Justin Silverblade

Swing, slice, stab, dodge. Swing, stab, slice, dodge. Stab, dodge... The soldiers made the fight interesting, but the motions were too well known to Ghorn and Jadus to catch them off guard. They made their way up throught the Confederate army easily, using the Dread Lord's path as an easy trail to follow. Dodge, swing, slice, stab. Swing, dodge, stab, *BOOM* Jadus finished his target and turned to where the sound came from. One of the two siege weapons had been destroyed. As a result, several of the Reckmor troops had begun to hesitate, and several others, began to flee. The Confederates awed at the destructive power, and also began to hesitate. While battle still raged on, it was not as sturn and sturdy as it started. "Ghorn!" Jadus yelled. "Your forces hesitate at the sight of firepower. We must continue, to ensure their loyalties to this battleground. We fight, and die, until Marionus tells us otherwise." The warrior from the North took a moment to examine the battlefield. The Dread Lord had already picked his target, Jadus confirmed a few other generals in the ranks just within the last lines. Jadus pointed his sword towards one of them. "Slay him. I will find my target on the other side." Ghorn was about to put his two cents in, when Jadus headed off into the thick of battle once again, seeking his own target. Someone worth his skill, and worth his blood and sweat. He spotted his target some length away, still to the end, shouting orders to his remaining troops. You... will... be... MINE!

"And so there we were, the three of us verses the great dragon Uglyn," continued Justin. He was at the bar chatting with a couple of other Pen members when Gwaihir started in with his parchment. "And the new Pages are as follows," Justin gave the new elder a quick glance and went back to his story. "Of course, my two commrades ran immeadiately, leaving me with the fate of battling the dragon..." "Belizean, Bhurin, Damienn Ravencroft..." "...Well, what could I do? I threw the gauntlets down and went at'er. And I'll tell you, Uglyn was no ordinary dragon. His scales were tougher then steel, and his breath was more rancid then, well, you-know-who..." "Excedrin, Justin Silverblade, Nyyark..." "So I swung my sword for five days and four nights, and fought the fearsome thing. He-" "Uh, Silverbade," intrupted one of his listeners. "I think you-" Justin shook his head. "Not now, this is the good part. In the end I found myself gripped by his awesome talon/claw thingy..." "Rahsash Geldich, Tralla, and Turi." "With lightning force I threw my sword as I approched his mouth and-" Justin's head perked up. "Tralla? Turi? Hey I know them... What's Gwaihir listing names off for?" he asked. "Like I was trying to say, Silverblade, they're listing promotions," answered his listener. Seth found his way over to Justin and congratulated him, offering his hand to shake. "Wha-?" Justin asked, gripping the hand firmly for a moment. "Congratulations my friend, on your promotion." Seth repeated. Justin gaped in awe for a moment. "You mean... I was..." And then his yell shrilled through the air as he did a Flinstone-style yabba-dabba-do jump: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! "Drinks all 'round! Compliments of this guy, right here!" shouted Justin pointing to a random listener in his group. He found his way over to an old record player, put on a Jazz classic - In the Mood, and proceeded to dance with any ladies nearby. [OOC - Thanks guys. I'm looking forward to being around for a while.]

