The Paths of Tragedy

OOC: Ok i will edit that;)

Mikhail

Unlike Mikhail, Skaol was a man of honour but he had not endured the life that Mikhail had, yet they still worked for the same man, but they're ways were completely different. Although harsh to hear it was true what Skaol said, Mikhail lost all compassion and pity in his heart a long time ago, he did not regret killing anyone who was in his path...

"You're old friend Wylliam hmph...i have met with him a while ago, quite the careless one. Yet he seems to be a great warrior just like you said. I imagine that even for you, he won't be an easy opponent, but then again you probably know his strenghts and weaknesses better then anyone. I am however more concerned about this dark warrior that you speak off, i have only heard his name so far, but he seems to be more then a simple lunatic...but for now our main concern is that pathetic Cairn and his little party, i trust of course that you have the skill to deal with all of them but..."

He laid himself against a wall...

"The question is...do you have it in your heart to finish him? For i can only imagine what would happen to you if you let him and the others escape, the emperor would not be pleased for certain. Do not worry, i will not murder you're friend, however should you fail...i might have to finish the job myself."

He smiled, the thought of watching his half brother and the others blood fill the soil as he tortured them, made the sadistic Mikhail happy.

"For now i must return to watch over them, the enemy is sneaky and as more powerful weapons then we can imagine, those airships come to mind...i will meet you again Skaol, hopefully with the head of Cairn and the others laying before you."

Mikhail gave another smile to Skaol, and moved to the window jumping to the balcony and from there to the ground, he placed his helmet on and walked away, wondering if Skaol's judgement would not influence the mission.
 
OOC: The name of the Inn in which Cairn is staying is called "Northern Star". Sorry for not including said detail.

IOC:

At the Northern Star Inn, Cairn rested after having one on one duel against Zeria several hours ago. He was also tired due to the long voyage, and was in need of some time to arrange his thoughts and prepare himself for the coming tournament. First of all, he decided to go to the "Rune Shop" to acquire several magical stones in order to give elemental properties to his sword. A Rune Shop is a place were travelers can obtain many items with magical properties such as rare weapons, armors, orbs, staffs, rings and other pieces of jewelry. Having set his plans for the next morning, Cairn shifted his interests to another topic, the current situation Helena Fortress.

Seeing that, in order to restore the peace to the Kingdom of Seseu, the first course of action should be recapturing the Helena Fortress in order to take down one of the Empire's main base and cut down their offensive temporarily. The problem was how to do it, since Cairn no longer had control over the Royal Armies, so another mean was necessary. At first, Cairn thought of taking down the Fortress by the inside, through accessing a secret escape route that lead inside the fortress. Not sure if the secret passage was found, Cairn thought of another possibility: to disguise as Imperial Officers and try to take a small group to attack them while they are off guard.

Either way, it would take much careful planning to be successful in retrieving the control over Helena Fortress.
 
Skaol sighed, walked to his window, closed it, and made doubly sure to lock it. He wanted very badly to sleep, but his mind refused to give him peace. His orders were clear: use the tournament as a cover to eliminate members of the Rosencrant party. As long as the deaths occured during the tournament, no one would expect Aldaba's hand in the matter. However, this assumed that no one would recognize him as an Aldabran soldier. Skaol had no idea how much Wylliam knew about him, but he had the feeling that there would be no chance of hiding his identity the moment Wylliam has seen him. Which led to the crux of the matter; could Skaol kill him? Yes, but would he? Wylliam was indeed skilled, but Skaol had never lost to him in the spars they had as students. Assuming an equal rate of progression, Skaol could most definitely beat him. But kill him?

