Dragnix.Net

The building was a sad excuse for a bar, but it was nothing compared to the rest of the town. In the wake of the recent dust-storm, a thin veil of dirt and sand covered everything from the weathered slats of the buildings to the unboarded windows, and even settled across the undisturbed, liquid surface of the watering troughs. The thought of paved streets had never apparently crossed the minds of the town residents, and so only a single, rugged dirt road ran between the two straight rows of buildings, now littered with rocks and debris from the wind of the massive sand storm. Indeed, it was amazing that, weathered and damaged though the buildings appeared, they had somehow managed to come out worse for the wear than the cobwebs that crisscrossed their patios, porches, and even the alleyways in between the small, ramshackle structures. The tiny webs appeared almost untouched, astoundingly, from the smallest, penny-sized ones in the corners to the larger, more sinister veils that crisscrossed the alleys. No one dared to try and take them down on a good day, let alone in this gritty aftermath. The residents of the town would tell you to avoid the latter at all costs... especially at night. Judging from the bleached, grinning bones that lay beneath them, one would do well to heed their advice.

This small township was on the map, and even had a name- Havensword- but at first glance, you would think that it was abandoned. No one wanted to venture out just yet, as the intense heat and sun were enough to blind the most hardened Hunter. The only sound to break the constant howl of the wind, in fact, was the eerie creak of an empty rocker. Even the bar's sounds were muffled in the haze that hung in the heavy air.

Suddenly, from across the Killing Fields there came a loud roar, as of an engine, that broke the calm. It grew louder, and soon a motorcycle crossed the border from no man's land into the relative civilization of the town. It's rider hunched low over the front of the sleek vehicle, even as it came to a rest before the bar.

Engine idling, the rider dismounted with a relieved sigh, and removed his helmet, revealing a shock of white hair that contrasted with the youthful features of his face. Indigo, cat-like eyes took in his surroundings through an extra set of goggles that were also covered in dirt and sand- as was much of his complexion, despite the protective visor on the helmet. Riding through a dust storm was never pleasant, but this one had been particularly nasty. The rider took off his leather jacket for a moment and shook it out, trying to get what dust he could out of it, though he knew there was basically no point. A cloud rippled up from the cloth, engulfing hsi person momentarily, only to seemingly resettle as he replaced it. For all his effort, he still looked pretty grimy and fairly dirty. The goggles were slipped off as he stepped onto the porch of the bar, pausing to survey the land he had just crossed. Tierisca thus far had changed little from his memories. He wandered if the creatures of the continent had in the absence of the Archai. With a wry smirk, he turned on his booted heel and headed into the bar to order a mug of beer.

As the man walked up to the bar their was already a customer being served. That drink was the places specialty Dustsand Ale which as ale's went was rather bland but it at least quenched the thirst that this god forsaken heat produced. The 6'3" creature drinking it could only be described as somehow being feral but exuded a noble demeanor despite his bestial visage. His features seemed to be that of the great cats called panthers but he was very humanoid. The creature looked up to see the stranger enter the tavern and was surprised for he didn't see very many Archai around anymore at least not full-blooded Archai as his race the Treinis was kin to the Archai.

"What brings you here stranger I didn't expect to see any kin around here my name is Binadorm." Binadorm said with an accent that seemed to be a tad harsh probably because of the races bestial heritage. Binadorm then stood up to welcome the Archai with a great pat on the back as if the mere fact that they were kin in some way made the Archai a friend to the massive Treinis. This display of affection seemed to shock the barkeep because he never seemed to see the big Treinis to talk much or even to interact with other people often besides acting as guide through Tierisca's dangerous countrysides and forests.