[OOC - Sorry I haven't posted for quite some time ladies and gents, but RL caught me offgaurd, and then it took me forever to catch up. ] So this is what death feels like... ... Dark... ... Cold... Colder then I had expected. Betrayed... by my own kind. I pledged my life to the darkness, and the Lord of Nightmares himself. And I was betrayed. Shadows? Shadows had been bought by the enemy to slay those who would cover the world for them. "Wake up..." To the eye I have let thee down. To the hand I have let thee down. To the heart I have let thee down. And to the opposition You have let me down. "Hey. Get up." ... Pain! "Open your damned eyes Jadus!" Ghorn gave the body a kick. "What the hell do'ya think you're doing? 'Cause you're a 'warrior' of the Hand, you can just take a nap? I don't think so!" Another swift kick was given to the warrior whilst Ghorn fended off the pikemen. Jadus opened his eyes. The fighting form of Ghorn could be seen, his blade crimson, and his face covered with a wide grin. "Good, now grab your blade and help kill some scum, if you're not too 'high and mighty' to fight along side your rescuer." Jadus groaned at the thought, but quickly picked up his feat from under him, and drew his blade. He was caked in mud, blood, and a constant cold rain met his face. A pikeman fell to his blade, and two to Ghorn's. His skill was still with him, though his vitality had suffered greatly. Many began to retreat to the greater forces of the inner lines when the Dread Lord began to re-enter the army. "He just showed those false shadow's who's boss. Heh." Ghorn laughed. "Looks like he's more then just show." I'll bet you wouldn't say that to his face. Another two pikemen fell to the blades of the warrior. Ghorn looked over to Jadus. "I told you entering so early was a dumb idea. If I hadn't got here in time to protect you, you'd have been mince-meat." The bloodlust grin faded for just a moment, to allow Ghorn to wallow in the new pleasure. "You can thank me later." And they began to work there way through the lines, aided by the wake of their Dread Lord. Another two pikemen fell, and another...

"...you said you weren't that good at poetry!"

Now ya see Seth! And you said you weren't that good at poetry! Bah! A reaction like that would have me floating for weeks. I'm sure your other lady friends will love it too. It's a great poem too; I think you lied to me about the above-mentioned.

Seth Exodus Viewer (1/23/02 5:46:18 pm) Reply An Artistic Application... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The doors of the office swing open wide, and a black silouet darkens the door way. A moments pause then in steps a conservativly, yet formally dressed man; his long black cape billowing out as he walks forward. In his left hand he carries a hard, black briefcase; and in his right, a black shafted cane with a glistening silver handle. He doesn't limp; it's only a show piece. He approaches the great desk, and gives a respectful, low, sweeping bow. " M'Lord Wyvern, I am Seth Exodus. A humble artist and aspiring writer. I should very much like to add my name to The Pen." He places the briefcase on the end of the desk, and opens it. From it he takes a sheet of papyrus. " For my application peice, however, I should like to brake the bonds of tradition." Here he slides the sheet of papyrus across the table, in front of Lord Wyvern. "I present for you, my art work." he announces proudly. "If the pen is mightier than the sword, then, too, is the pen-cil!" On the sheet, if one were to look, they would see a cartoon. The character is a comical one, but the name on top is a familiare one. "A characture of my dear friend, and your very own Foe Calibur." To view the picture simply click on this link: crystaltides.homestead.co...oecart.jpg If you should like more for an application, or this link doesn't work, simply tell me, I will rectify the problem post haste; and I should like to do more while I'm here. Yours truly, Seth Exodus ------------------------------------------------------------------------- NEW POST Archive Note The original post was made by someone who was not registered. As a result the parser messed up when converting. Their post appears above, followed by the next available post here: Justin Silverblade Initiate Posts: 41 (1/23/02 8:12:54 pm) Reply Re: An Artistic Application... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Passing by the Recruiter's Office was an armored adventurer. Walking past he heard the name, Seth Exodus, introduced. "That sounds familar..." And so, Silverblade entered the office a bold warrior. Taking great care and pride with every step, he nodded to Wyvren before turning to the new face. "Seth Exodus? The name sounds familar, but I can't quite place it. My name's Justin. Justin 'Silverblade' Thomas. Pleased to meet-" At a glance around the room, Silverblade's eye caught the picture, and stuck to it like glue. Slowly, his 'bold' chest deflated as his air transferred to a bellowous laughter. He gave Seth a hardy slap on the back shortly before almost keelling over with laughter. "Thats..." - laughter - "great..." - laughter - "work..." He turned to the door and shouted into the tavern. "FOE! You gotta see this!" Silverblade looked at the picture again and actively had to resist the urge to tug at Seth's shoulders like a kid and ask 'oh! oh! draw me!' [OOC - Good to see you here Seth. I hope these guys let you in real soon. Feel free to browse around the other works, comment, and post your own stuff. It's great fun. Oh! Do you have an ezboard account? It says you're a 'veiwer'. Anyways, good to see you online again. - Tek]

