May Wysar Give Us Strength (Daeva)

Alderache ends up in a dangerous situation

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Known as the Celestial Seat, Nyka is a religious city in Northern Sylira. Ruled by four demigods and traversed by a large crevice, the monk-city is both mystical and dangerous. [Lore]

May Wysar Give Us Strength (Daeva)

Postby Alderache on February 1st, 2012, 7:28 pm

Timestamp: Winter 50, 511 AV
Time: Just before dawn
Location: The Warfields
Who: Daeva Timandre
Note: Received permission from Liar to use the... Interesting thing that occurs.

Alseroth had awoken them in the early hours of the morning, just before Syna would rise. Ever since the beating he'd received when he'd arrived in the city, he'd wanted to exact some vengeance. He didn't care on who, but he'd been fuming about it every day since then. He'd heard that Monks could often be found alone in the Warfields. He didn't want to run into another group situation again. He quickly dressed, put his Lakan in his belt, and set out of the city. It was late enough that curfew was just ending, but Syna was barely kissing the sky. He made his way out of the city gates and toward the Warfields.

He'd never been in them before, but he'd heard they were quite dangerous, but also that it was bad form to kill in there. He could use that to his advantage if he found a monk alone in there. His opponent wouldn't fight to kill, but he would.

"DON'T DO THIS ALSEROTH!"


"Shut up Alderache and enjoy the ride, I know you need to beat out your frustrations as well."

He arrived at the entrance to this maze. He stretched his arms upward, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He fought his brother back into a tiny corner of their shared mind and prepared to get what was owed to him. As he passed the threshold, a foul odor invaded his senses. He saw a strange line of liquid in the dirt across the entrance, and assumed it to be giving off the smell. But it wasn't of any importance, so he ignored it and made his way inward. He drew Shivara, said a curse to the patrons of the monks, and began to wander the confusing corridors. At first he tried to be stealthy so as to better sneak up on an opponent, but he abandoned that hope after not having found anything more than a single bird.

It didn't help that he was hopefully lost either. This was not the satisfaction he'd been hoping to achieve. He rounded a corner and found a battle worn tree.

"That's what happens when you follow revenge."

"Shut up you Venhrehk! This is not the business of one as weak as you!"

"You're the one that lost that fight, not me."

Alseroth didn't argue any more, and Alderache sat in his little corner of his mind smugly.

"Oi, keep it down ya nutjob, I have a splitting headache."


Sitting, back against the tree, was a monk that looked to be recovering from a long night of drinking. And on his robes was an insignia, the same as those that had welcomed them into the city with fists. He chuckled, thinking that this was the perfect scenario. He readied his Lakan, keeping it out of sight of him. He waited for the monk to stir, while he examined the man. But perhaps he should've been observing the ground he stood on. Through the dust, a single wide trail curved along, as if something had been dragged.
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Alderache
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Joined roleplay: January 11th, 2012, 2:14 pm
Race: Akalak
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