The stranger smiled and shook the Treinis' hand... er... paw before taking a seat at the bar beside him. His stature was only a little smaller than that of the Treinis, at six feet even, and so he sat nearly shoulder to shoulder with him. He ordered a pint of ale, at which the barkeep looked at him questioningly, wondering how old he was. The old man knew better than to ask an Archai (he recognized him by the slightly pointed ears) his age, as you never could really tell. With a shrug, he finally decided to trust the kid and set a mug before him, which the youth downed half of in a matter of seconds. He noticed the bartender's expression- half amused, half apalled- and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry," he said, taking a breath and setting the mug down on the bar. "Riding through a dust storm, its kind of hard to get the taste of sand out of your mouth." A quick shake of his head sent red and brown dust going everywhere, revealing a slightly whiter sheen to his hair. "It coats your esophagus with sand and that tends to make you a little thirsty." His tone was light, almost mocking as he took another, smaller sip before turning to the Treinis to answer his question. "Apologies, man," he said, raising his glass in a small toast to his bar buddy. "Malachi Nae-Anumin at your service. I'm not fully Archai, but I am here to find a little something about my people," he answered. A quick survey of the place told him that he may have come to the right place.

This was on the edge of the frontier- literally on the edge of the Killing Fields. The place had no air conditioning, only a few fans that lazily churned the warm, hazy air, and it had none of the amenities of a richer man's bar. Everything was basic, from the wooden tables and chairs to the gun rack sitting at the opposite end of the bar (empty, as it was, for it was there for the CUSTOMERS' convenience) gave away the gritty feel of the place. The sand even seemed to have crawled in under the door and across the floor.

The grin turned into a small smirk as he turned back to his bar buddy and continued. "Actually, I'm looking for a crew to go with me. I remember this place, but it's been a while to say the least. And you know as well as I that this is no continent to be traversing on your own."

"I would be honored to help my kin, Malachi and i know this land much better than most people ever could so i would be pleased if you would have me as your guide." The big Treinis said with a hearty laugh at the prospect of a little fun. Because frankly Binadorm did not like this town very well because although the Archai had always treated the Treinis as equals many other races still thought of them as barbarians and none too sophisticated. This town was not as unfriendly as others but still they didn't trust him as they would a human. "Even if you are not full Archai it is good to see that their legacy lives on in others beside the Treinis. The bright green eyed Treinis said with absolute sincerity for the Treinis considered lying bad manners although not revealing all you know is acceptable if the person is untrustworthy. But Binadorm would never think of hiding anything from kin especially an Archai.

Azrivel walked into the bar trying to keep his left arm secret, yet sadly it he failed doing so for a second and rewrapped his arm again with the brown tattered cloth. Azrivel walked towards their table and said, Hallow, names Azrivel. Now any one knows where one could find some silverfather? it is a plant that has leaves that look like silver fathers. I here they are good this time of year. Azrivel then sat down waiting for directions to an extremely rare plant that is said to be impossible to find.

OOC: I believe you meant "feather".

Malachi sat back and took a swig of his ale, pulling on the memories of his childhood. Images of the fabled silverfeathers swirled in his vision, and for a moment, he was taken back. The bar disappeared and he was in the middle of a cobblestoned street, a bustling avenue of farmers, artisans, and merchants running to and fro about him. Horses, Silcrans (odd, reptile-like creatures that could be saddled), and carts made thier way through the streets alongside Archai, Trienis, and humans. As he turned, he saw them in the distance, near the gate. But where was he exactly?

As the Archai came back to reality, he shook his head and took another swig of ale. "Sorry, stranger, but I'm afraid I can't help you there," he said with a small smile. "I remember them from my childhood, but I don't know where they were. However," he added, with a spark of mischief in his eyes, "I could offer you an opportunity to perhaps find them..."

OOC: Yah I suppose (word doc said I spelt it wrong when I spelt it exactly like that.)

IC; Azrivel smiled and said, I am listening seeing I need This plant. Oh and I am glad it reminded you of past memories. Azrivel wondered what this proposition was for the person Azrivel just met sounded as though it was a proposition. Azrivel knew that something interesting was about to be said and Azrivel thought that there might actually be hope on finding his plant.

