Jump to content


  • Content Count

  • Joined

  • Last visited

About Pala

  • Rank

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Whatever one I wish to be
  • Location
    Somewhere Between here and there

Recent Profile Visitors

690 profile views
  1. Ewyer shook his head with a mischievous smile, and set down his satchel, giving his old buddy a wink. Though he never publicly stated it, he had always found it funny how none had questioned how the redhead always seemed to be holding items as if they had come out of nowhere, before they would shortly after disappear. He always found it a tad bit comical, yet had never said anything, as if it were his own private joke. "I've got my usual tools all with me- That junk you may have seen in my various workshops and smitheries? all of that is just bullshit, friend. If you want to pull in the orders, you got to look the part on top of actually having the skills. Its why I always dress up in my funny sort of fancy outfits whenever I'm not travelling miles upon miles. I'll start building some drafts out of aluminium, see if I can can some nice shapes going so I don't fuck up the actual product itself. I always carry my real tools along with me- I usually get the best ideas by just observing people and copying the inane shit they're able to pull off." He gave a wink, and from the little bag, pulled out a hammer, old and worn as the desert sands by the look of it. Yet encrusted upon it seemed to be symbols, lines that shown dully across the dirty surface of the old tool. It seemed that the item had been scribbled over relentlessly, and along with it, Ewyer pulled several bars of the bright metal, staring at its grey and opaque surface for a moment, before glancing back up at his friend. The bag never even seemed to react, still remaining flat, as if nothing had left it at all. "You simply give me what you want me to work with, and a lil bit of elbow room, and in no time flat I'll have built you the most beautiful set of armour your eyes have ever laid witness to. Just remember though- if this is a favour, I expect to be let in on the later processes. You ain't kicking me out of this place unless you give me money or force me out." He finished, his eyes a-twinkle with the sparks of curiosity and excitement. This truly was a project like no other he had done before, and he craved its future as if it were the only thing that he could think about. In a strange sort of way, he hoped that Hawk would have more work for him to do after this was over. He had missed being useful to people, as comfort and time to kill no longer seemed as fun as it had way back when all he worried about was how clean his rifle was, or if he'd be caught for drinking on duty.
  2. Nacht was silent for a moment, standing there as he looked down upon the man that he had butchered. However, as he spoke, responding to Evelynn in a manner that could be called hostile at the very best. His tone seemed edged, as if the wrong response could render him more akin to that of an enemy then that of an ally. His voice rose in volume as he spoke, eventually becoming a scream which was underlined with rage. "I didn't? Do you not understand what this man has done? You believe that he deserved mercy, when he denied mercy for all the innocent bodies you see about you? You say he deserved mercy when the stench of death of those who did not deserve to die is so ripe I can practically taste the screams and agony in the air? Have you no sense, or do you believe he was in the right? Do you believe that all this before us is alright, that it is something a man that deserves mercy would do? DO YOU SANCTION THE ATROCITIES THT HAVE BEEN COMMITED? YOU BELIEVE ANYTHING HE HAD TO SAY WOULD HAVE HAD DESERVING OF BEING TREATED ANYTHING LESS THAN THE ANIMAL HE WAS?" His angry screams cut themselves off suddenly, as if a child have a tantrum, he once more raised the war axe, the very thought of raising him back to thier plane fueling him as he brought down the axe. The skull shattered, bones as if nothing before the steel in which the man wielded, and blood and flesh merely a barrier that lasted less than a second as it was sliced through by the sharpened end of the weapon. However, he was not done, as he continued to raise and slam the axe in a manner of pure savagery, not stopping until the mans head was nothing but a memory, and chunks of flesh and bone which could only be known to be a human head because it was in the place of where one would be. His breathing now heavy, he spoke yet again, his voice a hiss as he spoke down to the body, his violent outburst taking up all of his minds functions, so much so that he did not see the exchange of a book which he surely would find less than appreciated. Merely staring down at the bloodied form, and standing upon his feet, he answered the question asked of him, letting the axe droop downwards as it was only held by a single hand, swingly lightly back and forth. "We continue to advance, whether it be forward and blatant, or slow and subtle. . .and kill anything- or anyone- that decides to enter our sight lines. I do not fear thier magic. If they only have the ability to cast upon us fire and beasts, then there is no chance they may achieve victory. Then, if you're sure you have everything you want, I will fully intend to set this place alight, whether or not it is even possible due to how much blood surely stains everything within its borders. Its the least the innocents still trapped here deserve. Maybe they may finally rest after this place no longer exists." He said, emphasizing the the "anyone" in his statement as he spoke it. Glancing to the sky, sweat stained his face, and he wiped a hand along his forehead, not caring about the blood that followed it. Then, he spoke once more, providing a statement which he hoped fully got his intentions and beliefs across. "Though you two may sanction it, if you dare raise the dead or use those demonic things for your bidding, I will not hesitate to cut down anything that follows you as if it followed our enemies. The only thing stopping me from exerting my usually punishment for such crimes against all living things, or what I call as crimes, is the fact of who you are. You are not inherently bad people, but I am not an inherently good person. One of you is paying me, and that is why I have not spoken my mind. The other, a friend of someone I car greatly for, and to who I owe a debt, and that is why I have overlooked her actions. I'm certain it is known who is who."
