The king and the halfling moved at the same time, meeting each other halfway in a flurry of closed fists and rending claws. Lost in his own world, he failed to notice the absence of the Drim and Beyvelea, only coming to that realization as the hag declared their loss as her triumph. In that moment of distraction, Cesare was caught off-guard, the power of the blow setting him off as much as the increase in speed. Cesare bristled against his opponent, spinning in a reckless whirlwind to force him to back off.
He took some time to assess the situation, and did not find it favorable at all. What ground any of the remaining fighters had gained was quickly lost over the empowerment their opponents received over the sacrifice of the Lich Skeleking. As everyone prepared to join in battle once more, Drim and Beyvelea made a timely entrance, forcing the necromancer to surrender her current hold. This, however, had made for a particularly disconcerting trade off as the rest of the Skelekings merged into one misshapen mass of bone and magic. "Oh, bother.."
For a giant, the skeleton moved with surprising speed. Still, it was nothing Cesare couldn't match and exceed, as its size made it a little more difficult to maneuver. Skirting around it, Cesare moved in and out around it swiftly, carving into bone and shattering where he could. It did little to actually cripple the giant, however, already repairing itself as Cesare made his passes. "We'd really have to aim for the witch at this rate.. unless we could override her music with our own?"
"Well, isn't that just too bad." The rest of the walk was spent in silence on Hael's end, carefully storing the information he received in his mind and putting it away for the future. The walk west was short, and soon they came upon a small, nondescript mound in the sand, with a small wooden post stuck in it, rags torn from the harsh winds flailing softly. Hael smirked at Prisim's question, giving a quick reply, "Actions speak louder than words, no?" As he stood there, sand began to shift and churn, slowly leveling with the area around it, before finally making a small valley as it formed a crater.
Golden eyes glowed as Hael poured more of his will into moving the sand, feeling for the structure buried beneath. Displacing sand alone was inefficient, as such, he began to not only shift the sands away, but upwards. With a good idea of the wrecked sandship's shape, he slowly pushed the ruin upwards, smiling as its prow began to surface like a mirage. A few more seconds and a vast majority of the wreck was raised, a shell of its former glory now sitting in the center of a bowl of sand. With a small hop, Hael slid on the sand, gliding down for a closer look. Glancing back at Prisim, he asked a question. "This should be most of it - at least where the cargo hold is concerned - so what now?"
"Manual labor? What an exciting prospect." Hael replied in a dull tone, still stinging from his recent failure. He quickly changed his tune, however, finding unnecessary conflict at the moment would just cause more delays. As they began walking west, Hael continued. "Well, if it's a sandship, we may as well take the whole thing provided it's still in good condition. Otherwise, I see no way to transport all of its contents back in one go - unless you're here to remedy that?" Hael observed the tetrahedron Prisim conjured, listening to him as he gave a short and wholly uninformative description of his power, ending with a short promise to demonstrate later as he clenched his fist shut.
"I have to wonder about Aro... Why is Kekara so afraid of her?" A short exchange and Hael simply gave a simple 'huh' in response. Pondering over it for a moment, Hael picked up once more on his line of questions. "Well, good to know I'm not the only collateral damage hazard around. What is it that would allow her to cause such damage anyway? It's not so simple taking down someone blessed by an artifact."
Taking a pause, Kael finally turned to Hael and addressed him properly. "Sand guy. How did the mission go?" A small sigh escaped his lips as he began before Kekara jumped all the way back to where another stood. Bringing his eyes up once more, he gave a quick scan around and saw yet another, giving a small huff at the presence of these new personas. Finally coming into his view was yet another familiar figure who appeared to spook the living daylights out of the girl who greeted him. Piercing green eyes stood out as her various accessories gave a light jingle, their golden sheen not entirely dissimilar to her hair which still looked entirely too foreign for him. "Yes. How did the mission go."
Hael rolled his eyes, feeling for the box in his bag. Pulling it out, he gave it a light toss into the air, earning a reaction out of just about everyone in the room save for Prisim and Aro. Kael bit back a remark as the answer quickly dawned on him as well, to which he sat back with mild disapproval in his eyes. Hael rolled his eyes in turn, before swiftly throwing the box at Aro. Catching it with a single hand, she began to inspect it, turning it over between her fingers. "That bad, huh?" Hael nodded in reply. "Complete bust. It wasn't a dud, but someone used it before I could get my hands on it. Shifted the blame on me. Fairly certain the fact that I had to make a quick getaway with my powers helped too." Aro shook her head in dismissal. "No matter, your mission wasn't as important as the retrieval of Crysa's Artifact." Hael suppressed a grimace, though he knew she meant nothing by it, it was still a blow to his pride to have failed the mission despite circumstances out of his control.
Aro then began to quiz the new recruit, who demonstrated her powers with ease. Hael watched, mildly impressed at the speed she could upon it, and the degree of control she had. Aro, seemingly pleased, turned to Hael once more, ready with another set of instructions. "Okay, Hael, you're teamed up with Ka- no, then your names would get confusing." Two pairs of eyes rolled at this, before Aro continued. "You're with Prisim until further notice." Aro then turned to the rest, to give them their own instructions. Hael eyed the man in the jade vest, already attempting to gauge his partner for his next mission. He was slightly bemused at the girl who greeted him - Kekara, as Aro called her - as she begged to switch with Prisim, and failing that, settled for sitting as far away as she can from Aro, contemplating her fate. Hael didn't know why her fear of Aro ran so deep, though he felt that he was perhaps biased, having never seen it in action. Finally, Hael wondered as to where Amsi had gone - it was unlike him to take so long.
Bright, piercing sunlight reflected off the glittering sands, a dizzying sight for any traveler unused to the ever shifting roads. For Hael, it was a boring sight, one he was supposed to be used to were his patchy memories to be trusted. Hitchhiking between various caravans, Hael slowly but surely made his way to his destination, a large city of trade and commerce. Recent days, however, have proved to be trying for this city as rumors of more and more artifacts being circulated has encouraged bandits to become more active and frequent in their attacks. Seedy fortune-seeking merchants have also been on the rise, peddling fakes to swindle the ignorant, ready to take advantage of the greedy to feed their own greed.