Adrithie said to Azrivel, you know if he douse know where this plant is it would still not last very long in your bag. this plant need air 24/7 to stay alive or it would die instantly.

Silently Azrivel said to himself (Adrithie), I know that but I still need this plant because I am out. So shut up and leave me alone right now so I could finally find it. Azrivel was hoping that no one heard him talking to Adrithie. It was the only thing that every one keeps away from Azrivel for and Azrivel hated it when people act as though Azrivel was diseased.


OOC: is this better?

OOC: DM, you would not have seen his memories, they're in his head. The most it would have appeared is that he was in thought. Also, if you do not lengthen your posts, you will not take part in this rp. Sorry to sound like a bitch, but I am not about to allow my story to be brought down by one-liners. It does not happen in my rps. So get it together, or get out. (It's a pet peeve of mine)

The big Treinis sitting right next to Malachi gives a snort and says"You want silverfeather well i guess i could show you where you can get some but i will only do it if you promise only to take what you need. I say this because the plant must be able to replenish itself afterward." The Treinis then stared hard at Azivel and said "Another condition to me taking you to get some is that you tell me your name. I won't help anyone whom i don't know their name. My name is Binadorm and I will allow my KIN to introduce himself. The big Treinis then sat back and waited for a reply from this stranger.

The desert wind carried screams and the sounds of boot spurs ringing into the bar from right outside. Past the twin doors guarding the entrance, there was an apparent conflict unfolding judging by the shouts of an angry gentleman. What alarmed individuals such as Malachi was how the local townsfolk did not pay much attention whatsoever; They were without any interest in delaying their drunken endeavors. The shouts grew louder and more robust, and it was only a matter of time before rebuttals could be heard. Even with the elevated activity occurring, few decide to pursue the argument rather than tending to their coin or ale.

"You dirty bastard," a belligerently angry and frightened voice said, echoing into the bar. "You were suppose to work for me!"

"Yeah, guess you're right about that," another deep, robust voice replied. "But you forgetting one detail. The others payed me more. So you are out of luck bub."

"You can't do this!"

"I got two guns here who would love to disagree with you on that one, and a few bullets with your name on it who have been dying to meet you."

"Law... come on now. I can double what they are paying you! Triple even," the man pleaded.

"'Fraid not amigo. It would seem the Agusta brothers want you gone too, and they promised me a hefty price on that balding head of yours due to all your gambling debts."

"No! You are lying!"

"I am sure you wish I was, but the cold hard truth is they also froze your assets, which means even if you wanted to pay me triple to save your hide, you could not afford it."

The sound of the altercation caught the interest of the occupants of Havensword, most likely because money was involved. This city's population had learned very quickly that any disagreement involving money in this town usually involved bounty hunters and the event would surely end in death or at least an entertaining scuffle.

Around this hellhole, the locals looked forward to only a number of things: Getting the sand out of their ass, drinking themselves into a stuper, or watching someone get killed adding an additional set of sun bleached bones to the blanket of desert this town called home.

Two men were standing less than 50 yards apart from each other. On the Left stood a 6'2 man wearing a rugged, mud colored hat and a red decorative bandanna covering a majority of his face (probably because of the reoccurring sandstorms). Everyone could still see the smirk firmly pressed on his expression. His resonating green eyes glistened in the desert sun, but his glance seemed harsh and laced with dollar signs. Twin crimson and blue Single Action Army .45 Colt Revolvers hugged his sides in brown leather holsters. After pulling his bandanna down to his neck to light up a cigarette, Law inhale it's sweet poison and placed both hands on the ivory handles of his weapons.

On the right, a man with a receding hair line and hair as red as the desert sun was gritting his teeth in anger. His attire was black leather pants and jacket over a red flannel shirt. A shimmering white cowboy hat and gold belt buckle gave the impression the man was wealthy, or at least he was at one point in time. The rotting tooth with a gold cap and his clothing were probably the only valuable possessions the man owned at this moment.

