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Crossroads
Topic Started: 4 May 2011, 12:03 AM (1,154 Views)
Qen-Rae
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Ngye passed Firrah´s sentence with a mere frown. His continously mocking attitude and disrespect was slowly annoying him. But again, there was nothing easier than to make a small ´mistake´ during the converting, was there? Once the warrior is a mindless undead ghoul...

He narrowed his eye oven more when he saw the large smile. And what was that gesture, was he really trying to put his hand on his shoulder?

Nive watched Firrah silently.

The moment he tried to wrap his arm around Ngye´s shoulder, the mage turned and pushed it off. "What are you trying to do, mortal scum!" he shouted on Firrah. "I can see your-"

A sphere of light hit his face.

The boy was standing there, probably more shocked by what he did than the actual ´person´ that was hit. He never used white magic in offence.

"So that´s the truth!"
Ngye´s voice thundered as he swinged his sharp, iron staff against Firrah. "A traitor!" His cloak fell down the undead figure. "...and his little pesky pet..." he added, backing from the warrior and staring on Nive. He stood with his back towards a wall, with the staff as a mace in his ´living´ hand and cocked blades inbuilt in the skeletal one. The light spell took off what was left of his face. There was nothing more than an empty skull full of nether, gazing on the boy. "Nirka!" he shouted on the banshee. "Take the old man down, I will take care of the boy, personally."

Silence.

One of the soldiers on the floor of the tavern raised slowly, taking out his sword and pointing it on Ngye.

"No. I won´t."

"Another traitor! Isn´t this marvelous!" the mage said in sarcasm, measuring his foes by sight. "You should know what happens to the ones who stand againt the Order, Nirka..." He moved his hands together. "A mage like me is never alone." On his living hand, there was a set of rings, perhaps a dozen of them...

"Warrior! The rings! He must not use them!"
"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."
- Shakespeare
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Firrah Duerurt
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Being pushed aside by Nyge, Firrah looks at him and growls dropping his dagger and drawing out his twin battle axes, but when the energy of light flies over and hits Nyge in the face. Firrah looks at the boy for a moment smiling and nodding.

Taking a step forward swinging both axes in a swirling side way arc trying to end the matter quickly by aiming for the head.

As he does this Firrah shouts out to the boy, aftering hearing Nirka's warning: "Keep going Nive, go for the hands!"
"Some men aren't looking for anything logical. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men, just like Firrah Duerurt, just want to watch the world burn."

- Bounty Hunter, two hours before being assassinated by Firrah.
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Qen-Rae
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Firrah´s attack by axe made the mage draw his wand into both hands and block the hit. It was made to serve as a weapon. And now, it saved Ngye´s neck.

"Oh, isn´t it great? Tell me... which one of us has more strengh, warrior?" He grinned, pushing the axe over. "An undead with no limits nor pain... or a dead human?" the skull smiled on Firrah victoriously. He was holding the wand by a mere single hand now, but still possessed enough power to push Firrah´s weapon aside. "You have no idea what are you playing with!" He lashed by his free hand and hit Nirka in the soldier´s body remotely, knocking her down.

"What can you do to me now, banshee? Die on the floor? Rix!" he started to strangle the body she possessed.

At the moment, another white spell hit his hand, disrupting his own, setting the soldier free again.

"That was... weak." the dark mage looked up on Nive. "See if you can dodge this!" The flash of a killing curse flew through the room.

Surprisingly, the boy wasn´t hit. Somehow, he dissolved the nether thrown at him by shielding himself with hands. It made the mage stare for a second, before making his next move.

"Fine... then take it the harder way!" Ngye switched the target of his attention and swinged with his hand armed with blades, a huge arc aiming for Firrah´s chest.
"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."
- Shakespeare
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Firrah Duerurt
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Jumping back, taking back his savage form, his face contorting into a angry savage visage. Firrah bared his teeth like some kind of animal growling tapping into his inner animal and rage, his heart began beating like a giant beating on drums. Taking the advantage of Nive's spell and distraction.

"I am not dead yet!" Firrah growls, charging forward waving his arms around in a wild whirl wind of steel fury. "I know what I am playing with, an undead abomination that should be fully dead!"
"Some men aren't looking for anything logical. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men, just like Firrah Duerurt, just want to watch the world burn."

- Bounty Hunter, two hours before being assassinated by Firrah.
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Qen-Rae
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The mage grinned when Firrah jumped away from the reach of his attack. "You might be not yet... but soon you will be!" he lashed with his hand towards the warrior.

Surprisingly for him, the spell he aimed on Firrah didn´t work precisely the way he expected it to.

It didn´t throw the warrior into the air. Instead, a deflected shockwave broke out of the tavern, through crashing all the windows, and knocked down both Nive and Nirka again. It killed the lights of all candles in the room, all aside of the main fireplace. Shade fell over the place.

Before the mage realised what happened, the undisturbed charge of half-barbarian hit him.

He fell on his back to the floor, with a loud cling of his weaponry. The iron staff, his trusted weapon, fell out of his hand and rolled away from him.

"Who are you?" If he wasn´t an undead creature, one would say Ngye gasped for breath. "You cannot do this!" For a single tiny moment, there was a doubt in his voice.

Then he swinged his blade-arm, aiming to catch Firrah´s neck.
"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."
- Shakespeare
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Firrah Duerurt
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Rolling back on to his heels Firrah, the blade skittering along his cuirass smiling with satisfaction but still sweating when the blade hit his chest. Taking a step back pulling back his cloak to show Nyge his "souvenir".

