The Harlequin

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali turned, smiling broadly. As Neo finished his high and mighty speech.[/I] Rali: Lo! Mortals all, ye shall not heed this imposter! Ye shall answer me the great riddle. The question that has plagued man and elves for millenia. "If I were a ferret, where would I hide?" [I]The was a profound silence. It was eventually broken by a muttered "What the hell?". The phrase was taken up, until it was almost a mantra. Neo just glared at him. Rali started laughing. Eventually, the elf, caught up in it, started too. Neo started swearing. Eventually, the whole forest was reverbrating with laughter. Neo sighed. Even Langal was laughing. This would be harder than it seemed.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Neo and Langal quickly learnt one thing about solitude. It made you a pain in the ***. At least, judging by Rali's behaviour. Or, more aptly, the string of sarcastic comments. Leading them into the middle of a battle didn't help matters.[/I] Rali: Well now, oh glorious leaders, shall we get involved in this outright travesty, this duplicitious, underhanded, undignified, thrice cursed, gods forsaken, farcious debacle? Or did you have some other plan running around in your oh so omnipotent heads? [I]They glared at him, and started to edge away. Too late. Several arrows flew towards them. They ducked away, Rali not letting up his quips, even as a lucky shaft traced a scarlet line across his arm. He picked it up, remarking nonchalantly:[/I] "That's elven. So they're firing at us to." [I]A break in the arrows as the archers stopped to reload. Rali was on his feet in an instant, crowing about how stupid they were to not have fired in waves. A flight of arrows answered him. He swore and rolled forward, leapt to his feet, and ran. Neo and Langal stayed where they were. Not that they would miss him much.... He walked into another clearing. One elf, a female, multiple humans. He'd seen scenes like this before. They didn't notice him. Two humans were already down, one apparently unconscious, one sporting a ragged wound. The humans assumed he was an ally. The elf assumed he was another enemy. As such, both groups were somewhat surprised when he leapt into the air, twisted sideways, and shot his foot into the collarbone of one of the humans, as he attempted to circle the elf. Rali landed, rolled, and came to his feet facing the other way. The elf waved her staff at him, forcing him to duck. He came up quickly, and had to twist sideways again to avoid a sword thrust. Viperishly fast, his hand shot out, his palm striking the flat of the blade, knocking it away. He stepped forward, bringing the same hand up into a backhand to the man's temple. Wrapping his hand around, he pulled the human's head down in kneed him sharply. His nose shattered all over Rali's knee. The elf, not quite understanding yet, hit him in the back with her staff. He stumbled forward, turned around, and nearly took another shot to the face. He blocked with his left forearm, wrapped his arm around the shaft of the weapon, and pulled sharply outwards. Twisting the weapon left, he spun it behind his body, caught it with his right hand, feinted, spun left again, and struck the nearest human with a sharp backhand blow. By now, the elf had gotten the point, and taken down the last human with her dagger. A swift, efficent strike up under the armpit, through the leather armour between the plate. He threw her her staff, which she caught easily. She studied him a moment before speaking.[/I] Elf: What kind of idiot runs into a battle against multiple foes without even a weapon? Rali: The best kind. The kind who is fully convinced he is god. Pleased to meet you, by the way. As I said, I am god, but most people call me either Rali, or get the hell away from me. [i]The elf just stared at him. But that was alright. Rali was pretty much used to that by now.[/color][/font][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali smiled slighty, a wry upturning of one corner of his mouth, almost imperceptible.[/I] Rali: Rali Kreigyr. Was there anything else, my arrogant friend? Langal: Watch your mouth human. [I]Rali stretched languidly, spinning his main knife into his hand. He absently surveyed the blade a long moment, ignoring the elves. Eventually, Neo cleared his throat. Rali looked up quizically.[/I] Rali: Hmmm? Are you people still here? I thought the idea was to go somewhere sometime soon? You know, save the world? Save boy! Save! [I]The elves just stared at him. Rali gestured with his knife.[/I] Rali: Well? Are we going or not?