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Post by Uriel Bernardo on Dec 12, 2006 19:11:40 GMT -5
*The symbol of strength that embodies the image of darkness on earth. An architectural feat to be honored for centuries, even after its actually construction, the Black Spire is to the rest of the known world the capital building of Damian’s small empire. The structure resembles that of a guard/watch tower, and actually was built with a similar purpose in mind…
Centuries ago, before even the reign of the Demon King, there was the reign of Zjevha, a god of death, darkness, and destruction. With his powers he made the island of Azia, to serve as his base camp to invading the rest of the world. Under the Black Spire, which he erected at the northern end of the small island, he made the demonic city of Astralious, where all his creatures of darkness were born. The city was enormous, encompassing the entire island and then some underground. Aside from this, Zjevha made two other means of accessing Astralious. The first were a series of complicated tunnels which later became home to one of Zjevha’s most trusted follower’s, Garr. Thus, nowadays the tunnels are simple called the Tunnels of Garr. The second, and final, way to enter Astralious is through the shrine which Zjevha’s minions built in his honor. The temple runs deep into the earth, and eventually leads out into Astralious, if you happen to live past all the secrets it holds.
...Above ground, the Black Spire reaches a staggering 75 feet at its highest peak, but the part below ground is said to be even longer than that. Upon entering the twin metal doors of the Black Spire, which are accessed at ground level, one is presented with a circular room, about 20 feet in diameter. In the center of the room, is the never ending spiral staircase, as it is called due to its sheer length. To follow the stairs down, into the depths of the earth, would award the visitor with a glimpse of the ancient city of Astralious. Too ascend the staircase; one would eventually come to a single circular room at the very top of the spire, which is the equivalent of the throne room in most castles. There are several items in the room, but mainly at the far end is the chair which Damian sits at when meeting with his “Shadow Generals”. This is the only visible room in the entire structure, but if one is an adept at sensing magic then they would discover several hidden rooms which serve as living quarters. An interesting fact about the Black Spire, is that it lacks a single window in its entirety.*
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Post by Adam on Dec 17, 2006 12:31:30 GMT -5
The door slammed shut as Celamir arrived at the spire. He raced to the stairs wanting to get to the throne room as quickly as possible, which was always some time. Each step seemed an eternity, it was designed no doubt this way, with each room being a possibility, then upon entering, your world came crushing down as you had to climb even more, by the time you reached the room, you were tired both physically and mentally, the ruler of this place had full control of you if you were weak minded.
Finally many times later that day it was reached, the room he longed to see. He opened it up, revealing the room he was drawn to, as ever when his master beckoned, he came rushing to him, yet the Elf had no idea of the corruption of his mind. He stumbled forth, gliding onto one knee once he was in the correct distance from his lord. His head was bowed, his dark hair masking his face. He spoke in his usual deep voice, which was not like he once had.
"My lord, I am here, what is your bidding."
So many voices were in Celamir's head, some were telling him this was totally wrong, that he would bow down to such a person, yet he was clouded by many other voices, all to the bidding of Damian, all telling the Elf to do as he said, and not to go out of line, and he followed these, the weak minded Elf, nothing more than a puppet, however he was not totally gone, unlike most of the lord's victims, Celamir still had some of his old thoughts, which made him even more oblivious to what was currently happening.
