Final Kingdom MUSH - User contributions [en]

Anarchist Bonfire

2013-05-26T00:09:22Z

Syd: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2013/05/25 |Location=Giza Plains |Synopsis=A Heretic and a Templar walk into a church... |Cast of Characters=Faruja Senra, Sydney Losstarot }} :''..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/05/25
|Location=Giza Plains
|Synopsis=A Heretic and a Templar walk into a church...
|Cast of Characters=Faruja Senra, Sydney Losstarot
}}
:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' It is a rather average day on the plains of Giza, the sun shining brightly on the grassy plains beneath it, wild monsters and chocobos roaming freely. A well-traveled area of the plains, used mainly for merchants and pilgrims to pass by. It is just as dangerous as any other part of the plain, but it is still a populated area most of the time. But today...something is different. Something feels off. CLANK. CLANK. CLANK. Sydney stomps along the plains, a hard, ruthless determination to his eyes. His destination? A small priory for Glabadosian monks. It may not seem like much, but it often brings converts by offering charity to those along the road who cannot afford to help themselves. These are all good things to Sydney, for they would help attract attention to him. Today would be the beginning of the reckoning. The first step of the plan. (Second, if you count beating up Tyrin.) He holds strange implements in his hands. One: A modern lighter, something Sydney picked up in manhattan. And the other? A bottle, filled with some brownish, foul smelling liquid, a rag stuffed into the entrance of the bottle. A foul-grin spreads across his face as he calmly opens the door, walking in. "I have no wish to harm those who dare not lift a sword. Flee, fools! Or you shall be swallowed in the flames of cleansing!" He shouts as he brings the lighter to the bottle, lighting the rag. He tosses it to the far end of the church, creating an explosion of fire. He has no intention of harming the monks, so he's aiming for an area clear of them. But he will do nothing to assist those who get in his way. "H-h-help! Its a madman!" Faruja might hear over his linkpearl, the cries of a desperate monk as he flees from the now-burning priory.

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' -- A Bar In Carwen Some Time Prior -- Faruja sips at his drink leisurely, waiting on his informant. The Holy Office of Inquisition had been informed of a shipment of Heretical documents being traded in the town, thanks to some pious members of the community. The great wheels, eyes, and ears of the Church turned their attention to the place, and Faruja given his orders; wait, get the necessary information, and perform whatever holy duties as may be necessary. When the call upon the linkpearl goes out, Faruja's hand is shaking that of the young woman who had given him the sensitive documents. A quick trip to a trusted courier, and the Templar finds himself upon the back of his great wyvern, making for the small priory with all due haste. This certainly called for the intervention of a Templar. Swoop! Faruja doesn't bother announcing his presence, the roar of Arista the wyvern being more than necessary. Wordlessly, holy-infused ice slams into the fire produced by Sydney's molotov cocktail. This priory is decidedly /not/ militant in the least, unlike other sections of the Church. Some monks flee, while others mill about in a panic. Faruja's voice cuts the air. "Brothers and Sisters of the Holy Church! Let no blasphemous knave fill thy heart with fear! Get thee to Carwen, post-haste!" Calls out the rat, thoughts shifting to the men and women of the priory even before Sydney comes into play. The rat even kicks a recalcitrant monk in the rear just to emphasize the point. It works. A rather rotund monk is off, the ratling already calling up what few agents of the Church he can get on the linkshell to escort the no doubt fearful monks to safety. Which, of course, leaves the Templar more than open to assault, should a certain Heretic think to take the opportunity!

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydneys back is to the door as Faruja enters, the Blood-Sin displayed rather prominently. Sydneys arms are raised in the air as the flames burn about him, laughing amusedly. As Farujas voice cuts through the air, Sydney shoots his head over his neck, offering a grin most foull. "...Blasphemous knave?" Sydney grins amusedly, shaking his head. He throws his arms outwards in a rather maniacal motion. "I am the messiah!" He announces loudly, as a huge amount of dark energy bursts forth from Sydneys body, far beyond what any amount of darkness, save a shadow lord could command. Shame Sydney can't use it for much more than a scary aura. The fire begins to spread, coating the pews of the chapel as Sydney narrows his eyes at Faruja, unintimidated by the blaze he's set. "Like a lamb to the slaughter."