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Dalamar sighed. Again. The wait was over. But what had it gotten? A ragtag group, all come to "say hello". Although one of them apparently bore news. He sent a thought into the Shokian grove, telling it to take a nap, or look at the sky, or something other than annoy travellers. It sulked, but did as it was told. The three all converged on the tower, nearly running into each other as they reached the door. He descended, opening the door with a wave. They slowly, hesitatingly stepped in. Two of them he recognised. The third, the kender, was unknown to him. But that didn't matter. If you knew one kenderkin, you knew them all. He smiled wickedly, and spoke in a cold voice.[/I] Dalamar: Welcome to my den of iniquity. Come in freedom, leave in health, and leave some of the happiness you bring behind.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Definately Raven. Life was basically hell before that, then things got just got weird. Actually, she and I started out threatening to kill each other on a daily basis. Now, I'm a "vampyric sex god". Pretty damn cool. But basically, she means everything to me. Apart from that, there's a few close friends, such as Jesus Chicken, and music. Everything else is pretty transitory. I've been accused of being blasé before, but I don't really think it fits. I just don't take an interest in most things, no matter what happens. Oh, and I'm finding more and more that Taekwon Do is most enjoyable. Strangely enough, it's a release from pressure. And not just because I'm hitting people...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali watched the gathering part, nobody harmed. He sighed. Ah, a complete lack of amusement. Damn the anticlimax. He did, however, follow the two elves, interested to know exactly why they didn't attack the human, considering the advantage of numbers was on their side. He was close enough to hear their conversation, but when it got onto forces of evil, demons, end of the world, what not, he got bored and stopped listening. Not his problem. Really, it wasn't. He did pay attention however, when they started drawing weapons. A creature dropped from the canopy, some kind of demonoid, black human. Horned, clawed, and probably fanged. Run of the mill really. It snarled at the two elves, who dropped into fighting stances, eyeing the creature warily. Rali laughed to himself, and threw another knife, striking the creature in the shoulder. The creature roared. Unfortunately, the two elves were stupid enough to look around at him. He shook his head, and pointed towards the creature, who was advancing towards them.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Oh for Christ's sake. It's a small, 80 by 80 pixel, at the most, picture, that occupies about 5% of your screen, at the most. Probably a lot less. Why, exactly, do you give a damn? If someone wants to go and make themselves look like a lazy wackjob, then go ahead. I mean, it's not like they'd be giving anyone false impressions of themselves or anything.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali awoke the next morning, at the sound of voices, swore softly, in a voice just above a whisper, and threw an at hand pile of dirt onto the fire. It went out, without an smoke, as intended. He drew his knife, and another, almost stilleto looking one, from another position about his person. Multiple more were concealed. He leapt into a some of the nearby trees, nearly running into a man attempted to hide. He waved his spear at Rali, but didn't really acheive much.[/I] Rali: Quit it. I don't want to hurt you yet. [I]Two figures cut off the man's chance for reply. They appeared to be elves, one of them slightly too tall. They appeared to be arguing. The man Rali had encountered growled, and shoved Rali away. Rali sheathed his large knife, and drew a third. He hurled it across the clearing with deadly accuracy. It flew between the two elves, attracting their attention. The man looked at the knife, then back. Rali had gone, leaving behind a ghostly chuckle. The two elves, seeing no one else, assumed the man with the spear was the knife thrower. They reacted accordingly. They were after all, elves, and he was, after all, a human.