Atharen, A Fantasy Roleplay Forum

Posted: **Thu Nov 25, 2021 3:46 am**

87th of Ash, 4621

Through the swirling sea of sand, the riders dragged Caladrin and Arkash. They were bound, thrown over the backs of chariots, and stolen away as mortal cargo. Earlier that day, Arkash had given himself up to get out of the sun, but Caladrin fought tooth and nail... Only to be gagged.
By sunset, they arrived at some sort of compound in the sand. A series of worn buildings and tents in the sand marked the territory of the gang that had taken them. In place of Heraldry, they offered pikes with mounted heads, peppered about the area with no specific pattern or organization. Curiously, all of them were missing their eyes. Streaks of red reached for their cheeks from the void of those empty sockets.
Little mind was paid to them as they drove into the clearing in the middle of the tents. More Gentaverse conversations ensued between the lead biker and some blindfolded strongman in the middle of the compound. Tensions escalated between them, and the blindfolded one began to yell while pointing to Caladrin. The biker leader scoffed in response but seemed to reluctantly agree with whatever the man had said. Some orders were barked to the other bikers, and Caladrin was dragged by the scruff through the sand, in a similar fashion to Arkash. Both were crudely dropped in the cover of a tent, out of the setting sun and in the cool sand.
Arkash remained unconscious as he was propped up against the noble's back. His head hung back, draped over the man's shoulder as if to deliberately open his neck. "Spring-gy hair... dead?" Asked the female, who undid her veil. "No... breathe still..." She spoke with a cross of her arms, then looked to the male in her company. "Kill? Darzuul only care of Entente."
The male shrugged, then stepped forward to grab Arkash's scruff. It was then that Caladrin began to put up a fuss, drawing the female's attention. The male paused as the woman raised her hand to signal so. She stepped toward the bound male, took a knee on the sand floor, then pulled the gag from his mouth. There, he was given the chance to speak his argument. Whatever he said, she rolled her eyes and shook her head before stuffing the rag back in the noble's mouth.
"Leave spring-gy hair," she declared with an annoyed disposition. She hummed for a moment while she looked at the two then looked to the male in her company once more. "Wake him," she ordered, then left the tent and the male to his devices.

Impact. it was heavy, deafening, and unmistakable in his unconsciousness. if it weren't for his senselessness, he'd no doubt feel it for days.
A second impact struck his cheek, and Arkash began to rouse from his dehydrated power nap. Everything hurt, from his achy head to his throbbing jawbone. A drool-less palette was revealed as Arkash parted his dry, cracked lips, and breathed the shaded air of the tent. His nose was broken, he couldn't breathe through it. What happened?
When the sound of running water met his ears, and his burlap rags began to soak through around his chest and lap, Arkash's eyes shot open in desperate hope for water, only to find that he was being pissed on. He was immediately grateful that he couldn't breathe through his nose, as the amber-brown urine no doubt stank something wretched. Caladrin was not so lucky. Arkash hissed and pulled away from the stream by throwing his whole body to the side. The brute finished up and re-zipped his pants before stepping over to drive his fist into the bound slave's face for the third time, knocking him into the sand harshly.
In the haze of pain and rage, Arkash stared up at the man that had attacked him. He commit those features to memory and resolved to kill him. "Kada foolch ddy, pekan," He spat in Vithmi, baring his teeth.
The man laughed as he grabbed Arkash by the shoulder and propped him up against the Entente once more. Arkash flinched and clenched his jaw tight as he braced for another strike. His heart was racing, his lungs pulling breath quickly... But no such impact came. The man warned something aggressively, pointing a finger just an inch from the 'guised rathor's bruising face, then stood up straight, punched his own palm to emphasize his threat, then stepped out of the tent.
Arkash took a moment to gather his breath in utter disgust and burning rage. His bones ached for blood, his teeth longed for the rip of flesh in his jaws. He was ready to unleash into his true form and raise hell... When he realized there was another heartbeat in the room. He couldn't catch their scent because of his broken nose, but he did furrow his brow and look over his shoulder. "Who's 'iss 'en?" he spoke in his lowborn Rien accent.
"Caladrin?" he asked as he maneuvered his body to get a better look at the man, but he could feel his eye beginning to swell shut. That wasn't good, it meant something was broken.
His eye lingered on the man before he squirmed his body to push himself through the sand, then reached around to snag the rag with his teeth, and pulled it from the noble's mouth. His core muscles shook his upper body as they engaged for the movement, fully supporting himself with just his abs strength. Once he'd pulled it out, he tossed the rag aside, then dragged himself back into position behind the Veir before he took a moment to rest against the other man. "Soz if I stink, milord," he spoke with very little enthusiasm and breathed in exhaustion through his dry mouth. "Dun' suppose 'ese pricks gave 'ew any watah did 'ey?"

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Posted: **Thu Nov 25, 2021 3:26 pm**

☾87th Ash, 4621☽

The moment that Caladrin was brought to the badlanders, he protested through the gag "MMPHGGH! MMMGH!" He screamed out to the accompaniment of the bandits. They arrived at sunset to the compound that the bandits were staying; the worn out buildings had seen better days, but still provided them shelter from the sunderstorms that occur in the badlands. Many people die from the mageblight that is inhibited from them; it is the remains of what Caladrin's history had brought them. The Sil'Norai weren't as innocent as people think they are, with their ravishing looks, complexions and also their main prized item. Their life bond. It was certain that the bandits had hit a jackpot, but he wasn't going far.

