Old December 12, 2004, 12:45 PM   #1 (permalink)
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Scroll [location] Malice Gates

The only way to enter the city of Malice was to follow a road, either from Zerdergia in the north, or from Arconis in the east. When both these roads joined to meet Malice, they ended in a large field around the decadent city. Two cyclopian towers stood next to the road when it entered the outskirts of the 'city', for Malice was arranged so that the ancient fortress dominated the wasteland which surrounded it, which was in turn encircled by a clear field of grass and uprooted trees two mile wide. The Malician orcs had been extremely busy.

These towers that flanked the large road were of similar orcish enginuity, and mainly stood there to inform the traveler of his entrance into the decadent city. There was no city wall as these outsides were dominated by the orcish horde who had dug gigantic vaults, numerous trenches each with spikes and small camps. The earth there had been burned black by the soot that came from their crude forges, it had been turned red by their fueds and constant bikering, it had been flattened by their constant marching. It had become a permanent battlefield.

It was the best thing for defense, for it ensured, with all it's little deathtraps, towers and hidden vaults that no one could enter Malice unless by the main road.

When nearing the entrance to the castle, which harboured the actual underground city, there was a plethora of guards available to inspect those who wished to enter. They asked few questions and asked for no visa; they merely wanted to see the face and the purse of those who would enter. These guards were all of human or elven descent; although it was impossible to tell from the heavily decorated helmets and armours they wore, for each soldier brought his own equipment and each was thus armed differently, if not viciously and explicity. Weapons of choice were those that inflicted the most carnage; Flails, flanged maces, barbed spears and pikes as well as daggers and morningstars. The most common armour was a mixture of platemail and chainmail, for excellent protection combined with adequate movement, although now and again someone would show up in leather, confident that their natural agility would save their skin if there was trouble. Their armour was often adorned with short spikes and blades all over, imposing as well as cruel. The heads of their enemies were often used to decorate their helms, which were often heavy affairs, which large horns which seemingly increased their imposing size. It was obvious also from their rough demeanour that these men were not raw recruits, they were veterans, mercenaries and the cruelest of thugs.

Beyond the gates, it looked even worse.
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Old January 8, 2005, 01:19 PM   #2 (permalink)
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(OOC: Self modded with permission from GD Apophis)

A lone figure slowly moved down the main road leading to Malice, a bit of dust flying up with every step he took along the sandy roads. The figure was actually Arkahn, dressed in a verry common brown robe, the hood pulled over his head, shielding his face. The Tigron Commander had left his usual equipment back at Daltina, not even taking with him a single weapon. His self-imposed mission was easy. Get inside Malice and look around for a bit. See what the place was all about. During his stay there he would need a cover, a reason to be in that blasted place. He had decided on training, both useful and believable. Afterall, Malicians were reputed to fight dirty, and Arkahn had no qualms with that.

Instead of his usual uniform like clothing the Katta had dug up his old traveling clothes. A now very tight fitting, sleeveless green shirt and some gray trousers, mottled with stains and mud. Over the travelling clothes the Tigron wore a robe, stored inside a pouch with quite some money, all he needed to have on him for this little mission. Weapons and armour would be useless. If he was found out he'd be overwhelmed, and that would be the end. Period.

The massive amount of guards worried Arkahn a bit. Only one had to recognise him from tales or rumours and he would be done for, but that would be of later concern. Right now he just needed to get in. If something went wrong... Well, he'd just see about that then. Slowly the Tigron threw back the hood covering his head, revealing ears tattered from battle and a large gaping hole where his left eye used to be. He had left his eyepatch behind, as it would prove to much of a distinct mark. Slowly he approached a guard, one as big as he was himself. For a moment the Tigron was amused by the imposing size of those guards. What he wouldn't give to have men like these on his side, serving in his army. It didn't take the guard long to notice the Tigron. Slowly he swaggered up to him, grinning a set of ugly looking teeth bare. His nose was hooked like that of an eagle and his hairline was drawn back with age. "Who are you? " The guard said in a gruff tone. Arkahn had prepared himself for this question already. "They call me Eye." He said, vaguely motioning towards the gaping hole in his face.

