Searching for a soul (private)

[Anonymous]

He was a man of few ideas and of few words. Kumori Umbra. A name he held as dear to him as he did of the memories of his wife, fuzzy memories that faded in and out of his mind. It was only when he wasn't struggling to recall anything, that the images faded back in again, grainy sepia petals that were as incandescent as the biting winds. What a meaningless life it was. To be raised back up after an accident, the details of which he couldn't even remember, and to have been reanimated when he sure as hell should've been dead.

And reanimated to what? A bloody shadow of a being, that's what. The number of times he'd raised his head to the heavens, and cried out bloody oaths. It wasn't the way of the warrior to commit suicide. Nay, the only conditions that accepted it were in the name of honour.

And so he was left to wander the bitter earth, searching for meaning in the life he hated and reviled with passion. Could he really think of himself as still human, when the spectrum of his emotions was so jaded to have been reduced to bitterness and hate?

In the black swarthy clothing that could be bandages for all he cared, with his cloak wrapped tightly around his body, Kumori made quite the formidable traveller. He almost always had his cloak pulled up, and as much of his face covered as possible. The sword he kept strung to his back, the heirloom of his family, one of the few artefacts that remained from his past.

What he really wanted to know was why he'd been remade the way he was. The magic that had reanimated him was shadow magic, and so thus, he'd become tainted, impure. A being with cells aligned to shadows. He heard whispers around him whenever he walked through a town- "shadow man, shadow spawn, the man who can change into shadows..." but he regarded the talk as much as he regarded the people. Quite the loner was he. He cared not for the aura of mystery that seemed to surround him and envelop him like a shadow, nor for his appearance, nor for anything, other than finding the meaning of his miserable warrior's existence.

So...after all of this, it came as quite a surprise to Kumori to find himself in the middle of a tropical jungle, on an island in the middle of nowhere. He was often deep in thought for days on end; he never knew where he was at all. Good thing no one had ever relied upon him for a sense of direction then.

Kumori cut his way through the jungle, using the swish and the slice of the motion of his silver sword as a means of mediation. It was quite therapeutic really. Nothing but the tropical voices- the bird shrieks, the natter of the monkeys, the whisper of the trees and the whistle of his sword as it sliced through delicious undergrowth.

He didn't know what he was searching for here, but instinct was the main driving force. Eventually, after a few hours of deep sweating, in which he still hadn't removed any of his clothing, Kumori came to a set of ruins. They were beautiful, pale stones that were draped in vines and years of neglect. History breathed the air, and the speckled light fell across the stone, warming the secrets that were kept locked in this arbour.

Sitting down on one of the ruins, Kumori removed a water skin and drank heavily, thinking back to the ship which he'd hitched a ride on, yet another ship where no one had paid any attention to him, as long as he'd kept the rats at bay. Imagine if his ancestors could see what he was using his sword for now!

((Hope this post was OK- sorry if it's too long, I tend to write long intro posts! Didn't include too much action, so you can respond as you see fit!))

[Anonymous]

Lazarus was never one too fond of sleep, but once every few weeks, he found it not avoidable. He disliked it so, because when he slept the jungle (quite accidentally) whispered lies into his pointed drooping-with-sleep ears. The warmth of the jungle was that of his mother curled ay his side, the rich scents of mango and sweet flowers were that of his sister's skin, and the rough but sanded stone of the temple floor was that of his father's hard un-kept scales. Lazarus would always wake expecting them to be there, suffering a few moments of sleepy confusion before reality seeped back into his mind.

No one was there; he was all alone. The temples and houses were not as grand as he recalled them, but crumpled and vine-wearing beasts huddled carefully against the overgrowth of the jungle. Lazarus did his best to upkeep them though, after all they were all that was left of the Extraho Liberi tribe.

But this time, it was something in particular that woke him. The moss under the scales of his underbelly hummed, the lithe baby-green vines at his finger tips murmuring in discomfort. Lazarus lifted his heavy head, mindful not to let his huge white elk-ish horns catch on any low hanging vines. The whole forest seemed to whisper to him that someone new was treading on Aura earth, and ripping up plant life as they went.  

Lazarus stood up with a cavernous yawn, showing for a moment the sharpness of his white pointed teeth, and the startling pink of his long forked tongue. His pale tan, near blond hair fell in a straight sheet down the pale expanse of his human spine, catching only slightly on the intricate tangle of his horns. His right hand rubbed the sleep from his eyes, while the left (elongated and scaled, claws on the tips, not a save appendage to bring near to his eyes) sat stretching and un-stretching at his side. At about his waist, his human appearance halted all together. He was built like a centaur, only with dragon instead of hoarse; His scales were smooth and glass-like, woven over his entire dragon half, save for his underbelly. They were clear, but shot through with lines of bright milky green. Under them, darker smoother scales could be seen.

