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Sief Lendur

The Left Hand Favour

0 · 135 views · located in La'ita Hara

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

Description

Basic Information
Name: Sief Lendur; The Left Hand of Favours.
Sex: Male.
Age: Thirty six years old.
Species: Human.

Description
The Left Hand of Favours is merely a title, but one befitting the man. He holds no great position nor any great power, but always finds himself able to help. Over the years he has garnered many favours, but leaves many unfulfilled until he believes the time is right. Sief is a tall and rather ailed with a frail body unfitting of his grand mind. His dark hair, sunken eyes and pale skin all lend to the image of a man better bedridden then upright. Nonetheless he walks the streets in a fine suit, pinstriped with crimson silk and the bottom button always undone. He wears fine watches of silver and a ring of glass on his left hand.

So begins...

Sief Lendur's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: John Phage Character Portrait: Sief Lendur Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Leli
Watching the young girl amble past him, mumbling to herself while chewing on her hair, Sief bid ado to the man he spoke to. Nodding in response he turned his coat and found a way into the nearest home and away from the streets. What exactly the two were speaking of was of little concern to others, unless that individual was the one whom had stolen money from Sief.

The evening was cool, almost brisk with the wind. Sief shivered slightly under his suit as he walked through the streets. He had nothing planned for the evening or the night, and was contemplating a solace return to his home to his faithful companion and the only thing he believed he could truly love. Sarah was beautiful, for a dog. She had a golden coat and no matter the day was always at the door waiting for Sief's return. Today would have been no different if he hadn't noticed something down one of the smaller side streets that made the city what it was.

A man garbed in dark clothing was hunched over, some sort of mask over his face. His breathing seemed heavy as his chest heaved to and fro. There didn't seem to be any blood coming from him, and frankly the city wasn't particularly known for its crime, or at least for leaving it unfinished. Nonetheless Sief saw what he knew might be his next great helper and he relished the encounter with glee for short moment. Making his best effort to look rushed Sief made his way over to the man, the click clack of his shoes calling out his concern to him.

"Sir?" He asked calmly and quietly. Far from common was the site of what looked like a doctor gone mad, and Sief wasn't particularly willing to look like anything but a concerned citizen to them either. If everything played out well though he may have just added another favour to his ever growing pool.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: John Phage Character Portrait: Sebastian Midnight Character Portrait: Sief Lendur Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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John had no idea what to do, he was close to the targeted area, but couldn't move. For some reason the nature energy intake was slower than usual, did something happen? Or is it the area which saps magical energy? Whatever the reason, he had to get moving and get to work. The magic which John had used to keep his body 'alive' was designed to adapt, meaning anything which saps off of his magical energy would end up being rejected as the body gains immunity.
(It wouldn't be long until the parasite is rejected due to immunity and/or rejection.)

Suddenly, the sound of shoes clacking on the floor reached John's ears. Causing his decomposing body to crack and twitch as if the joints haven't been oiled as John attempted to look at the stranger.
"Sir?" That was the word aseked by the stranger,
"W-what is it?" The croaking voice slightly covered by the excessive breathing of the gas mask struggled to leave the necromancer's mouth. The body struggled and failed to stand many times, causing John to give off a sigh of annoyance and defeat as he gave up, falling to the ground with a thud.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: John Phage Character Portrait: Nalesh Vinar Character Portrait: Sebastian Midnight Character Portrait: Sief Lendur Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Zarhara
Above the street a winged figure would fly and land a few blocks from the strange even unaware of the current circumstances. He wore the armor and insignia of the Royal guard. The Avorian would walk down the street quietly. He would appear to be lost in his own thoughts as he walked.

It's nice to be off guard duty for once. He thought to himself as he walked down the street looking around quietly. He was still about two blocks from the others.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: John Phage Character Portrait: Nalesh Vinar Character Portrait: Savannavh Reed Character Portrait: Sebastian Midnight Character Portrait: 00 Character Portrait: Sief Lendur
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#, as written by 000
Fingerclaws grasping at, scraping for sshhaaddeowss, the entity casts forth a multitude of hooked lines into one of the human's subtle bodies, the innumerable worms within his shadow sweeping sideways, waves wriggling towards a single point, threads swirling, whirling, wrapping together, coalescing into a massive coiled serpent, so large that the only parts of its darkness could be seen at one time within the man's shadow, arched, broad, curving lines of black within the gray: realizing, too late, that this is the wrong host, after all.

The head, short and rectangular, a big box shape mounted on a stringy neck flickering, wavering between varying degrees of thickness and thinness.
Too used to beings of more mundane, of less magical worlds, this necromancer's undead body is naturally building up an immunity far faster than it would have originally guessed.
But hunger and thirst, persistance and need, want and will...all of these thing leading to the entity to dig deeper, to try harder, with the memories of past experiences echoing in its mind, telling it that this is all it needs to do -- merely this and nothing more.
Yet a magical energy continues to prick at its threads, to pull it off, push it away; the cubical head thrashed on a neck made crooked with rapid, violent movements.

Feeling its grip loosening, its touch waning, a silent screech is sent from the shadows, sound waves imperceivable but nonetheless piercing to the ears.
The darkness fading, the entity coming to the inevitable conclusion, facing the realization that this time it is wrong, and closing in on the decision that it shall have to leave before any damage is done from being forced out, even at the cost of discovery.
Senses spanning surroundings, fanning out in the general area, but finding nothing of important interest to its own needs.
It shall have to search elsewhere for a suitable host -- supposedly in yet another waiting game.

So thinking, the human's shadow would appear to bulge outwards, as the shadowy entity bloats its body and pushes itself up against the borders, forcing its way out of the walls and into the air in a burst of liquid darkness, a dense fountain of black rushing upwards, skywards, away from both the necromancer and the rest of the grounded crowd.
A minute would be taken for the entirety of it to exit the man's shadows, to empty itself into the air; the fluid threads rolling together into a knotted spherical mass, just as a sleeping snake might.
The tangles in constant motion, only when all of it is in the air would the black phantasm raise its rectangular prism head, the only thing neither smooth in shape, nor entirely black in color; similar to a black transistor battery, its two snap connectors marked with silver stripes surrounding whorling white whirlpools.

The serpentine shadow would, for a brief moment, orient its polarized snaps towards the group below, before, in one smooth, swift movement, thrust its body upwards, out of its tangles and into a slick, slippery string slithering skywards, a mile or more of electrical cable stretching itself away towards sliding into an unreachable, interdimensional space, the entrance located within the reaches of its very own self.
Hopefully the sudden surprise appearance would be enough to shock and startle most present, particularly those few capable of seeing it and, even rarer, those who might be able to seal it away, into a stilled silence...enough ignorance and time for fulfilled flight.

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