  3. The redhead nodded, understanding the reasoning behind such a decision. Though his skills would undeniably make the gear better, he assumed that Hawk knew just as well as he did how long it took to build up such accentations to the plating. If Ewyer was correct, and he assumed he was, then any plans of mass production would be impossible if the model that was the base was one which could only be made by him. Thus, as he looked over the plans a once more, he didn't do much else than nod as his mental cogs began to turn. This thought was of course, what Hawk intended to use the armor for. As he heard the explanation of the finished product, of gear that would surely be better than even any construct or maybe even the likes of those which he thought to be the best fighters. Hell, if the plating was made well enough, and some functions were tweaked to give enhanced mobility and strength, which surely could be done if just the mere basics could be used to move such heavy plating, then perhaps a set as this could turn even the most ordinary man into a warrior capable of going a round of fistacuffs with the likes of his wife. The very thought both scared him, yet made him so incredibly captivated. "Very well, I'll try to keep the ideas in mind when I begin molding the plating. It shouldn't be that hard, similar to how I made that big hunk of metal back at the bastion, just at a much smaller and more intimate scale. Shouldn't be that hard all things considered, just a more spaced out form of plate armor. Built to withstand both blades and bullets to the best of abilities I assume, or would you also prefer it be thick enough to withstand blunts as well? As for the fastening, it shouldn't be that difficult given what has been accomplished thus far- Maybe some form of magnetization, I've heard that can be useful when used correctly. In any case, no matter what is done, I'll make sure the plating is both tight fitting, but not so that nothing could be fit inside of the shell-" He glanced up from the plans, realising that he had been doing quite an awful bit of rambling. He hadn't realised it, but he had gone full business mindset, explaining things as if Hawk had no idea how metal and his craft worked. A sheepish look crossed his features, and he cleared his throat in response to his own thoughts, remaining silent for but a moment. Hoping he had not seemed as young as he had sounded to himself, he smiled, both a tad bit nostalgic and bashful in its nature. "No matter what the final outcome is, I'll make sure to work this armor into existence with the best of my ability. I trust you'll only do great things with it. In my spare time, I'll do my best to learn these new concepts as well- I've kept myself in the dark for an inexcusable amount of time. That is simply unacceptable, and will be changing in a snap."
  4. Ewyer snorted, a small smile brimming upon his face, before he nodded. Though he didn't like to admit it, Asher was fully correct. Nacht was an overthinker, that much he knew as fact. But he also knew it was better to think too much, than to not think enough. Plenty of times his over-thinking had saved him, whether he was dealing with a beast who's very tentacles could sever flesh, a man who knew not what death was, or his so very frequent encounters with a slime that was practically a walking being of steel. He understands that he's most likely and fool, and with Asher uttering the words "control over the world" he understands firmly what Asher's belief is. But Ewyer was not a man who thought he could work everything as if it were a machine. He was but a cog, not a mechanic, after all. "I've found that it's better to know things, to understand them, and to go over them fully as many times as I can. On top of everything else that I am, if I do not think, then I'm no different than a savage. It's better to distrust even your closest friends, to make contingencies for their very destruction, than to be unprepared for when the worst happens, whether they intend for it to happen, or not. It's an offense, to believe even yourself free from influence. Its an offense, to be unprepared for til the end, to be unprepared for the end." However, Nacht does not hold the same views as Asher does in regard to Lucinda's supposed actions. He intends not to pull any scandals, to force any outcomes, to land any strikes. All he wishes for is the truth. While he is no fool, and while he holds not sort of notions of chivalry nor arrogance in regards to his social standing, at the very least, he felt like his honour had been trampled on. His mind could not but wonder, if while all the time he was fighting out in the fields, in the streets, all the times he had fought against the odds, all the times he had fought for his former country, if during all of that, a woman who at the very best could he would call a lesser noble and a friend of his wife, had been committing acts of attempted adultery towards his love. He did not doubt that nothing had occurred between them- Addison was even more steadfast in her honour than he was. "You don't understand sir. It's not about how I feel about my wife. I will not deny that I am angry, that I am upset. I will not deny either, that sometimes I feel as if with the new world we are in, that I am forgotten by my peers. But what you suggest, would have most likely occurred when I was helping people. Sometimes, her people. Usually, my own. It fills me with disappointment, because I will not lie to you sir. I would never speak my views on Lucinda, but I sometimes wonder if she deserves all that she has. Addison, I will not dare to speak of her as if she were my property- for she is nothing of the such. But there is a line sir. I need to know if that line was crossed." He understands that it would be better if he did not bother, if he did not try to seek the truth. It was truth, this would most likely do more harm than good, but Asher had piqued interest. Asher had awakened a feeling Ewyer hated, but always listened to. Asher had spoken as if there was something that Ewyer did not know, something important that he had been left in the dark about. That, to his very deepest core, alongside every ideal he held, was