RP Academy - Zee All Knowing Peacock and Azmodai2

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Fri May 04, 2007 1:52 am

Hola! It is my pleasure to be your Tutor and I hope this will be an experience to benefit us both. I will be using the same format as Lord Saladin, by evaluating each post you make after you have made it. I will have the first post ready for us to begin by tomorrow afternoon, US time.

RP Academy Tutor
~ Azmodai2

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Sat May 05, 2007 1:00 am

Dark clouds flew over the torn and broken cityscape. Lightning streaked across the sky, jumping from one shadowed cloud to the next as thunder let off low rumbles in the distance. Gothic buildings lay ruined and dilapidated, the stormy sky adding a somber and grim look to the whole area. Some were tall, cathedral like structures, adorned with once-beautiful stained glass windows, elegant gargoyles and huge arches. The sky began to swirl and the lightning began to flash more frequently, jumping in arcs and forks around a tornado like protrusion forming in the clouds.

A figure looked up at the sky from a small, ruined stone building in the heart of the dead city. He was garbed in a dark, black cloak, with a hood that covered his face. The outline of his face could barely be seen inside the recesses of his hood, but his hazel-green eyes gleamed out from the shadows. He watched the sky with interest, his curiosity inflamed. This had happened once before and a stranger had comeâ€¦ perhaps again?

Lightning streaked down now from the sky, impacting the ground, perhaps 500 ft from the cloaked figure. As it hit the ground sizzled and burned, the dirt superheated to become glass, smooth and gleaming brighter with every strike. The figure rose and walked calmly out of his shelter, striding towards the now charred and glassed spot the lightning had struck.

A figure lay in the center of the blacked glass bowl crater. The figure approached slowly, his hands still under his cloak, he was wary but unafraid. Yes, another stranger, and if he could go by precious events then this one would be lacking a memory also. He kneeled at the edge of the crater and looked the figure over, noting its appearance and several small cuts on its body. He rubebd his chin and sat back, waiting for the stranger to awake.

Zee All Knowing Peacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zee All Knowing Peacock** on Mon May 07, 2007 2:07 pm

Colors swirled in front of his eyes, dancing majestically and blocking his vision. His head pounded, his ears rang. Pain racked his body in searing waves, tearing through his body, spreading like wildfire. He felt drops hitting him, like acid, each small tear burning his skin. He wanted to scream, but he could not inhale nor exhale. He opened his mouth, his lips splitting and bleeding from lack of use.

His throat burned, his bones ached. He tried to roll over onto his back, but his muscles were too weak. He felt a low moan escape him, the sound causing pain to shoot through his chest. He coughed, and felt hot blood spill into his mouth. The salty taste did not help the pain in his mouth, where the skin of his cheeks was drawn so tight that he couldn't open it more than half way. He tried to open his eyes, but they were so thickly crusted as to stop him.

His fingers moved, then his arm was slowly drawn up to his face. Each movement sent a new burst of pain shooting through him, racking his body. His stomach clenched and vomit moved into his mouth, poured onto the ground next to his head. He continued to move his hands up, until he reached his eyes. His fingers deftly worked at getting them open, and when he did he felt the outside light sear his eyes, causing him to quickly shut them.

As the ringing in his ears resided he heard footsteps behind him, and he slowly opened his eyes. The light brought tears to his eyes, but he struggled to keep them open. When they were finally adjusted, he worked on rolling onto his stomach. He heard the footsteps stop behind him stop, and felt the eyes piercing into through his back. With a final surge he swung himself onto his stomach, then lay there, not possessing the strength to push himself up.

He lay waiting, his naked, exposed body lying in the mud of a massive crater, charred remains around him, the rain pounding his back. He awaited death, though for some reason he knew it wouldn't come. He had no memories, no recollection of where he had been before this, but he knew that he would live on, as this was not his time. This newcomer, he radiated a sense of safety, of reliability. His face twitched into what he knew was a smile.

This was not his time...

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Mon May 07, 2007 10:56 pm

Alright, in my opinion that was an excellent post. Your conventions were well executed and your spelling was NEAR perfect. Very descriptive which I like, and you kept in the same tense the entire time. The only negative comments I have on this entire post are your use of the word racking and the phrase "He heard the footsteps stop behind him stop,". Check your homophones, as I believe the word you were searching for is wracking. Since you are quite obviously beyond the basics of RPing I will begin to stress the small things.

