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Below are the 16 most recent journal entries recorded in Of Blood And Tears' LiveJournal:

Tuesday, November 20th, 2007
12:16 am
And the shadow of the day, will embrace the world in gray...

Many a year had passed since Nakamo had scribbled the date that graced the top corner of a page in her journal. The paper was yellowing and stale, but she still kept it reguardless of its condition. It was her past, her memories. The words brought back faces. 

Faces she sorely missed.

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Saturday, November 18th, 2006
10:31 pm
Where the twist flops
"Well, then, we'd better be moving." Oberon said, still gazing down the path. He felt a strange attachment to this pair; he didn't normally form any form of relationship with the people he met. Apathy was routine, contempt common. Yet this anthro and elf interested him, to some extent. And wherever they went, he saw no reason not to follow. He continued, "I put those initial hunters out of commission; they certainly shan't be following us, but they no doubt have friends and acquaintances who'll be baying for our blood in return. Onward we go."

Kyosuke lead the way as they trudged onward, Oberon staying as quiet as before, though not nearly as self-absorbed. Now he was alert, one hand still stroking the hilt of his concealed sword as they made their way to wherever this fabled campsite was. He saw no need to rest; he was more than used to staying up for days on end. And he was by no means used to sharing company. Perhaps he would part with them when they reached the campsite, he mused.

Nakamo broke the silence as they walked, Oberon's view snapping straight to her before she'd said but a word. His eyes were unnatural, and the way they seemed to bore into her own... for a moment, she was wordless, his gaze matching hers. After an infinitely long second, she began.

"So what is it you do?"

He chuckled softly, again stroking his weapon. "You saw it well enough earlier."

"But is that all? Just walking about looking for somebody to kill?"

"It's as good a job as any..."

She frowned, but he didn't follow; that grin of his still hung on his lips.

"I am a mercenary. Somebody needs a job doing, something tidied up, the right person killed... somebody has to, it may as well be myself." He paused to take another swig from his flask, wiping his lips on the sleeve of his battered coat. "I restore a little balance to the world."

"But you could have been one of those chasing after us.." Kyosuke interrupted. With a shrug Oberon replied.

"I suppose I could have. But I'm not. That alone speaks volumes, I feel."

"How do we know you're-"

"Not one of them after all? Well, I suppose you have the right to question my motives. But let me assure you," - at this point he stepped towards Kyosuke, turning his eyes towards the anthro with the same peculiar grin on his face - "if I had been after you, I would have gone about it a lot quicker. You have my word."

"How can we trust you?"

"That's your choice. I need no-one's trust."

"Please, please," Nakamo interrupted, perhaps seeking a little sanity amongst the slowly-rising testosterone rising, "let's just go. I trust you, Oberon."

Oberon kept notably quiet, merely looking over his shoulder towards him. He had the funniest feeling that she was, for once in his experience, sincere. So rare a quality, these days..

As they ambled onward, the dim lights of a small village were apparent, dancing on the horizon like fireflies in the air around them. Oberon paid them little heed; unless he could help it, he didn't go to villages save to find a place to sleep. Nor towns nor cities; he was as antagonistic towards people in large numbers as he was to their face. He never felt comfortable around large groups; his survival instincts had a tendency to make him seek escape as soon as possible.

However, that old saying about safety and numbers was not without some truth. Perhaps it would be wisest to stick to populated areas; they would stand out a lot less, and an inn generally offered some modicum of protection. Innkeepers can always be bribed, if not replaced altogether with one more sympathetic to your cause.

He smiled inwardly at this, and looked up again to offer this new nugget of wisdom.

"Perhaps the campsite may be somewhat lacking, as far as protection goes. There's a village about two miles ahead. I'd recommend we head for it."

He turned for a moment, looking at each of them in turn, then to the horizon. "At least, those are my thoughts... pay them as much heed as you wish."

Current Mood: blank

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Friday, November 17th, 2006
5:05 am
"Contradiction's all I have..."
When his eyes fell upon her she was suddenly struck with an unfamiliar feeling. It was if his gaze held more than just her mere image. Intimidating wasn't the word, but she found herself having trouble meeting those crystaline blue orbs.

