Asmana grimaced as she saw the town. Bodies lay strewn in great heaps, men, women, children, animals, it did not matter. They were all gone. The roofs of the wooden houses had been set ablaze with a magic, lemon yellow flame. War, destruction, death. Pain was everywhere these days.

“I suppose this is one message I’ll never be able to deliver.” Asmana sighed, closing the eyes of a young man. She reached into her satchel and pulled out the yellowy scroll, tied with a crimson ribbon. “Good-bye, Village of Deyl Maran. No one shall ever hear of you again.”

She read the letter carefully, remembering the happy young girl with blonde hair who’d said, “Please take this to Deyl Maran. My fiancé, Auroon, lives there.” Asmana tossed the scrolled parchment into the flames. A tear slid down her scarily pale cheek.

“Good bye, Auroon.” Asmana walked away slowly, her crimson hair and black cloak billowing in the wind.

- - - - -

Over a year later, the same messenger Shade arrived in Belatona, where she had first met Poyna, the blonde-haired, green-eyed waitress at the Cave Rock Inn. Asmana extracted a worn leather bag of silver coins from her pocket. “It’s time I returned this, after what happened in Deyl Maran.”

Asmana gasped as a strong arm leaned against her chest and thrust her against a wall. “What do you know of Deyl Maran?” A voice demanded.

- - - - -

OOC: Feel free to join in, its open to everyone.

OOC: If I join in, will you help me with ideas for the rp?? im not very good, but i would love to learn!

OOC: Sure, wyrda{fate}, that's why I made this topic. Da Charr Killer, if you do not write in past tense you'll be ignored, please edit your post. Not to be mean, I still want you in this, but you have to follow all of the rules. Okay? You've been doing that in other posts, dispite my warnings . . .

OOC: When using third person does it sound like this?

IC: She sat there at one of the wooden, round tables watching everyone that was coming into the inn.Suddenly she heard a man speak and saw him through a woman against a wall. As soon as she saw this, she stood up to protest and to help the woman.

OOC: Is that how third person is done??

OOC: Yup, that was fine. And remember, everyone, check spelling and such so that this is PRETTY.

IC:

Asmana struggled against the pressure on her windpipe and lungs. With her Shade strength, she could through her holder off in an instant. However, until this point she’d been wearing a hood, concealing her eyes, hair, and ears, dead give-away’s to what she was. She was not ready to have this town look on her as a demon just yet.

“What do you want with me?” she gasped.

The figure was hooded in deep drown, with a sword hilt protruding from the waist. The hands were scarred and rough, but curved and thin, like a woman’s. The pressure on Asmana increased, and the voice spoke again, cracking and higher pitched now, “I said, what do you know of Deyl Maran? Tell me, or I will not hesitate to kill.” Against a human, that threat might have meant something. Against a Shade, as soon as a sword was drawn the neck would be broken. Asmana laughed, hollow and grave.

“Do you honestly think you can hold me much longer? Deyl Maran is gone, woman. You’re identity is no longer safe. I know all of the living realm.” Asmana laughed again, her chest heaving from the pressure. As strong as she was, her ribs could still crack. She reached out an arm with lightning-fast speed and twisted the woman’s wrist around. Asmana smiled as she heard the bone crack, laughed as the girl let out a whimper of pain. Asmana reached to the black leather belt at her side and gripped the ruby-studded hilt of one of her daggers. She twisted the woman around against her and held the dagger’s blade across her neck. “There’s poison in this, Lady, from a Death Friend Toadstool. All I can say about you now is this: you picked the wrong day to play with things you can not understand.”

“Wait-” the woman cried. She struggled against Asmana’s hold, frightening with all her pitiful human strength. Two perfect tears, smooth as pearls, dripped down her cheeks from her forest-green eyes. “If you are to kill me, so be it. But first, please tell me what you know of Deyl Maran. I have had no word from my fiancé there for eighteen months. I would like to know what became of him before I die.”

This caught Asmana’s interest. She tore off the woman’s cloak. This done, she gaped in surprise. The lady was no more than eighteen. She wore a loose, brown skirt and the puffed, off-white blouse of a peasant. The sword she wore was of copper, with no tangible value when compared to Asmana’s jeweled weaponry. Her wispy blonde air was in loose braid, falling to her hips. Her green eyes glared furiously at Asmana, the pain and anguish of a year of loss concealed within them. Her face was scratched and scarred, a purple mottled bruise adorning her temple. It was the same with her lean, muscled arms, bare to the elbow. There’s no way, thought Asmana, she can’t be.

Nonetheless, she gasped, “Poyna?!”

In an instant Bane had jumped on the women who had the dagger. He had meant to just shove but that shove became a tackle somehow. He dived and had hit her hard enough to cause some serious injury but yet none fell apon her. With her hood still up Bane had drawn his sword and held her at blade tip.

Asmana laughed sardonically. She pushed aside her attacker and laugher again, more viciously. “Ever lay a hand upon me again, knave, and I’ll see to it that both of yours are removed.” Poyna shifted uncomfortably. Asmana glared at the attacker. “You have no business here,” she said, her voice covered with a magic ray, “Leave, now. I’m losing patience.” Asmana watched as he stood still. She drew her black and grey Claymore and swung it over her head with two hands. Her slender, pale wrists gripped the sword as though it were nothing. Her violet eyes were set ablaze, crimson in her fury. Her hood fell back in the gust created by her stroke, revealing angled ears and a thin tail of scarlet hair. Her voice shaking, she repeated, “Leave, now, before there is no more left of you but a mere speck on Eternity’s Stone.”

"Shade," Bane Hissed when he had seen her hair and eyes. He had looked at her again and he walked away. He had walked all the way to his dragon, but when he got there some 3miles away he did not fly to his shelter. He had merely walked all the way. Knowing that there was a shade in the midst he had not wanted a shade, that could have possibly been working for the Empire, on their tails. When they had got to the shelter, Bane had kept watch half the night before falling asleep. With no one to keep watch, who had know what dangers could have be fallen upon him.

Oromis had been secretly investigating inside the empire. On the particular day he happened to arrive in Beltona, panic was arising. Two figures were fighting, one looking particularly skilled, and making the other look like a newborn. He quickly called in his mind to Ohen, and uttered a spell to release only parts of his mind. This way, magic users could still see his head unguarded, and assume him to be weak, but it was still guarding the precious memories and thoughts of his head. He asked Ohen to hide outside the villiage, just out of sight behind a rather large house. He approached the scene, looking no more than a short peasant dressed in a bright white cloak.

OOC: Check your posts for grammar. Da Char Killer, I have never seen a longer run on sentence than the one you just wrote - - FIX IT!