The figure moved closer, sliding down the smooth edge of the crater. He stopped about two feet from the figure, looking him over again, this time taking in the wounds more clearly. He was in bad shape, with cuts along his back, clearly bruised chest and battered body in general. He let his hands come out of the folds of his cloak, they were ornately tattooed, with swirling patterns and designs over them. He rolled up his sleeves and crouched closer. The tattoo design seemed to continue up his arms and into the folds of his cloak.

He leaned in closer and rubbed his chin before letting his hands come to a rest on the man's back. He let out a sight and closed his eyes, concentrating deeply. There was a surge of power into his hands and the tattoos changed, becoming veined with a faint yellow light. After a sharp intake of breath he withdrew his hands and mused over his work. The man's wounds began to close and heal slowly, the caked blood running off the man's side into a muddy puddle as the rain began to pool in the crater.

He gently turned the man over, looking over his now mostly healed chest. He glanced at the man's face and nodded in satisfaction to himself. Color had returned to his checks and the once dry and split lips were healed. He could tell the man was obviously weak but this infusion of energy should have bolstered his strength a little. "Can you walk? It is not safe to wander among the buildings this late at night." He lifted the man to a sitting a position.

Zee All Knowing Peacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zee All Knowing Peacock** on Tue May 08, 2007 7:38 pm

Thanks for the compliments, but just so you know, my posts will probably only go downhill from here, as I gave an overzealous amount of concentration in my first post.

He felt the guiding hands rest on him, then felt the force moving through his body, skimming over his wounds, then feeling those wounds slowly squeeze, the bleeding stopping. He then felt the hands slowly push him upright, the world spinning around him. When he stopped moving he felt his head pounding, his stomach clenching against more waves of nausea. He tried to catch his breath, slowly inhaling and exhaling.

"Can you walk? It is not safe to wander among the buildings this late at night." The words pounded into his head, causing ringing in his ears. He understood the words, which surprised even him. He nodded slowly, struggling to fight back against another heave of vomit. He felt his own healing powers slowly spreading through his body, fixing his muscles with new waves of vigorous energy. He coughed, but this time no blood came up, but still his head rang with each burst.

He waited a moment, the rain still pounding the back of his head and neck. His amber eyes stared down at his withered muscles, his wrinkled skin, and his deep tanned flesh. Long strands of silver hair hung down around his face, mud clinging to the fine ends. He watched as new life flooded his veins, life not seen for aeons. He felt renewed energy, and slowly flexed his muscles. His arms moved underneath him, and he tried to push himself up. His muscles slowly did the job, and he felt the aiding hands of the stranger.

When he was finally on his feet he looked around. Decayed archaic buildings were scattered all around, and lightning flashed overhead, spearing the skies with beams of burning light.

He tried to speak but when he did his voice cracked, the dried throat splitting from unuse. He slowly let saliva build up, then tried again. "What is your name?" he croaked, his tongue opening uo and blood spilling into his mouth. He spoke again. "Where are we?" he asked, his voice growing more steady. He looked to the stranger, the strange amber eyes reflecting each flash of lightning.

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Thu May 10, 2007 11:26 pm

Excellent post, you included everything I did which is good. If you can keep all your posts at at least this quality you'll be set.

The cloaked figure supported the man as he tried to stand. He weighed almost nothing and to hold him was effortless. He looked up at the sky to see the swirling vortex that engulfed the clouds subside, leaving only the dark, stormy heavens that had existed for eons over this city. He turned his attention back to the stranger. "Welcome to Feldarrow. Now, come, I will lead you to my home." He slide an arm around the man and began to help him hobble through the dank and musty streets. Cracked and destroyed blocks of masonry littered the ruined walkways and the occasional skittering pebble or shifting stone set the figure on guard. His hand withdrew into the folds of his cloak and a click issued from inside.

As he walked he said to the man, "I am a Castellan of this city and for now that is all you need to know. We will make camp at my home inside the city and at daybreak we will make for my headquarters. As I said it is dangerous at night, and especially when you are alone." He kept walking the man, occasionally ducking inside buildings or holding them still for minutes at a time. His eyes were constantly searching the darkness for any signs.

