then let the trumpet sound - open

[ostercelba]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=eeeeee][atrb=width,500,true] [STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; border: 10px solid #025185; float: left; margin-top: 20px; margin-left: 20px; margin-right: 5px;][/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; margin-top: -2px; width: 410px; color: #585858;]— STAND FOR YOUR OWN.[/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; font-size: 20px; margin-top: -6px; margin-bottom: -3px; width: 410px; color: #585858; letter-spacing: -1px;]UNWIND YOUR BLOODY FLAG.[/style] [STYLE=text-align: justify; padding: 5px; border-left: 7px solid #025185; border-top: 5px solid #025185; background-color: #f3f3f3; width: 400px; font-size: 10px; color: #585858; margin-left: 20px;]BEND IT TO OUR ALL, OR BREAK IT ALL TO PIECES.The evening sun burned brightly in the sky above. The crowned spires that climbed ever higher from the base of the city blazed brightly, like beacons, far above the shingled roofs of lesser structures. People moved easily about along cobbled streets, a general cacophony rising into the air as they went about their daily business. It was another day of gilded bliss. Wealthy men did barter and bargain above, while the baser and beastly fellows plied their trade beneath city's foundation. The only paved roads in all of Deflou Spero lead here, to Skara, the seemingly majestic capital of the kingdom. A common jest of the many churls who do dwell beneath the cobbled avenues, "See you in to merchant quarter and soon you'll be seen out of your billfold." The meaning is twofold and in reference to not only the expensive shops in the aforementioned quarter, but also to the rampant cutpurses. The policy of the people's dear king has done but little to alleviate the rise of such villains and has in its stead encouraged it through the sin of apathy. Thus the scene is swiftly shifted to the city's gates. In owing much of their design to the pomp and flair of the city, these portcullises were delicately wrought with extensive scrolling. The intricate work must have had taken nearly as long as the simple forging of the gates themselves. Yet, in Skara, outward beauty was always used to conceal the darker truth. The vanity of it all sickened the rider whose steed trotted forward directly. The rider's mare was brown, though dappled with white, and looked to be a fair animal for travel; surely purchased for such endeavors. The rider himself was clad in hues of brown and gray though they bore a shimmering quality. Blonde hair hung about him, pulled loosely behind his head, though the occasional strand did hang carelessly. A rather unremarkable fellow except for the strange intensity in his soft blue hues that focused directly upon that gate. The guards, lazing in their elevated posts, paid the man little heed as he passed beneath them. Through throngs of people did this man ride, ably guiding his mount through the controlled madness. His right hand held firm upon the reins while his left gingerly clutched a strange horn that was secured about his neck with leather cord. Fashioned from bone of some creature long since dead, it had but only one simple marking upon it; a crude, yet recognizable sunburst. Time elapsed, and the rider soon entered the market square, where men and women of all walks of life did attend to their duties. Without warning, this strange fellow moved this horn upon his lips, and blew a frightful blast from it. The explosion of sound drew great attention from those, but the man was unsatisfied. Thrice in total did this horn blow, and nearly all of those within the square did now take heed, some mesmerized while others visibly shaken. Seeing his opportunity, the figure spoke, his voice deep. "What say you, men and women of Skara? Does the price of bread lighten your hearts?" A known issue, that with the increase of bandits and whispers of rebellion, the local economy had suffered. A few people gathered and shouted in concordance, many stayed silent. Regardless, their attention held still. This rider had also now drawn the notice of the guards who now paid him heed and slowly moved to his direction. The rider responded, lightly pressing the flanks of his horse, spurring it in a slow course away from them. People divided, making way, as his mare continued. "And what of your king? Do you think his larder deficient as yours? Do his children go starved as yours?" More cries yelled out, murmurs of agreement sounded. The guards hastened their pace towards this troublemaker but the mass of humanity made it difficult for these foot soldiers to reach their quarry. Redirecting his steed, the rider continued. His voice was clear above the rising din, a crazed look his countenance did portray, yet he continued. "The guilt upon our good king's head is pronounced! He sits upon his throne, denying his own while offering naught but crumbs!" The temperament of the crowd was nigh boiling. Guards from other districts poured in from side streets in avenues, a possible riot brewed. Foot soldiers were now rapidly closing in on the speaker's position, crudely knocking peasants from their feet. Their actions now drew the attention of the crowd, the rider gestured towards the brutes who hastened to him. "You see now the limits of the king's decency, his lack of regard for his people!" A guard snatched the reins of the rider's mare. It neighed, shaken from the palpable anger of the crowd. The rider smirked, his hand which had been upon the horn was now clenched around the hilt of blade, encased in a wooden sheath. Wealthier citizens in the square began to migrate towards the avenues leading out of the market. Before the guard could seize the rider, an old women smashed a clay pot upon his helm. Stunned from the assault, the guard spun his hand lashing out, battering the probable grandmother's face. "Rouse yourselves, I pray thee. From out of this darkness, your salvation shall come!" That was when the riot started. There were many guards now, too many for those gathered, but the catcalls and the occasional launching of a vegetables towards the assembled soldiers still continued. The rider himself, unbeknownst to many, began to slip away, dismounting from his steed. Only those who paid close attention could see his figure slowly dissipate into a wisp of blackening smoke and then see him appear from thing air a hundred paces from the spot, well behind the line of guards dispersing the masses. At a leisurely pace, he did now maneuver towards the gates, but had one paid close attention? Had not been swept up in the popular fervor which was now being subdued by iron hands? .[/style] [style=font-size: 10px; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE BY SAMARECARM OF OTE + BTN[/style]