Now it was time to work a bit. Slip the guard a few crowns, make him look the other way and maybe even get some information.
"What's yours?" Arkahn said, nodding at the guard in front of him who seemed to know what game Arkahn wanted to play. With a crooked smile, one which showed all of his disgusting teeth the guard answered. "Remkes, but I can't believe your parents called you Eye..." The man's voice trailed of for a bit, indicating to Arkahn to hook in on it.

Slowly the Tigron opened his robe, showing he meant no harm and that he didn't have any weapons stored inside before reaching into his pocket with one hand. "Well, Remkes... What my parents called me is not something I'm proud of." Arkahn said with a wide grin, taking out some 50 crowns and offering them to Remkes in a closed fist. "So what if I gave you a few crowns. Call it a gift from me to you. All you have to do is look the other way and forget about my name. And if you feel you might want another gift, then tell me where I might find a place to learn how to fight."

Slowly the guard extended his hand, nodding at Arkahn. "You are a good friend Tigron, but I seem to have forgotten your name. Ah well, I see so many people every brightning I tend to loose track of names. But if it's a trainer you're looking for, go see Merl in his bar. He knows everyone who is someone." The Guard said with a wink, waiting patiently for Arkahn to count out another 30 crowns and handing them over to him before turning around and harrassing another citizen.
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Old January 25, 2005, 01:27 PM   #3 (permalink)
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As Eris trailed the road ahead she could tell that by her own behavior she was nervous upon her travel to this city. There was much about malice that left Eris uneasy, whether it was the cruelly armed guards or there tendency to look at her like a piece of meat. It was not a good feeling, and the grim palace of chaos and despair was unfortunately another place that Eris needed to enter to retrieve what she desired. And that was explicit training to become a true assassin, not a rogue or a murderer or even a bounty hunter. Eris cared not for the worth of people as much as she cared for the worth of treasure, she would rather steal then kill a person and then heave there body around the empire trying to collect a bounty. Or in other circumstances would rather kill a target and be payed for it outright, rather then have to conform to restrictions and regulations that could get her killed unpleasantly.

Eris was wearing her sandy brown cloak which adorned no hood but rather a large turtle neck which veiled her mouth and nose from certain angles. Which left one able to gaze into her hypnotically euphoric aqua green eyes that ravenously scanned the area for what she desired. Eris wanted to collect a few things Knife Training, Stealth and acrobatics all in one neat package.

As Eris closed in towards the door she was halted briefly by a guard who did not asked questions, he looked her over and then after evaluating that she was not a threat let her pass through without even asking for her visa. The mechanics of this place were startling, if they allowed anyone and everyone to enter at will then it made Eris question the other types of people that could be dwelling deep below in the bowls of this dark and grim cavern known as malice.

Once through the gates, Eris was left free to explore the city and its wonders or horrors.

"Dieser Platz ist furchtsam"

Mumbling in some sort of jargen, Eris continued onward.
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Old March 10, 2005, 06:11 AM   #4 (permalink)
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Early Autumn Era XI

Grosnock stopped in his tracks as he the spires of Malice peaking around the mountains he had just rode by. It was an intimidating sight to say the least. It had all the features of a fairytale's villain's residence except it was a full city. The Orc took a flask of booze from his belt and took a swig as he watched a dull sun set behind the black city. This was where the real scum made there home and the real warriors made a name. Grosnock smiled to himself and replaced the cork on his flask, returning it to his waist. It was time to test his metal against some real opponents. He hit the road once again with a new sense of urgency and a gleam in his eye.

