To Heir is Human XVI-Playground Options

[jack cloudy]

Next one.

OOC: Maybe a bit unrealistic, but everyone makes mistakes at time. Big mistakes.

Flint Ironwood.

Flint threw down the bow with a growl of frustration. His remaining arrows joined the weapon a moment later.
,,Screw this! I'm too old to do this kind of stuff. I'm going to help with the retreat. Feel free to use these arrows." He spoke to no one in particular and made his way for the stairs.

He stopped at the bottom of the breach. So far, no snakemen had crawled over the pile of rubble yet. The Breton looked at the stacked bricks and then begun to climb. At the top, he could see the defenders who had fallen.
,,I wonder why they haven't stormed over the place yet. This close to the wall, the archers can't shoot at them." He thought to himself.

At the top, an unwelcome surprise awaited him. One moment, he was looking at the cloudcovered sky. The other, he was blinded by a red flash.
,,Aah!" Flint screamed as he tumbled backwards. Somehow, he managed to fire off a telekinetic blast on pure instinct that smashed the top off the improvised wall he'd been climbing. The old man groaned when he came to a halt at the bottom. He didn't feel well. His forehead was throbbing, his right hand felt as if it was on fire and his knees weren't doing much better either. And he still couldn't see. Something was running into his eyes, something warm and liquid.

He heard a hiss. He then heard the thunderclap of air moving to fill an irregular vacuum.
,,What was that?!" Flint thought. He had been unable to see the snakeman that had first attacked him at the top of the wall, then slithered after him as he fell, finally to be teleported away by Aleatoire. Or at least, partially. What was left wasn't in any condition to do anything. Flint heard a crack.
,,And what was that?" He mumbled and used his left hand to wipe the liquid out of his face. The pain had now almost ceased as he'd become numb to it. Now he could finally see again and he looked at the hand he'd used to wipe with. It was covered in blood.
,,Oh, crap."

He looked at his other hand. The mashed piece of flesh didn't look like it could be saved. Somehow, it looked a lot worse than it felt.
,,Ugh. I'm never ever going to climb a wall again during wartime." The Breton muttered as he staggered to his feet. The archers up on the wall were too busy holding back the enemy to notice what had happened. Flint wiped the blood from his face again.
,,Ok, legs hurt, but still functional. Right hand, not recognizable as a hand anymore. Head, big bump on the back, gash at the front. Glass got split like paper. Ugh...swordslash? Oh, this is not good." He thought.

He looked around him. There was something off to his right, with what looked like a formless lump of golden scales in the center. The end result of the Aleatoire's victim. Just beyond it, there were the fallen defenders, some of which had rolled down after he'd fired that telekinetic blast. One form he felt he recognized.
,,Green-Root....Damn...Damn you. You just had to do a heroic sacrifice, didn't you? Damn you. I hope you enjoyed your moment of glory." He spat. Another snakeman reached the top of the breach. Flint struck it down with a telekinetic needle without giving it any further thought. He then turned and began to move to the assembly point, leaning on the walls of the buildings he passed. He was beginning to feel lightheaded.
,,Not a good sign. The wall won't hold much longer once those snakes get enough people across to flank the archers. I should warn some melee-fighters." He knew. He felt oddly unconcerned, however.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Dec 21 2007, 09:17 PM

[Priest of Sithis]

Patholos

The stunning color scheme blazing overhead startled Patholos, and with his unique vision, he could see the traces from where the spell came from. Muttering a curse under his breath for the first time he could remember, Patholos unsheathed his special dagger and released the paralysis enchantment upon the blade with a small drop of his own blood. Patholos looked at the wasted bodies of three civilians crack and sizzle in magical torment, and a small fire grew in his soul.

For the first time since he had met Karn, Patholos thought him to be cunning and decisive with few personal emotions ever involving themselves in his plan. The Sensei looked burned, and Patholos wondered what the merciless Karn would have done before the Narza'Tai, before the End of The Dark Brotherhood, before the Silhouette... war changes everyone....

Patholos ordered three standing Narza'Tai to his side and like fluid shadows they immersed themselves into a battle formation. A squad of Tactical Akaviri were on the heels of a family running for the shore. Patholos didn't have to say anything, as the four together struck the squad. There was relatively no sound heard as the snakemen dropped to the ground, and the four Narza'Tai stood victorious. Cleaning the blades ritualistically and heading for the next squad, the Narza'Tai became a masterpiece of war, each in his own personal Requiem. There was tranquility on the Narza'Tai's faces, and they were at peace with the world.

Patholos was cleaning his blade for the third time when horror struck him. His split soul, the part devoted to Sithis eternally and the Changed Patholos, began to feel whole again. This sudden change meant either of two things; he was becoming a tool of Sithis again, or he was healing and he had grown strong enough to break a pact with a deity. He was astounded when a small shadowy hand came into view with strikingly similar features to his own. An akaviri necromancer had torn his shadowy soul out of his body and incarnated it into a dead host. Patholos's heart sank as the Battle Posture of the Black Hand was taken by his shadowy self. With a grim determination, he made ready to end the wrong he put on the world.

OOC: I gave Patholos a Baptism by Fire, taking what he had done in his life with regret and getting a chance to face it, what is going to happen i wonder....