[gunny]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,415,bTable]

[atrb=style, background-color: #D0C6A4; border-top: 5px solid #75531E; border-bottom: 5px solid #75531E;][STYLE=border: 4px solid #75531E; height: 100px; width: 100px; margin-left: 15px; margin-bottom: -33px; margin-top: 7px;][/style][STYLE=float: right; width: 277px; font-size: 40px; color: #75531E; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; margin-right: 15px; margin-left: 123px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: -45px; letter-spacing: -3px;]Death is a virtue[/style][STYLE=background-color: #EFE9E0; border-top: 4px solid #75531E; margin-right: 15px; font-family: arial narrow; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: -9px; margin-left: 123px; padding: 5px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; color: #75531E;]Life is but an illusion[/style] [STYLE=margin-right: 15px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 15px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; background-color: #EFE9E0; padding: 17px; color: #3C2E16; margin-top: 8px; opacity: 0.9; border-top: 4px solid #75531E; border-right: 1px dotted #9D6F25; border-left: 1px dotted #75531E;]The day was nice at the moment. There was bird song in the sky, and the sun graced Jesu with its kind waves of heat. Although that was when you looked closer. What the day was actually like was much different. The fumes from blacksmiths and other vendors filled the air blocking all chances of a glimpse of sunlight. The birds were on the ground feeding off of crumbs dropped by messy eaters, and the sound that you could of heard was blocked by the busy streets full of people and shop venders a like. All in all. Pretty shit. Jesu however was still having fun. When I say fun...well the situation was quite unlike any other. The man was running out of some strangers house trying to get his armour on, all the while a small angry man wielding a big knife was yelling words that weren't all to kind. Yup, a typical day for Jesu, after waking up in some girls bed, he went downstairs to get some milk...a found a father waiting for him. Rushing upstairs he got his stuff and ran like the wind, all the while laughing his guys out. He heard a something from the women that sounded like, 'I'll meet you again' but then again it could easily have been 'turn him into meat'. The little facts didn't really matter at this point. Jesu had safely made it out the door and would, in all likelihood not return. He knew by the time of day that the Heir wouldn't be in any danger, so he set about the town to find breakfast, or lunch. Whichever one was more conviniant. That was until he heard the horn blows. Typically horn blows meant trouble, do he rushed there. A Guardian always turned favours towards his side, especially when it was Jesu. He strapped the gauntlet on as he ran. He saw the horse first, a dark majestic beast. Then the eccentric rider. Looked like a prat to Jesu if he was truthful. He was spouting some nonsense after lack of food and other such crap. Jesu approached. The people moved as they saw him. They knew Jesu. They knew if they got in the way they'd get hurt. They knew this guy was most likely a rebel. They knew Jesu hated rebels. They knew all right. The small fight back would end there. Demonsbane: SPLICE Jesu's fist erupted into blue tendrils. He smashed his fist into the floor creating an almighty loud noise and silencing the crowd. The guards smirked to themselves, and backed up a little. The crowd wouldn't misbehave with a Guardian about, and especially not the Heirs Guardian. When the man came to dismount and disappear, and then reappear later. What the fuck was that? Black smoke? Smoke bomb? A ninja? Slightly confused but still upholding his bravado, Jesu clapped his hands and followed after him, the crowd parted to let him through. "You know good Sir that was a roaring speech. Absolutely amazing. I have to disagree about bread though. I find the price reasonable, and I say to these people. You want bread? Have some, it's on me. And the King! Oh our good old King! His larder certainly is full" he winked at the man and gestured with his hands, indicating a large stomach, "if you know what I mean." He laughed to himself, and snapped his fingers at some hereby guards signalling for them to come closer and lend aid in case there is...trouble. "The King may be what he is. But the Heir will come next. And no one knows the Heir like myself, if you dare attempt something to usurp his throne, well, you wouldn't even have safety with the Sisk or Elim councils. If your a normal man making his point then you have made one, and the people will agree with me I think, we will wait, and then we will live in happiness, I bet my honor as a Guardian on it. However if your a rebel, then you may not leave, make a choice good sir. Before I'm forced to make it for you." Jesu snarled the last point. This scum ruined his day. He wasn't going to let that go lightly. WORDS! 0<X<10000 TAGS! Rebel Leader NOTES! I WILL SMITE YOU DOWN. Give that a go ;P let's see what becomes of this encounter, I believe Jessi will appear too yes? Then Jessi can be all like BOW NINJA, and I'll be all like GUANTLET BADASS. and such...... [/style]

