A Pain in the Neck

[Alain the Carnedge]

The wasteland was a pretty dramatic contrast to the white abyss that he was in before. So were the bones that were littered all around the cliff which he was about to go hurtling down. Aw, hell. Alain jumped off as he hit the ground, his vehicle in mid-air for just a second before it landed with a horrible crunching noise, completely crushing the bone it had landed on. Continuing to speed off the cliff, it flew off the edge and hit a tree before the impact with the ground. Alain slid down the cliffside, stabbing his blade into the rock as he approached the bottom to lower the speed of his descent, and jogged over to the bike to survey the damage. It was by all purposes, decimated. A wheel had fell off, there were more than five different holes of varying severity, and there was more smoke coming out than he knew was even possible. Should've gone slower. Now what? There was only the distant howling of wolves to be heard through the fog that enveloped the wasteland in front of him. Alain ditched the idea of creating another bike very quickly, as he imagined it'd end with either crashing into something in the fog, breaking the new bike and likely a few of his own bones, or getting assaulted by some kind of monster that was attracted by the noise, though both happening weren't exactly out of the question either.

None of his other choices were very desirable, so he gave up and resigned to walking through the fog instead, making sure to use his Dataverse Device so he could do something as he took a nice, calming stroll through the badlands. Moving for what seemed like forever, the only sights being blood, bones, fog, more wasteland, and the flickering image of his device's holographic screen. He tapped the headphone more than a few times in some kind of reboot attempt, but it did nothing at all, the screen merely continuing to have short bursts of static before cutting out entirely, then cutting back in another few seconds. It was annoying, but he persisted until he did everything he wanted in the Dataverse, then resolving to the fate of marching endlessly forward. The stench of death, decay and the like weren't exactly helping Alain's opinion of the place, though neither were the constant howling coupled with what he swore were sounds of flesh being torn apart by some starving, perhaps desperate creature. While it was expected that something would jump out at him on the endless stroll into the fog, a horde of vampires, zombies, skeletons, or maybe just a pack of wolves, nothing that he saw even approached him, the noise eventually fading into nothing but dead silence. After a few hours of walking, staring at the sunless sky out of pure boredom and a significant amount of consideration at the idea of setting up camp, Alain eventually arrived at a small, apparently deserted village.

Alain moved through what would've appeared to be a ghost town at a first glance, all doors closed, no sound made whatsoever. He'd stopped and sat down for a few moments, wondering if he should loot the houses or use them as shelter. Alain heard the creak of a door opening behind him as he was still thinking, turning around to greet who, or whatever stepped out. "Uh, hi?" The resident of the village slowly opened the door and walked out, hesitant. "You're not a vampire?" Alain gave them the angriest glare he could, and they merely stared back. "Yeah, I'm a vampire that just decided to walk straight through your village. Without pale skin. And no armour or weapons on me. Idiot." The villager showed no sign of offense at all, merely stating his request. "Look. You're clearly tired from walking here..." the villager looked back down the road Alain walked down, likely to check if he actually had wandered in on foot. "And we need your help. There's at least one person in the village who's one of the nightwalkers. I'll give you a place to rest in my inn, but in return, you find out who these people are." Though it was something to do, Alain was skeptical. I just happen to walk in while this guy's got a job for me? Unlikely. Not impossible, however. "And I should believe you why? I just got here, and you having a job for me seems a bit more than a coincidence...not to mention, that if you are telling the truth, you shouldn't really be trusting me, should you?" The Innkeeper thought for a few seconds before responding. "We've been living in Darkshire, basically a highly fortified town, for a while, but ever since they got the hint that we had a vampire in our group when we first moved in, we were all kicked out before a single person could protest. We're only alive because Dracula's vampires are far too focused in their attempts to breach Darkshire, they weren't aware that some of us were kicked out, now defenseless. The vampire with us, however, has likely gone rogue.Also, no, I shouldn't really trust you, but Dracula's army will find us soon, assuming the bloodsucker here hasn't killed us all first. So, what do you say?" Alain sighed in annoyance. He didn't appear to be lying. Oh well, better than sleeping on the ground and getting stabbed in my sleep. "Guess we have an agreement."