"They... they can't do that! I made them what they are! I am Voodoo Brown! They can't screw me! I screw them!" The desperate man continued to plead with no avail.

"Sorry Mr. Brown, but you should have thought of all this before you tried to flee from your gambling debt making enemies along the way," Law replied with a sarcastic sigh. "It looks like your luck with the cards is not all that has run out. Enough talking Mr. Brown. I got a bounty to collect.

Law twiddled his fingers and clinched his fists above his beloved revolvers. The leather of his black gloves crackled as he placed his feet shoulder width apart and took a deep breath. The smoke exhaled out of his nostrils as his smirk evolved into a twisted smile.

"You smart elic punk! You filthy desert rat! I AM VOODOO BROWN! I made this town! I AM this town! You can't kill me! I AM..."

"Draw."

Brown reached for his gun holstered at his side, but as soon as the palm of his hand touched the weapon, Law had already crossed his arms grabbing both of his signature revolvers and fired two shots into each eye. The shots were only half a second a part from each other.

Brown went limp as his head jerked back from the impact of the bullets shredding his retinas and ripping through his cranium. His rusted revolver hit the sand with a thud, followed by his lifeless body falling forward on the ground. It was only a matter of seconds before the former Voodoo Brown was almost completely buried in the sand.

Law approached his target and allowed the products of his cigarette to fill his lungs. The smoke escaped his mouth as he smiled and collected a small, trinket clipped on Brown's belt along with his revolver.

"Another job well done, eh boys?"

Law twirled his weapons stylishly and holstered them both with simultaneous precision. After taking a small second to pause for dramatic effect, he turned to the audience gathered by the bar and inhaled his last breath of the cigarette before flicking it off into the distance.

"Hope it was quite the show," he muttered. "Never mind the blood in the sand, it will fade shortly." Law placed the bandanna back over his nose and proceeded to part the twin doors and enter the bar with his spurs chiming with every step.

(OOC: I know the yellow is hard to read, just highlight it.)

OOC: Exx i hope you don't mind but my character is going to know yours a little but mostly just a sort of passing familiarity

As Law walks into the bar Binadorm looks up and says "How you coming along Law you seem to be pretty busy lately?" The man had earned Binadorm's respect as he was one of the few who could handle themselves in the wilderness. The big Treinis then signaled the barkeep to get a drink for Law on him as he was in a charitable mood today since he had met Malachi who happened to be kin of his. Then turning back to the stranger he asked "So you going to accept my terms for helping you get silverfeather or not? Said the big Treinis a tad impatiently as he would rather be talking to Malachi than trying to do business. Binadorm made his living being a guide for people across the continent but usually asked for nothing unless he happened to take a particular disliking to the fellow. Most taverns gave him as much drink and food as he wanted as he helped people stay alive on their travels and they really appreciated the business.

A puff of dust entered the tavern as another man walked in, carrying a worn brown satchel slung over one shoulder. Ordering a mug of cheap ale from the bartender, he sat down on a stool with a deep, relaxing sigh. As another cloud of dust rose, it became evident that whoever this man was, he'd been working outdoors for several days. A university nametag identified him as Dane Kierson, Archaeological department. The condition of his gear suggested that he had just returned from a dig site. After satisfying a substantial thirst, he turned to follow the guide's conversation, absent-mindedly spinning a coin up and around his fingers.

Malachi tilted his head to one side, wondering how someone as seemingly... well tame as Binadorm knew someone like Law. Without being too obvious, he surveyed the cowboy-esque figure from across the room, wondering if he should even give it a try. Law didn't exactly seem like friendly type, but if provided with the right motivation, he could really prove an asset to the expedition. The Archai had just made up his mind to order him a drink when his new comrade beat him to the punch. With a small smile and teh shake of his head, he sat back and retreated back into his own thoughts. He'd find a way to bring it up. Someone like Law would know the Killing Fields really well, and he was not about to pass up on that opportunity, given his limited memory of the place- it had been a couple hundred years, after all.

