The small building was quiet, save the light breathing of the man in the middle of the room. The wood that made the building was rotted and falling down in some spots, gaping holes letting sunlight trickle down through the ceiling. Pews lined either side of the room, signifying that the old building was a church. There was a destroyed and rotting alter in the back of the building, where wanderers might sleep. The man was dressed in a huge, ripped cloak, an old and tattered shirt, and a pair of very loose pants that fell over his bare feet. The man wasn't any taller than six foot, and his slightly bulky figure gave him an intimidating appearance. The cloak had a hood that came over his head and blocked any view of his face, giving him a frightening air about him.
"You remember the orders?" A distant voice said from behind the door leading into the streets.
"Kill the two Ansyen, and get out," Another said.
"Don't forget. Burn him," A third voice reminded.
"Right," The second voice said again.
Loud footsteps were heard outside, approaching quickly. There were three men, and they each carried loud equipment that clanked as they walked. The man tensed up, closing his hands into fists as he heard them push on the door. It went silent for a couple of moments, and the door splintered in the middle before immediately bursting open.
Three men stood on the other side, each white with shaved heads and shades covering their eyes. They were dressed in well-ironed suits, but each toting a different weapon, that being the only distinction between them. Their heights and widths were almost identical, making it difficult for aany imposing attacker to tell who was already hit or drained. The one on the right carried a hand pistol, a shotgun strapped to his back. The one in the middle carried a sword, which was already poised to fight. The last had two claws strapped to his fists, clearly a master of martial arts.
The man in the middle, smiled, and leaped forward. The man with the sword jumped from his standing point and headed straight for the cloaked figure, ready to strike him down. The man swung his hand in front of him, and a bright blue flash signaled his weapon's appearance. A long dagger with a blue hilt and sharply tempered blade was clutched in his hand, locked against the opponents thin blade. The cloaked figure pushed off, sending the other man to the ground.
A gunshot rang out, and a bullet whizzed through the air. The bullet was blocked by the dagger, and it bounced off, landing on the ground to the right of the man in midair. He landed hard, skidding to a stop in front of the crumbling altar. Suddenly, the martial artist was in front of the man, having moved when the knife wielder had been trying to land. The claw scraped the very surface of the man's face, and he had barely managed to dodge the claw's intended spot of his neck. The man swung his dagger forward, and caught the man right in the side. He doubled over in pain, blood dripping onto the wooden floor. He head the sound of a blade scraping against the floor, and turned to see the same sword carrier running towards him.
In an instant, a ball of blue energy was rocketing towards the man, and struck him right in the stomach. The man was sent flying by the impact, and slammed into the back wall. The martial artist grabbed hold of the cloaked figure's arms, and held him still. The cloaked figure didn't move, and he heard the click of someone's finger on a trigger. The cloaked figure glowed eerily for a moment, and none of the men in suits knew what to do. A tear rolled down the glowing man's face, and he whispered quietly.
"Run," he said.
---
A column of blue light shot up from the old church, lighting up Kalseng's slightly tanned face. The wind toyed with his brown hair, sending it backwards. His torn white shirt was rippling gently, greatly contrasting the barely moving green jacket. A tear rolled down from his green eyes, and he wiped it off with his slender fingers. He quickly wiped them on his pants, and he fell to the ground, hugging his knees.
"Roland..." Kalseng muttered into his pants. The lone boy was sitting on top of a shed nearby, the steel roof still structurally sound. The man inside was practically his father, and he had planned to save Kalseng when they were coming. Kalseng had argued against it, telling him that he had to stay, but he was forced to leave. Kalseng took a moment to regain himself, and looked back at the remains of the church.
Rubble littered the ground, and there were no remains of the car that the three men had arrived in. The neighboring buildings weren't damaged by the explosion, but it wasn't as if they weren't going to collapse soon anyway. Kalseng heard he engine of a motorcycle, and saw a fourth man pull up in the bike. The man got down off the bike and removed his key. He casually walked over to the few remnants of building and kicked them around. All that was left were a few burnt rafters and part of the old alter.
The man pulled something out of his pocket and held it up to his face, looking around casually. He seemed to be talking but Kalseng couldn't hear him at all. The man looked around, and finally locked eyes with Kalseng. Both of their faces went pale, and Kalseng tried to stand up, a few shingles loosing themselves beneath his feet. He jumped off of the opposite side of the building, and looked around the corner of the building.
The man was making a dead sprint for Kalseng, a broadsword drawn at his side. Kalseng cursed under his breath, and did a barrel roll out from the shadows, pulling the energy up from the ground. He touched the dirt road, and pulled up the energy he could. The brief breeze that was going on before vanished nearly immediately, and wind started to kick up around Kalseng's arm. He concentrated, and the wind started to spin in a vertical column above his open right palm. It spun even tighter, and suddenly, a spear formed.
