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| A Slippery Slope; Open! | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 17 2016, 07:05 AM (381 Views) | |
| Aniketos | Feb 17 2016, 07:05 AM Post #1 |
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Unter friedlichen Umständen fällt der kriegerische Mensch über sich selber her.
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Winter had come late, after a long and balmy autumn, but oh, when it did, it did so bitterly! The winter air slapped Aniketos in the face when he walked out of the Guildhall; he immediately tensed up against it, his pretty crinkling into a frown. Already he regretted promising the pompous Councillor Pomorus to go out for a drink. He could have just retreated to his office, stepped into the circle that would take him back into his home in Reine without ever having to face the cold. You've gotten soft, Aniketos thought, You used to spend whole winters bivouacking in the woods, now look! He had lost some weight – it was hard, for some reason, to eat these days – perhaps that was why. Councillor Pomorus, that immense man in both girth and height, seemed to inflate even further against the cold, like a bird that fluffs up its feathers against the wind. "Oh, what weather this is!" he emitted, deflating a little with those gusty words. It had been snowing when they had gone into the Guildhall that morning, but now it had stopped. While they had been in congress, hemming and hawing over the treasury and next year's taxes, the streets had been cleared of snow and now the cobbled circle surrounding the Guildhall, which stood at the tippy-top of the Capitol Hill, glistened beautifully under a halo of enchanted lights. "At least it's pretty," said Aniketos in begrudging acknowledgement, still trying to encourage himself to go outside. "That's something, right?" Some other Councillors – Mirahim Vaal, wrapped up in furst, and Taten Ramsley, shoving a hat over his wiry hair – came up behind them, and their implied pressure finally forced Aniketos and Pomorus out of doors. Aniketos' foot shifted unsteadily under him; the ground was unexpectedly frictionless. All that pretty glistening, he realised, was ice. "Oh gods," said Aniketos, catching Pomorus' sleeve to steady himself. Gaustus Pomorus was so enormous that he appeared unmoveable. Indeed, his feet shifted only a little, and Aniketos was saved from making a total ass of himself in front of them all. "Oh dear!" exclaimed Pomorus, a chuckle gusting through his impressive moustache. His broad, warm hand patted Aniketos' slim one. "Looks like we're in for an adventure!" "It didn't just snow!" exclaimed Mirahim when her feet hit the ice, "It snowed, and then it iced!" "Gods above," said Ramsley, "It'll be a miracle if we don't break our necks." "No, it's fine," said Aniketos, slipping his feet across the sheen of ice. There were parts where the snow was piled up or untouched, and he reached an island of it and, with satisfaction thrust his boots into the snow. The layer of ice on top crunched deliciously under his feet; the snow, full of friction, held him firm. "See, we just have to walk on the snow." The other Councillors followed his lead like a small flock of geese, gabbling and laughing as they made their passage over the river of ice to the safe snowbank. Actually, Aniketos did not feel like am other goose leading her young: more like a general once again, navigating dangerous lands at the head of his band of warriors. One hand on the hilt at his hip, he stood with his back erect and ignored the cold, feeling the hot thrum of blood through his core. He surveyed the landscape ahead, his imagination boiling up around his eyes like a child's, enlarging everything to an epic scale. The bitter wind whipped up, swept veils of snow off the high roofs of the surrounding buildings. The looming edifices of those guild headquarters became to him vast cliffs, which formed a ring around them, as if they stood in some fantastical circular canyon. We must leave, he thought, and the only way out was across another iced river, towards another snowbank, and then – oh, that might be problematic, he thought –they had to get down the hill. Well, there would have to be a way. "Where there's a will, there's a way!" he crowed at them, and set out across the second icy river, his little army of goslings hobbling behind. He skated across the ice, enjoying himself quite ab it actually, then made a safe landing on the opposite bank. Behind him, Mirahim almost full, but saved herself by grabbing onto Pomorus, who bore her misstep with laughter. Aniketos crunched through the snow, rounding the circumference of their little canyon, and peered down the road that led down the side of the hill. If only the snow here had been left untouched! As such it was a long glistening slope of death. But still, he could see some brave souls making their way down, their laughter and talk carried on the wind. The snow had been piled up on either side of the street, heaped up against the buildings. Thought it had not snowed much today, Madrid had been subjected to a blizzard just the week before, so these piles were heaped right up to the windows at some points. The one closest to them – on the left side of the street – was worse, he judged. They'd have to just walk right over that mountain-range, sinking ankle-deep into the snow. However, if they crossed over to the