[Alain the Carnedge]

"So, I hired you...care to explain why I have to assist you?" Alain shrugged at him and got a glare in return. He'd gone to sleep, woken up, asked the Innkeeper to "help" in his vampire hunt, and now, here they were, standing around the corner of a house like jackasses. "Bah, details, details. You're helping me because you care about getting into Darkshire so much. Anyone suspicious around there?" The Innkeeper peered around the house's corner, the rotted wood falling apart where they laid their hand on. "Only suspicious people around here are us, genius." The red reaper raised an eyebrow at his "client" and decided to mess with him. "Are you the Vampire?" "Piss off." Alain smirked at the innkeeper's back in the most obnoxiously smug way possible as he leaned against the wall. "Y'know, standing outside people's doors and hoping they do something suspicious isn't going to get us any results." The Innkeeper kept his back turned, his annoyance becoming evident from his tone. "Why can't you just break into the houses? You're not exactly the nicest of people from what I can tell." "Oh, well aren't you boring?" "You brought me out here for nothing!?" The innkeeper responded in a furious whisper. This guy's no fun. Fine, I'll do it myself. Killjoy. "Thought it'd be amusing; you can leave now if you wish, I see no further entertainment to be gained here. Though I make no guarantees to your safety if your choice is to return to the inn." The angry townsman turned around to reply once more, but was only greeted by the thin air where his "investigator" just was.

[Alain the Carnedge]

The dark sigils spread across the crimson when he started to move, Alain and his attire fading into shadows as he walked past his client and down the path. Guess I'm on my own. Shocking. He continued moving while thinking about how to find a bloodsucker who was undercover,but suddenly stopped in his tracks as the ground trembled, accompanied by the incredibly unpleasant sound of wood and stone getting crushed. Oh, don't forget the screaming. Alain turned around with an exasperated sigh, greeted with the sight of a building-sized monstrosity which now replaced the house that used to be there. Well, it was still "there", just under the foot of the hulking abomination that was now stepping off the remains of what used to be a person's home, albeit not exactly a well-maintained one. A few sprinted out of the remaining buildings half-naked, likely in the interest of not getting decimated by the monster, dignity be damned. The creature apparently deemed them unworthy of it's wrath...but not the houses though, it still smashed those to pieces without a care in the world, along with the people who probably stayed in and hoped for the best or tried to get dressed instead of saving their own lives. The monster eventually passed what remained of the village and probably went to go annihilate something else, the remaining residents retreating into either the inn or the houses it didn't wreck. Alain maintained his invisibility as he observed the survivors, then decloaking after they had shut their doors. He immediately searched the Dataverse in hopes of finding out what he just witnessed, and only found one result for "Building Sized Monster That Hates People and Actual Buildings": Tarrasque. Cool. I'll go kill it later, but I've got stuff to do for now. He waited outside the buildings for his time to strike; Bloodsuckers do need sustenance, after all.

It says a lot about a person when they get used to a stench of death within maybe a day, perhaps two. Also says a lot about a person when they're conjuring dark knives (which weren't actually sharp, go figure) and throwing them up and down in one of their hands while using the other hand to search stuff on what's essentially a super-internet. Didn't take long for him to give up on that course of action, though as he started walking towards one of the doors,another one opened. "Hello?" Alain activated his invisibility immediately, sneaking behind the suspect as they walked out the door. Hell with it, if I guess wrong, wasn't part of the agreement that I couldn't kill any of the villagers. The red flash caught the attention of his target, but too late; the blade had already cut through their neck like butter, severing the head in one swing. He crouched down to examine the head and didn't see a mark. "Well, oops." He got up to continue his "investigation", if all else failed he could just ditch 'em. "And where do you think you're going?" Oh, god damn it.

He woke up in a giant, old-fashioned coach, the windows showing nothing but black outside. The only other passengers were an Obviously-Vampire, their clothes completely drenched with blood plus their fangs were showing, and some of the villagers who got squashed. The Headless Horseman materialized on one of the seats, his head tucked under one arm and their village clothes replaced by black armour. "So. Should we get down to business, then?" the head spoke in a slight echo. "You're a Dullahan. Though one who seems to be slacking off from the looks of things, apparently haven't killed anyone, that's part of your job pal." "You use your humor to disguise your fear." "On the contrary, I use my humor because it amuses me and annoys you. But yes, we should get to whatever your business with me is. So what does a Dullahan want with me?" The Dullahan's head gave him a glare and continued. "You're a Prime and you cannot well...die, exactly." "So I'm...where, then?" "Inbetween the place where those who aren't primes go where they die. That, however, does not matter. For starters, your vampire has been killed." He pointed a finger at the blood-soaked figure beside him, who merely gave a blank stare. "He was destined to die is the Tarrasque attack, so I stopped to collect the souls of those who died. Second, I attempted to collect yours in the hopes that you were just an especially powerful secondary, so you can leave. You will reappear at the Inn not soon after you disappeared. Now, go." The Dullahan waved their other hand at the door, and the Vampire got up and bolted for it. Alain summoned Sresveltr and almost went for the stab, but the Headless Horseman had conjured a whip that looked suspiciously like a human spine and bound them in it before he could go for the strike. "Farewell, Prime."

