Code of the Sword

August 14, 2008, 4:47 AM

It had been a long time indeed, since he last thought of this. He still could not help but think if he were to blame, maybe things would have turned out diffrently. Zerek picked up a napkin and whiped his mouth, of what little liquid was on it, setting his glass down with the other hand. As the barkeep saw this he went over to fill Zerek's half empty glass, but Zerek covered his glass, "That's enough for me now Greg, I've had enough tonight." Walking out of the bar finally after paying for his drinks Zerek looks up to the sky, realizing once again there of course was nothing that he could have done. After all he would most likely have been captured with the rest of his friends. "I once again failed to protect those close to me."

Times were uneasy now and many people on edge. The town of Gazis finally seeing the true face of the war unfolding. Many of it's young people were just recently taken away by both sides to fight for the so called just cause. Mostly young men were taken, and some but very little women. It really was difficult situation, being in the middle of the two nation's land. To there West was the nation Kitel ruled by Maria, and to there North was the nation of Trigton, ruled by someone unknown. Both sides have been fighting for years now, with no end in sight. Zerek once again slumps his head as he walks down to his house, wishing again that he could have done something. The familiar clank well now familiar clank reminded him of why he was gone. He decided to travel south to a small blacksmith town, he couldnt even remember the name of it right now. It was there he had this spear crafted.

Finally getting home, he lays down in his bed. Dust flying everywhere, a sign that shows a signifficant lack of use or maybe just the owner is to lazy to clean. Falling asleep he does not realize what is about to befall him, the road he is about to embark on and the destiny that soon awaits him. All this as he is not aware of another raid about to come straight through his town.

August 20, 2008, 11:14 PM

((OOC: Apologies for the delay in posting; I've been working my ass off lately, so I haven't had much time. But, here's my first post. This is an introductory post to the RP, from Felldoh's point of view. He won't be submerged into the storyline until the next post, but this is to give the readers and my fellow RPers a better idea of where he's coming from.))

Left, right, front, back, all around! Vermin crowded Felldoh, nearly two-score of them. His javelin flashed like lightning, few of them daring to come near the flailing spear. Those that did were slain within a heartbeat, none being a match for the deadly squirrel. But even Felldoh could not delay the inevitable.

But he would take as many of them with him as possible.

Three lay dead at Felldoh's footpaws: a weasel and two rats. They had been ushered on by their comrades, and met their end at the point of the javelin. The weasel's throat had been rent open by the sharpened stick, and the two rats lay dead with giant holes in their bodies. The first rat was lucky; a thrust through the chest was a lot less painful than it was through the head.

A fox jumped forth, waving his cutlass wildly. Felldoh neatly sidestepped the attack, ducking a swipe from a ferret's dagger. He thrust the blunt end of the javelin backwards and upwards as he turned, crushing the throat of the ferret in a single blow. The figure crumpled pitifully as Felldoh swung the pointed end of the javelin towards the fox, impaling it in the shoulder. One quick swipe across the chest sent the fox to the gates of the Dark Forest.

Five dead, but still more to go. Felldoh's javelin flashed through the air, finding its mark in the chest of another weasel, not three feet away from the squirrel. Felldoh lunged forward, drawing the javelin from its dead sheath. He rushed into the bulk of the surrounding horde, jabbing left and right, lunging and thrusting as he battled his way. Three more lay dead.

One fox got lucky. His dagger swiped Felldoh's back, laying it open. Felldoh roared in pain and whirled around, his javelin ripping the creature's gut open as he slashed in a berserk frenzy.

That was the ninth.

Felldoh's roars were his death throes. He was going to die, he knew that. But still, he would not stop fighting. Always the warrior: that was Felldoh's way.

August 21, 2008, 12:18 AM

Zeria was asleep up in a hammock she'd tied and pinned to some branches high up in the trees of a forest near the town. She'd had a long day of training and was comfortable up in nature. A gentle breeze blew through her and she yawned softly, her eyes fluttering open to reflect the light. She blinked a few times, then sat up and moved out of the hammock onto a branch, unpinning it and packing it in her bag.

"It's going to be another tough day for me. More training, and I'm going to search for someone who knows more about this Nature Blade of mine"

She stretched and made sure all 3 of her blades were strapped on. The two she used to dual-wield and the Nature Blade she'd found a while back. She leapt down from branch to branch, until she reached the forest floor, her boots crunching on the dirt and her gear making a soft clank as she landed.

"To the town I go..."

Thus, she began her long-strided walk into the town...