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Consigliere

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About Consigliere

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  1. [Quest] Eerie Impressions

    "Firm principles for situations with undeterminable outcomes, such as this one. I can understand." Jahan quietly hummed, careful to not include any kind of sycophancy, or any indications that might point towards his own assertions about the creature's nigh incomprehensibly complex answer. Halting his steps, he would unhurriedly turn towards the hulking creature, eyes shrouded under long, straight strands of a soft copper hue, a hand already reaching towards his belt to grab the rolled up sheet of paper once again, which a second later would gently extend itself to present the map to the monstrosity. "This is the map. The Reanimated found it, apparently, as he was carrying it before I took it-" After hearing a short, unintelligible muttering, he quickly glanced around only to spot Kian's worried face. The path they were following, it would seem, was one that was farther from the public eye, yet there were still many a farmer passing by. Soft gasps escaped nearly each and every one of them as they caught sight of the imposing beast. Had it not been for Kian quickly coaxing them into hurrying along to their jobs; be it by hasty gestures or short, whispered warnings, another scenario that could upset the creature -and Jahan- even further could have taken place. "..Alas, whoever the original owner was, they left after handing it to the creature. Or maybe, 'fled' would be the more appropriate term." Jahan went silent, the low and carefully modulated tone of his held down for what felt too long to only be mere seconds. Under the impression that he was collecting his thoughts, Jahan was seeking the source of the muttering he had heard not too long ago. No doubt it was Kian, he thought, as another one near faltered in her steps as her head turned from the fearsome monster towards the youngling. Kian pulled on the straw basket on her back, grabbed her tiny arm and leaned near her ear. A few unheard words later, the woman was nearly thrown back onto her path, her steps as quick as they were while they were unknowingly approaching the trio. What Jahan did not understand was the expression that distorted the boy's features. Kian's large brown eyes seemed guileless still, but they couldn't hide the agitation that bordered on being vile as they watched the woman walk away. Why was he taking this this seriously? Jahan was a millisecond too late while averting his watch from the boy's face. Kian had already caught his dissecting stare a good moment before he went back to his sentence. "Or the.. Corpse found it on his own, but there aren't many reasonings to back up the claim, I would dare say, my lady." Four silver teeth gleamed under the morning sun as what seemed to be a cordial smile lightened his visage. "Regardless of the 'why' and 'how', Kian here has told me that he might know the person the map belongs to, and among all, I would love to see why someone would give away a map and not look back after doing so." The young man eyed him with a questioning look. ..Damn it. "Now, might we be on our way?"
  2. Confession Thread

