Terrormoon Adventures Vol. 2 (I.C.) (Invite Only)

[Gothic Shujin]

(post in the o.o.c. thread if interested in joining, please)

-PROLOGUE-

(Uknown artist...found on www.allposters.com)​

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Roughly 30 years ago the renowned trade kingdom of dementia underwent a drastic change...The clouds grew dark and foreboding...its lush rolling hills became desert wastelands....Its majestic jungles and deep forests filled with thousands of rows of mighty oaks, grew twisted and gnarled. They latched on to wagons that attempted to carry their wares to town and cutt deep the men and women whom tried to pass between them. They were an insult to what they had once been....and the land cried out.

This frightened many, and a petition was made to the king at that time for assistance in stopping his horrible dark abomination of nature...none of the alchemists however had any inkling of an idea as to what was causing these ghastly disturbances and changes in their peace loving world...

Soon it was discovered by a caravan passing through from another land that not only the land had changed, but the population had as well....

The earth literally ripped open and legions of foul demons crawled forth, threatening villiagers and the decent people of a once thriving kingdom. In the madness that followed many an atrocity was commited and the royalty of the time, locked themselves up withen their castles and towers in terror as innocents were mutilated and women were raped...

(http://www.hentaifactory.com)​

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These violations created all sorts of half bred outcasts, entire generations of demon spawn born and townfold slaughtered. Correspondence and travel became practically non existant due to these monstrous fiends...and the great silence that took over dementia was only ever broken by the horrible scream of its new burden....

The Lord of Dementia sent his bravest and brightest out to solve the riddle of the land, and bring harmony to what was now forgetting the definition of such a thing, but none returned...

In his desperation he petitioned a foreign land for help...one where they had no such problems, and yet where one's heros were not quite as 'honorable'. Perhaps it took a demon to slay a demon...

One answered this call, and while not many are alive that recall this hero, it is said that great good was done for the cause. Even this mercenary was unable to stop the great scourge that swept the land, but in discovering that all of this pain and anguish was created by one soul he destroyed it... an arch-necromancer living deep in the duchy of Terrormoon. The tide was turned to the favor of neither man nor beast on that day, and many have learned to live with the dangers that most have acclimated to...it has stayed that way for some time, and no one recalls where the hero vanished....

It is the end of a long day, and the rain pelts down on a beaten, gloomy Dementia...the time to add a new burden to the old one is near...

 

[Gothic Shujin]

The Stranger and Nyx Eori

The Stranger and Nyx -Deckmar was a town rank with theives...as the couple walked through its filthy streets they knew better than to stop and give the beggars any sympathy. While it wouldnt really be dangerous for them...the two could handle themselves...it would slow them down, and time was still on their side.

The male wore a nearly pitch black armor, with purple highlights and runes on various places. His long, straight, black hair flowed under a full helm he wore wich obscured everything but deep red eyes. At his side was his trusted blade "Verdelith" a dark paladin's blade...he adjusted it soit would not make the young lady on his arm uncomfortable...

She was a vision...especially soaked in rain. As they hurried to get her dry, she shook her hands of the droplets, causing a bracelet he had given her to shake. The girl had a lithe form, and while curvy, pleasantly thin. Her gorgeous blue eyes were always a turn on for him, but not as much so as her mid-lenth midnight black hair. Later she would have to change from her cheery bright dress, into something darker...for the task at hand...but for now her appearance pleased him very much.

Finnally through the more "seedier" part of town, they turned on the last abandoned house and came across the "Slaughtered Lamb"...a local drinking hole....where the two had business...

Stepping inside they looked around...just about what they expected...a long wooden bar to their right, a row of decrepit stools for patrons. Behind the bar stood a portly bald man cleaning out a mug with his own saliva. Yes...a page right out of the sterotype book.

On the left, where the pub was better lit, were the seats and tables...further back there was a stair rise...and up on the higher floor where more stools, chairs, tables and the object of his desire...a message board. A posting ground for bounty hunters like themselves. He escorted the lovely girl to the bar, and without shooting the barkeep so much as a glance preceded to the back of the Slaughtered lamb.

He tacks a notice to the board.....

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By order of Lord Midnight in the kingdom of terrormoon-
It is decreed that 'Critikill' of "the dark eyes" carry the charge of reclaiming an artifact of great power inside the borders of Dementia wich has been wrongfully removed from Lord Midnight's treasury. Any who aid him will be greatly rewarded as proclaimed in this year of our lord XXXX.
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While hammering the peice of parchment to the board he thought about his past, the occultist abbey he was raised in when he was an orphan had not prepared him for many social intereactions...he was lucky he met Nyx a few months ago... if she only knew where he was from...and how once during a summoning in the church, a beast from a blackened portal had leapt out and bit him...leaving him partially infected with vamparism. If Nyx left him, he couldnt go home again...the abbey was razed by a heretic necromancer...and after that he tried to make a decent life for himself but was chased out of a town were he had taken a wife, after the townsfolk found out that he belonged to a sect of the very occultists responsible for why Dementia is what it is today...

He truely belonged no where. It was nice to be with someone who was as persecuted as he was...

Nyx sat on her tool...dripping wet, and wringing out her clothes...she was glad to get dry and soon, otherwise she would have been in a world of shit. Critikill looked busy putting up the ad for bounty hunters. She watched him wondering what he was thinking about, and if he had plans to get a room here while they waited.

What set the girl apart from others, that is, the reason she felt a bond of pariah with Critikill was her most painful weakness and potent strength. Nyx was a mermaid. Her race suited her profession as a rogue quite well, though most mermaids who make their living in secret among the land dwellers choose to ply a trade as a magician of some stripe. The need for secrecy is because the milk of a mermaid has a variety of unique magical uses that no other magical ingredient quite duplicates. Therefore, mermaids fetch a high price in various illicit markets. A mermaid takes a massive risk in revealing herself to anyone....and yet she told him.

Meeting in a town long away from here, he had defended her when she was about to be discovered, though he did not know this and was acting rather out of character at the time...she saw what she now considers the 'true' him.

The Unholy paladin called her over to a table by the posting, on the raised bar floor and once she joined him the two sat waiting for replies...

