[Randomness On 2 Legs]

Azalan stood up, still in a daze from the fight. Supporting himself on the wall of the tavern, he sheathed his blade, picked up his bow, and walked towards the front gates.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

Name: Nikolas

Male

Age: 22

Appearance: Human/Angel. About 5’11”, plae, ginger hair (has one of those viking cuts where it’s shaved off in the back and sides but the top is there. And then he had is braided all the way back), deep blue eyes, and he’s covered in freckles. Normally he wears a long, dark grey trench coat, black leather converse, a chain, black pants, and a white, un-tucked, long sleeve dress shirt. He’s not super muscular, but he’s fit.

Bio: I was to lazy to come up with one.

Powers: He can tear portals open through space and time, allowing him to slip into forbidden places. Unfortunately this is corrupting him and often makes him weaker than he normally is. Along with that, he has a large pair of angel like wings that go down to his feet and fair sword fighting skills.

Extra: Is very loyal to his friends.

Extra: Not quiet, but not talkative.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

Azalan reeled back and have another screech. He picked the man up, threw him to the side, and bolted out of the tower. He crashed through the guards who were trying to block the exits at the site of him. Azalan busted through the door he entered the tower in and rose up into the sky.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

The two brushed off the frost spell and threw there daggers at the Khajiit. The first went into her hood, pinning her to the back of her chair, and the second went into her hand. “Silly cat, Stay out of this!” Azalan said. At that moment Ra’Usha (the Argonian) kicked Azalan in the chest and jumped backwards.

“Lord Malog, I call unto you.” Ra’Usha said as he knelt down and put one hand up in the air. Daedric armor began to firm itself on him.

“What in Oblivion…” Azalan said as he stood up and looked down at Ra’Usha.

“My lord. That’s what.” The Argonian said as he picked up his mace and walked towards Azalan. “I told you it didn’t have to be this way.” He said and grabbed Azalan by the throat, lifting him up. “But now it does.” He said and threw Azalan threw the front door of the tavern.

“Please, please forgive me. You know I couldn’t disobey the night mother. It would be as if you disobeyed your… prince or whatever.” Azalan pleaded.

Ra’Usha brought the mace upwards. But lowered it down back into its sheath instead of caving the dark elf’s skull in. “Perhaps you will be my prey another time. Until then, watch your back.” He said and opened a large portal in front of him. He stepped through, and was gone.

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“I wasn’t looking through my own eyes. It was as if, I was in another person’s body, one of the ancient people who lived here…” Azalan said and looked down at the sword “I-I think it has to do with this sword.” He said and waved it around. It made a sound as if it was cutting through the very fabric of time. Azalan looked into what seemed to be some sort of an eye shaped gem on the hilt. “Aaagh!!’ He shouted and held his head again. The same pain he had felt before tore through his body. He looked up and everything was red again. His body was twisting and changing. His jaw unhinged almost making two times as wide, allowing large fangs to grow in. His eyes, well his eyes pretty much stayed the same with the whole dark as night thing. But his wings, which were normally pure white and feather, turned black and leathery, breaking the bindings. His feet contorted into murderous three pronged claws, the same for his hands. Azalan looked up at the man in the eye patch and gave a venomous screech. He lunged forward kicking the man in the chest and sending him into a wall.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

“A-ah yes…” he said quietly with a frightened tone and pointed to the corner of the tavern where a short Argonian wearing a black cloak sat, drinking solemnly. The hood covered his face but let his tail show. Azalan quickly looked back to the bartender. Azalan whipped out his bow at blinding speed at readied and arrow. He let it fly, hitting the Argonian in the back of the shoulder. He stood up and let out a blood curdling hiss. The black clad Argonian pulled out a large, black, spiky mace and ran towards Azalan. Azalan sheathed his bow and pulled out an orcish sword of shocks and parried the mace. The Argonian pulled back and lunged again. Azalan lunged at the same time, knocking the hilt of the mace. As they both bounced back they each took a swing at each others weapons, knocking them out of each of their hands. They both stood weaponless, glaring. Swiftly they each pulled out a dagger from behind them at pointed them at each others throat.

