Setting
A door at the end of the Corridor opens to the Altar Room. A large basalt altar and several black iron poles adorn the center of this large room. Etched along the floor are a series of sigils and symbols that glow with a faint orange hue. The symbols form a circle around the altar. Atop the black edifice is the remains of a being. Sprawled as if used for some dark ritual, bits of flesh remain, giving the image an unsettling appearance.
Altar Room
A door at the end of the Corridor opens to the Altar Room. A large basalt altar and several black iron poles adorn the center of this large room. Etched along the floor are a series of sigils and symbols that glow with a faint orange hue. The symbols form a circle around the altar. Atop the black edifice is the remains of a being. Sprawled as if used for some dark ritual, bits of flesh remain, giving the image an unsettling appearance.
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
Altar Room is a part of 
The Ruins.
28 Characters Here
Velius Howahkan [22] A very formal and distinguished looking business man. He tends to avoid speaking at all, and always has a peculiar cane. He works for Intellegence Corp, and has an affinity with machines...
Skout Anobraxyl [12] A planeswalking rogue/assassin, retired and lost to the aether.
Akan Mirrikh [10] Dressed in a faded black cloak with a worn scorpion embroidered over the back he wears a scorpion curled up on the end of a chain around his neck and walks with a slight limp.
Marty the Scarlat macaw [7] he is a parrot with a sense of humure
Cheyenne Heronwing [4] A fragile child of twelve, this girl seems to possess the potential for so much more...
Jennafae [3] From a underworld of darkness, now living in the light.. A drow who left her family and way of life she just couldn't live any longer.
Michael Westen [3] My name is Michael Westen. I used to be a spy. Until I was burned. Now, all I can rely on is my trigger-happy ex girlfriend, a friend who used to inform on me to the FBI. Family too, when I'm desperate. If you have a problem, chances are? I can solve it.
Klept [1]
The Legend [1]
Start Character Here »
A man stepped from the shadows of the Altar Room after watching a rather lovely woman preform a most interesting ritual. As Secundus of the Canum Venaticorum it was Lesath's foremost duty to investigate unique individuals and that individual just happened to be a very attractive woman.
"And what do we have here, Emily," Lesath's velveteen voice called out while the man pulled a pair of black leather gloves over his hand and a black cat wrapped around his legs. The feline stared at the woman and made a low growl in her chest. Sirrah was not keen on Lesath being around other females, even if she was just an ordinary house cat.
"And what do we have here, Emily," Lesath's velveteen voice called out while the man pulled a pair of black leather gloves over his hand and a black cat wrapped around his legs. The feline stared at the woman and made a low growl in her chest. Sirrah was not keen on Lesath being around other females, even if she was just an ordinary house cat.
Emily's breath caught in her chest as a sudden voice, though smooth as it was, reached her ears. Morrmor hissed loudly, before retreating. "No, wait!" she called to him, reaching towards her amulet and snatching it up. She cradled it in her hands, holding it close to her face and staring at it. The dark haired maiden turned towards Lesath, vice apparent on her features.
"Who the hell are you?" she spat, striding towards him after slipping the amulet around her neck and getting to her feet. She clutched her full skirt, if only to keep her hands still. If this man and his...cat? If they hadn't shown up, Morromor was going to give Emily her next target. It rocked her stomach to know how mad Morromor was going to be on his next summoning.
"Who the hell are you?" she spat, striding towards him after slipping the amulet around her neck and getting to her feet. She clutched her full skirt, if only to keep her hands still. If this man and his...cat? If they hadn't shown up, Morromor was going to give Emily her next target. It rocked her stomach to know how mad Morromor was going to be on his next summoning.
A rather arrogant smirk touched Lesath's face as the woman neared him when the ritual had failed. Interesting, he thought silently to himself. Emily was so emotional over her failure. She had allowed herself to become distracted but it was him after all, wasn't it? What woman could resist his dark charm. The thought garnered a low chuckle from the man's throat.
"Oh Emily," Lesath said, repeating her name again while reaching for the amulet and allowing his eyes to linger on portions of her body, intentionally. He took the trinket into his fingers and spoke,"I am a very powerful man that can make many of your dreams realities. Lesath Australis, Secundus in the Canum Venaticorum," the man announced with his full title.
His fingers traced along the amulet and finally, through the fringe of his bangs, the Promethean looked up at her with his crimson eyes.
"I answered your question and now I want you to answer mine," Lesath stated with a command of authority.
