Wounds of War

Virg woke up in the dainty Matisian apartment to a thumping echoing through his head. 'By the love of Melkiar how much did I drink last night', he wondered. Virg paused for a second and quickly realised the thumping was not in his head but actually coming from the apartment door. He scanned around for Elvanae but it seemed she had left earlier that morning. Funny he mused, she usually sleeps in till midday!

An aggressive whiny high pitched matis voice shouted through the door, "We know you are in there Virg O'zin! Come out with your hands up and all weapons on the floor".

Virg hopped out of bed and looked down chucking to himself, 'Well there is one weapon that will never reach the floor!' He strode across the apartment gathering his armour. An izam fluttered through the window and upon seeing the letter was covered in rum stains, he knew immediately only one Trykerette could have sent it. He crossed the apartment to the window, took the letter and briefly read it. He put the letter down, ignoring the increasingly loud thumps coming from the door, and decided to respond:

Dearest Binarabi,

I could not agree more that the Kami are becoming increasingly blood thirsty. A trait I somewhat admire, except for the false ignorance when they claim they are anything but bloodthirsty. A kirosta is still a kirosta, no matter what sort of illegally stolen Kami skirt you put it in. Homins will unite one day, under us. I plan on creating a unified nation built on the blood of those who would see the Kitins swarm and kill us all. They are the real homins whose crimes against Atys will not go unpunished.

Freedom is coming, as is probably a reply from the white pasty one later on.


Virg attached the letter to the izam and threw it out the window. He began putting his trousers on when a loud crash resonated through the apartment. Groaning inwardly he stuffed the rest of his armour into the bag, flipped it onto his back and ran towards the window, picking his daggers up off the table. He stumbled somewhat as he tripped up over his half done up trousers, and with the grace of an overweight bodoc, fell headfirst out of the window. Twisting around he stabbed his daggers into the beautifully carved tree trunk, grinning slightly as he knew the Matisians would hate the scratches, and quickly worked his way around the trunk, moving out of sight of the window.

He waited for several minutes until he was sure the guards had thought him gone, and began climbing down the trunk. Along the way he froze as he saw a small Trykerette poke her head up out of a nearby window. Her hair was disheveled, her face covered in grime and she was wearing a headband made out of refugee rags. In a fraction of a second though she was gone. Virg looked at the window confused, slavery was abolished- he really must have had a lot to drink last night to imagine that. He climbed the rest of the way down and quietly slipped outside the city.



Guild Leader of Syndicate

Syndicate's Page (Shuriiken here)
A glimpse into Virg's life
Thug life

I belong to the warrior in whom the old ways have joined the new
NB: Void respawn is where you can find the PVP, also willing to give lessons :)
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Last visit sábado 20 julio 22:20:01 UTC

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