Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Cervantez
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Posts: 454
Joined: Tue Jul 03, 2018 8:59 am
Race: Lotharro
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Renown: 195
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Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Saun 21st, Arc 718, Heavy Rain



☠ Mood: Calm, At ease
☠ Current Thought: Let's dig up a body
☠ Current Theme: Valley of the Shadow of Death


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The eyes of the necromancer beamed from the shadows from hood he was wearing. He had found a grave of a former necromancer, one he had found out about from visiting the local bars around the city. He learned from his own form of investigation, asking blunt questions to get his info, that the man was buried with some tomes and a pendant he used for necromancy. Cerv wanted that book along with the artifact. It was something he would love to get his hands on, them both being assets to his own craft. It wasnt hard to find the grave, and with his large hound, it would be fairly to dig up the body. In the cover of the night, and the pouring of the rain was all he needed to go to grave-robbing. He wasnt all to worried about being caught, he was large and intimidating, and had a great-sword, so anyone would be foolish to challenge him. Njama was hard at work digging up the grave, the ground soft and muddy as the rain soaked them. He was a little annoyed at how long it was taking to dig up the grave, the ground slopping back into the hole, and his hound getting filthier and filthier. "This is becoming more work than its it fucking worth" He said as he watched his pet dig his little heart out. It was funny and a little irritating as the hound would hit his master with some mud in his excitement.

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Last edited by Cervantez on Thu Sep 06, 2018 10:22 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 293
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William Dovecraft
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Re: Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Will had been avoiding a certain part of life and death for a time. Graveyards. Part of him wanted to see life continue on forever, but he’d seen his fair share of dead bodies in Yaralon. The starved, or the butchered in combat being ferried away without so much as a sheet over their lifeless, insect-ridden eyes staring off into space.

He’d tried, for two nights. He stood out by the fence, trying to think about walking out upon that creepy hill set aside for the dead of Yaralon. But he couldn’t move his feet. Yaal’tiesh pleaded for him not to go, but he didn’t listen, or part of him did. At least at first. Totrial, he’d worked up the courage to break that spell, peering through the pouring rain and taking just one step through the gate.

That one step was all he needed. He was on his way, trekking up step after step, boots sloshing in the watery alcoves and mud underfoot until he achieved the summit and gazed down over the rolling grave stones in the deep dark. A chill ran over him, his breath visible in what little light he could see. Little else. It’s pitch black out here. His feet slid over the dirt, finding a dip, taking that step. Despite being a spirit, Yaal’tiesh was having similar regrets.

Maybe this was a mistake. He had no armor on, just that steel-and-wood shield engraved with prayers to a smattering of Gods. Ashan, Cassion, and Famula among them. His shirt was dirty and stained brown, blonde hair a dark mop of wet, a smear upon his head in the low light. Down he went, with his mind reaching out into the abyss as the air whipped, and the rains thundered with their millions of droplets in unison.

A good way down the hill, that was when he saw a figure looming in the dark, something small and stocky moving next to it. “H-hello?” he called, reaching over his shoulder to grip the straps of his shield, just in case. He could hear the digging now, and his brow darkened. Just barely, he could see that dog digging at the foot of a headstone. “What are you doing? You’re defiling a grave!” he yelled. “Get away from there!”

But the man was tall, and that dog looked massive. He kept his distance. This was a dishonor of the highest order, an utter lack of respect for the dead. That was enough for him to pull his shield fully from his back, readying it in front of him, hammer moments to follow. “Don’t make me duel you! I-I’m a skilled fighter!” he said, voice quivering to show that he was indeed not a skilled fighter, but a boy just barely a man.

word count: 487
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Cervantez
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Joined: Tue Jul 03, 2018 8:59 am
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Renown: 195
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Re: Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Saun 21st, Arc 718, Heavy Rain



☠ Mood: Calm, At ease
☠ Current Thought: Let's dig up a body
☠ Current Theme: Valley of the Shadow of Death


☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠

The rain was heavy and visibility was piss pour, not to mention the rain drowned out most sounds, besides Njama's digging. The hound had finally made some headway, getting a little deeper down into the grave. He was patient as he knew with the current weather was not working in his favor, but his patience was only so much. He was eager to just get down in the dirt with him, but saw that his fury buddy was more suited for the task, and it made him happy to play in the mud, and who was Cerv to be a monster and ruin the hounds fun. After a break of endless digging, Njama was there, Cerv could see the coffin of the mage, which he then dug into the hole to. Using his greatsword as a shovel to help toss the muddy substance from his prey. Amidst his excitement and digging, he heard something, he heard a voice. At first he though he was hearing things, and then it got clearer, even the rain. Looking up, he saw a figure in the distance. He heard the man say he wasnt afraid to duel him and he was a good fighter. If anything Cerv was annoyed cause someone was trying to interfere with his necromancy research. Whoever this fool was, Cerv would spare no mercy and eliminate this annoyance. Greatsword in hand he trudged forward, Njama still digging in the background. Well arent you just a fool to try and stop me!

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word count: 292
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William Dovecraft
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Re: Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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William could hear the mitts of that beast digging towards the coffin in the background, a good dozen yards away. The clatter of its claws against wood alerted him that it had found whatever it was that it was looking for, and William began to worry that this might devolve into a two against one. He was doubtful he could outrun a hound. It just wasn’t feasible. Such a massive hound...

Peering through the howling storm, Will’s darkened brow caught sight of that massive blade, and he began to cower. The reach. The size of this man. Under normal circumstances, Will might have given it a shot, but a tremor ran down his spine. He took a step back, and his boot sunk into the mud and started to slide as he braced himself. His legs locked, and he started to tip backward. Oh no! With a wet slap, his body slapped the mud, shield up, hammer flailing out and then arcing back down with him.

William! Yaal’tiesh called, as the boy fell upon his back into the mud, desperately kicking. Get up!

Those feet just couldn’t get proper purchase in the mud. The mud was too damn slippery! He didn’t dare turn, tucking his knees in and covering his entire body with that large shield, hammer sliding through the mud as he swiped at the air with it, losing sight of the burly man in the haze of pounding rain. “Stay back!” William cried, but Cervantez was already upon him.

word count: 263
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Cervantez
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Joined: Tue Jul 03, 2018 8:59 am
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Re: Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Saun 21st, Arc 718, Heavy Rain



☠ Mood: Annoyed
☠ Current Thought: Fool
☠ Current Theme: Valley of the Shadow of Death


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To have the audacity to challenge the necromancer, this piss-ant had some balls for sure. What many didnt not know was that words and certain actions wouldnt cause offense to Cervantez, but to try and impede his necro-research, well that in itself was a blasphemous insult all in on its own. Using the context clues this interloper was giving him, the necromancer could tell he was young, or at least sounded as such. No bass whatsoever in his voice, and yet he thinks he is threatening? That wasnt going to work for the Lotharro. He could see the figure stumble over themselves and into the mud, the terrain not being in their favor. Being a native, Cerv was all to familiar with the mud during the heavy rains of Saun, and could move in it, despite the difficulty that came with it.Looming over the flailing little man, Cerv pinned the man down with his great-sword, using the forked tongue of the blade to hold the man's neck in place. His flaming eyes peered down at the unfortunate soul. You must not be from around these parts if ya think grave robbing is a sin. Dont you know anything about the city you live in foreigner? We respect the soul, not the body, I can dig up as many graves as I want. The towering male barked, leaning in very close, close enough to get a good look, even in all this muck and rain at the man beneath his feet. You know, If I wanted to, I could pin you down into the mud and let you drown? He teased as he left foot pressed on the shield the young man held over his body, really putting his body weight into it.