other side, they could walk alongside the other snowbank, which had a sort of strip of not-so-deep snow running alongside those steep hills of tumbled snow. They could walk down it single-file – that's what he saw the other party doing, and they were already almost at the bottom of the hill. So he went out to cross, and, with his feet on the ice, he made to point out that strip and his plan. But the momentary distraction this required was too much: in the middle of his first syllable his feet went out from under him and he landed, hard, on his ass. There was an eruption of laughter from his crew, and he was at first willing to laugh too, but as he tried to stand, the ice betrayed him again. He fell onto his rear once more, but this time with a forward momentum that carried him over the brink of the hill. To his horror, he slid down, gathering speed, until he was shooting down the hill on his ass, limbs flailing as he tried to stop himself. Seriously? he thought, hearing the Councillor's laughter get more and more distant, Seriously?! |
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| Neriasis | Feb 17 2016, 09:25 AM Post #2 |
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Ex-God of Order
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The snow and ice suited him, perhaps because of some of the magic he possessed or just his demeanor. Whichever it was the drow was enjoying the late winter. Sure it meant more people crowded into buildings held by Argos, but that was their function. It was hard for him to turn away any of those pleading faces; at least as Ni’ab it was hard. The angel had a reputation and image to live up to. But the drow in him held little pity for…well anyone. There would always be some use in the poor and downtrodden, and he was milking that for all it was worth. Provide shelter, food and work for the less fortunate and one could build a small army. Loyalty on the other hand was a little harder to gain; these people had flighty instincts, thus also building a repertoire with the less savory types was called for. Criminals Argos might be, but loyalty could be gained with actions. So far things had been good, but it was always nice to get out and away from the noise of leadership. Magic was a wondrous thing and Neriasis had found something of a magical hairstylist tucked away in the upper rungs of Madrid. This meant that if he so wished to run around without the shroud of illusion that made his appearance into Ni’ab all he had do was give the kind lady a visit pay her a few coin and poof his hair was a starless night blue. Stars were extra, not to mention a bit too gaudy even for the drow’s taste. It had almost slipped his mind to pull on warmer clothes, but he had checked himself before leaving the underground shelter he called home. Black dyed wool, woven so meticulously tight to shed water with the help of a coating of beeswax, lay beneath the white leather that adorned his abdomen, shoulder, arms and legs. Each piece separate from the other, covering vital points, though leaving others exposed, it was the armor of someone who valued mobility over full-body protection, a skilled acrobatic fighter. Or perhaps just someone who did not expect to get into a fight with someone with a larger weapon and more armor than he. Upon closer inspection one could notice that the leather was of a curious quality, slightly bubbled in texture like that of reptile flesh. And like most of the armor the drow wore it bore the spider of Argos, etched in icy blue across the chest piece. The drow also wore a warm winter cloak of black bear skin, and a purple scarf around his neck nestled lovingly under his chin. The chill of the air didn’t seem to bother him much, though his face did seem a little darker in the cheeks. His silent wanderings came to an abrupt halt as something heavy took the legs right out from under him. Barely given enough time to blink much less cry out as he landed unceremoniously on his ass and shoulder as he managed to roll to the side before getting the wind fully knocked out of him. A particularly colorful string of drow insults left his lips as he red eyes peered around for the source of his sudden departure to the ground. ’Oh…shit,’ his mind not quite processing the predicament he may have found himself in. But it had been a long time since they had come face to face, and his appearance has been a bit different then. Perhaps Aniketos was the type to get the faces of other races confused, but just in case he shuffled the scarf up over his mouth and nose, easily excusable due to the weather. Neriasis pushed himself back up onto his feet; the ice hardly seemed to concern him. He could offer Aniketos a hand but the further apart their faces remained the better. Best to feign angry drow, that was a common enough stereotype with humans, right? “Maybe you ought to stay inside next you think to venture out in this weather, it does not suit your delicate sensibilities,” he huffed, his voice muffled by the scarf, “Probably already blooming bright purple flowers over your milky skin.” 'Don't over sell it,' he told himself, but it really was hard for him not to verbally lash out when he got the chance. |
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| Aniketos | Apr 17 2016, 04:44 PM Post #3 |
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Unter friedlichen Umständen fällt der kriegerische Mensch über sich selber her.