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Post by Uriel Bernardo on Dec 17, 2006 14:07:16 GMT -5
*As Celamir entered the room, he was not alone with Damian. Standing on both sides of Damian, were two other members of the Shadow General’s who were of high rank; Edata and Thul’Darus. As the newly recruited Elf took a knee before him, Damian looked at him and for a moment felt pity for the way he was treating him. To ensure that the elf remained loyal, Damian was using his dark magic’s to have voices speak in his mind. The voices never acted hostile, but merely made sure that the elf saw that working with Damian was far smarter than plotting against him. Before addressing Celamir, Damian had to finish up with the other two generals. Lowering his head, allowing his black hair to form a veil around his face, Damian addressed the pair.*
[Maroon]“Thul’Darus, the army is ready to move on a whim, correct…?”[/Maroon]
[Purple]“Yes, milord… They simply await your order…”[/Purple]
[Maroon]“I see… Edata, your mission was a success, no doubt?”[/Maroon]
[Blue]“Target was eliminated, milord…”[/Blue]
[Maroon]“Good… Now, leave me alone with Celamir, we must discuss a matter of importance.”[/Maroon]
*Edata, with a simple nod of her head, swiftly made for the door. Her movements were graceful, yet seemed so precise that you had to wonder what part of everyday life she didn’t plan out. Thul’Darus, on the other hand, glared at Celamir out of the corner of his eyes, before making his way out of the throne room. Damian, now focused on Celamir, missed the subtle exchange between the pair. Motioning for the elf to raise, Damian wasted no time is speaking.*
[Maroon] “It has come to my attention that someone I believed dead, is very much alive… You might recall this demon’s name, for it once lay waste to the land and all it’s people decades ago… Ateaz Xandanzes… Or more commonly known as, Cyrax…”[/Maroon]
*That name alone struck a cord deep inside Damian that made his anger flare more uncontrollably than ever before witnessed by the elf. His eyes began pulsating a vibrant red and the black hair that once shielded his face from the elf, was now being blown upwards by the intense energy that was released from his body. Papers scattered across a nearby desk went flying about the room, quickly all coming towards Celamir, swirling around the elf at a pace far faster than the eye could perceive. The few lights that once illuminated the windowless room quickly extinguished from the onslaught of energy that swept through the room. However, just as quickly as the release of anger occurred, it was put back under control. Damian’s eyes returned to their normal blood red color, his hair fell once again back around his face, the papers that swirled around Celamir quickly fell to the floor in a heap, and the unlit candles quickly rekindled their burning. Whether or not Celamir remembered the name of this demon, it was obvious that his existence bothered Damian beyond measure.*
[Maroon]“Your task, Celamir, is to find his location in this world. Do not engage him, but simply scout around and determine if he has an army of sorts. Once you’ve gathered enough information, make haste back here, because I wish to know everything…”[/Maroon]
*With that said, it was obvious that Damian was through with speaking. A spell book, which apparently had been resting in the demon’s lap the whole time, quickly flew open to a page and Damian began reading it’s contents, almost unaware of his surroundings he was so absorbed in the material before him.*
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Post by Adam on Dec 17, 2006 17:00:52 GMT -5
Celamir smirked as the papers flew about him, dancing in aggressive and anger filled merryment, which soon subsided causing the maps, scout reports and other notes to fall briskly to the floor. The Elf remained unharmed as he raised from the ground, he was told not to move by the voices and he obeyed and listened careful to what was to be said. Cyrax was a name someone of his age knew all to well, he had to help fight against him, however back then he was a solo ranger, only after loot from the great war, but none the less he was there, and knew all to well the terror that the Demon could cause.
"I know of him well, I shall do my best to scout the menace out and report it to you my lord. I will move in the shadows and in the background, he will not know of me, and not of you. I shall not fail you."
With that he nodded, and raised his head from it's previous bowed location and begun to leave the room. He knew what he had to do, and knew it would be very difficult, Cyrax was dangerous, far more than Celamir, no doubt he could dodge arrows with simple spells, and ignite the Elf before he even got close, it would need skill, but this was Celamir's speciality.
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Post by Adam on Dec 23, 2006 8:16:46 GMT -5
They landed with elegance, the Dragon slowed down from a run to a walk, making his first steps in the lands of Damian, and the two Elves hopped off landing on he floor. They turned around to look at Smite, but instead saw a Human standing there. Donatus looked about, curious as to where the Dragon went, but Celamir knowing this humanoid was in fact the great Dragon. The Human walked off towards the great tower, sensing the magic coming from it, but turned around with a smile on his face.
"Your mind is clouded dear Elf. It is a spell I know all to well." Smite looked at the Elf who didn't know what it ment. "What do you mean?" The Elf replied, and quickly the Dragon spoke. "Your master has you under a light spell, enough to manipulate you, yet not enough to make you realise. You have voices is in your head, no?"
The Elf did not reply, but instead showed the way to the tower, which the two other beings followed in unison, the Dragon, which now looked Human walked in the middle as they entered the doors and quickly begun to travel up the spiral staircase. Which soon enough led them to the room of Damian Thakis.
Smite held his power back, which was especially easy in his weakest form which was his Human shape. He looked towards the chair the master of the land sat in, and with a smirk begun to walk about the room, half mocking, and half curious. He never did show that much respect to people like Damian, thinking magic would protect them, afterall brainwashing was a cowards way of hiding, and that was all Damian was, a coward, cowering in his large tower, blocked off by an army of summoned minions... it was pathetic.
