every faith in her and she would uphold the duty of being a daughter, but she would miss the mountains with a longing she wouldn't fully realize until she returned home.

OOC: Ok now... someone stage a robery, then come and rescue the princess!! ok?? please?? lol

BTW!!! Sir Rutford.... maybe the evil wizard?? Hmmm???

 

[Lord Kenshin]

Dark Wizard// Good Knight

OOC:
Since no one has come forward as the Dark Wizard I shall play him when the needs arise.

Char: Dark Wizard (Real Name unknown)
Height: 6'5
Weight: 150
Age: unknown
Hair: White, tied long behind his head in a pony tail; Long goatee of the same color
Eyes: Dark black, flares red when using magic
Weapons: Burnt Staff with an Elder's mage's skull on it
Armor: None
Clothing: Robes, untied in the front; Loose gi pants and a normal shirt
Bio: The Dark Wizard has been ravaging towns and villages since before most of the Elder's were created. His power's have never been challenged in fear of ending up like the mage skull he has on his staff. He's developed the power of controlling the minds of the simple, and of the ones with dark hearts buried deep in their souls. He's also developed the "simple magics" as he likes to call them and can use them at will.


Dark Wizard:

He had been perched at the window as Imogen and his minion, thie Sir Rutford, had their little arguement. He moved quickly, summoning upon The Well as he teleported himself to the carriage and stepped inside, one of his henchmen being the driver. He leaned up to talk to his minion.

"You will not be taking us anywhere close to that Kingdom as to which Imogen is going to be married," the driver nodded as the Wizard continued, "You will deliver her to my kingdom, untouched and that is where she will stay for eternity..."

His voice trailed off, hearing the princess's footfalls from outside the carriage. The Dark Wizard raised his hand and mumbled a slurred phrase, and at once the carriage was empty.

As the carriage pulled off to start for the Wizard's kingdom, the Wizard himself let out an evil chuckle from his perch on top of the castle, waiting for the carriage to be out of sight before he burnt this castle to the ground.


Azreal Scott:

Azreal had felt the small surge of power ripple through the air. He cringed, knowing that had to be the power of the Dark Wizard, either using it to control more people, or gathering it to destroy someone else's lives.

He broke into a quick sprint, heading in the direction that the source of this magic had come from, using his keen abilities to keep watch for any traps or anything that might harm him.

"This isn't my fucking day," he mumbled to himself as he continued to sprint, hoping to reach the source before it was too late.


Dark Wizard:

The carriage had finally departed the castle's gates, heading in the same direction that Azreal was sprinting from. The Dark Wizard turned and raised his staff, the skull at the end glowing brighter and brighter as some of the townspeople turned and gawked at him.

He smiled with and evil cackle of a laugh. His lips moved, no sound audible to the human ear being able to pick it up, and a giant rush of flames engulfed a small shack at the edge of the castle walls. The Wizard continued to draw from the Well, his power increasing incredibly.


Azreal:

He stopped suddenly, shocked by the new power rippling along the air. He bent at the waist and held his stomach, the same way he had felt when his own village had been raized.

He forced himself to stand upright, to continue on as he had to save someone, save the lives he could. He began to sprint again, only this time as he was looking for enemies, he spotted a carriage, and one glance at the driver proved that the Dark Wizard was up to something, sending his minions over to help in his evilness.

Upon seeing Azreal the driver bounded from the seat and onto the other side of the carriage. Azreal could see the opposite door open and a yelp of surprise as someone was pulled from the carriage. Azreal drew his sword and slowly made his way around the back of the carriage, not wanting to draw away from his now easy attack. He peeked around the corner and saw the back of the minion, and a woman dressed in royal clothing.

Azreal drew a deep breath and swung out from behind the carriage, his sword glimmering in the dim light of the woods as it easily slide through the minions back, from his right shoulder to his left hip. He let out a cry of pain as he dropped the knife he had been holding to the lady's neck and dropped to the ground, grabbing at the slash in his back.

Azreal moved quickly picking the lady up and putting her back in the carriage, he himself jumping into the drivers seat and turning the carriage around, snapping the whips and sending both the lady and himself back toward the way she had come.


OOC:
I'll continue later.. let everyone else play a role in this. Have fun

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bobo le Fay:

As I yell at the large human, he stops and looks up at me. Reaching out toward the log I ride, I wonder if he can reach it. Alas, without ever coming near the log, he manages to pull it to shore. Trying to figure out what enchantment to use on this beast, should he try to eat me, I am interrupted by the thud of landing on the ground.