"Halt there Orc!" A gaurd spat at Grosnock as he attempted to walk by him through the city gates. "Let's see your Visa then"

Grosnock swung his backpack to the floor and dug into it's recess's for his visa all the while staring into the humans eyes with a scornful look. Why was it that no matter where he went the damn gaurds treated him like this. Either it's some nice quiet village who fear Orcs, an imperial city who hate them or a breeding place for scum who know not of decency and acceptance. He threw his visa at him and held out his hand waiting for him to return it.

"I'm not sure these are in order sir" the gaurd said sarcastically with a stupid grin on his face. It was painfully obvious what he wanted and Grosnock, nonetheless, provided it, afterall he had come to expect such blatant greed from this class of law enforcement.

"Well i'm sure 10 crowns can fix any mistakes you can find" he replied dropping the coins in the gaurds hand and snatching his visa back from his other before he had a chance to object. Putting the visa back into his pack he slung it over his shoulder and walked past the cowardly human who looked smugger than ever. The Orc was now inside the city walls and he had some fights to pick.
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Old March 19, 2005, 11:49 PM   #5 (permalink)
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Timestampe: The Seventh Brightening of the First Cycle of the Month of Aperitus. Summer of the Eleventh (XI) Year, Post Fractum. Early Darkening.

It was not always that lone figures approached the fortress known as Malice. Its usual visitors came in armed carriages, flanked by guards; or as a group of riders who come for riches and glory; or sometimes even by magic, be it teleportation or complex weaves crafted by Telath's talented wizards.

But this newcomer was different; at least when it came to entrances. He wore nothing more than a gray cloak over his black tunic. Dark-colored trousers coated his legs, folding over his leather boots. Bits of dirt and sand rose and fell from the earth as he walked the main road from the East. He walked thus far, and expected to rest in the city when he arrived safely...given that the orcs did not wish any trouble. The towers that greeted him brought a half-grin to the Necromancer's countenance; he was pleased to finally reach this "city" known for its mercenaries and gangbangers.

Upon reaching the main entrance, he answered all the guards' questions, and provided accurate information. If they wanted to expect his items, he allowed them to (not that he had much choice); and if they wanted to know how much money he had in his pockets, he gladly declared the sum.

"May I enter now?", Rae finally asked tiredly. "And could you perhaps show me to an...inn of some sort? At least somewhere I can rest for the darkening."
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Old April 18, 2005, 03:30 AM   #6 (permalink)
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timestamp: autum era XI

the two towers reminded johnny of something he could place right away. what he did know was that this was the place where he could get real though real fast, what a dump. some training was not gonna be enough. what he needed was some action.

he marched with broad steps at one of the guards holding his visa in one and and some crowns in the other. he knew these kind of buggers cared only about cash. "good day there" johnny said in a loud sober tone. "here is my visa, its all in order". the iron clad man took the visa and scanned it briefly and then looked up at johnny, but before he could utter a single word johnny opened his left hand and showed him the money.

"all in order sir, go on in" the guard said after snatching the coins from johnny's outstreched hand.

as johnny stepped past the guard and strode into the city he felt robo moving around in his coat, he thought it would be better to keep him hidden until he was in the city, and keep him close while he was in. no eric-jan for some time, no poffertjes and no silly children songs. he came here to become a rough, tough, carnage machine. he was sick of being pushed around
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Old April 25, 2005, 10:47 PM   #7 (permalink)
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He approached the gates with Carly, awaiting the approval of the guards to pass, giving his background information hastily, before he felt they would discover anything were suspiscious.

OOC: Continued from here

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Old April 25, 2005, 11:18 PM   #8 (permalink)
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Carly had scoffed at Johan's remarks lightheartedly, she wasn't one for talking to guards either way and if he wanted to answer questions that was fine. But she wasn't so young as to be an idiot. From her packpack which she insisted she take from the Vysstichi she procured a black robe with a hood easily three sizes to large, doning this and drawing the hood far, far about her face her childlike features and thelyri heritage were clearly hidden from the world. Her eyes became obscured from the world and for all effect she was some sort of short creature completely hidden from the world.

