[Flashback] The Seeds of Corruption (Solo)

[Eridanus]

Disclaimer: There may be disturbing violence in the following, please do not read if you feel that you're sensitivities will be offended by a lil' hack-and-slash!

Day 10, Spring of 415 AV 48 Chimes after the 6th Bell The Ruins of Nial Eridanus yawned and stretched his arms. He took inventory of his belongings, and started to walk up the ruins of the cellar that he was slumming in, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to the little light that began to fill the sky as Syna began her ascent. He tapped his back to make sure both of his long swords remained strapped there, and leaped to the doorway of the house. The Ruins of Nial. Once a peaceful city, now an abandoned ghost town. It was a squatter's paradise, yet who would want to stay here for an extended period of time? This place lacked the guarantee of food, and strange things tend to happen at night. Things that go bump in places like these that do not happen in fortresses like Syliras. Not with them fanatic Knights guarding there anyway. The youthful, and possibly brash, looking Vantha patted his pockets to made sure that The Package was still there. He did not know what was in there, but he knew that whatever was in there was valuable. He also knew that the black market was willing to pay quite highly for such an object. It all started when he received a freelance job in Sunberth from a scruffy young boy. Well technically not from him, for the kid was acting as a representative for his unknown master. The job was to deliver a simple package from his master to an address in Syliras. The pay was pretty good and he accepted. The only requirement was that the package was not to be opened or the deal would be void. Well, he'd live with that, except that the curiosity began to gnaw at him when he was on his way to Syliras. When he stopped by a random tavern on the road, the kind that travelling merchants use as a rest-stop, he was accosted by random bandits. Well, they were random until Eri decided to relieve their bodies of the gold that burdened them, and he found a note that says "Get the box. Kill the boy." It was then that he decided that it was no random mugging, and somehow he was being tracked for his package. He did some snooping around, in exchange for some favors, and found out that the master of the kid, the guy who gave him this job, was a Nuit wizard - some kind of undead magic practitioner. And he happened to have a fellow rival wizard who would do anything to get this package before it arrives in the safehaven of Syliras. Including murdering the innocent messenger boy who happened to be Eri. The Ethaefal did not take too kindly to attempts on his life. He meddled around with the underground, and finally struck a deal with the rival wizard. Eridanus was tired of getting marked for murder, and the rival wizard was getting tired when all the mercenaries he sent so far ended up dead. In exchange for not constantly fighting for his life and with the bonus incentive of extra gold, Eri betrayed his former master. And that would explain why he stood waiting in the ruins in the wildlands, instead of toasting some stranger in a bar in Stormhold Castle.

[Eridanus]

