Ex_Libris

Jaym knelt on the floor beside Victor, who had managed to stop most of the bleeding from his amputated arm with an impromptu tourniquet. He checked the bleeding was under control and looked into his friend's eyes.

"That was fun." Victor dryly commented, before coughing up some blood.

Jaym smirked at his friend. "Well fought. I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. There were many more upstairs." He glanced to the bodies of Aidan and Thom, sighing.

"Now don't start blaming yourself, Jaym. You know it's the way the order works. Don't blame yourself. They knew the risks." V chastized, instantly recognizing the mental road his leader was travelling down. Jaym nodded absently, and returned his gaze to Victor.

"You know," V said, casually,"it never gets old when they realize who you are. I envy you the fear you strike in them."

"Victor."

"Yes?"

"Never envy me." Jaym stood, and began walking towards the door.

"Jaym- wait!" V shouted after him.

The large man paused, his black leather trenhcoat swirling between his legs as he turned his blue eyes back to his friend. "The order will be here soon. You'll be fine. Go heal."

"No, that's not it." Victor said, grimacing briefly as he shifted position. "I was going to ask where you're going- how can I find you?"

Jaym's eyes clouded over as he gazed into the nothingness before him for a moment. He snapped out of his reverie and turned towards the door again. He needed to continue on with his mission. He needed to go where he was needed most.

"I'll be in Paragon City," Purpleaxxe said.

________________________________
(end of story)

Since I was asked, yes, of course, please feel free to post commentary on this thread concerning this story.
I hope you enjoyed this character Origin!


(The short story above is an original creation of Druidblue. All names and characters above are fictional. Any resemblance or use of existing names is purely accidental. The name Purpleaxxe is protected by creative trademark. The name Jaym Avery Prince is protected by sales trademark. Neither are permissible to use in other media without my written consent! Thank you!)

[ QUOTE ]
Question regarding etiquette (I figure RPers are probably the best to ask). I know a lot of folks get angry about the whole Kill-Stealing business, so I always ask if someone needs help before jumping in... on offense. My character is strongly bound to helping people however, and I often heal a player that looks like they are having difficulty if I happen upon them. Is that considered bad etiquette as well?

[/ QUOTE ]

From my point of view, healing someone else is not a breach of etiquette at all unless you are deliberately trying to annoy them. Someone who heals a stranger they come across on the street gains no XP and does not in any way interfere with gameplay (unless they are trying to spam the screen with various flashy graphics, but they'd have to be totally insane to spend $20 a month for a game to do that instead of just sitting in a room flicking the light-switch on and off).

Virtue, eh? I'll try and get together a good character for that. Anyone I should watch out for?

A pause came in the battle, the ash of more than half the Vampires dusting the floor with grey powder, occasionally creating a pool of muck when it mixed with coagulated Vampire blood. The air was cloudy, thick with dust like pouring a fresh bag of cat litter, and the smell of decay was unmistakeable. The three men still stood near each other, the leader brandishing his axe with a speed unlike any the Vampire elder had seen before. Something about this one worried him, and gnawed at the back of his mind. So many years on this earth, and so many memories... sometimes things were not always clear.

"Tell me, hunter. What name do you go by? the elder queried, in a sing-song fashion. Perhaps the human would only be strong and quick, and not the smartest of his kind. The very wisest of beings knows that knowledge is the greatest power to posses.

"You may call me Death, for that is all you will know from me, demon." Jaym quipped, as he effortlessly sidestepped a seemingly lightning-fast black blur of an attack from his right flank and neatly whirled his axe into another killing blow. The disconnected head fell flat against the floor, a small spray of blood spraying into the air before settling into a stain on the carpet.

"Then, Death, let us send you home." the elder lost patience, signalling his brood to attack. As the battle engaged once more, he stood motionless in the center of the dancefloor, intently studying this mystery hunter. The elder was quite familiar with lore, and again with the hunters that so often felt compelled to hunt his kind down all over the world. He watched the flow of the battle, the effortless speed and strength of this foe, and let his mind search for the truth.

An agonizing scream broke his thoughts momentarily, as he saw one of the lesser men fall to an unseen attack, dead before they had hit the ground. He noted the reaction of the other lesser man, who turned to face his fallen friend. This caused his guard to drop momentarily, resulting in an instantaneous attack against his left arm, severing it at the elbow. The man released a sharp painful squeal, before managing to stake the vampire on him into a shower of ash and blood. The elder smirked at the lucky strike briefly before returning his stare to the larger threat.

The large man had not reacted to the death of his teammate, and had instantly moved into a defensive position over the second wounded member. The remaining vampires could not reach the wounded human to finish it off, and the few who got to close met a quick death by steel. The elder focused on the weapon, studying its design and markings. He watched the blood roll down its flat surface, triggering a memory in his mind.

...

About seventeen years ago he had been in Europe, a lesser member of a vampire nest terrorizing the local population of a moderate sized town. The brood was in the nest, sharing tales of victims and enjoying their time in a rowdy fashion. But talk diverted to that of a hunter bothering them in recent times, killing three of their number in the last month. Suddenly their elder spoke for the first time that evening. He dismissed the current hunter as a nuisance, nothing more than an amateur seeking his own death. Not a true hunter, he warned, one of they who had trained for it their whole lives.