Hael's musings came to an end as they finally reached the gate. With nothing of true value to declare beyond his meager possessions, he was easily admitted in. Even just beyond the gates the place was already bustling with activity, other caravans present moving in and out of the city at every turn, each peddling as much of their wares as they can whilst they are on the move. Aimlessly wandering, Hael sighed deeply at his leader's vague instructions of a rendezvous point. Picking a dried fig from his low-slung pack, Hael chewed on it, mulling over his recent task. A simple smash and grab, he earned the trust of a caravan's leader easily with his experience before blowing up a storm in the night and making off with a simple, nondescript box.
Hael felt for the box, secure in its shape and weight as he continued eating, randomly twisting and turning through the winding streets. In a stroke of boredom, he turned his eyes skyward, finding a peculiar crow with one beady eye affixed to him. He shook his head, wondering how he could've missed such an easy cue. Following the trail of increasing density of the black feathered avians, he finally came upon a seemingly run down storehouse. With little ceremony, he opened the door, walking in with feigned disinterest.
He immediately came upon a boy in robes who seemed pre-occupied with reading scrolls. Another gave Hael the warm welcome he didn't expect, however. With an excited voice, she grabbed Hael by the shoulders, looking at him with a smile. "Oh hello, look who's back!" Kael merely grunted, giving a short nod in response Hael's wave. With a giggle, she continued. "Guess what, Rookie. Great news! You've been promoted!"
After an anticlimactic ascent to the summit, the party descended all together to face who Cesare presumed to be the true cause of all the dark magic. A shiver ran down his spine as the eerie green light bathed the necromancer in a sickly haze, her bony fingers running along her equally bony instrument in a chilling repertoire. Great skeletal constructs rose at her command, and each advanced menacingly, each unique in their construction. As each picked its own fight, Cesare stared ahead, at his own impending fight.
A head taller than Cesare, the skeleton for him was the shortest of them all, yet felt no less threatening. It's even gait that could have once belonged to royalty now pounded on the floor, its weight apparent to those nearby. A cuirass of bones protected its torso, all carved with varied scripts Cesare could barely recognize. Greaves of shattered bone covered its legs, as spiked pauldrons adorned its shoulders, holding in place a ragged, brown cloak pocked with varied holes, yet still intact for strange reasons. Hands fused into gauntlets of sharpened bone knocked together in challenge, as dark magic coursed through it suffusing its entire body. Green eyes glowed from six slits that made for a mask, the only warning Cesare got before it planted one dense foot forward and charged at full tilt.
Cesare barely had time to shift into a Mighty Glacier as he put up his arms before himself as quickly as he can, palms outward as he absorbed the impact fully, glad for the hardened leather cloak he wore which succeeded in stopping various shards and spikes from piercing through. Empowered by his transformation, he pulled in opposing directions, fingers curved into steady hooks ready to tear through anything it got ahold of. With surprising speed, the skeleton fell back barely worse for wear, gouges barely an inch deep carved through its pauldrons and upper arms. Cesare smiled, falling into an easy, open stance.
"My turn." Cesare charged, open palms closing into fists as he cleared the gap between the skeleton and himself. Though far slower than his opponent at the moment, the skeleton welcomed the challenge and met him halfway, though this time moving to his side in an attempt to strike from an undefended position. Cesare ducked against a right hook, catching the skeleton's leg as it came. Cesare grinned at the brief note of surprise, the feint having been countered as Cesare lifted the skeleton by its momentum. Turning on his heel, he slammed the skeleton on its back, which then kicked him off with its free leg for his troubles. Circling one another once more, both took time and stock of each other, finally acknowledging that it wasn't going to be an easy fight.
|Eye Color|
"As the shimmer of the sands in sunrise..."
Hael inherited his mother's golden yellow eyes, reminiscent of the sparkling sands at daybreak.
|Hair Color|
"As the feathers of the ravens in the sky..."
Hael's hair is a deep, messy shock of black hair, though largely unkempt, is short enough to stay in place.
|Body Type|
"As lithe as the coyote that ravages the deserts..."
Hael has a lean, well toned body, wrought by the long travels he has suffered through.
|Standard Dressup Attire|
"The last of my belongings from which the sands have stayed their hands..."
Hael wears a thick, lightweight bundle of clothes with plenty of ventilation - standard dressings for desert nomads and traders. Perfect to keep out the sands, and equally good for keeping the wearer cool. These clothes consist of a fine silken tunic, faded from his time in the desert, a hard leather coat to protect his arms from the sun's harsh rays, and loose pants that allow for comfort and mobility. He wears an oversized scarf, something that his father passed down to him, which doubles as a veil and a cowl.
|Height & Weight|
Height: 172 cm Weight: 68kg
|Birthmarks, Tattoos, and Scars|
"The crest of my family, the last of my knowledge to who I am..."
Hael bears his family's crest on the back of his left shoulder, a small insignia that denotes the members of his family. It is a small cross on top of a compass rose positioned diagonally, a tattoo marking their owners as tried and true travelers, knowledgeable of the lay of the land.
|Personality|
"The things which define who I am..."
Hael is not a very cheery person, and more often than not, he prefers to wallow in his own despair over the things he didn’t mean to do. Terribly cynical, he has a negative outlook on most people, barring those few who have earned his trust. He is deathly cold towards those who betray his trust, and to give a transgressor a second chance is a rarity for him. He tends to be sarcastic to deny those around him.
|Likes|
-Maps which remind him of the paths he’s taken.
-The roads carved into the stars reminding him of sleepless nights in which he traveled.
-The various wares, bought, sold, and haggled for in trading centers.
-Resting beneath the shade of trees.