As he placed a hand on a nearby wall, marveling the cracked rundown surface, he heard snippets of conversation, and his muscles tensed slightly in preparation for possible confrontation. His new master's lackeys have come to collect the package, and if all went well he'd get his due reward and probably spending them somewhere making himself happy in a couple of bell's time. He looked around in the general direction of where the sound came from, and spotted five rather rough-looking humans strolling in a relaxed manner. They looked like your typical seasoned adventurer, stout and rugged, with their cutlass loosely hung from their belts. They seemed to be in a jovial mood, and one of them looked like he was the butt of some kind of joke they were having. Eridanus shouted and waved, which caught their attention. One of the humans, who had a scar down his nose took charge of the situation, and nodded briefly, before motioning the rest of his group to walk towards the Ethaefal. Money money money. Finally it comes. "Do you have it?", the leader barked. It was a manner of courtesy for he obviously expected Eri to have possession of the said package. He looked like he did not take too kindly to wasted time. That suited the Vantha, for he did not like wasting time as well. "Right over here. Show my the shineys first." Eridanus pinched the cloth covering of The Package and brought it up above his pocket just to prove its existence, before dropping it back in. The other members of the group looked at the leader expectantly, and he after a moment of contemplation, he nodded. All of a sudden, the group drew their weapons in unison, the sharp jarring sound of steel being unsheathed. Eridanus swore, and he felt the adrenaline building up within him as his mortal shell considered the many ways of leaving the mortal coil if any part of him came into contact with those blades. He was partially surprised, but currently the very real threat of death overwhelmed his surprise at being betrayed and he began to run backwards. "Stop! My cutlass just feels lonely!" the leader jeered sarcastically, causing his fellow men to laugh in response. "Get him, lads." Fortunately for the Ethaefal, he had took the time the previous night to map out the area he was in and get a general feel of the topography. Without thinking, he bolted towards the area of the ruins where he knew there were the least open areas - probably what used to be a crowded residential area or merchant district. He did not sprint, however, breaking into a comfortable run, enough to keep the distance between him and the threateningly sharp ends of the weapons the brigands were waving. He vaulted over a piece of rock in front of him, not bothering to detour. Wherever he intended to go, it had to be done in as quick as possible a time and that meant traveling in a straight line, no matter the obstacle. As he jogged, he glanced quickly behind him and saw that the band chasing him were swearing as they slightly altered their paths to avoid the varying pieces of debris on the ground and sticking out of abandoned structures, buying Eridanus a little bit more time. He turned around, gave the nearest brigand a rude sign with his hand, and neared a shoulder-level piece of rock, what seemed to be the dilapidated remains of a stone fountain. This would bode well for him, for he had not drawn any weapons, but not for anyone wanting to scale this hunk of granite with only one hand. This should slow them down considerably. Without stopping, he slowed down his speed sufficiently to avoiding impacting into the debris embarrassingly, and kicked a point about half a short-sword's distance above the ground. Using the force generated from the impact, he grabbed the top of the wall with both hands and pushed himself up, flattening his body against his hands and the top of the wall and rolling down to the other side, kicking against the other side of the wall just before he landed on the opposite end of the wall to give him that extra momentum. He continued running.

[Eridanus]

Jared Vikaul swore when his target bolted. His other four comrades looked at him for further orders, and he sighed. While they were loyal and probably pretty good in the cutting-people-up department, he honestly doubted their ability in the own-initiative and think-for-yourself department. A couple of days ago, he was hired by a young lad to carry out a hit mission, along with other four ruffians and his relatively superior intellect had resulted in him being selected as the in-charge. He thought of it more as a fail-safe for his employer than as an achievement for himself, he doubted that the employer would very much want to extract mission results from a bunch of dimwits who spend their life flitting between ale and murder. Well, technically he wasn't hired by a young lad of course. Oh no. A soldier-of-fortune like him would not risk the chances of doing a job for someone lacking the possible credit. Then he'd have to cut up the employer and compensate himself. Jared definitely did not prefer self-compensation. He liked fast and easy transactions. The young lad had shown him all the gold-rimmed mizas he had with him, and then before the seasoned cutthroat could formulate the thought of robbery, he swore the lad's eyes turned milky white for a split-second. He wasn't sure, but if he were hired by a mage, he woudn't want to risk the ire of one of those psychopaths by killing his messenger. "Get him, lads." He cried, jabbing his cutlass in the direction where his mark had ran, and gave chase. The human seemed to be like a nimble gazelle, crossing obstacles like they were nothing, but Jared wasn't impressed. It was usually the ones who couldn't fight who developed a superior skill in escaping. He increased his pace, swerving to avoid an incoming rock, and kicked aside a smaller piece of rubble in front of him. He heard an "oof" as one of his brutes knocked himself on the obstacle that he just avoided, and tried his best to resist rolling his eyes and to keep the focus on the game. Oh yes, when he finally get the little fella, he'd do him the favor of seperating his head from his shoulders and obtaining The Package, and then use his reward to make merry with the fine wenches in Sunberth. After a couple of twist and turns, he realized that the density of structures had increased unknowingly, and he also realized that only two of his comrades were still visible behind him, the rest probably too slow or stupid to catch up. You can't have everything in life, after all. He did get promised the majority of the bounty, and he supposed that if he could argue that two of the ruffians did not contribute to the hit, he could possibly get a larger share of the reward. He glanced ahead just in time to see his prey vault over a lmp of shoulder-height rubble, slowing down and crossing it with swift practised motions. There was no paths to circumvent that without making a huge detour and possibly risk losing his target. Jared sighed again, and slowed down, stopping just in front of the wall. He sheathed his cutlass, for he did not want to risk gutting himself if he happened to be clumsy, and with a grunt he pulled himself over, awkwardly crossing his legs one at a time until he was on the other side. He dropped to the ground heavily, his boots kicking up dust, and drew his blade once more, seeing the figure of the human turn a corner up ahead. The mercenary swore, the distance between them seemed to be increasing gradually. He looked back, and heard the grunting behind him as his comrades attempted to cross the barrier, and decided not to wait for them. After all, he would be more than enough for his fleet-footed prey.