"Bah," Wylliam said as he lay on the ground, sweat drenching his hair and streaming down his face, "you got lucky... er, again." He raised up his head and smiled at Skaol. "Nothing's inconquerable. That wierd style of yours must have a weakness, and by God I'm gonna find it!" Skaol laughed a pleasant, lazy chuckle, sheathed his rapier, and helped his friend to his feet. "Well, don't expect me to tell you what it is," he said as he acted as Wylliam's crutch and helped him from the mat to where the adjudicator's were seated. The three old men consulted one another's notes, whispering to one another in tones that made it impossible for either Wylliam or Skaol to guess at what they were saying. Finally, the one in the middle faced the two students, opened his mouth to speak, and-

Skaol cracked his eyes. It appeared he had finally fallen asleep where he had been lying, tossing questions to himself, without a hope of satisfactory answers. He raised himself slowly from the bed, wiping the drool from his cheek and bringing himself to a sitting position on the bed's edge. Looking out the window, he saw that it was still dark. Sighing, he turned his drool stained pillow wet-side down and went back to sleep.
 
Zeria sighed and painfully rose back up to her feet, making the attempt to ignore her wound.

"I'm going to go find the place where the tournament is being held. I'll rest there and tend to my wound fully..."

She winced yet again, and began slowly walking off. Blood had already soaked through the bandages she'd put on, from all of the strain on her body, and was dripping down her side by now. But yet, she seemed determined to make it to the tournament hall...
 
Hera had felt Jake's power fly further away. He wasn't worried; Jake would be able to handle almost anything that came his way. What he was worried about was why the procession had stopped.

Hera had landed among the people heading towards Celeste . He hadn't been traveling for twenty seconds before they stopped. Annoyed, Hera flew to the forefront of the group, where a man and a woman, seeming to have headed the procession, were bickering.

Apparently, the woman had come with a message saying that they were not to go to the tournament grounds yet. She was waving birch-bark parchment in front of the man.

Hera, naturally curious, went up to the pair and began to converse. They gave him the letter, which read:

Tournament procession,

By personal request, as supported by many participants, I would ask that you wait for me and my companion, Brome. We shall be in the town within a day, so this does not seem to interfere with the tournament schedule: the tournament is set for three days from now. I shall meet you at the Northern Star Inn.

Thank you, and may the seasons bless you.

Sincerely yours,
Felldoh

Hera cocked an eyebrow and returned the parchment to the messenger. Speaking directly to the head of the procession, Hera said, "I believe we should wait. This 'Felldoh' is right, it won't set us back."

The messenger seemed to struggle with himself until he saw Hera's tail blade. Though Hera did not hold it threateningly, the man was no less afraid of it. Clearing his throat, he said, "Very well. We will lodge at the Northern Star inn; it's big enough to hold a mansion of Kings." Without further ado, he began to herd the complaining mob of warriors back to town, often saying "Everybody deserves a sporting chance, and you'd ask the same."

Hera smiled. This 'Felldoh' seemed to have an air of command about him. His letter had certainly been kind, yet held an authoritative tone about it. He must have a simple lifestyle, Hera thought, remembering the crude birch-bark parchment. And so, Hera flew back to town, awaiting Jake and the coming Felldoh.

((I'll make a note here. Felldoh is not actually a playable character of mine until Julius says yes to his being so. Therefore, since I've gotten the ok to bring him into the story-line, I have done so. THAT BEING SAID, I would ask that people refrain from treating him as an NPC until I get to ok/not-ok from Julius.))
​
 
'So, this is Baid. What they said about this city is true. I could get used to this place.' Arthvader thought as he got off the airship and began walking around Baid. Looking for a place to practice his skills for the upcoming tournament, Arthvader headed towards a large field just outside the field. There, He called out Gilgamesh from his pendant, in hopes of having a sparring match.

"Hey, it's been a while now, eh, Arthvader?" "Yeah, it has, Gilgamesh my old friend. Say, do you want to have a little sparring match? I won't hold back you know." "Sure. Let's get this over with." "Okay. En guard." Right away then, both Arthvader and Gilgamesh drew out their weapons, both ready for battle. The battle lasted for hours...

Hours later...

"huh, huh, I think we're done for the day. Thanks for the match, Gilgamesh." "Heh, Don't mention it, kid. Just remember, If you need any help, just call me, okay. Now, I ought to go for now. See you later." And with that, Gilgamesh returned to the pendant. Afterwards, Arthvader headed back into town. and decided to go to the Northern Star Inn and took a seat at the bar. There, the bartender waited for his order. "Welcome, welcome. what is it that you would like?" "I guess I'll have the special of the day." Okay, One special coming right up. that'll be 500 Gil." Arthvader
payed the bartender the money from his bag. The bartender then headed back to the kitchen to prepare the special. 'I should probably rest after I'm done with this meal. I need to be ready for the tournament in the next couple of days.'
 