Diving to the seas of onslaught went Jadus. Past the tranquil blades of the surface and into the struggle for breath against the blades of the many. Back! Jadus swung his blade strongly, catching an arm of one of the three pikemen advancing on him. Back or meet your end! He needn't speak, his eyes and his gripped teeth spoke his words. Making a swift dodging movement, and then another, an opening was made, enough to kick a pikeman back. The battle was swift, each movement in succession with the other. A pikeman fell to the swing of a sword technique, and then quite eventually a second to misguided eyes and a quick crossbow bolt. Slay Gorog, you'll find no prey here! The last pikeman approached and was subdued with a kick, losing his balance and falling unto the ground. It was a quick movement with Jadus' longsword that pulled the last breath from the Confederate soldier. But, three steps farther, another two pikemen, and a swordsman approached the Warrior. The swordsman would make attack with false footing, and fall prey to Jadus' quick arm; he was slit, and then grabbed. Using the swordsman as a shield, Jadus forced his way onward, another three steps. He swung at one while shielding against the other, and the alternating the opponents, did this again. Finally the shield was tossed, and a sudden light from above worked as a distraction for Jadus to thrust upon the other. One pikeman left, yet again, Jadus let him make the first move. It was a straight thrust, and Jadus countered it fatally. Light? But why? Whilst thoughts raced in his head, his fingers were swift; movement ahead was temporarily forfited for a reloaded crossbow. Our Gorogs are useless now.... "Yeeeeeeeah!" Your voice gives you away solider. Jadus finished the lesson he started in his head by thrusting his armored elbow backwards, into the oncoming soldier. Then he moved his fist upward, causing a spill of red upon his armour. "My nose! By the..." The voice faded into the background as Jadus noted the return of the dark sky. Another four soldiers, pikemen these, advanced on Jadus. He was in the thick of it now. Magic would be useful now, Zakuro.... The sarcasm rose in his mind. Using a spin technique, Jadus clashed against two pieces of armour, and breaking to pikes. In return he recieved two blows. Falling backwards in defence, he fought against the two oncomers with pikes. They stabbed and swung, Jadus deflecting succussful hits off his gauntlets. He moved in close when the time arrived and pushed them together and back, then following them with his blade. His movements were slightly slower then his head turn, and he noted the other two rushing him. As the crimson of the Confederate blood flew high, Jadus met the charge and overwhelmed both pikemen. Jadus did not even stop to finish them, and continued his trek slowly amidst the hordes of soldiers. One step ... Two steps ... "Urg..." Jadus stopped. He looked down to see his armor pierced. His stomach had been cut, and a large sword still against his side being removed. His only movements were a couple of stumbles. All seemed to stop. The battle noises beside him floated high above, the details of battle burried deep into the ground. Jadus knew only what had happened. Who...? What...? I heard nothing... saw nothing... An anger came to Jadus' mind when he realized, I felt nothing... Instincts were key to Jadus' battle skills, and they had warned him naught of an enemy. Jadus turned to meet his assailant. As his face turned he was struck in the chest by a mace. The blow was too hard for the injured warrior to take standing, and Jadus fell to the ground in hopes of gaining strength of position. He looked up and the figure he saw made his face grimise. It was a shadow. Rain started to fall as cries of battle were heard far to the distance. It sounded as if the tides of Rekmor had come in. It mattered not. There was only one thought on Jadus' mind. Betrayed...