"There is a hunter who has plagued the vampire community at every point in the world. No place is safe from this slayer. A formidible human, quite intelligent, stronger than most humans and quick as a cheetah. His weapon of choice is a large battle axe, metal so dense it seems infused in a deep blue tint. Edges sharp as a diamond. He has destroyed entire nests in a matter of minutes, sometimes with assistance, but often alone." The elder paused, glancing into the air as if travelling back to some point in the past. His eyes refocused, and he resumed his speech. "We have a name for him. We always have, for several thousands of years."

"Elder?", a lithe figure interrupted meekly, "If he is human how is this possible? Pardon my ignorance. I do not believe the humans live thousands of years- only we have the gift of immortality."

The elder had already begun nodding, anticipating this question. "Indeed. However, in each generation we have encountered a warrior mimicking the same battle technique. Despite different upbringing, nationality and appearance, we have histories of nests being destroyed by a hunter wielding a large battle axe as their only weapon."

"The soul of this human passes on through the generations, Elder?" a query came from the back of the room.

"No, nothing so mystical. We have learned of a secret order than exists, though we are uncertain of its name or origin. It is this order that trains these warriors each generation for a singular purpose- the destruction of vampires and demons. Despite being having no supernatural powers, do not underestimate these human warriors, my children. They are the most fearsome of enemies we might face in this world."

"Elder? What was this name you spoke of earlier?"

The elder nodded, and leaned back in his seat a touch. He gathered a deep breath before beginning. "The elders attempted to destroy this hunter order soon after the pattern emerged. 5000 years ago an ambush was launched against the existing slayer of that generation. The plan was infallible. The mismatch in sheer numbers alone was astronomical. Fifty full broods of vampires lie in wait surrounding a small hill in Ireland. The attack was launched instantly upon leading the hunter into a trap at the hilltop. Hundreds of vampires all working towards a common goal. The destruction of one single human man. The battle lasted roughly seven hours."

The elder vampire stood, and crossed the room. He kept his back to them for a moment, reflecting on the battle in his mind, unseen to the others and impossible to describe in words. He turned back to face them.

"Only a single handful of elder vampires escaped that battle alive. All reported seeing the same thing on that hilltop. The hunter stood, wounds flowing freely all over his body, bruises marring his flesh and skin scraped off in large globs. His clothes were completely stained in the unmistakeable deep red colour of vampire blood. Yet at the ready he stood, his axe held up before him.

The moon broke through the clouds at that point, illuminating the ash in a pale white glow as it lie scattered about his feet. The ash was a foot deep in some places." The elder took another deep breath. "But none of this is what the elders who survived recalled. It was the axe. You see, it was coated with layer upon layer of dried vampire blood. That steel blue metal had merged with the blood. It appeared as if it had been drinking the vampire blood- and it was glowing. A dull glowing in a colour all vampires fear to this day."

...

"Purple!" the elder stammered out loud. His eyes widened, suddenly very frightened as his memories rushed back to him in an overwhelming wave.

He looked up frantically, eyes refocusing on the hunter before him. "You... you are...", he stammered, panic filling his chest, freezing him in place. He had never felt this way in his very long existence.

"Jaym Avery Prince." came the steady reply from before him. "But you may call me Purpleaxxe."

The elder felt his a massive chill run along his spine. His mind raced before freezing on one thought alone. He was the last vampire alive.
And the Purpleaxxe was moving towards him.

<concluded, next>

Thom's lifeless body lie shattered on the ground, his own sword firmly planted through his chest. His lifeless eyes glared straight ahead, as if daring anyone to mock him for his earlier arrogance. The dancefloor was littered with a handful of young bodies, some broken tables and chairs, and a large amount of glass from broken bottles and drinking mugs.

"V, left, lad!" Aidan shouted from the alcove he stood in to the left of the dancefloor, his face visible only every other second as a strobe light flickered on and off.

Victor swung to his left as fast as possible, lifting his crossbow up and launching a shot without aiming. The bolt planted into the wall where a shadow had been, but did no damage beyond cracking the plaster. "Not here!" he screamed, the sound echoing around the cavernous basement room, which on any given night would normally be thundering with music. His eyes scanned the mostly quiet room, ignoring the rustle of their clothes and the clicks of the strobe light. He was desperately trying to distinguish between the shadows he was looking for and the shadows that held them. He glanced left at a passing blur, unsure if it was nothing more than one of the hundreds of tricks his eyes were playing on him. Motion caused him to settle his gaze just beyond the left of the stage. Just behind Aidan.

"Aidan! Behind you!" V screamed and launched forward, dropping his unloaded crossbow as he simultaneously reached into his trenchcoat pocket. Aidan, acting on instinct rather than a plan, launched himself forward towards Victor's location desperately hoping his teammate would help save him. He felt a surge of cold terror brush the back of his neck, only to be replaced with a searing heat like which he'd never felt before. The sensation broke as a vial thrown by Victor whistled an inch past his left ear, shattering into something seemingly on his back. The white hot heat immediately ceased with a sudden hiss as shards of glass rained down his neck and wetness matted down the back left of his head. He fell forward to his knees, catching himself with both hands. V reached him almost at the same time.