"Oh Emily," Lesath said, repeating her name again while reaching for the amulet and allowing his eyes to linger on portions of her body, intentionally. He took the trinket into his fingers and spoke,"I am a very powerful man that can make many of your dreams realities. Lesath Australis, Secundus in the Canum Venaticorum," the man announced with his full title.
His fingers traced along the amulet and finally, through the fringe of his bangs, the Promethean looked up at her with his crimson eyes.
"I answered your question and now I want you to answer mine," Lesath stated with a command of authority.
Emily arched an eyebrow, an expression of confusion and disbelief. Strangely, this man was so demanding, and something smouldered about the way he looked through his fringe with eyes so brilliantly red they looked as though they could glow. Her muscles tensed as his fingers touched the amulet, her icily pale eyes glaring at him. If he dared as try and break it... Electricity shot through her arms at the though, most likely a pre-emtive scolding from Morrmor.
"That? That was Morromor, alright? The demonic prescence that inhabits this amulet. And you sure as hell just pissed him off. You know i'm going to suffer for that..." she admitted, her gaze sweeping over Lesath before dropping to the floor between their feet.
"That? That was Morromor, alright? The demonic prescence that inhabits this amulet. And you sure as hell just pissed him off. You know i'm going to suffer for that..." she admitted, her gaze sweeping over Lesath before dropping to the floor between their feet.
Inwardly Lesath was grinning from ear to ear. How easy this woman would be to break beneath his manipulative and misleading ways. Already was she falling into his false charm and his charismatic personality. Emily did not know just how much danger she truly was standing before.
He guided the amulet back towards the woman's chest and his fingers traced along her stream. Touch was a beautiful thing for a Promethean and they were an intimate people. But Lesath was not a normal Promethean and he used it as another tool; another mislead.
"I was going to ask what brings a beautiful woman such as yourself here, actually," Lesath commented while drawing more near to Emily. "It is dangerous from a woman to be all alone and without escort," he added, still growing more close but only by fractions at this point. The hand that had toyed with the woman's upper chest now rose. A single, crooked, index finger was placed beneath her chin as if to guide her to meet his intense and entrancing gaze.
He guided the amulet back towards the woman's chest and his fingers traced along her stream. Touch was a beautiful thing for a Promethean and they were an intimate people. But Lesath was not a normal Promethean and he used it as another tool; another mislead.
"I was going to ask what brings a beautiful woman such as yourself here, actually," Lesath commented while drawing more near to Emily. "It is dangerous from a woman to be all alone and without escort," he added, still growing more close but only by fractions at this point. The hand that had toyed with the woman's upper chest now rose. A single, crooked, index finger was placed beneath her chin as if to guide her to meet his intense and entrancing gaze.
Emily's breath nearly froze in her lungs. Squeezing her eyes shut, she did her best to ignore the strange sensation that was a finger on her skin. A single finger that made her skin tingle and burn like a white-hot poker was being dragged down her chest. I won't listen Morromor.. she inwardly promised.
The moment the charmer's finger came into contact with her chin and she caught a very brief glance at his crimson eyes, her own hand rose and grabbed his wrist, roughly jerking it in one direction and pulling her head away in the opposite. Emily took a step backwards, grazing her back slightly as she forced herself into the wall behind her, her head still turned away. "Don't," she hissed, her fingers digging into the wall. How was this man so endearing yet so terrifying at the same time?! Surely he had no right to have both opposing qualities in such large amounts.
The moment the charmer's finger came into contact with her chin and she caught a very brief glance at his crimson eyes, her own hand rose and grabbed his wrist, roughly jerking it in one direction and pulling her head away in the opposite. Emily took a step backwards, grazing her back slightly as she forced herself into the wall behind her, her head still turned away. "Don't," she hissed, her fingers digging into the wall. How was this man so endearing yet so terrifying at the same time?! Surely he had no right to have both opposing qualities in such large amounts.
"Don't," Lesath repeated her plea while his smirk disappeared and was replaced by a disappointed frown. He tore his hand away from her grip and again closed the distance between their bodies. Lesath pinned Emily against the wall using his arms to place a hand against the wall to either side of the woman's face.
"Don't … what," Lesath said and then laughed a low and smoldering laugh. He leaned forward and took in the woman's scent which was refreshing from the smell of death and decay around them. Lesath came to Emily's ear and whispered to her.
"I merely wanted to know what you were doing. Are you afraid of me, Emily?"