He had slain one, and then another. After slaying a third pikeman, Jadus stepped back. He took a long moment to examine the battlefield. He had moved out and around to get to the unit of pikemen, and as a result had barely scratched the front lines of the Confederate Army. The Gorogs in front of him dropped like flies. The Confederate army was reloading their archers, and his soldier informed Jadus that the mages were begining to cast as well. To top it all off, the Hand had not yet called in its reinforcements. Jadus Zennakoth, mighty Warrior of the Northern front, in service of the Hand of Recititude let out a great, aggravated yell. "AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!" Useless! All these Gorogs could not fight well if they had been given blind and deaf oppenents, let alone Confederates! Why must I... His thought was broken by two things. A pikeman advanced upon him, slaying a Gorog to proceed. Jadus lifted his hand crossbow and slew the man with a growl. He could not be disturbed. Second, was a unit flanking the engaged units from the far left. Shadow troops? Excellent. At least something is going well. I did not know the Hand army had brought a... is that a death knight? Impressive. Jadus quickly reloaded his crossbow and watched as the shadows engaged against the enemies. Jadus could not help but laugh as he saw the shadows act on his thoughts, slaying the Gorogs. "SIR!" The yell broke his thoughts. As he turned to see the origin of the voice he was struck throughout his body with a pain. He dropped to one knee, plunging his sword deep into the ground for balance. A grunt came from the warrior. Lightning.... My soldier, to warn about... Magic... Jadus looked up. In the back rows, alongside the mages were infantry, and archers. They were well protected... Train of thought yet again broken by the noise of war. "Fire!" The voice was evident from the back rows. Following the voice, a sea of arrows rained upon the back rows of the Gorogs. Jadus himself had to move back to avoid them. A general, or commander of some sort was still quite effective and organized. The Hand would not move in their forces until orginization had ceased. That was it. Jadus had decided. "Soldiers!" he yelled to the two still alive, and conveniently killing enough to allow Jadus time for thought. "Hurry back to Ghorn and the army. Tell them that our armies welcome their advance here, and more importantly, that soon, their back lines will cease to function." With that, the former traces of joy, and the recent look of pain upon Jadus' face vanished. With one look to the shadowed warriors Jadus nodded. He saw the death knight attacking a lone pikeman, pinning him against the ground. There was little need for him here. May the Hand and Gods grant me, The strength I will now require, To send my enemies to the darkness, Through pain, suffering and fire. Jadus' black hair seemed to float for a moment with the speed that he left his stance. Wielding his (still flaming) sword he gestured towards the mages, and then to all of those who stood prominent at the back. I will rip through the front lines, and plunge unto the middle. I shall swim and fight my way to the back lines where I will wreak the havoc of all my force and breath. And so he began his trek.