Aidan gasped a deep, uneven breath. "T-thanks, lad."

"No time for thanks. Get up, quick." Victor clasped his hand around Aidan's and lifted him with a frantic surge. Once Aidan was standing on his own, he quickly stepped into position behind him and reached to his side, under his coat. He withdrew a crude wooden stake, highly sharpened at the end.

"I dinna got any more vials ah water, V. I dinna suppose ye can oblige?" Aidan desperately asked as he patted his pockets, searching.

"I'm out. Grab something else. Quickly, please." V hurriedly said. Aidan bent to grab the bottom half of a chair, and using his foot, broke a chair leg off. Glancing at his new weapon, he reached to the back of his belt and withdrew a switchblade, quickly flipped it open, and began frantically shaving and end into a point.

"I dinna suppose ye can ask fer a song request while I finish me whittlin'?" Aidan queried, attempting to lighten the mood as he so often did. V sighed while he continued to monitor the blinking room.

"Where's Jaym?" he asked Aidan, suddenly concerned for his friend and their team leader.

"I dinna. Upstairs still, I'm supposin'" the Scot sighed. "I'm hopin' he can grace us with his person soon, aye?"

Victor was about to reply when a chilling voice split the air into a thousand pieces. "I really hate it when you go out on the town and the party is...dead. Don't you?"

The two combatants twirled to face a shade materializing from the darkness from the dancefloor. The pale, stretched face flickered in the strobe like a black and white traffic light. The figure wore a pair of black leather pants, with a deep red shirt under a generic leather jacket. Brown hair flowed in an unkempt fashion down over the man's shoulders in split waves.

"Get ready, Aidan." V warned, voice no more than a whisper, as he lifted his stake to the ready, Aidan following suit.

"Ah, such a sight to behold. You do know," the brown-haired man's melodic voice rang out, "that is one of my favorite stereotypes of our battles? Think about it. You have a small, pointy wood stick in your slow, puny human hands. You need to hit me exactly... here." The man paused, to tap a long-nailed finger against his chest. "Now, that in itself isn't too bad. But considering that I'm no less than ten times faster than your fastest move, and several times stronger than you both combined... Well. You do the math on your odds of landing one of those stakes where it needs to go. It's really quite laughable, when you stop to consider it." A sly smile broke on the smooth skin, dark lips parting to flash a row of bleached white teeth that seemed to be dancing synchronously in the flickering of the strobe light.

"Try us, ye demon!" Aidan shouted. "We've beat yer kind before and we'll do it now, ye ken?" The Scot railed in anger.

"Ah! Such vehemence! No need for it, gentlemen, no need. After all... I don't think it's fair to direct all your anger at me, when my friends want to play just as much, do you?" The mesmerizing voice trailed off meaningfully, as shadows came into existence all about the room. Pale faces, wrapped in dark clothing, surrounded the men.

Victor hissed, and whispered to Aidan. "There's almost two dozen!" Aidan had no reply, not sure how they would manage this one.

The leader of the pale men tittered with laughter as the two felt the dark shades move in on them, suffocating their freedom. "Now, I suppose your last thought will be regret on having nothing more than simple stakes to defend yourself, huh? A flamethrower would have been nice just about now, I bet! Vials of holy water? But no, you will just have to live, or better put, die, with your lack of knowledge. Stakes. I always laugh at that one!"

A new shadow fell from the overlook of the first floor, landing behind two of the closest forms moving in on the men from their rear. A blur of blue steel flickered through the flashing light as two heads rolled across the dance floor towards the central figure, the deceased bodies disintegrating into clouds of ash. Confusion clouded his face as he glanced up, not quite sure how this was achieved. A new human stood behind the others, a large, muscular man of perhaps 6' 2". His long black coat swung behind him like a cape as he twirled a massive battle axe up to face at the ready. The razor edges were gleaming in the uncertain light, traces of dark blood running down the flat sides.

"I don't use stakes." Jaym remarked, matter-of-factly, to the dismay of the suddenly troubled Vampire in the center of the room.

<continued, next>

They walked in silence, eery stone markers of graves tilting at odd angles to both sides of their path. In the gloom of the night their shapes seemed to constantly morph, daring any eyes that lie upon them to discern their true shape. No sounds fell on their ears, save the soft crunch of mildewy leaves under their boots and the mild whispers of their breathing. The path curved down a slight hill to their left, and began to head towards a thick forest at the edge of the lot. They sidestepped a large marble monument which had collapsed from age and disrepair, and passed through a small break in the fencing into the mass of trees. A colourful glow of lights broke through the branches of the trees ahead, illuminating the branches in shades of yellow, white, blue, and red. Shadows danced among the trees and snuck along the ground as if playing a perpetual game of hide and seek.

They broke through a thick copse into a clearing, five feet from a paved road. A row of buildings lined the street, neon lights the culprit of the dancing hues in the sky, screaming colour into the night that a certain brand of beer was for sale at one shop, and that you should enter another establishment because it was "OPEN". The group, automatically trained to minimie visibility of their weaponry in public locales, had instantly slid their weapons into hiding or tight against the back of their sides.

