• Closed • Clinging To The World

Kian Get in here

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• Closed • Clinging To The World

Postby Mercedes » Sun Apr 15, 2018 7:55 pm

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50th Ashan 718

The trial had still been young, but when he rose from his state of deep sleep and left home Mercedes heard something unusual. “Where Is she!? The child is missing! We have no clue where she is!” The sorcerer cocked an eyebrow, as the man charged down the street. There were multiple people who lived in the area that heard the panicked man scream and run. Black clad in his leather attire, Mercy stepped forth only to follow the man that moved too swiftly to be tracked. Rather than give chase; The sorcerer asked one of the bystanders as opposed to wasting the excess energy.

“Someone please explain to me what the fuck I just watched happen? Why did that poor man run away screaming like a little shit? Does anyone have an explanation or do I have to do further investigation myself? The immortals themselves know that the elements damn sure will not do anything to assist you all!” The sorcerer spoke aloud without so much as a hint of shame or fear in his voice. He certainly was not above killing a few men that kidnapped children. More often than not people demonized him, and viewed him as an antagonist. When in reality protagonists were typically far more tyrannical and evil than antagonists.

An “evil” man may perform an action because he wants to change the dynamic of how something works. Whereas a “good” man has a tendency to do nothing beyond following the orders barked by a higher ranking official. The evil, and “Bad people” were seen as horrid because they went against the opinion of the vast majority. Therefore everyone, criminals, murderers, rapists, and thieves alike were justified to perform their actions in some form or another. However, in the case of a child being kidnapped there were no feasible justifications.

“Ye' I can tell ya' what happened. Some child with rich parents got fuckin' snatched up by some gnarly bastards this e're mornin'. You'v got'ta fin'd em' 'efore the lass dies yeah? Only 'easn someon'd take a kid is for th' ransom they could get by kidnappin em'.” Spoke the bystander equipped with a flour-ridden robe in a tall hat which indicated he was a local cook of some sort. Finally, Mercedes got the answer he wanted along with an explanation. From what he could understand of the ill-spoken common the child had been rich. Perhaps, it belonged to a Merchants guild member and they needed a quick way to make nel.

However, based on a previous experience with “The Kennels”; The Merchants Guild had quite a few mercenaries at their disposal. They were the richest of the rich in scalvoris; as far as Mercedes knew. He needed to find that child, and quickly; so that he could perhaps collect the ransom himself. If he had the opportunity to be a “hero”, and steal from the kidnapper himself that would be golden. Yet, something in the back of his mind continuously told him to make an exit. Had his subconscious been correct, or had his decision to investigate been a mistake? Mercedes set out on foot to find out for himself.

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Clinging To The World

Postby Alistair » Mon Apr 16, 2018 8:14 pm

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Kieran Riley
"Ye fuckin' foreigners," the soldier coughed, blood escaping between his lips. He was an Element, part of the Air, and his alert Sohr Khal protectively scoured the area from top to bottom, both from the grass and from above. They were on a field, flat and damp, as rain had come not too long ago. Kian sat over him, attempting as he could to bandage his wound... the remnants of a spear being plunged through his chest, and drawn out. The likelihood of survival was low, but if there were any doctor he'd be likely to see to achieve an impossibly difficult treatment, Kian was certainly high on the list.

He had a lot of experience in medicine, and had treated some of the most grievous wounds any doctors could ever see. He'd served as a medic for the Jegers, after all, and in that time had learned to treat virtually anything the body didn't outright die from. This was feasible. He knew it was.

"Ye fuckin' foreigners come here, an' ye fail," he coughed once more, a smaller spatter of blood pushing through onto the corners of his lips, sliding down his face. "Cause ye foreigners are fools, an' ye don't know how to win in a new land," he continued to rant, the mage proving unsuccessful in getting him to stop speaking. "An' so ye rape, kill, steal... maggots, the whole lotta youse," he demeaned Kian as he healed him, attempting to spit some of the blood at his face... though with his functions failing, so too did the motion of physically gathering the liquid within his mouth and throat.

Kian shrugged; he'd heard a lot worse from a lot worse of people, even while saving their lives. This meant nothing to him, and his expression was dim and hollow. Whatever this was, it didn't matter to him.

"That's interesting," he said sarcastically, reaching into his pouch to gather some Clam Leaf Tonic. He had some in a small bottle, one that he would force down the soldier's throat. He didn't quite have the ability to resist it, so the mage would only quickly mutter, "open wide," before pouring it down his throat. The man complied, luckily, eager enough to not die.