Alain landed on his head and almost got a concussion. "Oh, it's you." The Innkeeper "somehow" didn't sound happy to see him. "Not pleased to see me? "Not especially, no." "Well, Vampire's dead." The Innkeeper looked skeptical. "Where's the body?" Alain gave a shrug. "It's around. Also somewhere around the bloody house wreckage." "Ugh, whatever. We'll just try our luck I suppose. Guess you can...come along..." Clearly wasn't pleased with having to say that. "Yeah whatever. Let's go." The survivors of the Tarrasque and Alain walked to Darkshire, a few vampires appearing but reconsidering their attack when they saw a Prime, messing with the Dataverse or not. They weren't all complete idiots, in other words. Anyway, it didn't take long for them to arrive at Darkshire, likely due to how the villagers didn't move too far from it in the first place since they were going back after they rooted out the Vampire.
They arrived outside and waited for the guards to greet them instead of going straight in. That would end badly as Undead were all over the walls, carrying all kinds of weapons. It took a minute or two, but eventually some soldiers came to investigate their presence. "Hold, what's your business here?" "We want to enter Darkshire." The soldier opened his mouth to respond, but Alain continued. "The Vampire problem's been taken care of in case that's what you're about to ask about." "Oh. Well in that case, I suppose you can enter. Just don't cause any trouble, alright?" "Yeah, whatever." They followed the guards into Darkshire, and Alain glanced at the undead once more. This should be interesting.

[Alain the Carnedge]

Darkshire was even less pleasant than he originally imagined; the buildings looked like they'd collapse if he so much as kicked the walls. Nevertheless, he followed the guard down the street, the villagers following behind with nervous looks on their faces until they stopped in the middle of Darkshire. "So, what's your plan, Prime?" the guardsman asked, with a fleeting look of hope for a mere second. Alain had no intent of getting involved in the conflict, however, so he replied honestly. "Don't expect me to help you. Your problems are your own, I've fulfilled my end of our-" He pointed his thumb at the villagers over his shoulder. "-bargain, so I have no other business here. I'll likely stay a while, nothing better to do, but that's no reason to get your hopes up. Capiche?" Alain did a mocking salute at the soldier as they opened their mouth, then walking away into the alleys before they had a chance to speak.

Word likely spread about the Prime in the red cloak, as the guards decided not to speak to him after that. Glares were given but no assaults were made, probably because he would resurrect and they wouldn't. Or they just weren't that petty. Either way, he continued walking around Darkshire in the hopes of gaining more information about the Moors. Knowledge is power, blah blah blah. Of course, the citizens denied him any information that he didn't already know, such as pointing out it's a wasteland outside Darkshire, so he was forced to turn to the guards anyway. "Don't suppose there's any work to do? There was silence for a second as the guard tried to remember who he was. "I recall one of the fella's said you didn't want-" Alain waved his hand in their face. "Nah, shut up. I mean bounty work, I'm not a charity." The guard hesitated before speaking. "There's an old prison to the north used to trap some of the worst monsters in the Moors. Some vampires took residence there a while ago, and now some of those monsters are under their command." "Don't suppose that's where the Tarrasque was before it started wrecking people's houses?" The guard looked confused. "What gave you that idea? I doubt the entire prison made into one cell would've held that thing for very long. Though I guess it would be possible if the walls were made of something really strong. Doesn't matter, you going to-" Alain waved at him and turned around. "Yeah, make sure someone's waiting with my money when I get back."

He was about to walk outside when a guard stepped in his way. "Hold u-" Alain rolled his eyes and moved around him, using some Omnilium to summon a horse when Darkshire was barely in his vision anymore. He rode onwards whilst dragging his blade across the ground so he could find his way back, and sure enough: the prison was in sight. It was a crooked tower on the edge of collapse, enveloped by the mist; surrounded by nothing save a forest and the ever-present stench of death. He stopped outside of the forest and got off his horse, the sigils covering his cloak once more as he moved on foot. The forest was about as welcoming as he expected; meaning that there were an obnoxious amount of skeletons. Fortunately the Undead Legion didn't have any means of sensing him through his invisibility, so there was nothing to be worried about there, and he reached the door to the jail, which creaked as he opened it. The Legion's hearing clearly wasn't in the best shape, as they merely tilted their head in his general direction before continuing to stagger around the forest. So he continued on into the tower, not bothering to shut the door as he did so, since it decided to be nice and shut itself as he walked in. Great. Just great.