There was no doubt in her mind Carly would be admitted through the gates, for places like these did not stop those who wished to enter. Only those that wished to leave. She briefly wished she had had the time to cast a few sigils for her protection in this place of darkness, the rains had passed and the guards would be less hasty now.

Carly had a visa, but it was safely tucked away and would not be needed. She let Johan do all the talking until one of the guards addressed her directly
"And what would you be shorty?."
Turning the visage of her hood towards him in a way no seeing mortal could she raised a hand to quiet Johan from fielding the question, and in a voice that sounded not like her own she replied. The sound wavvered and clicked in places, her syllables clipped themselves off where they shouldn't have normally. In actual fact Carly was speaking partly in the way she would underwater but using Charismean as the language, it was a strange effect but she did it to hide her true race as best she could.
"I am a weaver of fate. That is all you need know human. Your masters may have interest in me, I come to offer my powers."
She hissed the last syllables of her reply through a smile upon her face, Carly enjoyed playing make believe. Although the answer to the guard was quite sincere, there were many mages in Malice and she did not believe there were many Ikomancer, if at all. Powerful people had uses for people like Carly, plotting became so much less of a headache.

From the depths of one seemingly hollow sleeve there appeared 10 shiny crowns that were gently thrown to the guard to catch.
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Old May 27, 2005, 06:57 PM   #9 (permalink)
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-TIMESTAMP-
Srennia, twenty-second brightening in the month of Imperos
Summer
Era XI in the Age of the Darkening

Daemn had never seen or heard of the tower of Malice before the recent Herald article. Standing before its imposing gates, eyeing the guards decked out in their barbaric finery, a slow smile began to creep accross his face. From the looks of things, this place was another one that it seemed would suit him to a tee - nefarious and rank. The only other such place he had found was the city of Orckon, but that held one major drawback: it was an orckish city, and Daemn K'rryl most certainly was not an orc.

However the guards here were smoothskins, not the greenskins. A chuckle erupted from his throat as Daemn walked forward with nonchalant grace

"Yo, serááá hombres... I hear about fightin' tournament, huh? Come show true skill of katta," he hissed playfully, standing with paws akimbo. One of the guards, a particularly large human wielding a halberd and about ten tons of plate armour looked down at the short lithe jagara, a sneer spreading across his face. The man spat at Daemn's feet and jeered, "Yah, likkle fing like you get crushed. It should be good watchin' eh Jarbak?"

His companion sniggered and poked Daemn in the shoulder. "Hah, yeeeah, good watchin'. I'll make sure I'm there to see this "true skill of the katta" get shown the floor quickly. Katta, hah... you weak bastards. Go on, get in, and don't die without us there, OK?"

Daemn smiled brightly, coming to attention and blatantly overacting. "Why cert'n'ly, what ever you say you fat-assed moron. Do the world a favour and stab yourself already," he laughed, dropping into Katta. As he waltzed through jauntily Jarbak grabbed his shoulder and whirled the jagara around. "Ey, what's that you say?"

Delicately removing the guard's hand, the katta merely grinned and walked away into the city. "Wouldn't you like to know..."
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Old June 5, 2005, 05:49 PM   #10 (permalink)
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Timestamp: The Month of Imperos in the Season of Summer, of Era II of the Celestine Mandate (Current Pattern) Era XI Post Fractum in the Age of the Darkening, the Mageocracy of Julos the Mad.

Returning to Malice once more was a step Dongar had always believed he would take, although perhaps not so soon. He seemed to jostle to and fro between the more unseemly cities of the empire, amassing as much money, skill and support as he could. He was useless without such things. However, it was upon returning from the troll hunt that he first considered returning to the great (in his eyes anyway) city. It was a place where a dirty low life such as he could make something of himself. With a big axe in hand and plate mail on his torso nobody was really all too likely to start trying to mess with a seven foot tall orc, and so it was a place where he could feel at home. Unlike many other cities where he would be looked down upon as jorel scum, here he could at least be respected. It was one of the places where he had spent much of his life, he was proud to be here once more.

