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Wednesday, July 30, 2014

The Killers' Mirth





 

 

 

The Killers' Mirth

Guild Wars of Cabina 

By J.R.Trollan















Pale rays of moonlight cut through the storm clouded night of Cabina, breaking the foggy darkness of the Deadwood night but doing little to the ghastly chill  that clung to the forest like a parasite to its host- an eternal cold, the ever present reminder of the legacy of Deadwood.  A thousand atrocities committed eons past had led to the morbid present of Deadwood; an ever present silence haunted the forest, the trees- frozen in time, a mere mockery of life once present, all life had fled its borders and only the Guild remained screaming a muted defiance to all that Deadwood represented.  In the dark of night, a shadow cut silently through the static mist that blanketed the grounds of the Guild. Cloaked in shadow, blade in hand, Ifay Frost strode through the night mist- the chill sleeping into his bones and his body registering its presence and ignoring it- there were far more trivial things to attend to. Heightening his senses by a subtle twist of carnus and shade afia, he was able to see clearer than most would in cloudless midday.  Frost was a mystery in a guild full of other mysterious elements; a man with virtually an untraceable past, he was rumored to have been trained as an assassin from the very moment of his birth by the Northern Queen, it was also rumored that he hailed from the old relics of Martius Deinan: an Assassin Guild more myth than truth. To his credit, Frost had held no claims to truth in such rumors but then again….never did he reject them.
Being one of the two who had returned with Troll Nihilis from the wastelands, no questions about his loyalty were in doubt and as with Frost, no answers were offered. A sudden flick, the faintest of sounds brought Frost to a halt- his prey had been wonderful so far, he almost felt sorry that they’d made a mistake-probably a rookie amongst the group- so far, he had struggled to pick up their trail for twenty parts of a minute since splitting with Cruz. That was a record time for anyone to put him off for-they should be proud-. Casting off his shadow cloak, he unsheathed his ebony clad long sword, felt its balance sit comfortably in his calloused palm, let his fingers find their notches in the horse-hide grip and slashed downwards – cutting through the mist as the blade hummed a hollow tune. A satisfied smile crossed his dark features- Wrath felt good in his arms tonight, the sword was not sentient but it lusted after blood like a northern fanged Faethra Wolf.
Silent as the wind and as deadly as what it could conceal, Frost tore into the night.    

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 The Falling Sleep...Odd name for a technique mused Ned. A millennia of secret shadow afia assassination techniques known only to the most elite of Shadows' children, swift in execution and ruthless in precision. Ned Cruz D'la Grey had met a Shadow spawn once before and not on congenial terms, he hadn't been impressed. A side step let him evade the multiple shadow blade illusions that caused the same mental damage their  physical counterparts effected. His hands in a blur of motion pumped twice and two figures dropped to stone, a coal dagger embedded in between now lifeless eyes. He had to hand it to these guys, between their sloppy team work and poor skill perception they knew their stuff. The Watcher had laid several layers of shadow afia bindings strong enough to immobilize a small Hedran bull but Hedran bulls didn't have his gift, he had spared the traps a few minute parts of his concentration just enough time however for the four Shadow spawn shade-lurking to emerge and carry out their technique. Noting the impending danger, he had acted reflexively, no that would be a lie, he had acted out of habit and he hated times like these when he had to depend on his cursed ability to rescue him from deaths' rotting clutches. However, those times had been on the recent increase since joining the Deadwood Guild, a constant reminder of just how dangerous the life he had choose to live could become. Once in awhile, he'd fancy himself buying a small cottage in the outlands, finding a wife and raising a goat farm or cultivating crops; the good easy peaceful life but no, he had to be born with these eyes. These accursed eyes that nothing could hide from, even now he had seen several weak points in their chosen pattern of attack- The cardinal execution techniques, a simultaneous attack from major cardinal points; north, south,east and west and depending on how good they were, their margin of error and deviation would be somewhere under zero point one percent. However, such margins and figures meant little to Ned as his eyes plotted out several shortcomings of the attack, his body had been in motion before his eyes finished their transmission. Dispatching the southern and eastern assailants with daggers, he dropped on all fours assuming a squat, sent a stream of afia energy pouring into his thighs and winced as muscles screamed their protest at the excess inhuman strength. Sights locked on the impending  northern and western attackers, he released the pent up energy and felt the joyous relaxation of tendons and ligaments as they exploded in a wave of inhuman energy thrusting him forward in a furious blitz. Twisting his body while riding the wave, he was in their midst within a thought- his afia enhanced fists found poorly armored flesh and punched through, breaking bone to organs beneath. Still spinning, his momentum lifted the body along flinging it furiously into the path of the northern assailant, a sickening thump ensured as rapidly accelerating mass met accelerating mass in a fleshy collision of meat and bone. 
Grunting as always from the use of Carnus-Shadow afia, Ned carried out a status check; he was at thirty percent, stained with blood and pieces of what he guessed was lung and kidney, a finger throbbed probably broken, where he had awkwardly applied Carnus afia to punch through the watchers' skull earlier and he was hungry. Grunting and surveying the carnage, he made a mental note to remind the necromagu that knew materials were available and he melted into shadow.   

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