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Aniketos saw the man before he ran into him. He was going so fast that he didn't even have time to cry out to him, he just smacked right into him and brought him down too. At least his slowed his momentum and sent him off in a different direction. He spun across a side street and, thank gods, came to a stop. He waited a moment before getting up, not trusting his own feet, his shaking limbs and pounding heart. The stranger was already on his feet, saying with derision: "Maybe you ought to stay inside next you think to venture out in this weather, it does not suit your delicate sensibilities." Oh, so he had been recognised. Aniketos' face coiled grotesquely into an expression of anger. How he hated this about politics! People recognised and judged him wherever he went, based their understanding of him off the nearest hearsay, not off the truth of his soldiership and all the work he– “Probably already blooming bright purple flowers over your milky skin." Aniketos' skin crawled. He got clumsily up to his feet - he wished he could have leapt up like a warrior in an epic, but he surely would have fallen again – and once up said, "Well, that's nice. Glad I landed you on your ass then, sounds like you deserved it." He couldn't see the stranger's face: the street was dark and he had a scarf up to his cheeks. This, and the aura of contempt that floated on the air, disturbed Aniketos. He looked up the hill: Mirahim and Pmorous and Ramsley were picking their way down, but slowly. He couldn't wait for an excuse to leave, or for the stranger to leave first. Suspicion tingled in his veins, along with the first hints of magic. He was ready to defend himself, for he worried, even though it was silly, that it would be necessary. And yet, he found himself prodding the dragon, looking for a fight, something to vent his spleen on. "Get away from me, you insufferable creature. Come near me and I'll cut your face off." |
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| Neriasis | May 9 2016, 07:34 AM Post #4 |
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Ex-God of Order
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A smile prickled up the corners of his mouth, though his scarf did obscure it, the smile played defiantly in his eyes. This was all too perfect an opportunity, though it would be a foolish endeavor to out himself here and now. But with his eyes set more towards Ashoka these past few months he could afford to lose some footing in Madrid. Though if he failed in Ashoka and lost footing in Madrid, there would be nothing for him to fall back on. What was ambition without a little risk taking though? A finger reached up to pull the scarf down and he greeted Aniketos with a wicked toothy grin. Maybe he could drive the councilor a bit insane, knock his around enough that he would not know reality from a nightmare. “I would like to see you try, Councilor Hesperés,” he clicked his tongue to the top of his mouth at that. Hands coming up a black mist forming between them then extending past each hand before solidifying into a polearm with shaft and blade both black in appearance. “Curious how we’ve never actually come to blows. What a boring way to wage a personal war,” he mused running a hand down the shaft of the weapon while eyeing Aniketos with more amusement than disdain. The only thing personal for Neriasis about this grudge the two of them had was that he’d simply picked the other out as a target for his aggression. “Maybe you’ll succeed where other’s haven’t,” teased the drow sliding his foot back into a defensive stance as he prepared one more verbal jab at Aniketos, “though I doubt it, you couldn’t even save your child.” |
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| Aniketos | Jun 8 2016, 08:23 AM Post #5 |
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Unter friedlichen Umständen fällt der kriegerische Mensch über sich selber her.