The conversations were muffled, but it appeared that the bandits had displayed some kind of annoyance. Was it because they captured an young Entente man? Or was it the fact that gangs often had a habit of doublecrossing each other? Who knows. The protesting continued as he narrowed his eyes over at Arkash and noticed how dehydrated and burnt out he was; Caladrin had been in the exact same situation, dehydrated as well as hungry. He wondered how the slaves live and put up with such resilience in life, knowing that they may get their last meal. It was his own fault, he wasted his energy arguing instead of conserving it for more important matters such as planning an escape. The big question was... How? They were dropped off at the tent, thrown as if they were nothing but piles of dead bodies. There might as well been that hope. Especially in the badlands.

Caladrin looked at Arkash for a moment; worried that he might have died. His potential ticket out of here was lying on the job unconscious, propped up beside him. His hands appeared to be tied behind his back as Caladrin's was. He struggled, realising that the bindings were rope. This could be a potentially easy escape for Caladrin but he needed to be patient. This is gonna be interesting, I didn't ask for this and yet I found myself in trouble with a slave boy and badlanders. How could this day possibly get worse, Ugh... He thought. He shook Arkash as he awoke. The gag was slowly removed from his mouth, before he had witnessed Arkash getting grabbed by the scruff his his neck. From that moment, he thought growling out in disapproval, wondering if he should let the slave boy die, or allow him to live. The thoughts battled with him constantly, until out of impulse, he broke his silence. "Wait, kill him? No, I don't think so..." He protested as the gag was put straight back into his mouth.

He gasped into the gag as he watched Arkash for a moment, being thrown about like a ragdoll. The way he bravely took the beatings as if he was use to them. Caladrin knew from that point that he was hardened. Hardened by hardship and trauma. He could tell by the way he winced at every punch and kick the bandits inflicted upon him. He was hardened. An advantage that Caladrin could use. However, there was one thing on Caladrin's mind. Escape. Escape from the bandits, escape from the mere brutality that he was facing and the pain of watching it unfold. One false move could jeopardise their lives from now on. He kept quiet for a moment until he gasped in shock, yet again. He watched the brutal way the badlanders dealt with their people, as well as the disgusting way that the other man used him like a toilet seat. The smell of urine hit Caladrin's nose heavily as he slowed his breathing to withstand the smell. He moved his gag slightly with his mouth as he managed to slide it off "Oh dear, not this... well, it appears that we are both playing the role of princess."

The sympathy on Caladrin's face aswell as the worry was prominent as he furrowed his eyebrows and sighed "Oh dear, well at least I can talk now..." He laughed nervously as he looked over at Arkash, gulping "Oh I hope we're not dead..." He whispered to Arkash, rolling his eyes as he looked at the way, he narrowed his eyes as he took a look around the tent as he grabbed a piece of sharp rock that was beside him and passed it over to Arkash "Here... Now's your chance, you better get me out of here too, maybe I can fix that broken nose of yours..." He whispered, trying to look him straight in the eyes as if he meant it. It was difficult though, especially with they way they were back to back.

Created by Moop!

Posted: **Fri Nov 26, 2021 4:08 am**

"...Tha's a no on the wa'uh, then?" he asked when the noble didn't answer him. Arkash shook his head while he leaned against the other male, the noble kid. They were all the same, weren't they? When he gathered his thoughts, he realized Caladrin hadn't thanked him for pulling that rag from his mouth, either. "Kin'a wish I left i' in now," Arkash spoke as he rolled his jaw testing the ache in his cheek and drippy nose.
Arkash stared at the tent's ceiling. It was a sort of cloth tarp, with old, faded dyes that barely clung to the material. It was all held up by a circle of poles that met at the epicenter of the tent and leaned against one another for support. The structure of the tent meant that the ground was bare, and in that bare sand, Caladrin found a sharp rock. "...Conveniunt," Arkash slurred as he poked his tongue about in his jaws to ensure he hadn't lost any teeth. Caladrin apparently wanted him to cut the ropes. Then what? Fight off a hoard of bandits with said sharp rock? "Kay," he spoke with both brows raised and took that sharp rock between his fingers.
He breathed through his mouth, and his nasal cavity filled with his own blood. His nose was broken in such a way that he not only couldn't bleed from it properly but couldn't breathe either. The cool air was most unpleasant on the dryness of his mouth.