[Eridanus]

Eridanus stole a quick glance behind him just before he rounded a corner. What looked like to be the leader, and possibly the most capable one of the group, was in the midst of crossing the very same wall he crossed quite a while ago. He did not exactly plan what he was going to do, but he did have a vague idea, aided by whatever he could remember regarding the layout of the city ruins. Crossing yet another corner, he passed through a crumbing alleyway to bring himself back near the where he met the bandits. It was also where he spotted one of them, walking with a limp, his cutlass almost dragging the floor as he grumbled and swore. Apparently he had not been dexterous enough to avoid one of the many debris on the ground while in fast pursuit. His heart pounding faster, the Vantha stalked the human, consciously lightening his foot steps and automatically minimizing his breathing, gradually closing the distance between them. Eridanus was not particularly skilled in the ways of stealth, but he knew enough about it to attempt to emulate its forms. Unfortunately, his body was not experienced enough to avoid a blunder and just as he neared the human he accidentally kicked a pebble, causing it to skid and alerting the ruffian. The brigand turned around in reflex and his eyes widen. Just before he could raise his weapon, however, Eridanus had already leaped forward towards the man. Drawing his steel blade quickly, the Vantha carried on the momentum of the movement and cut the brigand down from his left neck to his right hip in one swift motion. He was not fast enough to silence the man, and his shocked cry resonated amongst the city walls shortly after the sound of steel being unsheathed. The Vantha did not stop, however, and quickly thrust his blade through the man's chest, the steel sliding in easily as though the flesh was like water. Stepping forward, he kicked the twitching body down, releasing his sword and the freshly deceased man crumpled on the ground, his corpse marred with a gaping hole in the chest and an ugly long laceration decorating half his body. Eridanus knew that the noise would no doubt attract the attention of others, and with one strong flick of his blade he flung off most of the blood coating the metal, and he sheathed it again, running silently to the cover of another nearby building, placing himself down in a prone position to reduce chances of detection and hid amongst the rubble, gazing intently at the man's body waiting for his comrades to investigate.

[Eridanus]