Everything slowed for Jadus. Only moments now, precious moments As he and the three behind him plunged into the sea of men and demons alike, his brain sped up, aided by the experience of previous battles. Each precious moment was an package of information, easily picked apart. The hum of an arrow had gone by his left. The archers had reloaded, and there was chance that later, they may aim for him. In the distance, he heard the noise of a catapult being fired, to his far left. He had little to worry about there. He heard commanders and captians shouting orders, disorganization had not yet struck. Beyond it all, Jadus had found his first target. A swordsman had just slew a Gorog to just to the right of his line of sight. He smiled and made eye contact with the swordsman. Putting a gauntleted hand forth, he pointed to the swordsman, whilst not breaking stride. To the eye, Daring to look upon Dark's great gaze. I warn you now, Your lands will glow, set ablaze. Two motions simple and quick. The swordsman brought his weapon up high. Jadus thrust his free hand up to grip the swordsman's arm, and pushed him back slightly. Taking advantage of the of-balance soldier, Jadus took hold of his blade with both hands and impaled the soldier through the stomach, just under his armor. He withdrew quickly and began to turn, there was a presence behind him. "SIR! Don't!" The voice merged with the surroundings as Jadus swung. His eyes met the new target before his blade, and he saw the Hand's symbol on the breast-plate. He halted the force, inches from his soldier's chest. "What is it?" Jadus commanded, an annoyed look emerging on his face. As the soldier stuttered on about something the lady mage was doing, Jadus noted his surroundings again: A few arrows continued, as did the catapults. Something was missing. The shouted commands from the Confederate army were less. Something had disturbed them. A swordsman had begun his decent against the group of four. Jadus broke his attention from the soldier and turned to the new enemy who held his sword passionately. To the hand, Holding steel against our army’s force. I warn you now, Your fate will run its short course. Jadus swung his long-sword hard into his new enemy, and watched in joy as the swordsman's face dropped. His sword had gone flying, and Jadus took the opertunity to move his long-sword to the swordsman's neck, slicing through it like butter. As it went through, he ignited in flame. Jadus jumped back and looked at his blade. It's edge was ignited. What had he hit? "And she looked like she cast something on our guys!" emerged a voice from behind him again. Jadus stabbed his longsword deep into the ground, as a test. His temporary disarming had caught a young swordsman's eye. He ran towards Jadus quickly. Shrugging, Jadus lifted his left arm over his right, aimed for but a moment, and fired his hand crossbow. To the heart, That beats only to do the just, and right. I warn you now, The candle shall be snuffed, as will the light It met it's mark and the soldier fell to the ground with a scream, his hands dropping his sword and going to his face. Jadus removed his sword from deep in the ground, and noted that it's edge still burned. "Magic..." Immeadiately assuming that was the only reason that the flame still burned, Jadus turned to survey the scene. Catapults still in full bore, far off. Another line had been called in; Jadus could hear the shouts. A brief look around caused him to understand that it was a unit called in to his right. They were doing well. The hum of the arrows- "Sir! I think our lady mage's casting someth-" Arrows! Jadus' hand shot out to grip the voice and pulled him unwillingly in front of him. Seconds later three arrows pierced the soldier's body, aim true to Jadus' position. Jadus threw his soldier to the ground and made a mental note that he was down the information of the Hand's mages, and that Zakuro was casting something. He trusted that the other two were still there, and shuoted instructions. "To the right! Pikemen are succeeding!" Obeying his own orders, Jadus turned and continued his calm walk towards his next victim. As he approached he sheathed his sword and reloaded his crossbow. Noting this, was a pikeman nearing Jadus' position. Reacting quickly from his training, he went to impale the warrior. A step to the left and a quick (and sloppy) chop from Jadus' gauntleted hand broke the pike. Jadus withdrew his longsword and smiled as it still flamed. And to the opposition, Who would try to break this truth so real, I warn you now, Attempt it so, and you shall die for your ideal. He locked eye contact and sliced low. The pikeman dodged it, and went in for an attack. Jadus continued a follow-through tequnique, bringing his longsword up and slashing at the stomach of the pikeman. The magic enstilled on his sword by Zakuro caused the man to start to ignite. Jadus kicked him back, and noted three more pikemen advancing on him. He took a step back, and as he began to put on a defensive stance a fireball came wizzing down upon them. As the pikemen screamed, patting down their ignited bodies, Jadus sighed a thought. Good help, though the range of Zakuro's power was still too unknown to him to be of any reliability. He would have to count her powers as an added bonus. Always welcomed, not expected. His eye contact was met with another pikeman. You're next...

[OOC - Guys, sorry for jumping out of the story, but I'm not sure how much I can be around to post. So I've brought myself to a position that could or could not be useful for plot, and lets you continue without having to wait for me.] Justin chatted with the bartender for a little while longer, awaiting his new friends' awakening. When they did not show for the early morn, he went for a stroll. Outside, Justin travelled around the block, and down to the east side of town. He was more familiar with the surroundings there. It was just after nine, and the sun shone brightly. The doors to peasents housing could be heard opening, and early morning market patrons were already on their way out for the 'good deals'. Rounding the corner again, Justin found his way into the arms of two husky men. The first was a taller man, with long black hair and a straight face. The other was shorter and stubby. Both carried daggers in their hand, the first man holding his immeadiately to the neck of Justin. "Well, well, well, if it ain't Silverblade himself. Out for a bit of a stroll?" Justin didn't answer. "Not talkative huh? Well, I hopes ya loosen yer tounge up a bit before we get there. The boss don't like the silent type." Justin stiffled a few words. "Who... are you?" "We're not important Silverblade," the shorter one answered. "Just come with us."

I think I've heard you recite that before Bhurin. Good though, I like it (and the other poetry you've posted, I'm just too lazy to write replies to them all ).

Great idea, and writing Gyr. I like it a lot.

