Chaos in enormous amounts is emmited by this place... I like the feeling...
One step after another one, slowly yet steadily, a man approached the big building settled between the snow and ice, a genuine smile on his face. Fiore, country of magic and guilds, with a vast magical population, although still not a rival for Bellum or Seven's wizard population. A country, home to both Legal Guilds, those that were on good graces with the Magic Council, the one who controlled almost all guilds, the one who made sure the Guilds followed the rules; and home to the Dark Guilds too, those that, for one reason or another, were against the Magic Council and its rules, or were simply not recognised by the Magic Council for diverse reasons, althought usually it was not the latter. It was nighttime already, so the visibility was bad, not only due to the fact that the night had already fallen, but also due to the insane amount of snow falling without ceasing. A quick, chilling wind accompanied the snow, making the conditions insanely bad, yet the man didn't care, as he kept walking towards the Guildhall of Basilisk Fang, a smile on his lips.
Standing before the Gates, Nathaniel Silvershield took out a picture from his pocket. It was a small picture of a petite, yet curvy woman with rebellious scarlet locks falling on her shoulders like a blood veil, her grass green eyes focused on the camera before her, a smile playing on her lips. Staring at the picture for a few seconds, until a lock of his coal black hair fell in front of his eyes, obstructing his view slightly, Nathaniel threw the picture in the air, a sort of black matter engulfing it in a matter of seconds. It seemed to desintegrate the picture, leaving nothing, but small pieces of it, still engulfed in the same matter, that the wind blew away without doubting. Ahh, Chaos is such a beautiful thing~! Nathaniel sighed, watching the picture fly away, a sign of malice in his eyes. Don't worry, dear Sister, soon, chaos will engulf you too, and you will withness the true power of a mage...
That said, Nathaniel brought his hands up, taking his coal black hair in a ponytail, his eerie, black eyes placed on the door before him, his scarlet irises not moving an inch while he made sure his ponytail was decent. Then, without doubting, Nathaniel took off his long coat, leaving his toned hands, filled with tattoos of all sorts. Rubbing the back of his neck, Nathaniel shivered slightly when his body made contact with the cold, and pushed the doors open, making his way towards the middle of the room, the door closing behind him quickly. I've managed it, Mistress Desdemonia. I reached a Dark Guild.
Looking around, he noticed some members staring at him, eyeing his multiple tattoos, weird hairstyle and eerie eyes suspiciously. At that, Nathaniel simply grinned, an arrogant grin occupying his lips, and placed his hands on his waist, his oversized shirt's collar falling to his elbows. Good evening people~ Would any of you be nice enough to get me your leader? Nathaniel asked, his typical cheerful voice resonating through the silent room, catching everyone's attention. It was too silent for his liking, that he could determine. Hopefully there would be a chatterbox like him near, or something, because if not, he would have to reconsider his decision to join Basilisk Fang.
One step after another one, slowly yet steadily, a man approached the big building settled between the snow and ice, a genuine smile on his face. Fiore, country of magic and guilds, with a vast magical population, although still not a rival for Bellum or Seven's wizard population. A country, home to both Legal Guilds, those that were on good graces with the Magic Council, the one who controlled almost all guilds, the one who made sure the Guilds followed the rules; and home to the Dark Guilds too, those that, for one reason or another, were against the Magic Council and its rules, or were simply not recognised by the Magic Council for diverse reasons, althought usually it was not the latter. It was nighttime already, so the visibility was bad, not only due to the fact that the night had already fallen, but also due to the insane amount of snow falling without ceasing. A quick, chilling wind accompanied the snow, making the conditions insanely bad, yet the man didn't care, as he kept walking towards the Guildhall of Basilisk Fang, a smile on his lips.
Standing before the Gates, Nathaniel Silvershield took out a picture from his pocket. It was a small picture of a petite, yet curvy woman with rebellious scarlet locks falling on her shoulders like a blood veil, her grass green eyes focused on the camera before her, a smile playing on her lips. Staring at the picture for a few seconds, until a lock of his coal black hair fell in front of his eyes, obstructing his view slightly, Nathaniel threw the picture in the air, a sort of black matter engulfing it in a matter of seconds. It seemed to desintegrate the picture, leaving nothing, but small pieces of it, still engulfed in the same matter, that the wind blew away without doubting. Ahh, Chaos is such a beautiful thing~! Nathaniel sighed, watching the picture fly away, a sign of malice in his eyes. Don't worry, dear Sister, soon, chaos will engulf you too, and you will withness the true power of a mage...
That said, Nathaniel brought his hands up, taking his coal black hair in a ponytail, his eerie, black eyes placed on the door before him, his scarlet irises not moving an inch while he made sure his ponytail was decent. Then, without doubting, Nathaniel took off his long coat, leaving his toned hands, filled with tattoos of all sorts. Rubbing the back of his neck, Nathaniel shivered slightly when his body made contact with the cold, and pushed the doors open, making his way towards the middle of the room, the door closing behind him quickly. I've managed it, Mistress Desdemonia. I reached a Dark Guild.
Looking around, he noticed some members staring at him, eyeing his multiple tattoos, weird hairstyle and eerie eyes suspiciously. At that, Nathaniel simply grinned, an arrogant grin occupying his lips, and placed his hands on his waist, his oversized shirt's collar falling to his elbows. Good evening people~ Would any of you be nice enough to get me your leader? Nathaniel asked, his typical cheerful voice resonating through the silent room, catching everyone's attention. It was too silent for his liking, that he could determine. Hopefully there would be a chatterbox like him near, or something, because if not, he would have to reconsider his decision to join Basilisk Fang.
![Senior [500]](https://i.imgur.com/Nmfn8cD.png)
![Novice [250]](https://i.imgur.com/lrYlde6.png)
