Lords of Rock

Setting

A Rock Hard Land for Rock Hard Men.

The Rockaverse

The Land of Plenty

Minimap

The Rockaverse is a part of Lords of Rock.

11 Characters Here

Syra Onnet [88] A thrall who seeks more from life.
Captain Ash [20] A man gone wild, either by lust, by wars, or by the desert sun. Or maybe he's just clinically insane.
M'Kama [14] Life and death, two sides of the same coin. With that in mind, he crafts his own luck.
Mathis Gladys45 [6] New
Neko stacy [6] I am sweet and loving, i protect and comfort
londy [6]
lauraine [4] Today most of the people from all over the world are using the internet from different devices like PC, Laptop or smartphone etc.The internet has given birth to many online crimes, known as cyber-crimes, created by expert hackers. As each and every detail
Radio Box [2] Buying Guide & Reviews Portal

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#, as written by Nulix
"RIPPED ALIVE! RIPPED ALIVE!" Scramulk chanted. The thin man balanced atop his skeletal dog as he thrust his spear forward. Frey reached out, grabbing it with her bare hand. There was a pause as blood began to seep out of her palm, Frey glaring up at Scramulk fiercely. Then, before he could pull away, the metal of the spear shifted- the insides of the metal launched out the other end and blasting through Scramulk's eyehole. It cracked through the back of his skull, wild tendrils of metal hardening into place.

Frey released the spear as Scramulk fell off his mount, dead, and with the spear now permanently deformed and infused with his corpse.

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"OOOOOHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUCK!" One of the Dreadhounds shouted, steering his mount away from the scene of death. The woman who had spoken earlier, drew a spear and flung it.

It landed right in his neck and he died on the spot.

The first Dreadhound that had spoken to Frey. Rose his hands. "You....from the Frost?" He asked, reaching for his weapon on his back. "A Deathlord from the Frost...? Have you smelled it on the edge of the sky? The Beast World?"

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#, as written by Nulix
Frey glanced up at the opposing figure as he reached for the weapon upon his back. "Yes," She was indeed from the Floe, followed by a cold. "No." A Beast World? "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just here to prove I am the top dog."

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Price smiled as he took a look around the bar, taking in the colorful mix of people from all across the galaxy. "Unfortunately for you, what concerns you has no impact on what concerns the rest of the galaxy. I see a wave of people interested in your little planet, but they're a small wave compared to what could be one day. And as for Arubak... Well it's a couple of things, but mostly it's that he's truthfully the perfect person to work with." Price polished off his glass, setting it aside as he began to work on a new cigarette. "The proprietor of a casino play land on a distant, nearly forgotten planet, who probably happens to see mountains of gold move in and out of these walls."

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"You make a lot of presumptions on what we want, friend..." Kuchillo sighed, his hand slowly edging towards a knife on his belt....or so it had seemed. He'd drawn out a worn piece of paper and handed it to Price. "But what you say may be of interest. Arubak already has an engagement scheduled for tonight, but show this at the front desk of Pair'o'Dice...and maybe they'll try and fit you in early as possible. Cómprende?"

***
"Hnnrghh...." the Dreadhound glanced at her, puzzled. "RAAAGHHH!" he shouted at the heavens throwing his weapon, very quickly. Rapidly it encircled Frey, like a pair of bolas made of bones and wrapped around her, constricting her tightly. "Does she lie? I thought you could see it beneath the ice?!"

"Ice flows deep!" The Dreadhound woman from before hissed. "She is young and weak! She may be forbidden to see!"

"Beast World....Beast World..." The first Dreadhound, looked around muttering to himself before he turned to his colleague. "No....she is young. But NOT weak. Scramulk killed the Deathlord of the southern sky...He was NOT weak. She must see the Mad Dog II!"

"NO! Scramulk died to a child! He was NOT worthy! She is NOT worthy! Mad Dog II will see her, yes...but he will see her in the FLESH GNASHEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRR!"