Approaching the gaurds he was forced to laugh to himself a little. The gaurds were infamous, to him at least. They, like most gate gaurds, were as corrupt as anything, and never ceased to give him trouble. It was of no consequence to Dongar though, he would show the papers, how ever little they cared about them. Not one really for chatting amongst the minor races, he merely stared at the gaurds as they checked the visa, looked at the orc, then checked the visa again as if they had found something suspicious.

"What are you looking at orc?" The gaurd asked him in a malicious tone, suiting the namesake of the town. Now was not the time to stir up trouble, and he was forced to reply with a submissive "Nothing". The gaurd smirked, and allowed him to walk off. Gaurds really did get on the orc's nerves, pretty much all authority figures did.
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Old June 7, 2005, 01:12 AM   #11 (permalink)
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Timestamp ~ Midday of the 34th Brightening of Ioannes in the season of Summer, Era II of the Celestine Mandate
Era XI Post Fractum in the Age of the Darkening, the Mageocracy of Julos the Mad.
Paradigm: Schism in the Church of Faith

An exhausted kemite stumbled on the road that led between Zerdargia and Malice. He had come across it on accident, and decided to follow it to wherever it would take him. He quickly came to the point where it met the road that stretched between Malice and Arconis, although he did not know where that road would take him either. He was, in other words, a very lost human. So, when his gaze rested upon the two towers he was torn. He did not want to enter this city, as he found himself frightened by the atmosphere surrounding it. He was also hopelessly lost. Still, he turned himself away from Malice, not wanting to be tempted to enter.

He took a few steps down the road that would lead him to Arconis (which, ironically, was his intended destination) before he reached into his pack for some food. He was shocked to discover that he had actually gone through all of his food. Feth! This journey is turning out to have been a big mistake. I don’t really have much choice now. I have to restock my food. He slowly turned back around to the city he had originally intended to leave behind. Why am I afraid of this place? I don’t even know where I am or which city this is.

Having built up his confidence he approached the city again, this time getting his visa ready. There were several guards about, and all of them seemed to be either human or elven. Well, that is always good. None of those disgusting orcs or dracons guarding the city. Hopefully there won’t be any inside the walls either. Mamoru was in for a rude awakening once he entered this city. He picked out one of the smallest guards, who was still much larger than Mamoru, and handed him his visa. ”Serale, I am Mamoru Ito. I was hoping to stock up on food within your… fine city.” He waited for a few moments as the guard, an elf, seemed to size him up. ”Is there something wrong with my visa?” That would be the last thing he wanted to deal with at this time. He just wanted to get in, get some food, and get back out. However, the guard’s response surprised him. ”Not enough gold on yer visa. Fix it or leave.” Mamoru took his visa back with a look of confusion. He had not had much experience with traveling, but he couldn’t remember anything about gold on the visa.

Hoping to clear this up as soon as possible he came up with a proposition for the guard. ”Look, I’m not really sure what the problem is, but I’m certain that if you take me to the local aed…” The guard’s hand brushed against a pouch that appeared to contain a few golden crowns. All of a sudden the problem the guard mentioned mad sense. Not being above bribery, especially since he needed food, Mamoru grabbed ten of his own crowns and handed them to the guard. ”Here, does my visa have enough gold now?” The guard offered a stiff nod as he tucked his payment away.

”Now that that problem has been cleared up I have a couple of questions. First of all, where am I? Secondly, how do I get to Arconis from here?” He pointedly ignored the look the guard gave, which seemed to ask why the kemite needed the answer to such stupid questions. Still, he was pleased with the bounty he had received, so he answered anyway. ”Boy, yer in Malice. And if ye want to get to Arconis, just take the road that leads east out of here. Now move along.” Trudging into the city he now had the identity of, Mamoru sighed. This was not a city he wanted to go to. Oh well. I already paid the ‘entrance fee,’ so I’m not turning back now.
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Old June 7, 2005, 05:00 AM   #12 (permalink)
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The Season of Summer, Era II of the Celestine Mandate,
Solaria the Fifth, in the Month of Ioannes,
Early Afternoon.