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' "What is thy purpose here?" Returns the rat, the mere sight of the Blood Sin enough to sicken Faruja. His soul ever attuned to the more destructive side of the holy element has him blazing even as the fire spreads, white light filtering off of the rat as if in opposition to the great darkness Sydney exudes. Spear in hand, he does his best to douse the flames with Holy Sword skills, but it certainly isn't anywhere near the power of a Black Mage's ability to quench the element. The rat can only pray his Church-aligned black mage friends can get here in time! "Messiah? Fah! Naught but a follower of Darkness. Heartless summoner! Heretic! Witch! Be gone from this holy place, and trouble the innocent souls here no longer! If 'tis conflict you desire, face me! Now off with thee!" Though most of his attention remains on saving the Church, shards of holy ice destroying pews to hopefully save the building as a whole, he's sure to throw a few Sydney's way. Life is short! Bury! Stasis Sword~

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' Attack made, the ratling digs into his robes, pulling out a potion. Slurp! It eases much of the damage of Sydney's abilities.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney turns his back to Faruja as the shards of Ice fly through the air, waggling his finger mockingly. "Tsk Tsk Tsk." He remarks as he disappears in a flash, reappearing a few paces away as a dark laugh echoes throughout the chapel. His eyes turn as he watches the shards coalesce, a foul smile on his face. " My purpose? Ah, but you do not care, do you? You fiends burn innocents under a guise as thin as 'holy justice'. You trounce about so freely, firmly convinced that you are the heroes of this tale, despite any idiot being capable of seeing you as naught more than theicidal monsters. For every twig you have ever added to a heretics stake-fire, I shall add another log to the pathetic funeral pyre that is your church." He says, frowning angrily at Faruja. "You'll find that not all heretics are as idiotically merciful as the braves. You will not be let loose from this encounter. As I leave the ashes of this monstrosity, the only thing that will remain will be charred logs, and a stick in the middle with the still pompous face of a rat held so highly atop it." ...Someone likes monologues! Sydney sighs, shaking his head. "'Tis so hard to turn evil when it is so convinced it is doing right. It leaves only the option of..." Sydney raises his hand, darkness growing heavy once more. ".../Destruction/." He finishes, holding the ball above his head. It grows larger and larger, as Sydney begins to chant in the ancient language once more. Unholy text in an ancient language begins to sail towards Faruja, snaking its way through the air as it emits an inhuman hum. "Follower of Darkness? Not all of us are so idiotic as to worship the elements we command. For 'twould be idiotic. The brighter the light. The longer the shadow..." Sydney trails off enigmatically, breathing deeply as a foul look crosses his face.

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' "...No, I suppose not, when 'tis so plain. Burn a church, spread panic, draw out those in authority. Naught but a deluded anarchist stands before my sight." Whatever his words, a majority of the rat's focus flickers to the burning church. Well beyond his skill to douse, all he can do is growl another order to get some bloody mages down here! A difficult thing, given the relative remoteness of the area. Sharp, tiny teeth flash towards the Heretic, shaking his head in something close to pity. "'Guise' is it? Those whom break the laws of Heaven need be punished. 'Tis Faram's will that /we/ be the ones to carry it out. Quite simple. This 'holy justice' as you would put it is the right of the Faithful, to weed out that which would corrupt and destroy our charges! Persons such as thyself!" Words attack him. Thankfully, in a land so steeped in the arcane, such a thing isn't /too/ much of a surprise. Going on the defensive, the Templar throws up a magical shield, the dark language battering off of it harmlessly. "...At least in that, we share kinship. Death is the only punishment for what you have wrought here." With that, the ratling rushes forward, attempting to quite simply spear the man in the chest with his glowing weapon!

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney laughs mockingly, raising a hand as if he were about to go on another monologue. SCHNK. The hollow sound of metal piercing flesh echoes as the spear passes directly through Sydneys body. Striking several arteries, and his heart itself, it would've killed any normal human being, and for a few moments, it looks like it did just that. Thankfully, the Blood-Sin makes it so that things like "Organs" and "Blood loss" aren't as big a deal in a fight. Thats not to say he's immortal, though... Sydney slumps over limply, sliding down the length of the spear. ...Only to move back up just a few seconds later, breathing deeply as the Blood-Sin flares violently, numbing the pain. Sydney narrows his eyes at Faruja. "You think you have /any/ right to murder someone, because a god you have absolutely /no/ evidence of existing commands it? ...Shutup!" He shouts, as a spear of holy light falls from the sky...skewering Sydney completely. If Faruja doesn't pull the spear out in time, the holy energy will dance across it like electricity, searing all it comes into contact with...except Sydney.

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' A monologue ended, in the way only a Templar can: violently and with great zealotry. As Sydney slumps over, Faruja sighs, shaking his head. "...May the Lord grant thee forgiveness within his ar...!!!" The rat has no shame in the slight shriek he gives, squeaking loudly, staring at the 'suddenly-alive' mage skewered upon his weapon. Light falls from the heavens, and only a keen danger sense as well as excellent training saves him from being completely melted by the strike. Letting go of his spear, he leaps away into the air, armor scorched as well as some of the flesh beneath on his right arm. As he peaks, flipping upside down, he glares down at Sydney. "What foul witchery is this!? Fah, thy very /existance/ is a stain! By all means, flee from death, it shall catch all within its jaws in due time!" Then, the rat tucks in his legs slightly, flipping back around to attempt a hard, dragoon-leg powered kick to the butt of the spear in Sydney's chest; hoping to impale the man into a wall!