For a moment, he tried to remember everything he knew about the Lost Righteous. There was uncertainty as to what, exactly it was and even he really did not know what to expect. He knew that it had something to do with the control that the Archai had once exercised on the continent, the means by which they had managed to maintain their hierarchy over the other races. Reaching into the depths of his memory, he recalled a veritable menagerie of otherworldly beasts- some fierce and almost demonic, others as dulcit as doves- all possessing power beyond what most humans could even imagine. Since the disappearance of the Archai, the beasts too, had disappeared, or become feral and ran amok in the lands surrounding the fabled Pinnacle. It was the high temple of the Archai and home, it was said, of the Lost Righteous.

The challenge was getting there, for in their absence, the lands around the temple had become as wild as the beasts of the woods. He would need all teh help he could get. But for the moment, Malachi opted to watch and see where this would go, observing each potential adventurer carefully.

Law scowerred the bar with glances of paranoid suspicion, but the greeting of a mutual friend eased his mindset as he felt there was no hostilities (outside of the norm) inside. After receiving the kind greeting from He walked over to Binadorm and slapped him on the shoulder playfully.

"Binadorm you o'l flea bag! How are you doing? Seems like the killing field has been kind to you seeing how you are still alive."

With a small chuckle, Law continued to hold a conversation with his furry friend. "Who am I kidding," he said. "You probably ripped a few throats out today!"

Law found an empty bar stool and quickly occupied it. His eye's lit up as the callous bar tender slid a cold pint of beer Law's way. His gaze was lost in the amber foam accumulated in his glass and his lips began to water. With a sight like this, it was easy to see that Law was a man who thoroughly enjoyed his alcohol.

"Binadorm, you shouldn't have! I got you next round. I never forget anyone who buys me a drink."

Law's head suddenly jerked in the direction of an attractive female waitress carrying drinks to a table of three. With a whistle he said, "Hey beautiful! You are looking as lovely as a desert flower !"

"Oh Law," she replied after rolling her eyes. "You never change."

"I guess not gorgeous. When are you going to tell me your name?"

"When I lower my standards cowboy. You know you are pretty calm for someone who just killed a man.."

"Your tongue has razor whips that cut me to the bone mi bonita!" Law held his chest and swayed to his left pretending to have a heart attack to muse the lady. She laughed for a spell and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Oh stop it you flirt!"

Law smirked and replied, "Guilty!" Though his attention quickly wavered to the newcomer in the bar. Law had a bead on his person right as he took his first dusty step into the building.

"What do we have here..."

"Ah Law the killing fields weren't for me today because i found some kin of mine it would be my pleasure to introduce Malachi he seems to want to put on some sort of expedition." Binadorm said while gesturing to his companion

I already volunteered to be guide as i know these lands better than most including you my hairless friend. At this he gives a hearty chuckle and if you didn't see his chest heaving you might have thought it was a growl

"Well that reason and the fact he is kin made me want to help him" With those words he gives a playful pat on Malachi's shoulder

"In case your wondering Malachi, I used to be a mercenary of sorts and had a job with Law which had us running for our lives but if my friend Law wants to tell it then he may have the honor" Binadorm said with a slight wave of his paw as if it were a small matter.

OCC: Are you referring to me or Ciardi's character?

OOC: Me or Exx i know i was referencing to Malachi and i assumed since Law was talking to Binadorm who was sitting next to Malachi he was talking about Malachi

Azrivel kept himself silent and then finally replied to Binadorm's question, My name is Azrivel. Azrivel hoped no one ever heard of him for Azrivel only kept himself secret for one reason only which was the fact he was a cursed one. Azrivel knew the eyes law had and it was the eyes of one who would kill and call it fun. Azrivel had the same type of spark in his eye but he was never able to kill for Azrivel always pushed himself away from doing so. I bet you know your blade better than you know yourself. This is a skill some would consider grand. said Azrivel with a smile, His arm was wrapped as though it was broken and Azrivel wanted it to stay that way. Azrivel thought to himself, The less everyone knows about my arm the better.