"Rigo? Y'nid my 'elp?" Lonin asked. He had left his buddy behind for a moment while he scouted ahead for the condescending leader, the bastard Jared, who left them behind apparently in his eager attempt for the prey. Rigo had stubbed his leg pretty painfully on a particularly jagged piece of debris and had severe walking problems. Lonin decided to make a feeble attempt to find his leader, probably, failing and staying back to chill with his buddy, maybe take a swig of ale or two in the waterskin he brought along. They could always argue that their leader left them behind and they got lost, and still get paid for the job. Now that was real smarts for you. He sniggered, and decided to stop scouting and headed back. That idiot Rigo probably hit another rock and fell on his face or something, and he'd have to help him up again. Maybe having a couple of jokes at his expense. As he turned back, he saw a sight that chilled his blood. Rigo lay crumpled on the ground, the ground around him already beginning to seep with his blood. He spotted the gaping hole in his chest and a large and long cut across his torso and swore, raising his cutlass and looking around warily. "Anybody? Run into a lil' problem 'ere!" He shouted, maybe hopefully someone would hear. Was there a new threat here? He had heard rumors about the ruins, but that was exactly why they decided to set the time in the morning when the sun shone unforgivably above all. He heard that the light tend to discourage creepy critters from appearing. Still, this was the ruins and the area gave off a chilly air that was absent from other cities. He edged towards the body, looking around, ready to ward off an attack. It was to his credit that he did not run away immediately, but the allure of the reward remained strong and he knew that if he backed off now he would be automatically disqualified from any portion of the gold. Lonin heard a single thud on the ground, and immediately spun around, raising his cutlass in a slant across his upper torso. This proved to his benefit, and the mercenary found himself locked in arms with the very target they were pursuing earlier. He was unrecognizable now, earlier he had the relaxed composure of a nonchalant country bumpkin, but now, he face was twisted into a cold and cruel expression, and his eyes... God his eyes were blood red. A crimson red that spoke of madness. The very same kind of red that animals get when they contracted rabies. The bandit let out a gasp and, his heart almost in his mouth, backed off waving his blade frantically and somehow succeeding in parrying the blows rained by the Vantha. The madman was using a long sword with one hand, his eyes staring straight ahead as if through him, and raining blow after blow mercilessly, and it was all Lonin could muster to ward off the attacks. He was at a disadvantage, for his own weapon was shorter, and by virtue of that he was nearer to the clanging of steel than the Vantha. He swore, and with the added strength granted by adrenaline, he yelled a battle-cry and leaped forward, the force of his thrust enhanced withthe strength drawn from his emergency reserves. The Vantha was driven back, and for a moment his eyes widened with surprise, but it was over just as quickly as it happened, his mouth twisting into a small side smile like it was all a joke. Lonin slashed ahead blindly, sure that one of his attacks would eventually slay the target. After all, it had often worked in the past, though granted his victims previously did not wield a weapon as the Vantha had now. He increased the intensity of his blows, confidence growing as each blow seemed to push the target further back, and finally grinned in triumph when his cutlass swerved towards the Vantha's unprotected hip. That short moment of triumph, unfortunately for Lonin, was dashed when the target drew a second blade so quickly he swore the hands just flashed to parry his attack. This second blade looked similar to the first one, but it looked like it had a different color and texture. Lonin roared in anger and swung his blade upwards, intending to bring it down on the Vantha's head, splitting the bastard into. That will teach him. The Vantha gave a grim chuckle, and used his steel sword to redirect the cutlass to the side, at the same time using his non-master arm to thrust the cold-iron blade into the bandit. Without batting an eyelid, he used the moment of weakness the stab afforded him to drive his steel sword downwards, effectively amputating the bandit's hand and essentially disarming him. Lonin gave a cry of terror and pain, and he tried to back away, wincing as he attempted to escape the cold-iron blade lodged in his stomach. He swung forward with his remaining good arm, only to be foiled as the Vantha used the arm wielding the steel blade to block his hook by bending his arm such that the forearm absorbed the impact. There was a flash of light, and Lonin saw red, followed by darkness. Eridanus blocked the clumsy blow with a carefully placed forearm, and straightened his arm, plunging the steel blade down, lodging into the brigand's skull and splitting half his head. He kicked the body again, releasing his cold-iron blade from the man's stomach and followed up by a swift decapitation, his steel blade then flinging the head a couple of yards away. He did not know why, but the human had a look of terror like he had seen a horrible monster. All he knew was that he was completely focused on defeating this villain who tried to slay him, probably at the behest of that double-crossing asshole rival wizard. Flinging his blades once more to remove the gore, Eridanus sheathed both blades again, and ducked into the ruins, opting to travel through the ruins instead of in the open streets. He used one hand to support his body and vaulted over some ruined furniture, and continued running, a heavier panting indicating the toll the previous skirmishes had on his body.