"The FLESH GNASHER?!" The first Dreadnought smiled. "YES! YES! GNASH THE FLESH!" he stated.

The second Dreadhound suddenly bit a chunk out of his shoulder.

The first laughed and then bit her in turn. "WORTHINESS WILL BE DETERMINED! GNASH against the MIGHTY! GNASH against the STRONG! GNASH! GNASH! GNASH!" he chanted, grabbing the bone-bolas and dragging Frey across the arid dirt to their lair.

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"You, uh, you realize that's not a lot of warlords, right?" Horik interjected with a shake of her head. "I'm starting to think your deal is trash, Otis. It's a practically impossible task when you don't have a lot of info on you."

Horik turned to Chorvic, "You, though, you know your way around. So how about you work with us? Come with us."

She approached the jail cell door again and pushed it slightly to show it was open.

"Because ya'll do realize we're in jail right? They come back and this discussion is over."

~*~

"Yokt," the woman responded as she offered her arm to Qunith. Yokt had let go of Talideth who readjusted herself on the woman's other arm. "I didn't mean to intrude but ya'll seemed like ya'll had a goal in mind, the way you were heading up the stairs. And I think I know who you were heading up to."

"And is that someone a person you could introduce us to?" Talideth asked as she pressed her chest against Yokt's arm. Yokt turned red and looked up at the ceiling to avoid Qunith's gaze.

"I, yeah! No, I mean no! I was uh..." Yokt had a sheepish smile and chuckled awkwardly. "I was hoping I could use you two to see him actually... "

Talideth frowned and Yokt started to panic, "I don't mean to! I've been trying to get in but he's kinda private and I mean what I say!"

She sighed and frowned, "I'm offering salvation but its hard to convince people if they don't listen.. And I would uh, use myself, but uh... I don't think I could do anything for him. Kinda too man-ish some might say."

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Talideth had wrapped themselves against Yokt's left arm, the maroon suit arm gently buried between the cleavage of her dress- an act that seemed to make their new guest nearly tremble. "I am Qunith. They are Talideth. We are Sudean divines," Talideth said, taking Yokt's open right arm and sliding it around their waist. The two thralls walked up the stairs on each side of the woman, their chain trailing behind her like a long necklace on the ground.

"Twas no lie- I don't think you are here to buy our company," Qunith commented at Yokt's behaviour, their eye contact uncomfortable intense as they walked on Yokt's arm. They had a rustic smell to them, and Qunith was close enough that they could see the lines of their face- the faint scars on the jaw. They bit their lip. Qunith glanced up to the top of the stairs, leading to the backroom where they'd seen the man in the white suit retreat to. "No, I think perhaps we startle you. You are correct, Yokt. We too seek this party's gracious host."

***

By the hood of her cloak the skeleton beasts dragged her. Frey began to be dragged away across the flat plaines of the Hollow Barrens- her ordeals had just begun...

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Chorvic blinked for for a minute. "With you where? Haven't you been paying attention? I'm not long for this cell. No matter how mad at me they get, they all know I'm essential to this place's operations. I don't have anything to gain from going with you and everything to lose."

"Now..." Chorvic pushed his glasses up slightly. "What I can do for you is secure you safe passage away from from the Rock on the very near future. Let's say...tonight, perhaps? Simply let me in on everything you know about this gun."

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"Horik, my deal sounds like trash because you aren't looking at the big picture," Otis said calmly. "But let me assure you that standing on the bodies of the dead to escape this pit will not free you from whatever you're running from. Getting off this planet won't mean anything unless you're ready to change who you are. The rest of the galaxy is just one giant Rock, Horik. They're just often more polite about it."

Otis turned to Chorvic. "I don't need your help to leave the Rock, nor am I inclined to do so right now. But I will tell you, the gun is probably the largest anti-artillery weapon ever crafted. It's the size of a building. It misfired and destroyed a city, I couldn't tell you exactly what it's capable of if fully activated. Right now, the bullets are here, 'safe' I guess you could say, so it can't fire again without them. That's about all I know."

