Post by Adil Stodz on May 28, 2020 3:20:02 GMT
OOC Name: Laskt
Slayer Position Desired: Blade Devil Slayer
RP Sample:
The moss choked ruins had stood for several millenia, untouched by any mortals but those of the lost and confused. On the surface, there didn’t seem to be anything particularly remarkable about them: there was no trace of gold or riches, jewels or ancient scrolls. The ruins simply were, even as nature slowly reclaimed lost ground.
On one particular bright summer day however, the ruins’ sanctity was breached by the sound of heavy breathing and footfalls, as a golden-haired young man retreated into the mossy stones, blood running down his arms and brow. The young man’s fingers were clenched tight around a pair of twin long-swords, slick with blood on both their hand-grips and naked blades as the red shone in the noonday sun.
Adil Stodz calmed his breathing, slowly walking backwards further and further into the scant concealment the ruins offered, his eyes darting to and fro, scanning for further enemies. The novice smith knew he had been lucky to have found this place, as the magical energy practically flowing from the ancient stones easily masked his own, faint signature. The bandits that had attacked him must have had one sensitive to the flows of magic to have ambushed him so efficiently, they must have! The only other option was that the swordsman had made a mistake, and that was perhaps even more disconcerting!
Adil grimaced as the though passed through his mind, taking his eyes off the wilderness for a few seconds to glance down at his left-hand blade, sneering at the slight nick that had appeared. Without breaking side, the wanderer dropped the blade, leaving it behind to the mercy of the elements.
Unfortunately, all the information flying through Adil’s mind had somewhat compromised his spatial awareness, as was proven when his foot caught on the lip of an ancient fountain-pool. Biting back a curse, Adil desperately tried to reclaim his balance, but it was too late. The wanderer fell backwards, smashing through the rotten wooden bottom before falling into darkness…..
Adil awoke sometime later, sore, groaning, and not particularly pleased. His red eyes strained to pierce the gloom, but the darkness seemed almost absolute. Suddenly, a light burst forth, emanating in radiant waves from a single object.
A single sword.
Adil’s eyes widened as he drank in the blade’s naked perfection, it’s shining flawlessness. He took an involuntary step forward before his survival instinct kicked back in and he shot backward.
Hair rose on the back of the swordsman’s neck as dozens upon dozens of blades slammed point first into the ground he had just been standing on, perforating the bare stone with dozens of swords, sunk up to the haft.
“Interesting….”
The word echoed throughout the cavern, filled with a sense of thoughtfulness and surprise. Adil’s hand shot to the sheath on his back, before he remembered the absence of his weapons.
“How many years has it been since a mortal has provided me some entertainment before it dies? Must be several hundred. So many humans are so regrettably slow.”
The white light pouring from the blade widened, revealing dozens of sets of bleached bones, lying here and there on the cavern floor. Adil barely noticed the change, still gaping at the sight before him. He collapsed to his knees, bowing his head.
“Please ancient one. Teach me your ways. I must achieve such perfection such as this.” He pleaded, not daring to look up. There was a long, pregnant pause.
“You….you think to learn the art of blacksmithing from me?" The voice boomed; the previous tone of boredom replaced by a hint of morbid curiosity. "Many have come here, but mostly they came to slay an ancient evil, or to steal some ancient artifact of power from a time long lost. Not one thought a whit more of this blade then the power it would bring them. Yet yours is by far the most arrogant request."
The light darkened, reverting to a sooty red like the glow of a hooded lantern. Swirls of darkness resolved itself into a tall horned figure, dozens of swords belted on its back and waist. It reached down with a clawed hand, forcing Adil’s head up and examining him closely with six red eyes, looking for something. The demon clicked its fingers and a half-sheared blade leapt from the spot where Adil had fallen, flying into the figure’s palm. It examined it closely, clucking its tongue disapprovingly before crushing it to powder.
“Shoddy craftmanship, poor technique. Although I will admit quite skilled for a low being such as yourself.” The demon muttered, almost to itself as it stared down at the prostrated Adil for several tense seconds. “….Fine, it irks me to see such a stain as yourself go uncorrected. I will instruct you to a basic level of competence, although I will not be gentle. Many have died under my tutelage, others have suffered far grimmer fates. Are you willing to brave the pain, or would you rather remain among the tomb of the dead.”
Adil simply smirked, and rose to his feet, only for the expression to morph to agony as the demon shoved the radiant blade into his hands. Magic power poured from the swords, flowing into Adil's veins like a river of magma. The young smith screamed and fell twitching to the ground, steam rising from his pores and nostrils. The demon snorted, retrieving the blade and boiling off Adil's fingerprints with a surge of magical energy.