It took her a moment to register that he'd replied to her inquiry with; "As far as I can remember", before his lips curled into an almost blank smile.

She looked away and cleared her throat. "You have not introduced yourself."

"Nor have you and your companion."

"I can already tell you are not a creature of social gestures."

"This...coming from a young woman clad in leather and malle?"

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest in an irritated manner. "Nakamo, and the anthro is Kyosuke."

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Monday, October 23rd, 2006
2:13 am
It was a funny sort of question to be asked, he felt, taking a moment to wipe his blade clean on the grass before sliding it neatly into its sheath. When it took him to come to someone's aid - that is, without being paid for the privilege - he was usually eager to beat a hasty retreat afterwards. It gave him an air of mystique, not to mention allowed him to elope before the authorities could catch up with him. Oberon operated strictly outside of the law, and whilst he had caught up with his fair share of criminals, it was fair to say he had appeared on more than his share of wanted lists.

Still, he wasn't usually asked to stay, either. Many of those he sought to defend would flee when they saw his methods. He was elegant, almost refined; but unrelentingly brutal in his execution. There was a reason he had struck each of his assailants but once, but every strike he landed was more than effective.

He turned to look upon the assembled faces staring at him. Years ago, similar faces stared at him with the adoration a public servant in high standing craved. Now they gazed with mixed awe, fear, and grudging respect, though from a safe distance. One hand still gripped the hilt of his blade. Crowds made him nervous. He didn't quite know why. Perhaps retreating back with company would be a better approach than his usual method of slinking out of town, hopefully unnoticed. He gave a soft sigh at his conundrum. Only one way to find out whether these people could be trusted.

"I suppose that if I come with you...", he mused, chancing another look around before looking back to the huddled pair, "I am at least guaranteed food, water, and shelter for the night?" Nakamo nodded, a quizzical expression on her face. He, meanwhile, ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as he looked at them.

"Whereas, if I walk that way..." He pointed down through the village as he spoke, the crowd all seeming to breathe in as one, "an uncertain path awaits me. Very interesting. Do I leave myself to the winds, or follow this new breeze?"

He laughed softly, shaking his head and grinning back to them, quite wildly. His eyes rested upon Nakamo again; always Nakamo. He didn't even know her name but was somewhat drawn her way; the anthro was quite convenient to ignore for the time being. Sometimes that could make all the difference. At least if he was taking the wrong choice... well, he'd die in good company. And they seemed truly grateful; not that he hadn't met excellent liars before, but one has to take a few risks here and there.

"The new breeze becons. I'll come along with you. It might prove interesting. I dare say it would be better to have company."

A smile came from both sides. Oberon, used to travelling alone, alone, always alone, was interested to see what would become of this little stroll alongside strangers. Nakamo and Kyo appeared glad that he wasn't about to kill them, too; at least, that was all that he could discern from their thankful expressions. If they were genuinely thankful, so much the better.

* * *

"Why do you walk alone?"

"Hmm?" They had been walking for a good ten minutes before the question came. Oberon looked up and turned around, lifting an eyebrow as he prepared his reply. The anthro's question was a good one, but he wasn't really in the mood. He sighed and spoke carefully, with all the restraint he could muster. "I walk alone because I always have."

"But why not alongside us? We could chat, if you'd like, and-"

"Alone." The truth was that he had been too caught up in his own thoughts to realise he was walking with company, so used was he to his life of relative solitude. He relented, letting them catch up before continuing to plod along, but if they tried to engage him in conversation he couldn't guarantee a reply.

"Have you always been like this?"

The second question took him off guard; this was from the woman. He paused for a moment, looking up again. Suddenly he was much more open to conversation.

Current Mood: apathetic

glimpsed the foreboding end.

12:17 am
"One hope, one desperation..."
The sound of bullets whizzing past her ear was encouragement enough to run for cover. Guns...anyone could kill with a gun. But, as she'd learned from experience, a gun could not kill everything it aimed to.