The entire bottom of it was a very light green, with a dark green cap on the bottom end. At the top, a simple blade stuck out about a hands with. Kalseng stood up promptly, and held the spear next to his body. In it's entire length, it came a little higher than a foot above his head. Kalseng smiled cockily, and laughed slightly.
"You sure about this?" Kalseng asked. The man didn't move at all, but a small bead of sweat rolled down his face. The fourteen year old pulled the spear down, and adjusted himself into a battling position. "Alright. Suit yourself." Kalseng gave a little shrug, and lunged forward. With a swift jab, he managed to cut the side of the man's arm before he got his spear thrown off. Kalseng quickly moved to the right, and swung left. His blade was stopped again, and the man got in close. He swung hard, but Kalseng jumped back in time to dodge.
Kalseng pulled in a bit more energy, and the air seemed to swirl around his palm. Kalseng smiled again and the wind picked up. Kalseng pushed his hand forward, and the wind shot out like a dart, slamming into the man's chest. He flew backwards, and looked at his chest. A moderately deep cut was where the wind hit, and it stung pretty bad. It was maybe an inch long, but it was painful. The man stood again, trying not to underestimate the kid's power. The sad truth was, however, that Kalseng was getting kind of tired. He probably couldn't beat this trained officer, but he could hold his own for a while.
A loud alarm went off behind him, and Kalseng whipped around. The city was built with huge walls surrounding it, with huge doors separating enemies from the inside. They were gliding together, closing up quickly. Large red lights at the top of the towers next to the doors were spinning and flashing, signifying that people needed to get in. They were typically kept open, but closed during wars or lock downs. Considering that there were no hoards of enemies charging the gates, it must be...
"Crap," Kalseng muttered. The doors were closing too fast, so he just turned back to the battle. He was now locked into a city with people trying to kill him. This was going to be one hell of a week. He felt something... Something reminiscent of what he felt in his magic... Something like Roland. "Another?" Kalseng murmured.
[[OOC: Longpost is loooooooooooong. So. This RP is invite only, but not only that, it's also got a couple of rules. While magic is abundant and plentiful, you can only use some basic magic, summon up a basic weapon, and have a little summon for use. However, I won't be opposed if you were to weight one with a lot of strength and make the others really weak points. That's fair, and a de-suifier. Also, when using magic, keep in mind that it comes from the planet itself, so when you use it, your surroundings relating to the element you use are going to weaken. For example; If you use fire, the fire around you has to die down for your powers to activate. If there isn't any fire, maybe it gets considerably colder. Find somethingto do. That's all.]]
"You remember the orders?" A distant voice said from behind the door leading into the streets.
"Kill the two Ansyen, and get out," Another said.
"Don't forget. Burn him," A third voice reminded.
"Right," The second voice said again.
Loud footsteps were heard outside, approaching quickly. There were three men, and they each carried loud equipment that clanked as they walked. The man tensed up, closing his hands into fists as he heard them push on the door. It went silent for a couple of moments, and the door splintered in the middle before immediately bursting open.
Three men stood on the other side, each white with shaved heads and shades covering their eyes. They were dressed in well-ironed suits, but each toting a different weapon, that being the only distinction between them. Their heights and widths were almost identical, making it difficult for aany imposing attacker to tell who was already hit or drained. The one on the right carried a hand pistol, a shotgun strapped to his back. The one in the middle carried a sword, which was already poised to fight. The last had two claws strapped to his fists, clearly a master of martial arts.
The man in the middle, smiled, and leaped forward. The man with the sword jumped from his standing point and headed straight for the cloaked figure, ready to strike him down. The man swung his hand in front of him, and a bright blue flash signaled his weapon's appearance. A long dagger with a blue hilt and sharply tempered blade was clutched in his hand, locked against the opponents thin blade. The cloaked figure pushed off, sending the other man to the ground.
A gunshot rang out, and a bullet whizzed through the air. The bullet was blocked by the dagger, and it bounced off, landing on the ground to the right of the man in midair. He landed hard, skidding to a stop in front of the crumbling altar. Suddenly, the martial artist was in front of the man, having moved when the knife wielder had been trying to land. The claw scraped the very surface of the man's face, and he had barely managed to dodge the claw's intended spot of his neck. The man swung his dagger forward, and caught the man right in the side. He doubled over in pain, blood dripping onto the wooden floor. He head the sound of a blade scraping against the floor, and turned to see the same sword carrier running towards him.
