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Post by KiddoFreak on Jun 20, 2005 2:48:55 GMT -5
Kearn's runes noticed the trick just after his eyes. They shimmered as his body backflipped, dodging the blow. Kearn landed in a defensive position, making it clear that he would evade attacks as long as possible. After all, The boy had never intended to kill the man in the first place. Reaching out with one open hand, a half-filled wine goblet exploded in unison with the lighting of an invisible rune on the rune-artist's hand. Keeping a close eye on his advirsary, Kearn feigned a childish delight in staining the vestments of a foe.
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Post by Niccolo on Jun 20, 2005 11:11:29 GMT -5
Iager didn't even lose a beat. He moved forward, swinging his upper body as he did. The effect was a 15 foot wide circle of death, attacking all three fighters at once as he waded into their midst.
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Post by Lobstrosity on Jun 20, 2005 11:33:10 GMT -5
Drake ducked down to avoid the swinging chain, then circled around to attack his foe from behind.
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Post by Niccolo on Jun 20, 2005 20:31:26 GMT -5
Iager noticed the guard duck in the corner of his eye, then disengaged from combat with the two others to backflip over the man's head, snaring the sword in his chain as he flew. He flicked the chain as he landed, and the sword flew some ten feet, sticking into a table. He then swung the chain at the disarmed man's head, coming from both directions at once.
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Post by Lobstrosity on Jun 20, 2005 21:04:31 GMT -5
Drake ducked the chain easily, and in the same motion he swung his leg outward to trip the man as the chain sailed overhead.
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Post by Niccolo on Jun 20, 2005 21:24:41 GMT -5
Iager used a small hop to dogde the kick, then brought both ends down vertically at drake.
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Post by Lobstrosity on Jun 20, 2005 22:01:54 GMT -5
The former guard dropped and rolled to evade the attack, then quickly stood and retreated to the table to get his sword back, leaving the others to deal with the enemy for a moment.
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Post by KiddoFreak on Jun 20, 2005 22:34:36 GMT -5
As his advirsary had his back turned, Kearn willed his runes all the power his small body could unleash. With ferocious speed and agility, the boy rammed into the fighter with his feet, kicking with all of his strength on impact.
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Post by Niccolo on Jun 20, 2005 22:45:18 GMT -5
Iager flew clear over drake, recovered mid-air, and turned. He winced from the pain seething through his back, but he'd live.
"Hah...cough...is that the best you can do?" he sneered at Kearn. He then stood upright, and flung one end of the chain whizzing past Kearn's head. As soon as it passed, he yanked back on it, the spikes threatening to snare Kearn by the back of the head.
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Post by KiddoFreak on Jun 21, 2005 0:18:37 GMT -5
With the same speed as before, Kearn once more rushed forward, though at the same time he dove down to dodge the chain, allowing its tradjectory to remain the same. Sensing that the chain would not hit its wielder, the boy did a short spin, attempting to trip the fighter.
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Post by KiddoFreak on Jun 21, 2005 2:56:51 GMT -5
The misinterpretations of the gods did not begin recently. The tales of their exploits are those of heroics, those of villiany, treachery, glory, blood, unity, and conflict. It seems that each will have their own ideas in the telling of the old legends. The most commonly accepted legend, though, comes from a time when the strongest fighter was the strongest leader, a time of and old Yrimmuas. The telling is that of not only four heros, but the beliefs of nations. Few have heard an untainted version of such a tale, though almost all residents of Yrimmuas know the story. Often times, priests tell the legend with a little twist of their own, making its representative seem a little greater than the others. All bias aside, the story often begins in much the same way. It all begins one crisp morning, very long ago in the volcanic mountains of northern Yrimmuas. A child was found sitting on the steps of a local monestary of a now-forgotten farming village. They say that every morning he offered to carry an old woman's water buckets for her to the well and back to her home. In his innocence, the child never once asked for reward, never once did he question his motives. He simply helped the woman every morning. They say that as the boy grew older, he began working as a harvester for a local farmer. Each day he would wake up, do what was asked of him and then some more. Once more, he never asked for anything more than a place to stay and a bite of food each morning. He never noticed the deceptive ways of man, he never questioned his motives, he simply worked. He bagan to collect fruit from orchards for the townspeople, running odd errands for elderly folk. Anything he could do, it seemed, he did. As he became a man, people say that he began his own set of crops and all by himself, he would plant and water and harvest his own fields. His abilities became wondrous, they say he was able to sow a whole field in a morning, and plant the entire crop by night. Never did he learn of money, never did he brag of his accomplishments. Storytellers say that this was how he became strong, simply by unwavering kindness. He gained the name "One of Fire", because he steadily burned like a flame in his work. Although he fit in perfectly with the town, another could never belong. In this western coastlands of Yrimmuas, they say, there was born a boy to a vastly different parents. They say his mother was nobility and his father was nothing more than a lowly merchant: an illigitmate child in a torn world. He was raised in royalty, but he