Arkash shut his eyes for a moment, and tried to breathe and regain some level of strength while he twirled that rock in his fingers. He seemed to think for a moment, weighing his options. His eyes partly opened and set on the fringes of the tarp, and he wondered for a moment. "...Shield your eyes," he spoke in the accent he more commonly wore when dealing with others. A press of that sharp rock into his palm broke his skin, and he immediately shaped the blood that followed.
Caladrin's nose would be treated with the rich stink of copper as the Vandikar's deep blood was hardened to a small knife, and suffused with incredible sharpness. The rope that bound his wrists snapped with ease. Once his wrists were free, Arkash crawled forward across the sand and cut out a small, long section of the tarp's lower fringe with his sharp, hardened blood, then returned to the bound noble. "If you look at the... Red Raven, the wraith will kill you. This is for your own good," Arkash explained with a lie, then began to tie the piece of the tarp around Caladrin's head and eyes. For good measure, he stuffed that rag back into Caladrin's mouth, either when he was asking confused, or by holding his nose shut until he had to breathe from his mouth.
One way or another, Arkash was blinding and gagging that man. "Be still..." Arkash warned. "I'm using an enchantment Raphael gave me, it will set us free, but we cannot make even a sound... If we do, it will kill us too."
When he was certain that Caladrin was blindfolded and gagged in a way that he couldn't escape, he checked the man's bindings and quickly looked about the sand for any more of those convenient, sharp rocks. When he felt certain that Caladrin was unable to escape by himself, Arkash assumed his true form. Crouched in the darkness of the tent, he crawled toward the hole in the fringe of the tent, then slipped under without so much as a rustle in the sand.

Poised low, Arkash began to crawl along the desert sands. A large firepit had been constructed in the middle of the compound's tent formation, and he did his best to avoid its illuminating glow. He crawled to one of the scattered pikes, dismounted the head, and began to eat it. He needed some strength back if he was going to eliminate an entire compound, and the meat of the poor sod's head would help rejuvenate him... if only a little. When he was done swallowing chunks of broken bone and brain matter, Arkash was on his way back to the tents.

He listened for the heartbeats around him, then piqued his attention when he found one such heartbeat slow, deep in sleep beyond the thin veil of the tent's tarp. Arkash again crawled under the fringe, slipped inside, and quickly pushed his dirk through the sleeping man's eye. He gradually built on that force until he felt the back of the man's skull give way to the pressure of his stab, then began to feast on the fresh, warm meat of his first victim.
All too quickly, Arkash devoured flesh, bone, hair, leather, liters of blood, and guts. He ate absolutely everything, and his rapid metabolism quickly broke down the meat as it hit his stomach. The effects of heatstroke began to recede as his regenerative dranoch abilities began to kick in.
To wash it all down, Arkash collected the devoured man's waterskin and emptied its contents into the back of his darkened maw. The water was purgative, relieving him of the dryness in his form and ending the drought in his head. Rapidly, his metabolism distributed the hydration, and Arkash was fighting fit once more.

Both hands seized the bridge of his nose and snapped it back into place with a hiss of pain, and a resulting flood of black blood met the sand from his nostrils as his airways were cleared. His ears rung at the pain that exploded through his nerves, but his clenched jaw saw him the means to fight through.
From the spattered slurry of nasal fluid and blood, Arkash extracted the usable material, and shaped a shortsword before he suffused it with sharpness. The blade seemed to sing as it wove through the air, heralding its hunger to the world.

He stayed there for a moment and wondered how the noble might be doing. Was the boy still captive and bound? had someone realized that Arkash had escaped? Had Caladrin somehow escaped only to pop off and do his own round of murder? He doubted that last one, Caladrin didn't strike him as a man that had ever been in a fight, let alone taken the life of another. For that, he wondered. Just how terrified was the boy that he was meant to be protecting?

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Posted: **Fri Nov 26, 2021 12:27 pm**

☾87th Ash, 4621☽

Caladrin was too invested in his own thoughts; yet they were clouded.

Dehydration. Delirium.

Caladrin tried to concentrate on the task at hand, the words that came out of Arkash's mouth appeared to be nullified. Delirium. Once again it struck as he shook his head and tried to snap out of his dreamy thoughts "Right, what's going on, what's happening I..." He stopped for a moment. The dehydration appeared to have affected the noble's concentration, it served himself right for screaming, kicking and wasting his energy over the mere fact that their kidnap was inevitable. It was the badlands. The badlands are known for these sort of things. Criminals, thugs and thieves scattered across the continent in search for one thing. Freedom. Caladrin looked over at Arkash for a moment as he tiredly stares at him "Ahh, if only I had water that would've been a help. Perhaps if I knew we were going this route, I would've come more prepared... You'll have to suffer a bit whilst we find some" He sighed.

The bandits had plenty of water surely, they lived in this area, thrived and survived in it. They knew the land very well from it's dusty sunderstorms and the corruptive ether in the air. There was no question that most of them had 'the madness.' The thought scared Caladrin even more, wanting to break out from his bindings as he passed Arkash the sharp rock on the floor "Convenience is always a good sign" He said. His heart was pounding as he was petrified. He hadn't seen much of the outside world, only been involved in his families' political affairs as well as their deeply argumentative conversation they have about him and his brother. Their future. Whilst Telias made his own way, Caladrin was unsure. Nardothis seemed like the good spot for him, but the journeys there and back proved to be dangerous. Especially if it involved the badlands.