-Oases which equate to stops.
|Dislikes|
-Crooks, liars, and cheats who do not follow the sanctity of trade.
-Thieves who have no right to the things they own.
-Haughty nobles who think they can define the price for anything.
|Strengths|
"The power with which I conquer..."
Hael's abilities allow him to isolate himself from his enemies, his strongest point being his ability to deny opponents vision, and leaving the combat largely unscathed. While his sandstorms function mostly as a cloak, he can use it offensively as well, churning the sands at terrible speeds, cutting up all those around him as he stays still in the eye of the storm he's brewing. His stamina is also noteworthy, years of travelling from various points and places having toned his body to their peak capacity. If given enough resources, he is also hell of a haggler in the marketplace.
|Weaknesses|
"The burdens I bear for my sins..."
Hael prefers to solve his problems head on, often causing more problems for himself in the process. He's the kind of person to throw caution into the wind, and is very content to let it stay there if it means that his goal is to be achieved. He doesn't like to rely on his powers as much as possible, often fearing for the collateral damage he can cause with them in use, and when he needs it most, it tends to stay dormant, making it quite unreliable until further mastery is achieved.
|Fears|
"Something any sane person should feel..."
Hael has but a single, major fear, that which is being lost. Not just your regular kind of lost, but really, truly lost. Say, drop him in the middle of a bog after knocking him out, with trees hanging high and their foliage blocking the stars at night and the path of the sun during day, and you will probably never have to worry about him coming out ever again, as he would most likely be paralyzed by the fact that he is lost. An alligator will probably eat him while he's having a mental breakdown. Other minor fears are those of the dark and the deep waters, but what he truly fears is what horrors may lurk within them.
|Combatstyle|
"Time to look alive."
Hael is very straightforward in combat, often times he would simply choose to run towards his opponent and cave their heads in. However, he is very keen on gauging his opponents abilities, knowing when he is clearly outmatched. In such cases, Hael prefers to simply outlast them, having pride in his near limitless stamina, something he has learned to use and abuse as he sees fit. Only once has Hael ever relied on his powers in an offensive, manner, and it was at a terrible price, as it fails to discern from friend or foe, ripping everything to shreds within his area of effect, the damage caused in no way proportional to the damage he has sought to deal.
|Ability|
"As it was given to me, so it has taken from me."
Hael's ability is to manipulate the sands to his will, whether be it to snare his foes or to bury them alive, or to throw up a storm to hide his presence or to rip through his surroundings to keep others at bay. His hesitation to use his powers is most often the cause for the disobedience of the sands, but if he puts his mind to it, his efforts are usually repaid ten-fold, ending up as more of a very effective, yet equally destructive catastrophe. The only things he has managed so far is to properly shift the sands beneath a target's feet, or to hide his presence in a mild storm. He has been experimenting with shifting the sands to increase the speed of his travels over the desert, but has been met with little success so far.
|Price|
"The first of the things I've lost."
He had heard rumors of how the process was about when you've opened what traders called Pandora's Box. If there was one thing that mattered the least to him in that moment that he did, it was that he was to be remembered. His choice may have been a rash decision, and indeed, it has cost him much more than it had given him, and this day he seeks to restore what was once lost, a journey wrought on by guilt and anger.
|Equipment & Weapons|
"Drawn from the sunken remains of where the nightmare began..."
A diamond willow staff, pilfered from the wreck of his caravan.
A small satchel where he stores various things.
A small water skin, tucked away in the bag.
A hard leather cloak which offers mild defense against blunt weaponry.
A bunch of dates.
Two figs.
|History|
"The only things I remember..."
Hael has little memory of what happened before he had given his name over. While the knowledge he had accumulated throughout his years on the deserts remained with him, much of his minor memories which is what would be called his life had slipped past him. As the few that remained shone like stars in the inky blankness of his mind, those that haven’t have fogged themselves up, surrounding the brilliant memories like the dark, blank night sky.
His life, as he recalled, started in a well worn inn, homely and rustic in its design, filled with a plethora of travelers of all kinds. Here he learned most of his skills, such as tying knots, cooking simple dishes, taking care of horses and camels alike. Plenty of work was also done around an inn, such as cleaning tables, washing dishes, and other boring jobs like fixing the rooms. It made sense, as Hael reflected that his parents would have met here, a lovely innkeeper falling for the charming trader. What he didn't understand was why he doesn't recall ever having a mother figure around such a place, and none of the women whom he interacted with seemed to hold that spark within them.
He grew up soon enough, getting stronger each day, taking on the heavier workloads from the hands of the various innkeepers around. Life was a constant tedium then, but in this memory was the first time he ever went out farther than the next street. He recalls being tasked to handle a certain food delivery, as well as dealing with the market that day. Accompanied by a kindly old man, he recalls learning of the art of trading, and getting into a scuffle over an unfair trade. The next memory he could recall vividly was when his father returned. There was sadness in his eyes as he talked with his caretaker, but a bright cheeriness when they were finally face to face. His remark about his mother’s eyes were something that stuck, and wishing to learn more about her, he chose to travel with him, to which his father delightfully accepted. The first of his travels came a fortnight later, and it was a great test to his patience, as the one had to be meticulous with the preparations, not a single detail was to be off at that time. He met with each of the other members of the caravan, collecting each what they needed that they still didn't have, a look of mild condescension and curiosity visible on all of their faces, but some more hidden than others. The help was appreciated, however, and upon leaving, he was already being accepted as a new member of the team.
A few months later, he started hearing rumors about the special containers that were said to grant wishes. Said to be something akin to Pandora’s Box, tales were whispered beneath hushed tones. This far out of his homeland, it was branded as witchcraft and heresy. However, there was one clear fact behind every whispered word and hushed voice – they were valuable, and astoundingly so. Years came to pass, and this memory was something Hael had never wished had happened. A small music box came into their possession, said to be very important, it was well guarded in the very center of their caravan, with warriors stationed around them. A large sum was paid to his father, he knew that much by his actions alone, but word floated among the members that that was only a fourth of it, that upon delivery, the contract would give out the other three fourths. The sum was quite enough to set each and every member well enough for the next decade or so, and the prospect of such a reward was undeniable. The task was undertaken, and at a price no one ever thought would have paid.