[STYLE=width: 400px; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; color: #75531E; letter-spacing: 2px; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: -4px;]made by kiwii at btn & ote![/style]

[ostercelba]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=eeeeee][atrb=width,500,true] [STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; border: 10px solid #025185; float: left; margin-top: 20px; margin-left: 20px; margin-right: 5px;][/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; margin-top: -2px; width: 410px; color: #585858;]— OR WHAT ELSE FOLLOWS?[/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; font-size: 20px; margin-top: -6px; margin-bottom: -3px; width: 410px; color: #585858; letter-spacing: -1px;]BLOODY CONSTRAINT.[/style] [STYLE=text-align: justify; padding: 5px; border-left: 7px solid #025185; border-top: 5px solid #025185; background-color: #f3f3f3; width: 400px; font-size: 10px; color: #585858; margin-left: 20px;]SCORN AND DEFIANCE, SLIGHT REGARD AND CONTEMPT.There was always one, at least one, and by that he referred only to fools. This boy, talked, but the words were trite in his ears. He continued to move towards the gate, unabated still. Yet, as this man continued to wax about the very glaring issues he had just addressed, a phrase struck him. His mouth tightened as the words replayed again in his mind. "I bet my honor..." His mouth tightened, the muscles in his face strained, his mind filling with rage. Perhaps his quick trip through the realm of the dead had sparked the terrible madness that had but just recently lain dormant. His forward motion stopped, the wisps of dust settling about his weathered sandals. His left thumb pressed forward, clicking the terrible dark blade at his side forward. Only but an inch of that fearful blade's strange metal was shown. " Like an effete cur you dine upon the scraps of your decadent master. You dare not, for shame, speak of honor!" His head canted to the left, peering at the fellow from the corner of his eye. Visible rage and a touch of delirium showed in his countenance. His blond hair hung about him now in a wild manner, seemingly transformed from tidy to unkempt. Oster's face flushed, a bright shade of crimson now decked his pale skin. His right hand now firmly clenched the malevolent blade at his side. Tension was clearly visible in the whole of his body. He seemed coiled, like a dread serpent. "Make a choice good sir, before I'm forced to make it for you." He sneered, his lips curled, revealing his teeth. The darkness in his own soul seemed firmly in control. Yet his head shot straight forward again, giving this figure opposing him no sight but the rear of his head. Perhaps he sought to compose himself? In truth, his brief lapse of sanity had come to an end. More reserved was his nature now, and he spoke. "An oath of mickle might. I dare say you have not the will for those terms. You surely jest, with the stink of harlots hanging heavily about you. Your coin seems spent only in taverns and has little use for the bread that a starving child does so desire. No, your Fabre masters, like sand upon the beach, shall be swept away at the next tide. This, I do proclaim." His legs pressed forward again. This man with eloquent tongue most assuredly believed that he would, with ease, pass through the city gates with little interruption from this riotous youth or not. Had maturity vanished in this woe-begotten times? Much correction, he thought, must be bestowed upon this land else it crumble into its origins. [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE BY SAMARECARM OF OTE + BTN[/style]

[gunny]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,415,bTable]