  3. [Quest] Eerie Impressions

    And there came the phantasmal beast, barely noticeable, at least until she let her voice thunder across the docks, across the main road, and perhaps even farther. Details aside-- it was loud enough to cause little children to look out from their windows. As their small hands rested on the wooden sills, already sleepy eyes became even foggier with the anger caused by the disturbance which interrupted dreams created. One or two dozen little heads popped up to look down from the tastefully painted, but still obviously worn out buildings before succumbing to tiredness; never caring about the parents and the elderly who were out to collect the rewards of an early day's work, or noticing the source(s) of the rightful panic teeming on the main road to Dougton. Meanwhile, below was a group consisting of three individuals who were also looking to collect the rewards of an early day's work, but they wished for less farm work and more straight-up gold. The only human one out of them, Jahan, a 33-year-old man who didn't look a day older than 25 -or so he thought- would introduce himself as Kublai if asked. However, pleasantries seemed far from possible at the moment, he was trying to keep a young man from jumping onto the bag of bones they had brought along with them while also trying to accommodate the alien creature -who had a bad sense of timing- after all. "LET ME GO! I WILL KILL YA 'ND THAT DAMNED SACK O' SHIT BOTH! ANDREA, GET AWAY!" "My lady." A dry, empty greeting was all that Jahan deigned to give the enormous creature as a sign of acknowledgment. His hands kept their steady pressure on the brother's shoulders, his fingers almost digging through the firm but sensitive flesh that surrounded them. "You are right on time." The corpse fell down, the sister barely managed to flee the scene, and the boy seemed to almost fly out of Jahan's hands. Ah- Jahan unintentionally staggered backward; an internal sigh cooling down his mind and his nerves as he, if only for a second, touched the device strapped to his left arm. My luck just decided to make a comeback, then. "I told you he wouldn't hurt anyone." His voice, unusually loud and virulent, would easily reach the boy who had ran to his sister's side in the blink of an eye. An equally bitter look he had needed only reveal a negligible amount of to pull on the invisible leash of the boy. A few words exchanged between him and his still teary eyed, younger sister, and he came back rushing to his occupier. As Jahan felt his facial muscles strain and eyes narrow -this much narrowing couldn't be good for the crow's feet that had recently started to develop around them- he also became aware of the silence that had newly arrived. The last of the crowd had left when the creature came, or when it was heard. None of them saw the beast as a magical creature, as opposed to the walking corpse, and what a Dougtonite saw was what a Dougtonite knew. And if she was indeed a magical creature, then they would pray that the Genius Loci knew what they were doing; for none of them even thought to interact with the intimidating, hulking monster. The fear they felt around her was not the same type of fear they felt around a Reanimated corpse. That is if the said corpse would even be able to get back up again. Because this time, he actually looked like what a proper corpse should look like. The boy himself would be a clear confirmation of this case, he didn't dare look up to the unadorned mask of the colossal monstrosity but had it in him to step on the motionless arm of the rotten body, even spitting on it before turning his face to Jahan. Disquisitive eyes calmly watched as the youngling wiped off the remnants of saliva with a quick sweep of his arm. If this was any other place, he would be cringing with disgust, but they were in a village and a run-off-the-mill boy having the courage to spit on a corpse which was walking only a few moments ago was.. Commendable. As hard as it was to confess. "A setback for sure, my lady." Jahan glanced at the carcass before lightly gesturing towards the alien creature. "But we've got more important things to take care of." A hand snaked itself onto the boy's arm, and hesitantly placed itself there. An unwritten invitation for sympathy. "I apologize for hurting you like that." Jahan quickly eased his expression into a softer one, turning it into one of warm expectation from cold scrutinization. "What did you say your name was, again?" "Kian, mister." He seemed determined on watching his sister, and not meeting Jahan's eyes. A bit too attached, isn't he? Jahan thought to himself, but he did not know these people's practices. He knew well enough that this was a very close-knit community, but overlooking a conversation with a dubious stranger to watch someone who had already gotten away from the scenery? Forget it. It's too early to be making certain judgments. "Alright then, Kian. I'm Kublai." He gently shook him to turn him around. "And I would like for you to lead us to the map's real owner.." He stopped for a second before completing his sentence, to stress his point further. "..Now." "A'ight, mister." Kian did not comment on it, but he could guess who "us" was. "Less get 'is done with." The way his voice had deepened, it was as if he would remember the fact that he could scream for an officer any moment. Jahan addressed his tremendous companion a last time before he started following after Kian, skittering behind him, not too close, nor too far.
  4. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    I'm afraid I don't really have anything on kings and queens. Or conquerors. We never took or even earned land, we bought it. The only thing I can come up with here is the fact that we were never sold, or enslaved. Even when my great-great grandfather was near starvation, he managed to find an Aleppian merchant's daughter to marry, saving himself and the generations to come. And I did think of it being impressive in its own right, I certainly did. The people of that time didn't know slavery was wrong, did they? And it's only normal that it would seem impressive when you think about it. Still doesn't change the fact that it doesn't fit with today's way of thinking. Or, at the very least, my way of thinking.
  5. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    >Noble bloodline 300 year old family roots possibly dating back to the Golden Age of Central Asia, merchants from Samarkand of the tribe with the same name. Today's family still runs five star hotels and textile shops. Although I'm on the less lucky side, don't tell anyone. Noble.. My ancestors sold the blonde and the ginger haired as exotic slaves. I have no idea if I should be proud of that, however. Probably not.
  6. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    If history is truly cylical, I myself may be onto something. Then again, with that point of view, everyone could be.
  7. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    A few friends' talk led me to him. I can't say his views fit mine, which is the exact reason I still keep up with what he's posting. Plus, he does post fun things from time to time.
  8. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    Gotta love random Bronze Age Pervert propaganda.
  9. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    Sauteed human liver with a glass of Chianti. edge
  10. [Quest] Eerie Impressions