Normal people didn't walk around carrying swords, axes, and weaponry in general. But these were not normal people.

"Ah, Jaym lad," Aidan began hesitantly, "it seems ta me we've done and gone ta far! Tha graves are behind us, dinna ye notice na more?" The Scot gave a quick stab of his thumb over his shoulder to the graveyard behind them.

"No. This is our destination." Jaym's ice blue eyes met with Aidan's, informing him there was no confusion on this matter.

"Jaym. What's going on?" V asked, not sure he understood. "This is Oak Avenue. Why are we outside the graveyard?"

"Because, what we're looking for is in there." He pointed with a thick index finger at the building straight across from the clearing where they stood.

Although only one story, it was of the wider buildings on the street. A large blue and white neon sign made its home mounted above the door, letting all but the blind know without a doubt that this was "Heavendown". Heavendown was a relatively trendy, if not out-of-the-way, drinking and dancing establishment intended for the singles crowd in the nearby suburbs.

"Heavendown?" Thom blurted, confused. "Jaym, if we were heading here in the first place why didn't we just drive here? Why go through the cemetary?" he motioned around them in annoyance.

"It was a shortcut. Let's go." Jaym smirked, and with a single spin of his axe, strolled across the street to the door of the bar.

"Shortcut!" Thom fumed. "Why does he do that? He always makes things into an elaborate joke of some kind. The kind only he gets. You know?" He glared at his leader's back and raised his voice as he shouted, "Only you think it's funny!"

V, standing beside him with a sly grin on his face, thumped Thom in the stomach lightly, causing the younger man to catch his breath for a moment. And, more importantly, to shut him up. "Thom. He does those things because you're never ready. If we just pulled up here and marched in, it'd be a massacre. He's trying to teach you a lesson on preparation. One you're not learning very quickly. He may be couching his lessons in these bizarre jokes of his, but the lessons are no laughing matter. Come on, let's go." Victor, or V, as the group called him, checked for passing cars and strolled after Jaym. Aidan tagged behind him, but not before turning his head back to plant a wide, toothy smile and a quick wink in Thom's direction.

Thom curled his lip in disdain and angrily swung his sword in a silvery blur of motion to release some of the anger boiling up inside of him. He cursed a few times under his breath in the direction of the other three, and spat on the ground to his side. "I am so sick of being treated like I can't do this. I've been fine the past three times. I don't care what they think. Jonny was the one not ready. Not me. I am too ready. I'm always ready."

<continued, next>

The last rays of the sun finally blinked themselves into nonexistance as his watch alarm went off. He absent-mindedly swatted the off button with his mammoth right hand and reached back down to adjust the leather grip on the hilt of the large battle axe in his left hand. He glanced into the horizon at the skyline, and nodded to himself.

It was night. It was showtime.

"Let's go." his baritone voice steadily intoned, rumbling deep into the chests of those around as if they stood too close to a loud speaker. A group of three figures in his vicinity quickly formed up on his lead as he strode forward without hesitation. The furthest behind of the group glanced back down the dirt road to where they had been waiting. The black van they had arrived in was melting into the night around it, as if it had never existed and was nothing more than a trick of his eyes.

"Aidan, did you secure the van? You know we're in a world of hurt if the cops find that and shine flashlights in on a crapload of weapons." the straggler blurted worriedly.

"Aye, dinna worry Thom. 'Tis nothing fer wandering eyes ta see but ah handful a' tools an' ah flat tire inside." Aidan assured, from directly in front of him.

"Sure, so says you. You remember what happened in Minneapolis, right?" Thom retorted. "That was one hell of a mess to get out of, Aidan. We don't fight the cops, remember?"

"Quiet!" the man in front of them hushed. "Jaym said to keep the chatter down, didn't he? You two never listen. Neither did Jonny, and look what happened to him, huh? Shut up and focus!" he angrily warned, as he turned to resume following his leader.

Aidan shrugged at Thom and without saying another word, turned to follow the two in front. Thom quietly mumbled to himself. "Yeah, V, but why do you always have to bring Jonny back up?" He kicked a large rock out of the dirt in the road and began to tag along.

The group of four walked in silence up the road, following the uneven path as it wound its way upwards into a maw of darkness in the short distance.

"There." Jaym said, as he stopped without warning. "That's what we're looking for guys. Come on." He quickly strolled over to the black iron wrought gates at the edge of the road. He tested them, and noted they bore a very secure lock to bar them shut. He planted a foot on the bottom crossbar and quickly climbed up and over, landing on the other side. Without waiting for the rest of the team, he began to vanish into the wooded lot, last visible by a glimmer of moonlight off the sharp edge of the axe held at his side.

V and Aidan quickly followed suit as Thom stopped short, sighing. He planted the tip of his longsword into the dirt slightly, leaning the hilt against a plaque on the brick posts the gates were mounted on, and kneeled to tighten his bootlace. He stood back up and retrieved his sword, eyes never moving from the ornate bronze plaque. "Why does it always have to be this type of place?" he bemoaned, and proceeded to climb up and over the ebony gates. As he vanished into the dark after the others, the only remnant of their passing was some dirt from his boot marring the pristine surface of the plaque.

