Narkov Snow/ Bori Ilim. (Wip)

Ooc info {some would suggest not working on this anymore, but i just find it to much fun]
Account: Vaurature
Age: 15

IC:
Name: Narkovski Ventrisio Snow.
Age: 21
Race: Human/Kajhiit?, Fur contained to a mane going down the length of his spine.
Personality: Cocky, Arrogant, also known to be hotheaded when angry. A Flirt. Stubborn. A people pleaser.
Kills: 0 (damned server rules, you make me so useless)
Physical description:
Light skinned, Very slim, {new>} light brown hair, dark purple eyes, Wearing a crimson Scarf/cape that covers his lower face. Wearing the traditional dark garments of an assassin from his land.

[old >] always wearing his goggles when not asleep, Hiding his dark purple eyes from view. His suit consists of three pieces, the overcoat, which is to cover his chain armor, His chainmail chest cover, and his undersuit, of which only the pants show, but which is made of silk fabric woven with cloth. All of his clothing is in the color of an initiate of a swords school along with a tabard that covers his lower body somewhat.

Background story:
Born of Vaurature Ventris the 1st, and a Household Maid, Narkovski was always made fun of, until he killed a boy for laughing at him. Never the most popular boy, being the bastard of a lord and all, He grew up ready to kill whoever whenever. But with the girls of his town, he might as well have been a saint. Still, the small town pleasantries ran out for him about when he turned 17, and Vaur turned 14. This was also the night when Vaur snuck out of town with a group of his friends, armed only with a pair of daggers.
All was well for a while, But then the howling of the wolves grew louder and louder, and his father beating on the door increased in rapidity. But Narkov had other ideas, some of which he and his "companion" were putting into action at that moment. Finally his father broke the door down and yelled "Get up Now. Your brother needs you."
"what for?" Replied Narkov.
"He's gone missing, and the wolves are on the hunt as we speak. now get dressed and go find him."
"What!" Snow rushes for his Knife belt. "What the hell has he done this time."
"Him and a few of his friends have gone missing. I expect you'll find him By following the wolves"
Snow finishes pulling on his clothes, forgetting his chain shirt, and leaps out of his window. Falling into a pile of his namesake. Climbing from the pile he follows the howling, until it becomes whimpering, stopping to listen to the change. "What the Hell?" He rushes forward, knives held at the ready.
As he enters a clearing, the first sight he takes in is the wolves all dead in a semi circle around a cluster of Children. "wha....." realizes that they are surrounding Vaur, who is on the ground, bleeding from scars all across his body. Shoves the kids out of the way and lifts Vaur up, looking at the others and wondering why they hadn't already done so. Then he realised that Vaur was the only one with any sort of scratch, or wound. *could he realy have killed everyone of those wolves before they hurt anyone else?*
The children start talking silently, "He saved us all...." "How did he do that" "h-h-h-how..."

The blade flew true, striking the beast in the left eye, on the iris. It falls and flails about blindly. The thrust of a blade is enough to end it's life. "Oh but for harder prey to kill." Snow exclaimed. Turning from his latest kill, he saw and older man wearing a scarf covering his face. "Yes old one?"
"Treat me with more respect youngling, or i'll take the part of your death."
"Excuse me?"
"Nevermind.....You look like the kind of person my guild wants."
"Which Guild would want a bastard of a local lord?"
"The obviously hidden one, one that many a lord has tried to stop, and the one that many a lord has fallen to."
"Assassin?" Snow asked warily, sliding his hand to the knife sheathed in his boot.
"Ofcourse. The only thing required to join our guild is to partake in 'The Hunt', which is a series of trials, or Targets you need to kill."
"Would i know any of the targets on the list?"
"In name only, we make it easier for our new recruits by giving them targets not related to them, or in towns nearby."
"Interesting, And who might the first target on said list be?"
"You'll find your target's name in a church not to far from here."
"And if i kill him? How would you know?" Snow looks away from the man and stares at the beast.
"We ask that you leave some form of unusual item on the corpse."
"I assume you would want like a rose to be found with their arms wrapped around it?"
"Interesting choice....Most just offer to bring us a finger or something. But you chose to leave a flower?"
"I'm not like your normal recruits then.."
Snow turns around to look at the old man, find that he is gone. "Guess i might aswell go check on this person he wants dead." Without a second thought Snow looks for the old church, the one he knew he passed by to get the beast. Finding it, he starts searching for any sign of the targets name. "Twenty minutes of searching, and still nothing?" Snow sighed. "Where in hell did they hide it?" Snow looks up at the crumbling roof and sees a name written on the roof. "Well i'll be damned.... Orlan Phalanx? Gourin's Haven? Name and place?"