The darkness made it difficult for him to see where he was going, though not nearly as bad once his eyes had adjusted to it. Not that his lack of clear vision stopped him; he continued walking anyway. What was strange is that there were a significant amount of lights around the area that weren't lit not to mention there were no guards in the Prison itself. All was fine and well until he found the stairs-only they went down, not up. Intrigued, he continued down the stairs into a perfectly lit, and gigantic cell. There was nothing but the sound of chewing as the creatures devoured the corpses of the dead, reanimating them as skeletons when there was no flesh, only bones. Only they weren't Vampires; they were Lycanthropes. The guard had his ínformation all wrong, and they did have a way to see where he was: Their sense of smell.

[Alain the Carnedge]

The Werewolves practically flew across their cell at the smell of fresh meat, the reanimated skeletons merely standing there without orders from their masters; orders said masters could not give as their beastly nature had taken over what shreds of humanity they used to have. Alain disabled his invisibility since there's not much point to not being seen when your foes could smell you out like bloodhounds. He ran low across the stone floor, his blade shifting into the farming tool again; though it wasn't exactly harvesting wheat this time. The first group leapt into the air, ready to kill without a moment's hesitation, but the reaper's scythe had already cut through their bodies before they hit the ground. Of course, the few lycans that jumped were far outnumbered by the ones who just kept running, so their numbers were not only barely affected at all, but there was a wall of angry wolves that wanted to tear him to shreds. Alain jumped back to give himself some space, swinging the scythe to cut through multiple members of the horde at once, but it wasn't enough; they just kept coming. Eventually their extreme numbers started to overcome his power, the scythe getting stuck in one of the werebeast's bodies instead of cutting right through, which gave his friends the opportunity to claw at their foe. The slashes tore apart not only Alain's cloak but the skin underneath it, practically lighting his body on fire with the pain. But as they got the smell of blood, the werewolves started tearing at themselves in their bloodrage, their meat disappearing through a hole in their defenses. The Lycans annihilated themselves in their fury, the horde's numbers thinning within seconds as they ripped their own apart. The fight soon came down to five of the beasts, all shredding each other in a fury of claws and fangs until there was one who stood above the corpses of their brethren, their fur, skin, and bone scattered along the bloodsoaked floors of the prison. The wolf let loose a howl of victory or, perhaps, sorrow that echoed through the halls of the prison and went outside of the open doors, the skeleton legion outside raising their weapons in the triumphant call of their new master. The undead's bones and weapons then fell to the ground as the howl abruptly stopped, cut short by the crimson blade that had pierced their master's neck, the lycanthrope dropping to the floor with the last sight they saw being the sadistic grin of what used to be their prey.
And then, there were none.

Alain tore his blade out of the Werewolf's throat, took one of the torches from it's place on the wall, and begun walking back up the stairs to investigate more of the prison. The light was as helpful as expected, illuminating the dark room that was previously an issue. The stone of both the walls and floor were cracked everywhere, it was a miracle that the building was still standing, really. In any case, the ladder that led further up the tower was directly to the side of the door, likely to keep it from being discovered before the Werewolves were. Or maybe they were the actual problem and not vampires. He didn't really know or care, and he continued up the ladder anyway. As he climbed up the ladder he heard distinct snarling, the sound of a starving beast. Guess that's one of the monsters that were mentioned. Alain continued on, confident in his abilities as he was, though his confidence disappeared into nothing quickly when he looked up, just before he got to the next floor, and was greeted by a gigantic dog's head that ripped apart the hood of his cloak as he jumped off the ladder. The dog's drool covered what he was just climbing, covering it entirely in it's saliva. "Yeah, screw that." He mumbled to himself out of exasperation, moving for the entrance. I have a better plan.