(I guess we should get over with the Tournament. My next post will be the Day of the Tournament)

As hours passed, Cairn thought about the many contestants that would enter the tournament and wondered how strong the competition will be. He wondered if he has what it takes to face whatever fate had in store for him. Fate, known to be unpredictable and inexplicable, many feared the many unexpected outcomes that it presents. Cairn thought much about what was what lied at the end of his path and sometimes he doubt about being able to make it to the end. Nevertheless, he also remained confident that his loyalty towards the concepts of justice and honor would not allow him to stumble across this perilous path. The hours would pass as Cairn remained meditating and focusing on constantly remembering his own weaknesses and strengths, he wanted to make sure he was fully prepared to be able to face any challenge.

During the hours he remained relaxing and reading, Cairn's mind suddenly shifted to think about the man claiming to be one of the Silverwing Twins. He wondered if he would be in the tournament, and if so, how strong would he be. Much darkness had enshrouded the story of the Silverwing Bloodline, making Cairn believe that maybe it was that same family the one who gave the origin to that seemingly undying evil. The days would pass, Cairn had already signed up the day in the tournament the day before, so it would be only a matter of time for the battle to begin.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

(I'll take Julius now)

As hours passed, the now demented Julius seemed to be closer and closer to catch up with Hejaloki on this relentless pursuit. A new malicious feeling fueling his darkening thirst for destruction, a rage that increased by the second. Now the fledging angel of darkness and death, Julius had one goal on his mind; to succeed in proving that the purpose of life, and perhaps the purpose of the world itself, is to end. His eyes widened in sinister insanity, darkened by the rushing amount of evil that was released upon his now tainted soul -simply ironic how he became the source of darkness when he was once a Saint of Salvation- which craved to take revenge for being betrayed by his former friends, the ones that turned the Kingdom of Aldabra into a remorseless empire. As the battle continue, Julius kept pursuing Hejaloki, claiming to be the answer to Hejaloki's suffering, for he would give him the much desired end, death. His hands enveloped in dark flames, Julius constantly burst in laughter each time he sent dark flaming balls hurling towards Hejaloki, even though he would miss on purpose to taunt him.
 
Zeria was waiting in there. Someone had even very kindly healed her, which she was grateful for. She'd signed up as well, and was just waiting in the area, relaxing, training, clearing her head, and perfecting her skills. She'd been so tempted to ask Cairn to show her how to create a good defense, but she didn't want to seem weak, and didn't want to bother him either. She sighed and looked up at the sky.

"It's almost time. I wonder who I will have to face. Maybe I'll get to go against Cairn and the others at some point. That could prove to be interesting. Maybe I'll even learn new skills as a fighter"

She sighed again and got to her feet, stretching a bit. This was going to be a rough battle line ahead of her. She'd stocked up on healing remedies and conserved much of her energy for the fights ahead.

"This won't be easy. I know that for sure..."
 
Hejaloki was getting closer to Vistoria.

The darkness in Julius got stronger and he would be lost to it.

Hejaloki ignored Julius taunting.

Hejaloki looked back from under his cowl at Julius and seeing the darkness spread in him. Hejaloki has once felt the darkness like that. Hejaloki knew what it will take to save Julius and possibly his old friend...
 
OOC: Just to let you know, my character will be at the entrance of the coliseum.

IC:
As the day of the tournament arrived, Arthvader stood by the gates, waiting for everyone to arrive. He already signed up for the tournament the night before. As the tournament nears closer, thoughts of his first fight begins coming into his mind. 'Who's going to be my first opponent? This competition is going to be one of the toughest ones I've ever seen. I've even heard Lucius is even going to arrive. I know for a fact that no matter the outcome, I'll persevere to the very end.'
 
((o_O finally! We can get this thing underway!))