He stopped at dilapidated shack and pulled the stranger inside. "We will rest here for the moment. You must have many questions, and they will be answered in time." He let his hood down, revealing a man of about 30, slightly gaunt, with angular features, hazel-green eyes and short black hair. "As I said you may call me Castellan. Do you have a name that you can remember? Do you know where you came from?" He leaned forward and let his hands move out of his cloak, one was holding a small dagger, the other a strange pistol of some sort. It was large and clearly technologically advanced. He looked up at the man searching his eyes.

Zee All Knowing Peacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zee All Knowing Peacock** on Sun May 13, 2007 3:09 pm

He shook his head. The walk had taken his strength, had ripped it brutally from his muscles. He felt himself begin to tremble, at first lightly, then growing in strength, until he could almost not see straight. He fell to the floor, his knees underneath him, and waited for the shaking to pass.

He looked around the house, the sparse furnishings, the rustic feel of the building, and the crumbling materials uesd to build it. The floor was stained in numerous places, and the entire house was freezing. Water slowly dripped off of him, rolled of his skin to patter the floor. He looked to the man, who had drawn back his hood now. He held two items in his hands, one pointed iron, the other, different. He felt his heartbeat quicken as he looked upon the second weapon.

His eyes slowly locked on those of Castellan. "All I remember," he said, his voice a hoarse croak, "is fire. Terrible, burning fire. It was all around me, tearing at my skin. Then a blinding light, and now here. What should I be named, Castellan?"

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Tue May 15, 2007 11:47 pm

Alright, first mediocre post. Your grammar and conventions were quite fine, no problems there. The big problem with this post was lack of detail. As a personal standard I strive to make my posts at least 350 words or more. Since this is practice I would like you to keep to a 200 word minimum from now on. In case youâ€˜re wondering about the setting, Iâ€˜m going to continue to throw in changing themes to test your ability to adapt.

The Castellan nodded and stared at the stranger silently for a moment before setting his knife and pistol down on a large stone to his left. He leaned forward and lit a small fire with a hand lighter. He looked back up the man, their faces now both illuminated by the small flickering flame that served to warm and brighten the small space around it. He drew his sleeves up, revealing his tattooed arms again and leaned on his knees.

â€œMmmm, fire you say? A burning sensationâ€¦ I do not claim to understand what has befallen you, only that it has happened before under similar circumstances to another individual. As for your name feel free to suggest something yourself, I can continue to call you stranger but that will not be very effective once we reach more populous quarters. If you are anything like the last â€˜strangerâ€™ than you will certainly make a name for yourself regardless.â€

Zee All Knowing Peacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zee All Knowing Peacock** on Wed May 16, 2007 3:58 pm

I know, I'm really not that great, I just give the illusion I am.

The man smiled. "Stranger," he said, "I like that. You may call me stranger." He knelt and reached for the knife. His hand gripped the ebony handle, felt the smooth grooves of the hilt, the worn feel of the hold, and the balanced weight in his hands. The silver blade gleamed brightly in the dim candlelight, intricate patterns dancing along it, tracing along the wicked edge of the deadly metal. For some reason the knife felt so natural in his hands, so... right.

He looked up at the man, feeling new energy flowing from the shimmering metal in his hands up into his arms, and through his body. He smiled, his lips twisting backwards, the ghostly grin pasted on his deathly white face. Then he reached for the food, lifted it to his mouth, and took a bite. It was dry and salty, not helping his thirst in any way. He swallowed, the food pushing barely through his shrivelled esophagus.

When it was down and he was sure it would stay like that, he slowly turned to look out across the ruined city. Rain slashed across the windswept city, a torrential downpour battering the city from the heavens.

"So," spoke Stranger, "When do we leave?"

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Thu May 17, 2007 9:16 pm

Better, very good descriptive vocabulary, which I love, conventions were fine, what surprises me is that while your descriptive vocabulary is excellent you don't seem to be able to find much to describe. Think about not only your setting and equipment, but also about your emotions, your thought process, your reactions. Include these things to enhance the personality of your post.