Justin Silverblade walked into the banquet room with a covered square under his shoulder. He set it down in the middle of the room and coughed slightly. The velvety purple material was removed from it, revealling a white, untouched, canvas. Slowly Justin's words floated into the room. The Painting of Life Standing on a great pedestal, Is a picture, beauty in rare form. All the emotions or life, Captured in one sparkling image. Humility, Friendship, Optimism, Patience, Confidence, Determination, Happiness, and Love. Arrogance, Despise, Pessimism, Unrest, Nervousness, Cowardice, Anger, and Hatred. This image, so crystal clean, Invokes the purest feelings, Drawn by a master painter, Its lines are infinite. In a room void of all Empty of other art, in respect, Of the one true monument The painting of Life Mortal eyes who look upon it, See naught but what they bring. The illustration is a reflection, Of the light we shine upon it. Edited by: Justin Silverblade at: 1/17/02 11:35:23 pm

Justin woke up unimpressed. He the minute his eyes opened in his tavern room at the Lock and Key, his hand went to his cheek. Feeling a bruise he groaned. That half-elf, human, whatever-he-was thingy had packed a punch for a rogue. Slowly he got dressed, and, eyeing his armor, groaned again. A lot of good that hunk of metal did, he thought, rolling his eyes. And to top it off, he had no gold! He was lucky Balladore lent him the gold for the night's stay. He made his way, wearily, downstairs. How was he going to pay for breakfast with absolutely nothing! To think, he was so happy with himself last night, saving his money for later. The bar was half-full when he came downstairs, with no-one from his group there. He took a seat at the bar. "What can I get ye?" "Nothing," Justin said. "I've got nothin' to pay with." The barkeep looked at him for a minute, and the bruise on his face. "Ohhh, you were involved in that little fiasco last night, weren't ya? Yeah, I was told about that. Apparently it wasn't the only one. You hear about the murder?" [OOC: Sorry it's short guys, I'm a little tired right now.] Edited by: Justin Silverblade at: 1/13/02 6:25:55 pm

His hands began to shake, when Marionus spoke. Calmly Jadus placed is left hand to meet his right, behind his back. His front displayed him a cold and hardened warrior listening to his champion and lord. From behind, one could see that the sense of awe Jadus felt with the Dread Lord's speech could not be entirely contained within. Yar'cule continued to fill them in on the details. When he had finished, Jadus shook his head. He had no questions. Two hours to kill. I have been waiting for weeks. What is two hours? Perhaps 'Ghorn's' troops could use an inspection. I would know what skill holds our battle here. Zakuro left the tent, signalling the end of the meeting. Seeing this, Jadus followed suit, intent on examining the Hand's army; lives he would undoubtably save by adding his skill to the battle. Edited by: Justin Silverblade at: 1/13/02 5:59:17 pm

"Jheric passed out!" someone shouted, alerting the group. The yell pulled Justin from his daze. His focus blurred from his sword, and focused on the tree across from him, where Balladore was wrapping Jheric up. Quickly he sheathed his sword, and lept up. "What's going on?" "Someone's got to carry him. I can't do it..." Balladore was saying. "I'm about to..." When he was finished, Justin put his arms on Balladore's shoulders, and looked him straight in the eye. "Stay focussed." Leaning down, Justin felt under the blanket at Jheric's clothing. Cold and soaked, right through to the bone. He had seen this before, and even lost friends to it. He had to start a fire, and get those wet robes off immeadiately. Justin turned back to Balladore and spoke as calmly as he could: "Balladore, I don't think we should carry him. You continue, and take the rest of the group. I'll stay here with Jheric." "No Justin," Balladore started, "If he stays, we all stay." Shaking his head, Justin smiled. "We'll catch up, I promise. You have children to get back, and revenge to obtain, rightfully yours. Besides, with Jheric's powers, I'm sure we'll be fine." Justin took off his armour and began gathering kindling, and stacking them together. Looking to meet the gaze of those who still remained, he gestured onward forcefully: "GO!"

Justin was quiet. His voice was now within him, he had no reason to speak. The joyful face and spirit that he had carried with him thus far into the journey had been left to die in the pond along with the creature that had sucked him down. He was uneasy, and uncomfortable. "Perhaps Bhurin would fly us across the now-poisonous lake? I really don't want to go swimming in that water now, if you don't mind" Damienn said, after trying to lighten up the mood. Justin pointed, motioning with his head, and emerging from silence breifly. "We can go around." Entering back into thought, Justin cared not for the cold clothing clinging to his body. He had no mind for his armour either, whose weight had so easily helped the creature is almost drowning the warrior. Nay the event itself seemed to drift from Justin's mind. His only thoughts were on the characters, the group, the actions. It was all so foriegn to him. A mage, a druid, an elf, a winged creature. They all acted so differently from him, so overwhelming. And now with such a horrible event, but such great intentions, it boggled his mind. Justin was used to being in groups with guys like Damienn. Normal fellows. Nothing but the weapons, the guys, and the monsters. It was on those adventures that he was Silverblade. Justin continued, following the group from behind. His smile would eventually return, when his thoughts no longer clouded his mind. Finally he removed his shortsword from its scabbard, and admired it absentmindedly whilst the group continued on.