He kicked the door open and walked outside into the forest of bones, the skeletal remains and weapons littered around the entire thing. Alain chose to ignore this and got ready to run, aiming for the top of the tower in hopes he could ignore whatever that dog thing was and whatever was above it. He sprinted at the wall and ran up, passing the gigantic hound's cell and others that he didn't care to look in. Running up the side of a tower and reaching the top wasn't exactly the easiest thing to do, however, though for someone with magic at their disposal, that was a different story. Well, here goes nothin!" Alain used his magic to double his speed for a split second. To someone who didn't have a clear view, it'd seem like he was teleporting, but no; he reappeared further up and disappeared again and again until he got to the end of the road, at which point he kicked off the wall and summoned Sresveltr in the scythe form, doing a half-front flip while swinging his blade overhead to smash it through the top floor's window. He held on despite the glass flying into his face and immediately started climbing his way up, his tool threatening to come loose at any second , which would send him plummeting to his death. Thankfully, it didn't, giving him a nice safe journey into the topmost room of the prison, which was actually pretty clean, at least compared to his expectations. The walls had held up well, there wasn't any blood nearby, the death stench was an ungodly amount of floors below, and, not to mention, that there was some pretty fancy victorian-era furniture that didn't exactly look common in the Moors, or most places for that matter. Alain, however, wasn't complaining. He immediately sat down on one of the chairs and recovered his breath, the sheer amount of times he "bursted" completely wearing him out, though maybe getting nearly ripped to pieces had something to do with that.

Either way, Alain eventually regained his composure and stood up to examine what he could, the completely out of place victorian furnishings being a deciding factor in his curiosity. It was the same reason that he was genuinely surprised that the place hadn't been ransacked yet, though that surprise faded very quickly once he remembered that anyone who wanted to get up there had to go through the Hundred Layers of Hell. He searched through the entire thing, and while he didn't find a diary as not everyone keeps one of those, he did find a record of what was jailed there. Guess this is the Warden's room. Man if he didn't spoil himself. He pocketed the records in hopes he could sell it to Darkshire, before taking a few minutes to envision and summon a parachute, then leaping out of the previously smashed window. Upon touching down, Alain collected a few of the skeletal warrior's bones as proof that the deed was done before walking back to his horse unimpeded, riding the steed back on the uneventful trip back to Darkshire. A guard approached him as he got closer, holding a small purse of what he assumed to be money. "I'm assuming that you're our new mercena-What the hell happened to your face!?" the guard exclaimed, stepping back. Alain's hand reached for his head and it got even more blood on it than it already had, which was almost impressive considering the adventure. "Don't worry about it. I just hope I'm still handsome." He grinned at the guard and did a mocking salute. Guess this is my new job. Could be worse, I guess.

[Alain the Carnedge]

Following what he guessed was standard procedure, Alain followed the guard back into Darkshire after taking his well-earned money. "Uh...sorry to spring this on you, but we've got another job for you to do...We were originally going to send it to the new Primes, but they've gone on a peacekeeping quest with the Paladin. [color] The guard spoke with admiration in his tone, but still looked like he was going to jump out of his skin if anything nearby so much as twitched, looking left and right at every corner until they had walked into an alley. "Go on, what happened in my absence, what's-your-face?" Alain inquired, cracking his fingers before his escort spoke up. "Alright, so a Manticore's found it's way into the town-" "The hell? How'd your skeleton army miss a giant lion-human-winged-dragon hybrid flying in from nowhere?"

The guard scowled at being interrupted, though was apparently smart enough to not attack or insult the Prime in front of him."Okay, sorry. It was a poor choice of words. More accurately, it was a pet for someone in the town that, upon reaching maturity, went on a killing spree. Even the undead aren't safe, it'll eat their bones, anything. Your job is to kill or subdue it, just prevent it from killing anyone else. Can we trust you to do this?" The cloaked one gave an audible sigh as he cleaned some of the blood off his face. "Sure. If you all die, who'm I going to get pay from? I don't need it's location by the way." The protector took a few steps back. "What? Why?" Then the guard fell face-first, poisonous spines through his back, Alain's face barely registering a hint of surprise. "...Because I have enough blood on me to attract anything with a sense of smell for a few miles." Three more spines came heading his way so he jumped over them, grabbed the guard's paralyzed figure and continuously bursted down the streets, the Manticore letting loose a furious roar that could be heard all over Darkshire at the loss of it's prey.

