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    Prisoner Transfer [Private]

    Quinton Haywood
    Quinton Haywood

    Player 
    Lineage : Necromancer's Passion
    Position : None
    Posts : 93
    Guild : N/A
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Mentor : N/A
    Experience : 150

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Warrior's Heart
    Second Skill:
    Third Skill:

    Prisoner Transfer [Private] Empty Prisoner Transfer [Private]

    Post by Quinton Haywood 27th July 2016, 10:13 pm

    It had been a long few weeks for Quinton since what had happened. Sacrificed to some cult, reborn by the very god they worshiped, and then actually tracking down and burying his old body… The saying of a father should never have to bury his son had nothing on that experience. But it needed to be done. He couldn’t just leave something with his face just laying on some dungeon floor, and his sword meant far too much to him to lose, but… finding his old body meant he had found the ones that had killed him in the first place.

    The rage that buried through his body still haunted him to that very moment. Every single body that stood in front of him… he had just killed them in cold blood. Everyone. Even now, the thought of their screaming unnerved him.

    But that’s his life now. Like it or not, he was enslaved and there isn’t a way out of it. And just to cement it in even more, Eris had ordered him to be under the control of a minion of hers. ‘A pawn of a pawn…’Was the first words that came to mind. A sane person would probably just find any way to end it, a life being forever bound with no hope wasn’t worth living, but even that wasn’t possible with the likes of Eris pulling the strings.

    And where was the puppet master leading him now? She had no place for him among her inner circle, and felt as if his abilities would be better utilized in the field by one of her associates outside of the guild.

    That is what has brought him where he is now. Slowly ascending up the mountain side towards one of the small villages on Mt.Hakobe. Eris had never spoken a single word to him for where he was meant to go, but something inside of him just knew. The darkening sky and whipping winds would probably have pushed a sane person to hold off on even tempting their fates, but even the cold snap of the wind against his face didn’t seem to phase him.

    Since the incident, he could feel down in his body that there was something different, a fire burning there that hadn’t been there before that spread through every extremity, warming him through the cold that surrounded him even now as he trudged on through the ankle deep snow.

    Quinton hadn’t even bothered trying to wear anything else as he matched on, stopping for nothing as he was trapped with nothing but his own thoughts. Outside of the events that had happened recently, Quinton felt like he was swimming through a fog. Some many details felt blurry, but others felt so fresh… all of them memories that only seemed to server in building up that fire burning in his gut. The death of his close friend after arriving to the country, his family being murdered, the cultist sacrificing him…

    The thoughts quickly dissipated as the village suddenly came into his view, the outer wall right upon him as he simply lost track of himself in his thoughts. Without knowing what this town had anything to do with Eris, he simply entered the village, drawing a few looks from the nearby, well dressed occupants that had noticed him.

    The sun had already started to set as he walked into the village inn, paying for a room for the night. Once again, it was purely a deep feeling he had that this is what he had to do. The room he walked into didn’t exactly seem comfortable, but it wasn’t like he’d be able to sleep. He simply laid backed onto the lumpy mattress, and waited, the sound of the coming snow storm.
    Sybil
    Sybil

    The Star Child


    The Star Child

    Developer/GFX Artist- Knight VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Coming Storms- Guild Master- Dark Guild Ace- Fan Art Contest Participant- Haiku Contest Participant- Rich- Veteran Level 2- Veteran Level 1- Magic Application Approved!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Master [1000]- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 1st Place Event/Contest Winner- 2nd Place Event/Contest Winner- X-Mas Event Participant- Weapon of Apocalypse Wielder- 1 Year Anniversary- Player 
    Lineage : Comet
    Position : None
    Posts : 1433
    Guild : Sabertooth
    Cosmic Coins : 39
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 24
    Experience : 5,657.5

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Star Child
    Second Skill: Arc of Time
    Third Skill:

    Prisoner Transfer [Private] Empty Re: Prisoner Transfer [Private]

    Post by Sybil 25th August 2016, 7:51 pm





    Die A Hero, Or Live Long Enough To See Yourself Become The Villain


    Clatter clatter clatter

    The chain linked fence chatted this echo once the man had been thrown against it and even continued to waver as he slumped to the snowy and wet ground.