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Horror prickled up Aniketos' spine and he tried to look closer at those eyes, but all he could see was the hard glint of the street lamps and the shadowy-ness of his skin, which in this light could be of any shade. Everything he said, however, was too relevant; it scared him. Letting him talk, Aniketos tore a hole in reality and reached into his storage space, pulling Eiletheia out of her sheath. Since the tear was facing the stranger, he would see nothing: it would seem that Aniketos was simply pulling the sword out of nowhere and hten hefting her, the blade reflecting purple. This was the very blade which had changed its nature in Neriasis' brothel, under the power of Kaahn's dream magic. "Who are you?" asked Aniketos, summoning up a stream of magic and splitting it into two. One channel went to the ice under his feet, which melted into water. The water moved at his command to cover the ice between them, making it more slick. He, then, would be able to stand sturdily, so long as it was in this patch, which currently was about two feet wide. He worked then on melting the ice behind him, so he would have some room to retreat into. The other channel of magic he held in his hand for a moment, until he said, "Show your self!" Then he unleashed the magic, which wrenched at the man's scarf, made it thrash like a snake, intent not only on showing his face, but also on wrapping around his throat and strangling him. |
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| Neriasis | Jun 13 2016, 07:44 AM Post #6 |
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“You know who I am, the real question is: are you dreaming?” teased the drow as he produced a small glass flask from a hidden pocket. Moving the polearm into a one handed grip in the process. He did not immediately toss the flask, due to the sudden erratic behavior of the scarf. Giving a soft sigh he focused his own magic into the scarf awakening the enchantment in it so that it could anchor itself to the drow with shadowy hands in a way that would not strangle him. Such a shame though it had been keeping his neck rather warm compared to the cold air that wafted through the streets. “I worry for your health if you are just imagining things,” he purred, hefting the flask and giving it an under handed toss towards Aniketos, “here catch.” He threw it soft enough that it might not break on contact if it were to hit the other in the chest, but if it hit the ground it certainly would break. And should the other catch it the drow had a spell brewing to heat the liquid inside to a point where the glass would break anyway or at the very least the stopper would come out. He simply needed the other to get a whiff of the liquid; a poison called Illithid Mindscorch, it wasn’t deadly but it was disorienting. There could be a lot of fun to be had if the councilor were to think this all a trick of the mind. Once again Neriasis gripped the polearm with both hands. When it came to non-magical combat he had an advantage in reach. His style had not always been such, but he’d adapted to a more distant combat style. Though on occasion it did leave something to be desired, there were few instances where he got in close and personal any more. If he were to be honest with himself he would have preferred to abandon magic and weapon alike and just take Aniketos on in hand to hand melee; he could not recall the last time he’d engaged in such sport. Too bad that there was such soured experience between the two for such a fight. “A shame to think that at one point we could have had such a beautiful alliance,” the drow lamented before he finally struck. Sweeping in with a low blow, using the ice to carry his movements by sliding and shuffling his feet across the ground. Stopping his momentum with the rough texture of the ground beneath the ice, boot crunching through to the stone below, stance wide but still guarded due to the nature of his weapon. Spells Used/Potentially Used
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| Aniketos | Aug 13 2016, 09:48 PM Post #7 |
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Unter friedlichen Umständen fällt der kriegerische Mensch über sich selber her.
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Aniketos glanced up the hill while the man talked, and saw that the other Councillors were still picking their way down the hill, their laughter floating on the breeze. Evidently they had not noticed the trouble Aniketos had gotten himself into – after all, it was quite dark down here. But still, they were coming, they would be here soon, here to help Aniketos or help clean up the mess he hoped to make of this man. The purr of that voice was so personal, so familiar. Aniketos felt that maybe he was imagining things. Uncertainty bloomed in his heart. Could it-? But it can't be- Aniketos sent his mind forward to wash around this man, just in time to catch the forward thrust of his malignant intent. Something glittering traced an arc in the air and, stupidly, like a man playing bat-and-ball, Aniketos swung his sword at it. There was a tinkle of breaking glass and a terrible, sharp smell that made Aniketos' teeth hurt. In that moment, Aniketos realised that it would have been a much smarter move to repel the bottle with his telekinesis, but it was too late: a waft of dizziness rose up into his head and he felt suddenly loose-limbed and slightly incoherent. The only saving grace was that the bottle broke farther away