[atrb=style, background-color: #D0C6A4; border-top: 5px solid #75531E; border-bottom: 5px solid #75531E;][STYLE=border: 4px solid #75531E; height: 100px; width: 100px; margin-left: 15px; margin-bottom: -33px; margin-top: 7px;][/style][STYLE=float: right; width: 277px; font-size: 40px; color: #75531E; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; margin-right: 15px; margin-left: 123px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: -45px; letter-spacing: -3px;]Death is a virtue[/style][STYLE=background-color: #EFE9E0; border-top: 4px solid #75531E; margin-right: 15px; font-family: arial narrow; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: -9px; margin-left: 123px; padding: 5px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; color: #75531E;]Life is but an illusion[/style] [STYLE=margin-right: 15px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 15px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; background-color: #EFE9E0; padding: 17px; color: #3C2E16; margin-top: 8px; opacity: 0.9; border-top: 4px solid #75531E; border-right: 1px dotted #9D6F25; border-left: 1px dotted #75531E;] This guy was just, just wow. Bewildering to a unbelieveable state, he could take the place of the undermarket nut case and no mistaking. Jesu seriously couldn't decide what to make of him. If he was truly insane then he didn't really want to hurt him, that would be mean and uncalled for. But that move he used before. That was no normal move, he just disappeared, it seemed fitting for an assassin. The words he spoke too. They were words only a rebel could mutter. He had disturbed the people, insulted the royal family, and on top of that insulted Jesu. This bitch was going without a fight. Jesu flexed his arms and tenced his muscles, he stretched parts of his body while walking towards this slightly eccentric man. He saw the blade, and the glinting metal sticking out. A katana? Well that was unusual but not unheard of. Jesu's own weapon was wicked looking and had no need to be hidden. Summers Wrath was a weapon not to be hidden, and if used, it was used properly. People had already started gathering, ready for the upcoming fight. He saw people he recognised from the undermarket scuttling around taking bets. The odds were in his favour, but no doubt some idiot will think this unknown man will defeat a Guardian of the Royal Family. Jesu signalled for some guards to surround him, the city gates began to close, "leave a gap in case this rebel dog remembers what he is and decides to run." Jesu ordered the men on the gate. There were six regular guards surrounding the man, they all had long pikes as weapons, although most had short swords sheathed in case they lost the pole arms. "Feel free to arrest him anytime you want." A nice test for the stranger, so Jesu could gauge his strength, and see how he fought. Know ones enemy. The man should be lucky these were just guards with no special training. If they had even one Royal guard, he would be in trouble, what can you do though, they were spread fairly thin. Jesu was here however, and that made it okay...as long as these guys didn't die. "You have angered me Rebel, now come in quietly or face the Summers Wrath." Jesu smirked, he hoped it was the latter. WORDS! I lost count at 6 TAGS! Aria NOTES! RUMPY PUMPY [/style]

[STYLE=width: 400px; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; color: #75531E; letter-spacing: 2px; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: -4px;]made by kiwii at btn & ote![/style]

[ostercelba]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=eeeeee][atrb=width,500,true] [STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; border: 10px solid #025185; float: left; margin-top: 20px; margin-left: 20px; margin-right: 5px;][/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; margin-top: -2px; width: 410px; color: #585858;]— OH LET THEIR BODIES FOLLOW MY DEAR LIEGE[/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; font-size: 20px; margin-top: -6px; margin-bottom: -3px; width: 410px; color: #585858; letter-spacing: -1px;]WITH BLOOD AND SWORD.[/style] [STYLE=text-align: justify; padding: 5px; border-left: 7px solid #025185; border-top: 5px solid #025185; background-color: #f3f3f3; width: 400px; font-size: 10px; color: #585858; margin-left: 20px;]FOR MANY A THOUSAND WIDOWS SHALL THIS HIS MOCK. Placid ignorance was all he offered this boisterous youth. Silence was all that he would present now. Several armed guards scurried about him, forming a loose circle. Their pikes were swiftly lowered upon his person. The dull metal points steadily compressing the area in which he had to maneuver. Oster's hand would be forced, as it ever was. As the circle of iron pressed closer, he peered into the eyes of the guard which directly barred him. A man not much older than he, with his own unique perceptions. Perhaps this was his means to furnish his table for his family, if he had one. There was only so much one can pry from another's eyes. Yet Oster was not looking for this man's personal histories. He was looking for a glimmer of uncertainty, a quick glance to his comrades or fresh beads of sweat forming on his brow. He saw neither those nor any other indication that this one man out of the six before him feared death. If only this guard knew the righteousness of Oster's cause, then this expense of blood may have proven unnecessary. These thoughts now revealed, there was a lack of pity in his own eyes. A trumpet sounded in his head, the call to war was issued. Decisive action must now be brought. His thumb clicked the hilt of the blade forward again, just an inch. The metallic snap drew each of the guard's attention, their bodies tensed as their weapons slightly trembled. One could hear a pin drop, waiting for the ensuing turmoil. With stoic gaze upon his visage, he took one step forward. It was over for the poor man within a few short seconds. In one fluid motion, Oster's right hand unsheathed Nupalah. His left hand soon clutched the hilt beneath his right as he took his second step, dipping his shoulders to the right to avoid the pikes on that side. His hips rolled forwards and with great upward momentum he pressed his own blade into the underside of the aforementioned guard's pike, knocking it upwards. The smoothness of this action was not the work of an unskilled vagabond, but by a man who clearly had formal arms training. As the man's unwieldy pike rose, Oster took two steps forward, closing the distance between he and that same guard which had held his gaze earlier. Before this man could drop his pike and bring his own short sword to bear upon him, Oster had reached that critical distance that brought the man within reach of his own weapon. One slash, two-handed, was brought diagonally across the man's lower body. Unable to defend, the dark blade greedily ripped through the guard's armor and uniform, drinking the red flows of blood that poured from the man's left upper thigh and right knee. Enough trauma was caused for the guard to sink downwards, his footing lost for brief moment. In that moment, Oster had already pushed his foot across the man's slumping figure. Bringing his other leg across in the same fashion allowed to execute a splendid spinning gambit. Nupalah tore through the flesh and cartilage of the guard's neck. His head tumbling forwards under its own weight as it rolled haphazardly towards Oster's original starting position between the circle of pikes. He stared briefly at the five remaining guards. The entire sequence took less than three seconds to perform. A torrent of crimson spouted as the rest of the guard's body collapsed forwards. The katana was sheathed as the corpse smacked with a dull thud on the cobbled ground, now stained with this man's claret. A grim look, though devoid of pity, was upon his countenance. He turned, giving his back to the remaining guards and loud-mouthed youth. Even as the gate closed, he seemed quite confident he would leave unobstructed. [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE BY SAMARECARM OF OTE + BTN[/style]