Nakamo grabbed Kyosuke by the wrist and dragged him, stunned, with her to hide behind yet another building. Her horse ran off with a frightened scream, leaving them with only their feet to escape on if it suddenly became necessary. She cursed at the beast and could do nothing but watch the onslaught of gunfire.

Current Mood: indifferent

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Friday, October 20th, 2006
3:52 am
Ignie Ferroque
Quite why Oberon went dancing madly into a hail of bullets was unknown. Quite why he did it whilst grinning from ear to ear was yet further shrouded in mystery; and why he should do so all in the air of two creatures whom he'd never met, would probably never meet again, and frankly couldn't see himself associating with, would probably remain one of life's eternal puzzles.

Or at least it would had Oberon had died. Alas, not this time.

Oberon wasn't dead. He was quite the opposite; after a brief, yet rather loud confrontation, he trudged back over into view, his sword resting on his shoulder at a jaunty angle, his battered coat showing a few more scuffs and scratches, and with a couple of warm, wet bullet holes in his shoulder added for good measure. The bullet holes, incidentally, weren't especially painful, despite their appearance; he'd suffered worse. (Though that arm, he feared, would probably be a little achey in the morning.)

He appeared almost, but not quite, perfectly normal, save the newly-acquired collection of wounds. He was tall and slender, with a high brow showing a number of scars, some much deeper than others. One single thin scar ran straight down his right cheek, through his eyebrow, and upward let further; the rest criss-crossed his forehead. His nose was pointed, though not to typical elven extremes; his cheeks were slightly sullen.

And then there were those eyes. As he look towards the pair he had dashed off to aid just a short while ago, those two pupils shone like gimlets, a crystalline blue shimmering behind them. They weren't even round, Nakamo thought, as he caught her eye. Something really wasn't quite right with that man.

How old was he, anyway? He looked young, but not; he looked wise, but not old enough to be. The sword he held in his hands was too old to be of his own craft, but how does someone like him get hold of a weapon like his? How did he fend off gunmen with a sword?

The question of why Oberon helped the pair would never be answered in his own lifetime. In his memoirs many years after the event, he touched on it only briefly; and one could almost read the knowing smile on his face as he wrote the words in his own ink. "Though helping strangers was never a task I relished, there were some who weren't as strange as others. The humans I couldn't abide, but the others... I could stomach."

Current Mood: amused

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Sunday, September 10th, 2006
7:03 pm
Well, if you insist
"What's an elf need with armour?"

Oberon looked down at the woman on the floor, somewhat curiously, tilting his head to the side as he stared down. He had the strangest feeling he'd seen her before... but memories were frequently untrustworthy, especially in this profession. For a moment he stood, bemused, before offering a gloved hand to help her to her feet. He vaguely noticed the anthro behind her, but paid no real attention.

He looked behind him for a moment, then back to the mystery elf. "The word on the underground grapevine is, the pair of you haven't been keeping your respective heads down." A smile crept over his face, shadowing his unnaturally-bright eyes. "There's a price on each of your heads. Any sensible person would collect..."

He folded his arms, before turning away, still smiling. "Happily for the pair of you, I'm not what you'd describe as sensible. Come with me. It's not safe here." He looked over his shoulder. "Trust me. I'm not going to kill you."

The crack of a gunshot caught him in sharp relief as fire flew through the air. Snarling, he looked over the horizon. Then he began to smile. Reaching for his hip he drew a long blade, grinning to the elf and anthro before running off into the distance. "Just wait there, mm? I'll be right back. You two are... special."

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Saturday, September 9th, 2006
9:06 pm
"You want me...come find me..."
The locks snapped free with an metallic clank. Kyosuke gratefully rubbed at his now bare wrists, what looked like a smile on his animal face.

Nakamo turned away from him and quickly packed her horse. She mounted and silently offered a hand to her new companion. He shook his head and backed away.

"The horse fears me, I'll run beside you." While he spoke his body was shifting. Bones crunching, joints popping, wetter things adjusting to fit in his new form. He was suddenly a very large black cat with haunches nearly as high as her horse's shoulder.

Had she the time, Nakamo would have stared in awe of such a creature, but the ever nearing sound of feet and the snarling of dogs set her heart racing. She forced her face to be stoic as she dug in her heels and leapt into a breakneck speed.