[Eridanus]

Like a silent predator, Eridanus traveled through the abandoned structures that were parallel to the route he used when escaping. As he rounded yet another twist, he stopped when he saw two from the company wandering around, engaged in small talk with each other and giving gestures indicating that they''re probably lost. He tried to calm himself, but it looked like his heart never stopped pounding from before and there was a fresh injection of adrenaline, further contributing to his mounting excitement. He crept forward, making sure to step only on flat ground and not making the same mistake earlier. He flattened himself against the nearest wall until he could hear snippets of conversation and slowly shifted himself until he got catch a glimpse. "Where em lads?" A gruff voice emanated from the beefier thug. "Iunno. Damn Jared ran too fast. Like a bloody monkey." The skinner one shrugged. It seemed like they both did not like the leader, for both laughed nastily and carried on strolling ahead. "Jared prob'ly gutted that fella. "Free gold, yar?" They crowed and the beefier one patted the other on the back. Eridanus took this precise moment to launch into a dash when their backs were squarely facing him, drawing both blades swiftly. The loud screech of metal alerted the thugs to what was happening behind them and they spun around, their hands reaching for their holstered blades. The stout mercenary did not get to finish his action, for Eridanus was too quick for him and in an easy practiced motion had destroyed his body in a series of flurries from both blades, his body collapsing as bits of his body dropped around him. The skinnier bandit gasped in horror and managed to draw his cutlass in time to parry the next attack, but was pushed backwards by the force of blocking two long swords with his weapon. He backed away, his eyes quickly flitting over the location in an attempt to find any escape routes, but was forced to focus ahead of him again as his enemy began his assault anew. From what he could deduce, the Vantha fought by using his steel sword as a main attack - probably his main arm - and the other lighter blade - probably iron or some inferior material - as a form of failsafe or for defensive manoeuvres. He decided to keep strafing in a circle towards the Vantha's iron-blade-arm, that was probably his weaker spot, and by doing so he lessened the chances of being assaulted by both blades simultaneously. After a while without any clanging, the Vantha also adjusting to his strafing warily, the bandit quickly leaped foward and swung his cutlass. The Vantha grunted as he deflected the blow in a less-than-ideal timing and the cutlass drew blood from his side. The bandit silently crowed in achievement, though he was annoyed by the deflection. If he had been successful he would have gutted the damned target and he'd be able to collect his gold without Jared getting a single cut. His thoughts were cut short when he dodged, narrowly missing a follow-up sweep, and raising his cutlass to parry a thrust from the other sword. He had never fought with someone using two swords before, and it was insanely intensifying. He did not know what to expect. Well, he had some tricks of his own. The human feinted right, and lunged left, sweeping his blade in at mid-torso level, hopefully severing the Vantha's upper torso from his legs if he succeeded. The target was prepared, unfortunately, and the bandit heard a loud clang as his cutlass resounded with the steel long sword that the Vantha stabbed into the ground for support. What he didn't hear was the swish of the cold-iron blade in the other hand, as it cut into his upper rib. Blood splattered the floor behind the bandit and he breathed heavily, his adrenaline still pushing his body and numbing the pain. He lunged further forward, stabbing at the target's face, intending to at least bring him down together. It was then he noticed the psychopathic expression, the mirthless smile and the insane way the colors of the eyes shifted. It was also the last thing he saw, as the Vantha released his grip on the steel long sword - the blade remaining anchored on the ground - and punched the bandit back, twisting his body to avoid the thrust and reflexively thrusting his cold-iron sword into the desperate man's throat. There was a muffled groan and the lights in the man's eyes went out. Eridanus was disturbed, however, not by the violence but by the horror in the brigand's eyes that was similar to the previous one. It was like the Ethaefal had tentacles on his back or something. He sheathed his cold-iron blade, leaving his steel sword drawn, and headed forward warily, certain that the leader would be back after the noise he made.