[gunny]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,415,bTable]

[atrb=style, background-color: #D0C6A4; border-top: 5px solid #75531E; border-bottom: 5px solid #75531E;][STYLE=border: 4px solid #75531E; height: 100px; width: 100px; margin-left: 15px; margin-bottom: -33px; margin-top: 7px;][/style][STYLE=float: right; width: 277px; font-size: 40px; color: #75531E; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; margin-right: 15px; margin-left: 123px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: -45px; letter-spacing: -3px;]Death is a virtue[/style][STYLE=background-color: #EFE9E0; border-top: 4px solid #75531E; margin-right: 15px; font-family: arial narrow; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: -9px; margin-left: 123px; padding: 5px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; color: #75531E;]Life is but an illusion[/style] [STYLE=margin-right: 15px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 15px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; background-color: #EFE9E0; padding: 17px; color: #3C2E16; margin-top: 8px; opacity: 0.9; border-top: 4px solid #75531E; border-right: 1px dotted #9D6F25; border-left: 1px dotted #75531E;]Jesu watched the events unfold with a sickness in his heart. People lived their lives in an indifferent manner, just trying to get by, why did people like this try to screw all that up by rebelling. Was it not possible for everyone to just get along? Well, the answer was clearly laid out before him. No. It was not possible. It was about as likely as a humourous Sisk. It may sicken his heart. And drench him in sorrow. But his anger was the most prominent emotion. But then, none of those emotions mattered, for he was swept by the calm that was beaten into him. There is a time and a place for emotions, and that is not on the battlefield. So he tucked them away in his mind, to be opened another time, and then he would mourn the passing of guards such as these. The intruder moved with such a fluid pace that it was almost hard to keep track of his moves. He so easily cut through a, not fully trained, guards thigh muscle. Dropping him like a stone. The screech the man made was dreadful, like a harpy, or a gorgon being slain. Truly it was the stuff for stories an nightmares. The second man dropped without a sound his head practically rolled on the ground. Slice. Cut. Blood. Dead. It was disgusting, these men...died so easily. How can humans do this to one another? But that got Jesu thinking. This man. He didn't look quite human, almost like something else mixed in. Human. Guardian. Elim. Sisk. Jesu had seen all of these, and out of them the man was definately human. But his mannerism, his posture, his attitude toward others. All had similar Sisk traits. Was he half Sisk? Jesu didn't know, and couldn't care to find out, it didn't matter anyway. "You Sir are the worst kind of being. You speak of being for the people, and appeal to them to speak up, and yet you turn around and slay one. These men have families too, they are not part of my world, the Royals world. They merely want a job, and they do a damn fine good one. But then you come. And you destroy their family. Widows, orphans. Who will feed them? Who will give them their daily bread? Like hell it will be you. Like hell it will." He snarled the last comment, and approached the man. He motioned for the rest of the guards to get out the way. Before they too were injured. They took the injured and the dead away. "Once you are arrested or lay dead at my feet, I shall sell that horse of yours. It will fetch a good price, and that money may act as a small assistance to the families of these brave men." He took of his white linen shirt, the one he had so rushed put on this morning. His day had been ruined. The strange white tree tattoo on his back almost shone, as it's branches rippled with his muscle. His gauntlet reached up to his shoulder, and the blades dropped to mid calf level. Jesu had a clear head and the will to fight. This man used a katana, and some sort of disappearance magic. No doubt something else too. When using splice he could touch the blade, but other than that it was a big no-no. The man didn't use quick-draw style so that was some sort of respite. "This is my charges birthright, and I won't have you take it from him. Now feel the wrath of the left hand of god." Jesu's red eyes glittered and grew large. His shark teeth grinned. His muscles tightened. He looked like an insane man, and yet every move was specific. He began to further approach the man. Stab. Cut. Blood. Death. WORDS! 0<X<10000 TAGS! Rebel Leader NOTES! Shit is gonna go down [/style]