“So this is what it comes down to. Two childhood friends, at each others throats.” Azalan laughed “Astrid couldn’t kill you, Veezara couldn’t, but I will.

“It doesn’t have to be this way…” A raspy voice came from under the cloak. He grabbed the back of his hood and pulled it down, revealing a pink scaled and badly scarred face.

“Oh but it does. I cannot disobey the night mother. Ra’Usha…” The name came out like death itself.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

Azalan looked up, his eyes as black as night, bleeding crimson. “I-it’s not my fault…” he said, his breath as cold as ice. “I just-” he started as he stabbed the sword into the ground and used it to pull himself up “I don’t know. One second I was in some other time, and then the other, I was here, and they were dead…” Azalan rubbed his face and looked down at his hand “Is-is this blood?” He asked, with a frightened tone.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

“W-wha-” Azalan stammered but couldn’t get the words out. His head was spinning, it felt like his entire body was on fire. He tried to drop the sword, but it was as his hand was stuck to it. He grabbed his face with his one good hand and tried to stop the pain equivalent to a hit searing knife in his eyes. He looked up and the pain stopped, but he was not looking through his own eyes. No, Azalan was seeing through one the ancient people who had lived here. He turned around to the sound of fists hitting a door. “Open up, we know you’re in there!” He heard to voices shout, but not in the dialect the ones that escorted him here. The door busted open and too soldiers charged in. It was as he was not in control, and he lunged forward stabbing the first in his abdomen and quickly spun, slicing the seconds throat. Then, the vision stopped. He stumbled back onto the ground and slowly opened his eyes. The two soldiers that followed him down there had busted through the door, but now lay in a puddle of blood. “Oh gods above…” Azalan stammered. He looked down at the blood coated sword. He tried to throw it across the room, but just as before it was stuck in his hand.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

“Oh well.” Azalan said and smiled. He continued on through the dark coridor. As he walked the sounds of the digging soldiers got feint. Azalan stepped through a doorway into a room with a podium. He walked up to the podium and examined what seemed to be an ancient sword, of sorts. “Well this is new.” He picked up the black, rigid sword. It’s hilt and blade were laced with red. ((Just look up a daedric sword from skyrim, that’s what it looks like))

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

Azalan was to enticed by the inside of the tower to care about food. As wandered down deeper in the tower picked up bones here and there, trying to figure out what sort of creature they could’ve come from. “No this isn’t man. Nor beast. Something different…” He said to himself. As he walked, not watching where he was going, he tripped over a small wire and stumbles into a room. As he stood up and brushes himself off, the sound of stone and gears turning filled the room. “Oh no…” Azalan said and ran over to the exit but a door fell and closed it a tight. The two soldiers who were following him started to bang on the stone door.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

He slowly looked around the tavern, taking notes of the people and the easiest way to take them out, if needed. He shut the door behind him and walked over to the bar. He pulled out the seat, sat down, and bought a bottle of wine. “So,” He stopped the bartender before he could walk away “Would you have happened to have seen this man?” He asked and pulled out a small scroll of paper.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

((Disregard the very first post I made about Falkreath.)) Azala kicked the door to the I open with a bang, catching the attention of a few of the people drinking and stopped the bard in the middle of her song.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

<p style=”text-align: left;”>Azalan walked slowly down into the tower. “It’s too dark…” he said to himself. He pulled off an old torch from a wall. He laid it on the ground and pulled out a flint and steel lighter. After a few sparks it lit up and illuminated the room. “Woah…” he said as he turned in a circle. The walls were covered in murals and more of the markings Azalan has found on the outside. A smile grew across his face.</p>

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Azalan made a quick rubbing of the markings. He stood back up and walked over to what seemed like an entrance to the tower. He put his notepad and charcoal away. Feeling around the door he found a small knob. He pushed it in and with the screeching of stone, the doors openes. “Oh yay. This’ll be fun.” Azalan said and walked in.

[Randomness On 2 Legs]

“Worrywart.” Azalan said and took the bag. He opened the biggest pouch and pulled out a small notebook and piece of charcoal. Slowly he walked around the base of the tower. He crouched down to look at some markings. “Hmm…” he said to himself. “This is gonna take awhile.”