Many accidents were met during their trek back. Most thought it silly coincidence, but everyone knew the real reason. The box carried a curse, and it wasn't one to let itself get dragged around anywhere so easily. Stop after stop more and more of the caravan decided to sign off, knowing full well that getting the item to its destination would come at a terrible cost in the end. But others forged on, fueled by greed and promises, each one seeking a more comfortable state of living. It was all going well, until the last leg of the journey. Bandits seemingly came out of nowhere. The caravan was attacked; its men were cut down left and right. Those that responded quickly knew that they were being overwhelmed. Some attempted to turn tail and run, but were cut down by flying daggers, each mark hitting perfectly, bringing certain death. A vague command from his father came, and Hael ran to the center of the pack, hurriedly digging through with little care for the supplies being turned over. He reached the box and unclasped it, the cover swung open, and the world was ushered into darkness.
A soft, melodious voice. A desperate cry for help. The blinding desert sun in his eyes. A storm raged on, suddenly, and out of nowhere. The boy asked, the box responded. Quickly, and terribly so, his wish had been granted, and they all went away. As shocked faces turned to the eye of the storm, questioning who the boy was and what he was doing there, the sands overtook them, taking each and everyone before any were able to utter a word. His world spun as he clutched something, anything he could find, and the world went out like a light.
Cesare wordlessly rifled through the town, shaking his head in defeat as he confirmed with his own eyes how thoroughly the town was razed to the ground. Scorched earth and various litter of what used to be a town lay all around, though oddly enough, much of the carnage that should still be present was gone, and all that remains were dry, dented bones. A horn sounded in the distance, and as he walked to regroup with the others, he caught the tail ends of their conversation. "Well, if everyone's up for a hike, then so am I."
Two days, with a single break. Not very difficult for a halfling - they were well known for being a hardy, indomitable race. Though he marched with confidence, he held his peace, marching with nary a peep, his mind focused on the singular goal of cutting the magic at the source. A short break was taken, where they rested and shared rations, though Cesare was largely content with the one he packed for himself, glad for the variety. With a lighter load, he got up along with the rest once more, and began marching on.
It didn't take long, however, before they were stopped by another one of Drim's summons, a warning of a larger group of skeletons making their move. Quickly bunching up within a nearby opening, they hid for two hours as the skeletons made their way past, during which Cesare decided to simply rest with his back against the wall, keeping his eyes closed as he listened to the rhythmic thrum of the army's march. He opened his eyes once more as the sounds finally faded away, bringing himself back to reality.
Cesare nodded in agreement. "Rest would be good for us, it would be greatly beneficial to be at our best when we finish the last leg of this particular journey." He gave a passing glance at the artifact the golem held, before shaking his head. "I have not encountered it before, either in writing or by word of mouth. It may prove its use to us later, however. It would be best to safeguard it." Taking a short pause, he gave a small smile. "Ah, and forgive me for being scatterbrained earlier. I am Cesare, for those who have yet to know. Now then, I'll be off to sleep."
So I have +2 attributes and +1 skill/ability/power in the bank. Will think up what to do with them, weekend's here and I'll forego studying well into the night. Will also make a post in a few hours or so.
Having finished gathering his meager possessions, and acquiring a few more knicks and knacks from the gypsies themselves, Cesare prepared to march once more. Once more arranged into a loose group, they began moving, onwards to the base of the mountain. It was a mostly uneventful walk, something Cesare was appreciative of. Peace seemed harder and harder to come by, and he sighed as they ran across a few bandits, but thankfully, most scattered. As the day drew to a close, with the sky taking on deeper, reddish hues of the setting sun, something of interest finally cropped up. As Drim shushed the group, Cesare drew forward to peer at the object of interest.
A great number of skeletons marched past, many bearing weaponry, led on by others bearing torches. They went about their march unhindered, eyes forward as they took no notice of the group among the foliage, and the low voices within. "Well, I'll be." Cesare gave a short remark as the skeletons began to diversify, initially only composed of largely humanoid ones that soon gave way to larger, bigger, meaner troops. Orc folk, half giants, trolls, a fairly mixed bunch shook the earth as they stepped in the same rhythm, erasing all doubts in Cesare's mind that the plethora of forerunners were no more than cannon fodder.
Finally, the heavy footsteps faded away, and Drim deemed it safe to move. "Well, a private army of that size is trouble regardless of who is warmongering. It might still be worth our while to pick through the town, regardless if it's been razed already. We'd better get a move on, and quickly." He gave a glance up at the peak and frowned as the cloud continued to crackle and rumble, ominous as ever.
Drim retired for the night as he ended his tale, and Cesare decided to follow suit. The following morning was filled with general misery as the moonshine hit hard from last night, leaving Cesare thankful for his purge. He spent most of the day helping out in various chores to repay the gypsy's kindness to them. The Knight left in the meantime, carrying his father's body with him. Cesare watched him as he left, soon returning to his work as he vanished over the horizon.
The day thereafter Drim finally awoke, a fact made known to Cesare as the man finally exited his tent. "That good enough of a beauty sleep for you, Drim?" Cesare gave a small smile as he gave him a once over, nodding to himself. "Well, you're up at the very least. Considering how your armor's healed as well, it might not be a bad idea to get it chipped every now and then, considering it does its own maintenance work." With the map out, Cesare figured they were to move again soon enough, and began collecting his things.
0
[[jeeessssusss crriisstoooo]]
The king and the halfling moved at the same time, meeting each other halfway in a flurry of closed fists and rending claws. Lost in his own world, he failed to notice the absence of the Drim and Beyvelea, only coming to that realization as the hag declared their loss as her triumph. In that moment of distraction, Cesare was caught off-guard, the power of the blow setting him off as much as the increase in speed. Cesare bristled against his opponent, spinning in a reckless whirlwind to force him to back off.