 

[LatinLady]

Lorandielle Silvermoon had spent the better part of her day tracking Sir Ronald Longmoon through the woods to the north of Dekmar. The rain was coming down and her red leather armor was soaked through. Her flame colored hair was plastered to her body and her red eyes showed how weary she was. She was both physically and mentally tired, having not been able to partake in pleasures of the flesh for 2 days. Sir Longmoon was a young nobleman who had fallen into debt with Mar’Kaleo Sijn’or, a creditor of sorts in Dekmar. It seems Sir Longmoon had an affinity for women and wagers and didn’t make good on a payment. Mar’Kaleo hired Lorandielle for 10 gold pieces to retrieve Sir Longmoon unharmed.

She managed to find him on a hill 2 hours ride north of the town, where he had set down for the evening. He was bent over his meager fire trying to cook and not having much luck. Sir Longmoon’s clothing was, for lack of a better word, in disarray. His once fine linen clothing was in tatters and his boots were muddy from the day’s rain. He was young, by her standards, having barely reached 35 summers in age. His body was tone and muscular. Lorandielle could feel the stirrings of desire in her loins as she watched him struggle with his meal.

Lorandielle managed to walk up to his fire without his noticing and she held in one hand her trusty sword and in the other hand a single, swirling bright mass that can only be described as a ball of fire, “Sir Ronald Longmoon I presume” He turned around with a look like a deer staring down the bolt of a crossbow. His eyes were wide and his pupils dilated. He made to get up and Lorandielle shook her head slowly, holding the ball of fire even higher for his benefit, “Sir Longmoon, I would not advise your attempt to run. Either my fire or my sword can easily find their mark on your back as you run.” He contemplated her words before speaking, “Milady, I know Mar’Kaleo sent you. Please, let me go and whatever he paid you I can double.” She laughed at his offer, “Sir, I have been hired to bring you to Dekmar and that is what I intend to do. Bribery will get you nowhere.” She advanced on his makeshift campsite as he scurried back trying to stay as far away from her as possible. He ended up on his sleeping blanket dirtying it up with his boots. “Cooperate with me Sir Longmoon and you may yet live. Now please, the dagger in your boot” She sheathed her sword and held out her hand, as he withdrew the dagger from his boot and handed it to her. She dispelled her fireball and pulled a piece of rope from her bag. She could see the fear in his face as she knelt down, tying the ropes around his ankles. She whistled and from the darkness emerged a pair of bright eyes, and upon closer inspection, a black stallion, so dark that if he closed his eyes he would blend into the night. Sir Longmoon looked on in fascination at the woman. Slowly he began to take in her form. From the long slender sweep of her neck, to the graceful sway of her hips and the point to her ears, she was a fine specimen of a female elf. Sir Longmoon began to wonder what it would be like to be with an elf. He had never had the pleasure of bedding an elven woman.

From the saddlebags she took a pair of manacles and placed them on Sir Longmoon’s hands. As she approached him she could sense his lust. Even through the fear of being taken back to Dekmar his thoughts were on lust and she could sense it. A slow smile crept into her face as she locked the manacles onto his hands. He would not have been her first choice, but it had been two days since she had been able to partake in the sexual acts and she had been told not to harm him. Her employer said nothing about using him. Slowly she stood and began to remove her armor, allowing him to watch the rest of her form come into view. She removed her leather jerkin and the linen shirt underneath exposing her pert breasts. Then she removed the leather breeches and linen underpants. She left her boots on not wanting to dirty up her feet. Sir Longmoon’s expression went from mild fear to extreme lust. Even manacled and on a dirty blanket she could see his member straining against his pants. She descended on him like a hungry beast, un-bucking his pants in one swift motion and lowering herself on top of him. She bounced and rode him like a wild animal. He grunted and panted under her, not a word was spoken as she coaxed what she needed from him. This continued until they both screamed out in ecstasy. At the moment of orgasm her body was set in a red glow. Her features contorted by the power returning to her. She could feel the strength rejuvenating every fiber of her being. Sir Longmoon didn’t have the chance to see this. Her body sapped him of his sexual power and he passed out from his orgasm. Slowly she stood up, got dressed and bed down for the night.

In the morning, Sir Longmoon was still groggy when she draped him over her saddle, climbed on behind him and headed for Dekmar and The Slaughtered Lamb Inn. It took roughly two hours to get there and the rain had begun again. Once she hit the edge of town word spread to Mar’Kaleo that she had found Sir Longmoon. She left her stallion our front and headed into the in. Mar’Kaelo was waiting for her at one of the tables. She threw Sir Longmoon on the floor like a sack of potatoes. She held out her hand and collected the ten gold. Mar’Kaleo thanked her and asked her where she would head to next. “Wherever there is work for money. Why Mar’Kaleo? Do you have another job for me?” Mar’Kaleo laughed and shook his head, “No Milady, but there is a bulletin up there and I have been informed that there is need for someone of your, shall we say, talents” Lorandielle thanked him and headed towards the bulletin board. It said a gentleman by the name of Critkill was in need of assistance. Next to the board sat a man and a woman. Lorandielle grabbed the writ nodded at them and held the writ up. “This yours?”

 

[Vero]

Talia

The pair seemed both oddly and perfectly matched, like the halves of yin and yang, balancing each other. The large tiger was agitated, sitting, muscles taut under the shining pale and chocolate striped fur, tail thumping against the floor, his ears flicking toward every sound in the tavern, even compacted with his hindquarters under the table he filled the space around him with strength and no small amount of controlled menace. Conversely, the slender girl seated above him was languid, her long legs draped over the table, well made, well worn boots aimed into the room, her delicate fingers wrapped around a sturdy mug of the local swill. Her form, even stretched out as she was, seemed to be nearly translucent, her tendency to dress in dove grey only heightening her pale skin, making her fall on the eyes like a shapely shadow. Only her hair and her eyes punctured the vision, as if their color was so vibrant, so full of insane energy because they had drawn the vitality from the rest of her body. She flipped her long braid, her stripes sun gold on burning-coal red, over her shoulder and sighed. Her hand was small on the giant head, but at her touch he turned to meet her gaze, her energetic, vivid blue eyes to his icy calm ones, “Paragon Clifford Timeous, will you relax? I got a table by the fire just so you could do your impression of a fur rug. Besides, if you get too jumpy they’ll throw us out and its raining pretty hard out there.” A low growl from a predator nearly six times your mass at arm’s length can usually stop a frail human being from continuing to pester the animal, but she merely sighed “and stay civil, or when they throw you out I’ll make you sleep outside, by yourself.” At the threat the beast grumbled softly, but hunkered down, huffing as he lay his head on his paws.