He smiled lightly at Stranger, nodding a little, "So you wish to keep Stranger? That is acceptable for now. However, when we reach the headquarters you will need to assume a more distinct name. Have you handled a knife before? The blade seems comfortable in your hands." He stared at the man's hands as he handled the knife, noting the ease at which he held it. "You may keep that blade should we ever part company, but think carefully before you use it. It contains some measure of power and is by no means a simple weapon, however I do not think you will ever have need of it, at least not while I am around." The Castellan took a small flask from inside his robe and tossed it to Stranger. "Drink, it will soothe your cracked throat." The Castellan peered down at the fire, watching its myriad forms morph and change in the light wind, sparks shooting out of the small fire and into the dark night. The fires form seemed to dance for them, casting strange and distorted shadows about the ruined building, illuminating their faces and casting an eerie glow about them.

The Castellan smiled and stood. "Now we must leave, we must reach the headquarters within the hour, before they lock us out." He offered his hand to Stranger and bade him rose. As he pulled him off the ground he turned to face the exit of the room. He strode to the opening and glanced outside, checking the shadows for movement... there. "Come here, let me show you something." He pulled Stranger over and pointed towards a thinly defined form in one of the shadows of a building. "A Night Stalker, they prowl the streets after dark, hunting unsuspecting prey, they are enormous wolves of bone and shadow. They will not bother us however, they fear Castellans." He smiled and tucked his hands into his robe, there was a light growl from the direction of the Stalker and the form could be seen sneaking off.

Zee All Knowing Peacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zee All Knowing Peacock** on Sat May 19, 2007 1:42 pm

His heart skipped a beat when he heard the wolf. It had triggered something in him; not exactly fear, but a deeper, more primal emotion, something brodering unfiltered malice. His hand clenched, gripping the blade of the knife tighter. His eyes focused sharper, taking in more light. His other senses heightened as well as adrenaline surged through his body. His ears atuned, as the raindrops became increasingly loud, he could smell the musty earth beneath the cobblestones underneath them as they continued on walking.

His feet dragged beneath him, as he slowly came to a stop. Stranger slowly looked around at the ruinous buildings around them, the hardened cobbles beneath him. He felt this well of feelings inside of him, this terrible churning in him that brought about this sense of yearning, this sense of terrible ambiguous inquietude. His amber eyes seemed to have lightened, a fiery burning held in them, as they slowly afixed to Castellan's back, who stood a few paces ahead.

He looked at the man standing in front of him, and felt a deep rage burning inside of him. As the rain lashed down from the heavens, whipping against his naked body, stinging the still fresh wounds. Wind whipped his hair against his face, causing it to cling to his face, whipping into his eyes. "What are we doing here?" asked Stranger, feeling his eyes boring into the back of Castellan's back. "What do you want with me?" he continued. He felt a deep exasperation growing inside him, looking at this man's back, who he had met mere minutes ago, and now was trusting his life into his hands.

He turned his gaze past the man, looking into the abysmal darkness into which they were heading. He felt his hands began to warm, then sweat as they became hotter and hotter. "Where did I come from? What am I doing? What do you want with me?" the questions were all asked with a terrible coldness, a burning calm that perturbed even him. He felt something begin to unhinge inside of him, to slowly come to the forefront of his mind, ready to be unleashed at any moment. He held so many more questions inside of him, but knew they must wait a moment longer, and this truth made him even angrier. He waited...

This was not his time...

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Sat May 19, 2007 9:53 pm

Good post, good descriptive text, lots of emotion, I like. Excellent conventions and vocabulary. Itâ€˜s good to see your word count back up. For now letâ€˜s not stir any specific conflict as the RPA is more about character development than fighting.

The Castellan turned to look at the Stranger, his face had become stern and he peered at the man, his eyes growing in hysteria. â€œCalm yourself, I did not call you here, nor did I have any wish for you to stumble upon this world. I donâ€™t know why you were brought here or under what circumstances, only that I can guide you, help you learn and if at all possible, survive here. If you continue to shout and yell you will attract the attention of far worse things than the Night Stalkers. So be quiet, we are leaving this place anyway.â€

Zee All Knowing Peacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zee All Knowing Peacock** on Sat May 19, 2007 10:24 pm

His temper slowly cooled, what he was feeling inside slowly fading to a dull throbbing sense of bitter remorse. He slowly followed after Castellan, only a short step behind. What he felt inside him was a slow burning, slowly spreading from his stomach throughout the rest of his body. Like a cancer it moved, burning into him, filling him with this terrible feeling inside of him, one that he could not think of the word for it. He had blamed this man, this man who was the only person who he could count on, the only person who he could trust. He felt the rain lighten around them, the storm changing from something harsh and angry to something gentle, strangely staid. He felt himself begin to tremble as he slowly released what was inside of him, he slowly let what he ahd been containing out, taking deep breaths to quell the animosity within him.