[STYLE=width: 400px; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; color: #75531E; letter-spacing: 2px; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: -4px;]made by kiwii at btn & ote![/style]

[ARIA KEL FABRE]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] ONLY VIOLENCE i watched the city burn, these passions slowly smoldering, our lesson never learned, only violence. is your world just a broken promise? is your love just a drop of rain? will we all just burn like fire? are you still there?

[atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=style,border-left: 1.5px solid;] Unbeknownst to these brutes, the princess was watching at a slight distance. Annoyance wrought her features as she listened. She had stepped forward after the riot had been put to an end, she had helped several women and children stand, ushered the latter to find their parents and to go home. After which she had strode to the edge of the makeshift battle field. She had heard every word that both the rebel man had said and that had left Jesu's mouth. She was actually finding her typically non-existent rage, building up. Not just towards the rebel, but towards Jesu. She did not decide to intervene though, until after Jesu began to get serious. A deep breath was took, and slowly she began to envision herself on the castle grounds, shooting arrows and not watching her people be killed. The thought calmed her, allowed her to focus. She was about to try something she had never done before. She was certain she could do it, it just had never been on her list of things to try. However, it was either do what she had in mind, or try and move the people herself. She was fairly certain what she had in mind would save her energy. In, out, went her breathing until she finally felt the air around her shift. She focused the air around her feet, the effect would push her off the ground, and carry her over those between herself and the battlefield. It worked, though she probably should have forced herself higher. The only reason that she did not, was because she could still hear people shouting for blood. Whose? Well she was not entirely sure. The landing only managed to be graceful because she caught herself mid stumble. She was close enough to the two now that no one stood between her and the field. Murmurs swept the crowd as she whipped a hand back, yanking the bow from its holster, and two arrows from the quiver. Both were placed into the bow as she cleared her throat. Granted, she did not expect either of the party members to hear. However, she did expect them to react as she began to constrict the airflow around both of them. Unlike the time she had used it on Jesu, this time it seemed far more serious, her hold on it not as easy to break through. She had obviously been working on it, and was also obviously fueled by anger. Since she had no intention on actually fighting with the two, she was not particularly being gentle with the way she was handling the situation. She was merely asserting her dominance. Something the princess only did if the situation was dire enough. As soon as the two relaxed, she would release the hold on the air and allow them to breathe, otherwise she would simply just wait until they passed out. Her gaze never left the two despite her next words. "Take him to my mother, she will do for him what she can." She was obviously instructing the guards that held the injured soldier. "Also, report the situation to your superior so he may inform both of their families as to what has happened. Tell their wives to come see me personally and I will see to it that they are taken care of." Her tone was calm, her words seemed almost compassionate. "The rest of you lot who think this is good fun. I do believe it is time for you to clear out." Her tone now was sharp, commanding. Anyone who did not know who she was, and who stuck around, would obviously get a good tongue lashing as soon as all was said and done. Finally she directed her words to the boys before her - who we are assuming had calmed down enough with the lack of air to listen. "This is hardly the place to assert who has the biggest rod. However, if you two must carry on, I dare say that this land has no use for either of you, and I will be forced to shoot you both." She was closer then she liked, but she could shoot just as accurately up close as she could far away. Her ability to shoot two targets or even three at once was not unknown, she had practiced for a long time to perfect that art. She was also quick to draw another arrow as soon as the other fled the string. She did not look fearful of either man before her, and despite the fact that they could both probably annihilate her at close range, she was hoping that they were too out of breath to do so. "You." Her words were directed to the man who had started this all. "You come in here preaching of how the royals have more food then they can help, how bread is too much. Yet here you are stirring up this crowd of good innocent people. You are getting them hurt. Not just by the guards, but by each other. Did you stop to consider how many children and women were in that crowd? Did you stop to consider that perhaps they did not want to get involved in your antics? No, you only sought to stir up discontent amongst the people. You want them to hate the crown so much so that there will be supporters for your cause, and with such pretty and eloquent words, they did not realize that you did not care any for their well-being. For if you did, why would you have done something that could have hurt or killed so many of them?" Her words were said loud enough to be heard. Though he was not the only one that gained the sharp end of her tongue. Her next bout of words went towards Jesu, these words were just as harsh. "As far as you go, you disappoint me. You let your ego get the best of you, and for someone who spouts nonsense about this and that for the future, you sure do not seem to desire to live that long to see it. He wants you to attack him. He is provoking you and you are stupidly allowing him to do it. In a fight, you would lose against him. Simply because you are going in blind, and he is going in knowing what he wants and how to get it. You are bringing a bad name to the guardians, and I do not much care for it." Unfortunately for Jesu, he would be getting more later. She had a whole list of things to lay into him for later, but now...now she just turned her attention back to the rebel man. "Now is not the time for this battle. You have caused the strife that you came to cause. Begone." She glanced towards the gate, eyes narrowed on the guards. "Open it." Her tone dared them, or Jesu to try and contradict her authority. At the moment, she was the highest ranking person here, and she would not allow them to get more then a single word out before she released an arrow. Granted, she would miss them - purposefully, but it would be done. + Notes, Sorry about the gming as far as the air thing went, figured it would be fine since she isn't actually seeking to hurt them.