Admittedly, her soft voice was of a tone and quality that could soothe many a savage beast, its timbre spoke of bard training – falling on the senses like being surrounded in the softest of velvets, deceptively caressing as if she had murmured into your ear while strong hands rubbed tension from your muscles with warm oil. It spoke of delights, of the release of care or concern, and often elicited one or both from the listener.

She watched the newest posting go up on the board and with her unhurried grace stood to her full height. “Watch the pack, stripes, I’ll be right back.” She walked to the bar and turned in her mug for a refill, asking for a large bone for her cat. She didn’t appear to carry a coin purse, but a quiver of fingers later revealed a few silver and the innkeeper sent a serving girl to the kitchen to look. She didn’t dress to take advantage of her figure – her soft, flowing blouse covering her skin from her thin collarbone to the base of her thumb in near formless grey, even so the lay of the fabric revealed pert, round breasts and hinted at wild curves. Her grey leather pants, however, hid very little, and seemed to be nearly painted over her round hips and tight ass. She did wear a slim equipment belt, with a dagger the length of her forearm and hefty enough to stand up to some serious use as well as a few pouches of the usual gear. Her tall boots were marked by use, but could stand up to a lot more. Her clothing was simple, but of the highest quality, made for durability, utility, and comfort, and crafted specifically for her, understated wealth. She moved with a liquid control that spoke volumes to a measuring eye – her body did precisely as she wanted it to, at just about any speed she deemed useful.

She scanned the notice and collected her fresh mug and the thigh bone of some grazing beast from the serving girl. On her way back to the table she let her gaze drop to the dripping pair who had posted the sign. “My partner and I could be interested in helping you with your problem, depending on how well it pays.”

 

[Butch]

Jay

As the wine was being poored Jay couldn't help to wonder when he'd be found out. It wasn't that he didn't think he was convincing, it was just that, at a fancy high class dinner party such as this he was bound to be recognised sooner or later. Even though he was miles away from home, this was high society and in high society you recognised the most eligable, wealthy bachelor in the land.

Ever since being disowned by his family Jay had been forced to learn how to look after himself. He'd ventured into robbing merchant's carriages but soon realised how much pain this caused them. They all had families to take care of. He had only himself. That's when his plan came to him; when being removed from his home his vanity had got the better of him and he'd managed to smuggle some of most expensive attires out of the mansion with the help of an infatuated servant girl. Using these, he convinced several local high-ups such as mayors and wealthy businessmen that he saught their daughter's hand in marriage. Blinded by his splendor they invited him into their homes hoping for fame and fortune. He charmed them all with his handsome face and good manners. It usually took weeks after his disappearance for them to grasp what really happened. They'd been robbed by the gentleman thief. By then he was long gone, along with their riches and their daughters' love. He'd mastered it into an art and most girls didn't seem to mind sharing their virginity with a man they'd just met.

However, he was getting a bit nervous. Caparisone had been gone way too long for a believable break to the privy, he was up to something.
"Where did you say your personal lay, m'lady?" he asked in that tone of voice that just melted the women.
"But, Jacob..." giggled the young lady Sara of the wealthy Caparisone clan.
But wait. Did she really say Jacob? Had he been foolish enogh to state his real name? Or did she know?
"...Papa will know." she continued. The time was right, he had to take a risk.
"That will matter not when we're husband and wife, my rose. 'Tis time. Take me to your chambers." The nobleman tone worked wonders with these girls, this one being no exception. She obediently led him to her chambers and let him in.
He handled it as best, listening to the signals of her body and making sure she was heavily aroused before finally inserting his generous member, little by little into her warm chamber of love til it was all in. He started out slowly and gradually increased both speed and roughness until they both embraced in a kiss and trembling fell to the matress. This was his reward. He only stole enough money to buy food and occasional shelter. He was in it for the love. The only trouble with virgins was that they came so fast. On the upside though, they usually just wanted more and could go two or three times more the very same night. Lady Sara, however, was fast asleep after the first.

After tucking her in, he got dressed and left the room with making a sound. Now it was time to get to work. He shut the door behind him and made his way to the treasury. After about ten feet though the words:
"Freeze, impostor" stopped him where he stood.
He turned to face lord Caparisone, his guards and the very tiresome lord Malloryn who'd been on his trail since the beginning.
"You're hereby under arrest and sentenced to execution" said Malloryn in a very satisfied tone of voice. "Thank you, Caparisone. You will be righteously rewarded for this. Now run along and let us seize the boy."
"No deal" said Caparisone "The boy owes me. And he's going to repay me. In blood. Shed by my hand." He looked Jay deep into the eyes and said "Jacob Constantine, you are hereby challenged to a duel of life. Unsheath your rapier!"
Malloryn gave him a look that said; fine, old man, it's your life.

Jay faced the bulky man and took his staring position. They both bowed and in unison yelled out ; "En garde!"
Jay instantly sensed that Caparisone hadn't fenced for years and that he'd never been any good. The fight barely begun before it ended; Caparisone just lashed out wildly and left his guard wide open. Jay made an offensive outburst and hit the rapier out his hand. He put his rapier against the neck of his opponent.
"Go on. Finish me, boy." said Caparisone. Jay felt a strong, cold shiver on his spine and sort of froze for a second or two. He couldn't do it.
"I'm sorry boys" he said "can't stay. I have an appointment with another fat man who can't fight. See you around." With those words he tripped Caparisone off his feet and rushed to the gate and out inte dark.
"Guards! Guards!" cried Caparisone "Seize him!" But they were too late.
"You truly are stupid" said Malloryn "We had him. But you had to fulfill your personal vendetta. He's one of the best fencers in the world for crying out loud."