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Price looked to the paper, then back to Kuchillo, smiling and giving the Rockian an understanding nod. "Message received friend. I'll go pay the Pair'o'Dice a visit soon. But one last thing I wanted to know... What's your interest in the ruby?" His voice was light and inquisitive, his curiosity seeping through his otherwise composed exterior. Price was interested in knowing the story behind Kuchillo's interest in the ruby, if there was a story behind it. And if there was... He wanted to know just how much it meant to him.

________________________________________________________________________


Rob was now gone from the bar, and the game of cards on the stage had finally wound down, with Syra walking away with less than she had likely hoped, and the strangely chipper man getting the final prize of the ruby. All in all, an odd night Ash though. But then again, this seemed an odd town. He allowed his eyes to follow Syra a short bit, before noticing her being approached by several figures. The sight made Ash leery, he had no trust for the people in this town, and the ones with Syra now seemed like he should have even less. Ash was about to get up and join Syra, but something caught his eye, somewhere standing near the doorways to the bar. The Captain allowed his gaze to wander for a moment to the side of the room, long enough to witness... A woman. A young woman to be exact, with dark skin, and obsidian colored hair, a Rockian to be sure. But her face, her soft, cute features...

Ash was frozen in place. He couldn't move. Both his ability and his will to do so seemed to vanish and overtake him all at the same time, as if he needed to sprint away, but needed to remain completely still at the same time. He strained his muscles to keep his mouth from opening in shock. What he was seeing surely was not what he thought it was, it could not remotely be real. Either it was drunkenness, a hallucination, or a wild coincidence. The woman seemed smiley, cheerful, and began to make her way out of the bar, off to enjoy more of her time in the city no doubt. After a few moments, Ash was able to sit back in his chair, barely moving again. His breathing was deep and heavy, he took another gulp of his liquor, but it would likely take a few more to help him forget.

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"Change who I am?" Horik spat at Otis, her temper beginning to rise. "What the hell do you know about me, Otis? We haven't known each other for that long and in this span of time, this is most likely the most we've actually talked. Don't assume my motivations."

Horik turned to Chorvic, "Tonight? Since he told you the info you wanted, can you still arrange that transport for me?"

~*~

"Y-yeah, I'm uh, not used to beautiful people coming up to me like this," Yokt admitted with a small nervous chuckle. "Makes me more terrible at my mission than I already am.. but uh, I uh, have a good mentor! She pulls a lot of strings for me all the time. She has a big heart."

Yokt seemed to gain a bit of confidence at the thought of her mentor. She gave a broad smile to each divine on her arms and straightened her back a little.

"In fact she's the one who got me the invitation here, and," Yokt paused dramatically as she motioned her head to the upstairs. "To him."

"An invitation already? Then what do you need us for, if not for yourself?" Talideth asked as the trio began upstairs.

"Invitation or not, I don't feel he's going to be as welcoming to me as I would like," Yokt said with a small helpless smile. "I want to see if he'll give a small donation to my cause at the very least. At most, maybe I can convince him to hear my message and maybe clean up his ways."

"Seems like a rather poor idea to bring us along, rather contradictory," Talideth pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"Like I said, not the best at my job," Yokt laughed. "But my mentor has provided so much for me that giving it my best effort isn't a bad idea, don't you think?"

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"The Ruby?" Kuchillo chuckled. "Not much interest in it at all, amígo. The only glint of red I wanted to see was the blood dripping from Mama Lewd's throat," the eastern Skylander stood up. He tosses several coins at the bartender before nodding to Price. "I have something I need to attend to soon, so I'll be taking my leave. I trust there's nothing else?"

***

"The bullets..." Chorvic muttered, looking around as he cradled his head a bit. "They're here....?" He spat. He looked at Horik. "Sure, I can get your transport, but I've got one last question...What happened to the Witch of the Wastes?"

