Jump to content
Valucre

Lord Satin

Members
  • Content count

    993
  • Joined

  • Last visited

About Lord Satin

  • Rank
    Former Outreach
  • Birthday 06/03/1996

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Firing Pin
  • Location
    The Retreat
  • Interests
    Writing.
    Philosophy.
    DIY engineering.
    Mathematics.
    Paradoxes.
    Acting like an intellectual when I know I'm not.
  • Occupation
    Student

Recent Profile Visitors

2,770 profile views
  1. Beelzebub versus Lord Satin

    With his yield betrayed, Murchad looked upon his foe in horror. He had been quite accustomed to the art of fencing, and yet it seemed that fencing would do him little good, as a great ravine opened beneath him. How regrettable now that he did not before indulge in miracles and other such forms of magic. He did all that was in his power to avoid certain defeat, and as the challenger ran towards him with unnatural speed, the knight rolled to his right, escaping both the chasm and his opponent's strike. Now, however, as molten rock spiraled around Murchad furiously, it seemed a fool's hope to escape unscathed. And so, before he could be cooked alive, he covered his face and dashed through the wall of flame. His clothes were scorched and his armor burned hot, and his noble hat caught ablaze. He threw it off and fell to the ground in anguish, his face still unharmed. Murchad tried to rise once more, some strength yet left within him, though shaken and weary. "Need you prolong this suffering? I cannot best you in single combat. I would, however, have you help me reclaim the halls of our Count, and rebuild the flourishing County of Rhodos. Would you accompany me, great warrior? I would bestow upon you good lands and the title of Baron, as my father's rightful successor."
  2. Beelzebub versus Lord Satin

    Note: Sorry for taking so long. Been quite busy. Murchad looked upon the shadow with concern. After all, he had been armed with nothing more than a cloak and rapier, and there was little he could do against a greatsword. Even having drawn his parrying dagger, now holding it tightly in his left hand, he had little hope of outmatching this foe, for the difference in range was vast. As the blade fell upon him, the knight took a step to the side and instinctively threw up his left hand in defense. His instincts had failed him, however, as the dagger was captured and flung out of his hand. Better, perhaps, than receiving a direct blow, yet a failed exchange nonetheless. It seemed that Murchad would yield or walk away wounded, and so he looked upon the demon and said, "I cannot best you or your puppet. I have been trained in the arts of the blade, and I have beaten many foes, even those who outmatched me. This battle, however, is beyond my set of skills, for no knight may defeat a blade of such proportions with nothing more than a thrusting sword in hand. And so I yield to you, my friend, to keep my honor unstained and my flesh unburnt. I thank you."
  3. Lyric Talk -- Literally

    On Thursday I rode home with pride, thoughts upon my new, unfinished song, a small, beige dog resting by my side, all of my ideas were just plain fucking wrong.
  4. Why do you write?

    Mostly because it's just a part of me now. I've been writing for a good while, and being "the guy who knows how to write" has become a solid part of my character. It's a skill like any other, and I write to keep up and improve my skill.
  5. Beelzebub versus Lord Satin

    Note: Sorry it took me so damn long. I was sick. As a side note, Murchad's using a fencing style known as "Cloak & Rapier," just a fun fact and to clear up some potential vagueness in my posts. As the beast lunged towards Murchad's sword, fierce and strong, the knight wavered not. He flung his cloak at its gaping maw whilst maintaining a steady grip, the blade of his weapon escaping by little more than an inch. It was clear that in order to emerge victorious, he would have to devise a new strategy, for he had never before fought a creature of such strange proportions. He was forced to fight a defensive battle, if only to observe his opponent's fearsome attacks for a little while longer. Fazed, but not stunned, he leapt back four paces, right foot forward, sword at the ready, pointed towards his foe. Would he be met with another lunge, he'd be better prepared.
  6. Beelzebub versus Lord Satin

    "I am Sir Murchad, son of Donnchad, once a landed knight under the great Count Jeoran of House Rhodos, which now lies in ruin." the knight said proudly. "My esteemed dynasty once held much prestige, though it has fallen into disgrace, and I am its last living heir." he shuffled in place, tone now drowning in melancholy. Indeed, to lose one's family, to bear the burden of a dishonored name; a great curse it was. "My father died defending our liege's throne, as did his brothers, and my sister with them. They all fell on that terrible day, all but me. Me and the Great Count Jeoran, whom I ride to find, to take back our home and avenge the fallen. I fear, however, that no man stands who felled my kin, and no revenge can be had. That is where I stand." he paused, looking up at the sky above, lit with stars. "It seems, however, that both our causes are noble. Perhaps we may test the skills of the other? A friendly fight, perhaps?" Murchad gazed upon the creature where it stood, its inky eyes radiating power. He tightened his grip, pointing the sword forward.
  7. Videos worth watching!

  8. Beelzebub versus Lord Satin

    And there, along the cobbled road, in the fading light of dusk, with haste and vigor rode the young Sir Murchad upon his steadfast chestnut steed. He rode for days on end, traveling the lands, searching for wealth, power and comfort, treasures of old and stones yet unturned. There was little comfort in the life of a knight, however, besides perhaps the comfort from a quelled foe or a good challenge, neither of which he got to feel in an extraordinarily long period of time. Perhaps, with hope, tonight would be different! As he reached the tavern, its fame infinite and reputation greater yet, he took notice of a rather odd character standing beside the crossroad. Their gazes met. With swift elegance, Sir Murchad leapt off his mount and soon stood face to face with the curious thing. His sword, though small and sharp, glimmered gently in the tavern's dimming lights, hilt concealed by a simple black cloak. The knight stood tall and upright, palm rested upon his sword. "Forgive me if I offend, though I must ask for my own sake, are you friend or foe? And what seek you in these lands during such late hours? No mischief or any such wretched things, I'd hope?"
  9. Got it. I'll reply tomorrow.
  10. Sure, send me the link when you do.
  11. Alright. Since I'm very much into historical fencing, let's make it a melee spar.
  12. Dunno. What suits you best? We can make a thread once I think up a character. Will it be a standard melee (WMA/EMA) spar or is magic a thing too? Because I'll either make a standard knight-like character or a supernatural character depending upon the context.
  13. Shall I recite the satanic statements? I greet you, Beelzebub, Lord of the Creeping Things, Duke of Flies, and sincerely welcome you to our domain. Beelzebub, fallen angel, hail the cross in its holiest of forms, and hail the pentagram. Hail God and hail Satan, hail good and evil, for one could not be without the other! May Baphomet be ever at your side, and may the cross bring you good fortune. Wanna spar? I'm up.
  14. Pictures of Us

    I shot the aforementioned SVD, a Model 16 (and that thing is a bitch to reload. Russian guns were far easier), H&K MP5, G3, AK-74/AKM, AK-74L (or somethink), plenty of 9mm, .45 and one .44MG pistol. Also shot a pump shotgun, the model of which I don't know. I might have left out something. I hope not. All of the weapons, except for the MP5, kicked a whole lot. The Dragunov rifle really was the worst though, I agree. That, and the optics are so awful that I couldn't land many shots. Even iron sights were better.
  15. A Hunt for Slaves

    It is a problem. It's always been a problem. I mean, I'll be honest. Life's not worth living like this. It just isn't. Sure, you can always compensate with other things, but to what degree? If you're hideous, you might as well give up on life. So yeah, I'm sorry. I'll have to step away for some time. Until I mend myself again.
×