Jay ran the thirty or so yards to the abandoned tool shed he'd used to change. He shut the door behind him and started to change back into his inconspicious his clothes: clothing in light brown colors, a thick robe in dark forest green and ankle high boots which were ideal for moving quietly. This had been way to close. This meant he couldn't use the scheme anymore. He'd be wanted man. That moment he saw something he'd missed before. There was a sign carelessly thrown on the floor, he picked it up and read:
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By order of Lord Midnight in the kingdom of terrormoon-
It is decreed that 'Critikill' of "the dark eyes" carry the charge of reclaiming an artifact of great power inside the borders of Dementia wich has been wrongfully removed from Lord Midnight's treasury. Any who aid him will be greatly rewarded as proclaimed in this year of our lord XXXX.
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The details definetly looked shady but he could really use the money. He was great with both bow and rapier. Of course he could be of help. Besides, it could probably get him his good name back so he figured "I'll go for it" and headed out in the hope that he wasn't too late.

 

[Geryon]

The rain beat down heavily on Edaell, even through the heavy cloak he wore, the hood pulled up to hide his face. He plodded through the muddy streets of the desolate city, looking for a place to stay. So far he had only found taverns and inns that frowned on the patronage of an "outlander." The thunder crashed behind his as he pushed open the door to another inn.

***

It was a bright, sunny day, with a high wind and full sails. The spray off the bow of the ship misted across Edaell's face, the taste of salt in the air. This would be the first time any of them had really left home. He, and about a dozen other men and women who were headed to the mainland. The "Forerunners," they had been called, sent to seek out the source of the disturbances rippling across their home, Cyrae. So far it had been an uneventful voyage, and the Sailmaster said they would likely see the mainland in a few more days.

***

Edaell pulled back the hood of his cloak, his dark hair dripping in the dim light of the tavern. A pair of blue wedges, like broad slashes, were tattooed on the side of his face. They were signs of rank, and continued down beneath his shirt to his chest, dividing repeatedly to form an intricate pattern. It was a low rank, the patternwork of blue inks scarcely spreading past his shoulder. His dark green armor and clothing, despite being perfectly suited for his native jungle environment, marked him as an outlander as sure as any sign. His boots echoed hollowly against the wooden floor as he approached the bar.

***

The sounds of bowshots could he heard all around him, the arrows hitting the water like raindrops. The creature had surfaced twice so far, and already the ship was crippled, sturggling towards the land mass visible in the distance, but still seeming so far off. As Edaell tried to steady his bow, waiting for the monstrosity to appear again, a slimy, webbed claw reached up from the depths, seizing yet another of the Cyraeans aboard the ship. Edaell's sword flew out of its sheath, cleaving the thin but powerful appendage near a knobby joint. Writhing, it withdrew into the depths. After a few tense moments of silence, a tremor could be felt through the deck. An instant later, Edaell's world spun as the ship capsized.

***

Taking a seat at a table in the corner, Edaell had his first chance to really survey the place. It seemed the type of establishment that couldn't afford to turn away any customers. It seemed the place for him. An assortment of rough-looking patrons dotted the various tables scattered about the large room, probably mostly travelers. The... disturbances... were much worse here than back home. Deep green eyes caught a notice posted on the wall, not too long ago by the looks of it. Nearby the note, there was an ominous-looking pair, whom a few comments were directed to by those whose curiosity led them to the notice on the wall. They had posted it, Edaell decided. From the look of them however, he would wait and see what rabble would rally to them and their mystery note before making any other decisions.

***

The sun was beginning to fail, dark clouds forming on the horizon when Edaell woke, lying on the beach. Four companions were left with him. Four companions, and an uneasy feeling of many pairs of eyes watching from the woods not far off.

 

[mermaidtabitha]

Nyx

The black-haired girl with Critikill perched on her barstool, wringing out her bright red dress. The hemline of the garment rode up high on her thighs as she squeezed excess moisture from the still-clingy material. She was getting dry enough to know that an accidental Change wasn't a danger anymore. The relief was visible upon her face, even if the reason for it wasn't. The mermaid loved spending time in her ancestral form, for play more than work (hard to pick a lock or sneak through a house when you can't stand or crouch or walk), but the prospect of changing in a place this seedy was a frightening one.

She had turned to wringing out her jet black hair when she noticed the arrival of first one, then two women. Her striking blue eyes slid lazily up and down each woman as droplets spattered on the half-grimy, half-dusty floor behind her stool. Not much in the way of words passed the mermaid's lips as she watched and waited; her man was on the business end of this. She contented herself with enjoying the feast provided by her eyes and the workings of her own imagination. Another trait of mermaids is the outsize libido.

[Butch, is your character in the Slaughtered Lamb, or in the tool shed?]

No reason not to be accomodating though, she thinks to herself, breaking from her reverie and actually speaking to the few people that have arrived. "Hi there. I'm Nyx, and the tall drink of water here is Critikill."

 

[Gothic Shujin]

Critikill

The apparition's sword shook at his side quietly...not out of fear, but impulse...it told him that a powerful spellcaster was nearby and without communicating with it telepathically...he knew imediately who it was....

He found the dark elf's Red eyes and flame red hair attractive but was concearned as to her reason here...she obviously had business with that gentleman over the matter of a bounty she was collecting...chucking another gentlman that looked worse for wear on the ground in front of her. The two appeared to wrap up their business as he scanned over her body. He knew that Nyx was probably enjoying the sight as much as he was...and could more than likely feel the strange aura of sex that was rippling off of her...

Running a hand through his companion's Dark onyx hair he asked her if she was ok, and she nodded mindlessly, apparently paying great attention to the other woman in the slaughtered lamb...

This one was also exquisite...she sat comfortably for a moment...her long legs draped atop one of the inn's tables, before getting up and approaching the bar. She left her pet, a large and ferocious looking white tiger at her seating. He watched her move and imediately knew she was fleet flooted and agile. 'Its true' he thought to himself... 'Deckmar is indeed rank with those of the theivish arts.' She wore a grey top that blended in with her pale skin, and while the blouse wasnt tight, his eyes were drawn to the firm apple of an ass that wiggled just under it as she leaned into the bar counter.