from him than it otherwise would have, and perhaps some of the fumes would even affect his enemy. Breathing as little as he could manage – he had enough sense for that at least – he caught the halbred before it hit his knees and knocked it away. This substance made him feel drunk, it made the world erupt in illumined detail, but had he not drunkenly sparred with his friends in the ruins of Solíbar all those years ago? A ripple of magic coursed through his body and shadows reached up from the brickwork, twining around the opponent's ankles with the aim of tripping him up. Aniketos took the opportunity to lunge forward, Eiletheia flashing violet through the air by the man's chest. Unfortunatey, this move forced him to draw in a breath of air. Even as dizziness inflated in his head like a balloon he backed away, melting the ice behind him and re-freezing the water in front of him. Perhaps if he could draw the man towards him he would get a whiff of those fumes. Aniketos drew magic through his veins until it tingled in his fingers, waiting to be used. |
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| Neriasis | Sep 9 2016, 10:13 AM Post #8 |
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The fumes wouldn’t last long in this weather, but it didn’t stop the drow from keeping his distance from where the glass has broken upon the ground. Poison was a tricky thing and only the most dedicated of assassins could wean themselves of the effects. Even still there were some poisons that were too deadly for such a delicate task of immunization, though the one in that vial was not among them. It was as the councilor was finding out, just like being drunk. Disorienting but not fatal, not on its own. There was a curiousness to being affect by magic similar to your own, and Neriasis was experiencing such as the shadows reached up from the bricks to grasp as his ankles. A bit like unruly children in a way, when one surrounded themselves with shadow beings on a day to day basis. But since this was magic and not the otherworldly creatures, he simply couldn’t will it away. However, he found them to be more nuisance than threatening, aside from having to pull harder back than he would have liked to avoid the blade that came flashing at him in angry purple. Even he was not perfectly suited to an icy battlefield and the sudden tug free of the binding shadows to avoid the attack had his feet starting to slide from beneath him. Using the butt end of his polearm he managed to keep upright, less graceful than one would like when they were trying to be intimidating and boastful. His habit for spouting insults among other things might well be the thing that ends him one day. The drow did not wish to pursue the other backwards through the mild remnants of the fumes or even over the icy ground. Time to get the other to come back towards him. Neriasis couldn’t help the curl of his lips in amusement; it’d been too long since he’d had a good fight where there might actually be danger involved. Focusing on a spot directly behind Aniketos the drow conjured a spike of ice that came shooting up from the ground with what could be destructive force if it connected with flesh and bone. However, he wasn’t aiming so much as to hit the other but to provide a barrier and incentive for the other to come forward once more. One last spell rippled off the drow as the muddled shadow he cast warped further in this darkened arena. Three arrow-headed strips for shadow peeled off the ground, something Aniketos might remember from their last encounter. The drow was fond of using them as a soft of balance, a way to push himself back up should the ice slide him in directions untold, however they were also quite deadly when used to strike at an enemy. For now Neriasis used them to better keep his footing as he went in with another slash from a distance. For someone who seemed to want to harm the councilor he didn’t appear to wish to get in close with the other. |
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| Aniketos | Feb 13 2017, 02:59 PM Post #9 |
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Aniketos felt the ice shifting under his feet and scurried forward just in time to avoid the spire of ice that jutted up behind him. Now he was closer than to the man and his polearm than he wanted to be, and stuck well in that intoxicating cloud of gas. Trying to breathe as little as possible, he directed his mind towards a spell – but was interrupted by the flock of black arrows that came whizzing toward him. One glanced right off the area of his ear, deflected by a ward, but another shot straight at his arm. Though he was protected by his ward, the impact was enough to hurt and knock him off balance. His leg slipped to the side and his knee collided with the ground in a flash of pain. Grimacing, trapped in this awkward position, he thrust his magic at the first thing that came to mind: a flurry of similar black arrows which, if they hit the stranger, would cause him to go blind. Thinking quickly, he added on another spell: a suppression spell. It took the shape of a ball, almost invisible but for the viscous distortion it caused when light was shone through it. Banking on all this to be a distraction to his opponent, Aniketos put a hand to the ice to try and leverage himself up. He looked up, catching a glimpse of the Councillors coming down the hill. They were hurrying, for they had seen what was happening, and Pomorus led the charge, picking his way down the hill with surprising nimbleness for one of such a large stature. But he had fatally distracted himself in looking up, and lost his balance yet again. With a shock of pain like a whip of fire, Aniketos' cheek struck the ice. He had landed on his side, on top of his right arm, which still resiliently gripped his sword. Cursing, Aniketos struggled to get up, keeping his eye on his enemy. The Councillors were shouting, were now navigating the ice towards them, but they still had about twenty feet to go. With one foot planted on the ground, Aniketos directed his energy into the ice to melt it. A shimmering blue spell came whizzing from the direction of the Councillors, aimed straight at Neriasis' back. Abilities |