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]The clearing was quite, tranquil. Stars shone overhead, though there was little moonlight. A deer, obviously not a mature male, stood, and drank quietly from a spring, a nocturnal comfort. Trees swayed around it in the wind. That same wind carried a scent. It's head came up, looking around in confusion, and a slight alarm. Rali leapt out of the tree, landing on the deer's back, hands shooting out, and breaking its neck. He sprang away as it fell, tumbling, but ending up on his feet. He looked around calmly, and dusted himself off. He stepped forward, and pulled his out his long, wickedly curved bone knife. He had made it himself, and over the years of accumulated nicks and breaks in the blade, it had turned into a truly vicious weapons. He had others, but this was his favourite. This was his first, and the one he chose to use when sentient life bothered him. Their screams never did though. And the knife was really, really something to make a person scream when it was driven in... He efficiently gutted the deer, taking what meat he could easily carry. As always, it was uncertain when his next meal would be. He left the clearing quickly. In another small dell, several hundred metres away, he set up a small campfire, dug deep into the ground to obscure the light. The meat was hurriedly cooked, and eaten just as fast. By daybreak, Rali planned to be elsewhere.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Oh, Jesus Chicken's chances aren't that bad.Once he gets over the neccessity for similar music taste. Yes, I do find that very, very funny.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Hmmm. I'll even out the human side I believe. Name: Rali Kreigyr Race: Human Description: Six foot tall, and as slender as a blade. Has shoulder length, raven hair that is worn free. Features are fair, but very, very cold. Eyes are grey, with black flecks. Nose is aquiline, and thin. Mouth is somewhat thin, though with full, expressive lips. Strong, but not heavy cheek bones. Rali is very thin, weighing only 110 pounds, but he possess a tight, wiry musculature that is easy to underestimate. He wears long, leather black pants, with black leather boots. His torso is covered by a long sleeved shirt done in a strange, almost marble black and white pattern. Bio: Rali's parents were killed in an elvish raid, but, unlike most such circumstances, he didn't bear a grudge. Not against the elves anyway. In reality, he hated his fellow humans, for allowing his parents to be killed. He basically took up the life of a ranger or druid, living alone in the forest. Many of his fellow humans thought he had taken up with the elves, and most elves think him a spy for the humans. In reality, Rali simply doesn't care about anything. He lives because he doesn't have anything better to do. Altercations have taught him how to fight, and more importantly, how to kill. Lacks finesse, though he has a natural grace, in a fight he tends to rely on outright brutality, speed and agility. When he bothers to use weapons, he sticks to daggers. Doesn't like the encumberment of anything larger.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]He's serious about the music taste thing. It's over the top... Personally, I'd go for the whole pale skin, perhaps the English/Irish style complexion, long black hair, relatively tall and thin idea physically. Mentally, they'd have to have a pretty similar outlook on life to me, and basically be able to put up with my idiosyncracies. Despite saying that, the two females I'm most into aren't exactly like that at all....[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali sat through the lecture, boring, uninformative, and outright ridiculous though it was. A "guest professor" was rambling on about some theory of spontaneous evolution as if it actually had a basis. Rali could see his regular lecturer frowning and shakig his head. At least he was remotely intelligent. Actually, his ordinary lecturer was a pretty cool guy. Unfortunately, all his old uni buddies appeared to be wackjobs. The man in question stopped, clearing his throat pointedly. Rali looked over, and realised the man was looking at him.[/I] Lecturer (the wackjob one): You'll never get anywhere if you aren't willing to pay attention to your elders young man. Lecturer (the other one): Ah, excuse me, Rali was just asking me a confirmation, as something you said related to a point raised in an earlier discussion.... Wackjob: Oh, alright then. But in future, clear it with me first. [I]He started droning on again. Rali slumped in his chair, pulling out his laptop, and attempting to find something more interesting to do.