The moss and little vines that carpeted the temple floor shifted about so as not to be crushed under his huge dragon claws as he walked. Horns includes, Lazarus stood an impressive seven feet tall, although the horns added at least a foot. The whole village was of course built for creatures his size, so he seldom needed to crouch through a doorway.

Stepping out into the speckled sun, his scales lit up brilliantly to greet the golden coins of light. Lazarus' green snake-like eyes scanned the surrounding area, until settling onto an unfamiliar form. Was he a hunter? A Pirate? All sorts of unsavory people stumbled across his island of Aura, so he had learned to be suspicious. Descending the huge slope of stone steps, Lazarus focused on the new arrival, trying to sense anything from him he could. He thought perhaps, there might even be more new arrivals on his island, but thought it wiser to focus only on the one at hand.

"What is your business here, traveler?" he asked once he was close enough, not in a friendly voice but not in an unkind one, either. His tail, a huge and powerful thing, swung leisurely behind his back legs as he waited for a response.

(( OOC- It seemed alright to me!! ^__^ I do really long beginning posts also, so no worries xDD So... I suppose we wait till everyone has responded and then stick to the same order we started in? I just wanna be clear so I dont mess up xD ))

[Anonymous]

Lyra was an exceptionally light traveler. You could tell that just by looking at her. The plain white dress that she wore, obviously second-hand from some one much larger than the nymph, was the first indication of the overal fantastic simplicity of her appearance. The wind tossed loose, airy cloth one way or the other to reveal the outline of her lithe form. The second indication was the fact that the only items of necessity she carried were contained within a small thin-leather bag slung over her shoulder and across her chest, its bottom drooping slightly for its few contents. The third indication, which caught most people in a very strange and disconcerting way, was Lyra herself, fair and wide-eyed.

What could you carry when you had - when you needed so little? Very few people could wear such an assured and open expression as Lyra. She wasn't sure if it was something to be proud of or not, and cared too little to ponder it much more than that.

At the moment Lyra was doing exactly that: not caring. She smiled up at the canopy above, sitting indian-style in the brush with her fingers playing at the surface of a stream to her left, and listened. Listening and looking were two of things that the nymph was absolutely best at.

She turned, eyes never leaving the great green canopy, and slowly extended her legs into the water. It reached past her bare feet and up to her ankles, its chill traveling up her legs and her back and fixing absolutely everything, it seemed. She gave a small shiver and a breathy laugh. This was not her river, but it was so reminiscent of home. She was a pale and almost ghostly figment against the warmth and activity of her surroundings, but as her gaze traveled with the trickle of the stream, rushing past the smooth pebbles of the bank with urgency, her features lit up, pink and lively. Lyra stood up quickly, balancing herself among the stones and began to walk. Her feet parted the stream with each step. Her pace grew in bounds, racing the flow of the miniature river.

Islands were marvelous, she decided then and there. Of course, islands were also isolated. It hadn't occurred to Lyra until the next few minutes of fleet-footedness had passed that islands were often isolated for good reason. The trees began to thin here and there. The padding and splashing of the fair-haired girl's footsteps slowed until their addition was absent from the constant din of the jungle.

The stream curved around what Lyra would describe, in her polished and eloquent way, as a very big rock. Or rather, a series of very big crumbling stones that were probably once part of a collectively massive...rock. Or ten. This peculiar break in the scenery appeared to be the small beginnings of something that had very evidently ended. Tilting her head to one side, Lyra crouched down and climbed up the wooded bank, propping herself up against one of the large cut stones and moving along its the other side by sliding her back along its smooth surface and taking side-long steps, her head tilted back to get a full view of the other stones stacked atop it in towering, precise order. She reached the opposite side of the strange pillar and pushed up off of it, venturing in past the very edge of the ruins. Lyra waltzed around each crumbling shadow of a structure as she passed, lips parting and grey eyes widening and wondering. With the stark exception of the tune Lyra hummed lightly, it was oddly silent here, where the vines and the leaves were slowly fighting for dominance against the echoes of the past. It was silent here, where there was supposedly no one.

[Anonymous]

The Image of Darkness hopped easily off the boat and surveryed the beach. It looked like someone was here before him, blast. Nobody was going to steal his prey. He sat on the beach waiting for dave to arrive. The skeleton had not been allowed on the ship so had had to walk underwater all the way from the mainland. He wondered how many skeletal fish would be swimming around the ocean, it was an amusing thought.

As he lay on the sand waiting, he got to thinking of his time as a child. His adoptive parents had never been sure whether he was a boy or not-nobody ever seemed to be able to see him properly. All they could tell was that he was darker than black, which made his black hair look lighter than what it really was. They had sent him to the Necromancer Academy mainly to get him away from the servents, who he - or she - loved to torment with images of total darkness (a colour darker than black and oposite to light). He grinned at the thought of them trying to explain that at night the world went dark.