Kallum walked calmly down the road, his long strides carrying him speedily down the channel, past the watchful eyes of the soldiers who manned the city's fortifications. They had all seen giants before, no doubt, but that was no reason to turn their backs to one.
The guards drew closer together the closer he came, a stupid move, it would make them an easier target if he intended to attack, it was obvious that these soldiers recieved very little training, and from the appearance of their garb it was just as obvious that they got very little pay as well. On one hand it was a bad thing, badly paid men are badly behaved men. But on the other, it would be easy to twist that fault to his advantage, badly paid guards like to be tipped.
As Kallum came to a stop and swung the massive make-shift club he had ripped from a tree onto his shoulder, a small and slightly unnerved guard stepped forward to confront him. He removed his helmet in order to tilt his head back, and said in a loud, slow voice "Serale Giant, I need to know your name, and the reason you're visiting Malice, before I can let you enter."
It was pathetic really, Kallum could easily take out this guard and a dozen more, with hardly a wink of the eye. Granted the soldiers all around would quickly close in and neutralize him, but this one little guard had no hope of stopping Kallum if he didn't want to, and the guard knew it. Kallum chuckled and responded [B]"Serale little Human, I am Kallum, son of Karna and Klum, grandchild of Kram Rockfist. Elder of the Skölmir Clan. My purpose here is to find a little Human who has some more of these pretty yellow coins..." he held up a large hand containing fifteen crowns, a suitable amount for the situation, and continued "and ask him if he'll give me some more in exchange for me bashing a few heads for him." he patted the man on his cloaked shoulder, making his knees bow with the force, and deposited the gold in the loose hood of his cloak "I do so love to bash heads."
The man gaped in surprise, as most small-folk did after hearing Kallum speak, since his speech was often far more eloquently put than their own. It was plain this man had expected him to simply grunt and bang his crude club on the ground. But he rallied quite well, and managed to mutter something about how the gates were open before he was forced to jump to the side to let Kallum passed.

As he entered the fortress-city of malice he heard the nasty laughter of the guards behind him, ridiculing their colleauge for being out-spoken by a giant. Kallum rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath "Cretins." before striding into the eternal darkness of the caverns of Malice.
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Old June 11, 2005, 08:21 AM   #13 (permalink)
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Time Stamp:
Late days of Summer, of the Eleventh(II) Era after the Aetherfracture.
During The Mageocracy of Julos the Mad. Schism in the church of Faith.

Damned land! It must had been damned by the gods, and there was no other explication of such a desolation; it was as if the whole Aeternia was pooringdirectly into that death pool, giving the place that nil vision. Godah had walked for a while through the wildrness of Enamoria; it was amazing how different the outskirts of Malicia were from the other parts of the southern province. The road from Zerdargia wasn't that sure, especially since the last undeed attack on It; nothing was left but a desert of ruins and sorrow, and it seemed it was spreading all over the Empire, Arakmat was still trying to birth again from the Hurricane.

Trees..It seemed so strange to the grey furred dorin to see trees where he supposed to meet only cranes and skeletons..trees! He could easily hear and sense the presence of orcs, they smell at miles and he was just trying to supress the urging need to hunt after those orcs..but he was not a stupid person and he was not such a fool to venture in the lands of malice after orcs..no he was not so stupid. He made his way through the only road leading to the fortress, taking care of anything around him, he had no trust in the dormant woods and knew many vermin lived hidden there.

Guards..were they guards..where were their uniforms?! who was the sergeant there?..what about the captain?! the Pasha of Arakmat was just unable to understand how a city was standing without any formal administration neither a real militia! in place of guards there were mercenaries, fully armed and they looked more bandits than working for the security of their city.