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"She's dead," Horik frowned. "As far as we know, anyway. The group Otis and I were with fought her and so far as we know, she's rotting in the sands."

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"People like her don't die that easily," Otis said with a sigh. "I know from experience. Well, good luck, Horik. Perhaps we'll see each other again someday."

Otis walked out of the station and back onto the street, his thoughts a jumble. Perhaps it would be best if he were to simply abandon his plans. Surely, there were very few people, if any, who would join him in what was almost certainly a lost cause.

"Tera Roth, what would you do?" Otis asked himself out loud, looking blankly at the highlighted buildings and laughing gamblers. "I'm not strong like you were. I don't have an army. Am I just... wasting my time?"

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"Shit...shit, shit..." Chorvic muttered to himself, looking from left to right. "If she's really gone..." he glanced up at Horik. "Hey once we get outta here, I'll make the arrangements. I've got an office in Pair'o'Dice. Find me there later and I'll give you your ticket outta here," he added.

Outside, Mild approached Otis and asked, "Everything alright? RB said your uh...friend is free to go. Though I'm not sure he's keen on her staying much longer after the meeting. Sorry," he apologized. "And speaking of which, he said he wants it started soon, so you can head back to Pair'o'Dice if you want. Things should just be getting set up now."

With that, he nodded at Otis and walked back into the jailhouse.

"Ah," Chorvic aighed, relieved at the sight of the Holy Land head I'd security. "Mild, my boy! You're a man of reason! I trust you talked Arubak into letting me go?"

"Fortunately, sir," Mild nodded with a slight smile. He then looked at Horik. "You're free as well. RB wants you ready for the meeting about the uh..."

"About the bullets?" Chorvic concluded.

"You know?!" Mild questioned, shocked.

"Son, I can't do my job properly without knowing such things," Chorvic patted Mild on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't crash this meeting of yours...not unless something urgent comes up, eh?" He smiled as he walked off.

Mild' expression turned puzzled as he gave a heavy sigh and looked back on Horik. "Well, that should be that. I'd everything alright with you? Do you need anything?" He inquired, still remembering her...unpleasant state of mind back at the bar.

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Horik paused at Mild's questions, a lot of things running through her mind. She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed a little, "Actually, yeah. You wouldn't happen to have any bandages here would you? Maybe a needle and thread?"

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Character Portrait: Syra Onnet

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Syra walked beside the sheepish maid, the brute of a man walking behind them. She was lead up a winding driveway. “Your master saw the card game and wanted me, of all the players at his party?” She asked as the wrought iron gate was opened by a footman who nodded to the Brute. “Why, yes, he seemed quite smitten with you! You should consider yourself lucky! People are dying to be let into this party!” She gestured to the line of people outside the front door. More burly men blocked their entrance as they stood tall, arms folded across their chests.

“I’ve never cared for men with power who think they can have whatever they want,” Syra muttered angrily, shooting the muscle man behind them a look. The small-framed maid just laughed sheepishly, “truly, you should be honored! I’m lucky to serve such a man,” she exclaimed with a level of confidence Syra wasn’t sure she’d had before. “I bet you are,” Syra replied, rolling her eyes as she was lead to a side door. The sound of an orchestra filling her ears before anyone even opened the door.

She stood in a small parlor, clearly off-limits to the party goers as it was empty save a few staff members who quickly rushed to grab Syra a drink and cater to her every need. It seems she was to be given the VIP treatment, and that angered her. She’d spent 12 years in forced servitude to a Warlord, and now she was being Wooed by a wealthy man. No matter the tactics, the desired result from her was the same, control. She grabbed a glass and pushed her way into the party, eager to tell the host off. The young woman who’d brought her, quickly fell into step, offering to show her the mansion, and introduce her to the party-goers.

