Post by Ammy on Apr 3, 2008 16:19:28 GMT -5
Prologue
The musty air was thick with the heavy smell of death and blood.
…Particularly the blood.
Effluo Eiectio, loosely translated as “Forgotten Exile”, was standing over the severed remains of the Undead, her broad scythe thick and dripping with the blood that was now spattered on her Dervish clothes and the ground.
“More that knew NOTHING about Varesh…” She cursed under her breath, walking away from the bloody scene. She was caught in a misty swamp, though she never cared nor bothered to learn the name.
Under her pitch black hood was actually a beautiful woman. Her eyes were a dark sky blue, her eyebrows were a rich brown with her hair, and her facial features gave off her age of about nineteen, possibly twenty.
Effluo’s hair was very wavy, caught into a high ponytail and was a lovely rich brown. She never removed her hood within the general public and when she did, she was in complete solitude.
…With the exception of a few monsters.
Failing in her interrogation mission, she placed her hood back over her head, beginning to walk back to Kamadan, Jewel of Istan.
However, she hoped that she could get back to the city after sundown so all the gawkers would be asleep or gone.
Chapter One
As Effluo entered Kamadan with her hood in place and scythe slung over her back, she caught the eyes of one or two on-lookers, civilians, and heroes.
She was well known throughout Istan, some stories the civilians told were heroic and taught their children a lesson; some stories heroes told were of Demons and that Effluo was helping Varesh in the war.
However, the main reason she caught the eyes of on-lookers and gawkers, was because of her Dervish clothes. They were not typical war clothes and were extremely rare.
The skirt was cut just below her bellybutton, with six Demon bones down the front. The top was cut at least an inch below her breasts with no sleeves. All were embroidered with silver thread, including her hood.
Effluo also never bore the cloak of a Guild. Nobody knew anything about her. Many civilians began to wonder if she was a Corsair in disguise and wondered why she was a General in the war.
Walking through Kamadan, she had zero memories of the city or even of the entire land, other than her training with Varesh Ossa when she was a child. Varesh betrayed Istan. She started summoning Demons all over Istan, betraying her word as a Mystic Dervish.
As she walked through the districts, she was stopped nearby the Storage, in a well open area, which was possibly why she was stopped here specifically. Who stopped her was what looked like to her, a newly recruited Warrior.
What does this pest want? If it’s a battle he desires, it’s not much of a challenge to me… She thought, being heavily agitated by these minor annoyances.
He finally spoke to her in a low, gruff voice. Although, from the battle stance he was in told her that he was young, possibly fifteen. “Hey, you! Yeah, the Dervish in black!” He pointed a fat finger at her. “Why are all these civilians and heroes afraid of you, huh?” He laughed when she didn’t respond. “So, the supposedly general has nothing to say? Fine!”
The Warrior drew his sword and charged at her, which only increased her agitation with him to begin with.
Oh, please… This is such an annoyance…
Effluo sighed and held out her hand towards the Warrior, freezing him in his tracks with a minor Grenth spell the God used commonly. With him frozen in place, she used her Wind Prayers to move swiftly and reappear behind him, with her scythe drawn and the black blade stained a crimson red.
She sheathed her scythe again, smirking as the Warrior screamed in pain. She glanced back for a split moment, watching the deep wound she sliced in his upper shoulder bleed onto the street.
“So much to learn… So little patience…” Sighing, she deposited her money into the storage, and then began to leave Kamadan, shoving her way through the crowd and Monks healing the Warrior.
Chapter Two
Dante Salvatore couldn’t believe what he just saw. And he wasn’t an Elementalist that got struck stupid very often. Glancing at the Warrior’s wound, it was very deep and the street was already a crimson red underneath him.
Wind Prayers… That has to be it, I’ve never seen a Dervish move that fast before. He thought. But then again… She is a general in the war; she has to be a very high level to do that… And she just left him, bleeding…
Thank Dwayna there was a Monk near-by. He’s never seen so many people awe-struck before.
Dante got poked in the side, and then shoved when he didn’t respond to the poke. And he vaguely realized that he got shoved a second time. When all three attempts failed to revive him of his trance, he got pounced on by a Panther named Raoi.
Looking up, he realized he was being stared at worryingly by his other travel companions.
“Sorry, guys… Got a little distracted.” Dante said monotonously, but kept his emerald eyes on the Warrior. He moved his deep-brown hair out of his face, than stood up to brush the dirt off of his light blue and white clothing.
He stood, staring at his childhood companions and traveling companions ever since they became soldiers and started questing together.
Lothar Ward was one hell of a Warrior. He was sprouting grey hair, though he chose to dye it that way. Lothar preferred to carry a two-handed broadsword. With his gold and silver Gladiator armor, he looked beastly with all his muscles.
Darren Rhast and Raoi were great companions to each other. Darren, a Ranger, found the panther when he was only a kit and separated from his mother. Darren was wearing brown and green leather armor and a tattered mask. He used a bone recurve bow for a weapon. His deep red hair seemed to gleam in the sun and his grey eyes looked out of place.
Marth the Light was a worthy Monk and he earned his name well. He was excellent in battle and well skilled with healing. Whenever they were in a battle, he was always there, ready to heal the slightest wound. He had no hair, as did most Monks, and had a dragon design on his head. He was also wearing white and bright blue Monk clothing that he just recently received.
Just barely noticing he was staring at the ground, he got shook on the shoulder by Marth. “Dante? Dante! Are you okay?” The young Monk’s voice was filled with worry and concern.
Glancing around, Dante realized Raoi was rubbing against his hand, purring. “Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s go.”
He followed behind the group, listening to their laughs and jokes. He started to wonder if any of the others noticed the Dervish and the Warrior’s miniature battle in the middle of the whole city.
