[RP] The Three Phases of Saggi Lezeheso

[Duraza]

The Secret in Oja

There was a battle going on just outside the city, a fight between the people and a group of invaders who wanted to take the city of Ojaveda. Within the streets were bare, excluding two men, a menki in normal clothes with a claymore on his back, and a diabolo in dark robes carrying a staff and a black book. They wandered the town till they found a place out of sight, even though the city was deserted.

"Coneitic," Duraza said to the menki, "It is of the upmost importance that this remain hidden here. It is a special tome that I don't want my enemies to find. I'm trusting you to follow my instructions to the letter about hiding it."

Coneitic nodded, that usual arrogant smirk on his face, "Don't worry, don't worry. I'll have this done for you easy."

"Be quick about it," Duraza muttered. "I've no idea how long that battle outside will last but it can't be long. No doubt the people will soon crush their opposition and we don't want to be in this town when they enter it...If we have to be at least spare me the trouble of anyone finding my book. Hopefully this will be its home until I return for it." He handed Coneitic the book, waving his hand in a hurried motion, "Get on with it, go go. You've not got even seconds to spare."

Coneitic gave another nod and ran off with the book, leaving Duraza alone....

Drinking his last pouch of water as this ynnwn put his blade within its sheath he walked up to the gates of Ojaveda, towards the guards. He wore long red robes with golden stitching, a hood falling over his head. As he walked through the gates the guards gave their usual greeting. He only nodded back before continuing on inside.

Walking into the tavern the ynnwn went towards the counter, handing bartender a few coins, "Water." When the tender raised a brow he added, "Please." The menki then nodded, handing him a pouch which he greedily drank.

"Not just a bit hot for you wearing that hood and all," the bartender questioned.

To this the ynnwn gave a small nod and smile, lifting up his hand and giving his hood a small tug so that it would fall lightly to his back. He had the same relaxed green eyes as he always did, not seeking an answer or searching for anything past the happiness he seemed to display.

"You're right," said Saggi. "It is a bit hot."

[More to come on this. Just an opening.]

[garoninja]

O.o i didnt finish reading it, but nice work. Be warned though, we have some new heros.

[Skrein]

[That's fine, because these events are triggering the return of old villains. Beware.]

[Duraza]

[I do apologize for all those involved or interested in participating in my RP and the long break there has been in posts. School has been taking up a majority of my time. Don't worry though, an end to my grief is in sight, there should be more activity this weekend and the weeks afterwards.]

[Garomort]

O.o i didnt finish reading it, but nice work. Be warned though, we have some new heros.

*sniggers* 

[Duraza]

[I do apologize to all those who were interested in this RP. Seems I don't have the time to give to it that I was hoping so the RP is definitely cancelled. Or at least postponed indefinitely. Possibly if I ever get the time I'll post the story that was to be or maybe I'll eventually have the time to actually run the RP.

Thanks for the interest shown.]

[Duraza]

The Secret in Oja: Part Two

After Coneitic ran off Duraza stood alone in the shadows, waiting till his ally was out of sight. Then he sprinted off in the opposite direction, his staff tapping the floor and steadying his movements through the city. He approached a group of old tattered tents, groups of enkidukai standing around them or warming themselves by campfires. Slowing himself down and striding past them he drew the wary eyes of many but the diabolo ignored them all, weaving his way through the groups and arriving at a small tent a little left of the center. With his staff he pushed the tarp aside and stepped in, letting if fall closed behind him.

Inside was dank and dark, a few splotches of crimson blood on the floor and tent walls. A few shelves were stocked with exotic herbs, strange looking weapons. Most noticeable of all were two tables, taking up a majority of the floor space, on top of them the stinking corpses of two men long dead. Duraza approached them, hand moving to touch the one closest to him when a pale white hand slapped his own away.

"Now now now Darkom," said the voice of an old, boney lemur. His face drew into a wide wrinkled smile, showing the many holes in his mouth where teeth were no more, "You can't just expect me to step aside before we've discussed the matter of my payment."

With a frown and a dismissive wave of his hand Duraza stepped forward to the corpse in front again, "Relax. You'll have all the tria you desire... But at the moment the time is running out. The Lords," he said with distaste, "can hold for long but they will no doubt be unable to hold their position forever. Go and fetch Coneitic for me. I've no doubt we will have to escape the city before all those damned menki decide to celebrate only to see me. We've never been very fond of each other."

The lemur just nodded, smile still on his face as he limped out of the tent, "Very well. Remember, you only payed for one of those... That's all you get."