He took some time to assess the situation, and did not find it favorable at all. What ground any of the remaining fighters had gained was quickly lost over the empowerment their opponents received over the sacrifice of the Lich Skeleking. As everyone prepared to join in battle once more, Drim and Beyvelea made a timely entrance, forcing the necromancer to surrender her current hold. This, however, had made for a particularly disconcerting trade off as the rest of the Skelekings merged into one misshapen mass of bone and magic. "Oh, bother.."
For a giant, the skeleton moved with surprising speed. Still, it was nothing Cesare couldn't match and exceed, as its size made it a little more difficult to maneuver. Skirting around it, Cesare moved in and out around it swiftly, carving into bone and shattering where he could. It did little to actually cripple the giant, however, already repairing itself as Cesare made his passes. "We'd really have to aim for the witch at this rate.. unless we could override her music with our own?"
0
[[holllyy crap buuump]]
"Well, isn't that just too bad." The rest of the walk was spent in silence on Hael's end, carefully storing the information he received in his mind and putting it away for the future. The walk west was short, and soon they came upon a small, nondescript mound in the sand, with a small wooden post stuck in it, rags torn from the harsh winds flailing softly. Hael smirked at Prisim's question, giving a quick reply, "Actions speak louder than words, no?" As he stood there, sand began to shift and churn, slowly leveling with the area around it, before finally making a small valley as it formed a crater.
Golden eyes glowed as Hael poured more of his will into moving the sand, feeling for the structure buried beneath. Displacing sand alone was inefficient, as such, he began to not only shift the sands away, but upwards. With a good idea of the wrecked sandship's shape, he slowly pushed the ruin upwards, smiling as its prow began to surface like a mirage. A few more seconds and a vast majority of the wreck was raised, a shell of its former glory now sitting in the center of a bowl of sand. With a small hop, Hael slid on the sand, gliding down for a closer look. Glancing back at Prisim, he asked a question. "This should be most of it - at least where the cargo hold is concerned - so what now?"
0
uughhh
0
Sorry for being dead. Travel is killing me.
0
"Manual labor? What an exciting prospect." Hael replied in a dull tone, still stinging from his recent failure. He quickly changed his tune, however, finding unnecessary conflict at the moment would just cause more delays. As they began walking west, Hael continued. "Well, if it's a sandship, we may as well take the whole thing provided it's still in good condition. Otherwise, I see no way to transport all of its contents back in one go - unless you're here to remedy that?" Hael observed the tetrahedron Prisim conjured, listening to him as he gave a short and wholly uninformative description of his power, ending with a short promise to demonstrate later as he clenched his fist shut.
"I have to wonder about Aro... Why is Kekara so afraid of her?" A short exchange and Hael simply gave a simple 'huh' in response. Pondering over it for a moment, Hael picked up once more on his line of questions. "Well, good to know I'm not the only collateral damage hazard around. What is it that would allow her to cause such damage anyway? It's not so simple taking down someone blessed by an artifact."
0
Taking a pause, Kael finally turned to Hael and addressed him properly. "Sand guy. How did the mission go?" A small sigh escaped his lips as he began before Kekara jumped all the way back to where another stood. Bringing his eyes up once more, he gave a quick scan around and saw yet another, giving a small huff at the presence of these new personas. Finally coming into his view was yet another familiar figure who appeared to spook the living daylights out of the girl who greeted him. Piercing green eyes stood out as her various accessories gave a light jingle, their golden sheen not entirely dissimilar to her hair which still looked entirely too foreign for him. "Yes. How did the mission go."
Hael rolled his eyes, feeling for the box in his bag. Pulling it out, he gave it a light toss into the air, earning a reaction out of just about everyone in the room save for Prisim and Aro. Kael bit back a remark as the answer quickly dawned on him as well, to which he sat back with mild disapproval in his eyes. Hael rolled his eyes in turn, before swiftly throwing the box at Aro. Catching it with a single hand, she began to inspect it, turning it over between her fingers. "That bad, huh?" Hael nodded in reply. "Complete bust. It wasn't a dud, but someone used it before I could get my hands on it. Shifted the blame on me. Fairly certain the fact that I had to make a quick getaway with my powers helped too." Aro shook her head in dismissal. "No matter, your mission wasn't as important as the retrieval of Crysa's Artifact." Hael suppressed a grimace, though he knew she meant nothing by it, it was still a blow to his pride to have failed the mission despite circumstances out of his control.
Aro then began to quiz the new recruit, who demonstrated her powers with ease. Hael watched, mildly impressed at the speed she could upon it, and the degree of control she had. Aro, seemingly pleased, turned to Hael once more, ready with another set of instructions. "Okay, Hael, you're teamed up with Ka- no, then your names would get confusing." Two pairs of eyes rolled at this, before Aro continued. "You're with Prisim until further notice." Aro then turned to the rest, to give them their own instructions. Hael eyed the man in the jade vest, already attempting to gauge his partner for his next mission. He was slightly bemused at the girl who greeted him - Kekara, as Aro called her - as she begged to switch with Prisim, and failing that, settled for sitting as far away as she can from Aro, contemplating her fate. Hael didn't know why her fear of Aro ran so deep, though he felt that he was perhaps biased, having never seen it in action. Finally, Hael wondered as to where Amsi had gone - it was unlike him to take so long.
0
Bright, piercing sunlight reflected off the glittering sands, a dizzying sight for any traveler unused to the ever shifting roads. For Hael, it was a boring sight, one he was supposed to be used to were his patchy memories to be trusted. Hitchhiking between various caravans, Hael slowly but surely made his way to his destination, a large city of trade and commerce. Recent days, however, have proved to be trying for this city as rumors of more and more artifacts being circulated has encouraged bandits to become more active and frequent in their attacks. Seedy fortune-seeking merchants have also been on the rise, peddling fakes to swindle the ignorant, ready to take advantage of the greedy to feed their own greed.