Caladrin turned towards Arkash as he gave him that look. The annoyance in Caladrin's face spoke clearly to Arkash as his furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head "Well don't look at me like that, you already impersonate Raphael back at the fortress. Ugh..." He rolled his eyes and let out a deep breath. He noticed that Arkash couldn't breath properly. The bandits must have hit him quiet hard, yet he wanted to smack him in the face as well. He bit his tounge, held his nerve for much longer. He listened to Arkash's breathing, knowing that he was breathing through his mouth. The smell of his breath bothered him the most as he winced and pulled a face in disgust before he shook his head "Oh by the grace of Ulen, do you mind your hygiene. I feel sorry for you" He complained "It's not your fault that you were born in a pig sty, wherever your from." He said as he looked at the other man for a moment "Neither did I ask to be born in an exhausting, tiring noble family... You may think you have it tough, but we have it tougher in regards to our rules and regulations. The laws, our candor system..." He conversed whilst Arkash was coming up with a plan.

He wondered what Arkash was doing behind as he asked to shield his eyes, he closed them tightly. The smell of copper hit his nose "What's that smell... It's weird, almost metallic, like in those artificing labs in Nardothis" The male was curious. It was strange how the scent permeated his nose as it faded when Arkash crawled forward. He watched curiously as he looked at him wincing "Wha, what you are doing..." He asked as he reached the lower fringe of the tarp hanging above the tent

"Red Raven?"

A term that he had never heard before; what happened to the logical ways of life? Was the slave boy invested in the dead realm that much? Was he a revenant? Caladrin's heartbeat raised as his eyes widen in fear. He could feel the blindfold shadow his eyes as he shuddered for a moment "What, what you are doing? What's going on, tell me!" He said in a frantic panicked way. He was panicked, especially when he heard that the slave boy had been dealing with wraiths; the creatures from the dead realm showed no mercy to the living. Caladrin knew that they were dangerous. Deeply dangerous. His mother was a master ferrier, he knew that she had also had ways in the dead realm. Miasma was her weapon and so it's what the spirits yearn for. The gag was stuffed back in Caladrin's mouth once again. His eyes were wide between the blindfold as he was petrified.

Petrified by fear.

The fear increased as he knew that Raphael had been dabbling in some sinister plot, but not involving the dead realm. Was he planning lichdom? Was he planning to unleash wraiths upon the world? His mind had been surging through possibilities that the sick, evil and twisted man (yet lawful in every right) has been found to be doing even more diabolical things. When he was asked to be still, his shriveled up. The tension in his shoulder had risen as he could hear the odd scuttering sounds of feet as they entered the sound. The reptilian sounds of gnawing can be heard making Caladrin cringe, shudder and wince in fear, although he tried his best not to show it, kept it psychologically in the back of his mind. However, he was shaken. He desperately clambered behind for that sharp rock that Arkash was using as he flicked it away from him.

Now he was in big trouble. How was he going to get himself free now, and did Arkash manage to get him water? The tent was silent for a moment. Had the Red Raven left? The noble was left exhausted from fear, tired, hungry and yet psychologically traumatised. He remained motionless, wondering if Arkash would come back. If not, he had to fend for himself. Would he come back?

Created by Moop!

Posted: **Sat Nov 27, 2021 9:40 am**

Well, however the young Lord was doing, it wasn't really any of the Rathor's concern. He did think briefly on the man's delayed responses, and the way his heart rushed when he thought some sort of vengeful spirit was going to come after him. It made Arkash's lips curl with glee.
Why did he feel so thrilled to invoke terror on the one he was meant to be escorting home? He couldn't say for sure, but only because he didn't want to admit that he was angered by the remark of his foul breath.
On the subject of foul, Arkash realized that his clothes had to go. It wouldn't be immediate, he realized. He'd have to find some bandit that best suited his size, then modify their clothes to house his tail somehow. He wasn't a tailor, but he could certainly rip holes in things.

With a shake of his head, he peered through a crack in the tent's draped entrance, then looked about the campfire with uncertainty. A furrow of his brow followed when he found nothing. Where were all the bandits? Carefully, he parted the drape and slipped from the entrance into the dark of the desert's night.
Quiet claws ran along the sand, moving from tent to tent where he heard the steady heartbeats of those that slept. One throat at a time, Arkash pushed his blade through the vitals of his enemies. When he found the one that matched him best for build and stature, he quietly took the man's life and adorned his new clothing, then peeked from the cover of the tent.
Across the compound, walking toward the tent he'd been stowed in with Caladrin, was the brute that had attacked him and utterly ruined his potato sack clothing. Arkash curled his nose. In his company was a woman of dark complexion, much like his humanoid form. He all but hissed in frustration. Of course the man he wanted to kill most of all was with someone else; it made his job all the more difficult with other witnesses around.
While he would have preferred to catch that man alone, he was prompted to action. They were about to discover that Caladrin was by himself, and then the whole compound would be up in arms looking for him.

