Working together, James and Damon managed to bring down the orc quite easily. James punched the orc hard in the stomach and as it dry heaved from the blow, Damon was able to skewer it similarly to the last one, causing a horrid amount of pain to the beast, and spilling blood and the contents of his stomach across the deck. "Urgh...." was all it could say as it slumped to the ground.
Frank's opponent knocked both the hammer and the axe away from himself by swinging his daggers quickly and forcefully, one after the other. Frank's somersault was somewhat successful, but he lost his balance as he ripped up the floorboard and it took him several flickers to right himself and prepare his attack. Just as the dark elf was running towards his tumbling target with dagger overhead, he stopped in his tracks. Foom!
The adhiel that faced Quinlan was now splattered against the wall. His torso was blasted away by the sneak attack with the hand-cannon, and his body was launched, the impact sending him somersaulting backwards, and causing him to collapse and show a hole in his back the size of a dinner plate, much larger than the entry wound.
With the only standing warrior distracted by his eviscerated comrade, Frank was able to whack him across the face with a board from which a nail protruded, which pierced the dark elf's cheek. The impact from the attack knocked him onto the ground and he twitched, apparently unconscious.
Impassable lifted.
Aboard the Merchant Vessel (JY 30, GT) - Damon Frank QC
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Damon Ryot
- Civus
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Mon Aug 25, 2008 7:25 pm
- Location: Roque now
As the young achadhiel's blade slid out of the orc's torso, an overwhelming sensation seemed to sweep him away the next instant. The boiling bloodlust abated completely, the cerebral man once again in control of his own actions, and he began to contemplate his immediate surroundings again.
The orc was dead or dying surely for he and the seaman James had made sure of that. By merely glancing about him he saw the others had fared just as well, better even, since both had been matched against much more intimidating opponents.
The sword was sheathed, in absolute silence, for he withdrew within his shell; an escape deep within the spheres of cosmos where a conscious thought measured a light-year, time ceaseless and yet non-existant, it was a world where none was bound. As his soul explored the vastness with ever increasing quantum, back on earth his gaze was directed at the bare floor of the meagre space they all stood in. His pride had suffered a dear blow; nearly fatal in a capacity alike to the shot of the handgun; so sudden and indifferently unyielding in mercy.
How could I have? Why did? What happened to me? But, I can't-Curses, why?-It's not-I can't...Damn Dominicus! His thoughts were but as if the half-giant was juggling his balls once more; an array of never answered questions, half-spoken truths, and the rest a jumble of nonsense mixed with the seeping rubbish of his subconscious. While his spirit soared, the body relaxed the tensed muscles and did away with the harmful and needless wastes produced; the mind pondered in clash with another.
Why? He requested of the spirits, his newfound friends, but another came to respond instead.
No need to be so hard on yourself, Damon. His subconscious consoled him quietly. These things happen, to everybody. I assure you, it was only a humane response, my dear. Of course you had to make sure she was alright...maybe you just elongated it a bit too much; and I got to say I liked the drama, to an extent.
Melodramatic, eh?
Touche!
He shook his head in disbelief; disregarding the attempts at self-humour. Everybody? Not everybody surely had crashed down like him. Frank hadn't broken down even in the face of such a foe and had sought to protect them all through, as his bodily functions had recorded. Quinlan had remained as iron-willed and adamant to triumph as the first time he'd met him in his imposing presence; a bonafide hero. And, to even mention James, it brought a flush of shame to his cheeks and particularly the scarlet was prominent behind the ears. What was he alongside such great men, but one snivelling little frail achadhiel, barely capable of taking down a mere orc. What consolation could truly wrench away this feeling of...absolutely nothing; for wasn't he nothing?
Well, at least I didn't cry. He thought wryly.
Atta a boy! The subliminal part of him commended and resigned smartly to its reside.
The rage was long gone, and he was happy for that because the animal scared him now afterwards. He'd never known to have such uncontrollable fury in him, and it now stood as a reminiscent that he wasn't so unlike his old man after all.
He didn't dare to look at the others, for he knew he'd wronged them by not only denying them his help and thereby endangering lives selfishly, but for a man to see another crumble as he had...
Unspeakable. He shook his head again, and did the only thing he could do now with some dignity...no rather it was devotion that drove him.