    Contemptible, loathsome, detestable, worthless, wretched... Whatever word he thought to fit the situation at hand to, perhaps make it a tad more digestible, did not and would not change the fact that indeed; Jahan was witnessing a corpse as it forced its nauseous excuse for a head back onto its shoulders. "AAAAGH!" A petrifying scream, also making clear that the screaming person herself was petrified, ripped him away from his thoughts-- and it certainly ripped a couple of vocal chords, too. The 6'6 man almost jumped out of his skin and immediately turned around, without even being able to feel embarrasment for such a feeble display of being afraid, to a fluttering mess consisting of tears, a broken crate of apples, a very, very pale face, and an oblivious figure standing next to this majestic demonstration. "THAT WAS THE BEST PICKIN' OF THE LAST FUCKIN' HARVEST-- JASON'S KNICKERS, ANDREA! WHAT. ARE. YOU!--" Another scream, while cut short and not directed at Jahan or his associate, was enough to make him take a step back. A young girl; having collapsed onto her knees moments ago, currently trying to crawl away from the scenery as tears rolled off her cheeks and apples off her lap was not too threatening. However, the young man beside her; having seen what the monstrous creature next to Jahan had done moments ago, currently running towards that gargantuan officer near the airship, his anger for the "best pickin' of the last fuckin' harvest" being spilled onto the ground now only a mix of utter fear and shock, was threatening. Well, contemptible, loathsome, detestable, worthless, wretched did not seem to cut it. Stupid fucking waste of space, however? That was just what the doctor wanted. "Please--" A practical hiss slithered its way through Jahan's clenched teeth and shapely lips as he stepped over the ripened, dark red apples; -unintentionally- kicking one towards the girl who was still sobbing on the ground, before he started sprinting after the young man. "Please!" Jahan finally found the chance to stop when there was only an arm's length of distance left between him and the man. As the rest of his body relaxed, his right arm flew towards the thin material of the man's jerkin; long fingers hooking themselves through the back of the collar. This proved to be an effective way of stopping the man, as his hasty steps quickly faltered when the wooly material of his outfit ultimately coiled around his throat. Considering the force with which Jahan was pulling him, it naturally didn't stop there, and the man had to choke and sputter to signal he had to be let go. "WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL ARE YA DOIN'?!" The young man, who really seemed to be a boy in his teens upon closer inspection, attempted unsuccessfully to push Jahan back before facing him. "I'm trying to help you!" Now, a pair of wide-set, light brown eyes was staring right at Jahan's face; and the way his own eyes were narrowed obviously betrayed his alarmed, pleading tone of voice. The boy started massaging his throat, the corners of his mouth twitching as to form an expression of rightful suspicion. "Ya help people by treatin' 'em this way? Or by bringin' along a bag o' rotten bones and scarin' me sis?! Mister, I dunno who ya think ya are, but uh-- necromancy, thass a sure example of breakin' the magic regulation, that is." He took a step forward, then looked around before spotting the officer pacing up and down in front of their ship, just a hundred metres away from them; her black, shining boots raising dust off of the ground with every step. A grin surfaced on his round face. "Ya lucky she didn't hear us, mister. Or maybe she did, but thought nothin' of it." His grin widened. "People 'ere are known ta raise a heck lot of hell when it's harvest time. But if someone who 'as heard me sis -and trust me, they 'ave- comes around to let her or someun' else know.." He stopped, raising his head to perhaps, try and intimidate Jahan, he couldn't be any taller than 5'7. "..Ya are in for a bad time, mister. Breakin' rules o' magic is a sure crime, 'specially round here." A flash of what was probably a quite personal memory shone in his eyes, a sorrowful memory, surely of something very dire. "An' I don't like the look on your face." Jahan forced the expression on his