always kept close watch on the more common rabble of the town. Although he never learned of his father, he always watched the man through his bedroom window, peddling his wares to the other peasants on the dirty streets. Each morning, the child saw the man die a little more, his soul floating a little farther away. As the boy grew older, he noticed that as the man became more and more desperate for money, the more the man would sell. The boy could not stand to see the man selling off his clothes, his food, his very life. One morning, the boy noticed that the man was sobbing, peddling off the last of his possessions: an ornate knife... carved into it was the boy's royal sign. In a storm, the boy rushed out to the man, talking to him for the first time, demanding to know how the merchant had obtained the weapon. He explained it was the last remainder he had of his son, he had never seen him, but the mother had given him the blade after birth. Although the boy did not beleive the man, he took pity, and gave the man much more gold than the knife was worth; after that, he left back to his room. After a very short time, the boy noticed that the man had left the streets, confused, the boy began to pay more attention to his royal duties in the time that he used to watch the man. Shortly thereafter. There was a story of a man that could give peasants free food with the astounding profits made off of his shop. In extreme curiosity, the boy left to examine the man. To his wonder, it was the same man as before. He was able to become powerful because of a simple transaction. Soon, the peasants loved this merchant more than the royalty, and in time, the king was forgotten. There was a new royal king, formed from a lowly merchant. He, in turn, became poor, and was forced to live on the streets. He was torn, his wealth had made him poor. Taking nothing but his knife, the boy fled his former life - never taking status... power for granted again. He ran to the north, his travels teaching him many things. His most important lesson was that power is a temporary thing. Storytellers say that is how he became strong: by keeping himself from power, he remained powerful. He gained the name "One of Water", because his alliegences were inconstant, he was forever flowing like water. His wisdom took him far, his wisdom grew with his age. One of the places he traveled was a now-forgotten town in the volcanic mountains of the North. One man there tried to soothe his conflict by letting him stay on his farm, though the man could never remain in one place for long. The other man decided he would leave, traveling with this other until he could find a way to help him. As was told here, prosperity is not always found. More often, a story of vengence finds one with much more ease. In the blustery flatlands of southern Yrimmuas, there lived a girl with a happy family. She was always a little mischevious, loving to sneak up on friends in the dark of night. Her attitude kept her from ever studying one thing for too long. Her mother tried teaching her to sow, to cook, to garden. Her father tried teaching her to fish, how to hunt, how to fend for herself. She always gave up eventually, only one thing held her interest. Her brother was equally mischevious, and they would often trick each other to the point of anger; heckle each other to the point of anger, anger each other to the point of fighting. The girl never could accept losing, and constantly strove to defeat her siblings in a fight. If brother became stronger, she would train to be stronger. If he learned a new technique, she would make a better one. When he would become faster, she would train herself to be faster. Soon, the rest of the boys in the town began to line up to fight the amazing girl. If she ever lost, she would simply become better; they say she never lost to the same person twice. One learns, eventually, that there is always someone stronger. The girl learned this as she was reaching womanhood. One morning, she awoke to the sound of screaming, the sight of fire, the smell of blood. A raving horde of barbarions was in the process of pillaging her town. With a roar, she charged from her room to find her brother. He was impaled on the end of a sword, a sword in the arms of a hulking man. Her mother was lying, in two, on the floor of her hut. Her father's head in the hands of an exeptionally strong-looking man with an equally enourmous battle ax. In a fury, the woman dove at the man who had killed her brother, grabbing his sword and beheading the man with only a few quick motions. No sooner than the first had fallen, she rushed at the bigger man with the ax. Despite her best efforts, she could not damage the man. The ax-wielder forced her to the street where he called more men to him. Before she could be overcome, she dove at the man once more. They say she scarred his face before his mighty ax fell upon her right shoulder. Her arm fell, completely severed, to the ground. She fell to the ground, her conciousness fading with each throb of pain. The men left her for dead, which she almost was before two travelers found her, bandaged her shoulder, and nursed her back to health. They say that her first words when she awoke was a promise that she would find the man. She agreed to travel with the other men, she had to become better. With training, she was able to use weapons with only her left arm, they say she favored using a claymore in almost all situations: it was the sword that killed her borther, a constant reminder of her weakness. Storytellers say that that is how she became strong, her devotion to making herself better was unmatched by any. After all, she never lost to the same person twice. They gave her the name "One of Wind" because she was as swift and powerful as a tornado. Where some seek to make themselves better, others strive to maintain a balance. Deep in the great forrests of eastern Yrimmuas, there was born a child unnatural strength. His parents held a strange and powerful conviction when it came to the issue of 'balance'. His first teachings of the world always told him to seek a balance in all things, that