“I don’t care!” Syra shouted over the music when her eyes found the Witch’s thralls. She swallowed, trying not to stare at how nice the pair looked. She blushed a little but made her way over to them all the same. “Miss, you mustn’t keep my master waiting! Please just follow me!” The maid called as Syra made her way up the stairs, towards Talideth and Qunith, who were clinging to a middle-aged woman dressed in a fine outfit befitting of the party.

“You two seem to be doing well for yourselves this evening, were you also drug here?” she asked, as they climbed the stairs. “Ah, yes, if these are your friends, my master would be more than willing to accommodate them too! Please just wait a few moments while I bring Miss Syra inside, then I will come to collect you!”

“Whatever, let’s just get this over with,” Syra sighed, casting a pleading look to the chained pair before being lead into the private lounge of the party’s host, the door shut behind her.


“Master! I’ve brought the young woman as you requested!” The maid called happily. “She has a few friends outside who seem to have been at the gathering downstairs! They are with Yokt! I told them to wait a few moments, but I can bring them now if you’d like.”

A man in a fitted white suit raised his hand in response. The young maid bowed and made her way out of the lounge. No words were spoken, but everyone in the room knew he didn’t intend to entertain anyone more. The exclusive party was held in this room, and Syra found herself surrounded by the elite. A few women sat in one corner, hands caressing one another as a few men watched in stunned silence, some others played the same game Syra had just left, only their bets were easily triple what they’d bet. A soft violin player played in front of the window as footman prepared a fresh glass of champaign for Syra.

“You have quite an air about you, Syra Onnet,” The man began. He stood quickly, but fluidly for a middle-aged man. His slicked-back brown hair greying at the temples. He clearly took care of himself as Syra could make out the muscle definition even underneath his suit. He took the champaign glass from his footman, and a shorter glass filled with an amber liquid Syra knew all too well from her time under Theory, Spitfire. A liquor made from a rare desert blossom that only matures under a full moon every seven years. It is then fermented for another twenty before being distilled into one of the most expensive liquors on The Rock, if not the known universe. Theory had been paid in it by wealthy traders who used it in place of protection money. “In fact, I’d say you are worthy of the same title as this liquor,” he grinned as he sipped from his glass while offering her the bubbly golden liquid. She accepted and drank slowly, politely.

“You seem to know more about me than most, and I can’t say that we’ve ever met…”

“Blacksun, Dmitri Blacksun,” He said with a sly smile, “I’ve done my homework, you are an enigma on this world, and enigmas tend to stand out,” he gestured for her to sit, which she simply shook her head. “Very well, if you won’t sit, at least do me the pleasure of accompanying me to my private study, these people don’t need to hear our conversation,” he smiled again and gestured to a small door that sat nearly hidden against the far wall in the dim light. The two women who’d been simply running their hands over one another had now taken to undressing one another, and inviting one of the men watching their show to join. He eagerly and greedily grabbed at their flesh, each letting out a low moan, much to the delight of the unlucky onlookers. Syra followed Blacksun without question, wanting as far from the elite’s version of a party as possible.

Once the two were alone, Blacksun locked the door behind them, “This way we cannot be interrupted,” He glided across the room and sat down at an oak desk before propping his feet up.

“I’m not sure if you’re used women throwing themselves at you or what, but I didn’t come here because I was impressed or flattered by your invitation,” she began, drawing a smile from Blacksun, who seemed to adore her standoffish, angry nature. “I’m not planning on sleeping with you for bringing me here by sleeping with you or begging to be yours or even thank you. I was brought here against my will by one of your stupid brutes and a misguided young maid who seemed to think you are somehow a divine being incarnate,” Blacksun raised a hand with a chuckle, cutting Syra short.

“You misunderstand, Miss Onnet,” He shook his head with a small chuckle and after removing his feet from his desk, steepled his hands and leaned forward on the desk, “Sure, I was taken by the young, attractive spitfire of a woman who so willingly spoke her mind and refused to back down to a bunch of spoiled men and women, but no, I am not the only one who requested your presence this evening.”