Finally Celamir spoke, with a slightly annoyed look at how Smite was acting, he could get his master annoyed if he carried on, and god knows what would happen then. "Master, introducing you to the King of Dragons. Smite the Almighty. Slayer of the Demon King, and defeater of Cyrax." Celamir got down onto one knee in respect and bowed his head. As this happened Smite turned around, as soon as Damian blinked he would see no longer a human, but a Dragon.
"Greeting Lord Damian Thakis." Even with a Dragon's face, the smirk of the Dragon could be seen, the tail of Smite seemed to wag in a happy sort of way, as if he waited an answer with much anticipation. Smite only changed forms for defence, his Dragon skin was the perfect anti-magic armour, and it was grown naturally. With a puff of smoke from his nostrils Celamir fell to the floor holding his head, Smite's face increasing a grin, two super powers of Magic in the same room, how would this meeting fair?
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Post by Uriel Bernardo on Dec 27, 2006 18:49:28 GMT -5
Mastering the art of manipulation was easy for those who could do more than dabble in the dark arts, but it was still tedious business. Magic must always be influencing the subject, or the threat of them possibly figuring it out could arise, which never ends well. Damian doesn’t use such manipulation out of fear, but instead uses it because it is easier than forcing submission. Submission requires unnecessary force, and there is always the looming thought they may try and get revenge at the worst possible time. With manipulation, however, all these problems can be handled easier and when Damian wills it.
Damian was in the middle of, once again, reading through the spell book attained from the realm of Arcamenel when Celamir, Donatus, and the disguised Smite entered. Damian looked over the newcomer, sensing something from the human, but unable to point it out. It was a feeling of recognition, like he’d felt the power this being held before, but couldn’t remember where. His exterior was unimpressive, and Damian contemplated berating Celamir and his friend for bringing him here, but that was all changed after the elf’s introduction of the guest. One moment Damian was gazing at an average human, the next, he was staring into the ancient eyes of the dragon king Smite, or rather, the former king of dragons. Many rumors had arisen since his mysterious disappearance from this realm, the punch line being he’d died in some fashion, but obviously these were all untrue.
The dragon greeted him, and showed a smirk of dominance, or so Damian perceived it as. For two decades there had been only five names that all shared a common thread; they were the best. Stratus, Zjevha, Smite, Cyrax, and Damian, the latest addition to that elite group. The five of them were all considered the most powerful beings in the world, causing people to argue over their feats out of anger, jealous, hatred, or even admiration. However, the five were all powerful, but most beings of great power never see eye to eye…
[Maroon]“Well, this is an unexpected visit… What occasion has made it meaningful for the great Dragon King to visit my humble abode…? Oh, sorry for getting off topic already, but I never got the chance to ask how your encounter with my old master went. Obviously he’s still alive, much to my displeasure…”[/Maroon]
His voice was cordial, but the gleam in his eye showed he was intrigued and oddly excited about this surprise visit. Damian was a constant seeker of magic, always wanting to stretch his limits, and what better creature to learn from than the all powerful dragons? At the slightest mention of his former master, the flare of ego changed quickly into a roaring flame of hatred as Damian’s magical presence began to grow with his increased rage. However, remembering his guest, the Dark Master slowly worked himself back under control, and gave the Dragon King his own smirk, before waving a hand to indicate Celamir and his friend to leave them alone. The two, knowing full well what could come of this encounter, left without a rebuttal, and as soon as the door closed a large table in the corner of the room floated up against the door, barring any more intrusions…
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Post by Adam on Dec 27, 2006 19:15:31 GMT -5
The Elves left quickly, Donatus grabbed Celamir off the floor and dragging him out so it seemed. Now Smite and Damian stood face to face, the Dragon grinned more so as they were alone, and at the signs of anger in Damian. The Dragon yawned, a flicker of fire coming out of his mouth as it did so, well a flicker for him, but more like some sort of Demonic spell as the flames reached up the roof, and if the room was not already black, it would now be stained with sutt.
"Cyrax fled, frightened, his tail caught between his legs. He is a wimp, worth nothing, not even my time. Through all the knowledge he had learned in the Arcane, he failed to gain knowledge of the races of this world, if he did he would have known Dragons have a natural high defence against magic, and I more so than most. The only way to beat me comfortably would be if someone was extremely good at close quarters, but I have not seen such a being to exist..."