Multiple days later.

Snow saunters into the town, in the garments of a traditional assassin. Though normally suspicious, he was hidden in the crowds of revelers, some of whom dressed in the same ancient garments as him. As he pushes his way through the crowds, he looks into and alley and sees some men gathered around someone on the ground. "It's none of my business" Snow mutters, but still walks into the alley as if he was injured in the left leg, slowly sliding his knife from it's sheathe. One of the men turns to see him and nudges another into awareness. "W-w-who the h-h-hell ar-re you?" the man stutters.
"I would ask you the same"
"This is our alley, so fuck off."
Snow looks at the person on the floor to find it a girl no older than seventeen, her arms bound behind her back. "What the hell are you doing with her?" His knife is hidden in his hand, ready to be thrown into the mans throat.
"She's our entertainment for the night, And no you can't join" The man states as the girl's eyes get wide with fear.
Snow remains silent for a few seconds, then the knife flies from his hand into the mans throat, his other hand grabbing a punch thrown at him and snapping the mans wrist. Snow ducks and kicks the man still standing in the knee, shattering it. The man with the now broken wrist tries to run, but Snow casually picks up a bottle and throws it at his head, knocking him out and making him fall face first on a pile of broken glass. All of this occurs within seconds of the knife thrown into the mans throat.
Snow walks over to the girl and slices the bonds on her wrist, and then the gag. He helps her up and starts to walk off before she hugs him. "Don't go please, there's one more of them." she begged, clearly frightened. Snow nods and gets his knife from the mans throat, wiping it off on his cloak. "Don't worry Miss, so long as I'm here you're safe."
"Do you truly mean that? To a stranger that you've never met?"
"Why shouldn't i? And speaking of which, What is your name?"
"Ligea, Ligea Phalanx, and you are?"
"............ Phalanx? Any relation to Orlan?"
"He's my father...How did you know his name?"
"Lucky guess, I'm Snow by the way." He extends his hand, waiting for her to take it before he leads her to a safer place. When he is certain they aren't being followed, he leads her to his small residence in the city. "So is there anyreason someone might want to kill your father?"
"Not really, he tries to keep his name out of anything that would ruin his reputation. Thats why they were going to rape me if it matters. To get at him. Now please tell me why one dressed like you might ask such a question?"
"I would, but then..... I couldn't." He frowns, his face hidden from view by the habitual scarf/cape he always wears.t's his profession isn't it?"
"What does he do?"
"He's an alchemist, one close to the solution."
"Solution?"
"The elixir of life."
"truly? This is no jest?"
"Why would it be?"
Snow sighs. "This would be why they wanted me......"
"Who wanted you? Why are you here? To kill my father?"
Snow looks at her and shrugs. "I don't know what I'm here for anymore, To test my Will? To test my personality? or simply yo kill..." He watches as she gasps at his open honesty. "so surprised?"
"You are honest atleast.... But will you go through with it?" She looks him in the eyes.
Snow looks away quickly, trying not to make eye contact with her. "Please stop.... I'm conflicted enough without you throwing a log on the pile.."
"You are quite an interesting person Snow."
"................" Snow is silent, wishing he had just walked past the alley now. Snow takes off his knife belt and throws it on his bed. "Oh if you only knew."
"Knew what?"
"The half of what i've done in my years." Snow looks down on her, being just taller than her. She reaches her hand up to his scarf, to pull it off, but he grabs it. "You don't want to do that." Snow lets go of the hand and turns to the opposite side of the room. Ligea walks around him so that he can see her once again. Snow can't help but look her up and down muttering "Damned woman..Damned fine woman.." She reaches up to pull the scarf off once again. He doesn't stop her. He wraps his arms around her waist and moves as to kiss her stopping just short of kissing her. "It would be so easy, Oh so very easy to fall. And damn, but i wish i would." He lets go of her waist and wraps the scarf back around his face, picking up his knife-belt as well.
"Oh how noble, or how cowardice, of you Snow. Are you going to kill him then? Kill any chance you had with me?"
"That's the plan. It wouldn't have worked anyways my dear, so don't kid yourself."