[Eridanus]

After a while, Eridanus reached the same shoulder-length rubble that he vaulted over not too long ago. Despite the great area of the city, interestingly he had met his assailants only in areas where they had travelled. It seemed that the leader of the hit team realized the practical narrowness of the area despite the seemingly vast land and was back on the starting side of the wall, having found the same building that Eridanus used to bypass and detour earlier. He faced the bandit leader, assuming his own kind of combat stance with his steel long sword, his right hand gripping the base steadily and his left hand open, not far from his right hand. With a look of intense concentration, he launched into an attack. --- Jared Vikaul crossed the wall, chasing the prey. Bloody nimble these young'uns gotten nowadays. He had chased until he completely lost sight of the target, and was checking out possible routes he had taken, when he stumbled upon a ruin that seem to lead him backwards. Jared was man who had an innate sense of direction, and he had the bad feeling that he was retracing his steps. Still, this seemed like the most likely path the target would take, unless he suddenly could minimize himself or grow wings. Other routes Jared would have spotted him already, unless he's that fast to escape detection. As he travelled, he heard several screams and bouts of metal clanging against metal interspersed with silence. Judging from the repeated signs of conflict, either his men were getting attacked one after the other or they decided to thin their numbers in the hope of getting a larger share of the bounty. If that's the case he wouldn't be able to further trust them and they'll have to be taken down as well. Jared did not mind further bloodshed, he would not mourn these oafs and he'll be able to get the full bounty, enough to live the sinful life of a luxurious merchant for a while. He stepped out of the building into the open, before recognizing the rubble of a granite fountain, and remembered that this was where he climbed over when in pursuit of the mark earlier. A kind of danger sense struck him, and he turned to his right, spotting figure. It looked like his mark, but was an intense mockery of it. He did not have the chance to observe the man in close proximity and detail, but he remembered enough from their short exchange and from descriptions from his employer to know that the aurora streaks amongst the messy black hair and the pale skin was enough of a distinguishing feature. Vantha. Bloody ninny race only knew how to sing and dance. But unlike the nonchalant demeanour he saw earlier, this one had the savage look of a trained killer. No, not just a trained a killer. One who even enjoys what he's doing. His eyes was hypnotizing in a deranged way, shifting colors every so often, but all the colors had a tinge of red in them. There were several splashes of red across his clothing and the soldier-of-fortune could see a little blood the coated the steel long sword he had out. Jared doubted that his men had survived the encounter, and selfishly hoped that they had all been dispatched, so he did not have to do it himself. Still, there was a small niggling worry that if this creature had dispatched of his men all by himself, he wondered if he was strong enough to take the Vantha down. However, another part of him hoped that it was indeed a solo work and that his men were just incompetent, he did not like complications. The image of his target looked barely human, and more like an insane psychopath. Maybe a feral dog. Or feral monster. Jared could not resist sporting the look of disgust and fear, but he clamped down on most of his emotions. He drew his cutlass, the sharp twang resounding in the ruins around them, and stepped forward to meet the charge. --- Eridanus saw the expression on the bandit's face change, as if he suddenly grew a second head. Not registering it in the heat of the moment, he decided to address the issue maybe sometime later, but not now, where the moment lies in fierce combat. He made a mental note to check if he somehow received a gnosis curse that caused people to fear him. Charging forward, he simultaneously used his left hand to draw and throw the cold-iron blade, then side stepping to the right and bringing the long sword with the full force provided with both hands. The mercenary was not tricked, and used his cutlass to quickly deflect the first and second attacks in succession. The cold-iron blade was deflected with a deafening clang and lodged itself on the ground, looking like a tribute to a warrior's grave. Suddenly, the bandit kicked