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word count: 330
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William Dovecraft
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Re: Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Will tried to move, digging his heels deeper into the sucking mud, which squelched to the tune of his struggles. By Cassion, I am outmatched! Will fretted. Had there been no mud, he might have stood a chance, but now this man was lording over him, the boy frozen in fear as the prong of that sword enclosed around his neck like the jaws of some great beast, Will’s blue eyes staring up at that shadowy form which stomped on his shield and started pressing, and in tandem with the blade, he began to sink into the mud like a ship capsizing at sea.

The boy kicked, slopping mud pointlessly over Cervantez’ muddy boot, as if he had to do something, the mud covering his ears now, muting the world as the serenity of death and worlds beyond threatened upon the edges of his conscious. That was no light threat Cervantez made, and for a brief moment, Will was certain he would join the many graves littered about, one buried under so little that the rains would wash him from his resting place in the Trials to come.

Coughing, his voice rattled, deep and serious. “I had the wrong grave, sir,” he said. “C-carry on. Rrgh.” He was too afraid to engage in philosophical debate about the woes and worries of grave robbing, more concerned with saving himself. It was a blow to his pride, to his self-esteem, and he could not help but envy the very blade that sought to end him. “Damn...”

William’s eyes stared at something beyond, focusing on a black shadow over his assailant’s shoulder, even now, his mind straying to the spirits for solace.
word count: 291
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Cervantez
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Re: Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Saun 21st, Arc 718, Heavy Rain



☠ Mood: Annoyed
☠ Current Thought: Fool
☠ Current Theme: Valley of the Shadow of Death


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Wrenching his blade from the mud, palming the little man by the head into the wet air. I find your lack of balls to be disturbing & insulting. Wrong grave my ass. He said dropping the small man. Pointing the large sword at the offender the blue-green flame withing his eye cavities flared a bit. Im going to show you what happens when you overstep you place foreigner, now on your feet, or die like a bitch in the mud! The Lotharro roared, offended by this man's weak display. He was turning tail and trying to run after confronting someone for something he new knowing about. The man would learn in this trial how Yaris feel about cowardice. Even in his anger, he kept his cool, not letting it show, but would instead channel it into this battle. It was the best way to ensure this welp would learn his lesson. Cerv was being nice if one could see it as that, giving him a sparing lesson and hopefully through a defeat, making the man bitter yet wiser in his actions going forward. A hurt pride was always a good teacher to the foolish and arrogant. If you dont get on your feet now, i'll feed you to my Massibex, and he loves the taste of young mortal meat. He said, intimidating the man into a fight. Running is pointless, as my hound can outrun a thorough bred horse. He said to add weight to the situation, his natural voice deep, yet intimidating all on its on. He was going to force this fight.

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word count: 299
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William Dovecraft
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Re: Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Like the rising gates of the afterlife, that sword began to lift, just barely cutting into his neck. Pain erupted within Will's mind, but he grit his teeth, ignoring his senses as that large palm came down, and through slatted eyes, Will saw something truly horrifying. His eyes! Will started to struggle right before he was dropped, and slid on his rear through the mud, slipping every time he tried to stand on the uneven slosh.

When Cervantez gave that next threat, he sucked in a deep breath and bent forward, pushing with his shield to right himself on unsteady legs! "What are you?" William gasped as he stood, a hunch on his mind, but that creeping thought that the man could have ended him then and there seeped into his mind like the lull of a siren. Cervantez' words still hung in his mind, playing around like a ball kicked between two children. I am not a coward! That brown contorted into a glare, a seriousness on his face. Yaal'tiesh whispered worried words into his mind, but Will shrugged them off, lowering the grip of his hammer and letting it slide down, at the ready to strike.

Think, Will! Strategy! You need a strategy! His eyes widened, watching Cervantez. "Fine then, I won't run," Will said, lifting his hammer, pointing it at the man. "That's a big sword you've got." He looked down at the mud, taking a step and feeling his boot slide. "You'll fall on your ass if I rush you, right? But then your dog will attack me. It's two against one, in that case."

