Sideline

Apprentice
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  1. Inside a building somewhere in the Isles

    A tall man stood behind a bar arranging drinks before him. A small book on bartending lay open next to the first of the drinks. The man, wearing black slacks, a white dress shirt with silver tie and sleevless vest in white trim, seemed to be teaching himself to mix drinks. His long black hair fell to his shoulders, broken only by the tips of his pointed ears.

    A quick beep followed by two more quick beeps broke his concentration. He slid his hand into his vest and pulled out a small cell phone. Checking the caller ID he answered, "Than, Speak."
    "Marshall Brass, yes I've done work for him before."
    "I see."
    "What equipment do you need?"
    "no, take Shadow with you"
    "because I said so"
    "give a report when you are done"
    "right, good luck. Than out." and with that he closed the phone and slid it back into his vest pocket. Turning back to he drinks he continued to practice making them.

    =======================================

    On the docks in Port Oaks

    Three figures stood upon the docks near the ferry. One was a simple Arachnos warrior, decked out in traditional armor. The other two were nearly stark opposites. The one on a cell phone was average height with bright silver hair. His silver sunglasses hid his eyes from the setting sun. A white sleeveless leather trenchcoat covered blue jeans and a black t-shirt. The shirt bore a red pentacle on the chest. The other fellow was tall and heavily muscled. His skin was coal black. A top knot of pure white hair rose from his otherwise perfectly bald head. A pair of darker sunglasses rested on pointed ears. He wore black jeans and a dark blue t-shirt under a sleevless leather motorcycle jacket. The t-shirt proclaimed in bold print, "I AM NOT A DROW".

    The one on the phone ended his conversation and turned to the Arachnos operative. Lighting a cigarette he blew the smoke in the operative's face, "the old man says yes, so tell Brass that myself and one other will be to see him. Oh, and tell him not to panic at the sight of my...ally. I can keep him controlled."

    The operative nodded and hurried off to pass on the message. The dark skinned man turned towards the other, "he thinks that helmet protects his thoughts. The gullible simpleton. So Thannatos actually agreed to help these fools?"

    Silver Shade nodded, "yeah and he wants me to take Shadow with me." He dropped his now finished smoke into the water. Turning back to his friend and ally Psi Shadow, he sighed. Psi laughed softly, "good thing that freak likes you." Silver's grimace only caused Psi to laugh harder. Waiting for his friend to finish laughing, Silver lit another smoke. Finally containing his humor, Psi turned to his friend, "Well, I wish you the best of luck. Where did you leave that one at any way."

    Silver took a long drag from his cigarette and nodded up the hill, "where else, the Arena"
  2. Bladewolf shrugged, "Skylight, vent shaft, either way is fine with me." He walked over to the shaft and looked at cover. It was a grate that was welded onto the outside of the shaft, but the shaft itself was made to be removed, probably to allow someone to fix or repair the air conditioning unit. A large fan was just above the opening of the shaft, which looked like it would be moved with the shaft itself. A large opening just beneath the fan led into a vent though from here Bladewolf could not see the end of the passageway.

    He then walked over to the nearest skylight. Carefully peering over the edge, he saw a group of three council soldiers walking along a catwalk. They seemed to be patrolling and shortly walked out of the young warrior's line of sight. The skylight itself was made to open and the "door" seemed to be large enough to accomadate all of them. There was a simple padlock on the latch.

    Returning to the others, Bladewolf informed them of his findings. "I can see the advantages of either route really," he said, "though I myself am partial to the skylight. In all fairness though, I have been accused of being brash and reckless, so what would you two like to do?"
  3. Sideline

    Dragonlance

    lol, at least it's an animated movie, could you imagine her as goldmoon in a live action flick?
  4. Sideline

    Dragonlance

    Does anyone have a link to where the video's are posted? I'm very curious as to what this horrible animation looks like. Like many others, this series was what drew me into the genre in the first place.
  5. As the woman landed on the roof next to them, Bladewolf turned toward her. He smiled amiably towards her, "Hi, I'm Bladewolf. This is Templar. I'd offer to shake your hand, but..." Bladewolf nodded towards her flaming hand.

    "We apreciate the offer of assistance. I am afraid I don't know too much about the Council. No alarms on the skylights? yeah, you'd think they would have what with the number of heroes that can fly and what not. " Bladewolf turned back towards the building.

    "Seems we have our team. What say we show these Council what it means to take on the heroe's of Paragon city, hmm?." He grinned impulsively and with a strong leap, soared towards the offending building.

    Halfway to his destination, a voice sounded inside his head, "Seems you have found powerfull allies young wolf. That is fortunate, mabye they can help curb your brash nature."