face to turn into one of disgust. This way, he could easily hide what he really felt about the situation. "And you may continue not to.." He adjusted his shawl and cleared his troat before completing his sentence, taking a mental note of how quickly the boy's body language changed after that. He looked like he was going to ram Jahan with an invisible pair of horns a second ago, now he had crossed his arms and was slowly pulling himself away with miniscule steps. "..I spoke with your 'officer'." The boy raised an eyebrow right after he was finished. It seemed he wanted some kind of proof. Jahan resumed: "Around my height, small, black eyes, narrow forehead, very.. Cautious with strangers?" "We're all very cautious with strangers. This is our Dougton." The boy spat right back before abruptly calming down and muttering. "But.. Thass indeed Lysia." His tone changed into a worrisome one as his bushy eyebrows knit together. "She.. She ain't angry 'bout that.. Thing ya got with ya? But--" "She wasn't quite 'angry'." Jahan cut him off, slowly easing his disgusted expression into a neutral one. "At least not after I told her that we were only here to look for our rightful coin." His lips allowed for an ever so slight -and other than that, featureless- smile to grace them. "And my friend.." He could feel the bile rising to his throat as he spoke of the useless, stitched-together bag of rot and filth as a "friend", though he quickly stopped himself from heaving; "..Is able to think and act for himself. He won't cause any harm to anyone." Even Jahan, it seemed, could be sickened with the amount of lies he told in one day. Therefore, he quickly grabbed the rolled up sheet of paper he had stuck behind his belt after the unfortunate event of the undead monster dropping it onto the ground, while trying to.. Put his arms back into place. "Look." He offered the paper to the boy. "He was even able to get this." The boy glanced at him, and then at the rolled up sheet of paper, and then at him again before reaching out with calloused fingers to inspect the sheet. "Oh." He straightened the paper as a bead of sweat dripped from his nose to his worn-out shoes. "This is, uh.. This is that guy's drawin'. Have seen it 'fore." He seemed to very quietly curse a friend's name before going on. "Deals with researchin' and collectin' info on.. Jason knows wha' type of shady shit. Gotta public office type o' workplace thingie, is all I know. But why show me this?" "I.." The taller man gestured as if describing a scenery. "..Lost the said person amidst all the commotion, you see. I was hoping to find someone to take me back to him." The teenaged boy wouldn't answer him for a few moments. He had almost buried his blond haired head into the map, his eyes frantically darting around on the drawing's details. "This.. Is the latest rumors'... That genius bastard.." Jahan's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as the boy raised his head and looked at Jahan with a horrified yet equally amazed guise. "Mister.. Ya sure ya came here for this?.." A genuine smile formed on Jahan's face, for but a split-second. "Why, yes. I am completely sure." "I see. So ya deal with this type o' thing to make money.." The boy backed off. "I'm sorry for my earlier actions, mister. I didn't mean ta alarm ya, just.." He briefly shut his mouth, silently nodding to himself. "Lemme stop talkin' and take ya to the man. If ya wanna take your.. Companion first, though.." He pointed towards the inner part of the entrance road, looking over Jahan's shoulder. Jahan would turn to see a crowd of people having formed a near perfect circle where the undead monster and the boy's sister were at. A sigh, long and tired, escaped through Jahan's nostrils. "I will take my companion back first. However, I do not want to deal with the crowd." A venomous stare would shatter the youngling's own. "Yes, mister. Will explain there's nothin' to be concerned with to 'em." They quickly reached the crowd, and the boy immediately got to disbanding everyone. His enthusiasm was viewed askance by Jahan, but he couldn't spare a piece of his mind while, again, searching for the monster. Where have you gone now, disgusting piece of utter filth? He was more worked up than he would be willing to admit at the moment.
  11. About Jahan (WiP)