At that moment another arrived...a foreigner Critikill thought...or a member of a tribe he was not familiar with...and the dark paladin knew mostly all. Pulling down his hood, the man's wet hair dripped down into his face...what appeared to be two blue tatoos ran down the sides of his profile and neck...dissappearing into his dark green armor. The new arrival took a position in the corner...'good choice' the unholy one thought.... 'back to a wall...exit in clear view...can watch the entire pub...hes no fool,' he concluded. Critikill wondered if he would take up the charge posted moments ago when suddenly the sexy, red clad, dark elf spoke to him...

“This yours?” she held the post in her hand...

Without a word he nodded. He kept his stare and attention outward towards the door, keeping everyone in full sight. From the corner of his red eye he could see that Nyx had turned to get a closer intoxication of her beauty..."Hi there. I'm Nyx, and the tall drink of water here is Critikill." She was the only person other than his ex-wife (now deceased) that he let address him in such a playfull manner.

It appeared things were picking up...perhaps this was the right place after all....
demonstrating her attention to detail from at a far the rouge returned to her table while reading the note...“My partner and I could be interested in helping you with your problem, depending on how well it pays.”

'If it its gold she seeks then getting her to take up this difficult charge should be easy'....He finnaly broke his silence... "It pays very well...the likes of wealth that i assure you one can only imagine." His voice seemed to stop all other sound, the hellish pitch and earie way in wich it resonated through the tavern sending chills through the spines of its patrons...in one sentence he made it clear he was no mortal man....he only hoped that Nyx was not equally repulsed by it, his cold loins were growing warm, being surrounded by both strange and familiar eye candy...and he had hoped on getting a room with her later.

 

[LatinLady]

Lorandielle

The man simply nodded. He was interesting in appearance, the most unusual color purple eyes that resembled swirling lavendar pools. Lorandielle could get lost staring into those eyes, but she would not allow herself that luxury. There was something about him that set Lorandielle's mind to wonder. He appeared human but something about him didn't quite seem right. His demeanor and a strange aura from him was making her uneasy. His companion spoke, Hi there. I'm Nyx, and the tall drink of water here is Critikill. I took in the form of the woman next to him. There was only one way to describe her, breathtaking. She was still trying to wring out her wet clothing and most of her leg was exposed. Lorandielle had never been one prefer a woman over a man but this woman could seriously give her a hard time deciding.

"Pleasure to meet you Nyx and Critkill"

Just then another woman and her 'companion', a rather large beast approached My partner and I could be interested in helping you with your problem, depending on how well it pays Lorandielle nodded to Critkill and Nyx and was about to sit down at their table when Critkill spoke. Lorandielle's skin began to crawl at the sound of his voice. Immediately she knew what he was It pays very well...the likes of wealth that i assure you one can only imagine She turned to face him, trying to read his deep purple eyes. In her native tongue there was a word for this type of being, Ster'goi, the walking dead. This man did not appear to be of the full variety, perhaps some mutation or combination with humans. She was about to speak when something else hit her. Arousal. Critkill was looking at her and she could sense his slight arousal. Her own body began to respond and throb. She had partaken the night before, but still she could not deny it.

"Well Critkill, if I may call you that. What kind of wealth are we talking about here." Lorandielle sat in a chair across from Critkill,regarded him with her red eyes and placed her hands on the table. To most people this means nothing, to a seasoned fighter and someone who lives by their sword this means she has offered them her trust and is displaying her hands away from her weapon in a sign of faith.

 

[Gothic Shujin]

Critikill

"Pleasure to meet you Nyx and Critkill," the sultry red haired magus began... in her voice Critikill could hear a hint of attraction, this pleased him...but instantly his sword spoke up...

"Jack-ass dont even think about it...Nyx doesnt need you lusting over some damb bimbo who could prolly cast a holy spell on you if you dont sleep with her and fuck your shit up real good!," Verdilith was apparently in a good mood....it wasnt nearly as bad a complaint as he expected.

'Hush your mouth slave! I may be partially undead but im still allowed SOME desires, besides i was only looking...and NYX probablly wants her more than i do. If you continue to pester me you'll not taste blood for a fortnight...i have another blade with me....is that understood?'

The black blade was silent in his mind...

'Good.'

"Well Critkill, if I may call you that. What kind of wealth are we talking about here."

She sat down at the table and Critikill sized her up...he noticed she layed her hands flat on the table...and obvious gesture among those our class of work, implying that she was to be trusted and meant no harm. "The lord of Terrormoon is over ten thousand years old...and served as the mentor of the previous ruler. He has at his disposal all the riches you could imagine...as well as some you cannot...as i mentioned. Any who succeed in reclaiming what he has lost, may ask of him whatever they wish...." He accepted her warm greeting by extending his hand...wich was the second part to it...being that he had a charge however...to take his hand was to sign up. He wanted to make this crytal clear... "take my hand if you are interested and let us draw strength from each other..."

The thought of touching her...even in his plate mail, gauntlet hand, excited him... and he felt guilty.

Behind the counter the barkeep kept a look out on the door...he appeared to be very nervous...perhaps it was all the strangers in his pub or perhaps something else...

The rain patted the roof of the tavern....soundling like a thousand tiny fingers trying to get in...

 

[Butch]

Jay

He'd somewhat overrated his speed but now he finally stood outside the place. "The slaughtered lamb" he read. How grotesque. As soon as he entered he realised that he wasn't the only one who'd heeded the call. The inn was almost packed with warriors as diverse as they looked strong. He felt kind of out of his league; these guys looked blood thirsty. He thought a second or two about leaving the way he he came but changed his mind when he took in the sight of the three stunning women who'd already joined that shady looking knight.
He gathered himself and approached the party.
"My name is Jay Constant and I think you'd want me to join your quest."
Everyone seemed shocked that the young man who'd just entered had the nerve to even address them let alone interupt their.
"I've yet to meet my match in rapier or bow. So what say you?" he continued. He pointed to the signpost "This is your notice, is it not?"