The plaque read "Detroit Memorial Graveyard".

<continued, next>

The remains of the demons lie on the ground before them, along with several members of the Order who had disobeyed the High Druid's order and gone too far in defending the castle. Naen shook his head sadly, though not in surprise. He knew very well the members of the Order would not retreat so easily. He mourned their loss briefly, then decided to wait for a more appropriate time. He glanced at the Druid beside him, who was kneeling and inspecting the marking on the Demon's left forearm. He stood quickly and smoothly, sure of his movements as never before. Naen recognized the new confidence in his disciple and nodded.

"What tier-realm mark does he bear? We must pursue this conflict to its natural end and see the destruction of the Imbalance in its entirety as Nature has commanded." Naen spoke, quietly. Today had been a large battle, and unexpected one, but their victory gave them the opportunity to catch the undead army off guard. They must turn their defence into offense and finish this once and for all.

"Morghan ran the information gathered to the Ovates for research in the Tomes, Druidraven. He should be here momentarily with that information." Druidblue commented softly. "I am just trying to make sure we miss nothing more." He knelt and resumed his studies of the demon's corpse beneath them.

Naen nodded to no one in particular, as his thoughts closed in on himself. He had not missed Druid Corentyn's reference to him by his true name, Druidraven. Only one who had passed the test earned the right within the Order to refer to others by their true names. The meditation had been successful. Each Druid must pass the test of the true name at least once in their lifetime. It is never an easy task, and many fail numerous times, unable to see the truth in front of them. Success, however, results in their true name being presented to them, a source of magical power derived from a spirit animal. From this point on, they serve as Nature's guardians in all things, strengthening their natural magic and power with incredible force in order to succeed at such a broad task.

He glanced towards the door as he heard the young bard running their direction with the news they sought. He glanced back at the young Druid before him, and reflected on what had occurred. Every Druid in the past 2700 years had a true name given by spirit animal, based on that spirit animal. His own, the Raven, came to him and told him his true name of Druidraven. But Caydyn Corentyn had not received such a true name. Though delivered by wolf, he had received the name of Druidblue, a colour. The thought both intrigued him and sent a shiver down his spine. There had been 2 other recorded Druids given true names of colour.

Those two had been the most powerful Druids in the Order's 5300 year history.

Morghan the Bardic grade Druid ran into the chamber and up to the two waiting Druids. "T-the Ovates found the m-mark in the texts, High Druid. They say it is from the Circle of Thorns." he revealed, quickly and unevenly.

Druidraven looked at Druidblue. "Circle of Thorns? We are aware of this group and their location. We must resolve this. We must seek out the Imbalance remnants. It appears the Circle of Thorns is a starting point. Do you agree?"

"Indeed." Druidblue remarked. "It appears I am off to Paragon City."

_______________
(end of story)

Since I was asked, yes, of course, please feel free to post commentary on this thread concerning this story.
I hope you enjoyed this character Origin!


(The short story above is an original creation of Druidblue. All names and characters above are fictional. Any resemblance or use of existing names is purely accidental. The names Druidblue and Caydyn Corentyn are protected by sales trademark and are not permissible to use in other media without my written consent! Thanks!)

An overwhelming force of fire barraged the demon backwards, knocking it several steps in reverse before it regained a tentative balance. The pain echoed its path through his body, a reflection of the scream it bellowed. Regaining focus, it glared back at the Druid, who now stood fully alert and calm in front of it.

"Hhhss- whhatt iiss thhisss Drruid? Iitt iss hhopellesss." the Hyloth reasoned with the wise man.

"You are too late, I know my true name now demon. You cannot withstand my powers now, as bestowed upon me by nature Herself as Her guardian!" the Druid intoned loudly. "I will vanquish you, and you will know eternal suffering for the crimes you commit against the natural order of things!"

"Hss- hss- hss- hss." the demon gave a chilling form of laugh that made the skin crawl and ears ache. "TTrruue nammme? Hss- hss- hss. Nnnothhinng buttt mmythhh. Hss- hss- hss. Nnno hhummann llearrnns theirr trruue nammme. Youuu arrre hhummann, anndd cannnott knnnowww thhhisss thhhinnng." The demon seemed to relish in the thought of the Druid learning it knew this fact.

A sudden change in the light flashed through the area, rippling across everything as though waves on a sandy beach. Colours rippled through the air, dancing among themselves in swirls of energy as they encompassed the world in a prismatic hue. The demon started in confusion, quickly looking to the Druid to see what games he was playing. Confusion settled in on the Hyloth as he watched the Druid's robes begin to shimmer and glow, dim at first but ever brighter. Suddenly, the colour that had seeped through the air about them raced back in upon the Druid in an impossibly fast rush from every angle, slamming together in a soundless roar that lit up the world so bright the demon was blinded even after closing its eyes.