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney flies back a few feet, the spear cracking the stone wall of the church behind it. He coughs, a small amount of blood dribbling from his lip as he writhes about mildly. "Crafty one, aren't we." He says mockingly, his words ignorant to the fact that there is a SPEAR IN HIS CHEST. He blinks out, reappearing a few yards away. "But not crafty enough, you fool." He says, raising a palm towards Faruja once more. Darkness grows heavy in the air as he casts a debuffing spell, one that weakens bones and muscle alike temporarily. He follows it up with another spear of light, but this time, it explodes before it can skewer him. Sydney raises a palm, and the holy energy is sucked into his body like a vortex. Raising his other hand towards Faruja, it begins to blast out in a heavy, searing beam.

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' Faruja feels the effects of Sydney's spells robbing him of strength, the usually strong and steady Templar breathing heavily. At least he's managed to skewer the man. The mage manages to end his current plan, however, by teleporting away. Frown. "...Damned mages." Mutters the Burmecian, a statement which will no doubt one day prove to be a foolish one to make, karma-wise. Kaboom! The surge of holy energy blows up neatly in Faruja's face, causing him to stagger back before being blasted back out. Once again, the rat barely manages to avoid having a hole in his own chest, wincing as part of a wall explodes outwards. A quiet incantation, and a vortex of white light sucks up the Burmecian's spear, only to be spat out in his hand. "How dare thee mock the Church and this holy place with thy spells! /DOWN/, witch!" Leaping into the air, holy light flares at the tip of his spear. Falling, he brings it down like an axe upon Sydney a wave of physical and holy power upon the man.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney laughs amusedly. "Ah, it always makes the church fearful to see how easily its elements are commanded. Light will bend to even the cruelest of hearts, yet darkness will only bend to those who work for it. Does it make you angry, you foolish templar, that I command the energies you worship better than /you/ do?" He says mockingly, throwing his hands to the side as he laughs. "Mage? Witch? You haven't really studied much magic, have you?" Interlude paragraph! Sydney looks up boredly as he sees the templar falling. This is likely going to hurt. A lot. But Sydney has one hell of a poker face. He cringes, preparing himself for teleportation, but it doesn't look like he's going to make it. He disappears in a flash. VWOOM. This time, there's no monologue. No witty retorts. No time. There's only an incredible weight of Darkness. So heavy, that it gains physical form and begins to fall like purple snow, floating gently through the air. Its actually quite the pretty sight. It suddenly begins to shake violently, interacting with the particles in the air to create a nuclear-dark-ultima spell, with a blinding flash of energy to go with it. "Hmph. Feel the awesome power of darkness!"

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' Faruja doesn't respond to the magic bit. Mainly because Sydney's absolutely right; his magical studies are quite off, given his own world's lack of more diverse magical studies. "'Twould be a most impious Faithful to /not/ balk at such a display! Cast not thy twisted power as some sort of accomplishment, knave!" Faruja /really/ is starting to hate time magic's teleportation powers. Or at least that's what he's assuming! He'll have to have a grumble later about it, if he survives. By the time the Darkness fades, Faruja lies on the ground, coughing up blood and shuddering from twin pains of body and soul. His shed blood seems to melt into the floor, only his soul's own burning pyre of light keeping him from fading completely. A normal Burmecian would perspire on the spot. Faruja, if nothing else, is known for being stubborn about the whole 'dying' idea. Surrounded by fire and darkness drags back old memories. It's about all that the ratling has left in him "D...damned humans...frakking Alexandrians...LEAVE OUR HOME!" yells the rat, charging at Sydney with rage, and an eye that doesn't seem to be at all in the current day and time.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney laughs amusedly as he sees the shattered form of the rat on the floor. "Hmph. You templars are naught more than dandelions. Everywhere, but utterly worthless and easily removed." He says with a smile, turning to finish his little church fire before the rats backup arrives. Why can't you just die? Sydney turns surprisedly, watching the rat rise. "Impressive. You templars defy every notion that survivability and idiocy should /not/ directly correlate." ...And then Faruja had to open his mouth. "...Or not. It seems your body has survived. But your mind did not. Perhaps I'll make this a mercy killing." Evilsmile. Sydney disappears...again. I swear he doesn't do it this often. Whatever the forces that be in this world clearly are backing Sydney in his attempt to smite the heathen god. When he's a few yards away, he raises his palm. Gravity will begin to grow heavier, just like a gravity spell. The only difference? Those are focused externally. This one is focused /internally/. If Faruja doesn't move fast, he'll feel a great amount of pressure on his internal organs. Its followed up with another spear/boom/beam combo.

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' All Sydney gets is growled mutterings of rage and anger as he teleports away, the Templar stabbing and kicking at opponents that aren't even there! Something about his comrades, demons, and burning yellow eyes is said. Gravity, however, isn't part of this shadow play. The feeling of something trying to squish his internal organs brings the rat back to reality just in time, throwing himself aside from the area of effect. Still, a horrific crunch, and his right arm goes limp; throwing the reflexive Holy Spear Skill's aim wide a touch, perhaps enough for Sydney to get away. Shellburst Stab's purple crescent falls, if badly so. Luckily, flat on his arse, spears of light go over his body, quite literally saving his life. Dropping the far-too-long-for-one-hand spear, a short-spear is summoned. "...Teach a..*cough*...body to live within the past's grip." Mutters the Burmecian more coherently, though in that distinct manner of a person barely able to keep conscious. With what little strength he has left in his legs, the rat thrusts himself into a mad leap, pouring all of his strength into one more blow. Could it be enough to finally finish this. "To the end of this useless endeavor!"