 

[Gothic Shujin]

Critikill

"My name is Jay Constant and I think you'd want me to join your quest." , a cocky young man had entered the pub while Critikill was extending an invitation to the wizzardress...

Annoyed at the interuption but very pleased at another potential turn out for his charge...the unholy one looked the youth over....

He looked small...and kind of scrawny but Critikill knew better than to judge by appearances. He had once met a demon lord gnome...no bigger than his shin that practically sent him to the other world in a heart beat....
While he doubted this one had such power...there is no accounting for arrogance and potential...yes...this one would do nicely, and the male to female ratio was working itself out...Critikill was very pleased...and smiled a dark concealed grin withen his full helm...

The new arrival wore a garb of light brown colors, a thick robe in dark forest green and ankle high boots. He appeared to be a human, and by the quiver he kept...an archer...

"I've yet to meet my match in rapier or bow. So what say you?" he continued. He pointed to the signpost "This is your notice, is it not?"

The dark paladin nodded again and held his hand out towards the female spell caster while looking over the three other candidates...the man in the back with the blue tatoos...the girl with the giant cat...and the arrogant archer.

"If you are interested in making lots and lots of gold and treasures...you have a job. All of you...", his voiced echoed hauntilly in the air, and sounded inhuman. So this is why he hardly spoke...

 

[LatinLady]

The lord of Terrormoon is over ten thousand years old...and served as the mentor of the previous ruler. He has at his disposal all the riches you could imagine...as well as some you cannot...as i mentioned. Any who succeed in reclaiming what he has lost, may ask of him whatever they wish....

His hand extended to seal their agreement and Lorandielle's body was on fire. Just having his hand that close she could feel the desire in him. She was about to take his hand when ... My name is Jay Constant and I think you'd want me to join your quest Lorandielle's hand shot back to her side at the sound of the intrusion, before anyone knew she was standing and had her hand on the hilt of her sword. Standing before them was a human, small and lhanky. Lorandielle had to bite her tongue not to ask him if he was old enough to have manners, but before she could get out a word...I've yet to meet my match in rapier or bow. So what say you? This is your notice, is it not?" Lorandielle relaxed her hand for a moment and regarded Jay Constant. "Well ... Jay Constant, I don't know where you are from but where I am from one does not speak about being the best and only shows it when absolutely nessecary" She made a point of looking him up and down, sizing him up before turning back to Critkill and extending her hand. With a bow of her head she took his hand "Mr Critkill, Lady Nyx, you have my sword at your disposal." The fire coming into her body from Critkill's armored hand was intense to say the least. She could feel the sexual energy his body was emitting and her own body responded. If it wasn't for the fact that her skin was dark, everyone would have been able to see the slight coloration of her skin as a blush spread over her entire body. She held his hand a little longer than she should have perhaps and she could see a spark in Critkill's eyes. Lorandielle wondered what his arrangement with Nyx was and wether they were more than business companions.

 

[Butch]

Jay

"If you are interested in making lots and lots of gold and treasures...you have a job. All of you..."
Jay was almost knocked off his feet when the authorative knight took to words. The voice had a quality that made it sound age old. Meanwhile, the dark skinned lady who didn't like his attitude seemed absolutely enchanted by it. There was something strange about that man, something...unhuman. But the pay was undoubtedly good so why not take a chance? That moment the beautiful woman spoke once again "Mr Critkill, Lady Nyx, you have my sword at your disposal."
At this he said "My bow is yours if you will have it."

 

[Ravensteel]

Taro

It had been a long trek from the Mountain Temple to this place, so many days Taro had lost count actually, but now he had arrived at the city of Deckmar, walking barefoot through the town he was the object of many stares, as most folk were bundled and shielded from the punishing rain, Taro simply wore his dark brown body wrap about his waist his head and chest exposed to the elements, he was seemingly unbothered by the rain, as it ran rivers down his muscled body.


He had come all this way at the suggestion of the Oracle at the Temple, when he had decided to leave to further his training the withered old man had come to him and offered him a fortune, in all he had only said, "Within the dark city of Deckmar, you shall find what you seek within the Slaughtered Lamb." He had not understood at first but as he travelled he'd heard more and more about the city of Deckmar so he made that his destination. He did wish the Seer had been more specific with the vision, that would have made it so he would not have had to endure the unfortunate incident, involving a very angry farmer's lamb that lived on the outskirts of the city, but after a brief explaination and an apology he had discovered that the 'Slaughtered Lamb' was an Inn, one that he now stood before the doors.


But as he contemplated the Oracles words he began to question himself, outloud unfortunately as he walked through the door, "I have come here as he suggested but now that I am here to 'find what I seek', I have no idea what I'm here to find. I'm seeking to further my training so am I here for a fight? Or perhaps a new master to instruct me in new ways?" He spoke to himself loudly as he walked across the room to the bar and decided to be direct to the point, "I have come here at the suggestion of an Oracle to seek the improvement of my skills, I was told it was to be found here, do you know of how?" He gazed at the bartender intently awaiting a response.

 

[Vero]

"It pays very well...the likes of wealth that i assure you one can only imagine."

Well, that wasn't human. She kept silent and waited, watching. There were others interested, it was to be a group effort then. Well and good.

"If you are interested in making lots and lots of gold and treasures...you have a job. All of you...",

Even better. She scanned the others, gauging their abilities and deciding that they could do. She looked across the room to check on the big cat, their eyes meeting for a moment of silent communion before turning back to the dark man.

"My name's Talia, Paragon and I accept. I need to rest tonight, but we can be ready to set out in the morning. I'll be over by the fire when you have gathered enough of a crew to tell us more."

With that she drifted back across the room, kneeling to give Paragon his treat and ruffling his fur. She resumed her stretched out pose - the liquid deception of a cat on the hunt.

 

[Gothic Shujin]

Critikill

The veloptuous wizzardress was even more annoyed by the archer's outburst than Critikill, she snapped a retort to him about his claime to be the best... meanwhile Critikill turned his attention back to Nyx... he wondered if she was beginning to panick... he knew she had concerns when meeting new people as he did. He asked her if she was ok...placing a cold hand on hers....