It was a shame that he had been expelled, it wasn't his fault that the other boys were sexually attracted him, he hadn't goaded them - much. At the school he had been taught how to hone his unusual ability, often at the detriment of the teachers, and to become the nobelman he was meant to be. He didn't really want to become a nobel, they were so boring and always had to wear clothes. While trecking, people would come and go so he didn't have to worry about protecting their "innocent minds".

Dave finally walked up on the beach with bits of coral on his scalp and seagrass in his ribs. The Image of Darkness (or darkness for short) rasied an eyebrow at his longtime friend. 'Why the hell do you have coral attatched to your skull?'
'It looks like a crown, a bone crown.'
Darkness groaned, 'we'd best be off. I want that creature before anyone else.'

They plodded along the beach towards a small stream, the best way of getting to the ruins. There were a lot of birds singing and making a lot of racket; you didn't get that in Necromantia. he galnced over to dave and noticed the skeleton eyeing a particularly colourful, large bird. The bird would of course be dead then undead within a few seconds. he stood and watched the scpcticle of the bird having all it's flesh dried up so that only skin, feathers and bone remained. It was a clean job, Dave must have been practicing a lot while under the ocean. The undead bird flew to Dave's scapula and clung there.

'Impressive.'
'I could try killing you again if you wanted?'
Darkness laughed, stepping over a large vine, 'do you really want to try that?'
The last and only time Dave had tried to kill and resurrect him, he had been challenging Dave to attack him, he had wanted to see what it was like to die. Everything had gone black, no darker than black. It was not death though, just Darkness's magic turning back on itself. He had woken to see Dave passed out, his hands still clutching his head. The skeleton refused to say what happened to him but darkness guessed that he had been attacked by the...darkness within Darkness.
'Er... Could you control the er, "darkness"'
'Maybe later, when there is a team of necromancers ready to resurrect you.'

A few days later they managed to got to a large outcrop of rocks where the ruins would begin. 'Stay quiet Dave, no killing until we have the creature.' He looked over at Dave, who now had 2 undead and 6 skeletal birds clinging to whatever bone they could find... and a strange lizard curled up in his pelvis. He did not want to know why the lizard was chewing on Dave's pelvis.

[Anonymous]

"What is your business here, traveler?"

Kumori sat up straight, startled. It looked as though he'd fallen into one of his reveries again, when he just sat somewhere and became so deep in his thoughts that he lost all sense of time and place. This type of meditation, he supposed, was probably one of the techniques he'd learned as a warrior prior to this new phase of his bitter existence.

His eyes roamed his immediate surroundings, to the dew drop ferns, the lush leafy foliage, and to the blossoming vines that draped the ruins and trees. They took in the teeming life, the flittering parrots that splashed their gaudy colours across the jungle leaves, the beetles that skittered across the rich floor, and finally landed upon a being who was stood in a clearing, near to a shaded part of the ruins.

At the strangeness of the being's appearance, Kumori immediately stood up, hand rushing to his sword, but he restrained himself from instinctively drawing it. The being was much bigger than he was, and appeared to be much stronger. It wouldn't do to accidentally threaten a being who intimidated him by ten times.

"I have no business here that would cross paths with yours," he replied in a clear, neutral voice. When he spoke, Kumori's voice was quite normal sounding and not really scary at all. However, his tone was dull and dead, lifeless and lost. His voice had none of the sparkle and vibrancy of other voices, no hints of the man he used to be.

He felt his shadow shimmer slightly, a tiny indication of the darkness that lay within him. He'd never tried to use this magic before, wasn't even sure if it could be used. Ever since his reanimation, whoever it was had refashioned his body so it was a blend of human and shadow magic. Half human, half shadow.

Kumori Umbra. Shadow.

What the hell was his real name?!

Frowning, Kumori shook off this thought, and returned his attention to the strange half man, half dragon creature. The being was stood upon the ground, as if he owned the place. Well, Kumori was merely a stranger passing through, and didn't wish to start a fight. He had no idea of how territorial this being was; he'd never even seen one like this before! He'd await the being's response and if it was neutral, then perhaps there wouldn't be any trouble.

[Anonymous]

'Focus,' he told himself, 'focus on this... human,' (he ventured a guess, but suddenly he could sense a flicker of darkness in the being) but it was hard. The plants of the island whispered to him insistently, so much so his pointed ears folded down in an attempt to push away the sudden onslaught of sound. Never before had so many visitors come all at once! The bright river lilies murmured about a lithe creature skimming through the waters, while over their soft voice came the harsh shuffling of palm tree leaves, who spoke in sheer panic. This startled him so much Lazarus turned towards the side of the island that flattened into a white-sand beach, peering with slitted eyes into the shadows the tears tossed between themselves.

Something was there, something that bled a hostile tang into the rich tropical air. It put him on edge, so much so that Lazarus almost raised his clawed dragon-hand in attack, but then he remembered the creature close at hand, the one who would most likely read an attack in such a motion.