Hael's musings came to an end as they finally reached the gate. With nothing of true value to declare beyond his meager possessions, he was easily admitted in. Even just beyond the gates the place was already bustling with activity, other caravans present moving in and out of the city at every turn, each peddling as much of their wares as they can whilst they are on the move. Aimlessly wandering, Hael sighed deeply at his leader's vague instructions of a rendezvous point. Picking a dried fig from his low-slung pack, Hael chewed on it, mulling over his recent task. A simple smash and grab, he earned the trust of a caravan's leader easily with his experience before blowing up a storm in the night and making off with a simple, nondescript box.
Hael felt for the box, secure in its shape and weight as he continued eating, randomly twisting and turning through the winding streets. In a stroke of boredom, he turned his eyes skyward, finding a peculiar crow with one beady eye affixed to him. He shook his head, wondering how he could've missed such an easy cue. Following the trail of increasing density of the black feathered avians, he finally came upon a seemingly run down storehouse. With little ceremony, he opened the door, walking in with feigned disinterest.
He immediately came upon a boy in robes who seemed pre-occupied with reading scrolls. Another gave Hael the warm welcome he didn't expect, however. With an excited voice, she grabbed Hael by the shoulders, looking at him with a smile. "Oh hello, look who's back!" Kael merely grunted, giving a short nod in response Hael's wave. With a giggle, she continued. "Guess what, Rookie. Great news! You've been promoted!"
0
[[sorry for the inactivity]]
After an anticlimactic ascent to the summit, the party descended all together to face who Cesare presumed to be the true cause of all the dark magic. A shiver ran down his spine as the eerie green light bathed the necromancer in a sickly haze, her bony fingers running along her equally bony instrument in a chilling repertoire. Great skeletal constructs rose at her command, and each advanced menacingly, each unique in their construction. As each picked its own fight, Cesare stared ahead, at his own impending fight.
A head taller than Cesare, the skeleton for him was the shortest of them all, yet felt no less threatening. It's even gait that could have once belonged to royalty now pounded on the floor, its weight apparent to those nearby. A cuirass of bones protected its torso, all carved with varied scripts Cesare could barely recognize. Greaves of shattered bone covered its legs, as spiked pauldrons adorned its shoulders, holding in place a ragged, brown cloak pocked with varied holes, yet still intact for strange reasons. Hands fused into gauntlets of sharpened bone knocked together in challenge, as dark magic coursed through it suffusing its entire body. Green eyes glowed from six slits that made for a mask, the only warning Cesare got before it planted one dense foot forward and charged at full tilt.
Cesare barely had time to shift into a Mighty Glacier as he put up his arms before himself as quickly as he can, palms outward as he absorbed the impact fully, glad for the hardened leather cloak he wore which succeeded in stopping various shards and spikes from piercing through. Empowered by his transformation, he pulled in opposing directions, fingers curved into steady hooks ready to tear through anything it got ahold of. With surprising speed, the skeleton fell back barely worse for wear, gouges barely an inch deep carved through its pauldrons and upper arms. Cesare smiled, falling into an easy, open stance.
"My turn." Cesare charged, open palms closing into fists as he cleared the gap between the skeleton and himself. Though far slower than his opponent at the moment, the skeleton welcomed the challenge and met him halfway, though this time moving to his side in an attempt to strike from an undefended position. Cesare ducked against a right hook, catching the skeleton's leg as it came. Cesare grinned at the brief note of surprise, the feint having been countered as Cesare lifted the skeleton by its momentum. Turning on his heel, he slammed the skeleton on its back, which then kicked him off with its free leg for his troubles. Circling one another once more, both took time and stock of each other, finally acknowledging that it wasn't going to be an easy fight.
0
'Hael'
Babylon of the Occident || Shanghai Restoration Project
|| 19 || Male || July 19th ||
|Eye Color|
"As the shimmer of the sands in sunrise..."
Hael inherited his mother's golden yellow eyes, reminiscent of the sparkling sands at daybreak.
|Hair Color|
"As the feathers of the ravens in the sky..."
Hael's hair is a deep, messy shock of black hair, though largely unkempt, is short enough to stay in place.
|Body Type|
"As lithe as the coyote that ravages the deserts..."
Hael has a lean, well toned body, wrought by the long travels he has suffered through.
|Standard Dressup Attire|
"The last of my belongings from which the sands have stayed their hands..."
Hael wears a thick, lightweight bundle of clothes with plenty of ventilation - standard dressings for desert nomads and traders. Perfect to keep out the sands, and equally good for keeping the wearer cool. These clothes consist of a fine silken tunic, faded from his time in the desert, a hard leather coat to protect his arms from the sun's harsh rays, and loose pants that allow for comfort and mobility. He wears an oversized scarf, something that his father passed down to him, which doubles as a veil and a cowl.
|Height & Weight|
Height: 172 cm Weight: 68kg
|Birthmarks, Tattoos, and Scars|
"The crest of my family, the last of my knowledge to who I am..."
Hael bears his family's crest on the back of his left shoulder, a small insignia that denotes the members of his family. It is a small cross on top of a compass rose positioned diagonally, a tattoo marking their owners as tried and true travelers, knowledgeable of the lay of the land.
"The things which define who I am..."
Hael is not a very cheery person, and more often than not, he prefers to wallow in his own despair over the things he didn’t mean to do. Terribly cynical, he has a negative outlook on most people, barring those few who have earned his trust. He is deathly cold towards those who betray his trust, and to give a transgressor a second chance is a rarity for him. He tends to be sarcastic to deny those around him.
|Likes|
-Maps which remind him of the paths he’s taken.
-The roads carved into the stars reminding him of sleepless nights in which he traveled.
-The various wares, bought, sold, and haggled for in trading centers.