    Bladewolf grinned a little ruefully, "ahh sensei, you worry too much." The voice sounds again only in his head, "Do I young wolf? Tell me, did you check to see if the roof was still unoccupied?" Bladewolf's smile slipped a little as he landed, quickly scanning the roof.

    What ever anyone's opinion of the Council was, they were at least smart enough to place a guard on the roof. A Council soldier wearing the outfit of a Penumbra soldier and carrying an SMG was rushing towards him from across the way. Sighing in frustration, Bladewolf lept towards the man. He knew he had to defeat him quickly, before he sounded an alarm and brought the whole of the building ontop of them.

    The soldier, suprised that the intruder would leap towards him, stopped and slowly brought up his weapon. That moments hesitation allowed Bladewolf to get in close. His mystical blade appearing in his hands as he landed, Bladewolf went into a spinning crouch and bringing the blade straight up, caught the soldier just under his right rib cage, slicing through to the left shoulder and lifting the man up off the ground. Quickly following the initial attack, Bladewolf brought his sword across in two quick slashes, hitting the Penumbra agent twice before he hit the ground. Using the flat of the blade, he then struck the soldier across the head, taking him out of the fight.

    Bladewolf sighed again as the familiar voice sounded inside his head, "Remember young wolf...", "I know, I know, " Bladewolf interupted, "less brash, more caution. I will remember sensei." The voice chuckled softly then went quiet.
  6. Bladewolf smiled up at Amberk, "no, I think that about covers it. No more charging through doors. Thank you again for your help."

    With a final wave, Amberk silently flew off. Bladewolf turned back to the diagram drawn of the building. "Hmm, do you think you could fit into one of those ventilation shafts? Otherwise we'll have to go into a skylight, and those usually lead into rooms full of people. Well, at least they do in the movies. Plus, it's more likely to be alarmed than the vent shaft is. I've had enough of the alarms for today." Bladewolf grinned.

    "Yes, if we can fit your armor through a vent shaft mabye we can take at least he top floor by suprise. What do you think?"
  7. Bladewolf grasped the newcomers hand in a firm grip, "It's good to meet you too Amberk."

    Taking a couple steps toward the roof edge he looked back at his to companions. Placing one foot on the edge of the building he gestured towards the one where the Council had nearly sent him to the hospital. "So how do we do this. With more stealth yes, but do we go in the same way?" Shrugging he continued, "Or do we find a new path?"

    ((sorry for the short post, RL is a touch busy atm))
  8. Bladewolf again smiled aplogetically at his large companion. Leaning back against the wall behind him, he closed his eyes as the last of his wounds healed themselves. "Yeah, I've got no idea what they would be doing here. Though I will admidt, I am fairly new to this 'hero' thing and the whole, figuring out what the enemy is doing, is still a little beyond me."

    Bladewolf pushed himself up to his feet and walked across the roof to look at the offending building. He looked back towards the Templar, "I've probablly watched every movie with counter espionage teams, and insertion points, and what not. But that's the experiance I have with that. I usually just walk in and fight my way to the objective." Sighing, he sat down on the edge of the building.

    "Ok," he said, anticipation of the coming fight creeping into his voice, "when we go back in, I'll follow your lead. So, do we wait for others to answer your call, or do we go in ourselves and hog all the fun."
  9. Bladewolf groaned softly as Templar pressed against his wounds. Shifting himself slightly, he grasped the large arm and weakly pushed it away. Coughing slightly he whispered, "wait. let me....let me concentrate"

    Closing his eyes he focused himself and with a small mystical green glow, the wounds he had recieved seemed to close. The more serious ones closed first, and quickly. The smaller ones reacted as well, closing before Templar's eyes though not as quickly. Grinning ruefully Bladewolf looked up at his large friend, "yeah, my teacher always does say I'm too brash for my own good."
  10. [ QUOTE ]
    Can I still enjoy buttkickin ?

    [/ QUOTE ]

    most definetly, I heartily recommend it. Enjoying something as pure and beautiful as laying waste to those who wronged you is a good thing
  11. [ QUOTE ]
    I'm having some difficulty following as well, although I'd like to think that I am following...

    Anyway, I think people have always been like this, Grey. Just trying to figure things out for the sake of knowing.

    And if they can't figure things out, they make stuff up.

    [/ QUOTE ]

    And there my friend, I think you have just defined "science"

    Seriously though, as with rats and sentience and thought. Well, wouldn't that fall under how you defined "sentience"?