It was hard to concentrate, with the feeling of so many eyes on him, but Lazarus tried to compose himself, his powerful front legs shifting slightly. The human (creature?) before him rippled with some dark magic, and this tugged his attention more strongly then the hidden visitors he couldn't see.

"... Any business you have here would cross paths with me, traveler. This is my island, every breath of life here under my protection. If you plan to stay, kindly tell me of your purpose," his voice was quiet, not kind but not unkind, either. He kept up a neutral tone, not wanting to stir up an unnecessary fight.

Especially when there was so much unfamiliar life on the island.

[Anonymous]

Lyra sighed deeply as she sat down, elevated and presented about ten feet over the surrounding ruins, which were growing taller themselves the further she walked. She sat on the top platform of a grand post-and-lintel, appearing to section off the much larger, almost city-like center area of the ruins where the stones were arranged in a more monumental fashion and must have once served higher functions than the buildings in the outer-ring. Her legs dangled over the side of the raised platform on its two similarly shaped pillars, swinging back and forth very slightly. Blood trickled down her ankle, curving at her heel and surrendering tiny, bright crimson drops onto the churned earth below.

After the surprisingly short walk, even for any ordinary creature, the Naiad supposed that the edge of the ruins must have extended much further before but had since been overcome by the teeming vegetation which threatened its mark upon history daily. It was an easy, brisk walk for her.

So easy, in fact, that she'd had enough energy to impulsively seek out a better "looking place" by way of climbing the stone remains like some sort of playground. She had scrambled along the objects and more miniature structure abstracted from their original purpose by sheer decay but still bearing, here and there, the decorations and designs of some strange culture, and finally managed to reach the highest post in current view due to some luckily placed or overturned objects. Unfortunately, Lyra hadn't paid attention long enough during the fun little climb to prevent her ankle from being cut a bit on a broken or jagged something or other. The nymph hadn't even noticed the pain yet, too entranced by the new view.

Looking out through the natural windows the branches of the trees created, she could see by looking over her shoulder the framed tops of the smaller buildings back the way she had come for a good way until shadowed by the prevailing canopy. Turning back to face the new direction of the widening stream toward which she would continue in a moment, Lyra unstrapped her small bag and set it down beside her on the warm stone, its contents clinking brightly slightly. She laid back, the short width of the lintel platform allowing the length of her body to cross it and her pale blonde hair to fall back over the opposite edge. She reached over to her bag, lifted open its flap and extracted a glass bottle from it with two long fingers. Clasping it with both hands like a keepsake, she lifted the bottle to her lips and drank half the water it contained. Ordinary, very important and very specific water as it was.

She felt, then, as if there were others. A sharp breath and clearing of her pretty little head enlightened her to a certain conviction and destination in the flow of the stream below, grown from a trickling. She listened, eyes narrowing slightly.

Another few drops of nymph-blood fell to the ground, slowed and seemingly thickened now. Suddenly, Lyra sat bolt upright, lifted the offending appendage up straight while the other leg dangled still, and pronounced rather surprised, "Ow!"

Struck with a new bout of conviction, Lyra scurried off the platform and padded into the stream, her pace much steadier than before. She listened to the water as she walked, the feeling that something lovely (that is, something new) might happen creeping upon her.

[Anonymous]

OOC: Dave is an NPC, if you want to play around with him, feel free.

BIC: Dave was tugging at his shoulder as Darkness looked towards the creature and a vampire. What would a vampire be doing this far from Necromantia? Probably the same thing as him: capturing the half-dragon.

'What is it?' the Image of Darkness hissed at Dave.
Dave pointed towards a young sprite walking about the ruins. She wasn't his type but she was bleeding. Blood always got dave excited.
'You can have her after we capture the creature.'

He gestured to Dave and came up closer to the ruins, hiding behind whatever building would give him cover. He needed to know his way around if he were to capture the beast (his words, not mine). Much of the place was in ill-repair and vines controlled most of the buildings. Other than the two here, they were possibly the only outsiders to come here in centuries. It was a shame to remove the place's keeper but he had his orders. The jungle would have to survive without the half-dragon.

While lost in his thought, Dave had attempted to catch the nymph. He now had his arms around her. Dave never learnt.

[Anonymous]

((Hehe mdu, Kumori isn't a vampire, he's...well, he was a warrior who got saved by some kind of necromancer. The necromancer used dark magic to bring him back from the brink of death, which is why he's half man half shadow. Must get his profile up sometime!! >.<))

"... Any business you have here would cross paths with me, traveler. This is my island, every breath of life here under my protection. If you plan to stay, kindly tell me of your purpose."

"Would you believe me if I said that I have no purpose in life?" Kumori asked flatly, his eyes becoming dead inside.

He was still stood up, facing the being, completely unaware of anything else here, other than the great antlered being before him. The ability to bestow complete and absolute attention upon a singular point was another attribute, left over from his past life. It was the ability to tune out everything else, to focus on nothing but his line of sight, and must've taken years of training to master this level of meditation.