"Right," Duraza muttered before starting his work. From the shelf of weapons he picked up a dagger, curved a little to far to the left to pierce very well unless wielded like a hook. The diabolo shook his head as he glanced over some of the other weapons, each strangely changed in model, "Pieces of ineffective rubbish. Regardless I suppose at least this is pointed." He placed his staff against the other table, allowing it to lean there while he slowly made his first incision. It was not deep nor very noticeable on the corpse but he etched a line from the body's shoulder-blade all the way way to its palm, cutting through dead muscle and nerve, bodily fluid spilling.

Duraza's next cut was one that slashed off every finger, placing all five aside as long rotten blood started to pour all over his hand. Moving to make his next cut the blood made his grip slippery, accidentally cutting himself. As the dagger pierced Duraza released a string of swears, placing the dagger down and looking over the self-inflicted wound. "Hrm, I'll survive," he said to himself after calming down. With his other arm he ripped his robe from the bottom, taking the piece of black cloth and wrapping it around his own hand. Then, picking up the dagger he got work again.

When he finished the arm there was a series of cuts forming strange symbols on either side of the central line. Satisfied he carefully repeated the process on the other arm, cutting off fingers and all. After finishing Duraza moved the blade down to the hips, raising it high, assuring himself of his grip before striking down right at the bone. Six times he removed the blade from the flesh and pierced it in again, six times before the bone shattered. He did so to the center and left side of the body as well, till sure that the hip was in pieces. Then came the dirty work of cutting. For this he went back to the shelf, picking a weapon with a larger blade before using it to hack at the hip.

Four hard downward slashes before he was able to tear the torso away from the legs and hip. He then separated the legs from what remained of the hip before moving what was just a lump of flesh and bone from the table. Placing the larger weapon down and going back to his dagger he proceeded to make the same cuts through each of the legs until done. The work was time consuming but soon it was done. He let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow, "Now all that's left his the torso and head." For this he drew a small sword from the shelf. Another six hacks, flesh and blood splattering around before he was done. Quickly he picked up the dagger and started to make another set of cuts in the chest. After finishing Duraza looked around before grabbing one of the jars of herbs. He opened it, tossing them out and putting the ten fingers inside the jar instead. Then he turned to body again.

Lied before him were six parts, two arms, two legs, torso, and head. Grabbing his staff and holding it high, dark energy flowed through him, chanting word as the cruel force of his magic crawled from his own being into that of the body. Shadow rose from each cut, emitting the dark energy, allowing it to flow through. From the head the dark magic flowed through the ears, open mouth and the eyes, flashing in and out. "My magic, my power, through this body you shall guide me to the book I hide, regardless of where in this world it is. In that book is great power and you shall be constrained to it through the force of my magic. When I come with your head and that which is missing from your hands you shall, with fingers and eyes renewed, point me in the direction, guide me, show me the way to the book that you are bound. If I cannot then let he who has your essence and energy, locked in those parts which you miss find the way to my possessions for surely they could only do so if I wanted them to."

There was a flash of shadow from the parts and then from the body it all crawled into the jar, into the fingers, all except the power still left in the head. Duraza closed the jar, grabbing the head by the hair and walked out, seeing the old lemur and Coneitic waiting form him outside. The area itself was empty though, the enkidukai most likely all retired to tents for sleep.

"I trust your work is done," the lemur said with a smirk, "And just in time I'm sure. Word tells me the demorian resistance is starting to fail."

Duraza nodded glancing to his side at Coneitic with a bag in his hands the enkidukai speaking, "I'm guessing this is for those... things you got there?"

Another nod before Duraza placed both the jar and the head in Coneitic's bag, "Be careful with them and leave now. I just have some last minute business to deal with but meet me outside the city." Coneitic did as told, hurrying along while Duraza turned to look at the lemur, without a word delivering a heavy-handed smack to the mans face, making him fall to the ground.

A scream came from the lemur's mouth, tenderly rubbing his cheek, "What, why..?"

Before he could finished Duraza reached down and grabbed him, lifting him up with his arms, dark smile on his face, "I'm sorry but I just can't have you sticking around... You see, I like to be safe and... You're a liability to all the work I've done. I can't have you ruining things, telling the wrong people... Or even worse, trying to figure out what I did yourself." With that Duraza's hands ignited with magic, this time in the form of deadly black flames. Swirling around the old man, he started to scream, but his first howls never were able to leave his throat, too weak, too fragile, he was already dying and Duraza had only offered the final blow. The diabolo threw the burning body at the tent, unleashing another stream of flame at it before running off, allowing it to burn to ash.