The light subsided, and the demon looked upon his foe once more. The Druid's deep green robes now swam with movement- or at least, the colours within were moving. Within the deep green, swirls of deep blue, black, brown and white mixed in patterns some too beautiful to behold and some too painful to view. The robe was almost glowing, emmiting a half foot aura of deep blue around the druid.

The Druid spoke icily, "I am Blue nan Druidh. Blue of the Druids. I am your vanquisher, unnatural spawn!"

The Hyloth Scaalnazum could not believe the human had found its true name! How was it possible? It roared in confusion and launched itself towards the Druid. "Sssoo bbeee itt, Drruuidblluue!" it screamed in rage. It flew towards the puny human, so angry it could no longer care to reason its way into a cautious attack. Within two feet of the human, it slammed into an invisible wall of wind.

The wind lifted the demon up and back, swirling in a circle as the tornado threw the beast into the closest menhir, shattering it. The demon began to push itself up as fire suddenly slammed it back down to the earth. A ring of scathing fire soared from ground, blistering his skin and causing skin to slide off in small bits and pieces. The demon had one last chance to glance back to the Druid, now standing just beyond the fire and looking down upon him.

"To your hell, beast." Druidblue commanded the demon. He rose his hand gently and fire consumed the grovelling demon, which began to scream so loud the Druid closed his eyes and reeled backwards a step, falling to his knees on the ground. He shook his head from the pain, and opened his eyes.

He sat in the center of the grove, the mist seeping through the air about him. He glanced quickly to his side, to the spot the beast had fallen. Through the haze of the mist he made out the form of a wolf slowly dematerializing into the fog. The last sight from the lupine was two blue eyes.

The doors burst open to the mediation chamber and a lanky figure ran in. "Druid Corentyn, the Hyloth is here! We need you now!" the Bard Morghan gasped, out of breath from his message run downstairs.

The Druid became aware of the sounds of the battle above him, echoing down from the upper levels of the castle. He had successfully completed his mental preparations. He was now ready to have a chance against the Hyloth. He stood and began to walk out of the room. "Morghan?" he quietly said the Bard's name.

"Y-yes?" Morghan quickly replied, following the Druid in his wake.

"It's Druidblue, now."

The doors closed behind them.


<concluded, next>

His world swam in a blur of bright white light, and the mist about him began to close in all around him. It thickened more and more until the world about him was nothing more than a haze of grey and the occasional tree branch above him or blade of tall grass below him. He stood, his dark robe outlining his figure, the deep green awash in the murky grey. A small noise alerted him to his right, and he turned quickly to face it. A lone wolf slowly strolled into view, emerging from the mist and fog as if born of it, and settled into a tentative stance a few feet before him. Unsure of what to do, he studied the wolf, but his eyes settled on one feature only- the wolf's eyes. They glared into his, piercing orbs of sapphire, however- they lacked irises. As unsettling as this was, he continued to study the blue spheres, almost hypnotically.

The two continued to stare at one another, unmoving, until a swirl of mist engulfed the wolf momentarily only to be revealed again as a hideous beast straight out of the legends of Hell. Standing no less than eight feet tall, the horribly mutated body bore scar upon scar and dripping scraps of skin all over itself. Blood oozed freely from seemingly all points on its torso, only to trickle back in through the skin at another point below. The eyes of this beast were no bright blue, but rather a conglomeration of fire, smoke and ash. Warped horns twisted about each other and pointed down into massive spear-like instruments at the neckline of the beast. Saliva dripped profusely from the jagged spikes it used as teeth in its vile maw.

The Druid's hand quickly turned upwards, as if to gently catch a falling leaf. "You shall return to the hell you belong in!" He proclaimed, as fire lanced up from his palm in a sudden foot tall incendiary explosion of flame. "Die, and return nature to its natural balance!" he screamed as he hurled the flame towards his foe.

The beast rocked back as the flame pummeled it, roaring in anguish and frustration, then shook itself as if to regather its focus, and charged forward at the tiny annoyance before it. As he approached his target, he tilted the points of his horn-spears towards the chest of his enemy and lunged forward. With a quick implosion of air, the Druid suddenly disappeared, reappearing ten feet to the side of the beast, as it skidded to a stop and roared again, even louder. Turning towards the robed figure, the beast more cautiously approached this time, ready for more trickery. "Hhhss-- iii knoww thessee trickkks, Drrruiid. Yoou willl nottt winnn..." it spat in the direction of the nature guardian.

Caydyn quickly thought through his options. He summoned the Druid fire again, throwing it in waves against the demon, which did not slow its gradual advance. He teleported again to hopefully disorient the beast, but it just turned instantly and continued its approach. At a loss, he began to unconsciously backpedal a step at a time. His mind raced on a solution to this mighty demon who would soon end his life- and most likely the lives of all the rest in the order, if he failed. As he took a further step, his boot caught the edge of a root emerging from the ground, obscured in the haze of the mist about him. He fell ungracefully onto his back, a gradual sense of hopelessness sinking in.