    Websters defines sentience as
    1 : a sentient quality or state
    2 : feeling or sensation as distinguished from perception and thought

    ok, so now we have to define "sentient". Again, Websters
    1 : responsive to or conscious of sense impressions <sentient beings>
    2 : aware
    3 : finely sensitive in perception or feeling

    Multiple meanings to one word. If we were to take just the first meaning of sentient, then it would stand to reason that rats are sentient. If they smell food, a sense impression, they get hungry, a response to a sense impression.

    Are they "aware". again, define aware. are they aware of their surrondings? yes, are they aware of self, and here I am going to have to say, I don't know. I don't know enough about the rat psyche to make that claim. I do know that a great many animals that were thought to be NOT sentient because they had no self awareness were found to be showing attitudes and behaviors similar to pride and narcissism. Two traits thought to be only found in sentient creatures. (mind you I saw this report/documentary a few years ago and do not remember the origional source. I will be scouring the net trying to find information to either support or disprove my above statement. What ever I find, I will post my results.)

    My point though, is many of our beliefs and ideas stem from what and how we define things. And that, Webster's dictionary aside, is very subjective. To me, a peacefull day is one spent at home with my son. Which is to say, chasing him around the house as he learns to walk, changing diapers, calming tantrums, etc. To many other people, that doesn't sound peacefull at all and would be counter to their ideal of a peacefull day. So how do we choose who's defination of what belief do we use?
  12. Throwing a quick grin at his armored companion, Bladewolf opened the door. A single lightbulb lit the top of a metal stairway twisting it's way down into the building itself.

    Shrugging, Bladewolf started down the stairs, attempting to keep as quiet as possible. He strained his senses, alert for any possiblity that the stairs were occupied by others than just him and his companion. Finding no one in their trek down the flight of stairs, the hero's came upon a simple metal door as well as another set of stairs heading down even further.

    Bladewolf placed his ear to the door, listening for sounds on the other side. He grinned as voices, indestinct yet becoming clearer as he focused on them.

    "Archon Talliver said that the Center himself ordered this operation", a gruff male voice said.
    He was responded to by another male voice, this one softer yet still as structured, "Archon Talliver has an inflated sense of self. You know that Bill. Me, I'm just glad he's not the one in charge of this."
    "Yeah," replied the first voice, "I hear that Tom. I can't believe we got chosen for this. Of all the Council's troops they had to choose from, they chose our platoons."

    Bladewolf stepped away from the door and turned to his new friend. "It's council. There are a couple of their goons just inside the door here. What say you, we go in there, bust some heads, find out what's going on and stop this little party the've got planned?" And without waiting for an answer, he turned back to he door and slowly opened it.

    As soon as the door was even cracked, alarm klaxon's blared throughout the building. Bill and Tom, two Penumbra Elite Adjutents, lieutenants imbuded with special "super soldier" formula as well as highly trained military specialists, reacted instantly, Bill scanning the area around him as Tom readied his communicator, requesting a situation report. Bill's hand on Tom's arm stopped him though, and when Tom looked at his friend, Bill pointed to the opening door. The door being opened by a very abashed looking Bladewolf.

    Bladewolf stood in the doorway, his trenchcoat pulled back to allow for easier movement and his magical sword, a long straight blade with an edge on one side, was held in a loose two handed grib infront of him. The two lieutenants looked at each other, back at Bladewolf and each tossed a small device towards the hero.

    Bladewolf recognized the grenades for what they were and started to step back, intending to use the wall as cover. He started to shout a warning to his friend, "Grena..." was all he was able to get out though. Both detonated at the same time, the combined blast throwing Bladewolf across the landing to the far wall. The young warrior had taken the brunt of the blast, and shrapnel had tore through his armor like a hot knife through butter. Leaving a small red streak, He slid down the wall to the landing below.
  13. [ QUOTE ]
    If you believe that logic, may I assume that you also believe that "1+1=2" also holds true? ( I believe that there is a "proof" of that theory accessible to most community college students (judgeing from my community college time) Anyway, It was in high school that a math teacher first presented me with the concept of 1+1=3. Admitedly the math teacher was teaching drivers education at the time. Nonetheless he was the first person to present the concept of synergy to me. Having fallen into a carreer as a pharmacy technician, I have seen up front the dependancy of synergy.

    I believe synergy is very important in such philospophical equations, because 1) It disproves in an "unalienable" proof that 2 equal things do not necessarily add up to twice one thing. The other thing it prooves is that we don't necessarily know how math or any of the "infallible truths" work. I mean honestly if we can't ever work out "1+1" Then our whole purpose is pointless and not as sentient as we thought.



    [/ QUOTE ]

    hmm, I think I understand where you are coming from but am confused. Yes, math is the universal language because of how we define "numbers". if we call this number of sticks [I I] three, and this number of sticks [I I I I] five, then three plus three equals five. Note that these numbers assume no decimal point and no integers.