Alain dragged the guardsman into the streets and to one of his buddies. "W-what happened to him!?" They raised their crossbow and the cloaked one rolled his eyes like he dealt with this all the time. "You know, a lot of people are idiots when they panic. That includes you. I'm not going to casually walk over dragging a body through the street if I'm the murderer, genius. But anyway, it was the Manticore. This guy's only paralyzed if you lucky." Alain kicked him and the guy groaned in pain. "He's alive." The guardsman merely sighed out of either relief or exasperation, though they did look like Christmas was canceled, which led to believe the guy wasn't popular. Well, isn't my problem. "Are there any open areas around with no civilians? I need to take care of the unwelcome guest, and while they might be useful as meatshields, I'll probably get paid less for using them for such a thing." The guard took a few deep breaths, then gave his directions very slowly as if he was talking to a child. "Go straight ahead and turn the corner. Go through the alley and turn right. There's an open area there near the uh, gambling ring. Just hurry up and deal with it, I'm going to have fun on my night off." Alain shrugged in his indifference and started to run, making sure to swipe the other man's crossbow as he ran past. "You can have it back later, dickhead."

[Alain the Carnedge]

Alain sprinted through the alley, leaping over the few beggars, and probably pickpockets, in his path with relative ease. Landing on his feet at the nearby turn, he followed the guard's instructions and moved to take a right, but a gloved hand outstretched from the left, grabbing his wrist and pulling him away before he could take another step.

The figure was surprisingly strong, dragging him through the streets with one hand without any visible strain. Though the red glow in the corner of their eye made them stop to turn around, greeted by the crimson sword at their throat and the sadistic smile of their "attacker". "I'd really rather not be interrupted while on a job, so talk fast and, oh hell, I'm in a good mood so I might even let you live." Alain spoke with a tone of mild annoyance instead of anger, but the figure, now evidently a woman now that he could see their face, stepped back out of terror anyway. The woman had black hair and steel armor that wouldn't look out of place on a medieval knight, if only it didn't have dirt and mud all over it, as did both her face and hair. She was also carrying what looked like the crushed remains of a helmet in her other hand, which also lacked gauntlets. "P-please, hear me out." The woman said, sounding more like a dying puppy than a knight.

Alain sighed after a quick analysis of her "danger level", and while he didn't have any special power to do so, she didn't appear to be a threat to him so Sresveltr disappeared as he put his hands in his pockets. "Make it quick." The knight hastily did a formal bow and introduced themselves like they were a new student at a new school. "My name is Maria. You're the new mercenary around here, correct? I last did that job with a couple of friends, until we got a request from some villagers outside Darkshire, asking us to save them from the Tarrasque, that building-sized monstrosity that's been ravaging the nearby towns." Alain shrugged and leaned on the nearby wall, tossing the stolen crossbow up and down. "Oh yeah, that thing. It hates buildings and that's all I've gathered about it...oh, but do go on." Maria sighed and continued to tell her life's story, apparently unfazed at being interrupted. "Well, me and a few of my friends went to go kill it. I like to think we were good at our jobs, but...it annihilated us. We didn't even injure it before it wiped most of us out, and the survivors of my team was so demoralized after that that they quit their mercenary work. So, now everyone's dead and I can't take on that...monstrosity to avenge them. Could you, perhaps, do it in my stead? I'll pay you everything I have in return for avenging my comrades...What do you say, hm?" I had planned to kill it for giggles anyway, so this is great. "Alright, can do. But I'm only doing it after I take out this Manticore, I accepted that job first and I'll take care of yours when I see the Tarrawhatever again." He bursted off before she could respond, running and skidding to a halt into the area which was soon to be his battleground. The bright light of the sword's summoning briefly illuminated the area, the red, metallic looking blade suddenly turning into blood that simply dropped to the ground, coating it in the fresh life-fluid that used to be a weapon. There was but a minute of silence before there was the distinct sound of a Manticore's roaring, and he raised the stolen crossbow in anticipation for his foe. This is about to get good.

[Alain the Carnedge]