Moving slowly, his feet barely making a sound against the hard wood, the young man came to kneel beside the only person he still could look in the face; though that may have been due to the guilt that overcame the shame. He wasn't sure whether she was conscious any longer, but she was still alive, clear from the sharp intakes of breath that signified an amount of pain no one should endure; especially her.
"I'm so sorry, Esther. I didn't mean this to happen, I shouldn't have involved you; I should have saved you, I should have and should have and still should have till..." He said with a slight tremble to his voice, all in adhiel. "I-I-I...I...Damn!"
He immediately rose up with the anger rejuvenated in him, the animal biding its time, as he said very quietly.
"Logan Darkrise." A name he'd never dare forget lest he be consumed by very the burning desire within him; the will and want to kill, and for the first time he felt such was imminent on a person by his hand. It frightened him, to the death of the young achadhiel, but he somehow enjoyed which helped to downplay the shock. It increased his strength by tenfold; brought an uneasy elegance in his movement akin to a predator, not far from the infamous dark adhiel himself, and made pain a distant oblivion of mortal man. But, what he savoured most in the moment, was the feeling...the awe of power granted to him so abruptly it felt inclined to divination rather than pure raw emotion. Emotion so primal, that it need not an explanation, you merely quelled it or embraced it.
This may or may not have been evident from his face, by the slight callous smile twitching the lips; the fire flaring in the before so warm and kind brown eyes. Yet, one connected to his soul would have been most at dismay in the transformation; for it conveyed a malice undiluted by the ages, drawn from a wellspring far off and far away where demons or Death dared not tread by a single step.
The images, they flashed in a continuous motion in his mind, all depicting the thousand-no wait, a million....yet again more sprung up, ah! Needless to say it was not for those of faint of heart to see, hear, or in any way witness.
The orc was dead or dying surely for he and the seaman James had made sure of that. By merely glancing about him he saw the others had fared just as well, better even, since both had been matched against much more intimidating opponents.
The sword was sheathed, in absolute silence, for he withdrew within his shell; an escape deep within the spheres of cosmos where a conscious thought measured a light-year, time ceaseless and yet non-existant, it was a world where none was bound. As his soul explored the vastness with ever increasing quantum, back on earth his gaze was directed at the bare floor of the meagre space they all stood in. His pride had suffered a dear blow; nearly fatal in a capacity alike to the shot of the handgun; so sudden and indifferently unyielding in mercy.
How could I have? Why did? What happened to me? But, I can't-Curses, why?-It's not-I can't...Damn Dominicus! His thoughts were but as if the half-giant was juggling his balls once more; an array of never answered questions, half-spoken truths, and the rest a jumble of nonsense mixed with the seeping rubbish of his subconscious. While his spirit soared, the body relaxed the tensed muscles and did away with the harmful and needless wastes produced; the mind pondered in clash with another.
Why? He requested of the spirits, his newfound friends, but another came to respond instead.
No need to be so hard on yourself, Damon. His subconscious consoled him quietly. These things happen, to everybody. I assure you, it was only a humane response, my dear. Of course you had to make sure she was alright...maybe you just elongated it a bit too much; and I got to say I liked the drama, to an extent.
Melodramatic, eh?
Touche!
He shook his head in disbelief; disregarding the attempts at self-humour. Everybody? Not everybody surely had crashed down like him. Frank hadn't broken down even in the face of such a foe and had sought to protect them all through, as his bodily functions had recorded. Quinlan had remained as iron-willed and adamant to triumph as the first time he'd met him in his imposing presence; a bonafide hero. And, to even mention James, it brought a flush of shame to his cheeks and particularly the scarlet was prominent behind the ears. What was he alongside such great men, but one snivelling little frail achadhiel, barely capable of taking down a mere orc. What consolation could truly wrench away this feeling of...absolutely nothing; for wasn't he nothing?
Well, at least I didn't cry. He thought wryly.
Atta a boy! The subliminal part of him commended and resigned smartly to its reside.
The rage was long gone, and he was happy for that because the animal scared him now afterwards. He'd never known to have such uncontrollable fury in him, and it now stood as a reminiscent that he wasn't so unlike his old man after all.
He didn't dare to look at the others, for he knew he'd wronged them by not only denying them his help and thereby endangering lives selfishly, but for a man to see another crumble as he had...
Unspeakable. He shook his head again, and did the only thing he could do now with some dignity...no rather it was devotion that drove him.