-Resting beneath the shade of trees.
-Oases which equate to stops.
|Dislikes|
-Crooks, liars, and cheats who do not follow the sanctity of trade.
-Thieves who have no right to the things they own.
-Haughty nobles who think they can define the price for anything.
|Strengths|
"The power with which I conquer..."
Hael's abilities allow him to isolate himself from his enemies, his strongest point being his ability to deny opponents vision, and leaving the combat largely unscathed. While his sandstorms function mostly as a cloak, he can use it offensively as well, churning the sands at terrible speeds, cutting up all those around him as he stays still in the eye of the storm he's brewing. His stamina is also noteworthy, years of travelling from various points and places having toned his body to their peak capacity. If given enough resources, he is also hell of a haggler in the marketplace.
|Weaknesses|
"The burdens I bear for my sins..."
Hael prefers to solve his problems head on, often causing more problems for himself in the process. He's the kind of person to throw caution into the wind, and is very content to let it stay there if it means that his goal is to be achieved. He doesn't like to rely on his powers as much as possible, often fearing for the collateral damage he can cause with them in use, and when he needs it most, it tends to stay dormant, making it quite unreliable until further mastery is achieved.
|Fears|
"Something any sane person should feel..."
Hael has but a single, major fear, that which is being lost. Not just your regular kind of lost, but really, truly lost. Say, drop him in the middle of a bog after knocking him out, with trees hanging high and their foliage blocking the stars at night and the path of the sun during day, and you will probably never have to worry about him coming out ever again, as he would most likely be paralyzed by the fact that he is lost. An alligator will probably eat him while he's having a mental breakdown. Other minor fears are those of the dark and the deep waters, but what he truly fears is what horrors may lurk within them.
|Combat style|
"Time to look alive."
Hael is very straightforward in combat, often times he would simply choose to run towards his opponent and cave their heads in. However, he is very keen on gauging his opponents abilities, knowing when he is clearly outmatched. In such cases, Hael prefers to simply outlast them, having pride in his near limitless stamina, something he has learned to use and abuse as he sees fit. Only once has Hael ever relied on his powers in an offensive, manner, and it was at a terrible price, as it fails to discern from friend or foe, ripping everything to shreds within his area of effect, the damage caused in no way proportional to the damage he has sought to deal.
|Ability|
"As it was given to me, so it has taken from me."
Hael's ability is to manipulate the sands to his will, whether be it to snare his foes or to bury them alive, or to throw up a storm to hide his presence or to rip through his surroundings to keep others at bay. His hesitation to use his powers is most often the cause for the disobedience of the sands, but if he puts his mind to it, his efforts are usually repaid ten-fold, ending up as more of a very effective, yet equally destructive catastrophe. The only things he has managed so far is to properly shift the sands beneath a target's feet, or to hide his presence in a mild storm. He has been experimenting with shifting the sands to increase the speed of his travels over the desert, but has been met with little success so far.
|Price|
"The first of the things I've lost."
He had heard rumors of how the process was about when you've opened what traders called Pandora's Box. If there was one thing that mattered the least to him in that moment that he did, it was that he was to be remembered. His choice may have been a rash decision, and indeed, it has cost him much more than it had given him, and this day he seeks to restore what was once lost, a journey wrought on by guilt and anger.
|Equipment & Weapons|
"Drawn from the sunken remains of where the nightmare began..."
A diamond willow staff, pilfered from the wreck of his caravan.
A small satchel where he stores various things.
A small water skin, tucked away in the bag.
A hard leather cloak which offers mild defense against blunt weaponry.
A bunch of dates.
Two figs.
|History|
"The only things I remember..."
Hael has little memory of what happened before he had given his name over. While the knowledge he had accumulated throughout his years on the deserts remained with him, much of his minor memories which is what would be called his life had slipped past him. As the few that remained shone like stars in the inky blankness of his mind, those that haven’t have fogged themselves up, surrounding the brilliant memories like the dark, blank night sky.
His life, as he recalled, started in a well worn inn, homely and rustic in its design, filled with a plethora of travelers of all kinds. Here he learned most of his skills, such as tying knots, cooking simple dishes, taking care of horses and camels alike. Plenty of work was also done around an inn, such as cleaning tables, washing dishes, and other boring jobs like fixing the rooms. It made sense, as Hael reflected that his parents would have met here, a lovely innkeeper falling for the charming trader. What he didn't understand was why he doesn't recall ever having a mother figure around such a place, and none of the women whom he interacted with seemed to hold that spark within them.
He grew up soon enough, getting stronger each day, taking on the heavier workloads from the hands of the various innkeepers around. Life was a constant tedium then, but in this memory was the first time he ever went out farther than the next street. He recalls being tasked to handle a certain food delivery, as well as dealing with the market that day. Accompanied by a kindly old man, he recalls learning of the art of trading, and getting into a scuffle over an unfair trade. The next memory he could recall vividly was when his father returned. There was sadness in his eyes as he talked with his caretaker, but a bright cheeriness when they were finally face to face. His remark about his mother’s eyes were something that stuck, and wishing to learn more about her, he chose to travel with him, to which his father delightfully accepted. The first of his travels came a fortnight later, and it was a great test to his patience, as the one had to be meticulous with the preparations, not a single detail was to be off at that time. He met with each of the other members of the caravan, collecting each what they needed that they still didn't have, a look of mild condescension and curiosity visible on all of their faces, but some more hidden than others. The help was appreciated, however, and upon leaving, he was already being accepted as a new member of the team.
A few months later, he started hearing rumors about the special containers that were said to grant wishes. Said to be something akin to Pandora’s Box, tales were whispered beneath hushed tones. This far out of his homeland, it was branded as witchcraft and heresy. However, there was one clear fact behind every whispered word and hushed voice – they were valuable, and astoundingly so. Years came to pass, and this memory was something Hael had never wished had happened. A small music box came into their possession, said to be very important, it was well guarded in the very center of their caravan, with warriors stationed around them. A large sum was paid to his father, he knew that much by his actions alone, but word floated among the members that that was only a fourth of it, that upon delivery, the contract would give out the other three fourths. The sum was quite enough to set each and every member well enough for the next decade or so, and the prospect of such a reward was undeniable. The task was undertaken, and at a price no one ever thought would have paid.