Then, the human creates a fire for my by magical means. This human must be part magic or maybe he is a changeling left behind by one of the Fay--after all, he would have been an ugly baby.

The surprise of the fire causes me to leap backward; and, as the human tells me about guestright, I struggle to regain my balance. Eventually, I return to the top of the beached log. Looking down at the muddy ground, I note that I will not leave this log by foot.

I think about what the human said to me. "Human named Stormwalker, what I need is to get off this log and to get dry. Please carry me away from the water and lend me some cloth." As he approaches, my subconsious reminds me of the beasts that eat the Fay. Then, I remember my mother telling me that dragons do not eat fay because we kill them if they eat us--something about being poisonous. Maybe we are poisonous to all creatures.

"Oh, and Stormwalker, remember, I am a Fay. Your magic doesn't work on me."

 

[Paendragon]

New Allies

OOC: Woohoo! Damsel in distress!! *Flipping through Hero's Handbook*

IC:
"Of course little friend."

Ian rose to his full height, and walked toward the Fay, before squatting and holding out his hand, palm up, next to the log. The Fay warily stepped into his hand. Ian was surprised at how light the creature was, being barely able to feel his feet on his palm. He moved his hand slowly toward the fire, and placed it on the ground. The fay stepped off quickly, and turned his back to the fire, spreading his wings.

"Of course, " Ian thought. "The wings would be most important to him."

Ian reached inside his cloak and pulled out a small (by human standards) hand towel, and cut off a nice Fay-sized strip, and handed it to the Fay, who proceded to dry himself off with it. Ian stood up and tapped hip finger on his lips.

"Now, where to get clothing to fit you? I'm no taylor, and even if i could use my magic to make pants..." he paused, finger freezing on his lips, the Fays last words echoing in his head... ""Oh, and Stormwalker, remember, I am a Fay. Your magic doesn't work on me." Magic doesn't work!

He looked again at the Fay, who was both drying himself off, and looking at Ian quite oddly. Not afraid, just curious, and maybe, Ian laughed to himself, wondering if his host was altogether sane.

The Fay were an ally no one would expect, but how could he get them to agree to help? After all, they were in no danger from the Dark Wizard.
His head snapped up, looking to the east. Someone had tapped The Well. It was a relatively minor spell, but with the Magi cloistered in their Tower, it could only be one person. He looked toward the Fay.

"Little friend, I'm afraid I can't help you with clothing, bu I might be able to fashiona sort of body wrap when you are dry. In the mean time, I'd like for you to humor me in the listening of a short tale."

Ian told the Fay of the Dark Wizard, and his crimes, and Ian's fight to stop him. The Fay continued to dry himself, watching Ian. Then finally flapped his wings a few times, and nodded to himself.

"Now, Friend, I have a favor to ask you. We can not match the Dark Wizard in his power. He has made pacts with the Dark Spirits to increase his power to impossible levels. I'm considered the strongest mage in memory, and I could not stand against him alone." Ian looked down at the ground, and again at the Fay. "Could your kind be persuaded to help me? I would be forever in their, and your, debt. I would hear any price required, and pay it gladly, as long as it harmed no one."

Just then, another flash of Power from the East made his stomach clench. He spun around, facing the direction of the blast. He held out his hand, and his staff shot from the ground, and smacked into his palm.

"He kills again. I must go, newest friend." Ian tapped into The Well, soaking up the Power. "I would ask your answer, will you help me?"

 

[Lord Kenshin]

Azreal:

It took Azreal roughly 5 minutes to make it back to the front gates of the castle, which had already began to burn. A quick glance to the sky determined that this was indeed the work of the Dark Wizard.

Azreal turned to the lady in the carriage, "I'm sorry miss, but you'll have to stay here.. I wouldn't enjoy it much if you died after I had already saved you." He gave her a small smile before turning and hoping off the carriage and sprinting for the gate.

He turned and rammed his shoulder into the burnt gate, the pieces coming apart as he rolled through it, the flames leaping out around him. He continued the roll until he was able to pop up back to his feet, drawing his sword from the sheath on his back. He looked up to the Dark Wizard who had already begun a long flight back to the ground. Azreal gave a cocky smile as he took a few steps closer to where he already knew the Wizard was going to land.


Dark Wizard:

The Dark Wizard gave an sickening laugh as he touch his feet softly on the ground, his staff immediately being pointed at Azreal as he mumbled another slurred phrase. A time far longer than eternity seemed to pass before a long, thick stream of electicity shot from the end of the staff and hammered into Azreal's chest, slamming him back into a shack that had yet to be burnt.