He looked up to see Castellan a few paces ahead. He increased his pace in order to catch up with him, this simple action taking his breath away. While his body had been steadily regaining it's strength, his muscles becoming more toned, and his shape becoming more trim, he was still sore from his experience, still aching all over. He moved up beside him and once again slowed his pace. He turned to look over at Castellan, his amber eyes drinking the man in. Those same eyes had changed their color from what they had been not five minutes ago. They had moved to a deeper shade, had become more sombre.

"I am sorry," said Stranger, his voice emphatic, "for my reaction earlier. It is just, I am plagued by questions, and the desire for answers is stronger than anything else I have ever experienced. I feel as if there is a void within me, and I cannot see into it. I feel that my past is what should fill that void." He stared ahead into the darkness, his mind racing for a way to explain this feeling he had. "It must sound ludicrous to you, but I cannot explain it. I know it is important, very important, but I just can't seem to place it." He sighed, the sound long and drawn out. His gaze shifted back to Castellan. He looked at the man, searching for some hint as to the man's disposition.

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Sun May 20, 2007 11:20 pm

Good post. Conventions were fine, good descriptive text, good word count. My only thing is you used the word 'slowly' at least four times in the first paragraph, which makes it seem overused. My recommendation is to hit up a thesaurus or thesaurus.com and get a synonym for any word you need to use repeadetly.

The Castellan listened to the man speaking as they walked. He noted each of his words, taking them into account. Yes, many of the things this Stranger said were true, and his emotional response to the situation at hand was understandable. The Castellan mused for a moment as they paused on the far side of the street to catch their breath. “Your reaction is understandable, but I ask yout o remain calm, we are close but this area is far more dangerous than the rest of the city. The Felguard stalk this area.” He quietly slipped along the edge of a wall with the Stranger in tow, watching his every step so as not to disturb anything or create any unnecessary sound.

He led the Stranger past dark towering cathedrals, the hallmark of this sector of the city. Some were dimly lit inside and the lights seemed to flicker, indicating candles. Shadows passed through dark corridors inside these ancient and malice filled buildings, their towering reaches harboring unseen beasts of the most terrible kind. These were the masters of the common monsters that stalked the streets of the city, they were far more intelligent and far more deadly than any best one would find commonly. The Castellans referred tot his place as the Black Cathedral, in reference to the many gothic churches formerly dedicated to the powers of light.

They headed past a small church on their left and down an alley formed by two large buildings, they came to a dead end. The Castellan smiled and whistled once. There was a return whistle and the Castellan clicked his tongue. A few seconds later the wall they were facing began to recede brick by brick into the darkness behind it, forming the ominous entrance of a tunnel. The Castellan motioned for the Stranger to follow him, and he strode into the darkness of the tunnel.

Zee All Knowing Peacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zee All Knowing Peacock** on Mon May 21, 2007 9:41 am

Oops, sorry, I didn't even see that. I always keep a thesaurus and dictionary beside my computer for reference, but I didn't have time to proofread, so it went unnoticed. I'll try to always proofread now.

Stranger's narrowed eyes slowly scanned the surrounding churches, which lay sprawled and ruined around them. As he stared on at the decrepit houses of worship though, he felt a strange sense of shame, mixed with a welling sense of culpability. He felt his mind wander as he followed Castellan, his feet pressing lightly against the wet and slick cobblestones. He noticed the rain had lightened slightly, its deadly lashing dying to a gentle patter. His mind was thinking back, to different times...

He was standing atop a building, wearing robes of crimson and black. A man approached him from behind, wearing identical robes. The man was short and portly, with a shaved head and very pale skin. He was a stark contrast to Stranger's deeply hued complexion, and his towering physique. Stranger's fiery crimson eyes looked down at the city below, the beautiful buildings, and the sun shining down upon them. The man behind him said something. Stranger nodded in response, and the two turned. The language was similar to that Castellan spoke, though strangely different, changed.