    -
  12. [Quest] Eerie Impressions

    Why would a rural farming town have a docking station specifically suited for airships? What little Jahan could learn about Dougton from attempting smalltalk with the captain of the ship -with much disregard for his passive agressive demeanour, of course- and from reading an almost outdated travel book on Terrenus did nothing but confirm his suspicions; the average person knew what his neighbour had for dinner, most everyone at the very least dabbled in farming, superstitions were taken seriosly by many, police were recruited from the local townsfolk and could be seen running to have lunch with their families the second they were released from their daily duty, and the loveliest part-- All of them were highly suspicious of strangers. Therefore it seemed, the dock was just an improvement from the seemingly hopelessly idealistic "god-king" of Terrenus, or some other lower ranked person of status. This had to be the worst possible place to look for something that a nameless creature's gods would want destroyed. And as if to be the indicator of the fact that his thoughts were completely right; the second Jahan got off the airship he spotted a woman almost as tall as him, dressed in what could only be described as a uniform that was on the limit of being a full-blown plated armor, staring down at him. A guard, patrolling the docks. How convenient. Oh, he had to admit, her figure complimented the warm atmosphere that surrounded his vision. Brick houses, striped awnings, half-paved dirt roads, the distinctive smell of manure mixed in with the not so pleasant aroma of soil satiated with rain water, the sun shining through the heavy clouds, and this woman. Jahan stood there, self aware that he seemed half-frozen to the average observer. His outfit covered most of him, upon close inspection what would be revealed to be a simple shawl hung loose from his broad shoulders, giving off the impression that it was some type of worn out, short cape with its tattered ends. The dark hood he had always been fond of was thrown to the back of his head, which kept the length of his hair from being seen. A light brown, leather coat made from a quite light material ran along the entire length of his upper body and a few fingers down his hips, its surface covered with many buttons and gleaming zippers which were the telltale sign of this piece of clothing being ideal for practical purposes, unlike what he had been wearing before. What completed the rest of his incognito look were knee high boots made from a durable type of syntethic leather, along with a pair of black pants of a denim-like material. He most definitely did not look trustworthy. A problem he wished he could solve. "Are you with that..?" Her accent was almost unintelligible-- another stereotypical attribute of an average rural town, Jahan thought. Still, he understood her. These Terran people were lucky their tongue was almost the same as an Aniyasha's, the language Jahan could speak as fluently as he could speak his mother language. The woman gestured towards their undead companion, who brought along with him a thousand times more dubiousity than Jahan ever could, and the smell of rot to boot. He had already headed out; leaving Jahan and the other to go after him. "I am." He replied. "We are no trouble, and look only for rightful coin." A barefaced lie. "You're.. A necromancer looking for work, then?" Jahan could only raise his eyebrows in response to such a question. Did he look like a necromancer? The pair of sturdy sack-like bags that hung from his belt could look like they had tomes inside them, and the short but thick, cyclinder shaped device strapped to his arm could resemble some type of staff, but was that enough to think of someone as a necromancer? Maybe it was about his face, or build that came close to being willowy with his long limbs. "No, he thinks and acts for himself--" "Be careful then." She almost spat. This officer had no time for answers to her own questions, it seemed. "There are fifteen thousand of us here, and our PeaceKeeper, worth being mentioned seperately. No one will have sympathy for the actions of a walking, thinking corpse and.." Her little, black eyes focused on Jahan's face for a second; peering intently from the protective shade of her helmet. A second later, her cheeks reddened, and her gaze faltered. It was obvious from her figure that she was young, and therefore probably new to being an officer, but Jahan had not expected her to be this defenseless. It seemed her impatient and fiery attitude was overcompensating for something. Jahan smiled, and met her eyes. He took a step towards the officer, and bowed his head slightly; this being enough for him to be face to face with the woman who was nearly as tall as him. Oh, I knew I still had it. "..Someone who is looking for work, yes. Honored to meet you, officer, and good day." He kept his gaze on her as he said this; his smile slowly dissolving as he moved away and started looking for his undead companion. There he was, walking back to the ship from the main entrance road that lead to the town, holding something in his hands. Jahan acted quickly, and reached him before he could return to the ship. He ignored the macabre creature almost completely, and focused on what he was holding. A map. He had found a map. In a few minutes. How... Who could've..? His cold, green eyes started darting around, searching like a blood hound for someone who could have handed a walking corpse a map. There were men and women shooting both horrified and suspicious looks at them, dressed in the most modest of clothing and all of them with the slight whiff of soil about them, obviously wondering what they were here for; and others like them walking, almost running, past them; he could hear their mutterings under their breath. "I just have to get this to Israh--" "Strangers. Bet my entire garden they're flea-carrying couriers-- Wait, is that..?!" "This new station does us no good. Anyone who knows Dougton 'an get 'ere without a' airship. Blasted outsiders, non' of 'em worth a lick o' salt..." No, no one looked -or sounded- like they would be willing to have a friendly conversation with this bag of rotten flesh. Jahan breathed through his nose, his shoulders dropping in a defeated fashion, as he did the next best thing he could do. He stared into the lifeless orbs the creature had for eyes, and asked, as clearly as he could: "Where did you get that from?"
  13. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    That is not a cat. That is an entity from another dimension, hiding behind the disguise of absolute cuteness in order to trick you into giving your soul over to him. The only thing he cannot hide is his ungodly screeching.
  14. General Chatter [18+] Violence always permitted!

    *laughs in North Korean*
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