With little thought, Arkash rushed from the cover of the tent and sprinted toward them from across the way. Gunshots sounded, and Arkash looked to the main building in the camp as a burst of sand erupted behind him, then in front of him.
It was had to see because of his reptilian eyes, but he saw the silhouettes of two atop one of the guard towers. They were yelling in some language that Arkash did not understand, and forced a curl of his lip. A look in front of him revealed that the other two had seen him, too. He was discovered. Arkash grunted as he cast sway, and skid to a halt in the sand, just in time to evade another gunshot.
Another bullet whistled by his ear as he pulled all the exposed blood within a hundred feet of himself to his arm, and built an inch-thick shield... Just as the two brutes drew their guns and fired upon him. Both bullets struck the surface of his wall while he covered his form with the tower-like obstruction, then lowered it to continue his mad dash for the two. They dropped their guns and tried to draw their curved swords, but the female was the only one that succeeded, as Arkash cut off the hand of the one that had brutalized him not even an hour prior.
A scream of terror and pain wailed outside Caladrin's tent as the man fell to his knees, clutching his stump. Arkash changed direction on a dime, and kicked up a spray of sand as he ran through, cut the sword of the woman in two, then slashed through her trunk with enough depth to engrave the front of her spine. She wobbled on the spot, and as she fell back, Arkash spun on the sand and severed her head with a cleave. That same spin saw him raise his shield to block another gunshot. The second blast struck the sand somewhere behind him.

Some horn blew from the main building, and Arkash bared his teeth. Calls and screams of bitter anger rang out as foes from all parts of the camp began to wake from their tents and ready their arms.
A curse fell from his lips, and he looked to the hand-less one on the ground before spitting his copious, revolting spit and venom on the man. Dissatisfied with his vengeance, Arkash snatched the brute's waterskin, then rushed for the tent. He bloodshaped a holster from the body of the woman he'd almost cut clean in half and sheathed his sword at the hip before he entered the tent with grave intent written on his reptilian features. He hadn't the time to change, they had to go. Quickly, he cut a hole through the back of the tent, grabbed the back of Caladrin's shirt, and pulled him through.
Whether Caladrin resisted or not was none of his concern. All he knew was they had to go, and quickly. It was no doubt difficult for Caladrin to keep up without his arms to support him, and the fact that he was gagged didn't help him with the breathing, either. Just for a second, Arkash stopped producing tracks in the sand to pull the gag from the younger man's mouth. "If you wanna live then 'ew betta' run, Fatty!" he warned over the blaring sound of horns and alarms, the enraged yelling of bandits in the background.

With his warning delivered, Arkash continued to pull the man along. They made it some distance too, up until the revving of those chariots rang behind them. "Fackin'..." The reptile cursed under his breath, then jumped at the sound of gunshots, bullets spraying the sand around them on the incline of one of the desert's dunes. Running in the sand was hard work, but as they made it over the top, they were able to slide down halfway until Arkash pushed his foot claws into the sand and yanked the noble to break his momentum.
They weren't even a mile from the camp when Arkash held Caladrin to the cool desert dune and thrust his shield into the sand above them like a barricade. There, he drew his sword and cut the binds that tied Caladrin's hands with a flick of his wrist. "Stay down or they'll pop 'ew head off!" Arkash warned, then stared up the shield that covered them. No doubt, the moment those chariots came over, the men would take a shot at the first thing they saw that wasn't dessert.
Arkash bit into his own wrist, sinking his serrated teeth into his arm. His jaw tensed under the pain, but it was something he was familiar with at that point. There, he waited for the sounds of the chariots to burst from over the dune and looked to the blindfolded noble.

Image source.

Posted: **Wed Dec 01, 2021 9:48 am**

87th Ash, 4621

Caladrin was shaking, petrified as he was left alone in the tent. The sudden thoughts of a vengeful spirit from the dead realm hoaxed his mind. Everything was fine, silent as Caladrin saw a opportunity to compose himself of fear, taking the moment to calm himself down. A sudden gasp came from him as the sound of gunshots alarmed him. Was Arkash spotted? Did the enchantment that Raphael gave him work? Or was it a flop in the plan? He waited as silence reigned in once again.

He shuddered, trying not to make a sound as he curled up into a tight ball. All he could hear was the desert wind rolling in, like the tumbleweeds that would cross over. It was a serene moment, one that appeared calming and soothing. That was about to change. The screams of anguish and pain from the brute's severed hand proved too frightful for the Veir to handle as he curled himself up for a moment. He was young, no experience in his life other than to show piety to Ulen and the political ways of the Entente. He may be trained socially, but there was far more to the world.

His fear was a sign of weakness, a sign of inexperience in these environments. A valid sign that another Ententer could use against him. It was not like anyone would know that the young man would've screamed and flailed for his life. An embarrassing story indeed. However, there was one problem. Would Arkash tell Raphael? Would Raphael have the satisfaction of bringing down a highly driven Sil'Norai family? The horror of such thing shocked him even more. He did not want to show a sign of weakness, especially to the bandits. He had no choice but to bottle his fear up. Bravery was the only course of action for the young Veir; his source of survival. To make himself look weak was to give into the bandit's intentions, making him more malleable as a victim. However, he was the victim.

Blindfolded.

Hands tied behind his back.

There wasn't a single ounce of hope for him other than the sheer dumb luck that the slave boy would come back for him. The sudden grasp of his collar startled Caladrin before he had been violently pulled backwards. He was gasping for air, finding it difficult to breath with the torrents of sand hitting his face. Eventually, he felt himself stop as the gag was removed from his mouth as he listened to Arkash. He bolted immediately with Arkash as he guided him through the desert. He was still blinded. The comment that the rathor made about the Veir's weight whilst they was escaping angered the man. However, he ignored it.

