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About ShadowStrykes

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  • Birthday 10/20/1994

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  1. "I was the one that signed up for it first. I'll spare your familiar the hassle. Reinhardt, you know what to do." With that the ferret crawled off its perch on Don's shoulder and crawled into the cave, moments later there is a ruckus and the lithe animal scurried back to its owner. "Good boy," Don said, scratching Reinhardt just behind the ears. "Let's go." He and the others made their way to the cave entrance quietly, pots and spears and assorted things lying strewn about the ground. Don smiled at his clever pet satisfied with it's handiwork.
  2. Don saw the torchlight flickering from the cave's entrance just ahead. "What amateurs," he thought. No self-respecting thieves would leave their headquarters so vulnerable and obvious. Unless...The message the peon was trying to send to the Seer...was this a trap? They would need to stay alive long enough to take her out, then, hopefully that would dishearten the others to the point that they could be taken down without much hassle. But they would need the Metas tactical reasoning and strength, the mage's magic, and the boy's streetwise ways. As for himself, he would use his full knowledge of weaponry, as well as his prowess and agility to take out the lowest members first. He didn't want to draw too much attention to himself.
  3. Don realized there was more death ahead. There was likely no way they could bring the bandits in peacefully. Blood would have to be spilled before any of them would give up peacefully. This was nothing compared to what he did to that poor bandit. His nephilim origins allowed him to do....things...with mortal souls. What exactly those things entailed, he'd rather not dwell on. Something about "burning the person's inner being, leaving behind an empty vessel and erasing their souls from existence." At least according to his mentor. He knew that Hell was bad, but he reckoned oblivion was a fate worse yet. Killing he had no problem with though. Sometimes for the greater good, sacrifices must be made. At least these souls would go to where they belong; at least then they would continue to exist. Don walked about mid-stride with the group, trying not to draw any more attention to himself. If the others knew what he was....what he'd done...that would be it. They would burn him at the stake. They'd sink him in water. They'd torture him until he broke and confessed his sins, and then, and only then, would they give him the peace of death. But even in death, would he have peace? He didn't know what became of a bastard's soul after the mortal vessel passed. He knew Heaven would turn him away, and he doubted Hell wanted any souls other than the utterly damned amongst its ranks. Just as on the mortal plane, so on the other side--he's an outcast now, and would be then. He turned his attention to the man who they called Leo, who had now began to speak of his plan in depth.
  4. "They are in the woods to the east. We should arrive at sundown. Perfect timing for an ambush assault." Don was eager to turn from the bandit's now soul-scorched vessel. He couldn't bear to think he might be headed down that path again. He thought back to the young girl, so innocent. She didn't deserve what happened. Shaking his head clear, he started toward the dense forest. He checked to make sure his daggers were at the ready and that their vials were still loaded with enough basilisk venom. He wouldn't get by on magic. That wasn't his specialty. What he did to the ruffian back there...as horrible as it was, it was a mere parlor trick he'd learned a long time ago.
  5. I'm already making so many friends and I'm having so much fun on my first ToL quest. I can hardly wait for more exciting adventures!

    1. Mickey Flash

      Mickey Flash

      That's great!  Glad you like it here.  :smile:

  6. My character is a rogue/marksman/adventurer type. He is of human, Elven, and Nephilim descent. For those of you who don't know, a Nephilim is the offspring of a fallen angel (not a demon) and a mortal, namely human, but in this case, Elf. His father is fully human and as such, Don can be harmed, as a weakness on his fathers side. He is gifted with eternal youth and intuitive, even telepathic powers. He dabbles in magic, but is sort of a greenhorn, so he can only do rudimentary stuff for now. No walls of fire or anything. His weakness is his inner darkness that he battles constantly, especially his past transgressions, his need for redemption in the eyes of his God, which can cloud his judgement, his ability to be wounded or incapacitated, possibly even killed, given the severity of the injury and the means of infliction, and lastly, certain, but not all holy relics. Strengths include a direct line to his God, giving him almost cleric-like abilities, his telepathy and intuition, his cleverness, his general rogue abilities, and his charm. He is also gay, and quite the player.
  7. Don knew that the men were stubborn and prideful, but he underestimated just how much. A better plan? Did they forget he allowed them to accompany him? He was the first one to take up the mission. They just happened to be at the right place at the right time. "Never mind them," he thought to himself. He knew how these pureblood mortals could be. Always putting their individual needs above the well-being of the many. He would not stoop to their level. He decided to play along, for now at least, but he would have a word with these rambunctious cohorts later. At the present moment, he had a bandit to interrogate. He approached the bandit and told him to relax, as hard as that was with his oxygen being cut off aggressively. If the man resisted, he could become an invalid. Telepathic extractions are not something to play with, but his hands were tied at this point. He placed his hands on the head of the bandit and focused his energy on the information he sought, namely the whereabouts of the hideout. "Its in the woods east of here. About a quarter of a mile away." He opened his eyes with a flash, his irises glowing crimson. The bandit went limp, eyes white and empty as a dead man's. Seeing the look of shock on his comrades faces, he stated,"Don't mind him. He was trying to inform the Seer. He's not dead, but with what I've done, he might have been better off if he were." He didn't feel proud of what he'd done. It had been years since he did anything so morally ambiguous, but it was for the good of the community. These guys were no good, and he knew that.
  8. "Be careful elder. This bag is set to detonate as soon as it gets to the hideout. I put a Scoping spell on it so I can see where it is at, at any given moment. But the contents are still very volatile. If, God forbid, you should slip...well,I don't want to be held responsible." With that, Don hesitantly strapped the bag to the man's walking stick. He looked him over carefully, examining his composure with not a little concern. "You are quite brave volunteering to be targeted. These are not run of the mill criminals. I can sense danger in them, a darkness in their souls. They are part of something bigger. My instinct never lies." The young rogue covered himself in oil from a flask. "This should hide most traces of me, including my scent and my aura. There are fifteen in total. The first one, the one you will be meeting, is just a peon. He is mostly unskilled, but should still be approached with caution. They also have a Seer and guard animals. My sixth sense doesn't allow for specifics, so that is all I could gather. The Seer most likely has her own, more powerful magical guardians, as well as some magic bastions. Getting to her will be a whole other challenge. I will follow you in the shadows." Turning to the others he said sternly, "Wait here for my signal. I'll send this little guy to alert you to move forward." Don lifted up his pet ferret and gently nuzzled his cheek. "When we attack, we have a slight advantage. The explosion isn't powerful, but it should debilitate two or three nearby foes, at least for a short while. It also will create a brief smoke screen, and I do mean brief, as in a minute or two maximum. Now, everyone hide. I know for a fact the bandit is headed this way."
  9. Don wandered down the darkened street, just around twilight. He carried with him, a bag of "gold" as bait, knowing how a bandit's mind works, being an ex-thief himself. He overheard some of the other bar attendees showing an interest in the quest, and figured it'd be just a matter of time before they showed up. He was more of a loner, but as long as he got a good payout, he was willing to play nice with the other adventurers. @Leaderofthemile @Xeon @TheRudeSandstorm
  10. its actually a whole gang of about 12 bandits, but sure, ill send you the link too.
  11. The young man turned as the man named Zell's predicament piqued his interest, so he continued to eavesdrop, until he heard him ask for young talent, knowing he was definitely the man for the job. Sauntering up to the distressed patron, he sat down. "The name is Don Finore, of The Silver Fang Crusaders of Lesser Genesaris. My party are skilled mercenaries with a variety of skill types, both magical and mundane, if you can really call what we do mundane. I, myself am a mutt in every sense of the word. My father was human, while my mother was half Nephilim, half Elf. I am a rogue adventurer, with skills in marksmenship. I also am silver-tongued like the Devil and can talk my way into, or out of any situation. That said, I think my group are just the talent you seek."
  12. when i get the link, ill pm it to you. A;sp. you may want to read more about the quest on the quest bulletin board as well as my conversation with Zell in the ToL season 2 forum thread.
  13. I am looking for people interested in helping me on the Roundup quest, which is a level one quest. The more participants, the fewer posts needed by each participant. It is a level one, so 15 posts total are needed, each post being AT LEAST 75 words.
  14. Seeing as the bartender was preoccupied, the young red-cloaked man abandoned his question, downed his ale, and turned his attention to the sparring match. He silently wondered how he would fare against some of these patrons, or even the bouncer. "Perhaps I will take on the winner." He declared to the sleeping drunkard beside him, nudging him slightly, before noticing the old man was unresponsive, which turned his eager smile into a look of indignant disbelief.
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