Moving slowly, his feet barely making a sound against the hard wood, the young man came to kneel beside the only person he still could look in the face; though that may have been due to the guilt that overcame the shame. He wasn't sure whether she was conscious any longer, but she was still alive, clear from the sharp intakes of breath that signified an amount of pain no one should endure; especially her.
"I'm so sorry, Esther. I didn't mean this to happen, I shouldn't have involved you; I should have saved you, I should have and should have and still should have till..." He said with a slight tremble to his voice, all in adhiel. "I-I-I...I...Damn!"
He immediately rose up with the anger rejuvenated in him, the animal biding its time, as he said very quietly.
"Logan Darkrise." A name he'd never dare forget lest he be consumed by very the burning desire within him; the will and want to kill, and for the first time he felt such was imminent on a person by his hand. It frightened him, to the death of the young achadhiel, but he somehow enjoyed which helped to downplay the shock. It increased his strength by tenfold; brought an uneasy elegance in his movement akin to a predator, not far from the infamous dark adhiel himself, and made pain a distant oblivion of mortal man. But, what he savoured most in the moment, was the feeling...the awe of power granted to him so abruptly it felt inclined to divination rather than pure raw emotion. Emotion so primal, that it need not an explanation, you merely quelled it or embraced it.
This may or may not have been evident from his face, by the slight callous smile twitching the lips; the fire flaring in the before so warm and kind brown eyes. Yet, one connected to his soul would have been most at dismay in the transformation; for it conveyed a malice undiluted by the ages, drawn from a wellspring far off and far away where demons or Death dared not tread by a single step.
The images, they flashed in a continuous motion in his mind, all depicting the thousand-no wait, a million....yet again more sprung up, ah! Needless to say it was not for those of faint of heart to see, hear, or in any way witness.
Last edited by Damon Ryot on Mon Nov 10, 2008 11:47 am, edited 3 times in total.
Time fades, even legend...
Frank didn't waste any time after the Dark Adhiel hit the deck. He immediately turned the creature over and took off the straps that wound around his wrist and hand. He put its arms behind its back and bound them with the leather strap, weaving the strap between the two in a figure-eight fashion so that the hands could be bound tightly individually and close together as well, and then he wound it around both wrists to keep the critter from turning his hands to loosen the binding. He looked up at the bloody mess around Quinlan. I don't know what that was; I couldn't afford to look, but it saved my life. I got lucky, and might have saved this operation. I just hope this one doesn't die somehow. With that, the half giant through the dark elf over his shoulder and began walking toward the door. He noticed Damon switch from a somber morose appearance to some sort of valiant rage. In response to this he put a hand on his shoulder.
"You really helped us out, Skinny, but it's over. Don't waste your energy now, you've got to take care of your lady. Don't forget the reasons you're angry. I'm assuming you've known this woman a long time - don't let her down." Frank didn't know whether he'd met her at birth or yesterday, but it didn't matter. He obviously gained far more stress when she was harmed than himself, and the half-elf didn't hide it. Yet, their work was far from over; the wounded needed tending to and the prisoner needed questioning.
"Let's go back to the dinghy. We need to get back on land." As Frank spoke, he began to realize how queasy he was feeling, and he made for the door. If I keep rocking on this boat I might hurl. I need dry land... I forgot to use my sea-legs- lucky I didn't fall over. When he reached the shredded pieces of the doors, he turned around.
"Quinlan- you think you could use those smarts of yours to find something around here that might teach us something? I probably wouldn't know a clue if I saw it, and James is bleeding pretty bad." Frank almost never called anyone by their real name unless they were a superior officer or his father, but somehow he felt that this man deserved respect more than even James. Besides, it irritated him that James called him Sohrin despite the fact that he knew his real name. If there was a reason behind this, Frank didn't understand it, and therefore he decided Quinlan Corodin deserved to be addressed by his real name.
"You really helped us out, Skinny, but it's over. Don't waste your energy now, you've got to take care of your lady. Don't forget the reasons you're angry. I'm assuming you've known this woman a long time - don't let her down." Frank didn't know whether he'd met her at birth or yesterday, but it didn't matter. He obviously gained far more stress when she was harmed than himself, and the half-elf didn't hide it. Yet, their work was far from over; the wounded needed tending to and the prisoner needed questioning.
"Let's go back to the dinghy. We need to get back on land." As Frank spoke, he began to realize how queasy he was feeling, and he made for the door. If I keep rocking on this boat I might hurl. I need dry land... I forgot to use my sea-legs- lucky I didn't fall over. When he reached the shredded pieces of the doors, he turned around.