In an instant, a ball of blue energy was rocketing towards the man, and struck him right in the stomach. The man was sent flying by the impact, and slammed into the back wall. The martial artist grabbed hold of the cloaked figure's arms, and held him still. The cloaked figure didn't move, and he heard the click of someone's finger on a trigger. The cloaked figure glowed eerily for a moment, and none of the men in suits knew what to do. A tear rolled down the glowing man's face, and he whispered quietly.
"Run," he said.
---
A column of blue light shot up from the old church, lighting up Kalseng's slightly tanned face. The wind toyed with his brown hair, sending it backwards. His torn white shirt was rippling gently, greatly contrasting the barely moving green jacket. A tear rolled down from his green eyes, and he wiped it off with his slender fingers. He quickly wiped them on his pants, and he fell to the ground, hugging his knees.
"Roland..." Kalseng muttered into his pants. The lone boy was sitting on top of a shed nearby, the steel roof still structurally sound. The man inside was practically his father, and he had planned to save Kalseng when they were coming. Kalseng had argued against it, telling him that he had to stay, but he was forced to leave. Kalseng took a moment to regain himself, and looked back at the remains of the church.
Rubble littered the ground, and there were no remains of the car that the three men had arrived in. The neighboring buildings weren't damaged by the explosion, but it wasn't as if they weren't going to collapse soon anyway. Kalseng heard he engine of a motorcycle, and saw a fourth man pull up in the bike. The man got down off the bike and removed his key. He casually walked over to the few remnants of building and kicked them around. All that was left were a few burnt rafters and part of the old alter.
The man pulled something out of his pocket and held it up to his face, looking around casually. He seemed to be talking but Kalseng couldn't hear him at all. The man looked around, and finally locked eyes with Kalseng. Both of their faces went pale, and Kalseng tried to stand up, a few shingles loosing themselves beneath his feet. He jumped off of the opposite side of the building, and looked around the corner of the building.
The man was making a dead sprint for Kalseng, a broadsword drawn at his side. Kalseng cursed under his breath, and did a barrel roll out from the shadows, pulling the energy up from the ground. He touched the dirt road, and pulled up the energy he could. The brief breeze that was going on before vanished nearly immediately, and wind started to kick up around Kalseng's arm. He concentrated, and the wind started to spin in a vertical column above his open right palm. It spun even tighter, and suddenly, a spear formed.
The entire bottom of it was a very light green, with a dark green cap on the bottom end. At the top, a simple blade stuck out about a hands with. Kalseng stood up promptly, and held the spear next to his body. In it's entire length, it came a little higher than a foot above his head. Kalseng smiled cockily, and laughed slightly.
"You sure about this?" Kalseng asked. The man didn't move at all, but a small bead of sweat rolled down his face. The fourteen year old pulled the spear down, and adjusted himself into a battling position. "Alright. Suit yourself." Kalseng gave a little shrug, and lunged forward. With a swift jab, he managed to cut the side of the man's arm before he got his spear thrown off. Kalseng quickly moved to the right, and swung left. His blade was stopped again, and the man got in close. He swung hard, but Kalseng jumped back in time to dodge.
Kalseng pulled in a bit more energy, and the air seemed to swirl around his palm. Kalseng smiled again and the wind picked up. Kalseng pushed his hand forward, and the wind shot out like a dart, slamming into the man's chest. He flew backwards, and looked at his chest. A moderately deep cut was where the wind hit, and it stung pretty bad. It was maybe an inch long, but it was painful. The man stood again, trying not to underestimate the kid's power. The sad truth was, however, that Kalseng was getting kind of tired. He probably couldn't beat this trained officer, but he could hold his own for a while.
A loud alarm went off behind him, and Kalseng whipped around. The city was built with huge walls surrounding it, with huge doors separating enemies from the inside. They were gliding together, closing up quickly. Large red lights at the top of the towers next to the doors were spinning and flashing, signifying that people needed to get in. They were typically kept open, but closed during wars or lock downs. Considering that there were no hoards of enemies charging the gates, it must be...
"Crap," Kalseng muttered. The doors were closing too fast, so he just turned back to the battle. He was now locked into a city with people trying to kill him. This was going to be one hell of a week. He felt something... Something reminiscent of what he felt in his magic... Something like Roland. "Another?" Kalseng murmured.
[[OOC: Longpost is loooooooooooong. So. This RP is invite only, but not only that, it's also got a couple of rules. While magic is abundant and plentiful, you can only use some basic magic, summon up a basic weapon, and have a little summon for use. However, I won't be opposed if you were to weight one with a lot of strength and make the others really weak points. That's fair, and a de-suifier. Also, when using magic, keep in mind that it comes from the planet itself, so when you use it, your surroundings relating to the element you use are going to weaken. For example; If you use fire, the fire around you has to die down for your powers to activate. If there isn't any fire, maybe it gets considerably colder. Find somethingto do. That's all.]]