Faebro

# Gambit's Bar, 2011-09-22 19:07:53, as written by Dragon

-And it would be this conjuration of shade that would serve as the portal to the nether, a gateway for which those adept in such practices could manipulate into servitude. Such would come to be as through the veil which entrapped within it the new arrival, A figure would appear as though a manifestation of the shroud itself.

Presently, the form was shapeless, betraying an appearance retaining likeliness to the image of mist and fog. This aimlessly shade writhed within the atmosphere for several moments, increasing in volume without grasping unto any mass. A swift descent landed the sentient shadows upright and a quick contortion, what seemed an instances twitch, shaped it into the form of man.

# The Cold Plains, 2011-09-22 19:19:00, as written by Dragon

-The senses betray the falsities of reality; Because what one may perceive is merely the muddled and obscure version of what has been the absolution of truth prior to the creation of all things...

A shade merely appears a short distance away from the two figures, retaining the facade of a cloaked masculine form. The subtlest of movements guide him closer toward the two individuals and grants him the appearance of hovering.

# Gambit's Bar, 2011-09-22 19:28:14, as written by Dragon

And suddenly the environment becomes lively with the questionable visages of a variety of characters, each possessing hidden intentions and apparent goals, and all together accumulating upon the roof of this structure for reasons which, if contemplated on, would ail the mind with ceaseless aches...

However, to concentrate on this entity in particular, the wraith-like form spawned from conjured shadows, It, as opposed to the apparent He, would seemingly glide forth across the expanse which separated itself from the convergence of furniture which attracted his eye, and as such, his form. It seated itself before an empty table, settling upon the worn material which comprised a sturdy chair, and expounded in a decibel that would harass the ears of those within his vicinity a deafening silence.

# Gambit's Bar, 2011-09-22 19:43:31, as written by Dragon

The form serving as the Avatar to Gula itself was within the room, it's abominable appearance visible for any and all to witness whether through the allure of curiosity, or from sheer disgust beckoning one's vision to confirm and justify any automated physical retorts that were likely to transpire... To the lone shade, It was beautiful.

A tome were produced from the confines of this form's apparel and languidly removed from it, the literary composition relinquishing the grasping sinews of shade which the form's cloak appeared to be weaved from, before gently placing it lightly upon the table immediately antecedent of it. A gloved hand readjusted the positioning of the book once, twice... an exaggerated third time before settling as it were prior to the gesture.

Slowly lifting a sole digit upward in the general direction of Gluttony itself, a slow retraction of the finger invited the grotesque monstrosity closer.

# The Cold Plains, 2011-09-22 19:47:11, as written by Dragon

"You most possibly could... Though, whether you would willingly consent to is another story altogether. However, I am not completely in doubt of you and so go wondering... Please, do tell me the title of which you are addressed." The smooth and deep voice which the shade relinquished was seemed comprised of the lushes silks and pure velvet, both alluring and comforting, yet undeniably laced with something... dark.

# The Cold Plains, 2011-09-22 20:04:28, as written by Dragon

"Indeed, though what I perceive, you could never. in this place, there is information, as there is such within all things that exist and things that do not; things of the physical and metaphysical, and things of dreams and nightmares; Things of the divine, and things of the shade; Yes, all possess this... that which I am ever seeking... That which has lead me, irrefutably, here and, undeniably, to you..." A pause were taken as the figure ceased his approach, a fair distance away from the two as not to appear invading of anyone's personal barrier, yet close enough to converse freely and with ease.

"-So, Prince, Tell me... What is your purpose here?"

# Gambit's Bar, 2011-09-22 20:09:00, as written by Dragon

"Oh- I am almost disappointed to accept such knowledge, especially from the likes of you. Hadn't anyone ever informed you to expect the unexpected? Though, to attempt to foresee that which is ever changing, and as such, completely unknown, would serve a futile effort... Regardless, such contrivances are better left to the whims of mortals and those susceptible to their mortality, afraid to blindly encounter and embrace the bitter morrow." As the lengthy articulation ceased, the shrouded figure gestured toward the seat opposite of his own, positioned on the other side of the table, indicating it would rather have this form sitting comfortably.

"Please, Sit, Stay awhile." The kind offer, however innocent it may have appeared, held laced within those few words something demanding as if offered from the lips of a fallen emperor to it's subjects whom no longer acknowledge his existence.

# The Cold Plains, 2011-09-22 20:17:30, as written by Dragon

"Interesting..." The shade remained unmoving, seemingly statuesque in appearance save for the subtle movements his apparel exhibited under the almost unnoticeable influence of an incoming breeze.

"Yet, you have not answered my question. That is your reason for being here, in this place... I wish to know what is your purpose, Here." And with that, the figure produced an appendage from his exaggerated robes and gestured a single digit toward the hearth.

"At the end of your Journey, when your bones have withered into dust, your blood relinquished to the planet which birthed you, what is it that you will have accomplished, that had propelled you thus far?"

# Gambit's Bar, 2011-09-22 20:28:43, as written by Dragon

"Me? I am as I appear, nothing more, nothing less. A broken and forgotten husk, cast headlong into the depths of a hellish abyss, into the viscera of suffering without end, without hope of tomorrow, and forced further into descent beyond it's bowels... I am what I have created, and what I have destroyed; What was, and if it may be, what will be again. You may address me as Faebro." The introduction, albeit cryptic and lacking reason, would suffice for now as truth, for that is exactly what was spoken. A past, a present, and the telling of a future paraphrased as to avoid lengthy and drawn out explanation, as well as to keep from divulging too much information. There are those who would, after coming to know his identity, see to it that his goals perish before coming to fruition.