    His calloused hand was clasped over his maw. Blood seeped between both his fingers and his chipped teeth. A long, malevolent, shadow cast its self upon his dilapidated form. At the end of the dark shape stood a youthful

    "What did I tell you when I allowed you and your people to settle here?" Her voice seemed more toned to be a command than an inquiry. Meanwhile, the farmer seemed to be struggling on a response.

    Famine shot a silent glance to either of the two guild cronies standing at her sides before she raised her hand out in front of her chest and uncurled her fingers from her upwards facing
    Palm. A  Blackness pulsed from the surface of her fingers and gradually drew it up into the shape of a shortsword. The shadow crafted blade dropped in her hand and she caught and flicked it in front of her by the handle.

    "Not only did you failed to keep up your end of the bargain you thought you could lie to me." Famine nodded her head and one of the Basilisk Fang grunts behind her  lugged a large sac off his shoulders and out spilled its contents. Everything from packaged slabs of livestock meat to the bottles of milk they harvested now sat in the snow in front of them. This particular farmer had been neglecting his taxes for months now...not ten minutes after she set the two Basilisk behind her here to investigate did they find this cache hidden under to floorboards of his cabin.

    “Every  time I came down this side of the mountain to collect you always seem to come short I might have let you off the hook again If I hadn’t found out you were hiding what you had from me.”

    “--We wouldn’t have anything left!!!” He argued though pleadingly.

    “Maybe if you spent more time tending your cattle rather than digging out that little trench to hide this you would.”

    Famine again peered at her companions though this time a sound akin to a hiss clicked off her tongue. A signal. And like a sprinter at the pop of the rack gun they both  flew forwards, blades and magics unsheathed. Cries wafted to the seer’s ears and crimson  tossed up into the air in a brilliant pool, spraying the alley wall, a particular wall which connected to this establishment’s Inn.  

    N/A
    @Quin
    430
    NOTES: Here it is


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Quinton Haywood
    Quinton Haywood

    Player 
    Lineage : Necromancer's Passion
    Position : None
    Posts : 93
    Guild : N/A
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Mentor : N/A
    Experience : 150

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Warrior's Heart
    Second Skill:
    Third Skill:

    Prisoner Transfer [Private] Empty Re: Prisoner Transfer [Private]

    Post by Quinton Haywood 9th October 2016, 6:09 pm

    The amount of time that passed since he had laid his head back escaped the young man's mind. Almost as if he was in a trance of some kind, not a single thought seemed to pass through his mind as the world simply continued on without him, like it should have. But, without warning, Quinton had sat straight up, head stretching to the side as an audial pop and crack could be heard. The walls of the Inn didn't do a very good job of keeping any noise out, the sounds of some kind of scuffle melting through the background of wind. After a few seconds of stretching out, Quinton was up on his feet, quickly strolling out of his room and the inn. But why would the young man care for such a pointless fight? Quinton hadn't an answer for himself when the question wormed into his mind, but his actions weren't entirely his own at this point. Another force had pushed him up and out the door.

    As the door opened, the cold blast of air whipped across Quinton's face, but didn't even seem to cause a slight flinch in the man as he walked out, slamming the door behind him. Without losing a single bit of momentum, Quinton was around the building's corner just in time to hear the cries of an old man before he was silenced, the faint sound of blood splattering against a wall. All that stood in the alley now was Quinton, and three dark figures standing further down the alley. Normally, someone should have been afraid of the same position Quinton stood in, standing between several murderers and the only way out of an alleyway, but his nerves had been fortified by the very force that had driven him here.