"Now to see if he survives the first test."
Slayer Position Desired: Blade Devil Slayer
RP Sample:
The moss choked ruins had stood for several millenia, untouched by any mortals but those of the lost and confused. On the surface, there didn’t seem to be anything particularly remarkable about them: there was no trace of gold or riches, jewels or ancient scrolls. The ruins simply were, even as nature slowly reclaimed lost ground.
On one particular bright summer day however, the ruins’ sanctity was breached by the sound of heavy breathing and footfalls, as a golden-haired young man retreated into the mossy stones, blood running down his arms and brow. The young man’s fingers were clenched tight around a pair of twin long-swords, slick with blood on both their hand-grips and naked blades as the red shone in the noonday sun.
Adil Stodz calmed his breathing, slowly walking backwards further and further into the scant concealment the ruins offered, his eyes darting to and fro, scanning for further enemies. The novice smith knew he had been lucky to have found this place, as the magical energy practically flowing from the ancient stones easily masked his own, faint signature. The bandits that had attacked him must have had one sensitive to the flows of magic to have ambushed him so efficiently, they must have! The only other option was that the swordsman had made a mistake, and that was perhaps even more disconcerting!
Adil grimaced as the though passed through his mind, taking his eyes off the wilderness for a few seconds to glance down at his left-hand blade, sneering at the slight nick that had appeared. Without breaking side, the wanderer dropped the blade, leaving it behind to the mercy of the elements.
Unfortunately, all the information flying through Adil’s mind had somewhat compromised his spatial awareness, as was proven when his foot caught on the lip of an ancient fountain-pool. Biting back a curse, Adil desperately tried to reclaim his balance, but it was too late. The wanderer fell backwards, smashing through the rotten wooden bottom before falling into darkness…..
Adil awoke sometime later, sore, groaning, and not particularly pleased. His red eyes strained to pierce the gloom, but the darkness seemed almost absolute. Suddenly, a light burst forth, emanating in radiant waves from a single object.
A single sword.
Adil’s eyes widened as he drank in the blade’s naked perfection, it’s shining flawlessness. He took an involuntary step forward before his survival instinct kicked back in and he shot backward.
Hair rose on the back of the swordsman’s neck as dozens upon dozens of blades slammed point first into the ground he had just been standing on, perforating the bare stone with dozens of swords, sunk up to the haft.
“Interesting….”
The word echoed throughout the cavern, filled with a sense of thoughtfulness and surprise. Adil’s hand shot to the sheath on his back, before he remembered the absence of his weapons.
“How many years has it been since a mortal has provided me some entertainment before it dies? Must be several hundred. So many humans are so regrettably slow.”
The white light pouring from the blade widened, revealing dozens of sets of bleached bones, lying here and there on the cavern floor. Adil barely noticed the change, still gaping at the sight before him. He collapsed to his knees, bowing his head.
“Please ancient one. Teach me your ways. I must achieve such perfection such as this.” He pleaded, not daring to look up. There was a long, pregnant pause.
“You….you think to learn the art of blacksmithing from me?" The voice boomed; the previous tone of boredom replaced by a hint of morbid curiosity. "Many have come here, but mostly they came to slay an ancient evil, or to steal some ancient artifact of power from a time long lost. Not one thought a whit more of this blade then the power it would bring them. Yet yours is by far the most arrogant request."
The light darkened, reverting to a sooty red like the glow of a hooded lantern. Swirls of darkness resolved itself into a tall horned figure, dozens of swords belted on its back and waist. It reached down with a clawed hand, forcing Adil’s head up and examining him closely with six red eyes, looking for something. The demon clicked its fingers and a half-sheared blade leapt from the spot where Adil had fallen, flying into the figure’s palm. It examined it closely, clucking its tongue disapprovingly before crushing it to powder.
“Shoddy craftmanship, poor technique. Although I will admit quite skilled for a low being such as yourself.” The demon muttered, almost to itself as it stared down at the prostrated Adil for several tense seconds. “….Fine, it irks me to see such a stain as yourself go uncorrected. I will instruct you to a basic level of competence, although I will not be gentle. Many have died under my tutelage, others have suffered far grimmer fates. Are you willing to brave the pain, or would you rather remain among the tomb of the dead.”
Adil simply smirked, and rose to his feet, only for the expression to morph to agony as the demon shoved the radiant blade into his hands. Magic power poured from the swords, flowing into Adil's veins like a river of magma. The young smith screamed and fell twitching to the ground, steam rising from his pores and nostrils. The demon snorted, retrieving the blade and boiling off Adil's fingerprints with a surge of magical energy.
"Now to see if he survives the first test."