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View character profile for: Cyndel Blackfar
View character profile for: Artimis
View character profile for: Vader
A rough start to the quest
Vader didn't like the looks of the crowd that was gathering. Particularly, he didn't like how many of them seemed to be eyeing him, with weapons drawn. Had they figured out that he wasn't a player after all? He tightened his grip on his sword. Some seemed to be inching closer.
"You only see this many guardsmen at one time when some player gets the wild urge to slaughter all the NPC's in town for fun." Cyndel said aloud, though more or less to herself." Do you think they remember, I mean when shit like that happens?"
"I would," Vader replied flatly.
"Maybe I should change my racial subtype to Silver or Moon Elf if we still can when we get there," she said.
"I doubt it would help," he said.
Just then, the crowd seemed to reach it's boiling point.
"If you've any sense of self preservation, I would head for the outskirts of town now," he said.
As the crowd descended on them, he struck out. Swinging a sword as long as he was tall, he caught three guardsmen off guard, disemboweling them. Enraged, a dozen more charged with pikes.
"Veil of Corruptus!" he cast his one and only spell.
Instantly, the entire guildhall was vailed in a darkness so overpowering that lit torches couldn't penetrate it. As his sight was unnatural, he of course had no trouble seeing through it. If they listened, amongst the confused banter, one could hear the sickening 'snicker snack' of an unnaturally sharp blade slicing through moist flesh. Confused shouts gave way to panicked screams as bodies hit the floor.
Once outside, Vader mounted his horse. The beast was obviously unhappy with its new rider, but a harsh kick to the ribs sent the horse galloping towards the edge of town, regardless. Fresh blood dripped from his blade as he went. Two more guards attempted to block his way, but he easily relieved them of their heads.
"By Corruptus!" he yelled as he went.
On the outskirts of town, he jumped a fense and kept on riding. Crossing swords with a Dread Knight was tantamount to suicide. But chasing one on horseback was certain death.
Once far enough away, he ran into Artimis of all people, sitting astride a grey mare near a lone tree.
"I see you've survived," he said, flicking blood from his sword. "The others should be along shortly. Or not at all."