Nebula Gravis
04-07-2012, 01:54 AM
Suddenly, a loud noise breaks the otherwise tranquil night.
Zackwell's hawk-like eyes flit open suddenly, as he sits bolt upright in the chair.
As he looks around, he can see naught but darkness and hear nothing but silence.
As he goes to relax again, he sighs.
"Guess that poison really took a bite out of my energy... I feel like I've slept for days."
As his eyes begin to close gently, a premonition hits him deep in his gut, like an iron fist.
He jumps from the chair, standing bolt upright. His sharp, golden eyes glow dimly through the darkness.
In an instant, he kicks the chair he was sitting on accross the room. Instead of meeting a stone wall, the sound of a dull thud, followed by a cursing voice.
Zackwell moves his head to the left slightly as a small dagger whistles past his ear, shearing a few strands of hair from his head.
As if from a fountain, bright golden flames begin to spout from Zackwell's fingers. He drags his arm through the air, and the flames cut through the otherwise impermeable darkness like a sword through butter.
He walks accross the room, 'tearing' the darkness from the air, before he reaches down and picks up a scrawny looking man from the floor.
The man, whose face is clean and silken, wears clothes made from an obviously expensive material.
Around his neck hangs the emblem of one of the noble families.
"Well well well..." Says Zackwell, a smirk growing on his face. "You're a posh little weasel, aren't you?"
The man squirmed. He had the expression of one who had trodden in dog mess. "Unhand me you grubby... Unwashed... Filth!"
Zackwell's distaste could not have been more apparent. A scowl broke across his face.
He picks up the chair sits him in it.
"I'm a very good friend of the man who lives here. I'm intrigued to think why someone from one of the noble houses would want to creep around like some kind of insect in his house."
Zackwell clears his throat.
"Not to mention using something as cheap as a darkness glyph to try and hide yourself."
The nobleman's eyes thin, and his nostrils flare.
"I warn you... If you don't let me go right now, I'll have the entire city guard after your head!"
Zackwell plays with a small fireball in his hands with the same scowl fixed on his face.
"You're probably a narrow-minded kinda guy. So I'll keep this conversation easy to follow for you."
Zackwell shoots a fierce glare to the nobleman.
"You can tell me what you wanted with Cristoph, or I can burn you. Simple, eh?" Zackwell begins to smile as he juggles a couple of fireballs.
Without hesitating, the nobleman makes a mad dash for the exit. He trips on Zackwell's outstretched foot, and faceplants into the ground.
"TELL ME!" Zackwell shouts, before flipping the man over and pointing a large ball of fire at his face.
The severity of Zackwell's gaze right now would be enough to scare any man, even without a fireball.
"SILVER!" The man exclaims, shaking, in a grizzled lump on the floor.
"Silver?" Zackwell scratches his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, but Cristoph doesn't have any silver. He can hardly afford an ounce of rice, let alone ornaments."
The Noble man rolls his eyes as if Zackwell were some kind of uneducated fool.
"Lunarian Silver!" He says with the voice of a connoisseur. "One of the rarest and most valuable artifacts in this world! Why, a single coin could buy one this entire city!"
"Really now? I can see why you would want it. But stealing?" Zackwell sighs and kicks the man in the backside. "Get outta here."
The man scrambles on the floor before sprinting out of the door. As he steps through the door, the darkness fades away, revealing a bright morning sky.
"Damn..." remarks Zackwell as he sheilds his eyes from the light.
He steps out into the daylight.
"I slept too long..." He takes a deep, contemplative breath of fresh air.
"So... Lunarian silver... And someone out there has enough of the stuff to spend it willy-nilly on cart rides."
He looks at his feet. "MY cart ride. Whoever this person is, I hope they can spare me some of that silver for my trouble. Should I meet them anyway."
Disgruntled, Zackwell starts walking down the road to the port.
Zackwell's hawk-like eyes flit open suddenly, as he sits bolt upright in the chair.
As he looks around, he can see naught but darkness and hear nothing but silence.
As he goes to relax again, he sighs.
"Guess that poison really took a bite out of my energy... I feel like I've slept for days."
As his eyes begin to close gently, a premonition hits him deep in his gut, like an iron fist.
He jumps from the chair, standing bolt upright. His sharp, golden eyes glow dimly through the darkness.
In an instant, he kicks the chair he was sitting on accross the room. Instead of meeting a stone wall, the sound of a dull thud, followed by a cursing voice.
Zackwell moves his head to the left slightly as a small dagger whistles past his ear, shearing a few strands of hair from his head.
As if from a fountain, bright golden flames begin to spout from Zackwell's fingers. He drags his arm through the air, and the flames cut through the otherwise impermeable darkness like a sword through butter.
He walks accross the room, 'tearing' the darkness from the air, before he reaches down and picks up a scrawny looking man from the floor.
The man, whose face is clean and silken, wears clothes made from an obviously expensive material.
Around his neck hangs the emblem of one of the noble families.
"Well well well..." Says Zackwell, a smirk growing on his face. "You're a posh little weasel, aren't you?"
The man squirmed. He had the expression of one who had trodden in dog mess. "Unhand me you grubby... Unwashed... Filth!"
Zackwell's distaste could not have been more apparent. A scowl broke across his face.
He picks up the chair sits him in it.
"I'm a very good friend of the man who lives here. I'm intrigued to think why someone from one of the noble houses would want to creep around like some kind of insect in his house."
Zackwell clears his throat.
"Not to mention using something as cheap as a darkness glyph to try and hide yourself."
The nobleman's eyes thin, and his nostrils flare.
"I warn you... If you don't let me go right now, I'll have the entire city guard after your head!"
Zackwell plays with a small fireball in his hands with the same scowl fixed on his face.
"You're probably a narrow-minded kinda guy. So I'll keep this conversation easy to follow for you."
Zackwell shoots a fierce glare to the nobleman.
"You can tell me what you wanted with Cristoph, or I can burn you. Simple, eh?" Zackwell begins to smile as he juggles a couple of fireballs.
Without hesitating, the nobleman makes a mad dash for the exit. He trips on Zackwell's outstretched foot, and faceplants into the ground.
"TELL ME!" Zackwell shouts, before flipping the man over and pointing a large ball of fire at his face.
The severity of Zackwell's gaze right now would be enough to scare any man, even without a fireball.
"SILVER!" The man exclaims, shaking, in a grizzled lump on the floor.
"Silver?" Zackwell scratches his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, but Cristoph doesn't have any silver. He can hardly afford an ounce of rice, let alone ornaments."
The Noble man rolls his eyes as if Zackwell were some kind of uneducated fool.
"Lunarian Silver!" He says with the voice of a connoisseur. "One of the rarest and most valuable artifacts in this world! Why, a single coin could buy one this entire city!"
"Really now? I can see why you would want it. But stealing?" Zackwell sighs and kicks the man in the backside. "Get outta here."
The man scrambles on the floor before sprinting out of the door. As he steps through the door, the darkness fades away, revealing a bright morning sky.
"Damn..." remarks Zackwell as he sheilds his eyes from the light.
He steps out into the daylight.
"I slept too long..." He takes a deep, contemplative breath of fresh air.
"So... Lunarian silver... And someone out there has enough of the stuff to spend it willy-nilly on cart rides."
He looks at his feet. "MY cart ride. Whoever this person is, I hope they can spare me some of that silver for my trouble. Should I meet them anyway."
Disgruntled, Zackwell starts walking down the road to the port.