# The Cold Plains, 2011-09-22 20:34:26, as written by Dragon

"...Wherefore do ye toil; is it not that ye may live and be happy? And if ye toil only that ye may toil more, when shall happiness find you? Ye toil to live, but is not life made of beauty and song? ... Toil without song is like a weary journey without an end. Were not death more pleasing...?" The spoken words which were offered seemed addressed to the male before him, but the manner of speaking, the nonchalant and languid deliverance of his cryptic inquiries were left unbound by a specific being intended to hear it. The form began to writhe slightly before turning away from the two...

"Prince Israphel, this was not a chance meeting between you and I, and it will not be the last. We'll be in touch..." And with that, the form began his departure elsewhere, fading into the distance...

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-22 22:43:38, as written by Dragon

"That is not dead which can eternal lie... And with strange aeons even death may die." The short verse was solemnly spoken in an utterance just above a whisper, and yet the mere murmur would carry forward, denied not by the expanse which presented itself between himself and the two individuals playing cat and mouse. To acknowledge the voice was one thing, to pinpoint it's origin was something else entirely, although if caught in hiatus, having opted seek whom had cast those few words, those that would wait wouldn't have to for long.

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-22 23:02:33, as written by Dragon

The wraith-like visage of a figure shrouded in a tapestry of cloaks soon presented itself to the pair, revealed as shade spilling over the roots of the nearby trees entrenched in the hearth and grasping out to the appendages of the knee high bushes spread about. Beneath the hood, only a vast darkness remained, appearing every much the abyss the depths of the inferno would be.

"It would appear that in my stroll through the woods, I've encountered a couple enjoying the tranquil serenity of the forest and the loving moon's radiance. My apologies for any manner of intrusion." There was something amiss in the figure's kind articulation, as if beneath the innocent contrivances was a mocking sarcasm which, to the perceptive, betrayed his knowledge of the situation at hand.

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-22 23:28:15, as written by Dragon

Disregarding the pun presented by the male construct, the cloaked form approached a step closer, testing the apprehension present within him. To the eyes cast toward him, the celestial energies which were ever present around his form would fluctuate about his being- His frame which remained void of any energy whatsoever. It would seem that the shade around him possessed all the arcane talent and beneath it all was merely the frame of some humanoid figure, frail and sickly looking.

"To all of your inquiries, I retort with but one of my own... Sacha Inkson, what is your purpose here?"

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-22 23:42:58, as written by Dragon

"So defensive. I suppose it is the natural reaction of all things whom can perceived their imminent mortality. How do I know your name? I can perceive it, as I can the things you cannot; Things that exist and things that do not; Of the shade and of the divine; Of dreams and of nightmares. I'm quite perceptive as you can likely gather." Another step were taken forward just as Ava began to withdraw from the scene, her fear exciting the sentient shade which wound about this figure's form. A ghastly squeal could be heard escaping from the writhing apparel.

"I assure you, I am in no position to be engaging in any conflicts; I am simply an observer for now."

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-22 23:58:32, as written by Dragon

The male would be hard pressed in presenting his witter banter under such pressure for as he turned his back away from the shrouded form, the shroud itself would rip from the frame and lunge forward, clearing the distance between it and Sacha with great speed. The mass flung madly, an amalgam of chaotic movement which made it hard to discern how exactly to evade it. If it had it's way, the writhing tendrils which the shroud seemed weaved from would capture his form in any way; Constricting an arm or leg- really anything it could grab.

The frame however, revealed to be simply a figure with purple flesh seemingly devoid of any characteristic features, merely collapsed to the earth, unable to support itself.

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-22 23:58:38, as written by Dragon

witty*

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-23 00:16:40, as written by Dragon

The first of the male's abilities would be put in effect, effectively dampening the magic of others within his vicinity. This it done well, for as the lithe and fragile frame attempted to rise using what little of it's prowess it could, it immediately dropped back to the ground, collapsing as it had before. The ability wouldn't work as well on the encroaching shade, much to Sacha's dismay, for it seemed entirely unaffected.

The second ability cast right after the first would then come into play, rejecting offensive spells. His deduction was logical, but flawed. It was hard to defend against an unknown enemy with only partial knowledge of them. Reject being cast, the initial wave of darkness seemed hindered. However, careening about the stupefied mass, the darkness continued. Serpentine appendages wormed ever closer and meant to grab for the legs.

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-23 00:34:09, as written by Dragon

With this influx of power, the darkness multiplied in volume, enlarging substantially. The tendrils then whipped outward, grasping his right thigh, his right forearm, and left upper arm. Sacha's left calf had already been grabbed. More and more of his mana was being leeched from him, and now he were without a proper means of escape.

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-23 00:35:39, as written by Dragon

And it was with his final ability that his fate had been sealed, it being his own undoing. As the tendrils had just grasped hold of the figure's leg, Sacha would unleash his flare spell, increasing his strength and speed as he done so. Neither were the cause. It was the tsunami wave of power which would have engulfed the area, but being in physical contact with the sentient shade, the majority of this unleashed power had been consumed.

"Don't worry Sacha Inkson, you won't lose your life this night."

# The Hidden Glen, 2011-09-23 00:47:57, as written by Dragon

Indeed, Sacha was adept in his hereditary ability of leeching mana. It was with this that he would begin to absorb the mana that was stolen from him. However, what Sacha didn't know was that it wasn't his mana that this parasite was after. Allowing the male to fall into a false sense of security, taking back what was taken from him, the darkness' next actions would be surprising.

Small fangs would protrude from the tendrils where the male was constricted, puncturing through calloused flesh and beckoning forth Sacha's sanguine plasma. Though his mana was returning, it was doubtful that he would be able to leech back his own blood. Given enough time, this shade would drink him dry but that was not it's intention. Instead, a fair amount were pilfered, which would leave Sacha light headed and fatigued.

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by RolePlayGateway

Last seen at: The Hidden Glen

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