He grinned still and looked at a few books lying upon the tables and laughed to himself, like he wrote one of them or something and long ago threw it out. It was amusing when people thought these spells to be a new and exciting thing, but he knew of them long before.(Sorry g2g to bed )
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Post by Uriel Bernardo on Dec 27, 2006 21:57:42 GMT -5
Damian watched Smite with interest. He’d never actually met the dragon before, but had seen pictures and heard much about him. The mental image he’d drawn for so long didn’t quite match what stood before him… He was a little smaller than Damian expected. At any rate, Damian knew far too well not to judge people based on size or appearance. Cyrax had yet to learn such an important lesson.
[Maroon]“For all the knowledge he holds about magic, he can be as careless as a small child… It is common knowledge among us magic users that dragons are our biggest challenge…”[/Maroon]
At the comment about not knowing of a being strong enough to defeat him yet, Damian raised an eyebrow. Either Smite was trying to provoke a reaction out of him, or the dragon was that naïve. Of all the beings in the world considered ‘great,’ Smite was actually, in years, the youngest of them all. Damian was older than him, by only a hundred years or so, but 100 years is not something to be merely shrugged off. It was then that Damian caught the glance at his spell books, and saw the amused look. At first, Damian wanted to berate the dragon, stand and show him what true magical prowess was like, but his better judgment kept him from acting so foolishly. If the dragon thought Damian only delved into an everyday spell book, then he’d have one hell of a surprise if they battled.
[Maroon]“So, like I asked before, Smite… What brings you to my island…?”[/Maroon]
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Post by Adam on Dec 28, 2006 11:37:53 GMT -5
Smite was too far into his looking about the place to take much notice of Damian. He picked up a book and shook some dust of and replaced it. With a clean swiped the book opened revealing ancient magic, several of which Smite had not seen before, but he could quickly learn it at a later stage, it seemed reasonably simple. Finally Smite remembered the words of his host and replied to him in his usual casual, and deep tone.
“Your little Elf servants came and found me while I was in my Dragon form. They said you might want to see me because you gave me Cyrax to fight, I did not practically see the need to say thank you, but if it is what you want, then you shall have it.” He looked at Damian, and could tell he seemed surprised at his look, and so he decided to give a little information to the Demon who so longest for knowledge. “I am a lot smaller than you had imagined I assume. I put a spell on myself, because simply I had enough of everyone kissing my ass 24/7, I gather this is why you live on this isolated island, for the same reason?”
Smite carried on looking at the many scrolls and books, most of magic he long knew, and the occasional Demon spell, he had not had the pleasure of seeing, a few he worried about, because some spells even a Dragon could not deal with were in this very room. “You see, I am reported dead, many suggest Cyrax killed me, how very unlikely. I want this kept as it is, if people know I live, I will never here the end of people wanting my power on their side like back during the alliances of old.”
He stared at the magician now, coldly, knowing this Demon could if he so wished blackmail the old Dragon, if he was as cunning as many suggested, or he might simply accept the terms, and they talk about another subject or leave. However Smite did not hold his breath it would be so easy to leave, no doubt like most deals with Demons, they would something in return…
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Post by Uriel Bernardo on Dec 28, 2006 13:26:16 GMT -5
As Damian listened to Smite talk, he couldn’t help but notice the occasional glances at his scrolls and spell books. It was intriguing to see how the dragon reacted to the different opened pages, but Damian was concerned inside, if the dragon would try something foolish enough as to destroy his books. With a glance about the room, all the opened spell books and scrolls quickly closed, or folded back up. Returning his attention back to Smite, Damian smiled politely, but with a hint of condescending in his gaze.
[Maroon]“Precisely, my dear friend… I have no interest in the affairs of the world, only my own, thus I live in seclusion here. As I’m sure you know, I’m not the only resident of this island, and only a fool would try and expand their territory here.”[/Maroon]
As Damian listened to Smite speak once again, he sensed something approaching his island. He’d been following the power since it had appeared only earlier that day, and was almost surprised at how much ground, and sea, had been covered. It was none other than the vengeful vampire temptress Raven Von Winter, or as Damian liked to call her, Deianeira. She’d taken a drink from one of Cyrax’s clone earlier, and thus his blood was now coursing through her veins, allowing Damian to detect her, just as he followed Cyrax’s movements. Returning to the guest already present, Damian replied to the Dragon’s request, but with his own twist. Smite was no fool, and was correct in assuming Damian would want something in return. Not many demons give out of the goodness of their hearts..