The horns blaring out and the enraged battle cries of the bandits concerned Caladrin as he was being pulled by the rathor. The revving of chariots proved to be a nightmare; they were manuevuring closer to them, firing and laughing as they looked at the other man "So, are we just gonna sit here and let them absolutely obliterate us or do you have a plan?" He asked as he took off his blindfold and looked around curiously, he moved his head up to see what was going on before swiftly bobbed back down again. They missed Caladrin's head as he rolled his eyes "Oh by the name of Ulen's Surveying Eye..." They ceased fire.

Caladrin looked over his shoulder for a moment; a much bigger brute that followed them both from the previous camp, came at Arkash with his fists flailing. Eventually, Caladrin decided to put up a fight. The reason why? His inferiority complex grew stronger as he charged at the brute, slamming his fist into his solar plexus. However, Caladrin wasn't use to the art of unarmed combat; his fist hurt as he managed to subdue to brute, only for a short while, before he was grabbed by the neck and lifted up. He flailed his legs about as he was being strangled..

"Ehh, a puny thing like you trying to go against someone like me! YOU'VE CHOSEN THE WRONG OPPONENT!"

Caladrin was thrown with such force onto the ground as he was kicked in the solar plexus back; as he looked back. He could feel himself become winded with the force amongst his stomach. The paralysing blow was enough to render Caladrin gasping for air "S... Slave boy! Look, ambush!" He coughed out as he tried his best to regain his strength. Still, there was nothing he could do, but wait for the sudden paralytic feeling to subside as he regained tried to regain his strength, realising that there were more bandits surrounding them.

"Atleast, I tried..."

Posted: **Wed Dec 08, 2021 3:26 am**

Of course, Caldrin removed his blindfold, which was to say he was greeted by the visage of Arkash's true form. The Rathor rose a brow at his question, then furrowed both of them. "...No, we're laying in wait. Am-" But Caladrin was already gone, off to challenge some brutes. "...Seriously?" Arkash asked from under the shield, still hidden.
He watched as the shrimp noble squared up to the larger male. Arkash thought for a moment and resolved to stay undercover. Caladrin was an Entente, an extremely powerful mage. Perhaps he was simply the wildcard they needed to escape? Could Caladrin wipe out all their enemies with a single spell? It frightened him to think about, and he watched with awe as the man walked fearlessly into battle.
Caladrin took his swing, and Arkash briefly thought that Caladrin might possess some sort of strength-boosting magic, but that thought quickly dispelled when Caladrin doubled over in pain, clutching his wrist. Arkash blinked in disbelief. Caladrin had really walked into a fight with no experience at all?
Then, in one fell swoop, he was snatched by a second brute, then kicked to the floor in a display of force. Arkash blinked in disbelief. He'd just witnessed the death of an entente, one of the world's greatest mages.
No, he'd spoken too soon. Caladrin wasn't dead; he still breathed on the floor. But for how much longer? He didn't know. He waited just a little longer for the mage's magic to kick in; maybe he had some sort of poison touch and inflicted a degenerative effect on the brute? No, nothing happened. Arkash realized he had to help Caladrin.

"Fackin..." he muttered under his breath, and picked up his shield as he burst from the dune with an explosive thrust of his legs. As he began his mad charge across the sand, the chariots broke over the top of the dune and opened fire on him. Arkash immediately ducked behind his shield as those machines roared and blocked four bullets total. They struck all about the same area, indicating that the chariot riders were better shooters than he'd given them credit for.
The chariot roared directly for him, and Arkash threw his weight to the side and rolled across the dune to evade it. One of the brutes, struck by the madness was on him in seconds, Arkash leaped desperately to the side and bared his teeth as he evaded the frantic man's swipes. The chariot riders reloaded their guns as Arkash clumsily dodged while lugging the awkward-sized shield.
Finally, an opening came, and Arkash dipped his sword to sever the brute's arm, then leg, twirled, and cut him in half right along the spine. Two halves of the brute flew apart, and dropped to the sand in a spatter of vibrant red, rent only by the black of his blood sword.
As the second brute closed in, Arkash thrust his sword through the man's stomach and held himself close to the man. The second volley of gunshots unloaded into the living shield Arkash had made of the brute, two total. Arkash made the motion of dropping the body, and two more gunshots boomed directly against the brute's back. The human coughed up bits of his insides all over Arkash's head as the black blade tore up his insides, and the bullets rendered his back broken in too many places to function.
With a sneer, he threw the body to the floor, then looked at Caladrin, who lay on the sand. His half-blind eyes quickly darted about the dunes to dry and find the chariots, but he hadn't the time nor the farsight he needed. Caladrin was exposed on the sand, so Arkash pulled all the blood he could from the brutes, and in a torrent of red, washed over Caladrin with a protective dome of inch-thick, steel-strength blood, hardened and solid.