"Like my new armour? You sent a warrior who has questionable loyalty to kill a man with armour that negates magic, do you really think that I wouldn't take the armour? I thought you would anticipate that. This is childs play."

Jumping back from the attack but the blades nick his neck, nothing major but a long cut ran across his neck with blood flowing down on his chest.

"I am Firrah Duerurt of the Black Lion tribe! The Black Beast of the gladiator pits! I am your demise!"

Roaring this, Firrah raises both arms over his head and swings down both axes down going Nyge's head.

"See you in the Hells!"
"Some men aren't looking for anything logical. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men, just like Firrah Duerurt, just want to watch the world burn."

- Bounty Hunter, two hours before being assassinated by Firrah.
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Qen-Rae
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The mage stared at the armour. This wasn´t supposed to happen. He knew the general had it in his possession, but-

"Nirka!"

These were his last words.

It was too late to block the axes crushing his skull. They went through, leaving nothing but a torso of his head and pieces of bones after their deed was done. The moment the head was destroyed, the rest of the undead body laid lifeless on the floor. Actually, the blow Firrah developed was strong enough to make the axes cut into the wooden surface under the mage.

"Is it... over?" Nive shyly asked after a few moments of silence. He stared at the place Ngye stood not so long time ago - and FIrrah, with his wound on neck and weapons still in hands.

"It is not."

Nirka was just getting up from the floor unsurely, still in the soldier´s body. "He is not dead yet."

"No?! But-"

"His master will ressurect him. And then, the real trouble will begin,"
the soldier limped across the room, towards Firrah. "We should... make our best to use the time we have right now. He left his belongings here," she said, picking up the mage´s staff and poking his lifeless hand with its end. "...and quite well-priced ones, needless to say."
"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."
- Shakespeare
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Firrah Duerurt
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Walking a little woozily his vision blurring, the wound on his neck burning as if someone was holding a small flame to his neck. Re-sheathing his weapons, Firrah realized how close he came to death, wiping the blood slowly away he looks at his companions.

"Nirka, you and I will get his belongings. Nive you get the most potent alcohol you can find, and oil bring some oil as well we will need it."

Crouching down next to the body, Firrah looked at the body in disgust he looks up at Nirka.

"I asked to have my body changed to that of a nineteen year old and become immortal. Is this what they would have turned me into?"

Spitting on the remains of the body of Nyge, Firrah starts to take the rings and other things that seem important away from the body.
"Some men aren't looking for anything logical. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men, just like Firrah Duerurt, just want to watch the world burn."

- Bounty Hunter, two hours before being assassinated by Firrah.
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Qen-Rae
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"Belongings sound fine to me. From this thing..." she passed with hands on the staff, looking on it closely, "...to the rings you are taking. Anchors of souls of members of the Order under him. With those in your hand, I believe we have upper hand over Allegia and many others. Just see the numbers of those..." she pointed on Ngye´s hand. There were at least twenty of rings stuffed on his fingers. "At least until an alarm raises."

"Oil? But you are wounded-" Nive walked towards Firrah, pointing on the blood on his neck. The hand of the white mage started glowing with light energy he summoned to his palm. "I can heal that, if you let me."

"Heh. Of course, they might´ve did this to you," Nirka remarked on the warrior´s question, continuing to inspect the staff. "It would depend on your wishes. Ngye wanted to look intimading, and he loved the hidden weapons he had in his bony half. Just look closely on the arm with the blades... But, if you ask me, I think he would turn you to a slave. A mindless ghoul following his orders. There would be no return for you then."

She passed with her hand over the head of the dark mage´s staff, whispering several words in Kenthra. The staff shook and resonated in a low tone, numerous of other voices whispering back.

"...just like all the banshees bound within this staff," she said shortly.

"Inside?? Do you mean-"

"It is a staff of necromancer. He used this not only for fighting and performing spells, but also for summoning undead," her hand passed the head of the weapon once more, with the very same words. "There is at least a hundred of banshees imprisoned inside Pretty much as my fate was supposed to be."

"Are you going to... destroy it?"

"Not yet. Why destroy such a priced artifact? I have my plans with this particular piece of loot we got. With this even I can raise undead..." she grinned. "We better leave soon, tho," the joy of obtaining of the staff quickly faded from her face. "Take all we need and go. Time is running, the moment the Order finds out their member was slain, they will storm this place."
"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."
- Shakespeare
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Firrah Duerurt
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"I think you are better suited to using the rings and staff Nirka. Nive heal my neck now!"

Firrah growingly angry and frustrated by the stinging and burning sensation of the neck wound. Rubbing his neck, looking at the blood on his fingers, Firrah spat a thick wad of blood and spit.

"When you are finished with my neck Nive get oil and alcohol, I want to burn this body. It might decrease the chances of his return."

Growling slightly listening to the conversation Firrah looks around the room considering what he was going to do. Taking whatever weapons he can from Nyge's body Firrah gets up and walks over to the unconscious patrons and starts going through their money pouches.

"We are going to destroy the staff later on, we can't let these weapons and artefacts get in their hands."
"Some men aren't looking for anything logical. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men, just like Firrah Duerurt, just want to watch the world burn."

- Bounty Hunter, two hours before being assassinated by Firrah.
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