"Continue, Ser. Us fucking foreigners," he goaded him on, attempting to fill the silence with something, even if it was incessant complaining.

"Ye fuckin' for-ners... always takin' our women and our jobs, ya pieces of pipe," he spat, this time actually succeeding, the glob of blood landing at the point of Kian's chin.

"I thought we were failing and raping due to our failures. But we're also taking your women and your jobs? Seems like a rather contradictory tale if you ask me," he stated, half ready to laugh. The man was clearly just trying to upset him - biting the hand that fed him, and enjoying it.

"Ye fuckin' foreigners are witty cunts. That must be why yer so good at thievin'," he explained, and Kian nodded as if the wounded soldier's sermon was educational. He attempted to coagulate the blood by means of physical therapy, placing light pressure on the wound and imitating the effect of skin covering the flesh. With the clam leaf tonic, there would be considerably less pain, and so the mage could begin more complex procedures. This was an uphill battle, but there was hope. The soldier wasn't as far into death as he thought.
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Clinging To The World

Postby Mercedes » Mon Apr 16, 2018 9:11 pm

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The Sorcerer approached a somewhat evenly distributed crowd, and noticed something peculiar. There had been a multitude of men women and children alike. However when Mercedes listened in on a conversation; there were select few words heard. “Fuck the foreigners,” The Defier paid close attention to every word that escaped the lips of that injured man. Obviously he was important, and a massive creature accompanied him. The name of such a winged beast was unknown to Mercedes, as he never laid eyes on whatever that was. Had he been one of the elements rumored to have an affinity for beasts that flew?

Mercedes had been far from the best observer, but when he saw an Element he knew one. The multicolored capes, and pins they wore. Villains always carried the appearance of heroes, and never revealed their true intentions. This case had been no different, and although the man waltzed toward another only to collapse. He was still evil, and more likely than not what he suffered was a wound of battle. Another casualty that went unfinished, and every breath he took had been offensive to the sorcerer. A look of disgust overtook Mercedes's visage, and he approached the creature, and the two men black clad in his leather armor.

A sigh exited his lips, and then he took a several more breaths in between each step. The blood in his veins boiled as he realized just what he witnessed as the distance closed. The man who took position above the injured element provided medical care. Had he known the man he made an attempt to save was evil? He could not have known, for if he did the Element would have been left for dead the moment he approached injured.

Yet, the speech of the element had been indicative of just that. “You foreigners-- Cunts, Good at Thieven,” Had been all that the sorcerer needed to hear. Foreigners were no different than the people of Scalvoris. They brought imports for the cities, and proved themselves to be worthy partners in trade. There were “foreigners” that owned and operated businesses; foreigners that could destroy the economy with nothing more than a single word. The sound of Mercedes's heavy leather boots echoed as they struck the stone beneath his heels.

No more, I will hear none of this, he is evil. The man treating him is evil, and both of them should be killed. What right does he have to save a murderer? A man that left behind innocent men, and women should be slain. When The Sorcerer finally reached a distance of approximately fifty paces; he announced his presence.

“Stop! Do not heal that fucking criminal! You are saving the life of a man who was responsible, and directly involved in the death of several innocent men and women! I will not tolerate this, you must be one of the Elements! You will burn and die right along with that scum!” Mercedes announced himself loudly, and without hesitation he channeled a moderate amount of ether.

Dancing had not been a skill Mercedes took part in often, but he needed to find some sort of motion to make his defiance unique. He began with a simple manifestation, and brought to life a bonfire sized flame; only to coax it into a large torrent of fire. The flame spun, and took the shape of a large feline only to charge at the pair. A split-trill later the fire dispersed, and spread out as to sweep the very ground the element lay upon. The Strange winged beast would be the first to be affected by the attack if it landed.

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Clinging To The World

Postby Alistair » Tue Apr 17, 2018 6:47 pm

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Kieran Riley
Midway through healing the man, another individual began to loom distantly. Kian noticed him watching early on, and decided to remain aware of his presence depending on his motives. He could not ascertain those motives from the distance they were at, but based on the fact that he was observantly looming, he was clearly interested in what was going on. He was not dressed remotely like the man being treated, and so they were not very likely to be comrades in arms. With this in mind, Kian kept aware of the possibility that he was an enemy, and not long after he began stepping forward, the mage realized that this determination was true.

He demanded that the man no longer be healed, and stated that he was involved in the murder of innocents. Kian merely nodded at the possibility, considering how foul-tongued and disrespectful the soldier was. He was clearly... an arse, so perhaps murder wasn't out of the realm of possibility. But the mage had already begun treating him, and if anything, he realized that he could stand to benefit from uncovering the truth. Even if he was some renegade of the state, he could be offered for nels and prestige. A political man like Alistair always weighed on cost and benefit.

But still, even before he could make a prudent decision on whether or not to continue treating him, the fiery man across the field prepared to fight and kill. He... was a mage. "Oh dear," Kian stated with a mischievous expression, as Mercedes began to gather fire. He was gathering a lot, and shaping it, and launching it. Partway through doing so, it even shifted to an alternate form, beginning to sweep across the field. Kian had to determine whether or not he would protect the soldier at this point. He could create a thin, rectangular portal and suck in the fire, using pulling to throw it into the air and suffocate its source of oxygen.

However, that would cost significantly more ether.

Deciding ultimately that this deed was even more faux heroic if he saved the soldier, he decided to do so. A thin strip of distorted space appeared near the base of the grass, and drew in the fire before it arrived at the wingspan of the Sohr Khal. Pulling it inward, a smaller portal appeared three dozen meters in the air, located off the mark from Alistair, the soldier and the Sohr Khal. Then, in a mere flash, Alistair disappeared as the smoke and flames were drawn in by a twisting nether.

Hoping this would distract the other mage, Alistair rapidly pulled out his spear as he appeared behind him, already falling into his Gravelmonger stance with his body pivoting and anchoring near the ground. With a sweep, he would attempt to powerfully bash the length of Shadowsong against the other mage's calves, knocking him painfully onto the ground as the force would surely immobilize his legs.

Alistair was fast and precise, but he didn't want to kill. He wanted to show this man the consequences for rash action, particularly against the unknown.
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Clinging To The World

Postby Mercedes » Sat Apr 21, 2018 3:00 pm

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The sorcerer looked on as the thin sheet of flame spread, and made its way toward the two men, and beast. However, what seemed to be an instantaneous response came from the one who he thought had been a mere healer. Mercedes could not have been more wrong; as the man reacted with far more power than a man capable of healing should have. Firstly the flame had been devoured long before it reached the intended targets. The distraction provided had been more than enough, and forced Mercedes to take several trills to understand what took place. That reaction had been no mundane task, but the work of a magic that the sorcerer was familiar with. That was rupturing; a magic practiced by a duelist he knew well. Sephira, and this mage had to be similar in some fashion or another as the portal opened and swallowed up the flame.

Mistake had been made, and soon he would pay for his lack of calculation. Mercedes should have been more meticulous and picked his moment. His recklessness certainly would bring him death some trial. Perhaps this would be the trial where he would get decapitated by a healer. There were people far more powerful than him in idalos. However, never before would he have expected a medical practitioner to be that strong. If this man had been a rupturer too that would mean he could more than easily destroy Mercedes in combat.

If the assumption had been correct; rupturers more often than not were reliant on their ability to take opponents on in mundane combat. They needed secondary skills; as one did nothing but move them or other objects from one place to another. In a mere-split trill while Mercedes rested still in attempt to think about a solution to the problem; the healer made his move. In an instant he appeared behind The sorcerer, and Mercedes did not bother to run nor hide. The battle ended in but a single fell swoop as the man brought down his might upon his calves. The pain surged through his body all at once, and not only had the strike been successful; it immobilized him. The sorcerer fell to the ground on the palms of his hands and knees. Death was acceptable, especially when the opponent had simply been far more capable than he was. The element remained alive, and continued to struggle as he drew breath. Mercedes had not successfully killed him off, and the man before him simply thwarted his equilibrium with force.

As The sorcerer himself struggled to speak as a result of the immense pain; he locked eyes with the man.

“What good is it to save him... They killed so many innocent people and failed to show up.. The explosions.. the cult.. they were all members of the elements.. this was their fault... You are going to kill me.. in exchange for saving a killer... Tell me your name.. I want to know the name of the man who will take my life.” Mercedes spoke aloud.

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Clinging To The World

Postby Alistair » Sun Jun 10, 2018 9:12 pm

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Kieran Riley
The Defier fell, no longer able to resist the strength of the other magister, nor capable of withstanding the severity of his spear's sweep... the full weight of Terrendyte bashing his legs, beating his muscles and sending intense shock and pain through his bones and nerves. It took little to defeat him, a flash into a singular strike. Fortunately, Alistair did not intend to kill him . . . or death would have surely come.

The mage explained his reasoning. This man was an Element, and the Elements had failed him. He was an ideological warrior, a rebel against the military establishment of Scalvoris. They had dabbled into . . . cults? Explosions? He couldn't understand it all, nor did he know the context, but . . . what he knew was that Mercedes - or to him, the unnamed Defier - was furious with them, and willing to fight one of his own kind for healing one of theirs.

You are going to kill me... in exchange for saving a killer.

His ideology was severe. The man viewed all of them as killers, every last one. To go that far was... dangerous; tumultuous. The mage could only shake his head, lowering his eyes onto the vision of the fallen man, though he kept his view trained to witness any sudden movements, reprisals, or betrayals. Alistair raised his spear, the bottom head - equally as sharp as the top, though thinner - pointed at Mercedes, seemingly prepared to plunge through his brow, lifted gently above the center of his eyes. His death would be instantaneous.

"Alistair Venora," he whispered. For this moment, he tossed aside the falsehood of Kieran Riley . . . a name that he had never truly bore.

"I am the one who dreams of a world free for all men. These foreign wars, and foreign rebellions . . . mean little to me. Your subjective viewpoint in opposition to the Elements means naught. I saw a life in despair, so I turned to save that life. Only justice can rightfully end a life. What you see, in his writhing, and your intent to kill . . . may be justice in your eyes. But I do not know this man, nor what he's done... and I have taken on the role of his guardian, at least for now. I do not extend to you the right to end his life." He stated, sternly, with a repudiating stare faced towards the fallen mage.

But then, he pulled his spear back, and stepped several paces away from him, leaving him to lay upon the grassy knoll. "Nor do I have the right to end yours. I know little of you, and I understand the usage of violence in the name of your ideology. I kill men who kill my own - mages. The Mantis, the Hiladrathi, they are all anathema to me, regardless of the life they've lead or the hearts they've reached. So I . . . do not rebuke you, nor will I slay you. I only ask that you leave this veteran soul alone. I wish to mend him."

And so, he continued, stepping towards the fallen warrior with a quiet, earnest gaze extending from his eyes. Alistair stepped towards him and loomed over his fallen frame, stepping above and over the withered, burnt grass and the charred fields. He looked upon his closed eyes, and the blood that had begun to gorge from his body. It seemed that Mercedes had gotten what he wanted - he had succumbed to his wounds, Alistair unable to treat him as he fought off their predator.

The man was dead.

Staring at him, solemnly, the mage pressed his hand to his own heart and shut his eyes closed in respect. Then, with a blink, he left the tragic scene.
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Clinging To The World

Postby Doran Cooney » Fri Jun 15, 2018 9:32 pm

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Merces "Mercy"
Knowledges
Defiance: Dancing With Fire
Defiance: Elements can take various shapes
Defiance: Combating a Rupturer
Defiance: Zametat Flame
Tactics: Distracting an opponent
Rhetoric: Brutal honesty
Detection: Hearing an opponent from the rear
Tactics: Miscalculations can be deadly

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: 5 - mage fight!

Points 15

Doctor Alistair var Radomir, once Lord Venora of Oxentide, The Shrike, The Sunless, The Dreamer, Deoch Daire, Archmage, and Lord Proctor
Knowledges
Rupturing: Blinking into a blind-spot
Polearms: Spear - A blink into a leg sweep
Medicine: Treating a lethal battlefield injury
Medicine: Time sensitive treatments
Medicine: Failing your patient due to distractions
Discipline: Acting on your ethics, regardless of anyone else

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: 5 - mage fight!

Points 15
---
Edit: Mercy, please remove 15 experience points from your Defiance pool. I made the mistake of awarding experience when I shouldn't have! "Merces used three Defiance techniques. One to manifest, then to coax, then to shape and send it out at Alistair. While fairly impressive, it is not mastery level abilities but ones one foments in expert. The magic unleashed, the scale, and the techniques should not be used to advance Merces magic." Thank you!

That was a weird thread. I wasn't really sure where they were or why they were doing what they were doing, but the fight was neat. Alistair poppin' out like, "Bye" was soooo weird. haha

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