Test One - Gloomy Uruk

[Molalzsath]

OOC: Ok, let's see how this goes, I guess some-one has to start it. Any-one feel free to chip in, but please put a short description of your character in the "Roll Call" thread in the IRP Social section first.

IC: In the mountains of Perdow, a lone Uruk sits. Before him is a path, leading to a monastary. He sits, staring brooding at the pathway, chewing on the remains of a carrion crow.

He growls, and tosses the bloody remnants onto the path, then growls again, a low frustrated sound. Leaping to his feet, he runs towards the path, then suddenly falls backwards, bouncing off an invisible field.

"Stupid level lock!" he snarls, pounding his armoured fist on the rocky ground. Rolling over and climbing to his feet, he draws his weapon, a dead black blade, it's crossguard the shape of a uruk skull. He swings it towards the invisible field, and it passes through smoothly.

"Stupid fellblade!" he exclaims, glaring at it. Tilting the blade slightly, peering suspiciously at it, he growls "And no need be grinning, it not funny!" The weapon remains silent, and Molalzsath shoves it back into it's sheath. "It be your idea to level, get more strong you say. Now me not get more shinies."

[Ezeiric]

Ezeiric whistled as he ascended the trail. The mountains ranged high around him, several peaks now lower than he. He glanced at them time to time until they lost themselves from his view as he entered a small valley. Scrawny trees grew in the eternal gloom that blanketed the dusty hill hell known as Perdow. Ezeiric held contempt for them as he did for most of the planet.

His whistling broke off as he watched a flight of crow circling a structure on the horizon. He adjusted the monocle in his right eye that gave them an awkward gold tint and squinted while closing his left. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Corpses the size of sticks lay about like ragdolls. White tunics stood out amongst the dark clad figures, and he was fairly sure that clothing mattered little to the crow that pecked out eyes and innards. No, what mattered to Ezeiric was what made the birds fly in the first place. As far as he knew, the last battalion of the 'damned' assaulted the Monastery of Sikkar a week ago and no others should be there yet.

"What do you think?" He whispered softly to no one in particular. A voice like nails grating across a blackboard answered soundless within his mind.

"How can I know what to think? All I can see is a leg I want to hew off and a tree."

Ezeiric rolled his eyes and slowly drew the Fellblade from his hip. It was a slightly curved blade that thinned after three feet to appear almost like a sabre. The 'front' was a smooth blade with several notches near the cross guard but sawed teeth curving back towards the hands halfway down the other half leaving the point sharp as a needle. The crossguard melded itself looked like a demons head with sapphire eyes staring down either side of the blade that protruded from a mouth like a sharp tongue. Ezeiric's arm protruded from the base of the demon's head looking almost like a neck with the dark leather of a duelist's padding that looked more like a jumpsuit. The weapon looked more like a fencer's blade than something that hacks and hews.

The eyes sparkle with malevolent life as they peer into the distance. The blade seems to shimmer subtly like liquid metal and to any that might have looked closely, the weapon seemed to continually vary in length, as if it could not decide it wanted to be a longer or shorter. After a time, Ezeiric lowered his arm but left the blade unsheathed.

"Well Lith?" He asked aloud.

"I see a lone figure standing in the middle of the carnage. I sense a familiarity of the weapon in its hand." The Fellblade whispered before falling silent. Ezeiric shrugged moved forward once more. He did not bother hiding himself. If whomever it was was part of the Monastery, they'd be in for a surprise of their life. If it were someone else... well, he was reasonably sure that Lithkenum and he could tear this pending foe a 'new one' as Lith always screamed before battle.

A quirk of a smile touched his lips as he heard a unintelligable yelling from the figure. It sounded like gibberish but distances and canyons had a way of being tricksy with distortion.

"Probably some stupid troll or elf. What do I care?" Ezeiric muttered to himself as he ambled along casually.

"You know, people will think you're crazy when you talk to yourself that way." Lith observed at his side. Ezeiric winced and then shrugged carelessly. Most people who thought he was crazy usually ended up dead anyway. He mused over how easily he proved how much another's opinion was truly worth.