Hera Ledro leaned against the banister of the tavern porch, holding some virgin chestnut brown beer. He'd never thought to see the stuff again, but here it was, on a foreign planet. He sipped it slowly, savouring the taste.

Jake walked out of the tavern, holding a cup of coffee. What type of coffee bubbled so smoothly and shimmered the way it did, neither Jake nor Hera knew, but it was a surprisingly sweet mixture. Jake cocked his eyebrow and sipped the coffee again, smiling at how sweet it was (rather contrary to the coffee he was used to drinking).

Jake had left Samael, secretly watching over Zeria. When he'd ascertained that she was safe, he sought Hera. He quickly flew to the inn where he could feel Hera's energy signature, and met up with his grandfather.

The two had remained there, at the tavern of the Northern Star Inn, waiting for this 'Felldoh' character. Hera had filled Jake in on what happened at the procession, and that this 'Felldoh' was a fighter in the tournament.

"I wonder what Felldoh's like," Jake mused, swishing his coffee. He chuckled. "Sounds a bit like a tree-lover if you ask me."

Hera smiled. "Well, if there's one thing I've learned, it's to not underestimate people because of their names. His letter was polite, yet had a commanding air about it. Felldoh doesn't seem to be one whom I would wish to trifle with."

"Yeah, don't underestimate people because of their names," Jake concurred.

"Excuse me, is this the Northern Star Inn?"

Hera turned to the left of the building. Standing there was a large, burly squirrel, and the speaker, a light-brown mouse. Hera did a double-take; the squirrel was about the same size as Jake, and the mouse was little more than a head shorter.

The mouse chuckled, his gray and blue shirt rustling with the laughter. "Oh, don't worry, sirs. Allow us to introduce ourselves: I'm Brome, the only son of Urran Voh."

The squirrel spoke up, his voice smooth and medium-pitched, contrary to the higher, child-like voice of the mouse. "My name's Felldoh. Brome and I live about forty miles east of here."

"Ah!" Hera said, putting down his drink. "So you are the one that asked the procession to wait, hmm?" Felldoh nodded sheepishly. "Don't worry, I had them wait for you. I spoke to the head of the procession just an hour ago, and he told me that we would wait until the day before the tournament." Hera eyed Felldoh's back. Hanging there was a large cache of specially-crafted javelins, each very fierce looking. He was a little surprised to find that Brome had no weapons.

Jake voiced Hera's thoughts, unaware that Hera was thinking along the same lines as him. "Why don't you have any weapons, Brome? Aren't you fighting in the tournament."

Brome chuckled and shook his head. "Me? No, I'm a healer." He patted a pouch hanging from his right shoulder, draped across so that it hung on his left side, just below the hip. "Felldoh's the warrior, here."

"Yes, I've been training for a few years now. I heard about the tournament, and thought I'd try my paw at the competition." The squirrel eyed them curiously. "Who are you two? I can see that the young 'un is a human, there are enough of them around these parts, but...what exactly are you?" Felldoh narrowed his eyes, perplexed as to what could possibly look as odd as Hera did.

Hera bowed his head. "My name is Hera Ledro. I hail from the late Allsieda. This is my grandson, Jake. We, too, are warriors, though we haven't trained seriously for a few months now."

Felldoh nodded his head before delving deeper into his curiousity. "Allsieda, where is that?"

"It's the planet where my race comes from. I am an Allsie, one of the few left. Jake here is only part Allsie, which is why he looks more human than anything."

Felldoh cocked his eyebrow and held out his paw. "Well, greetings Hera. Glad to meet you." Hera shook the squirrel's paw, and then Brome's. Felldoh was not used to meeting people, especially people like these. He was a hermit for a reason. Brome may have been a social butterfly, but Felldoh refused to stop his training.