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney sighs, shaking his head. "...Why won't you /die/ already?" He says, a bit of exasperation in his tone as he hears bone cracking, instead of squishy aortal rupturing. "Shame. You regained your full senses. 'Tis never fun to face death with a thoughtful mind. I take pleasure knowing that in wh-" Hey! No stabbing during talktime! Sydney dodges this one the more conventional way. With a quick leap to the side, followed by a roll. He's not the fastest to his feet, but he's fast enough to follow it up with a counter of sorts. While he's rising to his feet, his minions take the moment to shine, and two heartless leap forth from Sydneys shadow, scratching violently at Faruja. They're stronger and faster than normal shadows, thats for sure. ...But that isn't a very hard thing to be. While they're scratching and clawing, Sydney takes a moment to shoot another text-line of Darkness at Faruja. With less time to chant, though, this one is a little weaker.

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' TEXT! It causes the rat to bleed, no doubt in part reducing his love for the written word. He'll have to punch a librarian some time. An evil librarian. There's also the fact that a pair of Heartless are currently cutting through armor into fuzz-and-burnmark covered flesh. Amidst the smoke and smell of blood and fire, Faruja can do little more than slash away the pair of Heartless. Blood pools beneath the rat, barely on his feet. All the Templar can do is point his spear and pray that he can drive the dark mage off, the voices of a few fellow Templar, Temple Wizards in this case, crackling into his linkshell. Light falls from above, Faruja attempting to blast away the mage with Holy Explosion. Hopefully his superiors will forgive the crater he's about to add to the floor, given the circumstances.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney disappears in a flash, the holy explosion missing him completely. ...Wait, scratch that. There's a loud explosion a few feet away, apparently the explosion hit him before he could go ethereal and teleported with him. It sends him flying, knocking over a burning beam as he does. Rising to his feet, another beam falls on him, distracting him for a few moments as he has to pull it off. "Hmph. Even a cur like you can land a hit every now and then, it seems." He remarks as he rises to his feet. The heartless leap back to Sydneys position, their adorably evil faces staring at Faruja. Sydney can tell he's on his last legs. Fires rage about behind him, but Sydney can't hear a bit of it as he gives his next command. "...Kill him." The heartless leap forth, a third one joining their ranks. They scratch and claw violently, moving with greater coordination than most heartless as Sydney orders them about magically.

:'''[[Faruja Senra]] has posed:''' Heartless crowd around him amidst the flames and fire, Faruja once again fighting off a flashback of how his own world fell. All the Burmecian can do as they reach down to claw and bite, and leap into the air, the ratling finally falling unconscious mid-air. This time, he hits the ground, and doesn't stand again. The church is heavily damaged, almost utterly ruined, only the great stoneworks spared aside from heavy scorching. Magical energies shimmer, and red-robed forms wink into existance, Temple Wizards finally arriving to douse the area with water and ice. One enterprising mage sees fit to gather up the heavily wounded Templar. The eldest of the good five mages, amidst directing a few gouts of flames of his own at the Heartless, glares over at Sydney. "Be gone from this place, Witch, lest it be thy last day! We shall not abide the burning of our homes, and harm coming to those in our service."

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney grins devilishly, his heartless prepared to remove and consume Farujas heart. Its clawed hands are wrapped around the glowy orb inside Farujas chest. It begins to pull slowly, and darkness begins to whisp around Farujas form as it wraps upwards, prepared to consume him and turn him into a heartless. Suddenly, a gout of flame strikes the Shadow, disappearing it completely as the heart sinks back into Faruja. "Oh, Bollocks." Sydney mutters under his breath. Turning to the group, he smiles foully, and whisps of darkness begin to dance about his form. "...Burning of homes? You /dare/ speak of the burning of homes, when you freely burn the people who live in those homes? Nay, for today, I have memorized your faces. I shall kill each and every one of you. Except for the rat...he shall remain alive, if only to know that you all died so that he may live." He says, grinning evilly. "And for the record...you would not have allowed me the option of leaving after burning a church...if you thought you could win the fight." Sydney holds his arms out, laughing evilly as a corridor of darkness rises to consume him. It falls back to the floor,disappearing into nothingness.