    As for 1+1=3, I'd love to see the math teacher's proof or even theory on this. Seriously, I am curious. I am more than willing to accept or at least in all honesty peruse the information he has. Until then I will unfortunitly have a hard time accepting it just based on your say so. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you are not correct, I'm saying I don't have the information needed to make an informed decision on the matter.

    I do understand synergy, especially where medicine is concerned. I am paramedic and have had (though admitedly not as much as you have as a pharm tech have probably had) some training in what to watch for in how medicine's react to each other. But that is, I believe, chemistry compared to mathmatics. Yes, math is used in all things, even chemistry. The difference between say, how morphine sulfate and phenergan react together in the human body, and 1+1=? though are greatly differant.

    Finally, please good fellow player, don't assume that just because this is a roleplaying computer game that the players are not up to the task of debating such a subject as this. Does the possible fact that not many if any of the so called "renowned" in the feild will read this detract from the ideas presented? I do not think it does. Thank you for listening.
  14. Bladewolf took his hand back and without realizing he was doing it, flexed it a few times. The hand didn't hurt, he just wasn't prepared for the warrior's incredible size. Seeing him from above truely didn't do the man justice.

    Clearing his throat Bladewolf continued, "umm yeah I believe so. I've been picking up the sounds of people moving around down in this building. The only thing is, they sound like they are marching, you know, everyone walking in step and the like." He turned back to the door across the way, "and there is that distinctive smell of...gun oil. I don't know, it just all feels...wrong somehow."

    The young warrior turned back to the large warrior. "I was about to check it out. My," and here Bladewolf seemed to pause, as if attempting to find the right word, "..guide, tells me I am too brash, to reckless." Bladewolf arched an eyebrow questioningly, "care to join me?"
  15. Bladewolf quietly moved across the rooftop, the sounds of soldiers marching in the rooms below him. Moving as quickly and quietly as he could, the young warrior approached the only door visible. As he reached for the door however, his ghostly mentor stopped him.

    "Hold a minute young wolf, it seems you are about to have company." Bladewolf looked back at his teacher then towards the sky where the appiration was pointing. Seeing the large silhouette coming towards him, he immediately pushed back the sides of his trenchcoat and assumed a battle stance. His legs braced just further apart than shoulder length. His hands held at his sides, the left one open, the right appearing to hold something that was not there.

    As the figure neared though, Bladewolf recognized the large armored warrior from the fight on the street below. Sighing softly Bladewolf relaxed his posture, "scared the bejinkers outta me".

    The ancient warrior chuckled, "I will leave you now young wolf. Have fun with your new friend and remember, search for what it means to be a true hero". With that, the warrior faded from view.

    Bladewolf nodded to the vanishing ghost as the large warrior landed across from him. Extending his hand in a wave he stepped forward, "Hi, um. I'm Bladewolf"
  16. The ancient warrior merely looked upon his young charge and waited. The young man stepped back away from the edge. "Ok sensei, he won. He spared the last "spider's" life and I will admidt it was nice speech he gave to the arachnos operative. What I don't see is how that was supposed to teach me about being a hero."

    "You observe, but you do not see. Perhaps the fault is mine young wolf. Perhaps something more hands on will benifit more." The ghostly guide's words sounded only in Bladewolf's head as his mentor turned to look around them. "Stretch out your senses young wolf, tell me, what do you...detect."

    Bladewolf closed his eyes and focused his senses of smell and hearing. After a couple minutes he opened his eyes and turned to the ancient warrior, "There is a slight chill in the air, it will probably be a cold night. The sounds of people moving all around us can be heard. Those closest to us smell of gun oil and....excitment?"

    The appiration nodded his head, "Good young wolf, good. Where are these that smell of gun oil and excitment?"

    Bladewolf closed his eyes for a second, sniffing the air, then opened them and pointed to the building across the street. "There sensei, they are in that building there."

    "And what do you think they are doing in there, young wolf?" said the warrior of old.

    Bladewolf grinned, "Only one way to find out" and with that, took a quick run and lept off the edge of the building, crossing the distance in a single bound. As the young warrior crossed the light of the full moon, two small stones clattered down into the street below.

    The ancient warrior merely sighed before floating across the distance, "Always so brash that one."
  17. On a rooftop across the way, the ghostly appiration of an ancient warrior pointed down towards the armored figure carving a path of destruction through the Arachnos soldiers. He spoke, his unearthly voice ringing only in the head of his companion, an average height warrior with dark hair wearing red and black leather armor and a full length black trenchcoat.

    "Look there young wolf, see the warrior defeating his foes? Tell me, is that a hero?"