((To be continued, folks))
 
The morning sunlight played through the window, catching Skaol right in the eyes. He groaned, rolled over a few times, then finally relinquished his death grip on unconsciousness. He took his time, rolling ever so slowly toward the bed's edge. Upon reaching the edge, he simply rolled onto the floor with a mild 'WHUMP'. Groggily, he sat up, his sheet haging over the right half of his face and continuing down around his body so it formed almost a toga. Skaol yawned, replaced the sheet, made his bed (he liked to be kind to the cleaning staff), and put on his armor, not bothering to hide the emblem of Aldabra on his cape or the emblem of his order on his outer tunic. There would be no point, once Wylliam recognized him. Nevertheless, he had still registered as 'Preston.' He simply didn't want Wylliam to realize he was near until the last possible moment. Skaol took a deep breath, resumed his congenial smile, and stepped from the tavern. The moment he stepped outside, however, he heard a large commotion far to his left. He had expected reaction to his Aldabran armor, but certainly not so soon. He discovered the true source of the commotion, however, was someone running maniacally through the streets and leaping over the citizens that didn't move from his path fast enough. It didn't take long for Skaol to recognize him as Wylliam, and took even less time for him to find himself leaning against the inside of the tavern door, panting and facing the inn's patrons. Had Wylliam seen him? He peeked through a window and saw Wylliam continuing through the street at great speeds. Skaol sighed, smiled apologetically to the customers, and returned to his room. He would wait just a hair longer to head to the Colisseum.

---------------------------------------------------

"Crap, crap, crap, crap, CRAP!" Wylliam was rushing frantically around his room, throwing on his armor and grabbing his spear. He had completely forgotten to register for the tournament the day before. When he was ready, he threw open the window, not wanting to take time with the stairs, and leapt. In the air, he spotted Jake and Hera speaking to a pair of travelers on the tavern porch. Wylliam's eyes remained glued to the one with javelins on his back. Is that... a giant... squirrel? He was so distracted that he botched his landing and found himself, once again, face down in the dirt. "Crap, I don't have time for this!" Wylliam exclaimed, hurrying to his feet and running full out through the town, leaping over townsfolk too slow to get out of the way.

Wylliam fell to his knees and thanked the heavens for loving him so much. Registration had not yet closed. Wylliam got up, signed up, looked up, then threw up. One should never do such an endurance run on a full stomache. He wiped his mouth with his cape, spotted Arthvader, and sat on the ground near him to await the arrival of the others.
 
Awakened by the first rays of the morning sun, Cairn slowly opened his eyes as he rose from his bed, remaining sitting on it for a few seconds as he placed his right hand on his forehead. He then moved his legs to the edge of the bed, and placed his feet on the floor. The day of the Tournament had arrived. Cairn meditated for an instant, thinking about the large amount of contestants that would enter the tournament. A few days ago, he had heard that the tournament would be divided into three different divisions: novice, intermediate, and advanced. Cairn had signed up in the Advanced Division, seeing that he would face skilled fighters there, even some he had fought years ago when he participated on previous tournaments. Last year's champion (the winner of the Advanced Division) had decided to remain unknown, but it was evident he or she had to be amazingly skilled to be the actual champion. The last year's champion was decided after the unknown victor clearly defeated the Novice and Intermediate Champions.

As time passed, Cairn finally stood up from bed, and decided to go downstairs. He was not wearing his armor this time, instead he had went below wearing a white shirt, leather pants and his iron boots. Cairn left the building and left towards a nearby river, in which he took a bath and relaxed to clear his mind from any troublesome thoughts and worry. Having finished an hour later, Cairn returned to the Inn. Upon his arrival, Cairn did not notice that Hera Ledro had arrived as well, but he would eventually find him. As he entered his room once again, Cairn changed clothes and clad himself in his armor, equipping all his gear and preparing for the tournament. Having packed all his items, Cairn locked the room and went downstairs. Once in the first floor, he was greeted by Van, the owner's son, and told that two "strange" warriors were staying in the Inn as well. Cairn wondered if they could be Jake and Hera Ledro, so he decided to stay for a while to see if he could meet them again.
 
OOC: Entas is MAINLY only here to be Felldoh's opponent, as Hera requested it via MSN. If this changes, I might remove him, or keep him as a NPC.
I got him approved by Julius, so there should be no problems.
-----------------

Entas awoke, he could feel the warmth, rather local around his torso.
He stretched his right arm towards the night stand that where there. He fumbled around for a second until he grabbed hold on his visor. Entas brushed away his hair, before he put it on.
The normally black view, was filled by various diagnostic lines. Each stating the status of each part.