The two men moved to a trapdoor in the flat roof, and opened it up. They climbed down a ladder, into a small room, which was lavishly furnished with decorative rugs and various lamps. A dresser stood to the far side, beside a small cot. In an alcove on the far side of the room, there was a window, and a rope hanging down. Stranger walked over to it, slowly pulled it. A bell rang, its joyous ringing pealing out above the city. Stranger felt comforted by this and he smiled. He felt the bell in his ears, laying like a cool blanket over his troubled thoughts.

"Well, Harkin," said the man behind him, "I have other matters to attend to. You must report to the Great Hall for dusk. Do not be tardy." The man turned then, and walked through a thick oaken door. The bell continued its jubilant chiming, and Stranger walked to the window. He looked out upon churches, which surrounded the building he was in. Far beyond various other buildings lay. The man named Harkin lay on the bed then, his head resting against the pillow. His expression turned dour as the bells slowly stopped, as if he was uncomfortable with something. He sat up at a knock on his door...

Stranger snapped out of his reverie as the reached the wall. Castellan spoke in low whistles and clicks, Stranger taking note. When the wall was unassembled, the two waved in, Stranger looked around at the tunnel. There was even less light here, and Stranger's eyes slowly adjusted. He could see barely in here, just enough to see the brick walls, covered with slime and water, and the dirt beneath their feet. He couldn't be sure, but it felt as if they were moving downhill.

He looked to Castellan. "Remember when you said I need a new name?" asked Stranger, "Well, it is Harkin..." He looked at Castellan as he felt a shiver run through him, as if that was a name he shouldn't have. He felt he wouldn't be surprised if Castellan turned to attack him now. There was a history behind that name, and he felt it wasn't a good one...

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Mon May 21, 2007 9:48 pm

Okay excellent post. I like the use of italics to represent a flashback. Only thing I happened to notice wrong is that you used waved instead of walked, and unless I interpreted incorrectly you assumed you could identify the person the Castellan was talking to.

The Castellan almost started when he heard the name Harkin… it sounded so familiar. Hmmm. He couldn’t place where he had heard it before but he knew he had. He’d ask the Elders when they entered the headquarters. The Castellan simply nodded at Harkin, “Very well, I will call you Harkin from now on.” He nodded and bade them keep walking. They continued on through the dark and musty corridor, passing lanterns every so often. Side passages branched off from the main but the Castellan simply led them straight on. Finally they came to an enormous metal door, it looked like an airlock. Jets of vapor hissed from vents above the door and a small number pad lit up next to it. He punched in a sequence of numbers and the door hissed, shuddered and slowly slid open, the top and bottoms falling away into the ceiling and floor respectively.

The Castellan led Harkin through the door and into the Undercity. They stood on a rock precipice over looking an enormous cavern. The roots of old buildings seemed to poke through the top of the cavern and it was evident this city had been built underneath the remains of the one above ground. The dim lights of the Undercity cast a permanent glow about the cavern. Buildings rose out of the sprawling cityscape and blinking and flashing neon signs marked the downtown area. In the Eastern sector of the city an enormous white tower rose out of the surrounding buildings like a spear of light. The Castellan smiled and pointed at it, “That is out destination, come, we can afford to slow our pace now.”

Zee All Knowing Peacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zee All Knowing Peacock** on Tue May 22, 2007 3:29 pm

OMG WoW reference!

Anyway, yeah, I did mean walked, just a typo.

The man called Harkin followed Castellan into the massive underground city and his footsteps gradually stopped. He stared with a dumbstruck look on his face at the awe-inspiring surroundings. Buildings carved straight out of the rock, with glowing neon signs denoting the various districts and stores. The streets wound through the city, cutting a swath through the rock. He looked into those streets, noting the various people milling about their usual business. He suddenly felt very exposed as he noticed his own naked body, compared to the various other dressed people.

He turned to Castellan and asked, "Can I have some clothes? There is little I remember of my former society, but I feel a bit uncomfortable as things stand. Especially if we can slow our pace." He held the knife in hand as he stood straight up, water dripping slowly off his unclad form. He began to shiver as he felt the cold seep into him, lethargically moving into his body. He closed his eyes, and felt his body slowly begin to warm up. He found the more he concentrated the more his body warmed. His mind focused further, and he felt his palms begin to sweat. As he thought more and more, he felt a tingling inside his head. This slowly moved down into his shoulders, and down his arms. It hit his hands, and he slowly felt it move into his finger tips.