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson] Name:Rali Kreigyr Age: 217 Race: Lythanoid Weapons: Basically hand to hand. I'm a six foot tall four armed demon looking creature. What the hell do I need a weapon for? Desc: A lythanoid is a tall, thin humanoid. They are subterranean, and as such are jet black. Face has a slight grey cast, making it readable, but that's about it. They appear a glossy black, but do not reflect light. They have four arms, terminating in a set of five taloned fingers each, and membraneous wings, which are suitable for gliding, but not outright flying. The most interesting biological feature of a lythanoid is their internal structure. Rather than bones, they possess specialised muscles, known as [i]sceiyphs[/I]. These muscles not only make the lythanoid incredibly flexible, they are also make broken limbs a thing of the past. Cut them however, and regrowth is somewhat difficult. The neck is also nearly half a foot long. Due to their natural environment, which quite often involves things such as molten rock, lythanoids are basically immune to heat, and have a remarkable control over their body temperature. Basic body temperature is several times the boiling point of water. Bio: Rali was abducted by an alchemist by the name of Vi Duku, at the relatively young age, for a lythanoid, of 73. Lythanoid religion, due to their skin, and habitat, is on of darkness. When a lythanoid dies, its body decays completely, unless preserved in absolute absence of light. Now, certain people with nothing better to do than cut up creatures to see how they work fidn this very interesting. Vi Duku was one of them. He however, had a better theory. Undeath. The lythanoid hangs around, becomes bidable, and doesn't tear up most one's minions. He had a problem though. The only way he could find to make Rali into an undead creature was to have him bitten by a vampyre. That went well, no questions asked, but the vampyre wasn't happy. Injesting blood that was several hundred degrees pissed him off basically. So he took it out on Vi Duku, and Rali escaped in the confusion. His people, previously unexposed to things such as vampyrism, threw him out, which didn't exactly worry him to much. He currently lives underground, in a miniscule part of an immense cavern system. I like original characters. They're so much more fun.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]True to form, Dalamar was brooding. To all appearances, he was nothing more than your twisted evil mage, alone in his warped tower, surrounded by the blighted, cursed forest. All appearances would have been correct. He waited in the top room. He didn't know what he was waiting for, but he knew he was waiting. He didn't even know if anything was going to happen. The fact that there was something he didn't know rankled. So much rankled these days. And the scars on his chest were becoming increasingly painful. No cleric he had found, not even the very, very few true ones, had been able to heal them. Damn Raistlin. Damn the man's power, damn the man's ambition. Damn the man's thrice cursed cleverness. Dalamar was quite good at damning things.[/I] OOC: Don't worry, I'll post decently once we get a storyline going.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: Well, after how ever long I just spent writing solidly, I must say I am somewhat disappointed with myself. This submission, to put it kindly, should be tarred and feathered. [I]Lacroix immediately stepped forward, intending to follow them. He was restrained by a gentle hand, though cloaked in steel. The knight then. Lacroix turned, face expressionless.[/I] Calonice: It would be wise to determine a plan of action. And even wiser to question the townsfolk as a group. You on your own may be somewhat ...intimidating. [I]Lacroix was fairly sure it was meant as a compliment, and took it as such. His eyes danced with a dark amusement never the less.[/I] "Question the townsfolk? I think not. Give me five minutes and I'll be out of here. I have no wish to bother myself with such petty annoyances." [I]His voice was quiet, but carried a curt note. He was obviously less than impressed with a few disappearances. At last, the knight in turn showed some emotion. A hard anger, left tightly controlled, entered the voice emanating outwards,[/I] "Have you no sympathy? These people need us. Even your shrivelled heart could not refuse them that. And even your sickening skills may be necessary." [I]Lacroix smiled faintly, the most expressive gesture out of him yet. Even so, it was still a slight upturning of his lips.He nodded once, and leant back against the wall. The others argued for a moment, before standing as one. Lacroix lifted an eyebrow, and beckoned them out before him. The night was chill. Stars decorated the sky, the familiar patterns comforting when set against the aura of fear permeating the small town. Lights flickered in windows, illuminating the occasional wary face. They walked quickly, casting around for signs of anything untowards. The village proper lay close ahead, but the road seemed harshly long. The trees around them cracked slightly, whipped back and forth despite the wind being gentle. Lacroix saw very little in their murky depths, and nothing overly bothered