    "I take it you're the one I was suppose to find." The tone in his voice was flat, as if he took no pleasure in being there in the first place. "Now, we have a few thing to talk about." Quinton took a few steps forward as he spoke, not realizing how his words could be taken as having a different meaning to them, especially with the hilt of his sword sticking out prominently from the side of his hip.
    Sybil
    Sybil

    The Star Child


    The Star Child

    Developer/GFX Artist- Knight VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Coming Storms- Guild Master- Dark Guild Ace- Fan Art Contest Participant- Haiku Contest Participant- Rich- Veteran Level 2- Veteran Level 1- Magic Application Approved!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Master [1000]- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 1st Place Event/Contest Winner- 2nd Place Event/Contest Winner- X-Mas Event Participant- Weapon of Apocalypse Wielder- 1 Year Anniversary- Player 
    Lineage : Comet
    Position : None
    Posts : 1433
    Guild : Sabertooth
    Cosmic Coins : 39
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 24
    Experience : 5,657.5

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Star Child
    Second Skill: Arc of Time
    Third Skill:

    Prisoner Transfer [Private] Empty Re: Prisoner Transfer [Private]

    Post by Sybil 9th December 2017, 9:04 pm





    Die A Hero, Or Live Long Enough To See Yourself Become The Villain


    Aside from slow and almost reptile-calm throb of Famines heart, no muscle would move. That pounding inside beat a rhythm to the words of her execution, the cold steel the lying man’s judge and jury. The knives entered as if he was nothing, just meat, blood bones, blasting a cavity in his back as it burst crimson into the cold white powder at her feet. Their face, so hideous and was frozen in a state of fear, eyes open, mouth slack. Famine was about to call the order for her and her small party to head out, maybe string up the body over the Inn as an example before they went home. That usually stopped these kinds of problems from arising.

    Then, the crunching of snow in the distance came closer, and a new shadow reached down into the alley. An odd string of words struck her curiosity, her head tilted left and the braided rope that sat upon her chest shifted to heed to gravity. Tactically, an eyebrow raised simultaneously with the corner of her lip.


    “Blades,” she ordered dully, and in a moment her subordinates took their arms back up and lunged at the stranger, pointed steel drawl and placed to his throat and back in a second. A cold wind came down the alley, shifting her bangs and lifting some of the white powder off the ground. Never did the silvery swords ever pierce his.


    “Supposed to find?” Famine laughed, “Do you have an appointment to talk to me, I do have a busy schedule.” The mage rattled off tauntingly, another step forward to match the stride he’d taken towards her before she’d had her troops stop him in his tracks.


    N/A
    @Quin
    285
    NOTES: Here it is


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Quinton Haywood
    Quinton Haywood

    Player 
    Lineage : Necromancer's Passion
    Position : None
    Posts : 93
    Guild : N/A
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Mentor : N/A
    Experience : 150

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Warrior's Heart
    Second Skill:
    Third Skill:

    Prisoner Transfer [Private] Empty Re: Prisoner Transfer [Private]

    Post by Quinton Haywood 10th December 2017, 6:25 pm

    Quinton was stopped dead in his tracks as the servants by famine's side were at him in the blink of an eye. Yet even with two blades ready to slice him open and drain him of any blood, he stood stoically before them. A testament to his fortitude. Be it his own or from a sinister origin.

    His gaze turned towards the two assailants before raising back towards Famine after a few short stare down. He could only grit his teeth, thinking about how, unlike him, they had chosen this path. A path of violence and bloodshed all for the sake of their own gain.

    "You could call it an appointment of some kind." His seal denied him from outright saying his true intent. He could tell simply from proximity that neither of these grunts knew about Eris or her dealings.

    As uncomfortable as he was with the two peons threatening him with their blades, there was little he could do to persuade them to back down, as any rise from him would result in either them learning about his... unique properties, which would not be entertained by his master, or one of them killed. Another blight that would not be sustained. It had summed up almost everything leading up to this point. Damned either way.

    His hand gripped onto the hilt of his sword for a moment, feeling even the slightly attempt at unsheathing his blade being squashed by powers beyond him. Eventually, his hand let off of the grip, raising the both of them above his head to show he has surrendered. "Is this how you treat everyone summoned to your guild?" His wording was intentional. He didn't want to join, but it was what was commanded of him to do.

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