Suddenly, he caught sight of the wolf he saw earlier. It was behind the approaching demon, still staring straight into his soul with those eyes of blue energy. He lost himself in those eyes, seemingly no longer concerned with the lumbering beast that would soon impale him most gruesomely. A voice formed in his mind, on the edge of awareness, echoing his mentor. "...Accept the desires, wills, and gifts of Nature as She chooses to bestow upon you in whatever form they come..." Losing himself in the moment, he took nothing else in but those eyes. The world was replaced gradually by shades of blue, the rest of the scenery falling away until nothing but blue remained.

The Hyloth was only 10 feet from the helpless Druid, who had seemingly gone into shock. A smile of sorts crossed the maw of the demon as it fantasized of the impending kill. Such enjoyment could not be a replacement for the real thing. It continued along, slowly and steadily, almost within reach. The head tilted down, the horn-spears at the ready, it began its lunge forward.


<continued, part 3 next>

"P-pardon my intrusion, High D-d-druid Naen." an awkward boy's voice stammered slightly. The shadow emerged from inside the tangled shadows of the forest to the High Druid's left and approached him tentatively, constantly dipping his narrow head in a show of respect.

"Yes, what is it Morghan?" the old man sighed wearily. Yet another interruption during his meditations in the grove, he bemoaned. The Order was getting lax in its respect of the rituals.

"It... it is the Im-imbalance. The Ovates have f-finished their studies of the t-text and know they come n-now!" Morghan rapidly managed to stutter as he absently fiddled with the draw string on the collar of his blue hauberk.

In a seamless movement the elder rose, robes swirling about his legs as he strode rapidly towards the forest path.

"We must go. Now. Hurry," he forcefully commanded the young Bard. "Before it is too late."

The Druidic Council was already assembled in the castle's meeting hall upon High Druid Naen's arrival. Arriving at his place at the head of the table, he noted the nervous movements and worried glances of his colleagues as they fidgeted in their stone seats.

"We must be clear," he began, with no formalities. "The Bard Morghan informs me the Ovates' studies reveal imminent action on behalf of the Imbalance. Is this assured and verified?"

"It is both, High Druid Naen." An austere figure spoke up to his right. "We know now the undead army moves against us, this very moment. We may be too late to act now."

"Nonsense. It is never too late!" Naen thundered. He paused momentarily, dipping his head into his hand as he collected his thoughts. He could hear the ragged breathing of the other Druids at their places before him. How could they have waited too long to translate the texts? He sighed.

"Listen to me and listen well. I command these actions to be taken with all due haste." Naen settled his brown eyes on each Druid at the table in turn, making sure they caught each word. "The Bards are to gather in triples and guard every entrance to the castle. Hold each entry point as long as possible but they are to retreat to the sanctum stairs and are to follow the tunnels out into the forest to regroup at the Order grove.

The Ovates shall guard the inner sanctum, bottom entrance and top. Form pairs, and watch each other carefully. If odds become overwhelming, retreat as the Bards did. No heroics, do I make myself clear?" He paused only long enough to get a round of nods from the council.

"The Druids shall guard the library and defend the Druid Tomes. The Imbalance must not get ahold of the spells within or we have lost everything. It is up to us to make sure they do not find the entrance nor gain possession of the books."

He considered his last command carefully. "Which demon is the focal?" he glanced at the lead Ovate in attendance.

"High Druid, it is a Hyloth demon of the third tier. Scaalnazum by name. I'm afraid it is quite powerful indeed." Ovate Aehir nervously reported, concerning the leader of the undead army.

"Very well." The High Druid mused silently for a moment. His powers were not the strongest, but he had the most experience of the Order. His role in the coming battle was vital. But the question was, which role was his to take?

"I will confront the Hyloth, High Druid Naen." a steady, quiet voice exclaimed from the far edge of the massive granite table.

Naen started as his eyes settled on the voice. "Druid Corentyn, your offer is truly brave but not necessarily the best course of action. You are needed to defend the Tomes with the rest of the Order."

"I feel my abilites would be the best suited to defeat the demon, High Druid." The young Druid shifted in his chair, leaning in slightly to gain a better line of sight to the table head. His dark, forest green robe absorbed the ambient light and created a perpetual aura of shadow about him. "My skills are well known to be the strongest at this point in time. Allow me to serve the Order the best way I can, given my talents."

Naen sighed and considered his options. The young Druid was correct, but he was always saddened sending another to an inevitable doom. All present knew this was naught more than a diversionary tactic. "Caydyn," he began slowly, "you fully understand what your assignment would entail?" his eyes searched the Druid's face meaningfully.

Caydyn Corentyn nodded. "I am fully aware and can succeed." he replied with no hesitation, and perhaps a touch of arrogance.

"Very well. Everyone immediately proceed on the plan I outlined. Caydyn, you must seek the council of the Animal Oracle prior to your battle. Attend me." Naen stood as the rest of the Council quickly vacated to begin action on the High Druid's plan. The Druid Corentyn followed the elder wise man has he made his was through the meeting hall and through the castle interior. They arrived in the inner sanctum, and proceeded down a set of winding stairs into the depths of darkness.

As the light dimmed and their sight grew difficult, the High Druid lifted his hand and rolled it palm up. A clean, white light began to radiate from his palm, rays springing from his hand like a hundred thousand arrows into the heart of the darkness around them. They walked several hundred feet through the dank passageways prior to arriving at a great set of double doors. With no hesitation the elder Druid threw them open and turned to his disciple.