Kumori suddenly started, and shook his head, cursing himself inside. Once again he'd relapsed.

A light wind wound through the treetops, imparting a hush and a sigh to the leaves, whispering secrets that had no place in Kumori's mind. The shadows however, clustered around him, imparting their own frantic voices.

Stranger, stranger!

More strangers!

Danger, danger, life and death!

Brushing the thoughts away, Kumori dismissed the shadows, as he always did, refusing to acknowledge the very magic that had brought him back from the brink of death. For him, it was a case of, ignoring and disbelieving, but seriously, how long would he be able to ignore himself?

The wind continued to wander the clearing, caressing his cloak, and kissing the brim of his wide, flat hat. Kumori removed it in a gesture of politeness, revealing his dark, thick hair, that framed his face in swarthy locks. He clipped the hat to his backpack. Eyes resting on his sword once again, he raised his voice back to the being and spoke.

"Maybe you can tell me what my purpose is for coming here."

[Anonymous]

"Would you believe me if I said that I have no purpose in life?"

"Yes," Lazarus answered almost as simply, as if answering a query about the river water, or the thick placid sunbeams. 'Yes', as is having no purpose was something common to him, something as relateable as a cold wind or the feeling of thirst; something he knew, at a time, perhaps. He slowly blinked, the sun flashing green on the scales that lightly dusted his eyelids. "Your purpose...." he trailed off, unsure of what to call the creature before him, "... human? I couldn't tell you for sure. Some come here to hunt for treasure, some to hunt for me. Some come here my accident, and some come here to poach the animals and rip up the plants," as he spoke his attention did not wander idly but drifted slightly out of focus.

He had lifted his hand, his dragon claw that existed where it appeared a human hand should be, and held it aloft, palm facing the ground. Lazarus wore an idle smile as the dry trampled-flat ground below him erupted in fresh green grass, and then a small colorful explosion of tall beautiful flowers. The stalks stretched up to meet his waiting scaly hand, and he stroked them almost affectionately, the action appearing oddly gentle for such a deadly looking hand.  

"I can only tell you what others usually come here for... and not what you are here, traveler. But I can tell you I hope you adopt none of the reasons I have listed... because those who came with bad intentions are gone now," the finality of his words was more then a little unnerving. But he noted the human (?) had removed his hat, and was that not a friendly gesture? And so he returned with, "I... do think it is impolite to refer to you as "traveler" all the time... what is your name?"

Although, after asking the question, he hardly had the attention to pay to the answer. A flurry of activity burned on the edges of his senses (rather, the senses of the plants, the jungle, but those were linked to his own). The scent of blood rippled through his mind, and worry pierced his expression; his protective side showing. He turned (the little flower bed he had created shuffling away nervously to avoid being crushed under his massive back legs) trying to catch site of the wounded creature. The sinister presence he had sensed had shifted too, felt as if it had gotten closer. And not only that, the darkness that resided in the creature before him gave yet another demanding flicker.

"I apologize," he murmured, sorry to have his attention suddenly torn half away from the person he was talking too, his hind legs and powerful tail facing Kumori. "But there are other here... I believe them to be dangerous..." Lazarus peered over his shoulder at Kumori with one slitted snake-like eye, trying to read him, trying to divine where he stood in the chaos biting at his senses. How many humans had he known to lash out at him only when it was convenient?  But then, he wasn't a human... was he?

[Anonymous]

Lyra peered into the near distance where, through the thinning and younger trees, she could make out the emerging base of massive stone steps. She placed a hand at her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun, squinting a bit. The sound of the water echoed loud in her ears, intentionally drowning out the wincing pain in her ankle and magnified by her own previous attempts to determine the stream's direction.

A smile spread across her lips as shadows and small signs of movement through the leaves of a greatly overgrown brush that hid like a veil the base of the steps from view from where the nymph was approaching quietly through the wooded ruins. She thought there were two figures, one significantly larger than the other. Now many tens of yards away, what little Lyra could catch through the vegetation was definitely looking alive and sentient, sticking out against the vast gray and green of the surrounding area. Lyra poised one foot forward, looking toward a strange little thicket in a depression of the earth near the base of a tree that must have existed in its place long before the place had turned to ruin because it supported a section of stone wall, where the veil of vines thinned and provided a somewhat clear view out toward the base of the steps around other assorted buildings, though not nearly as well of the blurred figures in the near distance.

Unfortunately, whilst focusing on and allowing herself to anticipate things that were very much alive, Lyra had failed to notice the rather ecstatic approach of something...less so.

Needless to say, Lyra screamed. Now that was a telling indication of the direction of trouble if there ever was one. The abrupt feeling of enclosure, especially when accompanied by the distinct cold and smell of death, was certainly something new, as predicted. Lyra twisted her body violently in attempt to break away from the sudden grasp. She was weak but fast, seizing the benefit of the moment and practically ducking out of the bony arms with a push. She stumbled back, but caught herself against the huge raised roots supporting the greater tree's twisted trunk. Her wild eyes set upon the grotesquely animated skeleton, another small breathy cry of surprise escaping her lips at the sight, as well as the now sharp tinge in her ankle. She took a few jolted sidelong steps before turning to run, having trouble tearing her gaze away from the creature or getting her legs to mind her.