Sydney Losstarot

2013-05-05T23:17:00Z

Syd:

{{Character Infobox
|firstname=Sydney
|middlename=Bardorba
|lastname=Losstarot
|age=24
|image=Sydloss.jpg
|caption=I had one...but it wouldn't upload :(
|species=Hume
|sex=Male
|height=5'6
|weight=240lbs.
|series=Vagrant Story
|styles=Darkwalker
|hometown=Greylands
|alignment=Wandering Force
|group=Unaffiliated
|occupation=Revolutionary
|themesong=The Dark One-Anamanaguchi
|quote="You /really/ want to become a martyr, don't you?
|footer=Playing games. The mind kind.
}}
= Relationships =

== Acquaintances==
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Leon]]||Intrigue||"You wield darkness with ease, yet you rose to the defense of others when purged. ...Perhaps you are worthy. Perhaps not. A thought I should not allow to trouble me so."
|-
|[[Artemis Eurus]]||Amiable Neutrality||"While I would not dare call you a 'Friend', your company is entertaining enough."
|-
|[[Avira]]||Neutral||"Hmph. You assisted me when I needed it. You have my thanks, but I owe you /no/ favors."
|-
|[[LANCER]]||Intrigue||"Your assistance was...appreciated, regardless of how inconsequential it may seem in the face of the outcomes."
|}

==Annoyances==
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Tyrin Marius]]||Annoyance||"Your loss will be the first of many, Templar."
|-
|[[Souji Murasame]]||Annoyance||"The desire for power is the most foolish one of all. Your end will come, whether or not I nudge it along is another deal."
|-
|[[Will Sherman]]||Vexation||"It amazes me how quickly others will jump to defend a fool who brings pain upon himself. Still, your idiocy made the perfect catalyst for the test to begin."
|-
|[[The Church of Glabados]]||Amused hatred||"You both are, and are not the church I once knew. But you will burn all the same.."
|}

= Logs =
{{Character Logs}}
= Cutscenes =
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

File:Sydloss.jpg

2013-05-05T23:16:54Z

Syd:

Sydney Losstarot

2013-05-05T22:59:52Z

Syd:

{{Character Infobox
|firstname=Sydney
|middlename=Bardorba
|lastname=Losstarot
|age=24
|caption=I had one...but it wouldn't upload :(
|species=Hume
|sex=Male
|height=5'6
|weight=240lbs.
|series=Vagrant Story
|styles=Darkwalker
|hometown=Greylands
|alignment=Wandering Force
|group=Unaffiliated
|occupation=Revolutionary
|themesong=The Dark One-Anamanaguchi
|quote="You /really/ want to become a martyr, don't you?
|footer=Playing games. The mind kind.
}}

= Relationships =

== Acquaintances==
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Leon]]||Intrigue||"You wield darkness with ease, yet you rose to the defense of others when purged. ...Perhaps you are worthy. Perhaps not. A thought I should not allow to trouble me so."
|-
|[[Artemis Eurus]]||Amiable Neutrality||"While I would not dare call you a 'Friend', your company is entertaining enough."
|-
|[[Avira]]||Neutral||"Hmph. You assisted me when I needed it. You have my thanks, but I owe you /no/ favors."
|-
|[[LANCER]]||Intrigue||"Your assistance was...appreciated, regardless of how inconsequential it may seem in the face of the outcomes."
|}

==Annoyances==
{| border="1" cellpadding="2"
|-
! scope="col" width="100" | Name
! scope="col" width="100" | Status
! scope="col" width="500" | Thoughts
|-
|[[Tyrin Marius]]||Annoyance||"Your loss will be the first of many, Templar."
|-
|[[Souji Murasame]]||Annoyance||"The desire for power is the most foolish one of all. Your end will come, whether or not I nudge it along is another deal."
|-
|[[Will Sherman]]||Vexation||"It amazes me how quickly others will jump to defend a fool who brings pain upon himself. Still, your idiocy made the perfect catalyst for the test to begin."
|-
|[[The Church of Glabados]]||Amused hatred||"You both are, and are not the church I once knew. But you will burn all the same.."
|}

= Logs =
{{Character Logs}}
= Cutscenes =
{{Character Logs|Cutscenes}}

Aggressive Heresy.

2013-05-05T19:29:34Z

Syd: Tyrin and Sydney fight it out over the fates of some heretics.