unacceptable. Thus, he only responded with few words, muttered quietly, yet not so that Asher would miss them. They were spoken as if a he didn't wish to admit them, yet he had no intent to lie. "I need to know." He didn't give much reaction to the childlike response that Eris gave him, not a laugh nor an expectable scowl. He seemed focused and intent on truly figuring himself on, as if he was writing a speech in his head, or trying to predict the future. He paid no mind to the covering below him, and simply seemed to nod to himself, as if coming to a conclusion, while at the same time, little tufts of brilliant red feathers began to sprout through his back, growing slowly, as if they were performing the action leisurely. He listened to the newest woman who had joined their discussion, and as he heard her talk, he seemed to smile, almost sadly. "I've always accepted what's happened to me as if it was fate miss. For so long, I had always just let myself be pushed around by those who supposedly knew better than I did. But as I've gotten older, as I've gotten wiser, and as I've met more people, I've gained new perspectives. There was once a man, a man who was my best friend. You wouldn't know him, and I am certain you never will. My best friend, was named Flynn. A man who acted on emotions, who acted as if he always was right. He taught me that sometimes you need to listen to yourself, to follow your beliefs. because those people who tell you what to do? They don't know you, and who are they to deserve the right to boss you around. My friend Flynn, taught me many things, but most of all, my friend Flynn taught me to make mistakes, so that you could look back on them later, and use them to decide how to act. My friend Flynn died living the way he wanted, my friend Flynn died learning despite being told not to, my friend Flynn died for all those around him, because he didn't want to let someone get away with something they didn't deserve to." He took a deep breath, steadying himself before he spoke again, so that his voice would be even. Discreetly, he raised his right arm, wiping at his eyes, and continued. "I trust Addison with everything that I am. She's risked herself, and she's more than proven she's trustworthy. I once thought I was a hero, but I know deep in my heart I pale in comparison to her. She's not perfect, I wouldn't dare state that, but I would never believe she would go behind my back just to be with someone else. I'm not that high standing, after all. I'm rather disappointed in you if you believe I am so low to cause a scandal over this. I'd like to think that although I am not as noteworthy as I once was, that I still have some sort of reputation. I just want to know the truth, I just want to talk to her." Then, he heard the voice that, despite not having heard often, he knew well. He turned, his eyes shifting, becoming darker, and looking as if they were almost violet in shade. It was quite a change from the usual pale blue, so alike that of eyes that were blind that often times people just assumed he could not see. It signified his mood, of course, though alike a lame mood ring, changes in colour usually heralded intense feelings one way or another, though they were not bound by the usual assumptions that came with certain shades, such as red being that of wrath and green that of envy. He didn't yet move, merely observed, as he knew that here, around so many others, was not the correct place to ask that question. That question would have to wait for later. That question required privacy. @Lucinda Valentine @Praetorian
  5. Ewyer smiled, rather excited to get started upon the new project. He seemed as if he was a child, a trait not displayed often other than with those he was genuinely close to. He watched Hawk, and as he glanced over to the tabletop that held what he discerned as blueprints, he could held but giggle, which he suppressed. That mess there was akin to his own various workshops, in a state of utter disarray and anarchy. As the plans for him were retrieved, he respectfully, but eagerly snatched the papers from Hawk, once more acting as if he was nothing more than a child. He seemed to study the articles for a moment, before nodding his head. It seemed easy enough, of course. He had been working with metal for such a long time now that he was able to shape and meld it almost on instinct, and had gotten so comfortable with it that he no longer even bothered with forges or smitheries, merely molding his own metallic works with his bare hands and his own abilities. "Shouldn't take me much longer than a few hours to get all this together and finished- Assuming of course you have the products you want me to make this lovely little suit out of, I could begin work instantly. Otherwise of course, I'll most likely take a few hours picking and choosing my process for all of it, and if you want integrity, I can do integrity, simple enough honestly. Nothing like a sword with all of the required pinpoint precisions in forging." He raised an eyebrow as he glanced over to Hawk, his cockiness speaking for itself, though of course he did have his ability to back it up. Though surely not the best smith alive in the current climate, he was still pretty damn good, or at the very least he liked to think so. "You want me to work my little enhancement signatures on this stuff, or would you prefer full authenticity?" @Hawk