    The young man looked up at his ghostly guide, "I don't understand sensei", the man looked back at the fight below, watching as the warriors sword removed the head of an Arachnos soldier, "I mean, he's winning right?"

    The ancient warrior merely smiled softly and shook his head, "Being the strongest or most skilled does not make one a hero young wolf. Tell me, is Statesman a hero because he is the strongest. What then of Manticore, or Blue Sheild. Are they then not truly heroes because they are overshadowed by their stronger companion?"

    The young man shook his head, "Well no, I mean yes they are heroes and I know a hero fights to protect others and what not."

    "You say the words, but do not truly understand them." the ancient warrior said, placing his non-coporeal hand on Bladewolf's shoulder, "If you are to unlock the full potential of the blade, young wolf, you must learn. I will guide you, but you must discover the answers for yourself. Watch the outcome of this battle young one."

    "Yes sensei," the now confused warrior said as he turned his attention back to the fight below.
  18. ((I'm posting this here mainly to get feedback, like/dislike and why, tips on writing better, etc. yes, I know my paragraphs and what not are horrible. My mother the english teacher is very disappointed in me ))

    Bladewolf: An Origin

    Prologue:
    It was an ancient time, before heroes roamed freely in the city of tomorrow. It is a land of darkness, serving a dark god. A time when creatures of horrible power tormented those merely trying to survive in the land. One small village fought against the dark powers. One small village, secluded in a valley, protected by mountains on all sides withheld against the tides of evil threatening to overrun them.

    In this village they served ancient spirits, powerful animals of the natural world. The Hart, a noble and gentle healer. The Hawk, a swift and vigilint defender. The Monkey, a crafty and daring scout. The Beaver, an ingenious and powerfull builder. All animal spirits had their followers, all guided their worshipers and the worshipers venerated all equally. All but one. One spirit chose champions, and only a few at a time. These few, these swift, powerfull and loyal warriors, these packmates were the few who followed only one spirit and only one spirit guided them. The Wolf, the fiercest and most gentle, the pack that guards, protects, and serves the village. His small gathering of followers were the blade kept the village safe from the darkness.

    In this pack there was one. He was not alpha though he could have been had he chosen to. He was tall, muscular, and agile. His black hair just starting to change to grey at the sides, he had seen many battles, fought many wars to keep the village safe. He was dying.

    The tides of darkness had crashed down the valley and as they had before, they broke on the dam that was the Wolfpack. This time however, the dam had also cracked, had nearly broken under the unrelenting strain. The waves of shadow that invaded the valley were as the whole of the ocean descending down upon the village. Even the strongest dam must crack under that pressure. After days of battle, uninterupted fighting, the forces of darkness had fled, so beaten, so defeated as to never return, but the victory was bitter indeed.

    The final packmate barely managed to stagger into the village before finally collapsing. The village elders ran to his side but they could see it was too late. How he was alive they could not understand. His wounds were great and he had lost too much blood. He pulled his sword to his chest, clutching it close to him. The elders gathered close, preparing to give the noble warrior's soul his passing to the fields of the Wolf. With a strength that suprised them the warrior grasped one of the elder's hands, stopping the ritual. His final words, would echo in he minds of the elders for their remaining years. "no, no I will not go. I gather my strength, my soul and place it in this sword. The village will be protected, the forces of darkness will be fought. The Wolf is with me, I make my sacrifice willingly, I do this for the pack, not just my brothers who fell, but the whole the village....my pack." With these words the light in the warriors eyes faded and his grip on the elders arm fell slack.

    The warriors body had died but his sword glowed with new light, as bright as if a sun shone from withen it's iron shell. When the light faded a faint howl could be heard in the distance as the sword fell to the earth. A howl of despair and yet celebration. All in the village new the Wolf spirit was mourning the loss of his last follower and yet celebrating their victory over darkness. Only the elders knew that it also indicated the Wolf's blessing of his followers wish. The sword was kept safe in the village, being used only in times of great danger. Those that weilded it saying a presence seemed to guide their actions, their attacks and parries. Only the village elders knew the truth, knew that the ancient warrior still guarded the village.

    Time passes as time will and the small village passed from the land. The final villager, the last elder, great great grandson of one of the original elders, placed the sacred blade upon the village square. Whispering his thanks to the ancient spirit and the great Wolf, the elder sat beneath the sword and closed his eyes, never to open them again.

    As the centuries passed, the village was discovered, the blade removed. Through the years many have weilded the sacred blade though only in defense of home or family. The true origins of the blade lost to history, only it's wielders knew the truth. After many centuries of wandering the blade came to Paragon city where it would stay for years, lost in an exhibit of ancient weapons in the back of the museam.