The figure in the distance was closer now and waving a blade at the monastery. The black sliver caught Ezeiric's eye and held it before the Uruk, he was reasonably sure it was one given the stance, pulled it down to yell at it.

"Uncouth beast. Don't you know swords don't talk back?" Lithkenum mused.

"Of course not. Particularily Fellblades." Ezeiric replied.

"Oh, is that what I sensed?" The Fellblade asked in an idle tone. Ezeiric only nodded. He wondered if the Uruk would notice him before he arrived or if he'd have to smack his fellow Fallen to get his attention.

"I think Sikkar is keeping him out." Ezeiric smirked once more in amusement. Lithkenum dined not to respond.

[Agrona]

Bunkiealt sat hunkered down in the stable of the monastery. As a papua, it had the great disadvantage of being particularly small, and because of that, being very good at hiding from the forces that occasionally stormed through, slaughtering this relatively peaceful mountain retreat on a chaotic world.

Laying there trying to be quietly, it slowly fingered the tattered edges of its rather worn out tunic. The bright red cross on the front had grown quite dingy since it had been given to Bunkiealt The dirt and grime associated with hiding from the latest party of Fallen to come through didn't help the tunic's condition any.

Bunkiealt had known about this place only after being on Perdow for months. Slowly Bunkiealt caught word of it, very small tidbits here and there, hushed information. A refuge of order and peace and love for residents of a planet of Lawlessness and chaos. It was hard to believe, and Bunkiealt set out to find it out of curiosity. Papuas were at home underneath mountains, why could they not try to get by on top of them?

However, what had been quite a pleasant excursion to Perdow, turned sour after living at the monastery for a while. It had originally came to Perdow to explore and sightsee the deep, cavernous tunnels that run beneath its surface; eat strange and exotic rocks; expand its horizons; that sort of thing. Particularly exciting were the sections of caverns that simply dropped off into flowing lava, or where they were so deep that they could (and did) house grandoise towers that despite their immense height never peeped above the surface of the planet.

Bunkiealt had been training in the monastery to be a templar when the first fallen came through. The guards were virtually helpless against the destructive power of the Fellblades. That day, Bunkiealt learned a lesson it had been fortunate enough never to have learnt on Crypt: the destructive power of a Fellblade is only out-gruesomed by the process with which it consumes souls.

After surviving by hiding among the rocks in the vegetable garden that day, Bunkiealt swore its loyalty to Sikkar. It now knew the atrocities that were committed by just the tiniest portion of the Nameless One, and it feared his return to full power.

Bunkiealt knew what it had to do. Just like that first day, and just like it had many other days, Bunkiealt would have to get up in the morning, say prayers over the dead, and re-dedicate itself to its readings of the Levitikon and be prepared for the next person to wander to the monastery, with hope of Peace or Order in his heart.

This time, however, the Fallen did not leave for good after the raid. Bunkiealt could hear an Uruk in the distance grumbling to itself, and instead remained as still as a statue, reciting litanies in its mind.

[Molalzsath]

Molalzsath sniffs as the wind brings a new scent to his sensitive uruk nostrils. He tenses, drawing his fellblade as he peers about, trying to see through the dark mask he wears over his face. His lips draw back in a snarl as he recognizes the smell of live human, different to the smell of dead human wafting from the monastery.

He snarls under his breath "more human, maybe flappy come to help other humans."

He waited, tense and ready to explode into the famed uruk homicidal tendencies, watching the figure approach. Suddenly his arm tingles, at the moment he recognizes the black blade in the approaching humans grip. He relaxes and straightens, raising his fellblade in a casual salute.

OOC: Aren't you glad you entered your race in the role call? And I know, as an Uruk I should say 'uman, but it drives me spare!
And can Gifted Ones recognize fellow Gifted Ones, and things like names etc. I know in "real life" we don't know names on sight, but in retroverse we do, so should we play that we do? After all, I played that we know what level locks are... and levels, for that matter.

[Ezeiric]

(OOC: I roleplay as if the world were real with real physics and with logic. As we are both Fallen, we are well aware of who the other side. It is also easy to identify the fact that we Are Fallen by the blades. As for how your character reacts to things such as level locks and etc, continue doing what you are doing. I'll roleplay my way and such since all roleplay is not created equal.)