  6. Ewyer strode with his usual sense of tense yet proud strides, feeling as if he was simple a guard dog to the two women- though of course, he had no issue with that. It was much better to feel unused when in a situation like this, he surmised. For while he planned to dispatch all who came before them with righteous destruction, he was more than aware that he was not invincible. While of course, he made sure to survey the area around them, to watch the buildings, to see through the darkness as if it held every beast imaginable. Swing back around after performing a secondary sweep, he took the crystals with a curt nod, muttering a quiet "Thank you kindly" as he dropped them into his side satchel, the bag, as per usual, making no sign that anything had even landed within it. Though he expected that the calm about them would not last, the sudden rupture of fire sent upon them was something he hadn't been fully prepared for. However, he did not flinch, did not step back nore withdraw. Fire hadn't scared him for a long time, after all. Despite the fact that his body was no longer as defensible as it had once been, he was not fearful of the heat that had once been nothing but an afterthought to him. However, he realised that despite the fact that it did not scare him, it was an issue, and thus he took to following his employers commands, moving to the nearest piece of cover he could find. It was not hard, for Ewyer was nothing if not thin and rather vertically impaired compared to some of his friends. The colour change went unnoticed, as despite the fact that it was quite unusual, it seemed as if the redhead was used to being in a state of colourlessness sight. However, resting was not his objective, and as he watched the less defensible mage once more rush into combat, he too moved forth in a charge. He watched as their aggressor was hit with a body slam, and marvelled at what strength Shanne must have. Most magically focused individuals usually were lacking in the department of strength and constitution, as evidently proven by how little resistance the supposed flamecaster from earlier crumpled when attacked by his ally. Yet such observations could wait till later, such questions could be poised at a better time. Despite Nacht's heavy armor, he seemed to move with ease, his feet amply moving over the stones until he reached the two wrestling. Nacht had always been a man of morality, of kindness when it came to his friends and family, and although he did suffer from issues with violent tendencies, most had never seen him when he was in his state of religious conduct. However, Shanna was going to get the full Nacht experience, as when he reached her, he moved to disarm the mage. He moved almost instinctively, his armored left foot coming forth to kick the man's left wrist harshly, the intent to move the limb upward, before that same metal plated foot came down upon the elbow of the pinned man. No remorse was shown, no thoughts of hesitation nor thoughts of peaceful solution, as down upon the fellows upper are came that of a greataxe. It seemed that Nacht's previous weapon of shapeshifting capabilities had become something intended to break through bone and sever limbs. Arms were, of course, used when any other type of physical focus was not. With the agility of an acrobat, Nacht raised the axe, his knees tensing before he launched himself into the air, managing to get about about a meter of air. Then of course, he came downwards, his plateted feet landing upon the ground with a quite clatter, before the aforementioned process was repeated. Kicked forth, was the right wrist, to get the right arm into position. Down came a boot, down came an axe, and hopefully, off came two arms. Hopefully, a being who had decided that a town of innocents was the perfect place to cause unwarranted corruption and death to occur, was now rendered nothing more than a man with two useless stumps on where his arms once where. During this process, Ewyer did not speak. During this process, Ewyer seemed to show no reaction, and if Shanna were to glance up at the mans face, all she would see is a dull expression, a pale face bordered by red hair. All that was shown upon this face, was sweat, and nothing else that signified any sort of humanity. No notions of victory, no rage, nor any other form of emotion that would would expect a conqueror to have. All that seemed to be displayed was a haunting look of damnation, as if man was doing nothing more than cutting apart livestock, as if he was slaying something he thought of nothing other than an animal.
  7. The man made a noise of irritation, more so a grunt more than any other noise as he heard the nickname attributed to him. Though of course not undeserved, he couldn't find the humor within the statement, and thus reacted poorly too it. This reaction was Ewyer's glare being levied upon that of Asher, as he raised an eyebrow to the man. However, after staring at the man for a few moments, he came to the conclusion that no attempt to tease had been made. Thus, such a prickly reaction was certainly not deserved, he realised, as his features seemed to soften slightly. It was obvious, after only a moment of thinking, that the fellow had been trying to help. A joke very poor in tastes, yet no less of a aid then any other attempt, he supposed. While this "Aid" may have not been brought forth with his best interests in mind, it still . .."benefitted". . .him to take in mind that he was far from alone in his suspicions. Asher was the one who had put forth the thought that started his descent into gloom, after all. Keeping these points in mind he responded, his voice a grumble carried down from the upper branches in which Ewyer sat upon. "Physically, everything appears in order, though sore and a little tired from the Manuel labour- as is to be expected, I assume. Mentally. . .Ehhhh." He wind-milled his right hand, mumbling to himself for a moment before he continued. "Mentally however. . .I'm a bit conflicted. If you couldn't tell from my. . .lack of enthusiasm, your words have stirred in me a feeling of unease. You could say I'm brooding as I ponder my options." His gaze moved from its resting place upon Asher's form, as he once more looked upon the vines that could signify only one woman. "I merely need a battle plan- Devoid of violence of course, tis only a figure of speech-" Deciding no more was needed, he let out a quiet exhale, a huffing noise if you will. With his hands, teeth, and a bit of time, he took his mind off of things, as he loosened and removed the cork of his bottle. Then, he began to drink. Though of course a very bad habit, and one his wife had tried to make him drop more than a handful of times, the so called scholar always feel back to the bottle. It helped numb his mind, loosen his thoughts from their hard on for a successful resolution. His rather unique anatomy, of which had changed quite a bit in all the years he had been alive, had dulled the effect quite severely. Even downing full bottles of