    Today:
    Chris Meyer and his younger sister Sarah had only wanted to spend the day together. With Chris away at college most of the time he didn't get to see his favorite sibling very often. The decision to see the museam was a random one, made at a whim while walking through Atlas Park. It seemed a great end to a great day as they both loved history and the new displays recently opened up would be enjoyable to both. At just over six feet tall and very athletic, the Paragon University backup star running back usually didnt have to worry about the thugs and common criminals who wandered the streets. The thugs normally went after easier prey, ones that weren't likely to fight back. The twenty-two year old had not been mugged for years. His sister was not nearly as an imposing figure and with her young looks and beautiful features one would think she would be a common target to the local gangs. However her quick wits, and quicker feet had kept her out of trouble so far. For the seventeen year old high school senior, life couln't be better. She would graduate next month and had already recieved a gymnastics scholarship for Paragon University so she could be closer to her favorite brother. Both her brothers actually but neither one were close to their twenty-four year old eldest brother.

    It was actually Sarah who noticed the group of skulls following them into the museam. She brought Chris's attention to them and for reasons he could not identify, a dark cold chill ran down his spine. He did not know why, but he knew they were after him and Sarah, and by the look of the Bone Daddy that led, them what they wanted wasn't merely the time of day.

    Grabbing Sarah's arm he quickly led them towards the door, hoping that by getting outside they might encounter a wandering hero or even a squad of Longbow agents. As if sensing his intent, three of the skulls crossed over and stood directely in their path.
    "where ya going guys" grinned one them, his eyes mocking them behind his skull mask. When those eyes fell on Sarah the grin turned into a dark leer that made her shiver with fear. The other two behind the speaker chuckled darkly as the speaker again addressed the two, "tell ya what bud, how about we make a deal. You leave, no harm no foul, and the chicky stays with us. What do ya say bud".

    Chris had positioned himself infront of Sarah and chose not to answer the skull as he tried to watch the three infront of him and the other two who were now circling behind them. He could feel Sarah pressed hard against his back nearly shivering with fear. It was so thick Chris felt he could almost smell it.

    The speaker had stopped grinning by now and was starting to get angry, "come on bud, don't be stupid. Save yourself and leave the girl or you will get dead and we'll take what we want from her anyway." Chris felt his anger rising at their words, at what they desired to do to his sister but he knew he probably could not stop them, not with a Bone Daddy leading them. He quickly looked over his shoulder at his sister, "Sarah...." The Bone Daddy finally growled in impatiance, and with a voice dripping with shadow ordered, "Enough, kill the boy and take the girl." At this the three skulls in front of them drew small weapons, an axe, a knife, and the speaker drew forth a pistol. The skull standing with the Bone Daddy brought forth a shotgun, it's tip sawed off to make it easier to hide beneath his black jacket.

    Acting faster than the skulls expected Chris whipped around and shouting for Sarah to run, grabbed her and pushed her in front of him, both of them running deeper into the museam. The harsh retort of the pistol firing ringing sharply in his ears Chris barely felt the bullet enter his side, just above the left kidney. His only concern now was to get Sarah away from them. Unfortunitly it was getting late and the museam was all but empty, the visitors having left and the employees were few and far between. Sarah was running in front of him and he could hear her gasping for breath between her sobs of fear. She would not last much longer before she collapsed. He needed to get her out of here but the skulls were not far behind. Two of their number had stopped to deal with a security guard who had come to see what the noise was and Chris did not expect them to be merciful. Almost on cue with that thought a voice rang out, screaming in pain and fear and Chris new the guard did not prevail against the cruel thugs.

    With the gaurds scream, Sarah sobbed louder and stumbled, almost falling. Chris caught his sister and pulling her into a side hall again pushed her infront of him. Together they ran to the back of the museam and into the weapons display. Praying to find something to use against the skulls he quickly scanned the room while pushing Sarah down behind one of the displays. Motioning for her to be quiet he quickly spun around as one of the skulls entered the display room. With a grin and malice in his eyes he turned back and shouted for his friends, "Hey, found em. they is in the weapon room". The skull flip tossed his knife and catching it by the handle walked towards the two. The other skulls slowly started filtering in behind him.

    Desperately reaching out for anything he could use, Chris was suprised to find his hand connecting with the handle to a long thin sword, the grip large enough for two hands but the weapon was light enough to be used one handed. The blade was long and straight and seemed to have an edge on only one side. Grasping the weapon tightly Chris brought it in front of him. Almost immediately the pain in his side lessened and then vanished completely. A soft voice echo'ed softly in Chris' head, "Easy wolf brother, I am with you." Of their own accord, Chris' hands readjusted on the hilt, his right hand just underneath the cross guard and his left just below halfway down.