"Now you shall die Azreal!" The Wizard gave another evil chuckle as he moved forward, hoping that he had finally killed the pesky warrior.


Azreal:

Azreal groaned in pain, the blast knocking the air from his lungs as it had sent him through the wooden wall. He rolled over and gasped for breath, picking his sword up off the ground and hurrying to the right side of the hole, hoping the Wizard would slip in his attempt to kill Azreal and step through the hole without checking to be sure he was dead.

"Come on you bastard, you're time is about through," Azreal mumbled to himself, wishing he had had time to train before this next encounter.

Not wanting to waste too much time in the shack, Azreal picked up a broken piece of wood and hurrled it through the hole, charing out behind it and hoping to catch the Wizard off guard.


Dark Wizard:

The Wizard side stepped the object that was thrown at him and barely had time to move before a sword came slashing at him. He continued to back up, giving Azreal the time to regain control and attack once again. What stopped the Wizard from firing another blast of electricity was the glowing coming from the man's necklace.

"Damn you," The Wizard spoke hoarsely, obviously surpised at this act of vengence, "why can't you just die like the rest of your villagers?"

The Wizard raised the staff again, drawing more power from The Well, summoning upon his greatest fireball to destroy this mortal.


Azreal:

"I shall destroy you Wizard!" Azreal lunged once more, knowing that the Wizard was drawing upon a spell to finish him. His sword made a clean slash through the robes the Wizard wore, a small spot of blood appearing on the tip as it came free of the robes.

"Ha ha, got you," Azreal smiled cockily as he exclaimed this, still charing at the Wizard, "This time I won't miss the finishing blow."

He swung again, his sword merely inches from the Wizard's neck.


Dark Wizard:

The Wizard grumbled in pain, stepping back once more before lowering his staff and firing a medium stength fireball right into Azreal's gut. He watched as the sword slashed across his cheek before following Azreal into the stone wall about 50 feet behind them.

"Damnit Azreal, why won't you die?" The Wizard was becoming more determined to kill Azreal by the minute, but something deep within him told him to leave before something unexpected happened. He was already cut twice, and he had come close to losing this battle before the fireball had erupted into Azreal's gut.

The Wizard ran his hand across his cheek, smearing the blood and looking into his palm. Only a small amount had escaped from the small flesh wound. He raised his staff above his head and summoned upon The Well one final time. A small portal opened behind him and he stepped through, darkness enveloping him.


Azreal:

Azreal groaned once more in pain, trying to stand but finding it utterly impossible. His breath was labored and he felt as though he could have just been smeared under a castle. Until unconsiousness encased his mind, he felt nothing but pain, trying to will himself to get on his feet and try to save others before he saved himself.


Dark Wizard:

The Wizard appear out behind the carriage, smiling to himself as he summoned upon The Well and using a small spell to push the carriage through the gates and into the burning court yard. The carriage wheel becoming nothing but flames as they passed through the gate, finally breaking off and lunging the carriage itself to the ground.

"Now you shall all die together," the Wizard let off one final cackle and stepped back through the portal and back to his hidden kingdom in the Dark Territories.


OOC: I had to put the damsel back into distress.. Couldn't be the only hero... Enjoy fellow RPers

 

[Lady Violet]

Imogen of Glastonbury

Imogen gingerly stepped into the carriage, taking one last look at her home. She blinked from the sun. She thought she saw something of a dark shadow standing on one of the turrets, but she dismissed it as the sun playing tricks on her.

She tried to get as comfortable as possible, but it was hard in this carriage. Comfort was not actually concidered a luxury, she thought. They had been travelling for only a short distance when the carriage stopped all of a sudden. Imogen was about to call out to the driver when the door opened suddenly. The driver, expresionless when he looked at Imogen, grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her outside. She screamed for him to let her go, not understanding what was happening when the driver fell to the ground, letting her go. She saw blood leaking about him, but before she could react someone picked her up and put her back in the carriage.

"This certainly isn't my idea of a comfortable voyage" she muttered to herself. She stuck her head out the window in attempts to see who was driving the carriage.

"Stop this carriage" she called out.

"Can't" came the reply. "Have to get back to the castle".

The castle, she thought. What is going on. The carriage stoped abruptly and the man who was driving peared in the door.

"I'm sorry miss, but you'll have to stay here.. I wouldn't enjoy it much if you died after I had already saved you." He gave her a small smile before turning and hoping off the carriage and sprinting for the gate.

Imogen was about to tear out her hair. What was going on!! She got out of the carriage and watched the man running through the gate, the castly on fire.

"Father" she shouted, as she leaped from the carriage.