liquor seemed to fail in getting him drunk these days. He simply enjoyed the taste of alcohol now, his taste buds having "refined" to come to such a point. "I just simply need to figure out what the future holds. . .Then I'll be able to try and take it." He muttered, before hearing the sound of someone clambering up to meet him. discarding such notions to talk to himself as he usually held, he went rather quiet as he awaited to see whether the newcomer would truly be coming up to him. To say he was unsurprised to see that was the case, was an understatement, as once more he turned his stormy gaze away from its target, and settled his eyes upon the familiar face. Inhaling deeply, he began speaking, before stopping as he noticed the sudden lack of vines, and the sudden appearance of a very noticeable building. Thus, he shut his mouth, and simply raised an eyebrow, before gesturing over to the hospital. He didn't bother to lie, as he simply spoke the truth about what he was currently doing- which is what the girl asked, of course. "Over yonder, the hospital. If you cannot tell, there is a much better view of it from up here. That is the main reason as to why I climbed up here- I enjoy seeing things rather than believing in them." A small smile flickered across his face, almost as if a ghost of a true, genuine grin. "Though of course, that sort of outlook hasn't always worked for me, on many occasions." @Lucinda Valentine @Praetorian
  8. Muttering a curse, Ewyer would stare at the flames of which descend upon them, and then shift his eyes onto Irryn. While they could not be said to be the best of friends, Ewyer was still aware of what his rather plant based buddy was capable of, and what he was not. Standing safe as a blaze descended upon them, was not something that was of the aforementioned capabilities. Letting out an estranged noise of concern, and forgetting his own fickle mortality, the redhead grabbed hold of his friends spear, not bothering to worry about the electricity, as he felt the searing pain of whatever currents would feast upon his flesh as he stupidly took hold of the metal. With a grunt, he would pull upwards, attempting to get the man onto the platform, and simply attempted to rip it from his friends hands and toss it into the pool of unknown gel. Then, as he shot a glance over to the door, and once more to the gel, he made a conscious decision. With a deep inhale, the man leaped forth, off the platform, as another built itself up underneath him, as he forced the rather unwilling substance to his needs. Expecting it to react the same way, he stood upon the platform for but a mere moment, long enough to gain his footing, should it not collapse under his weight, and once more, attempted leap from the solid structure, and repeat his strategy of making platforms. He didn't care as to what happened to them, or what they caused, he simply needed to get to that accursed door before it closed. Of course, while he had the ability to simply desolidfy the platforms, which may have helped the issue, he also had someone who needed them. That person of course, he called back to, his air of professionalism and high class speech fading due to urgency. His voice, a panicked shout, broke slightly halfway through his sentence. It seemed he had gotten rusty and forgotten what it was like to be in mortal danger. He hoped that the man behind him could make it, and he would try his best to be certain of it- even if he had to forget about his own safety. "Irryn hurry the fuck up, we have a door to catch!" @Peter
  9. Quietly, Ewyer breathed a small sigh of relief. To say he was happy that his employer wasn't pissed at him, was an understatement. Though of course, he couldn't help but notice the smile she gives in response is a tad bit forced. However, as she spoke her intentions, as to the horrid book that she appeared to wish for, he couldn't help but feel a pit of unease within himself. From what she spoke, this book appeared to be the same sort of thing that most likely cause this devastation- the very thing that he was against. He felt unease, for even if this woman who appeared to only have the best intentions got hold of it, certainly she had no good intentions for it. He felt as if torn, between what should be done, and what he was being paid to accomplish. At the very end of this train of thought, he decided that if he had the ability, he would try to destroy the book, whether or not he could make it appear like an accident, or if he had to do it blatantly, he wouldn't let the object of which he despised fall into the hands of anyone else. However, not wishing to appear with such intentions, he simply nodded as Shanna suggested their tactics. Simply giving a shrug as to her question, he continued to use his face as a mask of indifference. To voice his disapproval, to even show that something similar to it existed, would be his downfall. As such, he did what he was best at, following orders, and following her was no different than an order. He is simply disgusted by what they find upon entering the square. His teeth grit as he stares at the remains, and in an instant, he slid off his metallic gauntlets, his hands alighting ablaze, flames flowing to become a rather brilliant blue hue. Swinging his hands forth, his very fire seemed to slowly char his hands, the skin burning, as those very hands swept across the poles and whatever remains were still there, the aforementioned items turning to embers as they fell apart and crumbled into dust from the voracious flames. His face, now containing a glare, swept upwards, as it locked onto Shanna. His tone level, his eyes filled with nothing more than an obvious hatred, though not directed at the woman, was expressed visually from his extreme expression. "Be careful that you do not get caught off guard. Do not wander out of sight. I'm sure you know this. I'm sure you know why I still make sure to speak such statements." With the statement, he stood upwards from the kneel he had taken as he set the poles into fiery destruction, of which now they would most likely be nothing but ash. A step back, and a reacquisition, and the man set off on his order, not bothering to utter another word.