"Mr Critkill, Lady Nyx, you have my sword at your disposal", his attention diverted yet again by the lovely lady Lorandielle. She took his hand and instantly he felt something...he didnt know if it was just an urge...like desire...or lust....it felt like something more...perhaps they knew each other somehow...whatever it was, he felt calm by it, humbled even. Only Nyx had been able to make him feel more comfortable than in that moment...this bothered him, in a way. He was about to let her go but her grip tightened...looking up through his black and purple helmet he could see desire in her eyes...and it was then that he realized what the feeling was...he had run into only one other soul that bore this same curse....and that poor bastard died a happy man...

"My bow is yours if you will have it," the archer broke the silence with his agreement to take the charge. Letting go of the red haired mage, Critikill extended it again..this time towards the cocky young man with the rapier skills ...to seal the deal...so to speak.

'I feel something...! I feel something!', his sword called out in his mind...

'Yes i feel it too', he answered...patience...

"My name's Talia, Paragon and I accept. I need to rest tonight, but we can be ready to set out in the morning. I'll be over by the fire when you have gathered enough of a crew to tell us more," that made five counting himself, Critikill thought...with six on the way...and a valuable six it was...

"We will not set out in the morn...i travel at night. Take tonight to sleep, and...get 'acquainted' and tommorrow morn to prepare..we leave tommorrow evening. "

 

[Vero]

"We will not set out in the morn...i travel at night. Take tonight to sleep, and...get 'acquainted' and tommorrow morn to prepare..we leave tommorrow evening. "

Well, between that and the budding love affair between the fop and the red elf, this was shaping up to be just a lovely experience.

At least the red elf could handle herself, the fop moved like a fighter, but a noble one Talia didn't think he could take a hit. But then again, when was the last time someone had hit her? She winced at the memory and reached down to run her fingers deeply through Paragon's fur.

"We all earn our stripes, don't we?"

Nobleman makes three, if he can handle the road. Wonder if we're doing horses on this run. She didn't, as a rule, go on horseback unless it was necessary. Took her uncomfortably far away from Paragon and she didn't like the fact that she could leave him behind. Not that she would, but tigers are not distance runners, so a horse adventure would leave him tired a lot.

Okay. Girl in the green makes four, the nightwalker five. He can probably do a hefty amount of damage and handle the road. A few more bodies would be nice. She scanned the inn her eyes lighting on the man in green. He moved well, he gave off the appearance of being a bit too clean for this place, an outlander, but a strong one. Perfect.

She hummed softly, throwing her voice so the sound swirled only around him, barely heard, snips of something sweet, some longing, a need, a desire...

Paragon's ears twitched and he left his bone to stare at her, he laid his head in her lap, his basso purr shaking her body. He loved it when she sang.

 

[Gothic Shujin]

Terror moon adventures...

"I have come here as he suggested but now that I am here to 'find what I seek', I have no idea what I'm here to find. I'm seeking to further my training so am I here for a fight? Or perhaps a new master to instruct me in new ways?"

The strange....obviously disorientated and foriegn man was bald. He wore a simple brown wrap around most of his body and appeared no stranger to a pair of muscle weights.

The inn keeper looked at him...wondering how much he could fleece the rube for...

"I have come here at the suggestion of an Oracle to seek the improvement of my skills, I was told it was to be found here, do you know of how?," the new patron asked with a humble stillness and childlike quality to his voice...

"Oracle...sure...SURE you did big guy...i dunno nothing bout that, lad...but what i do know is that if your looking for someone here...its probably that guy..." The overweight stool maid pointed a shaking hand at the frightening figure towards the end of the room, just next to a board with a bunch of papers on it...The papers made no sense to Taro...speaking of concerns that were not his...but he wondered if this...interesting looking gentlman surrounded by a red haired, dark skinned woman, and a thin handsome man, and quiet raven haired beauty... knew anything about what the Oracle meant.

 

[Gothic Shujin]

Critikill

'The sixth is here critikill...hes here...'

'I know that fool...be silent and be still,' the dark paladin spoke in his head.

A man with the expression of one whom is seeking, entered the Slaughtered Lamb tavern. Dripping wet, but not shivering in the least...even though he was barely armored, Critikill wondered what amazing control he had over his body... perhaps he was a mage as well...but he didnt sense any energy like he did off of Lady Lorandielle.

The bald, muscular individual had no weapons on his person, and this perplexed the dark knight a great deal... 'not a mage...not a swords man...perhaps he is a ranger, and uses some other means of attack'

He watched as the man approached the bar and carried a small conversation with the lazy pub master behind the filthy wooden counter... he was apparently told about the charge..or so Critikill thought...as his attention was directed in this direction by a fat, not so steady hand.

 

[LatinLady]

Lorandielle

We will not set out in the morn...i travel at night. Take tonight to sleep, and...get 'acquainted' and tommorrow morn to prepare..we leave tommorrow evening. Lorandielle smiled inwardly at traveling at night time. This solidified her knowledge of what this man is. Ster'goi. This didn't bother her in the least, she had known a few in her long life of his ilk and not all were evil. Still, she would have to keep him close.

"Lord Critkill, since we have yet some time before we set out, I will momentarily take my leave and make arrangements for the stabling of my mount. Have you and Lady Nyx yet had your meal? Perhaps we can better aquaint ourselves over a pint and some meats and cheese." Without waiting for an answer she turned around and walked out, headed towards her Stallion. She made arrangements with the stables next door for today and tomorrow. She left her horse with a whisper in elvish nai varna coina Úra At this the stallion perked his ears and shook his head. The loose translation for what she had said to the animal was "look alive". Úra is his name, it means Blaze in her native language.

She returned to the inn, passing the woman with the beast and nodding to her. She went to the inn keeper and paid for a room. One facing towards the stables, then ordered a meal for herself and her companions. She knew the best way to set people at ease was with food and drink. She noticed the bald man with the tatoos but didn't pay him any mind until the inn keeper told him to head towards Critkill. She knew what he was, having spent so many years traveling, but wasn't sure why he would be here. Someone of that religious order was a rare find in a place like Deckmar.