"Go. Perform the meditations. Find your true name and accept the desires, wills, and gifts of Nature as She chooses to bestow upon you in whatever form they come. Only then will you have a chance of success in your conflict." The High Druid looked into the eyes of his friend. "And...good luck."

Caydyn nodded, and clasped his hand against the older man's shoulder. "I won't fail the Order." He turned and strolled into the sacred meditation grove, the doors slipping shut behind him.

A vague haze drifted through the room, a cavernous location that really did not feel like indoors at all, but rather more like the Order's grove found outside in the heart of the forest. The floor was dirt, and vegetation was abundant everywhere you looked. Flowers and grass grew healthily and in the short distance a small grove of tall trees loomed high into the darkness above. Upon reaching the grove he passed through the sparse woods into a clearing where a menhir formation stood in a circular fashion, the stones old and worn, but clear of any moss or other disruptions.

The Druid Corentyn approached the center and with a practiced motion whisked his robe away as he smoothly settled into a kneeling position in the center of the meditation circle. Concentrating on his breathing, he slowed his heart rate and began to clear his mind of everything else in the world. The only thought in sharp focus was that of calling out to nature, of asking for guidance from the forces that control the very world about each living being. He sat this way, lost in himself and his lack of thoughts for several minutes.

He didn't even flinch when the first sounds of the battle began above him.

<continued part 2, next>

Please, I beg of you - make an original character. Too many people are falling into the trap of carbon-copy RP characters that are so cliche they should be have been in Equilibrium. You've got the desperado with a tragic past who takes in a grave voice and always uses a gun. You've got the ordinary-person-turned-superhero-through-some-accident and always seems to be coming to terms with their powers while wondering what their future holds. You've got the extra-dimensional entities or other races who come to Earth and comment about how silly Humans are.

Make up an original character. Not so much in how they look, but how they act. Why do we never see narcoleptic priests? How about a pill-obsessed doctor? (My friend actually played a guy like that - whenever someone even mentioned a bit of pain, he would offer him a pill.) What about Captain Testasterone who acts tough around everyone else, but is deathly afraid of women and acts like a sissy around them? Originality is the essence of roleplaying.

i always appreciate when someone heals me...
when someone tries to steal my kill i don´t really care as long as the mobs are not grey to the player...maybe i start a rp discussion but i don´t play that kind of char. when they are far above my lvl and the mob must be grey for them i see it as griefplay and when it happens more then once with the same player i think of it as intended by him/her and petition it to a gm...i think thats the way i would handle it

Coming from both EQ and Daoc, where I played on RP servers I just hope that Virtue stays the course. I saw on both servers I played on the steady decline of the Roleplaying. As more and more people begain to play the games on those servers, the roleplaying numbers sadly became out numbered by those who didn't. I am by no means the RP police, but having a RP server that I know I can go to and not always here the dood speek, or hear about the real life for a little bit, is all part of the mystic of a game of this nature.

Anyway enjoy all
I will be joining you all in a few days

Very Clever!!
I liked it! Are you planning on posting follow up "chapters" or looking to start a string for "origins"? I also had alot of fun with a history, but didn't want to just start dropping Origins, without permission, or appropriately start up a new string.

See I totally bogle at the whole "kill steal" thing... I mean they've already set up the system to deliver XP and drops according to Damage dealt. If I run up and do the Coupe De Grace on a Red (High danger to me) My damage will be peanuts compared to what brought the baddy down. So I'll get maybe 1 or 2 xp, they'll take the lions share and the odds of me getting the drop will be less that 2%. The only thing that get's hurt is maybe someone's pride, and what better introduction to start some great RP'ing! I've had people rush in to try and "get a piece" if they're over their heads, I'll step back and laugh as I let them take the agro (focus of the attacks)

I would say, make a key binding that says "Need help?" and wait for their answer. People who look like they might be about to die could have a row full of heal inspirations. As a defender it was nice to be able to heal people if it looked like they were gonna bite it. You help them win, and you dont kill steal.

That's a shame, I couldn't login with my name on virtue, so I was forced to create on Gaurdian. I was hoping to play more of a character than arcade with you fine gentleman/ladies

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what do you mean by "role playing " server ?

[/ QUOTE ]

A server where everyone agrees to ROLE play thier characters. No OOC chatting (at least a bare minimum of it) and absolutely no "leet".
A place where we can be immersive as we like and not get razzed about it.

[ QUOTE ]
Though since Virtue wasn't up for the head start, quite a few folks have gone to Guardian instead as a sort of secondary RP server.

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Virtue was up immediately with the other servers when they came online at noon CST.

o, lol.. i saw the ---------'s and thought "man... that's a huge sig!" sorry.. you can delete my posts..

sorry to be off topic... but that signature is a BIT much

The server that the majority of the roleplayers decided to go to, so we could find more of us like-minded players.

It's not Official, it was just decided by the Beta Roleplaying Community to play on Virtue

what do you mean by "role playing " server ?

Virtue here I come.

Virtue was up. I played on it for 4 hours at today.