made by amb tanz

[ostercelba]

[atrb=border,0,true][bg=eeeeee][atrb=width,500,true] [STYLE=width: 100px; height: 100px; border: 10px solid #025185; float: left; margin-top: 20px; margin-left: 20px; margin-right: 5px;][/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-size: 10px; font-family: arial; margin-top: -2px; width: 410px; color: #585858;]— HE THAT STRIKES THE FIRST BLOW.[/style] [STYLE=text-align: left; font-family: arial; font-weight: bold; font-size: 20px; margin-top: -6px; margin-bottom: -3px; width: 410px; color: #585858; letter-spacing: -1px;]I'LL RUN HIM UP TO THE HILT.[/style] [STYLE=text-align: justify; padding: 5px; border-left: 7px solid #025185; border-top: 5px solid #025185; background-color: #f3f3f3; width: 400px; font-size: 10px; color: #585858; margin-left: 20px;]AS I AM A SOLDIER.He dismissed the man in front of him now. The majority of his words slipped in one ear and tumbled out the other. Nothing this child said bore any tactical or even strategic value. This was simply the case of a boy puffing out his chest, proclaiming to the world he was a man. Pissing contests had lost their zest for Oster with the revelation of his claim. Before he could continue with any other course of action, he suddenly felt caged by an invisible force. A shallow breath later revealed that the oxygen surrounding him was suddenly stale and unmoving. How could one suffocate like this in an open area? Multiple questions poured into his brain before a petite female began to lecture him. The sheer audacity of her words and the mention of her 'mother' allowed him to easily deduce her identity. A princess, more importantly, a royal. He had been unable to derive sufficient oxygen from the air for several moments now, just as she began to preach to the boastful youth, Oster saw his opportunity. He had carefully weighed his options, considering the consequences of each choice. It took only a second for him to make, in his mind, his only choice. His right hand still firmly clenched Nupalah and he could feel the hidden energies, forged within the very metal, flow through him. As the Princess beckoned the guards to open the gate, his physical form completely melted away from this bright, living realm. The only thing that marked his original place was a film of jet black smoke which soon dissipated. Oster, much to his sanity's chagrin, had entered that macabre realm which no mortal should tread. The brilliance of the hundreds of lights that emanated from each individual's soul was overwhelming at first. The realm of the dead was in perpetual night, but the gathering of so many living on the other side lit the area up like the morning sunrise. He identified the youth's aura, and the princess's as well, but he did not tarry for long. He could already feel the dark tendrils creeping into the recesses of his brain. Oster turned and began to walk towards the gate, the Princess's control of the air obstructed him no longer, as he had no presence in their dimension. He knew the madness would fall upon him shortly. His retainers were waiting, in disguise, outside of the city proper with fresh mounts. The difficulty now was the travel. His mind wavered, and he turned abruptly, stopping his movement just as he stood beneath the darkened gates. Anger welled up inside him, the twisting and tearing force that gnashed at his stomach. A combination of constant stress and shame from an age past weighed heavily upon his soul. Suddenly he was screaming, though his words were strange, those in the realm of the living could hear him. However, they would seem to come from nowhere and bore an ethereal and ghostly quality to them. "My cause is honorable, though for yours I cannot say. Know that your subjects' obedience to this line does not wipe the crime from their heads if they so choose to rail against my purpose. A heavy reckoning this treacherous line will have forced upon it. Bloody murder's revenge shall serve to oust. Thousands will weep and thousands will pass into shadow because of this gilded vanity. This I do proclaim." His monologue finished, he spun upon his heel and fled through the gates. His long legs carried him to a shining group of men and horses who but casually milled about. Finally, he released his dark blade and his physical body returned to the realm of light. The men gathered about seemed ready instead of aghast at such magic; they had been waiting, quite prepared. Oster's eyes were wild and he swiftly mounted a new steed. He spurred the animal immediately, a queer luster in his eyes and he rode, shouting peculiar phrases that had but little meaning to any of his men. They followed him at a respectable distance, keeping watch for anyone seeking to tail them. Before long they slipped into a wooded area, off the main paved road which led to Skara. One of them, the head of his guard, whispered to the nearest rider. "He hath again spent far too long in that terrible world." [/style] [style=font-size: 10px; text-align: center;]TEMPLATE BY SAMARECARM OF OTE + BTN[/style]

