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Post by BSmith on Fri Jun 12, 2009 2:40 am

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Prologue: The Mission-Man

A naked woman with a myriad of bruises glared at a man as he redressed himself in his midnight blue outfit. Her hands were bound by barbed wire to one of the wooden bed posts. Once-beautiful locks of orange hair now lay disgracefully upon the white sheets, dotted with specks of scarlet.

“You’re not a man!” she screamed through tears. “You’re a sin! Just a dirty sin!”

“Give it nine months, you’ll think different.” With those words, the man turned towards the door. Long, shaggy, black hair rested on his shoulders as he pulled the hood of his navy cloak over his head. His cold gray eyes examined her from underneath his unkempt bangs.

“Goodbye, dear.” But when his hand pulled the door open, he instantly saw a figure standing before him.

“Shit... you’re that man from Geist!” the man hissed.

“And you’re that bastard who’s going to hell.”

From her place on the bed, the woman became slightly speckled with the blood that spewed from the man’s neck.

A sudden thud echoed through the floor boards as the body fell, and the woman’s tear-filled eyes now rested on the new figure. A long black coat, which was tight at the waist, covered his body. It had a hood, though he did not have it up. White cloth peeked out at the end of his sleeves. His hair seemed to be black in color, but the bit of sunlight that filtered into the room revealed its blue highlights. A large, black tome was clutched under his left arm.

“People will be here soon to help you. You’ll be alright.” No further words left his mouth, and he turned down the hall.

Outside, the woman’s savior walked through the village, catching few glances. Old homes, accompanied by older homes, made up the village of Soard. Weather always seemed to be the same: cool and damp. Leaves rarely grew back on the old trees which surrounded Soard, giving the entire city a deadened appearance.

‘The next one shouldn’t be far away,’ he thought, ‘Better be quick.’

He walked quickly through the mist, his cloak trailing out in his wake. His next target wasn’t far away at all. In fact, he knew exactly where to find him, as the target was a former mission-man who had worked for him, named Seath. Seath sought to assassinate Lutious, the leader of the guild known as ‘Geist’. Unfortunately for Seath, his plan had been leaked, and was now about to come to an abrupt end.

He now stood just a bit south of Soard. Where the terrain became rocky for a mile, he saw the small shack that he knew housed the traitor: a small, rotted wood shack that could itself be destroyed within seconds.


Inside the Geist base, high in the trees of Canopie, an older man with grey hair sat behind his sturdy celtic desk. He was dressed in a black coat with a black shirt, a priest’s collar looped around his neck. He looked over the letters that comprised the day’s mail, noting that all four were fan letters.

‘These people don’t understand what we’re actually doing for them,’ he thought, his eyes scanning another letter. ‘If they knew, I wonder what would change.’ His train of thought broke at the sound of someone knocking on the room’s heavy oak door.

“Come on in,” The man’s deep voice echoed. Light from outside invaded the red glow of the room, until the new entry shut the door behind him. The man who entered had dull red hair, wavy yet cut short, and was bespectacled. He wore a nondescript black cloak.

“Lutious, sir. I had something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it, Salem?”

“It’s about Opal...” Salem paused. “I was curious...” He fidgeted slightly.

“Is it redundant for me to ask ‘what is it, Salem?’”

“Right sir, sorry sir. Anyway, I was curious to how such a young man was able to attain the control he has...”

Lutious glared carefully at Salem. “You’re one of his assistants, hasn’t that put you in the position to know?”

“No offense, sir, but... you know he keeps to himself. Acts like he doesn’t even need assistants.”

Lutious lit a pipe which was seated amongst the scattered papers. Taking a long drag, he said, “Truth be told, he probably doesn’t. Come, sit down.” Within seconds, Salem was seated at the front side of Lutious’s desk, peering through the thick smoke at the grey-haired figure before him.

“I’m going to be quite blunt.” Lutious’s stare became shaky. “If he wanted, Opal could kill anyone in this guild... including me.”

“Are... you aren’t serious, are you?” Salem asked, ignoring the hundreds of questions he now wanted to ask.

“It’s that damn book he has... I don’t get it... he’s so young...”


Opal’s eyes fixed onto Seath, who now sat in front of him. The shack’s door swung free in the aftermath of Opal’s rash entrance.

“Opal! How the hell did you find me?” Like Opal, Seath wore a simple black cloak, pulled tight at the waist. Short yellow hair sat atop his handsome face. On the table next to him was a lone katana.

“Seath... why did you leave?”

“I’m not going to answer to some fucking nineteen year old wizard! You should have just left me alone!” Seath stood up and reached for his katana in one fluid motion. Three seconds later, blood poured down Seath’s severed arm as it made its way to the floor.

“AAAAARGHHHH!!! Fuck you!!!” Seath fell to his knees. He grabbed at his shoulder as he looked up at Opal, who simply stood in the doorway, his tome still clutched in his hands.

“It said to make your death painful,” Opal said, “But... it’s just that you’ve done so much for us.”

“You... Go to hell.”

With his eyes closed, Opal began chanting.


“He knows all of the spells in the book?” Salem asked.

“Yes. Every damn one. And I can’t even read any of the words. How he managed to learn them is beyond me.”

“I understand how that makes him powerful, but couldn’t he just be killed by a sword? Or a gun?”

“Maybe. We don’t know. We can’t understand what he knows, so anyone who goes up against him is completely naïve. No counter spells can be conducted. No equal spells. Nothing.”

Salem paused for a second. “Glad he’s on our side then.”

Lutious grinned. “Yes, we are. Which reminds me: don’t plan on betraying him. Seath did not long ago, and I can only imagine what fate has in store for him.”


Opal stood at the head of Seath’s makeshift grave, a solemn frown adorning his face.

~<3~ ADORE ~<3~ Adoreremadesig
Amano: When did you do that?
Smithy: note the first post is March 31?
Amano: See, this is why I'm not a detective.

Posts : 300
Join date : 2009-05-21
Age : 28
Location : New England

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