  10. Not bothering to check up on his companion of which he had simply knocked out of the way, though her cry of course alarmed him. One more, it played into his worries, his lack of knowledge as to his allies capabilities. However, he made a mental note to check up upon her- should he survive the attack he prepared his body for a mere moment before it occurred. Yet, even as the beast slammed into him, a smile crossed his face as it shrieked in pain. The sound made him overjoyed, though it lasted but a spilt-second. Made all to aware he was, of the claws attempting to rip his flesh apart as if he were a mere children's toy being given to a wild animal. What happens next of course, catches him off guard, as in a quick series of events the foe once mere centimeters from ending him now fallen upon the ground. The smell of charred flesh, one he was so used too, invaded his senses. He stepped back from the burning husk of flesh which attacked him, yet finds himself rather lacking of a sword within his grasp. Unwilling to leave such a friend behind, he let out a huff, and reached his hand out to the body, his eyes glancing upon it until he located a flash of metal, gleaming as flames surrounded it. Flicking his wrist up, the blade seemed to rip itself from the very flesh of the beast, shrinking in size, until a rather unassuming butter knife flew to his palm. As he grabbed his other blade from the ground, a twinge of relief filled his mind. The woman he had so carelessly knocked aside had not only been fine, but fine enough to assist him, almost certainly helping him avoid injury, though he knew such a beast as that wouldn't have been able to kill him, if worse creatures had failed. He turned back to Shanna as he heard her exclaim of surprise, and took the crystal with a confused expression, lifting it upwards as he squinted at it. He had not a clue what it was, and with a dismissive shrug as it its use, simply dropped it into his side bag. Then of course, came his apology. "I understand such was not an action that would usually be acceptable. However I feared for your safety. In truth, I haven't wanted to seem controlling or bossy, but usually I have some understanding as to my allies powersets. I know next to nothing about what you can do, and due to your lack of armor, and my lack of knowledge regarding your constitution, I decided it would be better for me to take the imminent hit. I assure you if circumstances were different I would not have committed such an aggressive act. And very well, I shall take the crystals, I thank you for the added " He nodded his head upon her offer, a grateful expression plastered across his features. He didn't know how he would use these crystals offered however, himself being of rather primitive tech when compared to most others, but still welcomed the supposed gift. In any case, he supposed he would be granted access upon a new learning opportunity. Unlike how he usually was, he attempted to hold a sort of professional tone with the woman, unlike how in most cases he would have told someone saying such things to lighten up. A sort of respect, as she was of course, the person in charge of payment for this quest. Then of course, this moment of gratitude and seeming comradeship came to an end, as Ewyer proceeded to stifle laughter upon Evelynn reappearing and somehow tripping over the grotesque husk upon the ground. "Perhaps be more careful, Miss Nightmoor?" He suggested, a armored hand held over her mouth as he desperately attempted to stay calm and rather unexpressive. "There are lots of very nasty things that like to scurry underfoot. You'd be very good off should you be observant of your surroundings." @Raptor @Evelynn Serana Nightmoor
  11. Unlike what he had hoped for, Ewyer expectation of mind numbing wok failed to became a reality. Perhaps it was his need for internal resolution, his feelings that he must come to a conclusion on where he stood upon the issue of his former "rivalry" with Lucinda, though he still could not picture it as that. Or perhaps that state of being was only helped by his own physical state. True, he was much stronger than a human due to the extraordinary circumstances that lead to his current form, but in his life, physical labour had never been a strong suit. Thus, in his lack of ability, he found himself acting as an assistant on the most part. This job, was far more suited for his skillset. Quick maneuvers about the worksite was his main focus, essentially moving around supplies as he see fit, whether they be the tools used to construct, the items being utilised to make such framework, or simply attempting to aid when he noticed a lack of help for a specific task. This constant state of movement, however, was not nearly enough for him to focus purely on the task at hand. Thus, as to be expected, his thoughts wandered, having been invaded by the statements Asher had made earlier, and had given birth to emotions of which demanded action. They seemingly battled, these feelings, their need for resolution clouding his train of thought, each trying to take hold and decide the final outcome of what he would do. For he knew it, that with this new revelation, that he could not remain idle upon the issue. For so long had he remained contempt to let his relations with Lucinda stagger, to the point where, instead of being good friends as could have been easily accomplished, the man barely even knew her, could hardly even refer to her as an acquaintance. His honour, so relevant so often, boiled up. It tempted him to go for a blunt confrontation, to prove his suspicions true but way of full frontal barrage. The most honest approach, and truly solidify what was truth, and what was fantasy, to see if he had indeed claimed a victory in the supposed contest for his wife's affection. His fear, of simply playing a fool, and accusing a woman who had done him no wrong of such scandalous intent, called for him to simply ignore the issue, to put it out of his path. For, if he were to truly forget about it, none would be harmed. He had won, after all, and thus, to simply confront her about her failure, would just make things worse. Then, came anger, twisted and burning deep within him. For he remembered so many times in which the two, his wife and his "rival" had met up, and though he knew Addison would never dare do anything that would cause a scandal, he was near certain Lucinda, always the flirt, would have tried to make moves upon one who was already claimed. The three emotions, all convoluted with very different outcomes attached, were too simply temporary. For with each of them, came a shred of something that with all three together, formed anew. Determination. Whether it would be good, or whether it would be bad, Ewyer would see the end of it. No doubts would linger upon his mind, as honour called for him to engage. This was no war, there was nothing to fear. He did not depend on Lucinda, and even if word were to get back to his wife, well, he had always been known for being eccentric. He could simply pin it about lack of rest with all the projects he had taken upon himself. Then, his anger. Well, suffice to say, if Lucinda