him. Despite that, his nerves were wound as tightly as lute strings. Reaching the village, the makeshift gate was hurriedly opened, and even more hurriedly closed behind them. Small sounds drifted outwards, giving a final sense of familiarity. The group moved slower now, the short walk's ominous overtone forgotten. The local tavern lay ahead, a beacon in the dark. Music flowed outwards, along with the first sounds of laughter they had heard. But it was cut off quickly, as if the laughter was afraid to let it hang in the air. As the reached it, the group slowed even more, and peered in before entering. A whiteclad minstrel sat on a dais in one corner, patrons gathered around him. They seemed simple village folk. The minstrel, and older man, seemingly withered at this distance, looked something else. Lacroix surveyed the taproom again, before declining with a sharp headshake.[/I] "It would be best if I waited here. I think you would all be better equipped to get results when questioning that lot." Calonice looked at him sharply. Lacroix could have sworn it was in distrust. "I too, will wait with you. Should adversity crop up, you may need someone to watch your back". Lacroix's lip curled at that, but he agreed with a nod. The others walked inside. Lacroix took up a position leaning against the doorframe, Calonice on the other side. The village was quiet if one ignored the tavern. Most likely the main population was inside, seeking refuge from the oppressing night. Rumours had a way of running rampant in places like this, and peasants were more susceptible to rumour than they were to the pox. And rumours tended to escalate wildly. Chances were, most people believed scores had been killed already, without stopping to think that the village didn't have that many people in it. Lacroix looked over at Calonice, to find the knight regarding him in turn. Lacroix smiled again, sardonically, and tossed a small salute. A single touch to his forehead, before waving his hand off. The gesture betrayed amusement. And a slight contempt. Lacroix took a step away from the tavern, before gliding into a series of liquid motions known as [/I]kata[I], or a limbering exercise. He was a fluid creature, and well versed.[/I] "Very impressive". [I]Lacroix jerked, the motion at odds with his previous grace. It was not Calonice who had spoken, but Xii.[/I] "Now that you're finished, do you mind coming in? That minstrel is proving recalcitrant. He's muttering something about not being involved, and spouting quotes like he doesn't have a mind of his own." "Crass intimidation eh?". [I]Lacroix stepped in, gliding over to where the minstrel sat. The others kept talking to their respective villagers. Lacroix sat beside the man, pulling out his flask of amontillado. He offered the man some. He took a long pull, before setting the vessel down.[/I] "You have a good taste". [I]The voice was soft, a schooled storyteller's voice. Completely controlled. Lacroix acknowledged the compliment with a slight inclination of the head, and was about to say more, when a small sound reached his ears. He leapt to his feet, spinning back to the door. He noted that Xii and Alex were also on their feet. With their forest bred hearing, they had also picked up the slight noise that had so troubled him. The others, noting something was, also rose, uncertainty on their faces. The long legged ranger was the first to the door. He opened it with a slam. Lacroix, from behind him, had his view obscured, and could only look over his shoulder. And it seemed some midnight fog swirled away in that instant. That one, shocked instant, before Alex stepped forward and retched. Lacroix stepped forward, and to the left, allowing the others to view what had so sickened the ranger. By the reactions he heard, Alex was not the only one with a queasy stomach. To all appearances, Calonice had been simply torn apart. Armour and all. . Blood. Everywhere. The crimson droplets cloaked the surface for nearly a metre in all directions, and larger particles lay strewn around like child's toys, thrown with reckless abandon. The place seemed tinted, stained, desecrated. The violence in the air hung like a thick, poisonous fog, choking, clawing, scrabbling to get inside. To be released. It carried a charnel reek, of things decaying, festering, long dead and best left hidden from the light. Small things skittered around in the night, eager for the feast. Slightly larger creatures dared the light, and ambled in to sniff. Xii sent them crawling to safety with a wave of a torch. Someone, Lacroix wasn't quite sure who, closed the door, shielding them from the villager's prying eyes. He wasn't paying attention. He was focused on the