[Maroon]“So, let me see if I understand what you’re asking of me…”[/Maroon]
Rising from his throne, Damian began to stroll towards the dragon, hands held together behind his back. His veil of black hair covering more of his face than usual, because he had it tilted towards the floor more, watching his steps with unknown interest. He stopped just in front of the dragon, easily putting himself in harms way, but if Smite had come to fight, they’d be at it already.
[Maroon]“You want me to keep your existence a secret from whom ever it may concern, correct? Because, you don’t want to get involved in the affairs of the petty races of this realm, which I’m assuming I fall in with…”[/Maroon]
Raising his head to look Smite directly in the eyes, Damian smiled once more before speaking in a tone universal to all races. It was the tone of someone who was now given the upper hand in a conversation, and was about to capitalize on it.
[Maroon] “I’ll agree to your request, Smite, but you must do something for me as well… You wish to hide your power, but I on the other hand, wish for everyone to know mine… The deal is, that you grant me some of your power, which in return, will make it harder for you to detect, even from myself… Sounds fair, right? We both will gain something we want…”[/Maroon]
After finishing his reply, Damian outstretched his right hand, showing Smite that he was entirely serious about his demands. If the dragon wished to accept the terms, then all he had to do would be to shake Damian’s hand, and the magical transfer would begin. However, if he didn't want to accept, then it was up to the dragon on how he wanted to handle the alternative.
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Post by Adam on Dec 28, 2006 13:51:51 GMT -5
“Expectable indeed, but cowardly. So, the great Damian feels threatened by something, what may that be? I hear of another mightier in the arts of Magic than either you, or myself, could it be that… thing? Or is it purely for your own uses that you think I take my powers so lightly as to hand them over to you.” Smite watched the books and scrolls close with a harsh thud and then his anger grew. Steam blew from his nostrils the next few breaths, a clear warning sign of a Dragon that he is contemplating attacking.
“We both know who would win if we fought, and don’t think because I am smaller I am weaker, in fact I am far more deadly. Now here is the new deal, you will keep your mouth shut about me, and I will not destroy you, and you can survive… or… you can decline, and we can settle this in other means.” He smirked and walked closer to Damian, his wings stretched, preparing his body for the possible fight which could break out, and his neck cracked as he titled it, further preparing himself.
“Of course, feel free to do your own counter offer.” His breathing was high, preparing his body for physical exercise, he actually fancied a fight, it was the right weather, and he felt suddenly in the mood for it, which was never good for his enemies, as he always seemed to slaughter his enemies rather than simply beat them when he felt like this.
Smite’s height on 4 legs was about ¾ that of Damian, his muscles flexed with anticipation, and each outward breath produced a puff of smoke and steam. It was evident the power the Dragon possessed as the room became harder the breath in, and an ordinary morale would simple faint from the new environment being produced. Humidity filled the air and Smite was ready for combat.
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Post by Uriel Bernardo on Dec 28, 2006 14:29:50 GMT -5
Damian listened, and as Smite got his body ready for battle, so did Damian. His eyes began to pulsate blood red, and his magical powers began to emanate from his body. His robes, and hair, began to lift slightly, as if gravity had been lessened slightly. His facial expression, however hand not changed. His smile was still plastered on and his craving for magic was now more apparent in his eyes than ever before.
[Maroon]“I find it interesting, that you would come to my island, and make such demands… I think you are forgetting whose territory you’re in now, Dragon Lord… And if you would like my advice, I’d suggest you remember your place.”[/Maroon]
By now Damian had black magic flowing freely, almost like smoke from a cigarette, flowing freely from his fingertips. His hand was still extended, but if Smite made a single move towards him, the hand would turn into a weapon. Damian had no interest actually fighting Smite, but if he was able to defeat the dragon, he would be able to gain a level of magical abilities that no one in the known world had reached. It was tempting, but the problem was that time was against him. Raven Von Winter would be arriving on his island soon, and if he was to do battle with the Dragon Lord, he would have to give it his all, but that would result in the vampire being able to easily defeat him afterwards. Was it worth the risk…? Without a doubt. His voice, taking on a much deeper tone, and resounding in the room like it was spoken through a speaker, might have taken most by surprise, but Damian knew Smite would be well acquainted with the sound.
[Maroon]“I make the rules here, and you follow them! I’ve given you my offer, and either you accept or you don’t! And if you don’t, then I advise you make a hasty withdraw, or we will see who would come out of this alive. I guarantee it wouldn’t be you, Smite.”[/Maroon]
The last sentence was spoken with such intensity that it almost was drowning in hatred. Damian once been a level headed magician, but after his battle with Cyrax, and meeting up with Thul’Darus, he began to indulge in the dark magic’s to a point where he was almost consumed by it. It wasn’t that he lost control of himself, it was that his emotions became more… prevalent.