Then he released it, a final surge of power coursing into his hands. Fire sprang up there, and Harkin's mind snapped back to the present world. He saw the fire in his hands, but it didn't burn, it was just there. He shook his hands, but the fire didn't extinguish. He brought the hand closer to his face, then concentrated on the fire. The fire slowly rose, then reformed into a small ball in his palm, hovering a few centimetres above the hand. His mind then focused around it, slowly smothering the flame. He looked up to Castellan, his eyes now burning brightly. In those eyes was held a bestial joy, a kind of satisfactory accomplishing. He smiled at Castellan.

"Now, as to those clothes..."

Azmodai2 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Azmodai2** on Wed May 23, 2007 9:59 pm

Okay, good post, the only problem I found was an awkward part of a sentance at the end of the post. "satisfactory accomplishing." Perhaps rephrase, to fit context better, "a kind of burning satisfaction at his accomplishment." In this case accomplishing is the wrong tense.

“Yes… clothes would be preferable before we truly enter the city, no one will bother you if you are with me but all the same, you should be clad.” The Castellan thought for a moment before undoing his robe and pulling it off. Underneath he wore simple white pants with a white cotton tunic. He handed the robe to Harkin and nodded, “Put that on, it’ll have to do for now.”

The Castellan noted Harkin’s magical ability… Yes he certainly had been someone important in a past time. Interesting manifestation, the fire ball, not an uncommon ability, but rarely so easily controlled. Hmmm, he would need to bring this man before the Magisters too. So much to do and likely little time to do it. He turned back towards the city, glancing out across its ‘skyline’ and admiring the lights.

It was beautiful sight, but into the city was a different story. The uptown sector was full of the aristocratic elite, they embodied power and wealth and looked on the troubles within the city and the outside world with disdain. The downtown area was a veritable red light district, full of flashing neon signs offering any of the vides a human being could ever want. The homeless lived in droves in this part of town and crime was a constant problem. As to the area where the Tower lay, yet again the city seemed to change themes, as this area was prosperous and clean. Well secured, policed and traveled the area around the Tower was one of the choicest places to live.

“Come, we may walk now, and it is a good time to ask questions. I will answer your inquiries as best I can however some information you may seek may be out of my right to give or out of your station to ask for.” The castellan smiled idly at Harkin as they continued down an enormous flight of stairs which began to lead into the outskirts of the city.

Zee All Knowing Peacock · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zee All Knowing Peacock** on Fri May 25, 2007 6:52 pm

Harkin wrapped the thick woolen robe around himself and looked around. He set off after Castellan, following him as he set off into the city. Harkin looked around at their surroundings, the various hawkers and merchants trying to sell their wares. He thought back on his little act of magic a few short minutes ago. The power had come from within, from a source which he could not conciously tap. He slowly tried again, trying to find that well inside of him, but nothing came. He exhaled slowly. They turned at a corner, and Harkin's feet slowed.

He moved up to a merchants small table, littered with various goods. "Castellan," he said, turning to face the man who's back was now to him, "I don't know much of my past, but I think I was a priest of some sort." He looked to the floor, feeling a surge of mixed emotions within him. He turned back to the vendor, then quickly scanned the assortment of items strewn there. He couldn't be sure of how, but he knew that none of them were of any value. He sighed, looking back towards Castellan. He made to speak, but rethought it, deciding to pick his words more carefully.

"It's just difficult," he said after a moment, "I feel I should know more than I do... but whenever I try and remember I just draw up nothing..." He looked down the street, not wanting Castellan to see the tear in his eye. That was just another example though, of what he knew, but didn't know how. He tried to think back, but it was like there was a void in his mind, a black, dark, encompassing mass that would slowly absorb all. He shuddered at the thought, then looked back towards Castellan.

"I am sorry," he said, forcing a weak smile, "I feel foolish. Come, we must continue. Lead the way, please." He gestured forward, his face streaked with what felt like just more memories, leaking out of him with no way to stop them. He moved forward, his dull footsteps heard by none, his presence not anymore noted than any other person on the street... just another face in a sea of visages...

This was not his time... but it would be soon...

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RP Academy - Zee All Knowing Peacock and Azmodai2

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RP Academy - Zee All Knowing Peacock and Azmodai2

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