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| Neriasis | Jun 16 2017, 06:31 AM Post #10 |
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Neriasis moved to press his advantage as the other went down to one knee. Caught off guard by the sudden return of arrows, one hitting him square in the left shoulder such that it practically incapacitated the limb. As darkness settled across his vision, he stepped back abandoning the polearm back to whatever realm he’d pulled it from he took hold of one of his daggers. It put him at a disadvantage when it came to weapon reach, but at least he could even the playing field when it came to sight. Unfortunately between the drow’s stubborn ego and his resistance to mind altering magic Aniketos’s suppression spell found no foothold in Neriasis’s mind as he took hold of the nearby shadows from the buildings and encased the area they where they were standing in unnatural darkness. It put his mind at relative ease, because at least now they would both be essentially blind, a handicap he could work with. However, ice was going to continue to be a factor in this fight. There were a number of spells the drow could have called upon to assist in fighting on such treacherous terrain. Favored among them was perhaps one of his more unsettling spells, if not for the look of them then for the grotesque popping sounds they made when they began to appear. One by one, eight long knife-sharp spider legs sprouted from the drow’s back. Instead of lifting his body from the ground as he normally did with the extra appendages four were set behind himself to steady his footing, the other four would be used in more defensive and offensive manners. Delicate ears flicked and his head turned towards the sound of the other striking the ice and in response two of the deadly spider legs struck towards the sound. It would be difficult to tell how accurate the strikes were, between the unfamiliar territory, the blindness, and the sound faintly echoing off nearby buildings. There was also the fact that he didn’t actually wish to kill Aniketos, harming the councilor on the other hand he was more than okay with. But with the approach of backup, which he couldn’t judge how much help they’d actually be to their comrade it was probably getting to be that time in which the drow needed to start thinking of retreating. Abilities Used
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| Aniketos | Oct 9 2017, 11:33 AM Post #11 |
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Aniketos had just gotten to his feet when the scene was plunged into darkness. Though this would have sent many people into a panic, Aniketos smirked. He was easily able to dip into his mind and then expand it over the whole area, like a stretchy dough. As such he was able to sense the form of his opponent, down to the folds in his clothes, the shape of his face and the equipment in his pants (not that he focused on this last one at all). The shape of the face struck no recognition in him, however, for it is quite a different thing to see a face than feel it. Simply as a means of distracting his opponent, Aniketos flung several arrows his way – ones which would throw him into a convulsion of agony if they were to so much as graze his skin. In this moment he applied heat to the ice between him and his enemy, dodged the assault of his enemy's new limbs and charged forward, swinging his sword. Meanwhile, the Councillors rushing to Aniketos' aid witnessed a bubble of darkness bloom from the cobbles, cloaking both Aniketos and the stranger in darkness. Pomorus cursed and slowed down while Vaal let the spell she had been holding in her hand fizzle out. "What're we supposed to do?" rage Pomorus, "We're as likely to kill him as help him!" Ramsley, however, scampered on, shooting a grin over his shoulder. "Don't worry! I know what I'm doing!" After all, when he was still a member of the Revenger's Blade instead of its leader, he had spent a fair bit of time creeping about in the dark, and had long ago equipped himself with the same ability that Aniketos had. As the other Councillor's watched, his skin, normally so ghastly pale, became suddenly dark and crackled like burnt bread. Within a second, he had made himself covered in something like stone: tougher than skin but still just as silent. Before entering the darkness he had already begun to survey the scene: Aniketos now in close combat with his enemy, doing his best to avoid the thrashing spider limbs that had made a sudden appearance on the stranger's back. Gross, he thought and, whipping out the dagger he always kept at his side, plunged into the darkness. Within a moment he was behind Neriasis, his blade raised and then plunging down towards the centre of his back. Abilities
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