forward while their blades are lodged, and Eri barely mustered the speed to intercept the kick by kneeing the soft part of the brigand's thigh, essentially dissipating most of the force behind the kick. Jared lept back skilfully, and lunged forward, aiming to spill the Vantha's guts, his form in a leaping crouch. The sudden move backwards was an incentive to Eri to attack, and he edged forward, ready to thrust his steel into his enemy's heart, but the unorthodox attack suddenly struck the very possible fear of dying into him. With a sudden bout of strength granted by this reminder of mortality, he launched himself in a sort of clumsy somersault over the bandit, probably only succeeding because of Jared's crouched, and therefore low, frame. He landed, and rolled further away, not wanting to be disadvantaged while recovering from his surprise manoeuvre. Jared swiped the air in front of him decisively, before realizing that his target was no longer there. He flailed around in a short bout of confusion, then realized the Vantha was behind him, dropping into a roll and already recovering from it. With a roar, he brandished his blade and broke into a dash with his blade held out, intending to sever the recovering Vantha's head quite permanently. Eridanus briefly saw the flash of a blade, and he reflexively planted his long sword into the ground just like he did earlier, perpendicular to the ground. He was just in time as the swish of the cutlass, parallel to the ground, met his sword, him and his sword being dragged backwards due to the momentum granted by Jared's running. He instinctively put his shoes on the flat end of the blade to prevent being gutted by his own sword, and left his sword there, rolling backwards and grasping the handle of the cold-iron blade that was lodged into the ground. He freed the sword, in time to meet the incoming blow, and he countered with swipes of his own, being parried as well. He realized that his weapon had a longer reach than the mercenary, and he had to fully maximize this advantage if he was going to get out of this alive. Unlike the thug, he had already been in several combat situations before and the fatigue was beginning to take its toll on his body. His limbs did not move as fast as he would ideally want them to, and his breathing got more labored as time passed. Eridanus pushed the exchange of blows further forward until he passed by the steel sword he left on the ground, and in a swift motion picked it up with his non-master hand while he cold-iron blade traded thrusts and slashes with the bandit. He upped the ante by swiping in an opposite direction with his second blade, causing the bandit to leap backwards in an attempt to take stock of the situation. Before Jared could consider any alternative solutions, Eridanus threw the steel sword at him in an underhanded throw, lunging forward with his cold-iron blade towards the thug's chest. The bandit parried the blade with some difficulty, but could not swing aroudn to meet the other sword in time. Fortunately for him, the fatigue that was building up in Eridanus' body caused the thrust to be less than ideal, lower to the ground than advised and slanting downwards. This afforded Jared the opportunity to simply stomp down on the blade. It was his luck as well that the flat of the blade happened to be parallel to the ground, and so he performed this move without cutting through his boots. Eridanus had already released his hold on the cold-iron blade, and was rolling towards where the steel one had fallen. What happened next would be comical if not for the life-and-death consequences of the situation. As Jared stomped down on the blade, the released handle was free and, like a lever, swung up to strike his collarbone. He automatically yelped in pain, followed by more swearing, but ultimately this small window proved to his demise as he felt - and saw - inches of steel protruding from his ribcage in front of him. The length of steel grew, and finally he felt the blunt guard touch his back and saw naught by darkness as he felt a blunt blow to his head. Eridanus ran the man through the entire length of the blade, following up with a strike to the head. Using his other hand to steady himself, he viciously swung the blade sideways to free it from the dead flesh, causing a fresh spurt in that direction and partially dismembering the corpse. Breathing heavily, he hobbled over to a low-level debris and supported himself there, his vision beginning to clear from the red shades overlaying his view. He did not know why he did what he did, but somehow the instinct just came to him, like it was normal.