Islands were not so wonderful after all.

[Anonymous]

The Image of darkness swore. Now that the gigl had screamed there was no way of hiding there presence. He felt around for his pack then realised that dave had it. That damned skeleton. Sensing his irritation, a skeletal bird hopped onto his shoulder and squaked loudly. He left it be and hurried after the skeleton and his prey. He hurried over rocks and ruins to get to the annoyance.

He decided that the best way to shut the pair up would be to concuss the girl and pull Dave's head off. If he was lucky, he wouldn't need Dave's help in catching the half-dragon. Without the skeleton it would be much harder, for as annoying and unpredictable as Dave could be, he was an excellent fighter.

'Girl! Are you hurt?' he asked as he stood over where the crouching girl, 'Dave, give me the pack.'

Perhaps the half-dragon would come over and he could use this situation as a diversion. He rummaged in the pack for a cloth to tie around the girl's leg, which he noticed was bleeding, 'will you let me tie it or would you rather Dave get more excited?'

[Anonymous]

Kumori listened to the speech the half-man half-dragon creature made with a listless expression upon his face. True, his question had intentionally been rhetorical, and if he were back in the training grounds high up in the mountains, where the beautiful springs and the wild scenery were, then perhaps this could be a question that could be debated out for a few days. Could anybody else other than him decide what his purpose was?

It was definitely none of the things the being before him had just listed. Coming here was an accident though; the ship he was on had gone off course, so they had landed on a neighbouring island for a few days. When the tide was low, when the beautiful azure of the ocean had receded somewhat, then a sandbar became available that joined up the island where the ship had beached upon, to this island here. Kumori, being more of a person to stay around the fringes of belonging, had taken it upon himself to travel the sandbar and to walk in solitude, rather than watch the campfire dances and the smoky laughter.

His expression barely changed as the being raised a hand and showed an adequate control of nature herself. And in response to the tone in the being's voice, Kumori merely acknowledged that he hadn't become petrified, by inhaling a deep breath, a wistful sigh perhaps.

"I... do think it is impolite to refer to you as "traveller" all the time... what is your name?"

"Traveller is as good a name as any to call me," he said. "However others refer to me as Kumori--"

He never got chance to finish with 'Umbra', for at that very second in time, a scream erupted from somewhere not too far away. How did he know? Well, because the shadows had told him so, the shadows he continued to ignore and disengage with, whenever they tried to help him.

Strangers, strangers!

Danger, danger!

Death and life go hand in hand...

...not so far from where you stand!

Danger, danger!!

The tiny voices were so insistent, that he couldn't ignore them any longer. The shadows crowded around him, like squabbling unruly children, and in disgust, Kumori swept his hand out violently, as if to shake off their demanding flickers.

Kumori's attention was drawn back to the being, after what he'd just said. Eyes wide, he whispered, "So you feel it too?"

The tension was so deep, that without another word, Kumori drew out his sword. Locking eyes with the being, he nodded, and without another word he took off, leaping over rotting logs, and mossy banks, dodging fallen stones, and taking just enough care to not trip over any vines. He didn't look back, so he didn't know if the being was following or not. He could feel it growing stronger, stronger...

Round the corner he suddenly came upon the source of the despair, in the form of a nymph. Kumori, with his sword still raised, drew in a ragged breath and took in the situation. From where he was, it looked as if two beings were attacking the nymph. Without further thought, he sliced his sword through the air, striking at the first one, a lolling skeleton figure. Not even checking to see how deep his sword had cut, Kumori then swiped at the other being.

((Mdu, it's up to you how to respond to Kumori's attack- damage taken, how deep it cuts, or even if you dodge it.))

[Anonymous]

"I will call you whatever you wish to be called," Lazarus responded vaguely, a little relaxation seeming like disinterest, and a little tension seeming like readying of something wild, flickering against each other in his eyes and tone; whatever this was, was clearly not human and clearly not hostile, but something near by was. It tainted what would have been a new found sense of relaxation, and perhaps curiosity, staining his mood instead dark and uncomfortable. The scent of blood and fresh water was the very air he inhaled (just a little quickly) so strong was the scent. The flower he had called up from the earth was now woven with another pair of the same kind, into a small wreath which he placed lightly upon one of the sharp ridges of his horns. The heavy tropical breeze made it sway lazily.

The scream however, gathered his fractured attention into one burning focus. His insides twisted urgently, upon his face coming the fiercest expression conceivable. Lazarus would not ever allow such a voice to be to scream on his island. True, he had chased hunters away and chuckled at the shouts, he had hushed against the shriek of a leopard as he sliced it open, one day when bore was scarce. But the voice that screamed at that moment was such a frail and quailing sound, he knew it belonged to someone who had done nothing; the poor helpless sound. Lazarus would have time to muse over his own deep reading of such lamentable sounds as screams at a less vital moment.