The seven feet standing dorin was wearing a red and golden tunique reminding the official garb of the Sultanate army, he had no trousers, no boots..he didn't need after all. but he had leather pieces, camel leather, rounded on several parts of his legs and arms, on which were placed stell claws able to rip the skin of anyone wanted to taste them. He was protected by an all body steel chainmail armour crafted by the Imperian forge; from above his right shoulder could be seen the hilt of his great sword, linked to the armour by a dedicated system provided by the same forger. As wind blew, his dark cape could fly after him and show the long sword inhis back and a Singel sword at his side; He also had two Gra'Lak daggers, he hoped he wouldn't have to use them-which would mean a fight against another dorin.

Why the Pasha of Arakmat, chief of its militia came to Malicia? to join the tournament; was he interested in becoming the new commander of the Malician anarchy? No, no atall but he was there to show what an Arakmatan was able of and to let everybody know that the new Acting Grand Vizier of Arakmat wasn't a clerk who sat behind a large desk..
he was Godah Yaoh Olohan Akhenaslan El Hattar Pasha of Arakmat.

After the little mascarade at the entrance of the city, the dorin walked through the city and to a tavern. There he would seek to join the tournament and let the people of Malicia admire dorin power.
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He was the part that the whole needed. But that was him, before. Not any more.
There was no whole anymore and he was just a lost part.

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Old September 3, 2005, 07:48 PM   #14 (permalink)
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7th brightening of the 1st Cycle of Kalendryas, Fall, Era XI PF

Drogean sniffed. The scent in the air was as foul as the land around. His white stallion Shaun'Dach seemed unable to adjust to this land, he was fidgety and even bucked slightly. It was then that Drogean decided he would be much safer on the ground. He walked the last mile to the city gates.

At the gate he offered his visa, but the guards seemed uninterested. They eyed his coin purse. He sighed. A stay of any length in this city would likely deplete his reserves of small change. The few bank cheques on him would be of no use - they were in denominations far too large for anything but a professional assassination, and they had to be signed over. He very much doubted that any of these men had pens.

30 crowns lighter, he entered the city leading Shaun'Dach and keeping him close....
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Old September 4, 2005, 01:21 AM   #15 (permalink)
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Machuca D'ork, returning from the Troll hunt, grew closer to Malice. He could now see the towers framing the cities entrance. Only dressed in a loin cloth, he puffed up his chest and tightened his muscles. He wanted no trouble with the guards, but would do what ever it took to enter the city. He marched forward in the lumbering gate of his kind, showing no concern for anything around him.

One of the guards aproached him, his armourd helm barely reaching Machuca's massive shoulders.
"Papers," he demanded, with his hand out.

Machuca dug his visa out from inside the front of his loin cloth and handed it to the guard.
The guard refused to touch it, seeing where it had come from and just gave it a quick glance. Machuca saw the guard look at his waist, obviously looking for Machuca's purse.
"What be yer businees in Malice," The guard asked?

" I come to watch the tournaments and to drink my fill of yer famaous grog," Machuca offered.

"And how do you plan on doing this when you carry no purse about you?"

"Ahh, Malice is famous for more than its grog, my friend. I have heard that cut purses do abound here."

"That be true, friend Orc, but we can't let vagrants enter our city."

"I have crowns a plenty, just no purse to be cut." Machuca started to dig into the front of his loin cloth again. "Sir guard, I would gladely offer compensation for directions with in the city."

The guard held his hand up. "That will not be needed, Orc, just be on yer way and stay out of trouble."

Machuca smiled, if you can call an Orcish smile a smile at all, and walked past the guard, entering the city. His ploy had work again saving him many crowns.
The place had the scent of Orc about it. He felt as if he had found a knew home. Now to find a place to train and buy a more suitable weapon, he told himself.
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