[Eridanus]

There was no rest for the Ethaefal, for upon sitting down the body started twitching, and it pushed itself off the ground, attempting to maintain a steady gait towards Eridanus. Suppressing his disbelief, and his disgust at himself (for the battle-lust that consumed him earlier was threatening to restart its engines again), he tightened his grip on the blade in his arm and stepped forward face this abomination. A chill ran down his spine as the creature gurgled, and laugh, blood pouring out from its mouth as it did so. It's mouth was gaping open, but the words that Eridanus heard next seemed to not come from its vocal cords, but resonated from its entire body. "Well done, youngling." A grim voice boomed. "Wha... Who are you?" It doesn't matter, honestly, and the desire further dismember the corpse proved to be a more attractive option to him compared to this unnatural conversation. "Ahh... I can never get bored at your enthusiasm." The creature raised its arm, as if it was intoning the universal gesture of 'stop', and Eridanus felt his muscles stiffen, his body unable to listen to him. "Now that's better." The voice cackled. Eridanus realized that its eyes was beginning to change color into a milky, chalky white. "Now, I am pretty disappointed at your lack of recognition." It began in mock sadness. "We did contact twice, you know. The first time when I asked you to deliver my package, for a pretty generous sum, if I might say so myself. The second was when I offered you to double-cross me and see if you'd take the bait." Eridanus swore, his hands intending to give an accompanying gesture if not for the fact that they were locked and all he could feel from his body was strictly neck-up. So this Nuit wizard sent him on a mission, hired bandits to kill him to persuade him to find alternatives, offered to double-cross himself, and double-crossed him again here. The insanity of the situation! "if you're going to do that, why not just let me deliver your damn package to Syliras and everything will be solved? How am I supposed to concentrate with your petching mercs threatening to cut my throat at every instance?" The voice chuckled, and replied, "Therein lies the beauty of the situation, youngling. I wanted to test your loyalty despite difficult situations, but it seems that you yielded." The nerve of the creature! It was not like Eri pledged loyalty or anything to that wizard. Whatever that he did he viewed it as a simple business transaction. Money for services. "No problem, however. Your vigor is much commended and loyalty can always be... incentivized. Honestly I did not expect you to get this far. I am pretty glad I planned for this eventuality." By now gravity had caused the corpse's head to loll to one side, its tongue sticking out grotesquely. The Nuit wizard causing this effect did not pay heed, however, and continued as if the corpse was not there. "If you'd care to take a look, the package is merely a meaningless object. The real package I'd care for... is you." It was like electricity zapping the Ethaefal in an uncomfortable manner, as the corpse's dead eyes stared straight into him. There was a clutter and somehow the package dropped out of his pocket, the cloth unravelling automatically in mid-air causing the box it holds to hit the ground, opening up and the item inside clattering forward. It was some sort of assassin's dagger, but the handle seemed to be fashioned out of some kind of bone with a smooth surface. Eridanus swore again. "Ah yes. There are plans for you, youngling. But first, a little something to remind you of the consequences of betrayal..." Eridanus then realized that despite the morning mist beginning to dissipate as the sun rose and the surroundings got warmer, the area around creature maintained as chill as the night as the mist remained. The next thing he knew, he was released from his magical paralysis and turned to escape, but the mist rushed forward, forming a claw-like shape and grasping him by the throat. He felt the life ebb out of him, and then saw only darkness.

[Eridanus]

Far away, a Nuit wizard gave a satisfied cluck as he watch a Vantha lad lose consciousness from the throttling. He made a small gesture with his hands and the mist disappeared, the animated corpse also dropping on the ground with a squelch. "He would be most suitable indeed..." He concluded with an ominous tone.

This concludes the flashback. Whew. What started as a simple hack-and-slash adventurer turned out more sinister than expected! Although it started off slowly, as the story goes I got more warmed up and utilized some interesting plot devices to spice up the encounter. Hope yall enjoyed the ride! There are a few points that I'd like to clarify. Firstly, there is a very real reason behind Eridanus' uncharacteristic behaviour as compared to the present. This will be further explored in similar flashback threads. Secondly, Eridanus in the present despite having suppressed these memories for a reason, still gets flashes of memories in the form of nightmares, and although he can't exactly remember the exact details, his subconscious retains memories of the past and his conscious would also remember it if faced with a suitable trigger. It must be noted that this is a memory and is thus very real, even if Eridanus remembers it via a dream. Third, this nightmare happened here. It is the exact same nightmare/memory that Eridanus woke up from, for those who likes continuity.

[Archelon]

Thread Award "..." And the Results!!!!: Eridanus : SkillName 1-5 How/why? acrobatics 2 running 3 climbing 3 long swords 4 dual-wield 2 unarmed combat 3 Evasion 2 aka- useful in close quarters dodging of attacks XD only. Stealth 3 Observation 3 Tactics 1 Lores: Ruins of Nial(basic) Tactics: Ambush Countertactics Spoils Assassin's Dagger |1| smooth bone handle. some wear is present and the blade needs sharpening-Common steel Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? : Interesting thread! Keep them up... wow this was a long thread to grade X_x