confirmed that his doubts were all too real. . .she would not be spared from his scrutinizing glare, nor would she get the privilege of consequence-less temptations as she would no doubt have been committing beforehand. However, while all this inner arguing and monologuing would have been occurring, the man still managed to carry out work as if he was fine, though to describe his expression, it was clear something was happening with him. Gone was the blank expression, the cloudy eyes filled with nothing more than the dull blue of a sunny sky. Furrows brow, grimly set mouth, and his eyes, so fierce, that a single glare from could could very well have cut through solid steel. If looks were able to kill, his could very well decimate everything that was caught in its path, a instant sweep of pure devastation. As he heard the call for a lunch break, he stopped in his current task, setting down a tool box he had planned to deliver to some needy fellow. Despite his hard work, he didn't bother getting food from his bag, simply two containers. One, most obviously whiskey by its bottle. The other, a canteen, of which he tossed in the direction of Asher, giving the man a single glance as to see where he should throw. Exiting the construction area, he simply climbed as high as he could manage, scrambling up upon a tree as he clambered skywards. Seemingly, the man must have weighed near to nothing, as despite him getting ever higher, the branches beneath him never broke, the weakest merely bending under his lanky and frail looking body. He paid no mind as to the newcomer which seemed to draw the stares of all who saw her, as he merely looked out over the plain, searching for something which he quite quickly found as he gazed upon the roots working as if they were an entire crew. Of course, while he may not have known a lot about Lucinda, he was fully aware of her magical skillset. As such, as he knew where she was, he knew where he was headed to when his work here would be concluded. Though, he wouldn't bother her while she was working, as to get in the way would not help anyone in the slightest. Eventually, however, he knew the time would come when there would be nothing that could stop the confrontation that would take place, of which would be with a distinct lack of subtly that Ewyer could never manage to use, no matter how hard he tried. He would get the answers he yearned for, whether it would bring an end to any form of relations that he and Lucinda had bother to force, or whether it would end in a way he couldn't expect. Resolution, would be obtained. No matter the cost, no matter whose reputation would be cast downwards into either foolishness of uncalled-for assumption, or into dishonour birthed of temptation.
  12. The man once more nodded, eyes rapidly flickering about his surrounding as he unsuccessfully attempted to watch all angles around them. He disliked their situation greatly, due to a lack of everything. The lack of intel of the area, nothing more than what seemed to be stories. There were no average enemy numbers, there was nothing for him to go off of or expect. Thus, his employer's very comment, that being to prepare weapons or spells when he wasn't aware of what to expect, what type of situation to be ready for, agitated him. Contrary to what one would assume, this sort of agitation was good for him. Strong emotions always seemed to interfere with his magic, and though to may have been watered down severely, to him, agitation was just a precursor to rage. In the current situation, his own rage would be useful, obliterating the cover of his enemies which was everywhere in the village it seemed, whether that be buildings, or the very bodies of those who had fallen. All would be set alight in the pursuit of justice, and, compensation in the form of a paycheck. Though, his sense of unease, and of course, his aforementioned agitation, were certainly in no way quelled by his employer. In fact, for her to smile in such a stoic situation, only increased his oncoming anger. It was almost insulting to be comforted in such a way, as if he were nothing more than a spineless child. For he was not afraid within the solid grounds of the city, no far from such a feeble mindset. To him, seeing the death and darkness all around, simply made him want to burn brighter, to consume the empty void of life into a great light, of which befitted the fire that was a certain part of the near future. Then, to make matters even worse, once more came the singing. The infernal noise of taunting, horrid voices joining one another to further set the man into his state of anger, his hair beginning to slowly drift around as aura of heat simply seemed to seep out of him. With the shriek, came the drawing of his secondary blade, which like himself seemed as it could catch alight at seemingly the smallest provocation. He simply wished for a fight, to bright down rightiogeous fury on whatever unfortunate fool were to cross his path. However, hearing the shriek provided hope. Surely such a primal noise couldn't have come from something docile. Thus, as they walked among cold and empty streets, gripping both short swords tightly in his armored hands. Though duel wielding was not his specialty, he simply seemed to be using both in a way of comfort, as if having the ability to swing either blade made him more combat ready. A half-lie, of course, but one he didn't care to acknowledge, at least not yet. And then, much to his joy, and seemingly his companions utter fear, the target appeared. The Shriek, a noise so much closer than what he had heard earlier, though, certainly not different in the slightest, instantly captured his attention. As he pivoted, he gazed upon the creature of nightmares, or so one of inexperience could call the monstrosity of flesh, so horribly twisted from what it may have once been, that it could not be recognized as anything more than a beast. And thus, as Ewyer watched it leap from its perch above, his eyes alit with ecstatic splendor, his body moving forth as he knew that his employer, while quite possibly more than able to defend herself, was nowhere near a shield in which to receive the brunt of such attacks from the creature. However, he also knew that he didn't possess the speed to properly interfere or attack, as only one could be done with full success in mind. With such in mind, he failed to complete either one task or the other, Slamming a metal plated hand into Shanna, hoping to simply slam her out of the way. Continuing on his trajectory, the man continued to swing, dropping the short sword of ornate and fiery design upon the ground, as with both hands he gripped the blade he had held in his hands since the beginning. In whatever few precious seconds he may have had before the hostile creature would reach him, he simply willed. As he had done before, with this sword seemingly so plain and nothing more than steel, he willed it to change. As he would complete his spin, and most certainly be hit by the beast, now standing within its path, his blade would morph, a quiet ringing coming from the metal as it became much longer, much heavier, and oh so much more devastating.