    The skulls laughed as they saw their prey holding the blade before them, still figuring on an easy mark who would try some feeble defense before he died. Just like so many others that had fallen before them. The Bone Daddy, walking into the weapon room last merely grinned. "Finish this." he ordered. The voice in his head spoke to Chris again whispering patience, "Rest easy wolf brother, I will guide you. These fools do not realize that the hunted has become the hunter. When I give word, let me be your actions, guide your movements. Your sister will be safe, those who threatened her will not be." Chris could only nod briefly as small beads of nervous sweat broke out all over his body.

    As the closest skull approached the voice in his head nearly shouted, "Now" and time seemed to slow for Chris. He felt his body react on it's own and he suddenly sprang forward, towards the skull with the axe, just behind the closest one. Swinging the blade straight across Chris felt it cut into and through the axe weilder. Continuing the cut Chris used the momentum to spin around and bringing the blade in a two handed grip straight back to him, the blade edge side down pointed directly out from his body, stabbed straight into the knife weilding skull he passed initially. He felt the blade stab directly through the gang members body and quickly pulled the blade back out.

    Chris turned around and faced the three remaining skulls. The one with the pistol who had spoken initially yelped, "Oh [censored] and brought his pistol up with a sharp bang and the bullet sped towards it's target. Bringing the sword up diagnally from lower left to upper right, Chris both felt and heard the sword catch the bullet and deflect it harmlessly to the ceiling. Going with the movement of the parry, Chris stepped forward, spun around and dipped the sword blade low as he buckled his knees. Fully extending his legs at the end of the spin he brought the blade up into the skull, cutting him from crotch to chin and sending him flying up and back to land some feet behind where he was standing.

    Still not quite sure excately what was happening Chris could only watch in horror as the skull in the black jacket with the shot gun fired, point blank into his chest. Growling with the sudden harsh pain, Chris stepped forward and slashed the sword quickly across the fallen, back and forth. Stepping back the gang banger brought the shotgun up again. Before he could fire Chris raised the sword up and with all the strength he could muster brought it back down again, slightly angled to cut into the skull's right shoulder and through to his left hip. The skull fell backwards, his shotgun firing uselessly into the floor.

    Slowing to catch his breath, Chris only barely registered the deepening shadows in the room. Until, that is, a blast of pure shadow threw him through a display of spears and sent him rolling across the room to stop against the far wall. Growling Chris regained his feet and faced the Bone Daddy who was by now, radiating pure shadow. Rage echoed in the last Skull's voice as he cried out, "YOU WILL DIE BOY, I WILL FEED YOUR CORPSE TO THE GRAVE CROWS AND YOUR SOUL TO THE PITS OF DARKNESS". Jumping quickly over the next blast of shadow, Chris closed the distance to the Bone Daddy faster than he expected and brought the sword to bear again and again, cutting into the skull. Shadow swirled around them both obscuring sight. Finally the darkness simply melted away and Chris stood there, amazed he was alive and in shock of what he had seen, what he had done.

    A familier voice cried out in fear and relief and as Chris turned to the sound he was suddenly wrapped in a tight hug. Sobbing against his chest, Sarah held him tighter as he wrapped his arms around her trying to whisper encouregment and telling her it would be alright. The sword in his hand vanished almost as suddenly as it had seemed to appear, yet Chris knew, if he needed it, it would be back with merely a thought.

    After she had cried herself out, Sarah stepped back and gasped, "Chris, your chest!". Grimicing, only now remembering the shotgun blast to the chest, Chris started to apologize when she continued, "You're not hurt!". Looking down Chris realized she was right. The hole was still in his shirt, but his skin was unbroken. He knew the slug had penetrated, he had initially felt blood flowing down his chest, but now it was as if he had never been injured.

    Sarah had stepped back and was looking around at the others, and noticing something strange, pointed it out to Chris. "Look Chris, the gang members. None of them are cut either." Chris could only blink in confusion as adrenaline started to leave him. His muscles aching now, he took Sarah by the hand and started to pull her towards the door, "Come on sis. Longbow or the cops should be here soon and I....I really don't want to talk with anyone right now."

    Walking quickly the two left, exiting just before Longbow Wardens landed at the steps, drawn by the alarm that had sounded when the display of spears was broken. Inside they found a security guard from the museam dead near the entryway. From the way he was positioned with the look of fear on his face, to the unnatural whitening of his hair the two Wardens surmised the poor fellow had died by shadow, or negative energy. Continuing into the back of the museam the officers found the five skulls, all alive, all unconscious with no marks on them. Tagging them for extracation to the Zig prison, the Wardens could only guess as to what happened in here.