She made her way back to Critkill's table and upon passing the monk bowed her head and said, "Hello Brother, tis a far way from your abbey that you travel" She didn't bother to stop for an answer. She went back to Critkill's table, "So, Lord Critkill and Lady Nyx, shall we dine?

 

[Butch]

Jay

After paying his last coins for a room, Jay attempted to follow the dark knight's suggestion and get aquainted with. He started by going over to the fire place and introducing himself to beuatiful young woman sitting.
"Fair lady, my name is Jay Constant and I am your humble servant." The great cat lying on the floor looked up into his eyes and seemed to imply that Jay should go somewhere else. However, Jay felt brave and continued:
"The only thing I wish for in return is thine name." He extended a hand to meet her's.

 

[Gothic Shujin]

Critikill

"Lord Critkill, since we have yet some time before we set out, I will momentarily take my leave and make arrangements for the stabling of my mount. Have you and Lady Nyx yet had your meal? Perhaps we can better aquaint ourselves over a pint and some meats and cheese," she seemed like such a warm woman when she wanted to be...and yet very business like as well...Critikill could tell that she would serve this party well...he didtn quite know what to say...this was the last thing he was expecting, while he said to get to know one another he didnt mean himself included...no one ever cared to spend a second longer in his company than they had to....he seemed to project decay and suffering....

"That would be fine...if you'll give us a moment to discuss this in private," he spoke..indicating towards Nyx.

She left before he was even finished speaking but was sure she heard him, while Lorandielle was gone he noticed the one called Jay approach the pale woman with the giant cat...they appeared to be getting acquainted...good he thought... it would be valuable for them to all care about the well being of one another, in the trials that lie ahead.

Suddenly the door to the Slaughtered Lamb burst open and a gush of wind and rain violated the entryway...two figures sauntered into the pup, stumbling up to the bar they dripped the whole way...leaving a horrible muddy trail...they spoke to the barkeep then took refuge on rise floor where Critikill and Nyx sat...only on the oppasite side...They huddled together...a man, ugly and misshapen...and a woman...rather attractive and young looking...with an outfit that didnt so much provide protection as it gave a person 'eye candy'....before he could sense anything from them...

Lorandielle returned exchanging words with the quiet man in the cloth wrap and was apparently ready for that meal...he did not mention to her that what he fed on was no longer food nor drink...but not to be rude...he turned to Nyx again tossing an arm around her... attempting to finish the discussing on how they would respond to the invitation...

'We could use more hunter, o' my most unholy master of the icky and spooky,' his sword interupted with an insolent tone...

'Later...dont bother me with that now...'

 

[Gothic Shujin]

Terrormoon Adventures...

The door to the "Slaughtered Lamb" Pub nearly flew off its hinges as it opened violently. Backing agaist the wall and beginning to creak closed again...a man and a woman stood in the entryway...soaked from the rain outside. They entered the bar and eyes fell on them..

The girl wore a thin red body suit under a silver studded belt. She had on an odd pair of ornately carved metal gauntlets and shin guards to match, with a single shoulder gaurd fastened under her ample breasts. her hair was up in a pony tail and she appeared to be very young...a thin simple sheath lay on her back, with a kantana inside it...

The man was painful to look at, ugly as sin. He wore a dark misheveled tunic with crude cloth pants tied around him by a piece of hemp. His hair was cut in the manner of a priests...with the top of his head bald...and he was obviously ineabriated.

The two approaced the barkeep...

"Two ales, chubby!," the girl spoke in a voice rank with attitude.

Once served they climbed the short few steps to the back of the pub and turned away from Critikill and Nyx's table...finally sitting under a candle sconce...they began to kiss and fondle one another...

The obviously underage girl, got on her knees and leaned the ugly gentleman's chair back against the wall...She pulled his pants down and shoved his engorged member in her mouth, sucking on it like it had candy in the center...

http://www.best-hentai.com/bh/memberbh/soulcalibur/images/sc-taki-3.jpg​

Critikill's eyes flared.

 

[Ravensteel]

Taro

Taro smiled and thanked the Barkeep then turned to go and address the indicated individual, but as he made his way across the room a voice that had a strange effect on him spoke;

"Hello Brother, tis a far way from your abbey that you travel."

He turned to look at the unexpected speaker surprised that someone would be familiar with his heritage so far away from the temple, however any response he would have made was stopped as he got his first look at who had spoken. It was a woman, it was really the first time he had seen one up close, there had been a few that had visited the temple but it had been forbidden that anyone other than the Masters to speak with them. And he had seen a few in passing on his travels but he had never seen one the like of her. As she passed him without another word he briefly took a moment to gaze around the room, it seemed that this place was accustomed to seeing women of beauty there were numerous here, one other sitting beside the man he had intended to speak with, another sitting with somesort of wildcat resting it's head in her lap, and finally the one whom had spoken to him, all of them seemed to put his Masters words of women's beauty to shame. He also remembered a few words of warning that his Master had given him,

"Respect women, the are not to be trivialized, but do not let your guard down around them either, some are as kind and helpful as a child, others more dangerous than a snake."

As he stood in his thoughts the door burst open once more, and a pair walked in an older misshapen man and a girl, but she seemed of a slightly younger stature than the others present. They went to the bar and the girl rather rudely demanded drinks then they went to a table a short distance from those he had hoped to speak to. Decideing to pay them no further mind he walked up to the man in dark armor brought his hands together knuckle to knuckle in closed fists bowed and spoke.

"Sir, I have traveled far and and searched a long time seeking something, I was told it was to be found here, and I am hoping it is with you. Your notice...." He pointed to the parchment on the board, "Says that you are in need of assistance in retrieveing something, I would gladly lend it if you would have me along."

As he raised his head he finally noticed that the man had been staring intently and it seemed quite displeased, at the couple that had just recently come in. The girl was between the man's legs doing something to his manhood with her mouth. "That's a strange custom, is that some form of drinking game in these parts." He was asking himself but he once again spoke aloud.