"Frmph mhh?" aked Justin. Two members of the group looked towards Justin with a questioning look. He got up and stared an inquisitive glance at the new elf, being greeted by Bhurin readily. Swallowing his last mouthful of bread, Justin repeated his question. "Foe who?" "From the Pen, Justin. Foe Calibur, Page." The curious and confused look remained on the face of the would-be knight. Bhurin explained that Foe Calibur was a close friend of his, and of many other members of the Pen. "Ahh... Well, I'm pleased to meet ya, Foe." Justin extended his hand and examined the elf's stature. "Hey! You're one of those elves, aren't you!" Justin beamed and laughed heartily. "Can't get anything past ol' Silverblade." There was a groan from the more knowledgable of the group. "So, ah, Foe was it? You here to help Balladore to, huh? Well, if elven reflexes are anything like what I've heard in bards tale's, I'm sure you'll come in handy." "About that," someone started, "should we be heading out soon?"

When Ghorn spoke his first words, his very voice and gestures caused Jadus to harden his stance. As Ghorn continued his little speech, the laughter was ripped from Jadus' eyes, leaving but a mirror to return Ghorn's gaze. Slowly he replaced his longsword, and listened carefully to Ghorn. He found his thoughts continuing a petty conversation he had the intelligence to not say aloud. "...These men that have followed us to the field of battle are my own..." Those who follow us belong to the Hand, not you. "...No party of men or women will topple these confederate dogs!" Judge not my skill, nor that of my enemy, lest you have met either. "...the blade of Rekmor’s invincible army..." No army is invincible. Ours merely does not lose. "...And I shall lead them to victory…” You? I was not ordered here without a purpose. We... "-With your help of course." Of course... Jadus found his gloved fist had become clenched during his thoughts. Slowly he unwrung his fingers, holding his hand behind his back to hide the unsolid action. His eyes loosened though his body did not, and the new face. Jadus listened aptly to the new and next warrior to be named and speak. He gave a slight nod that could be barely percieved within the first sentence of Khimeira's voice. A wise one. Smug, but wise. Reminds me of- Once of the Antaean Confederacy? Even wiser still, to be on this side of the boarders. To have one from the other side, as I recall, may be a blessing or a curse. As Khimeria's voice ended and he left 'center stage', Jadus reflected breifly, and then spoke to the group aloud. He made an active point not to step into the center while doing so. Pulling his gaze to who he would address, Jadus spoke firmly and directly. There was no quiver in his voice. "Yar'cule the Infernal, High Sorceror of Rekmor, if those presented be the group we have as warriors of the hand, then we shall be successful." He looked briefly towards each of the others with a small head bow; head diverted just slightly, enough to make and then break (in respect) eye contact. "If you all hold yourself as well as you fight, we will have little resistance." He moved his his eyes back to Yar'cule. "Have we any more warriors to be presented, or can we continue?" Edited by: Justin Silverblade at: 1/12/02 10:36:53 am

With but three days of limerick time, I find myself without a dime, I musn't quit, Without a hit, Or at least one great rhyme. It's difficult to do, right on the spot, I'm no quick wit, nor poetry hot-shot If I can't I fear, I'm out on my rear If Bhurin's gold I have not! Unless my services, I volenteer, To wash the dishes clean & clear For my food it would pay, In the keep, a night's stay, And I could help myself to free beer!