"Don't … what," Lesath said and then laughed a low and smoldering laugh. He leaned forward and took in the woman's scent which was refreshing from the smell of death and decay around them. Lesath came to Emily's ear and whispered to her.
"I merely wanted to know what you were doing. Are you afraid of me, Emily?"
Emily attempted to twist away from Lesath, but between the wall and his frame, she was stuck with no room to move atall. What did he mean, afraid? Of course she was. She felt helpless without Morromor..."I..." her voice shuddered, getting caught in her throat, "No. Why would I be? A charming, intimidating man appears from the shadows during a ritual and now i'm pinned against a wall?..." she started, glancing at his eyes. Mistake. "..I...i'm fine," she stammered.
"You're afraid and I can smell it," Lesath replied in that same whisper in a figurative manner. Prometheans had no extraordinary senses, heightened or super sensitive. The man was merely playing on her immediate fears.
"If you are afraid … tell me to go away. Ask it of me and I shall give it to you. That is what I do for beautiful women such as you and if I may say," Lesath said coming to meet her gaze and hovering his face away from hers by a few precious inches," You are a fascinating example of the beauty that can only be found in women."
Those deep crimson eyes dropped down to Emily's lips and there was a moment in which it seemed that Lesath was going to place his own upon hers in an intimate embrace of their mouths. However, the Promethean only smiled that seductively charming smile and rose his eyes to meet hers once more.
"If you are afraid … tell me to go away. Ask it of me and I shall give it to you. That is what I do for beautiful women such as you and if I may say," Lesath said coming to meet her gaze and hovering his face away from hers by a few precious inches," You are a fascinating example of the beauty that can only be found in women."
Those deep crimson eyes dropped down to Emily's lips and there was a moment in which it seemed that Lesath was going to place his own upon hers in an intimate embrace of their mouths. However, the Promethean only smiled that seductively charming smile and rose his eyes to meet hers once more.
Emily's own ice blue eyes dropped, following Lesath's. She didn't want to ask him to leave, and had no intention of doing so. He had only just arrived after all, it would be rude to get him to leave. Flattery, however, was something that almost went in one ear and out the other. She had never heard it coming from a decent man's mouth, and so when she did hear a single compliment, it sent her into a state of panic. Lifting her leg, Emily stomped down hard on Lesath's right foot, hoping to twist under his arms in the slight alleviation of pressure and get some advantage in this situation.
Lesath grimaced and clenched his jaw tightly while Emily freed herself from the pin against the wall. The Promethean took a moment to compose himself and be rid of the stab of pain. Emily was not the first woman to not take well to Lesath but he had never failed in claiming one even if so. They always came around to him whether minutes later or years. Lesath was a plague on a woman's mind and he never disappeared from it.
"And spirit as well. I will behave myself from this point on," Lesath said while straightening his posture as well as his tie. The man cleared his throat and then turned toward Emily, facing her. Lesath's cat, Sirrah, had hissed when the woman stepped on her human's toes and she peered at the female human with disgust.
"Forgive me for my trespasses but I cannot help myself when I am in attractive company. Now, back to the topic at hand before I lost control. You may call me Lesath and I am more than pleased to meet such a talented woman with special gifts," the Promethean said while giving her a small bow.
His eyes never left hers.
"And spirit as well. I will behave myself from this point on," Lesath said while straightening his posture as well as his tie. The man cleared his throat and then turned toward Emily, facing her. Lesath's cat, Sirrah, had hissed when the woman stepped on her human's toes and she peered at the female human with disgust.
"Forgive me for my trespasses but I cannot help myself when I am in attractive company. Now, back to the topic at hand before I lost control. You may call me Lesath and I am more than pleased to meet such a talented woman with special gifts," the Promethean said while giving her a small bow.
His eyes never left hers.
Emily had only walked a few short steps away, and even after seeing Lesath's cool reaction to her evasiveness, she felt some level of guilt. "Forgive me," she started, all ten of her fingers tangling themselves in her skirt as she strained to compose herself, "I don't understand flattery. I have never been exposed to genuine compliments, Lesath." Emily almost sneered Lesath's name, his elegance and prescence putting her on edge. Even if he turned out to be someone in the slighest bit trustworthy, she still had to deal with Morromor's wrath later.
"Talented? Please. I'm merely a necromancer working for Morromor. It's my duty. I lack the talent, I am simply the wheels that keep his wants fulfilled," she described to Lesath, her eyes glancing down at the cat before returning to Lesath's. She was suprised, wether that be pleasantly or otherwise, that his crimson gaze hadn't moved.