Manticore flew up in the air at the scent of blood, letting out an enraged snarl before descending on the meat that had escaped it before. Alain prepared his blade...or at least tried to, which is the point he realized that perhaps having his weapon turn to liquid wasn't the greatest of ideas. "Great. Guess I'll have to improvise." He muttered, slightly annoyed. The Manticore screeched as it flew down, it's claws tearing through the ground when Alain sidestepped it. He raised the crossbow and fired it straight into the man-eater's back, the bolt bouncing off it's hide harmlessly. And this is why I hate having to deal with things before figuring out how to deal with it. The hybrid shot spines from his tail, but Alain leapt into the air and memorized where the spines hit, and the Manticore took the opportunity to leap and hit him in the face. The red rider grunted, flipping to his feet before tearing a spine out of the nearby wall, throwing the crossbow at the monster as a distraction. The manticore leapt over the crossbow and flew at him, furiously growling as it did so. Alain's response was to throw the spine into it's maw like a throwing knife, the improvised weapon striking true and piercing the flesh inside the creature's mouth, making it drop to the ground as the poison worked it's magic. The creature lunged and attacked in a furious frenzy, slashing and biting wildly in hopes that it could finally put down it's foe before it's own venom sealed it's fate. Unfortunately for the manticore, the poison worked fast enough that it had slowed it's movements enough for Alain to dodge, though even with the paralysis it still was fast enough to land a few swipes that tore through his skin. Three seconds. The slashes continued, each strike becoming more and more inaccurate and slow to the point where dodging them was almost trivial, until Alain's hand lit up with crimson just as the Manticore roared with anger, staving off the poison in hopes that it could end this one, impudent being once and for all. The Manticore's rage overcame it's coming paralysis, it's strikes now becoming faster instead of slower, though the cloaked one's blade was fast as well, able to block the attacks that he could not dodge until the monster flew up into the air, raining down it's toxic spines. Alain bursted past the spines before they pierced the ground, his newfound speed confusing the creature just long enough for him to jump up and stab a hole straight through it's wings. The hybrid screeched in pain as it dropped, flapping it's wings in a feeble attempt to try flying again. The cloaked one landed on his feet though the monster wasn't so lucky, slamming into the ground with it's screech of pain louder than the sound of it's body hitting the floor. However, the hybrid persisted in it's efforts, getting up with a pained snarl. The two stood across from each other, sizing up their foe before making one last sprint, both going for the killing blow.

[Inlumia]

_______________________________________________________

Near Darkshire a loud screech was heard and looking up a manticore was spotted diving towards the ground, flinging spiked before it.
Inlumia to the guards, "Please excuse me. I have a bit of business to attend to."

He had Wildia fly up, and get what sun there was behind them and Darkshire. Wildia had her hooves aflame to held hide them even more.
Looking down they saw a fight between a manticore and red clad figure.
While the 2 on the ground sparred, Inlumia drew his sword and Wildia charged
As they neared the fight, Inlumia jumped from Wildia's back, and jumped hellfire encased feet first at the manticore's head, with his sword ready to stab straight down. Wildia aimed at it's body, with her teeth aiming for low on it's neck

Impact was . . . messy, and the manticore's body was splattered everywhere.

Inlumia nodded to the other man and said "Sorry about ruining your fun, but I figured it was the best way to prevent bystanders being hurt."

[Alain the Carnedge]

Alain had a firm grip on his blade, dragging it across the ground as he ran. The Manticore sprinted at him, flinging spines that he narrowly dodged, some of them tearing holes through his cloak and hitting the walls behind. None of them hit skin though, so running through wasn't that hard, he just had to run low and dodge the lucky shots. Coming to a quick halt when the monster was about to jump, he readied the next strike to be the killing blow. He knew he outclassed the Manticore in melee combat, but it didn't know enough to figure that out. The only way he thought that he could lose the duel is if there was outside interference, since he could close the distance easily and decimate the creature in close combat. Confident in his chances, each move of the creature was predicted and reacted to flawlessly, and this was no exception. Moving to hit it with the fatal strike, he sidestepped the leap, and while his peripheral vision was blocked by his cloak, he'd predicted where it would go and reacted accordingly, stabbing at where he assumed it's neck would be. But the manticore was no longer there, disappearing it was just a figment of his imagination.

"Huh?" He muttered, utterly bewildered. It didn't evade him, he knew that much. Even a manticore wasn't fast enough to dodge in mid-air, especially not with holes in it's wings. He looked around, completely confused, for a few seconds of silence, until... "S-" Alain immediately turned around, stopped listening, and sized up the man in case he was a potential threat. While his new partner in the manticore hunting business only had a normal Katana, the black horse that was apparently his companion had glowing red eyes and looked so blatantly evil it made Alain want to hit himself. Not like he had any right to complain, mind you. He also strongly suspected that his new "friend" was proficient in magic, as he could see flames dying out from their boots. The guy'd seem like just another man in the crowd to a normal person, and they'd just move on without a care in the world, but someone so experienced in combat with clothes that blended in so well just came across as a guy with something to hide to the mercenary.