Ezeiric's smirk broadened as he approached. He recognized the Uruk with the roundly unpronouncable name from previous glances and passings through the Fallen headquarters. He had termed the creature 'Molly' and the nickname stuck for him though he never dined to talk to the creature in person.

Ezeiric casually saluted back with a bit more flippancy of action. He was not much for saluting really but several of the other dark warriors felt that it was needed. Truly, the Fallen had a loose organizational system at best and most were loners that either hired mercenaries, like he did, or gathered clinging weakling cohorts to do their bidding. It truly was ironic how the roaming loner Fallen could so successfully ravage areas of planets against a better organized army like Sikkar's.

"I would say 'How fares thee' but it is fairly obvious." Ezeiric said continuing to smirk for a few seconds. Then his face fell into a stoic businesslike mask as he surveyed the area. The corpses were all old and most of the wounds came from weapons other than swords. The Uruk had been completely unproductive in terms to slaughtering the twits of Sikkar. A quick scan of the walls and ruins showed little signs of siege and many signs of repair.

"This will not do at all." Lithkenum grumbled at his side. The urge to kill grew in Ezeiric's belly but he fought it down as he eyed the Uruk.

Ezeiric arched an eyebrow expectantly humanoid as if demanding explaination for the lack of fresh killing as he crossed his arms akimbo with Lith dangling slightly in a nonchalant manner from his hand.

[Molalzsath]

Molalzsath snarled at the human's tone and attitude, reminded much of the constant superiority of his now dead siblings. He spent a short moment remembering the death of family at his hands and blade, and substituted this upstart human into the mental image for a moment. A sharp-fanged grin flickered over his face, but he shook his head slighly as he dismissed the idea, for past lessons had taught him that it's best not to go up against fellow Fallen. Not when they are expecting you, anyway.

Refocussing on the present, he glares at the human, who has stopped talking and is standing arrogantly in a nonchalant pose. Focusing his Gifted One powers for a moment, he looks at the human with his gifted sight (OOC: finger). Not as strong as his pose suggests, certainly not strong enough to teach Molazsath anything... and most certainly not strong enough to be answering to!

"Me be locked out, me too powerful for puny humans!" he snarls, running his left hand over his battle trophies attached to his armour. "Retroverse take pity on poor flappy humans, protect them from too strong Molalzsath!" he proclaims proudly, raising his right arm to shake his fellblade at the sky.

Inside his head, he hears a soft voice... the voice of his long dead mother, the first of his family he killed with his fellblade. "But now you not get them pretty shinies. You am stupid." Snarling, he shouts at his fellblade "Me not stupid! You stupid! You say me should get stronger, it be your fault!" Lowering his arm to his side, he mutters to himself "You stupid, not Molalzsath".

[Ezeiric]

Ezeiric eyed the, what he now considered, demented Uruk.

"You know, I always said we needed a screening test for whomever joins the ranks." He thought to the Fellblade.

"Yeah, well, you know, can't be very picky when it comes to enlisting the aid for evil." Lithkenum shrugged in Ezeiric's mind.

"Amen to that..." Ezeiric muttered aloud and pondered how to deal with the insane Uruk. It was obvious that the Uruk was one of those poor fellows that saw the world as some freakish gamely light, but there was little He could do about it. Ezeiric was fairly sure that killing the Uruk would do little to put the beast out of its obvious misery and only make it appear someplace else by the Nameless One's accord. That was always a bugger.

Normally, Ezeiric would walk on by such a delusional soul but decided he best not. He was certain he could slap this Uruk up one hill and over the next, but that would be a waste of energy and time. He definitely did not want the Uruk to stab him in the back, something he associated with all of the creature's race. So he would try diplomacy of the worded kind.

"You know... Sikkar may have barred you from this place, but I'm certain that there are more of their kind floating around in this lowly universe. Of course, you could, you know, stop acting like a pouting putz and find a way past Sikkar's barrier." Ezeiric smirked. He fingered the Fellblade's hilt and had little doubt that the Uruk would deny the possibility and press the issue about not being able to get past the barrier. Barriers were nothing Ezeiric worried about as any wall could be broken - With the right tool.