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Night Stalker.


HeLLL

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"A friendly face is always welcome....I'll try not to bore you with my theories on Oblivion Streams," he chukles heartily, "let's get moving."

 

Concentrating for a moment on the death that permiates the stale air of the ruins he waves his hands in a number of gestures and then stettles them inside the sleeve of the opposing arm. Seemingly reserved and strikingly reverent around the fallen bodies his facial expression shifts to sadness, then anger, then again sadness.

 

Breaking through the echos of the ruin he calmly decrees, "when all is said and done, I and anyone who is willing should preform proper burial rites....in the rites that would be performed by a Tribunal Priest. I am in contest with their philosophy, but I dare not defile the religion of those whose souls have not yet been released to their proper places. If any feel it in their right to dissagree, I would gladly greet them with death!"

 

He continues to walk, humbly and sad, deeper into the ruins, searching his mind for a story or parable that might lighten the mood.

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Alenee follows down the corridor, making no disagreement or attempt at further conversation. As they move even deeper into the ruin, the noise grows in both volume and clarity. Alenee, seeming to sense something, stops and motions for the others to do the same. "Something's coming," she whispers to the others. She moves in front of the others, then shifts into a ready stance. Though difficult to see in the dim light, her pike has become half transparent, and moves as if much lighter. Alenee stops moving briefly, then whispers a few words in an unfamiliar language. A soft blue glow surrounds her, and her expression seems more confident. She raises her pike again just in time to see a group of 7 dwemer sphere centurions roll out of the darkness ahead. She holds her pike ready, waiting for the first to close into her range.
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<OOC, um I think HeLLL gets to determine whether or not 7 steam centurions come barreling out of the darkness. I suggest we wait for him to reply, I'll try and PM him to draw attention this way, or contact one of the other mods to see where he's been, but for now let's not take over the thread....T out>
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Damians' chin drop to his chest, settling his eyes on the oncoming centurions. Words begin to pour from his mouth, in a language only few would know (Daedric).

A shallow purple starts to form around the chanting mage; he blinks his eyes once, twice, three times now glowing purple.

 

Raising his palms in the direction of the rusty artifacts two ethereal eyes open in his palms and begin to glance around. Damian closes his eyes and starts moving his hands, palms afront around him, almost as though he's seeing with them. Suddenly he draws his hands back, leaving the eyes suspended in front of him.

 

Openning his eyes he waves his hands to either side of his body, causing the ethereal eyes to expand to the size of his head. Chanting in Daedric the eyes manuever on to his forearms (one for the left and one for the right). Raising his arms and crossing them in front of his face he stands, with the eyes securely attached to himself...ready to do his bidding.

 

He talks outloud, "So you wanna see what these things can do? Just leave me a couple of those balls of rust to play around," he grins smirkingly and confidently.

 

Calling out into the hallway he beckons, "LET'S PLAY!!!"

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