Many accidents were met during their trek back. Most thought it silly coincidence, but everyone knew the real reason. The box carried a curse, and it wasn't one to let itself get dragged around anywhere so easily. Stop after stop more and more of the caravan decided to sign off, knowing full well that getting the item to its destination would come at a terrible cost in the end. But others forged on, fueled by greed and promises, each one seeking a more comfortable state of living. It was all going well, until the last leg of the journey. Bandits seemingly came out of nowhere. The caravan was attacked; its men were cut down left and right. Those that responded quickly knew that they were being overwhelmed. Some attempted to turn tail and run, but were cut down by flying daggers, each mark hitting perfectly, bringing certain death. A vague command from his father came, and Hael ran to the center of the pack, hurriedly digging through with little care for the supplies being turned over. He reached the box and unclasped it, the cover swung open, and the world was ushered into darkness.
A soft, melodious voice. A desperate cry for help. The blinding desert sun in his eyes. A storm raged on, suddenly, and out of nowhere. The boy asked, the box responded. Quickly, and terribly so, his wish had been granted, and they all went away. As shocked faces turned to the eye of the storm, questioning who the boy was and what he was doing there, the sands overtook them, taking each and everyone before any were able to utter a word. His world spun as he clutched something, anything he could find, and the world went out like a light.
0
Cesare wordlessly rifled through the town, shaking his head in defeat as he confirmed with his own eyes how thoroughly the town was razed to the ground. Scorched earth and various litter of what used to be a town lay all around, though oddly enough, much of the carnage that should still be present was gone, and all that remains were dry, dented bones. A horn sounded in the distance, and as he walked to regroup with the others, he caught the tail ends of their conversation. "Well, if everyone's up for a hike, then so am I."
Two days, with a single break. Not very difficult for a halfling - they were well known for being a hardy, indomitable race. Though he marched with confidence, he held his peace, marching with nary a peep, his mind focused on the singular goal of cutting the magic at the source. A short break was taken, where they rested and shared rations, though Cesare was largely content with the one he packed for himself, glad for the variety. With a lighter load, he got up along with the rest once more, and began marching on.
It didn't take long, however, before they were stopped by another one of Drim's summons, a warning of a larger group of skeletons making their move. Quickly bunching up within a nearby opening, they hid for two hours as the skeletons made their way past, during which Cesare decided to simply rest with his back against the wall, keeping his eyes closed as he listened to the rhythmic thrum of the army's march. He opened his eyes once more as the sounds finally faded away, bringing himself back to reality.
Cesare nodded in agreement. "Rest would be good for us, it would be greatly beneficial to be at our best when we finish the last leg of this particular journey." He gave a passing glance at the artifact the golem held, before shaking his head. "I have not encountered it before, either in writing or by word of mouth. It may prove its use to us later, however. It would be best to safeguard it." Taking a short pause, he gave a small smile. "Ah, and forgive me for being scatterbrained earlier. I am Cesare, for those who have yet to know. Now then, I'll be off to sleep."
0
finals approach fast.
but I am always ready.
0
So I have +2 attributes and +1 skill/ability/power in the bank. Will think up what to do with them, weekend's here and I'll forego studying well into the night. Will also make a post in a few hours or so.
Upping my str and mag.
Stats: [STR:2 || DEF: 1 || DEX: 2 || INT: 3 || MAG: 5]
0
finals week sorry
0
Having finished gathering his meager possessions, and acquiring a few more knicks and knacks from the gypsies themselves, Cesare prepared to march once more. Once more arranged into a loose group, they began moving, onwards to the base of the mountain. It was a mostly uneventful walk, something Cesare was appreciative of. Peace seemed harder and harder to come by, and he sighed as they ran across a few bandits, but thankfully, most scattered. As the day drew to a close, with the sky taking on deeper, reddish hues of the setting sun, something of interest finally cropped up. As Drim shushed the group, Cesare drew forward to peer at the object of interest.
A great number of skeletons marched past, many bearing weaponry, led on by others bearing torches. They went about their march unhindered, eyes forward as they took no notice of the group among the foliage, and the low voices within. "Well, I'll be." Cesare gave a short remark as the skeletons began to diversify, initially only composed of largely humanoid ones that soon gave way to larger, bigger, meaner troops. Orc folk, half giants, trolls, a fairly mixed bunch shook the earth as they stepped in the same rhythm, erasing all doubts in Cesare's mind that the plethora of forerunners were no more than cannon fodder.
Finally, the heavy footsteps faded away, and Drim deemed it safe to move. "Well, a private army of that size is trouble regardless of who is warmongering. It might still be worth our while to pick through the town, regardless if it's been razed already. We'd better get a move on, and quickly." He gave a glance up at the peak and frowned as the cloud continued to crackle and rumble, ominous as ever.
0
Drim retired for the night as he ended his tale, and Cesare decided to follow suit. The following morning was filled with general misery as the moonshine hit hard from last night, leaving Cesare thankful for his purge. He spent most of the day helping out in various chores to repay the gypsy's kindness to them. The Knight left in the meantime, carrying his father's body with him. Cesare watched him as he left, soon returning to his work as he vanished over the horizon.
The day thereafter Drim finally awoke, a fact made known to Cesare as the man finally exited his tent. "That good enough of a beauty sleep for you, Drim?" Cesare gave a small smile as he gave him a once over, nodding to himself. "Well, you're up at the very least. Considering how your armor's healed as well, it might not be a bad idea to get it chipped every now and then, considering it does its own maintenance work." With the map out, Cesare figured they were to move again soon enough, and began collecting his things.