After a few seconds, vision kicked in.
It was quickly confirmed that the sun was up, and the clock confirmed that it was morning.

Entas got out of the bed, and after a quick stretch, he started to put his clothes on.

He let out a sigh, "I hope this tournament wont be as hard as last time" he muttered to himself.
He was a wanderer, thus he often entered various tournaments, as he had done now.
He could not remember which level he signed up in, or rather, told the clerk to do it for him.
"I have to stop doing that" he stated to himself, as he completed dressing himself.

All other aside, he really liked the fact that most of the inhabitants of this city, did not take his visor to be weird. In fact, they seemed to think of it as normal.
He wanted to take use of this, and acctually walk around with his hood down.

He smiled to himself, as he exited the room, and headed for outside.
 
Zeria went into the hall, glancing around and trying to read as much as she could about the people waiting. She seemed tense...and didn't see any other female fighters.

"Guess I should have expected it"

Zeria sighed, taking a deep breath and looking around for Cairn or one of the others.

"Where could they be? I know they signed up..."
 
Wylliam looked up and spotted Zeria wandering around, looking, presumably, for someone she knew. He stood to his feet and waved his arms above his head in attempt to draw her attention. "Hey! Zeria! Arth and I are over here!" Some of the other combatants cast grumpy looks toward Wylliam for the interruption of their thoughts, but he, as usual, was completely oblivious. "C'mon, wait with us!"
 
Zeria heard her voice and turned, relief filling her as she spotted Wylliam. She strode over to him, smiling.

"Hey Wylliam! Glad to see you're doing alright"

She sighed and looked around.

"I'm glad I found you. I was beginning to think I'd be without anyone I knew until the tournament started. I wonder if any of us will get to face each other?"
 
((CONTINUATION!!!))

"So," Jake said, leaning against the banister, "Where are you guys from?" It was evident that he'd hit a soft spot, as the instant the words flew from Jake's lips, Felldoh tensed up like a taught wire.

Brome, seeing his friend's reaction, quickly interjected. "Um, we're from the northern forests." Patting the squirrel on the shoulder, Brome looked at Jake with an apologizing expression. "Please, excuse Felldoh. You see, we haven't seen our friends for many seasons, so we really miss them."

Hera sent Felldoh a sympathetic look. "I know how you feel friend. My home was destroyed, and it has been many a long millenia since I have seen them. The only Allsies left are myself and my brothers."

Felldoh looked away, prompting Jake into speech. "What's say we go inside, guys? It's getting a little cold out here."

Brome took a moment to catch on. His face lit up brightly as he understood what Jake was doing. "Yes, let's go inside."

"You two seem like you would enjoy a flask of brown chestnut beer," Hera said, putting on a comforting smile. "All drinks and food are apparently free to tournament participants, so let's go inside and have ourselves some fun. And no, Jake, you can't have any beer. Stick with the sweet coffee, it'll do you better than alcohol anyways."

"Aw man!"
 
Wylliam gave Zeria a knowing smile. "Now, now. you needn't worry," he said, fully (and most certainly incorrectly) believing that Zeria was voicing her fear of the prospect of facing him, "If the two of us were paired, I would of course hold back. I would never embarass a friend by humiliating them in combat." The possibility did not even grace his mind that he could lose to anyone in this tournament.

((OOC: Please have mercy on Wylliam, Zeria! I know he's an idiot, but he really means well!))
 
{OOC: I know XD though she's still gonna smack him :P}

Zeria's expression immediately shifted to one that Wylliam probably would regret his words for. A deep growl erupted in her throat.

"Hold back on me?"

SMACK! Her hand came crashing across his face.

"Don't you even think about trying to hold back on me! And stop acting so full of yourself! It's pathetic! You'd better hope that we don't face each other, or I'll make you eat dirt and beg for mercy!"

She'd turned away from him, making an attempt to calm herself...
 
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