Nevertheless, Sresveltr disappeared, as perhaps making a new friend wasn't the worst thing in the world. Ignoring the mutilated manticore, he spoke calmly. "Oh, no worries. But where are my manners? I'm...ah, Velgr." Alain faked a grin at his new pal, a grin that came off as so eerie that a paranoid person would assume that the man before them is planning to kill them with minimal effort. Though, that person might've been right.

[Inlumia]

Hearing the other guy's introduction Inlumia raised an eyebrow slightly. "Well, Velgr, I go by the name Inlumia these centuries."
Holding out his hand he let the other man approach and cautiously shake it.
Inlumia said in a low voice so it would not carry far, "Word of advise, If you are going to use a fake name, be sure you don't seem to have trouble remembering it. If you want to leave your old life behind, you probably have reasons that are none of my business, so I won't ask."
'Velgr' eyes widdened slightly, but he made no comment.
Inlumia spoke in a more normal tone of voice "I saw some of the fighting before I crashed your fun. You have skill, I admit. If you are a mercenary or bounty hunter, I think I might know some people willing to let you work as a subcontractor of their. Assassinations are not off the table, but only for Evil targets."
Shrugging he added, "That's how followers of Nulal go, and it helps stop local authorities hunting them so much."
Velgr seemed to be trying to figure out how to respond to all this.

Inlumia told him, "Just think about my offer. I'll be seeing the mayor soon about trying to be released from my debt to Darkshire."
Smiling Inlumia added, "But first a bit of profit."
Inlumia went to the manticore's tail and started to carefully harvest the spikes still on it.
As Wildia was a bit hungry Inlumia just cut the tail off so she wouldn't jerk it while he was securing the spiked.
He gathered up all the spikes he could and used his Omnilium to make a small container for them. Manticore spikes that still had their venom could be worth a fair bit. Might help to get Boone more willing to agree to negotiations with him.
Looking around he noticed Velgr was looking around for used spikes as well. He had probably gotten the same idea.

[Alain the Carnedge]

Damn it.

This guy was smarter than he anticipated. Though that probably had to do with the split second he had to think of an alias, he wasn't exactly subtle about what he was doing. Either way, the guy knew Velgr was a fake name...or at least, mostly fake name.

Speaking in a normal tone of voice that didn't leave any hint of his brief surprise, he added to the conversation. "Whatever. I mainly work as an information broker and mercenary. Not exactly picky about my clients. I'd speak with you more, but I've gotta go collect my pay..."

He tore a manticore spine out of a nearby and pocketed it, then adding "...and probably get another job. So I guess I'll see ya around, Inlumia...unless you've got something for me to do. Otherwise, I'm heading off." Alain tossed him one of the spines before he started walking away, stopping and giving "Lumia" a glance before he got out of earshot.

[Inlumia]

Inlumia called out to the merc, "Hold on, I may have work for you!"
Getting up he walked over the the cloaked figure. "If you are ever in Dalaran, swing by the slums and visit the Dark Mage Guild's hospital. It is totally legit. Ask the people there for someone called Vulus if you are looking for work. Don't worry, they will check out your credentials as soon as you ask for Vulus."
Inlumia grinned a bit wickedly. "I should know, since I am the founder and head of that guild, and the contractors I mentioned. If they don't have work available, they can direct you to a few others who might be interested. A merc does provide such nice things like plausable deniability for their own agents."
Adding steel to his voice "Just remember, if you work as a subcontractor for them they will expect you to abide by the same rule against killing innocent people. Right now the guards don't really care about hunting them. Break the rule and they will hunt you down to stop the guards coming after them"
Turning to leave he added, almost as an after thought, "Oh, you may wish to avoid causing any trouble in the entertainment district there; it's controlled by a good friend of mine who does not hesitate to personnally take out Primes when they cross the line with her. By that I mean banishment."

By then the guards had arrived and Inlumia went away with some, heading to Boones office. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Valgr being handed a small money pouch and chuckled slightly. He told the guards around him, "I guess someone forgot to finalize all the details before agreeing to some work."
The guards smiled a bit.

[Alain the Carnedge]

Alain sprinted down the streets to grab his money, not stopping until he swiped his prize out of the guard's hand's before he could protest. "Appreciated. I'll just be on my way now." He idly waved and calmly walked out of the gates of Darkshire, whistling as he begun his search for something to do...or perhaps, kill. He didn't bother summoning a horse, bike, or any vehicle, really, as he hoped that some adventure'd come regardless.