She didn't need to look back to know where Kyosuke was...considering she had a clear view of him from the corner of her eye. She'd never seen anything like him. She'd known anthro's in her day, but never one in his true form. He bound along beside her with graceful strides, dodging branches and pouncing off trees as if they weren't even an obsticle.

The trees soon began to bare as they ate up the dense forest. A sign that a road was fast approaching. Nakamo slowed her horse to a walk just as his front hoof touched solid dirt. Kyosuke crouched in brush at her feet, his throat resonating something like a thick purr.

"Do you hear anything, elf?"

"Not behind us, no. But I know this road, I travelled it many times. There is a town not far from here. I can lead you there, but whomever is after you knows my scent now, they'll be after both of us."

"You'll leave me?"

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Thursday, July 20th, 2006
12:20 am
Out of time
It was the small hours of the morning, and the inn was almost empty. Oberon still sat at the bar, idly nursing his pint; it was too early for bed, now, and he didn't feel like sleeping. Maybe he'd just take his things and go later; he could rest on the road. That was how he worked; snatching sleep, like employment, where he could. He was used to this little arrangement and could coast along on snippets here and there, though of course there was a certain je ne sais quoi for throwing oneself into bed, not to emerge for another day at least.

He wasn't alone at the bar. A young woman had been sat next to him for some time. It didn't bother him - he knew she was there, but politely didn't make it obvious he did - however she had been staring quite intently for the last half hour, and clearly had something on her mind. Oberon sipped his pint quietly. This would be interesting, at least.

"You haven't moved for hours..." she ventured, swivelling on her seat to look at him more intently. "Waiting for somebody?"


She smiled and took a sip of her own. "Not anyone?"

He gave a sigh, putting his glass down and looking up to her. "There is no-one I wait for. Usually they wait for me, though they rarely realise it."

"And did you ever... 'wait' for anyone?"

He frowned and went for his drink, only to be interrupted again. "I'm not waiting either, if you see what I mean..."

"I'll be frank. I once carried an affection for someone. We were close. Rather too close, in fact, considering it was frowned upon."

"And what happened?" she asked, smiling still. Oberon's frowned didn't waver.

"She asked me to elope with her. I told her it was impossible, as she well knew."


"And? And then she went and killed herself."

"Oh..." The woman went a rather unhealthy shade of white at this, Oberon still unchanging in his expression even as he sat back down, downing the rest of his drink.

"She had hoped I would join her in death," he continued, "sadly mistaken. Quite tragic, as it happens."

"Maybe... maybe it's time you moved on?" she ventured.


* * *

Oberon stretched as he awoke. He was glad to have gotten at least a little sleep that night; he felt refreshed, rejuvenated as the sunlight broke through the window and lit his body. For a moment he just lay there, content to laze, but eventually he slid out of the covers, getting to his feet and strolling to the window.

Lazily he reached over to the wall, plucking a dagger out and watching the body slump to the floor with a satisfying thump. Her blood began to pool beneath her body as he walked to the wardrobe, apathetically changing into his travelling clothes and stepping daintily over the legs that lay several feet away from the rest of her. Gathering his bags he slid the dagger into his belt, leaving his room and giving the door a firm slam behind him before descending the staircase.

"Here's an extra shilling for the hospitality," he said with an uncharacteristic smile, tossing the silver coin to the inkeeper as he left. "Farewell.."

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Wednesday, June 7th, 2006
10:56 am
"Are you stronger, for leaving me broken?"

The word sounded so simple rolling off her tongue. But the complexity of it was beyond comprehension. Freedom...what was it like to truly be free? Free of worry, free of fear, free of hate and anguish...free of life.

Nakamo blinked hard and swallowed as she stared long into the expression on the anthro's face. He was pleading for mercy, and scared for his life. Scared of her? She doubted that. He'd already proven he could best her in brawn. Whatever he was running from was what scared him. What could be so horrible that he'd wish to escape.