Blacksun strode across the room and stood with his hand on the doorknob that lead back to his private lounge and VIP party. “No you see, a beloved friend and guest of mine wanted you here this evening, and I simply cannot refuse the request of such a friend. However, this is a favor I don’t plan on forgetting.” He chuckled and the lock clicked, and Syra quickly realized he was no longer speaking to her. She turned now to see a figure moving in the shadows, that took their place behind the desk that Blacksun had just abandoned. She watched as Blacksun closed the door behind himself, excusing himself from his own study.

Syra took a deep breath as she turned around, the light on the desk clicking on. The faint smell of desert tobacco filled the room now and made her blood run cold. He sat, with a smile on his face, despite his right eye being covered by a dark blue sash, and his right arm tied against his chest, wrapped in fresh white linen. Before he spoke, he took a deep drink from his own glass of Spitfire.

“Hello, Syra,” Theory said with a grin, “You’ve been quite busy, and I hear you have what I require.”

Syra’s back hit the door and reached for the knob, but it was locked now from the other side. She felt tears well up in her eyes as the fear of being taken again overcame her.

“You look lovely this evening, by the way, perhaps when we return home I’ll be sure to allow you a lot more time in my private baths, and I can have the finest dresses made for you. You will return as my personal queen, and the savor of the Remnants,” He waved his hands in a grand gesture, “Would that make you happy? A thrall turned queen? Queen of the thralls, and my most favored wife,” though he was injured he was on her in seconds, pinning her against the wall, his lips brushing against her neck as he spoke, “You ran away, and left me for dead, you allowed them to think they won, but now you can make it all up to me.” He kissed her neck deeply, and shoved his knee between hers, attempting to open her legs for him, but she fought, pushing him off and putting some space between them. He laughed coldly, and ran his good hand through his hair, “You’re right, this isn’t the time or the place, simply show me to where the cannon rounds are being held, and then this little vacation of yours will come to an end, you can come home and all will be forgiven.”


“Go to hell…” She muttered, trying to find the resolve she’d had only moments ago.

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"I have some bandages..." Mild noted, reaching into a his pocket and pulling out a small medical kit. He opened it as he gave a roll to Horik. "As for a needle and thread, hmm. I'm sure you can find some in Pair'O'Dice if you ask at the front desk," he figured. Mild then turned around, saying, "I suppose I'll see you at this meeting and I hope you feel better, whatever you're going through. Maybe a little less snorting of glass..." he noted as the winds carried him and he flew off.

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#, as written by Nulix
Qunith's facade of a face cracked in dismay as, mere steps from the entrance, Syra ran past them with a maid in hand. Syra gave them a quick address before being show into the doorway. "Ah, tis one of our mother's murderers," Qunith frowned, not remembering Syra's name. They quickly nuzzled themselves against Yokt's neck. "No matter, I suppose they are another advocate for us to get in."

True to the maid's words she returned moments later, opening the curtain to the dark chambers of the elite lounge. Gas lit neon flickering against the faces as they entered. Film reels played on the walls, displaying card-games from across the Holy Land. The people in this room had their eyes on everything in the city. A violin player stood before an open window as groups of elites gambled and drank- while others engaged in debaucherous acts with the company they'd brought in.

Qunith blinked as in a corner booth two women kissed, their dresses falling off them as a suited man was in between. "And they say there are no thralls in the Holy Land," Qunith stated. Arubak's paradise may not officially had slaves, but out of the losers it seemed to have made slaves anyway.

A few men passed, their eyes on the thralls, a glint of confrontational confusion at Yokt between them. No sign of Syra in the lounge at least. "Do you see the man you're looking for, my dearest?" Qunith asked Yokt.

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The two guards to the mansion fell to their knees, dumbfounded expressions on their face as Ewgross strode past them easily into the main foyer. Many of the other guests glanced at him, but Ewgross' suit was just fancy enough to not throw off any alarms in the guests' inebriated minds.