He charged, not far from Kumori's left. The plants moved when they could from under his massive clawed feet, but the dead things and the slow things were pushed hard into the lush moist earth as he thundered by. Rocks and huge dead logs cracked easily under his feet like soft dead leaves. Kumori arrived moments before him, only because it took Lazarus a moment to stop each thundering foot. He haulted, assessing the situation for a moment, before his snake-ish emerald eyes settled on the poor wounded Nymph.

Ah, so that explained the scent of fresh water?

A fray was no place for such a creature, that was certain. And so, while Kumori stuck out with his sword, and the attention of the two other strangers was split, if not totally on the lashing, ripping blade, Lazarus walked carefully into the midst of the fighting. His   smooth green-scaled belly passed over the Nymph and settled above her, like a warm green storm cloud. He stood with his four dragon legs surrounding her, his body itself a shield for the poor injured thing. Then, bending only slightly at his human waist, he peered at the girl, and gave her a small friendly smile.  

'Are you alright?' his mouth didn't move but his voice spoke crystal clear, straight into her mind. This was a special ability of his people; a link to be shared with someone in need of protection. It was a little-known ability, because it was only a bond to be known between two beings, but Lazarus was never taught any better. Others of his species (if they still lived) would have blushed and muttered about his easy use of such a supposedly 'intimate' power.

Meanwhile, his attention (if not his eyes) was at least partly divided to the other three. Who where the dark one and the skeleton? They appeared to be the ones attacking the poor Nymph, but they mustn't have arrived only for that purpose, as Lazarus was almost positive the nymph had arrived shortly herself. He wanted to ask but opted for waiting, watching, seeing how they would react to Kumori's attack.

[Anonymous]

The nymph's eyes darted from the stranger to his creature, hovering threateningly while such a contrasting and very likely deceptive gesture of aid was being offered. Lyra's ankle twitched in an unnatural direction, causing her to drop to her knees in unison with a skipped beat of the heart. Her normally fluid movements and thoughts were jolted by the very appearance of such beings, instilling almost immediately within her an extremely bad sense about them. There was something about the man, so very dark, that made it difficult to settle her swimming grey gaze upon him properly.

"Nn..." Something about his presence flayed the light that filtered through the trees and plagued her with a feeling of void that she had never before experienced. Why was he here, in a place so wonderful? It was almost impossible to understand, seeming so completely ridiculous. Recoiling from the pungent feeling more than the questionable offer, she crossed her arms tight over her chest, holding at her shoulders and curving her back as the sound of approach sent ripples on the surface of the stream, thunderously attuned to the nymph. The depth of the cut on her ankle reaching up about two inches onto her lower leg was steadily becoming painfully apparent as the numbing affect of the water was conquered by distress.

Suddenly, two beings came into the clear, the heavily cloaked first launching forward in attack with impressive speed. The second, a great half-man and half beast the likes of which Lyra had never set eyes upon, moved over her and stood firm as a guardian. Lyra lifted her head, lips parting and jaw slacking softly in awe at the pillar-like, scaled legs surrounding. Placing both hands on the ground and leaning forward on her knees, she tilted her head to one side and openly peered up at the new face, friendly and certainly reassuring in addition to the formidable overall presence of the two. His eyes were slit like a snake's, fascinatingly reminiscent of the rest of his reptilian form. Lyra had seen strange people, but the pair were almost straight out of a story book as far as she was concerned. Her hands found her ankle instinctively as his simple question was presented crisp even over the violent clash so near to them, though the being did not appear to speak. She nodded, a ghost of her voice catching in her throat with a short little rasp. Passing her left hand lightly through the blood trickling from the cut, Lyra grabbed for her pack with the other.

[Anonymous]

'Suit yourself,' Darkness said. The girl was overreacting. Dave had only wanted to kill her, which barely hurt at all compared to living.

He rose to his feet to see the dragon-man standing protectively beofre him, 'ah yes. I was going to do this quietly but it appears I'm going to have some trouble. I have orders to have you taken to a nobelman on the mainland. Would you like to come with me or shall I have to take you down?'

He mock-saluted to the shadow. He had seen undead creatures before but this one was positively depressive. 'Greetings, I suppose you also came for the creature? Say, who was the man that revived you, I might know them?'

OOC: Sorry it's so short. How would you like to battle this out? Short or many posts long?

[Anonymous]

((mdu, you need to react to my two attacks on your skeleton and on your main character. Kumori has definitely hit the skeleton with his sword, and has swiped at your Image character- you need to decide whether or not that blow has landed, and how both characters will react to both blows.))