    Epilogue:
    Back at the University dorm he called home, Chris could only sit on his bed and wonder excatly what had happened today. Sarah was now at home sleeping and he felt horrible about hiding from his parents. The holes in his shirt could be diffacult to explain. Concentrating briefly, Chris "summoned" the sword. It appeared easily in his hand and upon concentrating again, vanished.

    The air infront of Chris wavered briefly then solidified, sort of, into a ghostly image of a tall warrior with long dark hair, dressed in ancient leather armor. Thinking he should be suprised, or at least stunned Chris merely sat back and felt he knew this appiration. "Hello wolf brother:" the familier voice sounded in his head. Chris sighed softly and proceded to have a conversation with the ghost. "I take it I have you to thank for both the sword and saving my sister's life?"

    "indeed wolf brother, I did step in. You are not properly trained yet and I had to ensure your survival. I also could not let my pack sister come to harm, for if I did, what kind of wolf would I be", the voice chuckled.

    Shaking his head in confusion Chris asked, "wolf brother, pack sister. I don't understand, what are you talking about?". The ancient warrior smiled, "let me tell you a story young wolf....."

    A couple hours later, Chris sat up a little straighter, "So what you are saying is, no one can see or hear you but me. You will train me in the use of this 'bladewolf' and I'll be expected to 'hunt' prey or badguys in some long tradition of protection family and home in the style of wolves protecting pack and den. My strength and speed will increase as well as my senses heightening to where I can smell strong emotions, hear faint sounds, and see great distances. And all this came about because the promise you made to your 'pack' was stronger, more magical than you expected. "yes, that seems to cover just about all of it." the ghost warrior smiled. "hunh" exclaimed Chris, "why me?" "You have been chosen by the Great Wolf, and he has placed his aspect in you. If you know what to look for it shines brightly in this city of shadow." "Oh. Ok." Chris stood up looking at the warrior asked. "When do we start?"
  19. Name: Chris Meyer
    Alias: Bladewolf
    Age: 22
    Weight: 210
    Height: 6'
    Appearances: none actually, well, not yet at least

    Physical description: Black hair and recently yellow'd eyes, he is very athletic in appearance as he works out alot. He usually wears one of two costumes, the first one being a suit of black and red leather armor over which he wears a long black trenchcoat. His medium length hair is tied back with a simple red headband and he wears a simple double diamond shaped mask to hide his indentity. The second costume is for situations that require more stealth. It is an all black skin tight suit that covers him from head to toe, the gloves and boots have strong spikes that come off from them. A blue headband tied just above the eyes highlight his head while a blue and black wolf's head sit in a faded blue patch on his chest.

    Personality: Chris is new to the hero buisness and just recently got his powers. He tends to take a back seat in matters of figuring out clues and villians next moves but will gladly jump to the front when fighting starts. His ability to heal from nearly any wound almost instantly has often made him brash and foolhardy. He is sometimes quiet and sometimes outspoken.

    Powers: Chris' powers come from his sword, a mystic blade that has permanitly bonded with Chris. He can make the sword vanish and appear at will. The blade gives Chris enhanced reflexes and speed though not to any superhuman levels. Chris can jump great distances and his senses have increased to inhuman levels. He can almost smell strong emotions, such as fear or hate or even love. He can also heal most wounds almost instantly and has found himself with much more stamina than before. The small quirk about the blade is it's soul. The original owner of the blade magically bonded his soul to it and he can now manifest himself to Chris. So far only Chris can see or hear this ancient warrior, though anyone who can see the spirit realm would be able to see the ghost. Thus when Chris seems to be talking to himself, he may actually not be. The ancient warrior is training Chris to use the katana like blade and Chris is a fast and able learner, but in times of great danger, the spirit can possess Chris and fight in his body. When this happens Bladewolf becomes a truly vicious fighter who rarely, if ever loses a fight. The ghost is hesitent to do this however as doing so weakens him greatly and he is unable to manifest again for some time.

    Bio: soon to be posted in the forums
  20. Yeah, I had forgotten to check the clue bag before I exited the mish and afterwards it was too late. Hmm, looks like I have some writing to do to explain how I can use it. thanks
  21. so there I was on my new (and yes, I know everyone and their cousin has one) DB/WP brute and I was reading the newspaper looking for other various badguys to beat up and I found the mish steal the dagger of erishikagel (sp) from the circle of thorns and it hit me.

    Once I stole the dagger, what was to prevent me from using it. I mean, I did steal it, why assume that once it was stolen it was immediately upon exiting the mish, sold.

    So off to the tailor I go to equip the dagger I rightfully stole. From a roleplaying perspective I'd say that I11's customization allows such new and interesting possibilities.

    thoughts/comments on such?