"Talented? Please. I'm merely a necromancer working for Morromor. It's my duty. I lack the talent, I am simply the wheels that keep his wants fulfilled," she described to Lesath, her eyes glancing down at the cat before returning to Lesath's. She was suprised, wether that be pleasantly or otherwise, that his crimson gaze hadn't moved.
"You speak as if you are bound to this … entity, to this Morromor. Is this true, Emily," Lesath said while finding a surface to prostrate himself on, crossing a leg over his knee. Sirrah, the feline, had stalked her way over to him and leapt into Lesath's lap without hesitation. The Promethean began to absently stroke his long term companion.
"And do not ask for forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive, Emily. I will still say that you are talented if I please. There is no Promethean man or woman that I have seen which hold such skills as you do," Lesath admitted though there was no hint or even remote possibility that he was envious. His kind had much more … practical abilities through genetic mutation.
"And do not ask for forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive, Emily. I will still say that you are talented if I please. There is no Promethean man or woman that I have seen which hold such skills as you do," Lesath admitted though there was no hint or even remote possibility that he was envious. His kind had much more … practical abilities through genetic mutation.
Emily eyed Lesath carefully, as well as the feline that perched herself so comfortably on him. "I guess I must offer my thanks," she told him, rolling out a gentle, feminine courtsey. When she rose, she rose slowly, bringing her stoney glare to meet his. "You never told me, Lesath, what it is that you want from me?" Emily pointed out, taking a few deliberate steps towards him.
There it was; her confidence. It had faded in the momentary lack of awareness that led to her shock and the unforunate loss of control that had happened previously, but on return of her being able to make her movements at her own command, her confidence simmered back to life. Emily used both hands to pull her mass of curls behind her and let them go, feeling her dark tresses cascade neatly down her back.
There it was; her confidence. It had faded in the momentary lack of awareness that led to her shock and the unforunate loss of control that had happened previously, but on return of her being able to make her movements at her own command, her confidence simmered back to life. Emily used both hands to pull her mass of curls behind her and let them go, feeling her dark tresses cascade neatly down her back.
"That, my dear lady Emily," Lesath said while rising form the stone slab elegantly and with grace. He walked around the room, keeping a rather wide berth awe from the woman. The Promethean man took his time to lean his head down and place a kiss on the forehead of his pet.
"That answer will have to wait for another time. I do hope that you think of me from time to time," Lesath said from across the room. He allowed his gaze to trail over Emily once again before that smirk came back to touch upon his face.
"I have things that I must attend to but if you ever have need or crave my company," he said while gathering his cat into one hand and fetching out a business card with the newly freed hand. Lesath flicked it through the air and it landed on the altar Emily had been using not moments ago.
"You have my contact information and now know how to reach me," Lesath stated knowing that she would call upon him. They always did for he was a plague on their mind; a virus. It was always subtle at first but the curiosity, in the end, always won out. She would be thinking of him and Lesath knew this for fact.
"Do take care of yourself, lady Emily," he said with finality in his voice and then left the altar room without another word.
"That answer will have to wait for another time. I do hope that you think of me from time to time," Lesath said from across the room. He allowed his gaze to trail over Emily once again before that smirk came back to touch upon his face.
"I have things that I must attend to but if you ever have need or crave my company," he said while gathering his cat into one hand and fetching out a business card with the newly freed hand. Lesath flicked it through the air and it landed on the altar Emily had been using not moments ago.
"You have my contact information and now know how to reach me," Lesath stated knowing that she would call upon him. They always did for he was a plague on their mind; a virus. It was always subtle at first but the curiosity, in the end, always won out. She would be thinking of him and Lesath knew this for fact.
"Do take care of yourself, lady Emily," he said with finality in his voice and then left the altar room without another word.
Two hours later the remaining rubble had finally been cleared, allowing access to the altar. Baelin scanned the room, eying the various sigels and runes that dotted the objects scattered about. He could feel the dark energy that flowed through the area. Vile deeds had been committed here.
"Clean that altar..." he said to the acolytes. "Prep the sacrifice."
"Clean that altar..." he said to the acolytes. "Prep the sacrifice."
The other robed figures hurriedly scampered towards the altar with wet rags and sponges. Dried blood washed away in a stream of watery pink liquid mixed with dust and grime. Two others went back of the stairs.