[Anonymous]

OOC: Sorry. :(

Neither Dave nor Darkness expected the attack. Dave, who was the first attacked, suffered a broken arm. He rubbed it as he scurried backwards a bit. 'Hey, what was that for?'
He pulled the arm out of its socket and placed it in his pack. He retrieved a long knife. It was a shame he couldn't just turn the shadow into a obedient skeleton. Skeletons were far better than shadows, 'I was only trying to kill her.'

Darkness was the second to be attacked so was not as surprised. He dodged the sword, only gaining a cut to the arms. It stung but it wouldn't impede him too much. Black blood flowed slowly from his veins, 'you'de better put that down before you do yourself some damage. I'm not here for you, or the girl for that matter.'
'Dave!,' he called. 'Throw me the second knife!'

[Anonymous]

((Don't be sorry, mdu, it's alright! I'm assuming that you want the things in both of your posts to occur, so I will treat them as one continuous post otherwise the time frames become real messy! XD))

"Say, who was the man that revived you, I might know them?"

Oh, the impudence! Kumori felt his blood boil, which is why, without further ado, he had attacked both the skeleton and the other being. That, and also the fact that there was a nymph who appeared to be in danger had been as much incentive as any.

"Hey, what was that for?"

"Insolence," Kumori spat, eyes becoming deep whorls of darkness. Even though the sun was shining, casting it's warm rays across the island as a fisherman casts his nets, there was still a slight drop in temperature. Kumori's quiet anger was sustained by a tiny but noticeable breeze. Unnatural, it wound it's way around Kumori, causing his clock to billow out, but only slightly, not enough for the others to notice much at all.

When his second blow had struck the other being, Kumori stepped back in case of retaliation, however none came. He didn't sheath his sword, kept his grip light on the handle in case it was needed again. The relaxed grip was to prevent his muscles from locking, which would decrease his efficiency.

"You'd better put that down before you do yourself some damage. I'm not here for you, or the girl for that matter."

"I will do no such thing." He spoke the words quietly, but every one of them was tipped with venom.

Kumori didn't know why he had reacted so violently, for he was but a shadow of his former self. In his mind, he had tried to build up an image of the man he used to be, and the man Kumori used to be would have reacted this way, for wasn't that a job of a warrior? To protect?

Using his peripheral vision, Kumori was aware of the half dragon moving at his side. The being was helping the nymph, and he felt somewhat thankful that she hadn't looked too badly hurt, although she was sporting a small flesh wound of some sort. Weighing up the situation again, he went through all the possible scenarios that could have led to this one, and in all of them, he came to the conclusion that the dark being and the skeleton were up to no good.

Something about that skeleton's grin really irked him, which was strange, for he had emotions akin to ice. Also, the dark one had said something about him being revived. How did he know? People couldn't tell, just by looking at him. Normal people couldn't. Normal people just seemed to feel an icy leaden coldness in their stomachs, if they were extremely sensitive. These two were much more sinister, that was for sure.

Half of him wanted to ask the dark being more, but, his other hand was itching to wield the blade once more. He would wait to see what the duo did next.

[Anonymous]

'So by process of elimination...' Lazarus thought to himself with a sudden chill, only to have his question answered before he even fathomed it. 'I have orders to have you taken to a nobleman on the mainland. Would you like to come with me or shall I have to take you down?' was what the sinister shadow-like creature had asked him. He wasn't shocked, per say, but a hunter had not come for him in at least a decade. He did however feel a small flicker of gladness for Kumori (who was apparently, another creature of darkness) because his enthusiastic fighting meant he could stand protectively over the poor injured nymph.

The girl seemed quite curious of him, he noted with a smallish smile, shifting his feet as she stood above her. But, as had become quite apperent, he couldn't simply 'stand' much longer. That ungodly skeleton creature seemed all to at ease with killing, and Lazarus was not about to simply let himself be captured.

'I'm going to pick you up with my tail, please don't be alarmed... and then hold onto my horns, because I'm going to start running,' his words whispered into the Nymph's mind as his long heavy tail dipped under his body, and scooped up her small form. He'd never dream of leaving such a vulnerable seeming creature behind.

"Unfortunately," he spoke to The Image of Darkness in a cool unfeeling voice "I can not leave this island, so you will have to return to your boss empty handed." Lazarus was no fool, he could sense power coming of the pair of sinister things in waves, and knew he could not fully concentrate on fighting if he were also concentrating on helping the little Nymph. He knew he had to get away.

'I hope you can handle yourself, Kumori. I have no choice but to leave, my apologies,' Lazarus' head throbbed briefly; switching the targets for mental speech was not something his power really supported, but he wouldn't just leave Kumori without a single word. 'If you doubt for a moment, run. They are strong, and I would be sorry to dig another grave here.' With those final words to Kumori, Lazarus turned, rearing on his hind legs to face the opposite direction more quickly, and began to gallop away at break-neck speed.

(( OOC- Isolde, I REALLY hope it's okay I kinda stole your character ._. if its not, please don't hesitate to tell me and I can try and fix it <33 ))