Five hours later-Dusk
Snow, now clad in all black, rushes along the tops of the houses near the Phalanx estate. He looks down and see's the people of the town watching him with fear in their eyes. As he jumps from roof to roof, he notices that there is a guard watching him from the wall, his crossbow aimed. Pulling the knife from it's sheathe and kissing it for luck, he flings it at the guards throat, hitting it, if only just. The last roof looms ever closer, the last leap that will hopefully take him over the wall and ever closer to Orlan Phalanx. As the roof finally arrives, and he takes one last leap he knows that someone up there was watching him, for better or worse.
Snow lands on the wall, just inches from falling off into the street. "Holy....." He looks up at the house of Orlan Phalanx, Wondering what happened to his daughter after he left her. "doesn't matter." He leaps from the wall, breaking through the lower window of the house just as the noise heightened inside the house. Snow looks around the room, seeing sculptures, and the uniforms of many assassins, looking back at him. "Looks like I'm not the first, but I shall be the last" He slides out one of his knifes, and picks the lock with the blade. He considers opening it quietly, but then kicks it down just for the hell of it.
The guards on the other side died within seconds of one another, knives through their necks. The guests looked at this very real interpretation of death, and they got out of the way, or they died. "Where is Orlan Phalanx? Tell me and no more die!" Snow shouted to be heard. The door on the far side of the room opened, letting a group of heavily armored men into the room. "Not my lucky day is it" Snow mutters, sliding a vial of poison out of a pouch, and throwing it into the group of guards. "Not yours either though" He grins as they all fall clutching their throats. He walks through the crowd, his steps unheard in the noiseless room.
Snow walks through the now open door, seeing none that dared oppose him. "Where is he?" he asked the closest guard. The guard just nodded up the stairs at the far end of the room. Snow pushed him to the ground, amazed at their weakness. "None of you is even a proper warrior. By the gods, Your employer was wasting his money on cowards." A sound is heard from the stairway. Snow motions for the guards to leave, which they do quite happily.
"So the guards are worthless? That's a shame. I was quite hoping they would work for their pay." Came a familiar voice down the stairs. "If you want something done, i guess you must really do it on your own."
"Miss just tell me where your father is." The lights in the room go out in a sudden draft. A shape walks towards him, clearly Ligea. Snow tries to walk past her, but every time he tries she moves in front of him again. "Miss, I'm not all to picky about forcing anyone out of my way." He lifts her by her arm moves her to the side, walking to the stairs.
"You have no soul Snow. Your not even human." Snow turns and slaps her, his eyes shining purple. "I've killed people for less." He turns back to the stairs and walks away, instantly regretting slapping her. He hears a thud seconds later, accompanied by a sob. "Damn woman..." Snow mutters to himself, turning back from the stairs and kneeling next to her. "You are a very complex girl Ligea. And by god, if you weren't my targets daughter.... But you are, and i am getting the job done."
Snow gets back up and walks up the stairs, a blade in one hand, a vial of poison in the other. When he reaches the top of , the stairs, he kicks the door at the top in, splintering the wood. "Death has come, and woe betide those who try to stop me." The guards in the room, all wearing heavy armor, stepped back. "Good boys." Snow walks past them. The next door swings open of it's own, the man behind it furious. "Kill him damnit!"
Snow chuckles, throwing the poison at the now animated troops, while the other hand throws the knife at who must be Orlan. "I've got hundreds of problems, but your guards aren't one. Now come and face death like a man."