A moment later they returned dragging a man bound by his wrists and ankles. Shrouding his face was a black bag that was tightened around his neck. Panicked muffled grunts rumbled from beneath the hood as the acolytes tossed pinned him on top of the altar.
Chains, laced with razor-sharp barbs, were shackled to his hands and feet and attached to the four pedestals surrounding the altar. An acolyte tore the bag off of his head, revealing eyes wide with terror and pain as he groaned from the blades slicing into his flesh.
Baelin lifted a gloved finger to his lips, and the man silenced.
"Peace, friend." he whispered. "You shall receive peace. When the last drop of your life blood leaves you, you shall know the comforting embrace of Darkness."
A moment later they returned dragging a man bound by his wrists and ankles. Shrouding his face was a black bag that was tightened around his neck. Panicked muffled grunts rumbled from beneath the hood as the acolytes tossed pinned him on top of the altar.
Chains, laced with razor-sharp barbs, were shackled to his hands and feet and attached to the four pedestals surrounding the altar. An acolyte tore the bag off of his head, revealing eyes wide with terror and pain as he groaned from the blades slicing into his flesh.
Baelin lifted a gloved finger to his lips, and the man silenced.
"Peace, friend." he whispered. "You shall receive peace. When the last drop of your life blood leaves you, you shall know the comforting embrace of Darkness."
The cloaked man raised his hands over the terrified man who lay spread eagle across the altar. A pool of darkness bubbled to life on the opposite side. With tendrils of wrath and vengeance, the darkness squirmed and writhed. A shape rose from the earth, engulfed in black flames, from the darkest depths of the Abyss.
"I establish this altar in your name, oh mighty Unweaver. May the blood of the unbelievers sate your thirst and grant you power."
From the swirling pool of darkness emerged a tall ebony obelisk. Etched into its surface were intricate yet sinister runes of death, decay, and hunger that appeared to have been carved with claws. An aura of terrible malice and despair resonated from the object.
Following the obelisk came a skittering serpent that slithered up the stony surface. Four toned reptilian arms gripped the edges of the pillar with razor-sharp demonic claws. Two leathery wings spread out from its body. Crimson runes glowed across the membranes of the wings as a long tail curled around the base of the obilisk. At its tip was a wicked stinger that dripped a thick black liquid.
A vicious snarl was imprinted on its maw as it solidified and turned to stone.
"I establish this altar in your name, oh mighty Unweaver. May the blood of the unbelievers sate your thirst and grant you power."
From the swirling pool of darkness emerged a tall ebony obelisk. Etched into its surface were intricate yet sinister runes of death, decay, and hunger that appeared to have been carved with claws. An aura of terrible malice and despair resonated from the object.
Following the obelisk came a skittering serpent that slithered up the stony surface. Four toned reptilian arms gripped the edges of the pillar with razor-sharp demonic claws. Two leathery wings spread out from its body. Crimson runes glowed across the membranes of the wings as a long tail curled around the base of the obilisk. At its tip was a wicked stinger that dripped a thick black liquid.
A vicious snarl was imprinted on its maw as it solidified and turned to stone.
"May this Altar of Blood give homage to your name, oh One God, and fill you with the life and souls of many sacrifices to come!" Baelin uttered as he reached into his cloak.
His hand emerged with a long jagged stone kris that glistened in the candlelight. In the glow of the runes it resonated with a sinister hue. Below him, the man whimpered as tears blurred his eyes.
"Accept this sacrifice from your most humble servant... Velheit ssavoit dovalru ma'aus dima!"
Baelin thrust the knife deep into the man's chest cavity. Blood spewed from the wound as he jabbed his hand into the torso. The man screamed from behind the gag before falling abruptly silent. Bones cracked and arteries gushed.
His hand broke free, gripping a lump of dark red flesh that dripped with the crimson liquid.
His hand emerged with a long jagged stone kris that glistened in the candlelight. In the glow of the runes it resonated with a sinister hue. Below him, the man whimpered as tears blurred his eyes.
"Accept this sacrifice from your most humble servant... Velheit ssavoit dovalru ma'aus dima!"
Baelin thrust the knife deep into the man's chest cavity. Blood spewed from the wound as he jabbed his hand into the torso. The man screamed from behind the gag before falling abruptly silent. Bones cracked and arteries gushed.
His hand broke free, gripping a lump of dark red flesh that dripped with the crimson liquid.
Blood drained from the corpse that lay limp on the altar. The runes across it glowed a demonic red as the life force flowed across them. Baelin gripped the severed heart tightly in his gloved hand, and the sacrificial kris in the other. His body shook, causing blood to drip more liberally across his robe. He let out a sigh of ecstasy, reeling in the fresh carnage.