So this is what the Hand has trained in the south. Impressive. A verse came to Jadus' mind when Zakuro began etching a design into her wrist. Elven features, human touch, Iron grip, devil's clutch. Human speech, elven sung, Power weilding, devil's tongue. She would be a great ally, to be sure. When Zakuro happened within speaking distance, Jadus was looking forth to the distance, or to he or she who would be the next warrior. He did not hesitate in speaking at her presence: "Your passion procceds you, Zakuro. I look forward to eliminating the Confederacy alongside your skills."

So it is finally time. Our trek has not been in vain. Perhaps I was wrong in the assumption of our enemies' will. It is good that they have not surrendered... He was the first to step forward. "I step forward and shall be named. I am Jadus Zennakoth, Warrior of the Hand, hailing from the Northern front." Clad in black and red plate mail, the warrior's blue eyes searched for those others who would be named. His face was emotionless. This was bussiness. He returned his cold gaze towards Yar'cule. "Death is a fact well understood by my blade. The attack will not fail whilst I have breath left to aid the Hand." Jadus took a step back and unsheathed his longsword. In one fluent motion he brought it's blade to the ground, holding the hilt with loose grip. The soul behind his eyes began to unharden, and dance quietly with a childish glee. I will enjoy this. It has been too many days... It is time to remind the sword by my side just what it is to taste warm blood.

When the bartender refused to come to the table, saying "Do I look like a servant to you? Ya pick up yer own orders." Justin went to the bar. He ordered a round of drinks, on "that man's gold, right there, beside the druid," and then procceeded to order food as well. He insisted that they pay later, as he wouldn't be stuck with the bill. Grudgingly, it was brought, and everyone at the table was provided with food. When Justin arrived back at the table from placing the order, Imoe was speaking. Justin listened carefully, adding in a question here or there. He wasn't afraid of being inquisitive. "Do you know what the soldiers looked like?" His eyes were deep in thought as he listened to the girl, and then the silence whilst they ate, thinking to himself. Hmm... well, I haven't seen any of those markings. Blue jackets, red crosses. Whoever they were certainly scared her but good. I've heard of kids creating imaginary friends due to stuff happening in their lives, but, imaginary enemies? If- no. When. When I get my hands on the guys that did this to her family... I'll... "They won't hurt you here Imoe. Neither will this Legion fellow. We'll protect you. Right guys?" Edited by: Justin Silverblade at: 1/8/02 8:05:58 pm

[OOC: Sorry it's short, but I wasn't quite sure how to handle things when we were all together.] "...so that's the basic 'jab and stab' technique," Justin finished his brief lesson to the girl, having found no ideal place to practice. "When we have the room, I'll show you how-" Justin looked up to a small scuffle to find his new druid friend 'handelling' another tavern member. His hand went instictively to his weapon. "Under the eyes of my God, and may my voice reach his ears, I swear that I have not stolen from anyone this day," proclaimed he. Letting go of his short sword Justin shrugged and turned to the girl. "Well, he sounds like an okay fellow." Balladore led the man to their table, and sat down. "I know I wouldn't lie to the gods." Justin took a carefull minute to examine the new company; more exactly the new company's build. "Who's this Balladore? More friends?" He looked to the new face. "My name's Justin; Justin Silverblade. This fine woman here," he said patting the smaller, younger lady beside him, "is Imoe. It looks like you've met Balladore already." Making haste towards his primary goal for the evening Justin, didn't wait for the man (OOC Gyr - Elf right?) to introduce himself, but continued on. "And now that you know everyone, you'd better know something else. We've... well actually, I, have a policy. The new guy buys the next round." Justin smiled widely at the idea of another free drink. In his final step of such an ambush Justin made sure to get the order underway: "Bartender!" Edited by: Justin Silverblade at: 1/7/02 11:23:58 pm

Dazed, and wounded, Justin took a moment to look around. The figure that had so easily let them down had disappeared... or at least, Justin didn't see him. By the time he saw straight, and had a moment to whine to himself about the bruises he'd surely have, he made a realization: His Money! Looking down he saw the same young lady (OOC - child?) as before and the Elder of Initiates, unconcious, his coins in their hands/claws. He gently (though due to his armour, far from silently) removed the coins and stood up again. "Aww... what the heck," he said and polished up one of the coins before placing it back in Rydia's hand. He then headed out to the bar. "If I'm not drunk, I sure should be..."