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2013/05/03
|Location=Golmore Jungle
|Synopsis=Tyrin and Sydney fight it out over the fates of some heretics.
|Cast of Characters=Sydney Losstarot, Tyrin Marius
}}
:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' A bit of a chase has been going on at the moment; Those in the nearby castle have likely been muttering up and down the surroundings. It seems the Church of Glabados has tracked down some heretics in the area, although not the sort that might be expected. Civilians in this case, ones who have been on the run. Whoever is after them has been dogged, and they have only a desperate plunge into the jungle. There are four total, one an elderly matron; wearing peasant clothing, dirtied and torn from time outdoors and hard movement. She is faltering behind as they try to cross a stream, and that cuts an end to this particular chase. Bursting from the vegetation ahead of them is a gallantly dressed knight; crimson cape fluttering behind, hair blond and predominantly wearing the insignia of the Knights Templar. He rides an armored yellow chocobo, brought up to a stop. Four other Knights come up from behind, fanning out and pinning the four people in the midst of the river, staggering against their legs and making standing difficult. They huddle, as Tyrin Marius pulls out a scroll and unfurls it before him. "In the name of the Church of Glabados, you have been found guilty of providing supplies and shelter to known heretics of the church... And when confronted, you fled. What have you to say for yourself?" "Mercy, please, we... they made us!!" states the eldest male, hands held up placatingly.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Plink...Plink...Plink... Sydney walks alone on a small road through the center of the jungle, his eyes hardset on the scene before him. Once he's finished listening, he sighs. Announcing his presence by scraping his long, metallic claws together, making a greating sound comparable to that of nails upon chalk. Its not painful, but its likely to be very annoying and attention grabbing. "Ahem. What business have you with these people?" He announces loudly, an easily recognized valendian accent to his tone. His eyes are narrowed scornfully at Tyrin, and its clear that he means business. He adds on, a bit of a mocking tone to his voice. "I see you not only spout the nonsense of hellions, yet wield the blade of an ungodly fiend. That can only make you...a templar." He says scornfully, grinning devilishly.

:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' "...?" Tyrin turns towards the sound of the approaching Sydney, but his expression is immediately distasteful. Blue eyes rove over the peculiar ensemble, bringing his chocobo about slightly to face him fully. "These people are criminals. And I see you wear the raiment of war, yet no emblem of a kingdom? So you are a mercenary. A deposed knight? It matters not. Do you intend to interfere in the affairs of the Church of Glabados?" Those eyes narrow, hand shifting to rest on the hilt of his blade. Nothing about this figure, at least, meshes with the other four Knights. They are meek, cowards plated like turtles, looking unsure. They could be sent fleeing with a show of force or intimidation. But not Tyrin... his resolve is steadfast and true. "I warn you. I have the authority to have you named 'heretic'...!" The four civilians in the midst of the river remain huddled, looking just as shocked as anyone else. And, it might be noted, highly unsure whether Sydney is an arrival intended to save them or not.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney laughs amusedly. "You have much authority over your petty religion." Sydney blinks out of existance quickly, reappearing in whatever space lies between Tyrin and his party of accused. "I intend to burn your foolish church to the ground, so that the world might be free of its horrendous existance." He says, grinning devilishly at Tyrin. "...But worry naught, fool. I shall grant you the foolish joys of martyrdom." He says, flicking his claws outward menacingly. Craning his head over his neck, he turns to look at the fellow heretics. "Flee, you fools." He remarks coldly, before turning his attention back to Tyrin. "If you wish to strike at them, you'd best hope your blade can pierce far." He holds his palm above his head, pulling the malevolent darkness from beyond the void of existance no man dares go, and it explodes over him with an audible thump. His body begins to glow with strange, dark auras.

:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' Blink. Tyrin widens his eyes, whirling around with barely a moment's hesitation when Sydney shifts location. An impressive show of honed reflexes. The other four knights bark a sound of alarm and flutter their chocobos away in a spurt of feathers, with enough delay that Sydney could have likely slain one and wounded another had it been an attack. "I see. A heretic already?" In a smooth, practiced motion Tyrin Marius slips from his chocobo, carefully guiding it to the side and away from the battle. "Have the civilians move to the other end of the river. There is no need for them to get caught within this." They would be more then willing to slosh free of the water, although the four knights there will ensure that they won't be escaping until things resolve... one way or another. In a rasp of steel, Tyrin pulls free his blade. It glows lightly, thrumming with some manner of magical energy. His shield flows down his shoulder, secured to his left arm. "I am not here as executioner." he allows, simply. "Merely to see that justice is done...!" And with that, Tyrin rushes forward, exploding through the water as if it was little obstacle. He whirls his weapon down, but it dances in an irregular line, leaving a crimson flash. aiming to strike him in an armored shoulder. Before in a flare he strikes down twice, both blows aimed primarily at the energy whirling now about Sydney... flashes of heated magic intending to burn away the heretical aura.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' The dark magic fades away, though the natural aura of evil that surrounds Sydney doesn't go away. His pauldron is dented, but not cut. It'll take more than that to cut eldritch metal. It did enough to jam the blade inwards towards Sydney, though, leaving a mild cut on his shoulder. He sighs. "Heretic? Please, what an unfair title. I prefer the term "heathen". Heretic implies I'm one of those innocent fools you burn at the stake day after day for nigh-unexistant crimes." He says, narrowing his eyes to thin slits. Raising his hand above his head, a ball of dark magic begins to coalesce, letters in an ancient text floating around it. They leech darkness from the ball itself, until the letters are throbbing malevolently. They fly towards Tyrin, snaking through the air with an almost inhuman noise. Sydney just grins devilishly. "Tell me, fool. How large would you like the pike your head shall rest on to be?"

:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' The fierce onslaught of dark energies causes Tyrin to tense, bringing his shield forward with a light curse. It's struck dead center, and knocked askance; hitting true the center of the Knight Templar, scouring away the front of the tunic to reveal more filligried plate and mithril beneath. The darkness whirls up from the wound, gradually diffracting away. "Heathen. I see." This seems to be a distinction for Tyrin. "Then you are an enemy of the church, but not a Brave..." Gripping the hilt of his blade, it is snapped down, and the last lingering traces of magic are purged in Tyrin's vicinity. "As high a pike as you can spare, then. For I will watch down from the heights, content I lived my life just...!!" Again he approaches, although this time he roars; a deafening noise that actually causes a spray of water in all directions. Two brutal stabs forward are done with his blade, aiming to slam into Sydney's midsection hard and stagger him backwards.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' "GUH." Sydney lets out a hard breath as he feels the air knocked out of him by that attack, reaching down to touch the blood coming from the gash. Bah, the Blood-Sin will quell the pain enough to keep Sydneys mind on the task at hand...but thats gonna /hurt/ later. "Hmph. Braves. Don't compare me to them. I am not foolish enough to let myself play the hart this time. I shall be the hunter! And your foolish friends, my prey!" He says with an almost maniacal laugh. He's at a bit of a distance since the spear knocked him back...but not for long. VWOOM. Sydney disappears in another quick flash, reappearing to the side of Tyrin, hoping to catch him off guard. Raising his hands above his head, he charges up another magical dark-alphabet, snaking its way through the air as it attempts to strike Tyrin. "'Tis good to see the same fanaticism so common among templars in you. Now, I shall take no guilt in watching your corpse gnawed by the vultures!"

:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' "...you are the most simple of villains." Tyrin states. He looks to remain quite composed, really. Perhaps there's a touch of pity within his eyes. "You know me not, yet you hate me due to my allegiance. My love of the Church, which brought me up, sheltered me, and gave my family purpose? Enough... I shall purge this heresy like any other!!" Although dancing darkness is definitely not something he's well-equipped to deal with. His shield raises, but they whirl about, homing in to strike clean all the same. Coughing heavily, his stance within the water hardens, before Tyrin explodes forward in a brutal frontal assault. Bringing his weapon back, he whirls a few quick cuts, flash of red again obscuring the blade amidst the rapid strikes. But then he darts forward in a short dash, attempting to strike the center clean into Sydney. Which would result in a sharp crash of arcane energy, likely leaving his eldritch plate glowing and vulnerable in the aftermath...!

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' The blade meets its target with ease, Sydneys not the fastest. Thanks to the rapidity of the strikes, none of them are hard enough to pierce Sydney clean through, but they're enough to hurt. Blood leaks out, running to the floor. He looks up, scorn in his eyes. "Villain? Coming from the self-righteous brat who was just about to murder a group of people because they think differently than you? Please, you are so cliche it strikes me as cartoonish." ...What? Sydney watches TV sometimes...not much else to do when you've got no friends. Sydney raises his hands above his head, another violent explosion of dark energy overtaking him as he attemps to regain the buffs Tyrin was clever enough to remove. Jerk.

:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' "I told you. I was not going to hurt them." Tyrin states matter of factly. "They were to be taken in for questioning by the Church. If they are innocent, then they have nothing to fear." Peculiarly, this seems to be absolute truth. Of course nobody branded an aid to heretics is going to survive an inquisition, but if this Templar is aware what that sentencing means, it's not apparent. He holds his weapon up, closing his eyes in focus and turning the blade to the side. Before he suddenly roars out once more, launching forward with his shield held up guardingly. But then he strikes out with it towards Sydney's face, revealing his sword to be glowing bright red as he focuses the destructive techniques of his knighthood fully within it. And then he swings down, a catastrophic overhead blow intended to cleave the other man from shoulder to hip. "BE PURGED...!!"

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' VWOOOM. Sydney laughs evilly from behind Tyrin, echoing through the air with an almost ethereal tinge. "Oh, I'm /sorry/. Was that aimed at me? Perhaps you should go purge a few trees for an hour or two." He says mockingly, before simply shaking his head. He lifts his palm, and an almost incredible amount of Dark Magic begins to fall from the sky like snow. It condenses into a ball, vibrating violently for a few seconds before setting off a violent explosion that can best be described as a 'Dark Elemental-Nuclear Ultima spell." If it makes contact, its gonna /hurt/. While the attack is charging, Sydney takes a moment to monologue. "Are you really so trusting a fool to believe they have any chance? Tell me, have you /ever/ seen someone accused of heresy leave alive, regardless the evidence?" Once he's done, Boom-boom.

:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' Well, damn. Tyrin is a knight; he's actually had minimal exposure to this sort of supernatural assault. When a man can teleport like that... it opens up a whole new dimension of combative options. Being pelted by falling snow certainly makes things more awkward, and his focus is lost as he tries to deflect harmess snowfall. Well, harmless at the onset. When it coalesces together, he's truly got no defense beyond a loud cry of defiance. A huge spray of water goes into the air. Certainly no normal individual would have survived that... but when the mist disperses, Tyrin remains standing. His armour is blackened, cloak and tunic shredded. Blood runs down his face, but he still seems steadfast. "...I am not called in for the questionable heretics. I am called in for the enemies... of the church. Both large... and small." Stumbling forward, teeth grit through the blood. He can't lift his shield anymore... but as long as he can swing his sword... with a snarl, he brings his sword to bear, a swift overhead strike. But then the sword flashes brightly red yet again, and a brutal backhand is leveraged at Sydney -- only truly dangerous if he believed that the Knight Templar was completely spent...!!