As more rifles filled the horizon. Arkash lifted his shield to block the aim of those that lifted their guns against him, but he wasn't nearly as skilled with the thing as he needed to be. He blocked the frontward volley, but the chariots swung around and capitalized on his opening. World-breaking pain ripped through him as tremendous force ripped through his stomach and shoulder.
Arkash stumbled back as two more gunshots sounded, and with it, another burst of pain. He couldn't believe it, he'd been shot three times already.
A glance down at himself revealed the gaping gunshot wounds, oozing thick black bile. He didn't have time. More sweat stunk up the breeze, and Arkash turned to block the third volley of gunshots. The rapid fire of gunshots ripped up blasts of sand as he exposed his back to the other party, and again, got shot.
His vision became hazy in the pain, his arms and legs shook. It was hard to lift the shield with his shoulder as damaged as it was. He could still breathe, he could still see.
Arkash trembled as they became completely surrounded by badlanders, all having caught up to them. His thick blood painted the sand while he held himself, doubled in agony. He couldn't hold the shield up anymore, his fingers let go of the sword, which fell to the sand in a slurry of his own lifeblood.

That was it, then? Did he die protecting a noble of all things? And for what? Just for them to get captured again? His hearing and vision blurred as he receded and fell to one knee. The badlanders were screaming at him, roaring something incoherent in their tongue. With his stomach torn to pieces, he didn't have the muscle he needed to hold himself up. He leaned into his shield for support and stared at his claws while more yelling echoed around him.
Malafor rang fresh in his mind. Why that psychotic terrorist stirred memories in his final moments, he didn't know.
Arkash looked up from his claws, and looked down the barrel of his captor's gun, the bald-headed human with the eyepatch. Arkash furrowed his brow and drifted in and out of his memories.
Malafor, Arkash had run him through, but in his final moments, he prepared some sort of spell. A spell that bulged his veins and compressed tremendous force... The mage had perished before it came to fruition, but it struck him in those seconds. What more could he do but try? He was dead either way, right?

He let go of his shield as he began to cast that spell through the sacrifice of his own lifeblood. His arms drew close to his chest, and he balled up in the fetal position on the floor. The Badlander's leader began to laugh as Arkash shook, in what he assumed was fear.
What the badlander didn't see was how Arkash's arms and legs bulged at the veins and arteries, and how he pulled most of the blood in his body to his chest and compressed it. His teeth bared under the pressure as he squeezed his own heart, and he felt his consciousness slipping.
Amusement turned to confusion, and the badlander pressed the heel of his foot to Arkash's gunshot arm. Some question was delivered, but Arkash couldn't hear them.
Before he faded completely, he shot up and unleashed Bloodfury with a cry of rage and pain. A Vicious black wave sharpened and hardened at his epicenter, ripping through his scales as he shot up and literally exploded from the middle.
Ultra-sharp, dense blood ripped through everyone in a hundred feed. The leader was completely obliterated point-blank, torn to shreds. other badlanders were demolished and torn to raggedy pieces as the explosive wave ran through them like paper.
Sharp black blades even pierced Caladrin's dome some inch or two deep as Arkash released all his stored power in one fell swoop, killing everyone in the vicinity bar the noble.
The dunes ran red as the last of the mangled bodies hit the floor, and Arkash stood tense on his knees in the epicenter of that gorey scene, torn to bits.
Before he fell, he cast sway to harden the blood in his wounds to prevent further bleeding or infection.
He cast a glance to Caladrin, then cast sway on the dome that protected him. All at once, the dome would return to liquid, and Caladrin would be completely soaked with the blood of his enemies as it all fell and splashed on him. Arkash exchanged only one glance with the noble before he shut his eyes and dropped face first in the sand.
Caladrin was left alone, surrounded by broken bodies and Blood in The Sand. The only sounds around him were the whistle of the desert wind, and the idle hum of the chariots, with engines that were left on during the blast.

Image source.

Posted: **Wed Dec 15, 2021 7:54 pm**

87th Ash, 4621

Caladrin groaned as he was plummeled into the sand by the brutish man "Ahh... Ulen's grace..." He let out as he was completely sundered by the large man. He limped as he looked back at Arkash for a moment, watching him come with the sonic pacing of his legs. He was ready, battleguarded as he watched with awe as he saw his true beast form. A lace monitor? A komodo dragon? He groaned out in pain for a moment as he watched the chariots open fire on Arkash. The quick evasive turns he took as he watched in awe, realising that he was gonna help him. It was odd though, a slave boy helping someone who would politically trample on them because of their hierarchy. The way he relentlessly thought through the cascade of the badlanders was something he had never seen an ordinary boy do.

Maybe he wasn't ordinary; maybe there was some secret that he had hiding within him. Caladrin was intrigued. To his horror, he discovered something far forbidden as he noticed the way the blood would telekinetically float around him as if he had witnessed something horrific "Vandikar..." He whispered as the dome encased Caladrin, protecting him from whatever had came through as the dome of hardened blood brittled and repaired itself with each gunshot. The mage had much control over his abilities, as if he was already powerful. That didn't change once fact though.

He was a Vandikar.

A blood mage.

An insect of Valteran's spawn, now driven by the power that he held. The power gained by other people's suffering as well as their ability to convert their own pain into power. He was the epitome of anarchy and yet Caladrin wondered if he had ever came across such a secret he would wonder what he would do with him. Still, he couldn't see beyond the dome, but the sounds of flesh splattering as well as an explosion of guts, followed by the gunshots as they continued to brittle the walls of the dome as they missed Arkash. Caladrin looked around, but could not see beyond the viscous ichor that had enveloped him, like a protective barrier. The sounds of screaming men and their anguished cries before their silence ended with the guttural sounds of their vocal chords either being cut or simply decapitated by the hungry dranoch lizard.