Slowly, Baelin set the heart inside the maw of the stone serpent. A dull red glow resonated from its gullet. The organ shriveled, blackened, and turned to dust as it's energy was absorbed.
Slowly, Baelin set the heart inside the maw of the stone serpent. A dull red glow resonated from its gullet. The organ shriveled, blackened, and turned to dust as it's energy was absorbed.
Doc followed the sound further as he entered the Altar room...a place he visited for inspiration. He covered the light of his lantern as he saw people in cloaked black robes and a corpse in the room. He glanced up seeing a fresh spirt with a whole in his chest. "ripped out heart...Necromancers? more of them...hmph I thought the wards would keep people out." he thought to himself, he could feel dark magic at work.
The cultists were turned away from the door, so had not yet registered Doc's presence. Baelin turned around to his disciples and lifted his blood-covered hands, palms upward.
"With this sacrifice we invite the presence of the One God, the True God, into this place. He have torn down the pagan symbols that corrupted this sanctuary. Now we may bask in the Darkness in peace, away from the ways of the world."
"But sir." replied one of the acolytes. "We just killed this man! Wont the authorities come looking for him?"
"Fear not, brother." replied Baelin." For their persecution will only increase our power. We dwell in darkness, the origin of all things. None shall defeat us!"
"What are the words of the One God, honorable Living Shadow?"
"We must find other unbelievers to sacrifice to His Holiness, and swell our numbers. Pagans may come and seek to drive us out, but we must protect this altar with our lives!"
"With this sacrifice we invite the presence of the One God, the True God, into this place. He have torn down the pagan symbols that corrupted this sanctuary. Now we may bask in the Darkness in peace, away from the ways of the world."
"But sir." replied one of the acolytes. "We just killed this man! Wont the authorities come looking for him?"
"Fear not, brother." replied Baelin." For their persecution will only increase our power. We dwell in darkness, the origin of all things. None shall defeat us!"
"What are the words of the One God, honorable Living Shadow?"
"We must find other unbelievers to sacrifice to His Holiness, and swell our numbers. Pagans may come and seek to drive us out, but we must protect this altar with our lives!"
Doc listened to them carefully his scalpel in his hand as he resisted the urge to call all of them idiots. "ritual sacrifice...they are planning to bring about something...bad." he thought to himself. It was not uncommon for cults to come here. He often drove them out, most of the time they were just punk kids who thought it would be 'cool', when he showed them a walkind dead person or body parts they fled...but these were different. THey were....more than just a common cult. He looked at the spirits in the room and nodded, some he knew some he didn't He needed to get these men out of here. He placed a hand on his floor feeling a dark pulse as he sent one back letting the spirits of the room be shown, hopefully the less trained and newer members would leave from that. He had ease with using necromancy here...after all this was his home....or a part of it.
"Prophet!" cried out one of the acolytes, who quivered in fear. "This place is haunted by the dead! It is not safe here!" He attempted to flee.
"Cease!" Baelin thundered, lifting his hand. There was a powerful dark aura that surrounded him. Immediately, the acolyte stopped in his tracks. The robed figure vanished in a cloud of smoke, before materializing in front of Doc.
He glared at him from beneath the impregnable darkness created by his hood. Two ghostly gray eyes drilled into the man's soul.
"We mean you no harm..." he said in a soothing calm voice to the man. "We are merely weary monks seeking refuge to worship our deity as we please."
"Cease!" Baelin thundered, lifting his hand. There was a powerful dark aura that surrounded him. Immediately, the acolyte stopped in his tracks. The robed figure vanished in a cloud of smoke, before materializing in front of Doc.
He glared at him from beneath the impregnable darkness created by his hood. Two ghostly gray eyes drilled into the man's soul.
"We mean you no harm..." he said in a soothing calm voice to the man. "We are merely weary monks seeking refuge to worship our deity as we please."
Doc stood his ground as the man materialized in front of him, "if I had a nickel for everytime someone pops by from portal or just appears I could buy part of the city..." he thought to himself. Though he was glad he spooked one person, that always made him feel better....well sometimes. He felt the gray eyes drill into his dark tainted soul as he looked at him, "You invade my house, rip that souls' heart out and speak of deities." he commented as he nodded at the soul near by. "And I doubt you are refugees." he remarked as he stared back at him with his piercing black eyes.