Current Mood: dirty

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Tuesday, May 30th, 2006
1:12 am
Trouble loves me
It was nearly dawn as Oberon approached the tavern he'd rested at the night before. He wasn't one to stick around after a job; there would be too many awkward questions, and in any case he held no love for the places he visited on his way. All he cared was that he was a long way from home, but even if he could go back there, he never would. (He had once confided to one of his few friends that, the last time he was there, it was as if he'd never been there before - every fragment of familiarity shattered in an instant. It may be physically the place he was born, but it was nothing more than a point on a map to him now.)

His entire existence was solitary by necessity. Not only was he a dangerous man himself, but danger had a knack of finding him. His uncanny knack of being just in the right place to be hired for a job also leant him to get into far more than his fair share of scrapes, and it wasn't luck that got him back out of them again. So he would hire a room for the night, do his dirty work, and leave the next day; always the same routine.

He did, of course, own one or two more permanent locations for when he needed a break, either just to unwind or to lie low for a while. He was far away from any of those, too.

One habit that did hang around him, however, was his fondness for a quiet drink post-victory. Before he would check his belongings out from his room he was certain to enjoy - 'Enjoy!' he thought, bitterly, 'As if there was anything to enjoy in life' - a few pints to make the night feel a little warmer. Sometimes he would drink more than a few. He didn't like to talk about that.

He stepped coldly into the tavern, wrapping his coat around him despite it being warmer on the inside than out. A few drinkers remained, some from long the previous day, but he simply ignored them and got himself a drink. He settled down in the corner, as was his way, bitter on the table, the book he had liberated earlier in his hand. (There was no particular reason he had chosen that particular book. The cover looked nice, he had to concede, but it was dreadfully ordinary.)

A commotion stirred him from his reading, and he looked up just to see a man stood on a table, bellowing with sword in hand. The weapon was a modern (for the time) duelling sword, probably stolen that very day from the blacksmith, now being used to commit petty robbery.

"Nobody move! Just hand over your belongings and we'll make this quick!" came the man's voice. Oberon sighed softly. Barely more than a boy, yet here this creature was trying to get the better on him. Oberon stood up, setting his book down on the table, and wordlessly strode forward.

"I said nobody move!" the boy yelled again, pointing the sword at his throat. Another sigh from Oberon came as he gently pushed the sword away, looking up to him. In the tavern's light, his face was more visible: two bright blue eyes shone unnaturally bright, piercing the air like daggers. His left eye, or rather, the left side of his face, was broken by a long, thin scar, which sliced nicely through his eyebrow. Quite how he'd survived a wound like that was a matter of some pride.

"You don't especially want to do that, kid." Oberon muttered, loud enough for the hushed crowd to hear. "Really, you don't."

"Why not?" came a defiant shout, the sword pointing back at him. Oberon sighed again.

"A lot of people have tried to kill me before. As you can tell, nobody has yet succeeded. If you would honestly like to try for yourself, be your guest. But let me warn you - you had really, really better kill me. Because if you don't, I can promise you that you will not be walking out of that door. You will not be walking, period. You will be very, very lucky if you can remember how to breathe."

Oberon tightened his fist visibly, a rare smile creeping to his lips. "Now, if you'd like to learn what the sunrise looks like, you may leave. Else you may well never see one again. Five seconds."

He smiled still as the boy yelped, dropping his stolen sword as he made good his flight out of the door. Oberon looked at the blade curiously for a moment before tossing it to the floor, where it harmlessly clattered down for the patrons to stare at whilst he made his way back to his book. His smile vanished. Such good entertainment rarely lasted.

1 Unicorn glimpsed the foreboding end.

Monday, May 29th, 2006
2:43 am
"I'm not waiting around for a man to save me..."
"If ye don't kill humans, then what do ye kill?" The man pushed himself slowly off the ground, using his tipped over chair as leverage. 

Nakamo paused long enough to answer with, "anything with lizard blood," and left the man to his own devices. 

She heard a roar of laughter resonate through the tavern as the doors swung shut behind her. Most likely the crowd's amusement had been at her expense. Strangers rarely took her seriously, which was why she aimed to ignore the general population when in public. To her dismay, it never worked. 

With a scoff to the direction of the business she'd just exited, Nakamo mounted her horse and left the small village in a trail of dust. 