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney laughs. "Oh, thats what I /love/ about you templars. No matter how weak your mind is, you people have such wasted willpower. It makes killing you such a shame, knowing you could've accomplished something /useful/ with your life, cur." He says, weakened from the fight...but not as much as Tyrin appears to be. Granted, he looks to be walking the edge as well. Heartless rise from Sydneys shadow, gazing hungrily with yellow eyes at Tyrin. Sydney grins evilly, remarking "Strike him down. But do not kill him. I need his unconscious form for bargaining." Ohohoho, looks like Sydney knows what he's doing now. He's gonna threaten Tyrius's life, in exchange for the release of the prisoners. Sydney unconsciously considers these things as his heartless leap upon Tyrin, scratching wildly.

:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' "Tch... spare me your words... you care no more for mine then I do for yours..." Tyrin states dourly. He brings up his sword with effort. Apparently he's not delusional; he is facing his expected death to the last. With a roar he swings down his sword. One of the shadows is cleaved down -- but his blade is caught within it, and the others fall upon him. Driven into the water, struggling and splashing, in short order he goes still. The four knights about the civilians look pale as milk now, unable to assess how closely Sydney might be to defeat as they unsurely grasp the hilts of their own swords, chocobos qwarking in fear.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' Sydney laughs devilishly as Tyrin falls into the water. He could leave him there and allow him to drown...but he needs him alive. He needs someone to get those people out of trouble, and he needs someone to go back and tell the church that he's back, and he means /business/. Grasping Tyrins form carefully, he pulls him out of the water, and puts his bladed claw near his throat. He disappears with Tyrin, porting across the river, near the knights. "Release them, or I will flay the flesh from your commander. And after I'm done with him, I'm going to move on to /you/." He says threateningly, narrowing his eyes threateningly as he lightly touches his claw to Tyrins throat. Not enough to cut, but enough to leave a bit of a mark. The heartless reform in Sydneys shadow, taking a V-formation around him as he loudly chimes "So whats it going to be, curs?"

:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' "S... strike him down...!" Tyrin manages to cough out near the four knights. "He is..." But he's not really able to say much more, and it's unlikely he'd be allowed to. But the reformed shadows and the threatened Knight Templar does as Sydney desires. These four are not the devout of the Church, the most base of muscle. They murmur lightly, but 'if he loses his head we all lose ours' is easily heard. The four civilians are allowed to hurry away, although the 'thanks' they offer seems unsure and hesitant. Tyrin is still trying to fight back, a feeble hand grasping at Sydney's wrist with the strength of a child. "Bastards..." he manages towards the others who are mounted.

:'''[[Sydney Losstarot]] has posed:''' The heartless inch closer and closer to the knights, gazing hungrily. "If they try /anything/, tear their hearts out and make them join your ranks." He commands as he walks over, Tyrin still in his arms. Sydneys arms are completely prosthetic (but you couldn't tell by looking), so he can't even feel the grasp, though it might strike Tyrin as him simply being uncaring. He narrows his eyes into thin slits at the knights. "I will be taking the Chocobos. People, mount!" He will wait for them to do as he asked, fully expecting them to do it...they know what happens to heretics. Once they've all mounted, Sydney will take a spot himself on one of the Chocobos, riding infront of one of the others due to their only being four. "Remember what has happened today. Remember how your gods failed you." He says mockingly, throwing Tyrin to the ground before riding off in a flash, likely to traverse town, where the church would be sure to find opposition. Sydney rides again!

:'''[[Tyrin Marius]] has posed:''' This is the first time that Tyrin has failed; he has hardly had a wide-spread career, but having his men routed and their chocobos stolen... he makes no comment when flung to the ground, thumping in the mud and laying still as Sydney rides away. The four knights look thoroughly unsure now, but when one moves to help him up his hand is struck away. "Do not touch me..." With great, shaking effort he pushes to his feet, breath huffing out in long exhales. Snapping his fingers, his own chocobo rushes across the river. He almost falls mounting, but lulls forward like the dead. "You can walk." Rearing his mount, Tyrin rushes off into the jungle, back towards the church lands. Sydney's message is certainly going to be passed on.

Sydney Losstarot

2013-04-29T00:15:40Z

Syd: Created page with "{{Character Infobox |firstname=Sydney |middlename=Bardorba |lastname=Losstarot |age=24 |caption=I had one...but it wouldn't upload :( |species=Hume |sex=Male |height=5'6 |weig..."

File:SydneyLosstarot.jpg

2013-04-26T03:12:41Z

Syd: