Life Without Death

[Lo'Campo'

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A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

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Life Without Death

Postby A'va on September 6th, 2016, 8:41 pm

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32nd Fall, 516AV

With each passing day, Oona’s frustration with the barbarians of Sunberth grew. They were a messy, angry people with absolutely no structure or military training. People were too quick to draw swords, to draw blood even, with no apparent cause. It angered the Myrian, who had proudly served three gruelling years to the Myri’s own military. The training had been meticulous, sharpening not only Oona’s combat skills but her mind too. She had learned to strategize, to consider one’s aim (usually to kill as many the Dhani as possible) when swinging a weapon or killing a foe.

But the people of Sunberth seemed to lack all thinking or training. Their violent stupidity explained why their city was stinking and filthy, not the prize of the jungle like Taloba was. She longed to see her home again, but something anchored Oona to Sunberth. She felt that she couldn’t leave this city without achieving… something, though as yet the young woman had no clue what she yearned to do. It was a hopeless city, and one she didn’t understand both linguistically or morally.

With her Kris dagger hanging by her side, Oona ventured out of the Drunken Fish – another stinking, volatile place – and into the city streets. Though the night was early, Oona felt immediately more comfortable in the waning light of Syna. Leth would soon be out, hanging over the Myrian with the comforting gaze of an old friend. The clear skies – free of jungle canopy – still seemed too open to Oona, but she was slowly getting used to it.

The city itself, however, would take significantly more time.

She moved carefully, her steps placed gently and quietly out of habit rather than necessity. Even in the city proper, Oona’s military and hunting training was impossible for her to shake off. A woman did not just blunder through the jungle at night. She stalked, like a cat, her knees supple and ready to burst into a run if needed. It was this very natural steadiness in the dark that had earned Oona’s clan their name – the Patient Shadows. They lurked, they waited.

And then they pounced.

Oona’s fingertips twitched as she trailed through the city, her shoulders back and head held high. She was the epitome of a proud Myrian female – save for her stinking and barbarian surroundings.

It was only when she found herself on the messy border of the city that Oona finally relaxed, slipping her right hand off of the hilt of her Kris and allowing the tiniest of smiles.

Time to hunt.
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A'va
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Life Without Death

Postby Lo'campo on September 7th, 2016, 1:16 am

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"Normal Text"
Mental text
Lo'campo
Oumoc
Losasa
Oumren


Night had finally fallen upon the city as it began to move into the motions that led to slumber, unaware that the blue monster that once roamed the streets during the night had returned to his stomping grounds to reclaim what was his. He'd shaken Ren, the more destructive of his two daughters who'd also been following him off his trail, leaving him to his work.

Work. Is that what he called it now? Not that he'd mind doing what he enjoyed and getting paid to do it, but the assassin life was not for him. He was more of an upfront and personal kinda guy. He liked to connect with his victims, learn a bit about them before he ultimately ended thier lives. The thought made him pause for a moment, before he smiled at the mental image and continued about his way.

As usual he didn't know where he was going nor who he would be looking for. Slipping his hood upon his head, he merged with the shadows and became one with the darkness. The blackness hugged him, carressed his soul and enhanced his senses in a way that he couldn't explain. It was like he could see and hear just about anything from the shadows better than he normally would in the light. It was fact, he belonged to the darkness.

He moved fluidly, naturally. Like a king in his throne room and before he realized it, he'd ventured out beyond the city limits. His signature smirk crept across his face as he could hear the screams of pain from his victims that now rested forever in the forest soil. What were the chances that he'd find some poor unlucky saps out in the woods? Suddenly craving the rush of a chase, he tightned his robes before stepping out into the hunting grounds, where predator and prey danced amongst the brush.
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-Loxudeianis Basunreph Campo


Oumoc Basunreph Campo
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Lo'campo
The Sunset Quarter monster
 
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Life Without Death

Postby A'va on September 7th, 2016, 7:16 am

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Unlike the jungle, where the seasons themselves did not vary so much in temperature or in the foliage, the trees in Sunberth had started to drop their leaves. This was an unfamiliar problem to Oona; the crunching of dead leaves served as yet another reason why Sunberth disappointed and infuriated her. The city couldn’t even season properly!

She placed her steps delicately, carefully, balanced on her toes instead of the flat of her feet. A light breeze came and ruffled the leaves around her, crinkling them like paper. Oona inhaled and froze, one hand extended outwards to use a tree for balance and the other reaching up to the hilt of her dagger. After several ticks, the Myrian gave a small nod and continued on her quiet, soft way further into the woods.

The emptying trees were making patches of moonlight spill onto the ground, splashes of pale milkiness that Oona avoided at all costs. She kept close to the trees, to the shadows that proffered her the cover she needed.

It was only her second time hunting out in Sunberth, and yet again the city paled in comparison to her rich home. The Falyndar jungle provided prey of huge variety; deer, dog, hogs, monkeys and birds. Sunberth, by comparison, was a city filled with huge rats that Oona knew not to eat just from their odour. And whilst the critters of the city proper itself were inedible, the woods outside Sunberth provided little better. On her last hunt two days ago, Oona had caught only a measly rabbit that, she soon realised after inspecting her kill, was suffering from some urban disease anyway.

Tonight she hoped to achieve more by stepping further away from the city, but she was pessimistic. Sunberth was not home, and she needed to recognise and appreciate the many, many ways in which the barbarian city fell short to what she was familiar with. There was no point in hoping that she’d come across anything close to a bounty as wealthy as she would find in Taloba, but there was no harm in trying.

Plus, the cooking in Sunberth was as terrible as everything else. The meat was overcooked, boiled for an eternity in some dark, fragrant liquid before being sloshed in front of Oona. It was like the cooks didn’t want her to know what she was eating – and even to a woman who had previously feasted on human flesh, this was as unappealing a meal as one could find.

No, tonight Oona fancied cooking herself a Myrian-esque meal; meat, cooked rare with whatever spices or herbs she could find. The host of the Drunken Fish had shown her rosemary – a prickly herb that smelt heady and floral. Perhaps she could find rosemary somewhere in the woods?

She came to an eventual halt after half a bell or so of prowling. The leaves around her feet were not as thick here, not like the carpet of dead leaves she had been stalking atop earlier. Oona stooped down, her fingers tracing the tell-tale circular gaps in the dead foliage. Something had walked through here, and judging by the integrity of the footsteps, whatever it was hadn’t passed too long ago. In the waning light, it was hard for Oona to recognise the paw prints, but she estimated a small dog, or a fox of some description. Whatever it was, it had headed eastwards.

Oona didn’t immediately move. Instead, she contemplated what the best plan would be. She could track down this animal, whatever it was, and hope she could get close enough to kill it. Or – and this was favoured plan so far – she could set bait and wait for the prey to come to her. She turned to her pack, reaching within it to retrieve a bloody package wrapped in cotton. It was the remains of her previous kill, the diseased rabbit. Though Oona hadn’t eaten it herself, she had butchered off a leg off the rabbit with the intention of using it for this very reason on her next hunt.

Next, to find a suitable location for the bait. She looked at the trees around her, considering her best options. She could simply drop the package amongst the leaves? No; the leaves might conceal her bait and thus waste her time. Instead, the Myrian opted for pinning the parcel onto a tree. She selected the one in front of her and began to pick away at the hardest top layer of the tree bark with her kris dagger. Once the softer underside of the tree flesh had been revealed, she withdrew an arrow from her quiver and stabbed the arrowhead through the cloth and into the tree. She slowly removed her hands from underneath her parcel, and Oona was pleased to see that it hung there, securely held in place by the arrow approximately two feet off the ground.

Next she needed to conceal herself, and old habits had the Myrian seeking a tree in which to hide. She selected one not too far from the oak on which she had hung her package. There was a branch ten or so feet up from the ground that promised a decent place to hide without being too high up.

She started to climb; one foot placed against the trunk of the tree, the other still on the ground and bent, ready to give herself a boost upwards. Her hands reached up, clutching onto the nooks and knobs of the tree bark that she could use as leverage and grips. With a grunt, Oona pushed herself upwards, straining to reach and balance herself against the tree. Her toes were splayed, ten tiny grips themselves as she steadily rose higher and higher to the tree. By the time she reached her chosen hiding place, the Myrian was sweating and breathing heavily.

Finally, she positioned herself on the branch, lying flat down on her stomach with her bag and quiver concealed amongst the remaining leaves. The tree she had chosen stood in the shadows, not lit by the moon itself but giving Oona a good view of the world below and around her.

And then the Myrian waited.
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A'va
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Life Without Death

Postby Lo'campo on September 10th, 2016, 2:49 am

Image
"Normal Text"
Mental text
Lo'campo
Oumoc
Losasa
Oumren


He'd been walking for some time now with no luck. It seemed that not a soul, living at least was in the forest. "Slow night?" Lo'campo spoke mentally as he watched Oumoc hunt in the night. The darker personality brushed the comment off. He was sure that he'd find someone out in these damned woods. Even if he had to kill an animal, he swore he'd return home with blood on his hands.

Not much time had passed before the annoyed Akalak grew bored of searching and took to attacking tree trunks and what ever brush that had not yet been claimed by the Fall season. "Enjoying yourself?'

"Why I actually am, thanks for asking." Oumoc shot back out loud and sarcastically.

Oh my, look at the terrifying and murderous Oumoc reduced to killing leaves by pure boredom" Lo'campo taunted. Taunts really weren't his thing, but it pleasured him to annoy his darker brother as he did when he was in control of the body. Oumoc mimicked the mental Akalak's words in a higher pitched voice as he continued to slash away at nature.

"You know what sometimes I forget that I'm older than you. I wonder how terrified your victims would be if they knew your were 15 years old"

"SHUT UP!" Oumoc let out as he flung a lakan into one direction deeper into the brush. It was hard for a person to tick Oumoc off, mainly because he killed them before they had the chance to get that far. Lo'campo on the other hand had and advantage that everyone else didn't. Seeing that they were two souls trapped in the same body, Oumoc didn't have a choice but to listen to the mental insults that pushed his buttons. His actual age being one of them.

It was true, Lo'campo the lighter personality was born first and had lived a good 30 years before Oumoc his darker brother came into the world. Though Oumoc has knowledge of the world around him and interacts with it as an adult, the mental mind set of the soul himself is actually 15 years old. A fact that makes the persona throw a tantrum when forced to cope with it.

"Now look at what you went and done."

"Calm yourself, it isn't like it's the important one, it's fathers anyways." Oumoc shot low and hard and his lighter brother. He knew that Lo'campo took great pride in wielding their father's lakan. Something about bringing honor to their name shyke. Oumoc on the other hand didn't care for it. He wanted Lo'campo to accept the fact that they were created to murder.

Moving through a wall of bushes, he came out into a small opening where the lakan shimmered in the moonlight. Picking the dagger from the floor and inspecting it for damages, another shimmer caught his eye. A rabbits leg, looked to be cut and pinned to a tree by an arrow. Bait? Was there a hunter in the forest? Or did the poor rodent chew it's own leg off to escape? Either way it was his rabbit foot now. Maybe he could sell it for some coin or trade one of the homeless for it. The bastards were always begging for something. He began to inspect the arrow and piece of meet. "Hey, you think we can sell this here arrow thing too?"


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-Loxudeianis Basunreph Campo


Oumoc Basunreph Campo
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Lo'campo
The Sunset Quarter monster
 
Posts: 241
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