blood. The ruby droplets intoxicated him, as they sent small refractions out into the waiting gloom. His own blood sang in response, flowing through him with renewed vigor. His breathing quickened, almost imperceptibly, and his eyes widened. A bizarre, savage light danced through his pupils, like a cultist's wailing abandon during foul rituals. He looked up, noting the others were still fixated, though with a more sick visage, on the gruesome spectacle. The minstrel however, was looking directly at him. Lacroix met his eyes, and slowly ran his serpentine tongue over his teeth. The seductive movement was ghastly. Jice shuddered and looked away. After an uncomfortable moments, he was driven to break the silence.[/I] "What could have killed her this way?". His voice was shaken, wavering.There was a general mutter of consternation, an almost underhanded agreement that something was not right. "She was not merely killed." Lacroix's answer was typically soft, but each word was driven like a hammer, "She was raped, violated on every level of her being. Her very self was riven from her and tormented, defiled, twisting into a diseased shadow in front of her eyes. This was, quite obviously, no natural killing." Alex stirred and looked at him sharply, shaking his head. "I've seen brutal deaths before, some as bloody as this. What makes you think this is any different?". From his voice, it wasn't too obvious who he was trying to convince. Apparently, he was more willing to deal with a ravenous beast of some sort, than any esoteric force. "Feel the air. It isn't natural", this from Percy. His voice was calm, collected, and only slightly unsteady, "You can taste the pain that hangs on the wind.".[I]Again, no one seemed willing to break the stigmatic silence. Lacroix turned and walked inside, leaving the others in the still night. He pushed through the townsfolk, heading for the bar. The bartender was a short man, compact, and slightly balding. He was calmly engaged in the time-honoured action practiced by those of his profession, wiping clean a mug that one could already use for a shaving mirror. Bartenders were like that. He seemed unperturbed, and his first question was, of course, [/I]"What can I get you?".[I]Lacroix asked for wormwood, and to his surprise, actually received some. He sipped at it, noting the others had come back inside, and were proceeding to talk with the mayor and Acantha. They could wait.[/I] "Bad", [I]Lacroix looked up, startled. The bartender leant over the counter on his elbows, asking in that discrete fashion that such people always know how to adopt. [/I]"Bad enough.".[I]Lacroix's answer was just as quiet, and grim.[/I] "Whatever tore her apart wasn't just hungry. And certainly wasn't natural." "The entire place is humming with death like a tightly wound lute. I'm surprised more people aren't outright terrified, not just nervous. And it's been this way since I got here. Partly what lead me to Aiken actually".[I]Lacroix looked at the man in surprise, taking a longer, more intense survey. The man reclined with the grace of a trained fighter. He smiled wryly, as if knowing what Lacroix was thinking, and said in a cryptic voice [/I]"We all settle down some day".[I]He looked as if he was about to say more, but a shout from Burman drew Lacroix over.[/I] "I see you've met the reprehensible Dharin.",[I]The mayor's voice was profoundly disapproving.[/I], "He's been spouting nonsense about some 'gathering darkness' ever since he got here. I wouldn't be surprised if he was doing all this just to stop looking like a fool.". [I]Lacroix shook his head, wondering exactly how it was that some people could never except help from people they'd already formed opinions about. He reached out, digging his fingers into Burman's cheeks, and turning his head towards the door.[/I] "So you think he did that, just because he doesn't come from this village, and happens to know what he is talking about!", [I]Lacroix's voice rose with the second part, the loudest it had been heard so far. Burman quavered, and tried to speak. Lacroix dug his fingers in harder, and twisted slightly. Burman slapped ineffectually. Lacroix ignored him, looking around.[/I] "Our goodman Dharin here is an outsider, as I'm sure you've noticed. He also says he's been feeling a strange miasma hanging over this town for a while. Believe me, he knows what he's talking about." "Then what do we suggest we do, apart from manhandling and assulting decent, upstanding members of a community who want nothing more than to help their people, even to the point of mistakingly trusting outsiders of questionable moral natures?". [I]Burman had wrenched his mouth free, and was rubbing it in the midst of his tirade. Lacroix gave a humourless laugh.