Recent content by Diaz

The shadow form which Diaz wreathed himself in plumed and billowed like a mantle of smoke, set to stir as the entity in Viego's skin walked through him. A grin cut across the assassin's lips, and his mismatched eyes watched the thing walk down into the shadows. "Somewhere below," Diaz spat...

It was not the words that brought him back. Nor the mother's touch, pulling his soul out of the sinister darkness of a heretic. It was his laugh. The arogance. How it mixed with all the stench of fear and death. It was the smell of the pits. The sound of the other assassins, day in and day...

The eyes that peered out from the shadows narrowed. Though no words came from the shade as it inked across the stone walls, round the flames' glow. The young man, still just out of sight, crept some steps back down the stairs. Away from the two killers. Away from the escaped prisoners. Right...

The serpent recoiled from its strike. Bared its fangs, and slithered to make away. Come the clap. Teeth bared, came to snap round long body. Crushed scales. Ripped and shook wild about the kin. So too the snake turned to shade. Bled and swirled into scentless curls of obscurity. A laugh...

Like a cloak drawn around him, Diaz enveloped himself in shadows. Form, without bounds, the edges of his self merged with every thread of darkness that wove about the room. Grew darker still as the fire died out, and the blood continued to spill. But a pair of eyes, adrift in the lightless...

One cut. One life. The magic shadow ripped through bone and flesh with practiced ease. The umbral blade flickered and snapped, as if a thing made of abyssal flame. The two parts of the man that had stood before him, fell away. torso smacked to the ground, clumsy, legs fell forward. Both halves...

Imbued with its own well of darkness, Diaz' blade was almost a familiar in its own right. An object borne with the Mother's gift, made so with the blood of all it felled, and all the shadow it was asked to drink. Still, it could but hold against the pointed legs of Rincon's assault. One...

A click of teeth. A snarl. A huff and Diaz left the chapel before the procession started to pour out of the service. Face set into his perpetual scowl as he walked. He wished someone would ask him where he was going. If only to let the anger out. Fuck it. What did it matter. They would give...

Get up. A growl, a twist of hips and kick of both legs, Diaz was up, his sword still in hand as he stood at Sol's back. "His shadow," he said, eyes instinctively darting as his sword came up. Something spat from the domed walls. Above them. Behind them. In front of them. Silken spears of...

Down came the black marble hand of the daughter. Down went the necklace, sent to skate toward the dead and twisted lamb. Two headed beast lay lifeless as the marble arm crashed and the assassin blessed by Fox's Luck followed after. Rincon but watched, eyes wide and attentive. Diaz growled...

Diaz cast his eyes about, as they stood before the shadowed altar. His hand twitched to the sword at his hip as a chill ran up his spine. He did not hear Solitude's question. Did not see the moonbeam necklace. Only felt the darkness swirl about him. Felt the pull of strings against his skin...

Out came his shadow. His twin. Two swords in hand. With quick cuts, the magicked blades sliced through the old iron chains. Diego fell to the cold stone, and looked wearily to the other assassin before him. Rubbed the hurt out of his wrists, where blood turned to dark sticky scab, and he drew...

Let's stay together. Diaz snarled. A rumble shook the chords of his throat. Why would he stay with her? If she was scared. If she was weak- A pang from his shadowkin. A weight that held him back. Urged him closer to her. He growled. "Sure," he agreed. Still, they walked through the...

Heel fall, after heel fall. Father Lament's march went on. The clip, clip, clip of each stride sure as the last. His eyes never looked to the young assassins under his purvey. "We are but blades, come to sheer the wool," his long teeth gleamed. Pointed and hungry. "Let the blind see, Rincon...

Free City of Harkoth, South Western tip of Sheketh, at the mouth of the Ixchel Strait Tall were the pillars that stood about them. The arches spread wide and sturdy across a span of ground that they had been told was consecrated. Protected by the Mother. Protected by the shadows of her...