nature made all thigs balanced, even if it was hard to see its wisdom at times. His parents always told him to seek a balance in all things, or create one if he had the ability. This he did, with extraordinary conviction. If someone became rich, he would steal from them and give it to someone a little poorer. If a friend became strong, he would find another who could match him with wits. If a council member became too powerful, he would spy on them and give the information to a weaker member. This earned him mixed reputations throughout the town, some found him to be a saint, others found him to be a sinner. For years, he simply saught balance, confused at his sister's lack of commitment to the cause. As he was growing into a man, he came to learn that his mother was pregnant with another child. For the months leading up to its birth, he would ponder how another child would bring a balance. Only on the day of birth did he learn how he could bring a balance to things. The baby was a girl, this told him what he needed to know. He was getting to be older, his sister was but a little older than himself. She was almost ready to set out on her own, it would only be another year or so when she would leave. The man discovered that his parents must have wanted there to be a balance of old and young, and it must remain in balance of one boy and one girl. With this in mind, he found his older sister one morning, and strangled her to death, eagerly awaiting his parents praise. He was horribly confused when the town banished him for life. Had he not set the balance? Had he not done what his parents had asked of him? He left the night of his sentence with three travelers, forever bringing balance to the world. Storytellers say that that is what made him strong, his undying conviction to balance, no matter what the cost; he knew that everything had its place and he saught to keep things in a balance. That is how he gained the name "One of Earth", he saught a balance like nature, even though his wisdom was not easily seen by all. So the group of fighters was formed. There was the burning paladin, one that saught to always help others with no regard for himself. There was the sage who always looked at things without bias. There was the warrior who could never be bested in arms combat. There was the unwavering avenger, forever keeping things in their proper places. Alone, these fighters were great, but together they were unstoppable. Together they traveled the lands of Yrimmuas, each leaving their marks; each creating a following of those who beleived in their truths. The legends say that they were never bested when they were together, that they were almost immortal. This strength and infamy was created through many works that most deem heroic. This branded them as heros of Yrimmuas. That is why storytellers wonder what happened to the adventurers, they say they simply vanished one day. For a very long time, they were unheard of. That is, until they returned as gods. No one is exactly sure how it happened, but many believe that they were so steadfast in their beliefs that they simply became divine beings. Soon after, huge followings were created, religions formed around them, temples erected in the god's honor. Their own strengths were preached as truths, ways of life. The most devout followers began to feel magic flowing through them. This magic often matched the name of the one they followed, be it the aiding fire magic, shifting water magic, or balancing earth magic. Wind magic was a little different, they say that the followers of the wind gain supernatural speed, strength, and weapon prowess, though their magic skills are often extremely limited. This is the legend of origin, the only legend that is readily beleived in by most of the lands. Though, it seems, that many lifestyles can never be lived as one. The truths of the gods created great competition between the religions, great arguments and political struggles ravaged the lands. That was when the Tribunal was formed, it was meant to keep any major wars from starting. The demi-gods did little to help this; they often were so devout in the teachings that they would cause riots among others. The teachings began to be interpreted in strange ways, new gods appearing with new ideas. More and more tension began to build. The pressure was immense upon the lands. Yrimmuas cannot contain it for long...
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Post by Niccolo on Jun 21, 2005 12:47:27 GMT -5
Iager chuckled. The guard had tried this before, and now the boy. It was time to teach them the fault of repetition. He jumped high, dodging the trip attack, snaring Kearn's leg with the chain mid-air. As he landed, he flung the boy with the chain, sending him flying across the room.
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Post by Lobstrosity on Jun 21, 2005 18:20:14 GMT -5
Before his foe regained his balance, Drake dropped his sword that he had recovered and grabbed both of the wind follower's arms with one of his, pulled him dtowards himself, and in the same motion used his free arm to punch the evil man in the face.
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Post by Niccolo on Jun 21, 2005 19:38:49 GMT -5
There was a sharp crack, and Iager's nose began to bleed, and in response, he flipped out his (repaired) knife boot and thrust it into drake's chest. He then used this to get away. Dropping his chain on the floor, he jmped upon a table and beganto fling scores of shurikien at his assailants, the other hand holding one of his katanas.
(now that's what I call armed to the teeth!)
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Post by Lobstrosity on Jun 21, 2005 20:10:11 GMT -5
((How the hell did you manage that? Whatever...))
Drake evaded the shurikens as best he could before checking the extent of the damage caused by the hidden boot blade. The wound was not to deep and did not appear to have hit any vital organs.
The pain however slowed him down. He paused with his sword ready in a defensive position as he regained his will to fight.
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