Outside the city of Ojaveda Duraza reached Coneitic at their camp,  a fire already going. He spotted the bag and took the head from it, motioning to Coneitic, "Did you bring those things I asked of?"

Coneitic gave him a smirk, walking into the camp while giving Duraza a mock-attitude, "Bah, do I always have to do everything for you or will you learn to get up and do things for yourself one day." From inside he tossed a bag out, it landing beside the diabolo. Duraza looked inside removing first a needle and thread. Quickly he worked at sowing both the eyes of the head and the mouth shut. He then took a knife and started to remove excess fat and tissue from the flesh while Coneitic came out of the tent with a pot full of herbs. The enkiduaki placed the pot of the fire, filled it with water. Once it was at a boil and Duraza had finished he tossed the head in the pot along with all ten of the fingers.

In time they would finish the boil, taken out to be dried, the head and fingers shrunken by the process. Then, sown on to a belt with the shrunken head at the front, Duraza would have his key to one of the hidden tomes written by his hand at the earlier times of his life...

But Duraza has long since died.

[I will continue as I can.]

[garoninja]

\o/ You started again! when are you ussually on? I need criminals to hunt 

[Duraza]

The Search For Knowledge

Nalirar started to wander in the sewers alone after Vayl left, thinking to himself. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Dakkru's will be done. That is the most I can ask for," Nalirar finally decided on, looking down an empty hall, only the sound of sewage running past disturbing his thoughts. He had taken his life's work, two Tomes on Dakkru and worship to the goddess, and had given them away for free to a klyros book seller in Yliakum named Dermathil.

"The original copies are never to be sold, they contain power," Nalirar said. "But it is crucial that the people of Yliakum understand Dakkru, for who she really is. We must spread her faith, not fear of it."

Nalirar looked down the river of waste for a few moments, letting the sound drown out his thoughts and senses. When he looked back up a ynnwn in a mask stood at the end of he hall, clapping, "Congratulations Nalirar," he said in a harsh tone, muffled partially by the mask itself, "You've managed to be a more effective annoyance than we ever thought someone of your age could."

With a frown, Nalirar opened his mouth to speak. Before he could utter a word Demoik grabbed his neck, slamming his weak body against the wall, "You really don't understand do you?" He started to laugh again while all Nalirar could do is watch, wide-eyed as he gasped frantically for breath, his weak arms clawing at Demoik's own, all attempts futile. "Do you think it was by chance that I met Saiix when I did, right after you two became aquatinted? Or that he had skill in dark magic, you had access to dark crystal, and I had a plan and a means to achieve it? You will die, Saiix will die, we will win. The gate will be ours, those books of yours will be ours, and there is nothing you can do to stop it."

Without another word, Nalirar's head slumped over. Demoik let go, his body falling weakly to the ground.

It was to that last statement that Demoik swore. And now, he was almost finished. Nalirar and Saiix were killed, the gate had served its only purpose, and now there was only one task left before he was rewarded. He only needed Nalirar's books, the task that had proven itself most complicated.

"I must depart to Oja. You will stay here and make your prey come to you Demoik. Deliver our message to the people and they will deliver to you Dermathil."

The words repeated in Demoik's mind and he knew what he had to do. He waited, standing in the sewers, among the rats, among the filth, in his own home, blades strapped to his side. His feet stood bare  in the muck, his lungs breathing in the stale air, flesh exposed to the stench, only a loincloth covering a small portion of his body. Staring at the ground, he saw what disgusted him, looking at everything with a sense of repulse but also with familiarity...

When he saw a klyros approach he put all these feelings aside, now focusing on the task at hand. Esorono walked up to him, he gave the man a nod, hoping to himself, that this would be the one.

"May I help you," Esorono asked, tone polite enough. He kept his eyes on the ynnwn, the only thing standing in-between himself and the exit.

Demoik nodded slightly, eyes still on Esorono, "Actually you can...You see, I'm looking for something I cannot find and I could use your help." He raises a brow, "If you'd be willing. Perhaps you know others of your race around Hydlaa? One specifically has a few possessions of mine I'd like to get back." Demoik casually took a few steps to the left, now directly in front of the exit, "His name is Dermathil."

Esorono gave a nod back, "I know him. I usually see him near Harnquist, but not in many other places."

"I see....Well, when next you see him, give him a message. From me. He was given three books a while ago, written by a man named Nalirar Kauge before his death. These books need to be returned to their proper place now."