"Quinlan- you think you could use those smarts of yours to find something around here that might teach us something? I probably wouldn't know a clue if I saw it, and James is bleeding pretty bad." Frank almost never called anyone by their real name unless they were a superior officer or his father, but somehow he felt that this man deserved respect more than even James. Besides, it irritated him that James called him Sohrin despite the fact that he knew his real name. If there was a reason behind this, Frank didn't understand it, and therefore he decided Quinlan Corodin deserved to be addressed by his real name.
Last edited by Frank on Mon Nov 10, 2008 10:14 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Swimming is good for you, especially if you're drowning
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Haikan
- Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
- Posts: 670
- Joined: Sun Apr 27, 2008 6:32 am
- Location: Pennsylvania, United States
Esther's jaw shifted and she clamped her teeth a few times. Her tongue moved around inside her mouth and she licked her teeth. Her jaw was healing quite fast -as always-, but her heart was sore, seeing Damon so angry. She rose and she stood before him. "I have something for you, Damon. It's not to be given now, but don't let me forget."
James clutched his shoulder. "Yeah boys, don't you forget about me. I need a bandage! Oh... And boy." He suddenly grew very serious. "Don't call Sorihn by that name again. As long as he's here, that name is no longer his. I'm warning you. Damon's name is known by these folk, and he's likely to be on the run from them for the rest of his life because of it... However the name Sorihn will protect him. He'll be associated with the one named Sorihn, who's legendary name will instill fear in any dark-hearted assassin that hears it. Let's just leave it at that, okay?" He turned to the door and walked up the steps, not stopping for any question that the half-giant might have.
A familiar fluttering sound could be heard by everyone, and Celeste flew in, circled the room and landed on Quinlan's shoulder. "Great work everybody. Damon, thank you for working with these people. I can't believe you're all okay! I'm.... I'm so happy!"
The dark-adhiel that survived was unconscious on the ground, effectively bound by Frank's rope. Suddenly, there was nothing but quiet. Outside of their voices, the ship seemed hauntingly silent, and the acrid stench of death was thick.
James clutched his shoulder. "Yeah boys, don't you forget about me. I need a bandage! Oh... And boy." He suddenly grew very serious. "Don't call Sorihn by that name again. As long as he's here, that name is no longer his. I'm warning you. Damon's name is known by these folk, and he's likely to be on the run from them for the rest of his life because of it... However the name Sorihn will protect him. He'll be associated with the one named Sorihn, who's legendary name will instill fear in any dark-hearted assassin that hears it. Let's just leave it at that, okay?" He turned to the door and walked up the steps, not stopping for any question that the half-giant might have.
A familiar fluttering sound could be heard by everyone, and Celeste flew in, circled the room and landed on Quinlan's shoulder. "Great work everybody. Damon, thank you for working with these people. I can't believe you're all okay! I'm.... I'm so happy!"
The dark-adhiel that survived was unconscious on the ground, effectively bound by Frank's rope. Suddenly, there was nothing but quiet. Outside of their voices, the ship seemed hauntingly silent, and the acrid stench of death was thick.
Last edited by Haikan on Tue Nov 25, 2008 7:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Avatar by vickyjane
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Damon Ryot
- Civus
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Mon Aug 25, 2008 7:25 pm
- Location: Roque now
I have something for you, Damon. It's not to be given now, but don't let me forget.
His anger quickly subdued as he heard her speak; for he hadn't seen her rise up and standing, until now.
She has something for me? Curiosity got the better of him, doing away with the rest of his swirling turbulent emotions. The beast, animal, or whatever left him as the images of carnage and death of a certain cousin of his receded; yet only contained at the back of his mind, for now.
He turned to look at the half-giant Frank, his words of wisdom just sinking in now. He nodded shortly; a nod to confirm he was back to his senses, though the shame of his emotional breakdown hadn't been obliterated just yet. Perhaps never...
He didn't get to thank his saviour, James, for the man was gone before he'd even noticed. He moved on to the next person, facing Quinlan, who he looked at as he still tried to fathom as to the nature of this valiant man. James had called him Sorihn for some reason, but the name or title bore little meaning to his limited knowledge of the world; a bliss and a curse of youth. He never did look at the dark adhiel, though he knew he was lying unconscious there nearby, lest his rage boil to the surface again. And, he didn't want that to happen now; he was saving it for a very special someone.