  13. As the situation within the cavern quickly began to escalate, Ewyer noticed the rising liquid. That of course, was alarming, but not in a way which was troublesome for himself. He lifted a foot as it continued to rise, ignoring the screeches and screams of the infantile monstrosities around him. As he booted foot would come down on the liquid, his eyes fueled by magic would seemingly ignite. Like a way to focus his powers, of which he had remembered not to leave unused, the dampness of the liquid was utilised. It began as a single step, embedded within the liquid, then another, to raise him higher, and a third, to get him on top of the pool which was rapidly raising in volume. These little stepping stones would almost immediately return to their original form, however, as no longer were they being forced into a colder state of temperature. Freezing to a solid in an instant, he stepped upon a small platform he had created in a rushed manner, wobbling upon it as he attempted to maintain balance. The platform of frozen gel like liquid grew, to encompass a circular shape of which had a diameter or about a meter. The platform was imperfect, and continuously cracked and reformed under the man's weight, before becoming solid enough to hold him. It was then, however, the redhead noticed that there were far more creatures within the cavern then there were before. Or, he supposed, there were far more now than he had noticed earlier. He rapidly began trying to understand the situation, looking from Cal, who by the look of the axe in the man's hand, and the nearby creature producing the wails, had started the encounter. As he stood upon his heightened post, spikes of frozen fluid formed upon the bottom of the platform, as it became fully structured into a pillar like formation. He had not a clue on what he should be doing, and simply pivoted around, fear in his movements as he slowly began to grasp the very unfortunate situation they were in.
  14. The man grunted at the comment, having assumed such a thing himself. His eyes continued to hold their willful gaze, even though he himself knew that no deity nor place of comfort waited for him should he succumb to death on this voyage. Realistically, he had no gods to pray to, for those which had once been his people's divines no longer existed. As those who had once been his people no longer existed either, nor had they for a long time. Whether or not that would be his fate, no prayers were muttered from his mouth as he watched the woman who was supposedly the supplier of their paychecks for this "adventure." At her question though, he nodded. A simple confirmation, not much else was required. He was most certainly prepared for the oncoming slaughter, even though he expected the lightly armored compatriots to struggle. For even if not the receiver of antagonization, he intended to kill anything that crossed the party's path, whether it be the first or second time said being would have to die. If such were the case, the oncoming combat would certainly be something, and he was worried their group would be prone to disorganization. None the less, he simply took hold of the rope, keeping a tight grip upon it, as splitting up would make them easy prey should any sort of creature rest within the wall of fallen cloud. Whether or not Evelynn or the Black dress wearing women used it as well, he did not wait to find out. Right behind his employer, he advanced, silent minus the quiet clinking of chainmail moving with his footsteps. As they advanced through the aforementioned fog, he noticed the heinous smell of corruption and rot increase in potency, but still gave no sort of reaction, simply taking it at a blunt level. His on-edge state of mind, however, didn't react well to the singing, his jaw setting itself more firmly in place as he grit his teeth, and gripped both hands on the short sword he carried. In almost a blink of an eye, it shifted into a longer formation, and Ewyer simply glanced around, hearing the sounds that no person in this place would be making. For none within the confines of a place so tainted by filth, the very town itself as corrupted and rotten as those bodies, could possibly find it time to practice the vocal arts unless they themselves carried the corruption. ". . .Shall we move to the square then? It's too late to get cold feet, I'm afraid. This is an intimidation tactic, most likely - to flee would almost certainly lead us into the jaws of death, and even if it did not, to allow these heretics to live is a crime onto itself. I wouldn't be surprised if they're moving all around us, unseen and with a severe lack of mercy on their minds." He said, disgust flowing out of every word he spoke regarding those he assumed lied within the village's borders. At the same time, old militaristic instincts wedged their way into his thoughts, remnants of a time when he belonged to a single creed. @Raptor
  • Create New...