Night fell only a few hours later. It had been a cloudless sky, but there were no stars and barely a sliver of a moon to light the way. She silently thanked the Gods for her gift of night vision. Her eyes shone silver with the lack of light, so to any passerby, she would appear to be nothing more than another nocturnal creature. Not only was it a defensive trait, but it often came in handy when she'd least expect it. She'd sliced her way out of a fair share of dragon gullets. 

She'd been wandering in an aimless direction all evening, letting her mount guide the journey. The monotony of it had started to wear on her long before the sun set. More than a handful of times she caught herself gazing of into nothing while her eyelids slowly closed. 

"Alright old friend, what say you we give Morpheus something to do tonight, eh?"

The huge black steed snorted his approval and headed into the trees along the path they rode. The horse manuvered effortlessly, dodging low limbs and fallen logs. He didn't even spook when an owl called ominously from above. Times like this Nakamo was thankful that the old Elven Mage had bound him to her when he was just a colt. The two had grown up together, and would most likely die together if either had their way. 

He stopped suddenly when the ground leveled out. They were in a small clearing, with just enough shelter from the foliage to both shelter and camoflauge both horse and rider. 

Current Mood: tired

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Sunday, May 28th, 2006
4:59 pm
Fortune favours...
A small army gathered around the firelight. A rag-tag group of warrior-men with no particular home, no particular goals, barely even a gold piece between them for sustenance. Of course, they'd get their pay eventually, but not until they'd done their work, of course. Spirits were high, nonetheless, with a few discussing tomorrow's 'job' and trying to decide what they'd do with their share of the loot.

It wasn't to be an easy assignment. Few of the cadre were veterans of any sort of combat, and despite their enthusiasm they knew there was the chance that they could easily be overcome. Their chosen target was the provincial governor's mansion, their aim to make off with as much of his Grace's valuables as they could. With a local garrison on constant patrol, the likelihood of a clean getaway was hardly stellar.

Away from the camp sat two figures, one gazing out over the horizon, the other rather nervously scribbling down notes as they spoke.

"My services do not come cheap..." the former began, his vision creeping upwards towards the sky. "But owing to the nature of the target, I'm prepared to make a certain discount."

"Are you as good as you claim?" the second asked, hesitantly. He was clearly the leader of this group of would-be bandits, and apparently their paymaster as well.

"Better." the first man began, standing to his feet slowly. His coat swept around him with a certain sense of majesty, despite being battered and well-worn; his attire had seen better days. Long hair tumbled down his back to his waist, a flick of his hand pushing it out of his vision. "Hence the price."

"I know, I know..." the leader replied, digging into his own coat and handing a loose bag of coins to the mercenary. "You're fleecing us, I swear..."

"Don't pass judgement until you've seen what you've paid for."

There was little else to be said. The thief sighed wearily and went back to his men, whilst the mercenary just stared. Always staring...

He had a reputation for odd behaviour, did Oberon Darksoul. The man had a habit of turning up at just the right time to offer his services to anyone who was looking, charging a high price but rarely leaving his 'clients' unsatisfied. He never seemed to work for the same employer twice - he would always refuse further offers, no matter what the price - and could never be sought out, choosing to reveal himself instead of being contacted directly.

He never spoke or even associated with the majority of his clients, save negotiating his wage, and almost never showed a hint of emotion except what appeared to be overwhelming contempt. His fighting, however, was what drove people to hire him, not his fireside chat.

* * *

A few hours later, and life for the Governor's personal guard couldn't be more fun. First they had been rudely awakened by a loud explosion at the gates, the next they knew a horde of ruffians had begun to pour through the gates. Sadly, for a group of reasonably competent thieves, the guards had been quick to react, and soon the horde began to dwindle as a desperate counter-attack was mounted.

A sudden gust of wind was all one of the guardsmen felt before suddenly he was stabbed. His counterpart standing next to him turned, coming face-to-face with a fist, before a slash appeared at his chest as if on its own. As the two fell to the floor, Oberon casually walked past his employers, who all simply stared back in amazement, having just witnessed the two who had successfully held the gates for a good fifteen minutes drop in the blink of an eye.