Ewgross grinned widely as he pulled out a Sorillian cigar and lit it, puffing on it naturally as he grabbed the maid who had escorted Syra upstairs by the hair and pulled her close.

"Wench, where'd you take the girl?" Ewgross said politely. "I have some business with her that has yet to be concluded."

"S-she's meeting with the master, in h-his private study," the maid stammered, her hands reaching up in vain to try to pull Ewgross' surprisingly strong grip away. "B-but you can't..."

"Thanks lass," Ewgross said, pulling the maid closer and giving her a quick but strong kiss. The maid fell to her knees in shock, the flush creeping up her cheeks as she sat in a daze.

"What a man..." the maid whispered as Ewgross strode upstairs and into the study.

"Ah, you two," Ewgross said to the former Witch's thralls. "You came with the one called Syra, yes? Would you be so inclined as to tell me which room she has entered?"

***

"Er, all right," Otis said, dreading the coming conversation almost as much as he'd dreaded anything, but heading to the Pair O'Dice anyway.

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#, as written by Nulix
"I don't know who you are," Qunith informed as a man drunkenly staggered toward them, hatred and menace in his eyes. "And I didn't see where this Syra went." Both true and accurate statements.

"Oi, fraudster," A burly suited man said, grabbing Ew Gross by the shoulder. "You want a fist up the asshole? Or you wanna play us," The man grinned, showing Ewgross to the pool table.

Qunith blinked at the scene before turning to face Yokt again. "This room seems to be filled with the richest men in the Holy Land," They pointed out...

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Ewgross nodded politely. "No, thanks." He patted the man on the shoulder and the man collapsed, a dumbfounded expression on his face. "Oh, I guess you had too much to drink anyway, eh friend?"

Looking at one of the adjacent rooms, Ewgross nodded. "I guess we do this the hard way. I'll just wait for the screaming!"

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"Now you see why, I uh, I have to do my best here," Yokt smiled as she looked around. "Those with money have influence and if I can gain that influence, Sanctuary grows and my master is better secured in her position."

"Again, seems contradictory," Talideth pointed out.

"It's a challenge I've faced before," Yokt chuckled.

"And did you overcome it?" Talideth asked with some skepticism.

"Not yet," Yokt admitted before her eyes landed on a man closing doors behind him towards the other side of the room. He was finely dressed and exuded an aura of control not exhibited by the other drunken or well dressed visitors throughout the room. Yokt turned to look at Tali and Quni. "but maybe just this once? If you two are here to help out? He seems a bit tense so maybe you two can get him to relax a little?"

~*~

Horik trudged back to the wagon and looked for the worm first. It seems half asleep, uncurled just enough to show the legs, midriff, and head of the other Horik that seemed to be asleep also. As Horik moved into the wagon, the worm roused itself and pushed its head towards the uninjured Horik.

"You really gave them quite a scare," Horik muttered as she made her clone sit up to check her face. There was some caked blood however and Horik took a canteen out of one of her pockets to rinse the clone's face. The clone stayed quiet as Horik examined her face but it seemed like any wounds she had experienced were healed with only slight scars that showed if you looked hard enough.

"You do heal quite well at least though I expect that's the worm's doing," Horik continued as she took out a small cloth and wiped the clone's face. "Snorting glass does a number on you though but I can't see what until I can crack your face open."

The clone winced as Horik dabbed her face a bit too hard with the cloth.

"But I don't know if Worm can do another one of you," Horik admitted, a bit of disappointment in her voice. "Or the others, but I may not need to find out anyway."

The clone lifted its head and looked at Horik confused.

"I'm leaving," Horik said as she put the cloth and canteen away. "I don't know when I'll be back."

And with that, she made her way to the Pair o' Dice.

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#, as written by Nulix
"You are looking to gain influence with the men of the casinos?" Qunith questioned Yokt, their hand sliding off Yokt's shoulder. Qunith glanced back at the suited guard, a man of wealth no doubt himself, and then at Yokt again. "And if you... acquire this influence with the men inside that door, what does that get us?" Qunith smiled their canines.