Adrithie was interested in this Law character and said to Azrivel, you should fight him for he would be a challenge you hadn't have in a long while

Azrivel replied to Adrithie as silently as possible, I will not fight him for I only want more Silverfeather plants. Now shut up Adrithie.

OOC: srry for not posting sooner. Kind of been a long school day at my house.

Binadorm's eyes swivel back to rest on the now named stranger Azrivel to say"Nice to meet you Azrivel now before i take you to get silverfeather i would like to know if you agree to the terms of only taking enough silverfeather as needed and no more than can safely taken from the plant"

Binadorm then said "I hope you realize that the place where silverfeather resides is deep within the continent near where the say Lost Righteous was and sadly if you don't know your way through the wilderness you will get lost and likely die" with a grave shake of his head the Treinis then said "Many a fool has gone off to get silverfeather without knowledge of the land and perished"

Then as if thinking on the subject Binadorm said"In fact many have also died on the search for Lost Righteous the last remainder of the power of the Archai although no one seems to be able to find it.

Malachi grinned and downed the rest of his ale as he leaned forward almost conspiratorially. The spark in his eyes had fanned into a wicked flame that people like Binadorm knew as the "T'luth Ri'en"- or "Imp's Fire" in the Archai tongue. It caught their attention because until now he had opted to remain fairly silent, just watching them all. In fact, for the most part, he had stayed out of the majority of the conversations and a few had forgotten that he was there. For them, he was just another new face, another wanderer, probably going to his death somewhere. But now something about his expression told them that they were about to get an explanation as to why each of them had been silently sized up as they entered the bar.

"What if I told you that I aimed to change that?" The smile in his eyes carried into his tone, and he viewed the sudden alert attention that he recieved with a deep satisfaction. Even the one or two that had until this point largely ignored his presence choked on their ale. All turned their gazes to him, their eyes hungrily demanding more.

A couple looked at him questioningly, their expressions showing a mixture of enthusiasm and cynicism. The Lost Righteous was a fool's errand, and impossible to find, but the mere mention of the ancient power turned even the most hardened scholar's head. The Archai left behind an amazing legacy, their abilities and talents still unmatched- even today. The legend of the Lost Righteous, with its promise of power, magic and wealth, drew scores of adventurers from across the galaxy.

Sadly, the way had become so perilous that none had survived, let alone FOUND it, but with each new attempt, more was learned, a few extra steps were taken in the right direction, and it kept more and more people coming in to try their hand at Fortune. Whatever it was, most would agree that it was worth the risk and nothing to joke about. Thus, they noted that despite the light, joking way in which he addressed them, there was an absolute seriousness underlying Malachi's tone. Having gotten their attention, he continued.

"I have a couple hundred thou. for each man that makes it with me to the LR," he said. "Not to mention a cut of whatever we find there. If memory serves me, the power in there is enough to keep each of us here very, very happy and comfortable for the rest of our lives. Though to be honest, I'm actually doing this just for the sake of finding it- its the last bit of my people that's left. You can understand my interest. So what do you say?"

Azrivel was not afraid and he was only worried of causing trouble with his arm. The only thing Azrivel needed was the plant Silverfeather and to keep his arm a secret. The Idea of a travel that no one comes out of alive for it always interested Azrivel and actually Azrivel considered it a figure of speech to call it unlivable to make it passed the desert. Azrivel said with confidence,I am interested and I need this plant. I will come with you on your journey. Oh and I agree to your terms for I will take all that I need of the plant. Seeds still will be left there for the plant douse grow fast and I need to get it before the full moon. Azrivel was hoping that Binadorm knew that Silverfeather only lives until a full moon which was two weeks from today. I will take all of the plants but the seeds for I have no use for them. Well maybe a few seeds but only about five. These plant grow fast with little care and can’t die unless beaten harshly or a full moon. I know how to take care of these plants and I know how to deal with them. continued Azrivel with a smile on his face.