[gunny]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,415,bTable]

[atrb=style, background-color: #D0C6A4; border-top: 5px solid #75531E; border-bottom: 5px solid #75531E;][STYLE=border: 4px solid #75531E; height: 100px; width: 100px; margin-left: 15px; margin-bottom: -33px; margin-top: 7px;][/style][STYLE=float: right; width: 277px; font-size: 40px; color: #75531E; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; margin-right: 15px; margin-left: 123px; text-transform: lowercase; margin-top: -45px; letter-spacing: -3px;]Death is a virtue[/style][STYLE=background-color: #EFE9E0; border-top: 4px solid #75531E; margin-right: 15px; font-family: arial narrow; letter-spacing: 2px; font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: -9px; margin-left: 123px; padding: 5px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; color: #75531E;]Life is but an illusion[/style] [STYLE=margin-right: 15px; margin-left: 15px; font-size: 15px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; background-color: #EFE9E0; padding: 17px; color: #3C2E16; margin-top: 8px; opacity: 0.9; border-top: 4px solid #75531E; border-right: 1px dotted #9D6F25; border-left: 1px dotted #75531E;]Things did not get better from here, as always they got worse, far far worse. He felt her presence shortly after he heard her speak. Sure at first he was happy. It was Aria, the strangely mannish, and yet still beautiful, princess. How the hell that worked Jesu didn't know, but it just did, and it was incredibly annoying. Her timing was impeccable she could help him eliminate this rebel whelp. Yet, instead she did the opposite, she let him go. Fair enough dispersing the crowd and getting the wounded to safety, but letting him go? He deserved to die. Did she really think that if the roles were reversed this man would do the exact same? Grating his teeth Jesu stood there with the pressure of the air pressing down on his body. He couldn't breath, but that didn't stop him from snarling and speaking, in short choking gasps. "Aria. Let. The barrier. Down. Now." Jesu saw the poof of black smoke and the man appear a few meters away, he walked away talking some sort of shit. Jesu just stood there. As the air was realised and Jesu could breath again, he walked forward, red eyes full of rage. Demonsbane: SAP the elements rumbled, as he stepped forward towards the retreating man the very earth below his feet collapsed, a nearby well fell apart and the water inside came to rest at Jesu's feet, the water bubbling and boiling into the blue Energy. Candles flared bright and blue then suddenly went out. It had an overall eerie feeling. Jesu breathed in a walked forwards, but to no avail. The man was gone. "For all your logic and planning Princess, you have no bloody common sense. Why did you let that man go? I agree with you up to that point. But why the bloody hell did you let him go." He was shouting at the Princess, rage bubbling. He didn't care about the man being dead anymore, he just thought, 'what if'. What if that man had used that ability to kill her? What would she have done? She could shoot what she couldn't see, hear, smell, or even touch. "In you mind do you have any doubt that he would have showed you the same courtesy? Of course he wouldn't! He'd have killed you in an instance and then what would I have done?" He'd have killed the bastard. He would have ripped him apart. Jesu paused. He had destroyed a couple of meters of ground which looked like crumbly pastry. He walked away from Aria and put his hands behind his head. He lost his calm. He didn't need this today. Jesu began walking after the man. "Aria, I need to do something. I need...some time to think over things, and search for something important to me. I know thats against my duty, but this has to be done. I will need about a week. Cover for me would you?" He began walking away, listening for an answer but not caring what it would be. He had enough stamina to run a marathon right now, and Energy was swelling inside him. He would come back in a week. He unstrapped his gauntlet, he wouldn't need it where he was going. It dropped to the floor with a clatter. The Heir would survive a little while, especially under Aria's protection, if she gave him it that is. "Don't die while I'm gone Aria, and don't let Archie die either. I know I can count on you of all people." The mood had changed dramatically. It was solemn and mysterious. Jesu walked out the door, and kept walking. THE JOURNEY BEGINS WORDS! 0<X<10000 TAGS! Aria and Oster NOTES! Where u going? [/style]

[STYLE=width: 400px; text-align: center; font-size: 9px; color: #75531E; letter-spacing: 2px; text-transform: uppercase; margin-top: -4px;]made by kiwii at btn & ote![/style]