The gunshots made Caladrin duck as he could hear the sound of a bloody explosion. The sound of guts flying everywhere as the bullets from Arkash's body ricocheted out. One which narrowly slashed Caladrin's arm as it came past. He winced in pain and held the wound shut. The dome withered away, revealing a bloody mess as he made eye contact with Arkash. The stare was menacing, intimidating as he watched him shut his eyes and fall down limply into the sand. There was indeed Blood in the Sand, for now Caladrin had been left alone. The Vandikar saved his life, yet he was a threat to his reputation. If he saved him, he would unleash a demon amongst the world, but yet there was a line of moral consequence. However bad the situation was, Caladrin couldn't leave him for if Raphael found out, he could have devastating consequences for the SIl'Othis family.

Caladrin made sure he didn't leave any footprints or marks in his reputation and chose to help the slave boy. He picked up his body as he growled out before slumping it on the back of a chariot "Ulen, you're not making me do this are you..." He said to himself as he rolled his eyes, knowing how crazy it was. He had never ridden a chariot before, but it appeared to be the only option as he kneeled down to figure out the engine "Now to figure out how this thing runs..." He asks himself as he pondered for a moment "Lets see, theres enough fuel, I think..." He sighed in worry as he looked over at Arkash, shaking his head "Perhaps, you do deserve a fucking heroes' chariot ride..." He said as he had thoughts on what to do with the slave boy after the insults he gave him, but yet he wasn't gonna go to ridiculous levels of vindictiveness.

The engine started as he popped Arkash infront of him so he would be stable amongst the chariot, eventually he sighed as he got onto the motorcycle-like structure and shook his head "Ok... Here it goes..." The moment he stared he pressed his foot on the accelerator and screamed as it rode forward, eventually Caladrin got use to the momentum of the vehicle and controlled it with such ease. Now they were making progress. It was time to continue their journey to Amoren as well deal with Arkash's wounds and injuries. He continued onwards until they reached the Southern Marches. It was then, they would get closer to their destination, although he wondered how weak Arkash would get with his subsequent injuries, but yet he thought about the way that the Vandikar had thought relentlessly and weither or not he should have let him live.

He had his doubts.

The Entente had a lot on his plate, was he doing the right thing? Or was he digging his own grave for the future? The future was now in Caladrin's hands, for if there would be Blood in the Sand, there would also be a bloody path for the young Entente. One thing was learning how to drive a chariot, but the other thing was knowing that he had rescued a future anarchist. Was he unleashing a monster upon the world?

However, the real thing he should be worrying about was his clothes.

They weren't Candor worthy anymore considering they were not covered in Arkash's viscous blood as it was sticky "I swear, I've never met anyone who's as messy with their killing as you..." He said to himself as if he was awake.

Could he actually hear him?

They rode off into the distance.

Posted: **Fri Jan 07, 2022 3:06 am**

Thread Review

Arkash

Regular Experience: N/A

Magical Experience: 8 EXP (Blood Magic)

Injury/Ailments: Four gunshot wounds: thigh, shoulder, lower chest, arm. Complications with the gunshot wound to his chest arise due to his mageblight; the internal wounds become clogged with corruption and prevent full healing until he flushes the corruption from his form over the course of a season. As a result, his stamina is heavily handicapped until the 90-day mageblight cleanse is complete. +3 Mageblight (Acquisition of master in BM, +2 mutations)

Awarded Lore:
[*] Blood Magic: Sway: Remotely pull material to yourself
[*] Blood Magic: Bloodshaping: A protective dome
[*] Blood Magic: Bloodshaping: Shield
[*] Blood Magic: Blood Fury: The last resort
[*] Blood Magic: Blood Fury: Cast through sacrifice
[*] Blood Magic: Blood Fury: Uses little ether
[*] Blood Magic: Blood Fury: Explodes from your epicenter, ripping through your surroundings at intense speeds
[*] Blood Magic: Blood Fury: Created with a mixture of Sway and Suffusion.
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[*] [PC] Caladrin: -1 Survival instinct
[*] [PC] Caladrin: Believed the tale of the red raven
[*] [PC] Caladrin: Was defeated by a badlander thug
[*] [PC] Caladrin: Thinks he's tough but he's really not.
[*] [PC] Caladrin: Knows your true form
[*] [PC] Caladrin: Knows about your blood magic
[*] [PC] Caladrin: Your only ticket out of The Badlands

Loot: N/A

Caladrin

Regular Experience: 8 EXP

Magical Experience: N/A

Injury/Ailments: N/A

Awarded Lore:
Unarmed Combat: A punch to the solar plexus
Endurance: Dealing with Injuries
Endurance: Dealing with devastating blows.
Survival: Using the resources around you.
Survival: Learning to ride a chariot
Survival: Learning to Inspect fuel resources on a chariot.

[PC] Arkash: He's a Vandikar
[PC] Arkash: He's a Rathor.

Loot: N/A

Comments: Any points that extend past the cap for Arkash's blood magic can instead be allocated to any other nonmagic skills.

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