Swarming out of the building were more and more guards, those already outside flocking towards the breech in the defences. Oberon simply continued walking towards them, his sword glinting in hand.

* * *

Amidst the burning rubble that remained of the Governor's home, the leader found Oberon casually reading a book liberated from the building's library. He was deep in thought, flicking the pages almost as soon as he had turned to them, but almost certainly managing to read their contents in that time

"Good job back there... the boys won't stop talking about you. You're quite the fighter, aren't y-"

Oberon snapped the book shut, turning around with his usual expression of scorn upon him. "I know."

The leader frowned, turning away huffily. "Was only saying. Guess you're not fond of compliments, huh?"

He looked back; Oberon was already walking away himself. The mercenary had no wish to stay around these men, and in all likelihood, neither would see each other again.

glimpsed the foreboding end.

2:39 am
"Life is still worth living..."

A society is a lawful order of people. But what happens when there is no order, and the law is determined by only a man's will?


In a world like that, a man has to hold his own--protect what is his, or lose everything. Surely, women would be less inclined to populate in areas where criminals and murders ran rampant. What if a woman had not been given a choice in the matter? What if she were thrown into the mix and expected to survive? One could only assume that if she did not adapt, she would die. But take, for example, a woman with no fear for her own existence, no fear of what path she treads down. What hand would the Fates deal for her?

Nakamo was never the type to be philosophical. That is, until she came across company that welcomed her presence instead of mocked it. She was a huntress, a slayer, a warrior with the battle scars to claim her title. But she did not serve a monarchy and rarely did she hire out her skills. No, she served her own vendetta...a pledge she'd made many a year ago.

"Tell me lass, may I buy you a drink?"

Nakamo smiled just enough for her dwarfed fangs to dent her bottom lip, "A bottle of brandy...and a glass."

The man that sat across from her offered a similar smile, sans fangs, "A rarity for a woman to know what she wants. Nonetheless a heavy drinker, I imagine."

"I may be smaller than a six-hand horse, but I can assure you, I could drink you under this table...sir."

He laughed and leaned over the table, a glint in his eye Nakamo had seen too many times to count. He was amused by her, and quite obviously found her curtness attractive. It made her stomach roll. As much as she despised the fact that flirtation could be a meal ticket, she wasn't about to pass the chance. Gods only knew when she would eat a full meal again.

"Right then, lass. Your drink it is. Dare I ask you to join me in a plate of this fine tavern's special and conversation?"

"Seeing as you've already engaged me in said conversation, I suppose a bite to eat wouldn't hurt."

glimpsed the foreboding end.

Saturday, May 27th, 2006
5:41 pm
I am hated for loving
Don't consider me your friend. Don't even think of me as an enemy or a target. Just ignore me, let your own life carry on without me at your side. Relax, I'm not going to hurt you.

Or perhaps I might? You can never tell with me. Stay away for your own good.

I am the son of a great man - a great creature - taken before his time. Cruelly snatched from me by the winds of fate and ripped from my life. Every creature has their time but this was not his. My mother lies dead beneath the earth, and as for siblings? Let's just say I had a lonely childhood. Now truly I am alone I can reflect on that.

I come from a long line of fighters, passing our skills and wisdom through the family line to one another in the old tradition. Even my sword was once swung by my ancestors, and now it remains to me to continue the work we have done. I am the mercenary who sits in the corner, the hired sword who'll help whoever pays the highest.

I am the nomad who never remains still. I am the leaf on the the cold breeze that blows through your town, settling only as long as conditions allow before being whisked away. But believe me, you really don't want me to stay. There's blood on these hands. Too much blood...

But we all have our lot in life, no? So you stick to yours, and I'll stick to mine. You won't even know I'm here...

Current Mood: discontent

glimpsed the foreboding end.

4:52 am
"I'm right on the wrong side of it all..."
I did not ask to be born into a world like this...full of pain and poverty. I did not ask to be of my blood, but then when has anyone had the choice of their heritage.

I am not ashamed of what I come from...but more ashamed of what has become of them.

Current Mood: drained

glimpsed the foreboding end.

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