Two days later.

Snow watches the procession at the funeral, looking at the closed casket with a smile.

And with that the story of Snow is done! On to Bori Ilim.

Name: Bori Ilim.
Age: 20
Race: Human
Personality: Easy to anger, hard to calm. Silent when not spoken to, normally just to women.
Physical description: In a suit of Armor, that seemingly molds to fit him, with a Greatsword slung on his back. Light blue eyes, dark brown hair.

Small Backstory:

Bori watches as the slavers approach his village, thinking nothing of it. He goes back to practicing with his fathers sword, which to him was a greatsword, though normally a shortsword. The target of the night was a scarecrow that he had made that evening.
"Fire!! Fire on the Wall!" was heard throughout the town. The sentry was dead moments later, an arrow sticking from his chest. "Defenders Rally!" The town militia rushed to the center of town, ready to fight to the last. The slavers however came on horseback, and it was a slaughter. The militia was demolished by the force of the attack, and the slavers took the women, children and those to old to fight to their camp.

3 Years later.

Bori, now 16, has grown bigger with the years, now one of the strongest in the camp. The slavers had made him and the rest of the men from his village carry stones, from the quarry to the supply pit, close to a mile away. He had spoken to one of the blacksmiths over a month ago, about bringing him a little extra metal a day if he would forge him a Greatsword. The signal had been recieved from him that he was done. He was just about to leave with the sword when a slaver stopped him.
Bori slid the sword out and lopped his head off. "Freedom!" He sprinted for the nearest slaver, his blade ready to shed blood for the second time. "I will kill you all. None Shall be Spared My Wrath" He hit the slaver with the force of a cannonball, crushing him against the wooden wall he was infront of. A group of slavers ran towards him, with swords and shields at the ready. The lead slaver tripped, and the entire group followed him to the floor. A group of slaves ran out and beat them mercilessly.

2.5 hours later.

Bori is standing his ground at the gate, holding the slavers back as the others all escape. As the final slave disappears in the forest behind him, he collapses, exhausted at fighting for so long. The slavers run up to him and start kicking his ribs, determined to make him pay for freeing all of the other slaves. "Take him to the pit."

[to be continued]

Days after his recapture. (from last story)

Bori is smirking, in tremendous amounts of pain, but nonetheless smirking as his captors die one by one. "I told you i would watch you die" he spat at the slavers corpses. The next blade cut the bindings on Bori's wrist, which was at that point the only thing holding him up. He fell, landing on his feet. "Thank ye kindly stranger, Now wheres my sword?" The stranger shrugged throwing a strange amulet to him. "I know not.. You might try in their armory though. Wear this, it is part of my job to give it to you. It allows me to make sure nothing bad happens to you, and vice versa."
Bori nods and walks off to the armory, the slavers to afraid of him to make a move towards him. Those that did fell over after the first step, a blade in their neck. He reaches the armory and takes the sword, forged from steel that was originally for the slavers customers. The armor next to it is new though, freshly made, and runic. He takes that as well, putting it on piece by piece, taking the mask part of the helmet and looking at it. "Angelic. Quite the craftsmanship." He slides it on taking back sheath for his sword. His voice takes on a heavier tone "Let none survive my wrath." He walks out of the armory, heavily.
The closest slaver watches him, fear in his eyes. He kneels down to pray, getting one word out before Bori lops his head off. "Behold, Death has come for you, and not even the gods can save you from me."