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Price gave a polite smile and nod to Kuchillo. "Nothing else, I won't take up any more of your time. But before you go, I'd like to say that if you find yourself in need of anything in the future, you or your boss, don't hesitate to ask. I know you don't know me, but in other parts of our galaxy, I have a reputation for being quite resourceful." He finished off his drink, sent the glass back to the barkeep, and placed a fairly sizeable amount of coin down for payment and tip. "Until next time Kuchillo." Price said with a slight wave as the other man left. Steppenwolf sat there alone a few moments as he contemplated his next move. There was plenty of activity in the town, and plenty of need to know people as well. Evidently there was various movers and shakers from off world, but it was looking like there may be some here from The Rock as well, perhaps some warlords, or emissaries of them.

He smirked to himself slightly, realizing he may have jumped out of one fire and into another, was hard to tell this early on though. And besides, his options off world had been practically non-existent anyways, this was his only card left to play. Steppenwolf finally got up from the bar and began to make his way out, but accidentally bumped into someone's chair half way there.

"Ah, apologies friend, didn't see you there."


Ash looked up with a start, but managed a slight smile, attempting to hide his suspicion. Truthfully, Ash didn't trust anyone here, so it was less to do with the man himself, more to do with circumstances. "Not to worry, my drink was already finished." Ash chuckled slightly as he held up his empty glass. He realized shortly after that the man he was now talking to was the one who'd won the ruby in the card game up on stage, which made Ash a little more curious about the man, but still distrusting.

"Good, terrible thing to waste a drink I say." Price responded with a wily grin. The voice of the man was a bit odd to him, it sounded a little foreign to him, 'upper class' one might say. Definitely Sorillian, but from what part, Price wasn't sure. He looked Ash over for a moment, realizing just how well dressed the seated man was. "I'm sorry to pry, but your clothes are absolutely marvelous! May I ask where you bought them?" Price beamed.

"Cávaliers, very fine quality I might add." Ash responded politely, but still feeling a little on edge.

Price gave a snap of his fingers, pointing to Ash and nodding his head in thanks. "Thank you friend, you've done me a great favor! If they've got clothing this nice, I'll certainly be paying them a visit sometime."


"Well with that new ruby of your's I'm sure you won't have any trouble getting them to tailor for you."

Price chuckled a little in response. "No, I suppose you're right! Well, thank you again for the tip friend, have a good rest of your evening." Price gave a polite nod as he continued to leave.

"You as well." Though still polite, Ash felt on edge, even with the conversation being relatively innocent.

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Once outside, Price took a deep breath, letting the night air fill his lungs. He took another look around to see where the best use of his time could be tonight, and thought he had spotted the girl from earlier being escorted to some kind of mansion. From high stakes gambling to a high society party perhaps? Regardless of the girl though, the party did seem to be a little more lively, so Price decided that may be the best place for him to explore next.

Walking into the manor estate, Price began to casually mingle around, picking up a glass of champagne so as to more effectively ingratiate into the party. Eventually he bumped into a maid that seemed to be scurrying about to take care of one thing or another, but he kept her a moment to speak. "Sorry to interrupt you miss, but can you please tell me who the gracious host of this party is? I'm a little new to town, still trying to get my bearings." He said with a playful grin and chuckle.


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Globbulous waddled into the VIP section on his infantile legs (and I do mean legs that are akin to an infant. Have you seen a baby that is barely starting to learn to walk, try to walk? It's a lot like that). Life had been unkind to Globbulous's body. Or more accurately, his life choices had been unkind to his body. As he gazed upon the feast of flesh before him, he salivated, drooled, and panted heavily like some kind of dog that resembled a gremlin, having a squished looking face that made breathing difficult for the poor creature.

"What exquthite beauty. To witneth my fellow men working to conquer the female kingdom. It ith truly remarkable." He sputtered.