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Post by Adam on Dec 28, 2006 15:21:30 GMT -5
“I see the host loses his rattle, a shame to say the least Mr Thakis. It matters little where I am; I still come out on top. I was sent to Cyrax’s realm, and I still won, I fought at the Dark Gate, and I still won. You think just because you have cowered up here for many years in safety, that it will save you now. You are less intelligent than I first had you down Damian, a pity, I hear you are quite the capable magic user.” Smite kept the same calm tone as always, preferring to annoy his opponent with a mocking tone of voice, rather than stoop down his level.
He looked at the hands and smirked in his normal way. “That’s not a good way to treat a guest, didn’t your mommy ever tell you not to point? O dear what did they teach your generation…” He yawned after the last sentence once more showing 0% fear of his surroundings or his seemingly new opponent who also prepared for battle. The last 20 years had turned Smite into a much more laid back being, he liked to watch his enemies get worked up to the point of breaking before he finally attacked, and Damian seemed the perfect Demon to once more do this to.
“So Damian? Anymore fancy little tricks you have cooking, perhaps you could levitate a bit, or make lightning crash outside, I am sure that would make me tremble with fear…” His grin widened even more, and a laugh escaped his lips, which died for a release of laughter. He was so amused at the old school way Damian was presenting himself, like the big bad Demon, it was rather pathetic and so common it no longer held any sort of respect in Smite’s head.
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Post by Uriel Bernardo on Dec 28, 2006 15:38:27 GMT -5
As Smite attempted to taunt Damian, he continued to hold his smile, which was now looking more condescending than anything. For all the talk about Smite, he was showing little to back it up. Words are a fools way of fighting, and display no skill or talent. Words are words, and that is all they are, nothing more. If Smite thought that Damian could be taunted so easily, he was severely mistaken. With his fingers still emanating dark magic’s, he raised his right and with little warning - snapped.
In the blink of an eye, the pair were no longer within the confines of Damian’s throne room, but now standing on the top of the Black Spire. Mist covered the top of the spire, just as it covered the whole island, but that didn’t bother Damian. He was beyond relying on simply sight, he could feel where Smite was now that he’d met the dragon and knew his aura. Extending his right hand outward, to the side, black mist once again took form, except slowly morphed into Revenge, Damian’s legendary blade.
[Maroon]“I’m uneducated? Did you happen to miss the lesson about respecting your elders? Now, I give you one more chance. You can leave, and I’ll spread the word about your existence… or… you can give me your magic, and I’ll keep your secret. Take your pick, Smite, because I have more important people to deal with today than a dragon who is only a hollowed shell of his former self… The Smite I once knew about wouldn‘t be asking for a life of hiding… You‘re the coward.”[/Maroon]
Pointing his sword towards Smite, Damian was giving him his final warning. The dragon had but two choices, and he was to make the decision now. One allowed him to live the life he apparently wanted, or he could regret his decision here for the rest of eternity in hell. It was entirely his choice.
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Post by Adam on Dec 28, 2006 15:56:35 GMT -5
"You see, you are talented when you want to be. Now back to business. I would probably have agreed, yet it's the fact I would be permanently giving you it, and giving up my own abilities. I have given many people skills and powers, yet I did not give them up, I just gave them a sort of copy. I was reading a few of your books, and I would be highly surprised if you actually didn't know something I had, for most of what I use, you have written down in books.”
Smite looked at the Demon and thought more of the offer he had previously rejected, it some ways he wanted to, it would save him a lot of bother, and he was quickly getting fed up with his opponent who failed to bite onto the bait. “I will give you more power, but in a way it does not lessen mine. That I feel it is fairer. I may be the great Smite, one of your rivals in many ways, yet I do not go out seeking fights. You gave me 2 options, I am adding my own into this discussion, I believe that is more than fair also.”
“So Damian, you have a few options, you can accept my terms, I will grant you powers that you wished, but not lowering my own. You could fight me, and see how far we both get. Or, well this I had just thought of, call it a good will gesture. I will grant you a favour, and I do not mean to give you the powers that you want in the way you want, but something such as killing someone, giving you a certain very valuable spell, stuff like that or something else you want.” Smite held his ground, feeling Damian coming closer ever so slightly, and knowing he was fully in sight of the Demon.
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