-Camp number 6 of 21-

The look out watches as the figure approaches, the seemingly invincible figure in shining armor. He didn't have to wait long for death to come, The figure slices him in two. The figure keeps walking, the slaves around him rejoicing, and the slavers crumbling with fear. The slaver captain walks out, as big as the shining figure. "Any last words, Angel?"
"You are all......." Bori is unable to speak any more. *What sorcery is this?* He tries to get into a fighting stance with his sword, but finds himself unable to move. He begins to feel another presence in his mind, *need any help?*
Bori remains as he is, able to move finally after help from his amulet. *you best kill that mage fast, before she realizes that you aren't her puppet anymore.* He stays there, waiting for the leader to walk closer to him, ready to kill him in a single blow. "Not so tough now are you angel?" The slaver is within a few steps now, just in strike distance.
Bori swings out, cutting the slavers head from his shoulders. "You have no power over me witch." He looks about for a tent that is out of the way, finding it quickly. The slavers in the direction of the tent move back from it like it's a ball of fire. Bori sprints at it, his sword at the ready. The Witch came out of the tent, smiling."You think to kill me? And what if i could give you everything you've ever wanted?" His face remains set as he roars "What do you think i would ever want? Money? Power? I've no need for either." He swings the blade, aiming to slice off her head, but only succeeding is activating a ward she placed around herself. He swings again, but the ward holds, and again and again. "You think such a simple weapon as that can kill me?" Bori drops the sword and punches her in the face, the ward not reading it as deadly. She falls over, and he puts his foot on her chest, "Yes i do." He swings, the ward finally broken. A shrill scream is heard as the blade swings down, slicing her head off.

-Camp 21 of 21-

The camp's gates were opened, as Bori walked towards it. He felt a familiar mind in his head. "Hello Snow." *This is most definitely a trap you know.* "It's very insulting to me as well. The cowards have to fight dirty to even have a chance." *This is unlucky number 21, isn't it?* Bori looks down at the helm in his hands. "This is going to be exciting..." *if you survive, you're still welcome to come live with me in Betelguese.* "I might." He walks away from the camp, hiding in a clearing not to far away.

-2 days later-

Bori watches as the slavers cringe with fear at every snap of a twig, or hoot of an owl. He steps out of the bushes, his armor shining bright in the torchlight. He slices the first slavers head off, the second realizing that he's no friend right as he too loses his head. The familiar presence in his mind is gone, replaced only by a void. He pays it no heed, sprinting to the slavers leader, shouting his warcry. "God cant save you from me!" He stops mid-stride, unable to continue, the work of many mages. He tries to break free, but the mages must have combined strength. His mind struggles against the combined power, his will still unable to break the spell.
The Leader walks towards him, laughing at his inability to move. "Such a strange specimen, one that is willing to waste their life to kill slavers like me. Sadly for you, you failed. which is good for me, and my customers." He is within arms reach, if only he could move his arms. Slowly he realizes that the spell is getting weaker, enough for him to speak atl east. "I will kill you."
"Will you now?" The slaver slaps him. "You can't even move you imbecile. Such wasted potential as well."
"Potential to be a slaver like you? That sounds worse than being a slave. Soulless bastards." He slowly gains control of more parts of his body. He is now able to clench his fist.
"And what makes you say we no souls"
"You don't, or you wouldn't act like you're better than those that you enslave, purely because you fight dirty." He can now move his arm. "The point is moot any ways, as you won't get to see those you've killed later." He is about to swing at him when a small black dot underneath him starts growing rapidly. "What the fu....." He gets sucked into it, and it starts rapidly closing behind him.
{feel free to post, as this is the last story.}

You can now post whatever you want, and tell me what you think. If you don't...well lets just say you might wanna post if you've read this. I don't care what you say, but it will help me become a better writer later on.