[/I] "Simple. We find out what the hell whatever is doing this wants." "And how do we do that." "Well, first, we need a comprehensive history of Aiken." [I]Lacroix looked at Acantha expectantly. The others slowly did too. Even Burman quietened, albeitly sullenly, and payed attention. Dharin drifted over, ignoring the other patrons. Acantha took a long breath, and started to speak.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Nice to know I'm appreciated. It's also nice to know that I'm god, but that's different. Anyway, it's been a while, so bear with the mistakes. Name:Dalamar Age: 200 something, I think Race: "Dark" Silvanesti Weapon(s): Ahem. Spells: Soul Drain, Eldritch Darkness, Barren Heart, Festering Bite, assorted others. I'm a bloody archmage, after all. Apperance:Tall, thin, and typically elvish. Black hair, pale skin, dark eyes. Wears a black robe. Only real distinguishing feature in the scar on his chest. Five long, taloned fingers, and it still pulsates. Put their by Raistlin Majere. Bio: Born in Silvanesti, kicked out for practicing his arts, and basically for choosing the black robe. Ended up in the Wayreth (I think?) Tower. Currently the head of the Black Robe order. Or something. Fill me in on what I missed.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Just allow me to say, having just experienced two days with nothing but military ration packs for food, the idea that if we knew what we were eating, we wouldn't eat as much is a certainty in that regard. Believe me, not pretty.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]*sigh* And I thought I'd found a prodigy. Ah well. Ever such are the winds of fate. And god damn first year cadets doing their damn observation lessons while I'm hiding in the bush twent metres away!!!!![/font] [/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I can only listen to Ana's Song and Miss You Love these days. I hate everything else now.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]OOC: God damn it. You just don't give up do you? Name: Aleksandr Kalwolski Age: 23 Badge Number: Not applicable Equipment or weaponry: Notepad, pen, pain in the *** attitude. Description: Six foot tall, shoulder length hair, dyed black. He's Russian by the way. Wears long black clothing, a carryover from his former home. Dave knows the drill. Bio: Russian journalist. Came to America at the age of 19. Started investigating the weird, the paranormal, the darker side of life. As such, the police tend not to like him. He tends to get in the way. Not that he cares.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]I'll take Dalamar, I just don't have time right now. Besides, who else would be better for him than me? I mean, come on...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Rali reached the branch she was sitting on, reclining against it, looking at her idly. She looked up at him, smiling. He looked back, one corner of his mouth coming up. He took a step forward, placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, half surprised, and probably half affronted. He didn't give her a chance to react. He leapt to the side, and they both fell out of the tree. He landed on his feet. She landed in his arms. And not even on purpose.[/i] Rali: Interesting. [i]She stepped down, looking at him in derision. He gave another cryptic smile back.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]*Reads, then re-reads Toshigoku's post* Egads, a newbie who actually makes quality posts! What has this world come to?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]As Mini-Elysan burst into the throne room, Mini-Harlequin and Mini-Minstrel ran forward. Mini-Harlequin was slightly ahead, and as Mini-Minstrel ran faster to try and beat him, Mini-Harlequin stopped and stuck a foot out. His adversary tumbled head over heels, nearly wiping out Mini-Elysan. Mini-Harlequin casually strolled up, while a long suffering scribe noted down an extra point to him. Current score: Mini Harlequin: 1478. Mini Minstrel: 1236.[/I] Mini-Harlequin: Ah milady, by the frown that doth darken they fair countenance, one must asume thy esoteric arts have been unable to find the Queen as well. Mini-Elysan: And you two fools don't know where she is either? [I]Mini-Harlequin gave a sniff of derision, and looked to Mini-Minstrel, who as regaining his feet.[/I] Mini-Harlequin: At least I'm a professional fool, and even then, only on business. He just doesn't have a choice in the matter. Mini-Minstrel: Nor do I need one, when compared with you. Mini-Elysan: Stop bickering! Both of you! Come with me, we need to find the Queen. Mini-Harlequin: You don't say...[/font][/color]