The water was dripping off his face, getting in his eyes. Visibility was already poor. "Nobody has to get hurt," he bargained, but he didn't waiver this time, bracing his shield enough that he could tilt back and cover his face if need be, or drop it if that slow hunk of metal swept for his legs. With a sigh, he uttered a prayer, barely audible under the pouring rain. "By the grace of Ashan, keep my feet free of this trapping mud, and by Cassion, may my story be told another day..."
word count: 377
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Cervantez
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Joined: Tue Jul 03, 2018 8:59 am
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Renown: 195
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Re: Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Saun 21st, Arc 718, Heavy Rain



☠ Mood: Annoyed
☠ Current Thought: Fool
☠ Current Theme: Valley of the Shadow of Death


☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠

Was it really worth it to kill this young man? Yes, yes it was. Interfering in Cerv's work was a death sentence in itself. Cerv smirked as the small man tried to talk his way out of things. The inflection in his tone, even in this heavy downpour, indicated the man was fearful of a full on match against the lotharro. Not even giving the man a response, he charged him, cocking the great-sword back, in order to give it a mighty swing in a downward diagonal slash, sure to send the frail mortal soaring across the liquid ground. He was going to make the man regret picking a fight and it was going to be a lesson he wouldnt forget........being if he survived this trial that is. Cervantez was mulling over the idea of killing him, or simply beating him senseless. In Yaralon there was nothing worse than being disgrace in combat, a fate worse than exile, most wishing to welcome death instead. In any case he was going to have fun. Taking a look back, he could tell Nja was still digging till his heart contented, which allowed him to focus on the fight at hand. Slowly he made his way over to the man who should be on the ground several feet away after taking a hit from him. Shield or not, the environment was not in his favor at all. "Quit your pleading, there is no getting out of this, welcome to the city of Yaralon bitch!"

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William Dovecraft
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Re: Fresh Bodies, Locally Sourced

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Before Will could much think of the situation, as he knew he should, the towering man gave him no chance at all. Will’s feet went rigid in the mud, and that big, slow sword curved down like a heavy pendulum, hurtling towards his shield. The bright white flash of a spark screeched across his shield, and a heavy force rattled through his whole body, from his shield arm down to his feet, forcing his knees to buckle, until the angle of the scene sent him falling to the mud, rolling down the hill for several meters until he spread out his arms to catch himself in the squishy slop of dirt where the dead did lay.

“Gkgah!” Will picked himself up, but Cervantez was uphill now, slowly making his way down. It would be wise to run - but his dog, yeah. My only chance is to fight - how am I going to deal with this guy? Peering with those eyes, he gazed at that sword. It’s long, long enough to reach me from afar. But it’s slow. It’s got so much weight that I can’t keep my feet planted. Either he’s going easy on me, or he sucks, because that swing was hardly on target - right? He thought about it, bracing himself. Yeah, I’ve got a chance, but this environment just doesn’t favor me! And what of those eyes!? He isn’t a mage, is he? I’d be dead by now if he used magic.

Maybe if I can make him slip. If only I’d brought my crossbow! “Quit your bitchin’!” Will yelled back, goading him on. The hill sprawled downward, before ending in a massive puddle. Studying the situation carefully, Will realized that the high ground so favored this opponent. There was not a single thing he could do. Wait! His eyes widened, then leered, an idea forming in his mind. “If you’d fight me on even ground we’d be an even match. For all your shit-talking, you fight like a quivering pussy!”

Working up the courage with short, deep breaths, Will waited for Cervantez to step forward towards him, and then jumped and turned, landing on his back in the mud. He threw his shield up to block the sword, and then screamed, heart pumping until his muscle pushed against the Lotharro’s, forcing the blade up. Without hesitation, he jammed the lip into the man’s shin, reaching up with his arm beneath the shield to twist his whole body around and throw the odd man’s leg off balance! “Eat shit!”
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