Out of nowhere a small piece of the brown cloth was undone and showed a small bit of Azrivel’s left arm. Malachi was able to see the arm before Azrivel was recovering it with the brown cloth which worried Azrivel deeply. What if Malachi seen my arm? What if I am to be hunted by one more for my own curse? I hope he never seen anything? Thought Azrivel.

Law phased in and out of Malachi's conversation. It was unintentional, but Azrivel's strange obsession with his arm made it difficult to channel his attention and focus on anything else.

"You know, for someone who has taken a great deal of effort in concealing that arm of yours, you sure do talk about it a lot. I have not heard anyone say anything about it once, excluding you of course."

Before Law had time to say anything else, Malachi's words hit him like a ton of bricks. Malachi was also looking for the LR! Law had always believed that two people work better than one, so with this party accumulated together and searched for the LR, that would increase the chance for success into some ratio he had not the mathematical comprehension to devise. Dollar signs swelled up in Law's pupils as the possibility of wealth beyond his imagination.

"Well put her there partner," he said as he spat in his hand and extended it to Malachi. "As long as I get a cut. But one more thing before I jump on this bandwagon. If you try to screw me out of my cut, I won't stop until I bury you. We have a deal?"

Binadorm looks at Malachi with an expression of incredulity that swiftly transform to a broad smile. "I knew that you had some guts to you well you can count me in on this expedition because I'm always willing to help out me kin money or no." With that Binadorm gave a hearty slap on Malachi's back which almost pushed him off his seat. "It is good to know that me kin is adventurous, I love a good bit of peril to spice things up!"

Then turning to face Azrivel Binadorm said "Well I guess I will be helping ya with your silverfeather and yes, I know they are a hardy plant so as long as you leave plenty of seeds in protected areas then I am fine with you taking as much as you need." Then with a meaningful glance at Azrivel's covered arm"But you ought to know you can't fool the eyes of a panther, I know your arm isn't hurt so you can stop nursing it like it is"

Azrivel smiled and hated that rag of his. Taking off the rag Azrivel showed the arm that hardly matched the armor Azrivel was wearing. The Arm was stainless steel and the magic aura around it was strong, The details of the arm was dragons and it was scaly all around the arm (not including the details) even with the rag it was easy to see the HUGE spike coming out of Azrivel’s elbow. It was both beautiful and strange. Some of the people in the room was shocked about how Azrivel’s arm truly looked. But to Azrivel it was nothing more than a curse and a weapon. I guess this rag was too tattered to even try and hide my arm. kk now let’s start looking for this plant seeing we don't have much time left.

Adrithie was not so sure with law and said to Azrivel, Are you sure you can trust anyone here? They might turn on you the chance they get seeing there is more profit with less competition.

Azrivel knew he could trust everyone here for they all wanted to go to the same place for different reasons. Azrivel replied to Adrithie, Yes, I know I could trust everyone here for they don't want what I need.

For a second Azrivel thought about a cut of gold or whatever and then Azrivel had to say, How much of a cut are we talking about? The only thing Azrivel was thinking about at the moment was about this so called cut. It could have been gold or magic items. It interested Azrivel allot more than it would most. What could possibly be within this cut and by how greedy Azrivel truly is, how much could it truly be?

OOC: Ex Azrivel never said anything about the arm but he has been talking to it.

Dane's eyes finally focused upon hearing Malachi's pronouncement. "Lost Righteous?" He got up and approached him. "You're searching for it? Forget the money, mind if I come?" After four years of searching old texts and ancient writings, he finally had a way to find it. His eyes gleamed in the low light. At last, the discovery of a life-time!