"I'm sorry, Esther." He managed to apologise, yet avoided direct eye contact, afraid what those brilliant blue eyes may reflect in their unfathomable depths where he dared not venture. Accusation, hate; disappoinment, sadness, or the mere pain and misery. He knew he couldn't take it, gestured by an instinctive slight shaking of his head.
He didn't know what next, that was until he met a friend of his again.
"Celeste!" He shouted out in surprise as the vividly coloured bird flew in below deck, landing on Quinlan's shoulder.
Could have been mine too... He noted wryly.
His joy was soon quenched however. The young achadhiel just couldn't stop blaming himself, not that it was self-pity he felt, rather he loathed himself now more than anything; almost anything I mean. He'd never even thought it possible; his father had made him strong.
My old man trained me so well...or maybe it's just the outside that's strong, while the inside... He dared not finish the thought.
Perhaps, perhaps...But, even the mightiest of warriors and bravest of heroes must cry one day. His subconscious tried to console, in vain.
Away with you. He weakly ordered, but it complied nonetheless.
"Yes, we're all so happy..." He said flatly, letting his hands go through his hair slowly.
He took a quick look at all those still around, and without warning he turned his back to them all, following in the footsteps of seaman James in a sombre saunter up towards the deck. He didn't say a word, emanate a thought, and for the young man it seemed the heavenly spheres were now truly lightyears from him.
Maybe they never were there...
OOC-I hope I'm allowed to post...
Last edited by Damon Ryot on Tue Nov 25, 2008 11:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
Time fades, even legend...
"Sorihn... Got it." Frank walked out the door and onto the deck, where he leapt (the dark elf still in his arms) down to the dinghy below,. As he jump he wove the rope into his hands and swung down, but after he struck the orc that was still hanging from it his grip was broken and he fell the remaining few feet without the rope to guide him. He did his best to land on his feet, and tried even harder to keep his grip on the dark elf.
After he righted himself, he looked back up at the ship. "Are you guys coming?" He said, looking around at the maimed carcasses around him. He looked up and saw the headless orc hanging, and said: "We should leave that there as a warning."
After he righted himself, he looked back up at the ship. "Are you guys coming?" He said, looking around at the maimed carcasses around him. He looked up and saw the headless orc hanging, and said: "We should leave that there as a warning."
Last edited by Frank on Thu Dec 18, 2008 2:31 am, edited 1 time in total.
Swimming is good for you, especially if you're drowning
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Haikan
- Moderator & Coordinator Mer Cities
- Posts: 670
- Joined: Sun Apr 27, 2008 6:32 am
- Location: Pennsylvania, United States
"You ain't as retarded as ye look, Frank. I agree, ye should head back. You kids should all be headin' to yer homes immediately. I'll clean up here. Sorihn, you stay with me. Damon, Meathead, go ahead and take the dinghy back, there's another one oe'r by the stern that Sorihn and I can use."
James grabbed Quinlan by the shoulder and began to walk with him back down the stairs. The breeze was warm from the Mer, and Frank managed to clumsily land on his feet. He slipped on blood and landed on his backside, and in plain sight there were two maimed orcs who had earlier conned Damon into working with them.
James grabbed Quinlan by the shoulder and began to walk with him back down the stairs. The breeze was warm from the Mer, and Frank managed to clumsily land on his feet. He slipped on blood and landed on his backside, and in plain sight there were two maimed orcs who had earlier conned Damon into working with them.
Avatar by vickyjane
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Damon Ryot
- Civus
- Posts: 113
- Joined: Mon Aug 25, 2008 7:25 pm
- Location: Roque now
Damon followed the half-giant Frank back to the harbour on the dinghy from the merchant vessel as the seaman James had suggested, after which he parted ways swiftly, heading alone into the night of Roque bearing his troubled mind like a heavy load on him.
The young achadhiel would spent the rest of the night walking aimlessly the streets of Roque, deep in thought, though no coherent thought would surface. He was too tired and down to think things through just yet and wished to wait till the rays of the sun would offer a promise of something...anything.
(OOC- Hope this wraps it up)
The young achadhiel would spent the rest of the night walking aimlessly the streets of Roque, deep in thought, though no coherent thought would surface. He was too tired and down to think things through just yet and wished to wait till the rays of the sun would offer a promise of something...anything.
(OOC- Hope this wraps it up)
Time fades, even legend...