To this the klyros nodded again and then Demoik continued, "Ah, you've got all that then? Good. Now if you could...There is one other thing I need help with." He started to smile slightly now before going on, "You see...it's another message...this one to the people of Hydlaa." His hands then moved towards his sword hilt, grabbing one of the broadswords with fingers tensed, "It is a message of terror and I'll leave it on your body." Demoik pulled the broadsword loose from its sheaf, from flowed a power. Might moved through him, his muscles tensing, enhanced, cruel smile on his face as he pointed the blade down to the floor, "Fear." Then, licking his lips he ran at Esorono for his first strike.

Quickly, the klyros opens his wings, text seeming to be written on them. In moments he casts a spell of rock armor to protect himself. As the blade made contact it greatly reduced the blow but as Demoik pulled it away Esorono still had a slight head wound. Responding through pain, the klyros animated his own shadow, claws reaching up and slashing and Demoik's chest, making a rough cut to the side as he jumped back, blood puddling on the floor. The ynnwn observed his own wound with wide eyes, "Ah, so you've got some fight in you after all?" As Esorono reached fro his morning start Demoik continued, hand on his other blade hilt, "For this I will crush you." Drawing his other blade from the sheath, power flowed into him again, muscles become larger, to a more frightening size, veins popping as he lifted both blades up. When the power settled he was muscular to a disgusting point, very much disfiguring.

Esorono blinked, taking a few steps back. When he did his foot backed into a rats and, involuntarily looking back at it for a moment he nodded to himself before turning his eyes back to Demoik. Hand out, he syphoned the energy out of the rat, it's life, to restore some of his own strength. Demoik, lifting both blades up horizontally and placing them together like scissors he ran at Esorono, both blades slicing the opposite way at contact, Esorono managing to dodge one only by putting himself in the way of another, the blades tip piercing through a bit of his flesh and across his torso, leaving him to drop to the ground. Before Demoik could react again the klyros reached out, animating Demoik's own shadow, forcing him to jump back, blades at the ready. Unable to hold it much longer, Esorono let the shadow drop to the floor, clenching his own wound.

"Not a bad shadowcaster are you then boy," Demoik said, "Just not good enough."

To this Esorono smiled, gathering up some of his last reserves of mana, casting another spell while he spoke, "I'm a fairly dark klyros. I can also play with the mind."

Demoik let out a cruel laugh, shaking his head, "Boy...You know nothing of darkness. I know men who would laugh at your spells. The truly dark are returning now, slowly but surely and this will be one of the first cities to burn." His laughter however was cut short, Esorono's spell activiating,  loud screeching sounds errupting in his head. He dropped his blades, muscles fading as he held his head tightly for a few moments before getting the sounds to subside. Then, with anger on his face he picked both broadswords up, sheathing them, "For that....I'll show you something special as well. For that....I'll make you suffer boy."

It was the klyros' turn to laugh, "Can't suffer if I die can I?"

"Oh, but you can...You don't know yet...We are everywhere. We are infiltraters....Invaded ever pore of this world and beyond...You'll see us in the realm of death....There is no doubt....The battle there has already started."

Slowly, Esorono struggled to stand, still bleeding, "There are more like you?"

"You don't know the half of it boy. As I said before...I've a message for you to deliver. The Harrow, long gone, comes now to take all under its shadow, to crush this world with the weight of our suffering. The time of endings is upon you. Now it is my time to leave you here...But first allow me a parting spell of my own..."

He held up a single finger, energy gathering at its tip, "A boy like you could never understand...Long ago I left the menial chore of fighting mortals.." At the tip of his finger a single dot of light glowed, energy still flowing into it, "No, now I fight gods!" He raised his finger up, the energy spastic, ready to burst, "Point of Divinity." From the point bright streaks of light emerged, bouncing and scattering all over the walls, filling the area around them with bright light.

Demoik, Do you know why I chose you? Why I chose to liberate you from that life of fanaticism? Because you knew it as well as I did, you were destined for greatness. Never look back to your origins, no. While you may have been born in filth you were born a deity among those who would succumb to their life. I chose you because I knew your fate. One day you will rise, the flesh will disappear, the ethereal will take its place. You will ascend to immortality with me.

In this world there are only two men of virture, two heros Demoik, you and I. Together we will sit on the topmost throne, together we will rule in the sky.

Bright energy streaks moved everywhere. As the light faded Demoik himself seemed to have escaped with it, only a few drops of blood left where he was standing.

[In response to you garoninja, random times. Its best if you find me on IRC which I'm trying to frequent more often and just ask if I'd like to RP or send me a query to ask if I'm up to anything.]