Sarah Thomas
Stories
7
Chapters
3,706
Words
2.4 M
Comments
0
Reading
8 d, 8 h
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Deep in the Mosswood Wilds, in the territory of the Ivory Judge sect, a cave was hidden away. Considered sacred ground, it was protected by ancient, illusory formations, hiding its location from potential enemies and threats. Deep within, slumbered the Guardian Beast of the sect-- a great and powerful dragon... if Taree was to be believed. At Tycon's behest, the two of them traveled alone. The girl begged for Pale to accompany them, but Tycon cruelly rejected her wish. Pale and Wroe had information to…-
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(For: 1 / Against: 2) Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark stood proudly in front of Tycon. He gave a sharp salute with a hand to his chest, "Boss. I'm here." Tycon reared his head back in embarrassment and narrowed his eyes, "Mister Barza... what are you doing? The votes are in order of seniority." Lone held his salute, "I'm reporting... Sir?" "Sit down, Mister Barza," Tycon said with an annoyed voice. "Sir Tycon? ...What?" Lone didn't realize what he'd done wrong. Dragan was chortling in the…
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Pale held his metal staff up high as Tycon struck his sword down upon it. His knees buckled under the weight and he dropped down to a knee, cracking the wooden floor beneath him. A few suns prior, Taree had seen Pale block Tycon's heavy halberd. The halberd back then seemed weak, ponderous, and slow... while the dull blade in Tycon's hands... Her mind sorted through the legends she knew. She had read about the blade of the kindly Sword Saint, who taught patience and precision. Tycon's was nothing like…
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Tarquin Wroe jolted awake and tried to sit up. Pots and weapons clanged and shifted amongst Invictus' traveling packs and supplies. "Welcome back to the world of the living, bud!" The ruby-red haired giant, Dragan, was the first to greet him. Wroe hopped out of the supply cart, gliding down gently, "Hey! What'd I miss?" Dragan opened his arms in an exaggerated shrug, "Nothin'! Absolutely NOTHIN'! No brigands! No trouble with the guards! Not even angry glares, man! These guys are all spooked or…
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Tycon had finally collected enough information about his System's hostility detection. Young Master Hisato began with a red tag, the color of outright, open hostility. With a red tag, an enemy would actively seek to harm him physically or socially. Outward and targeted aggression was incredibly rare... He'd only seen red on the Shadowdark Wolves (minus Barza), on the guardsman he had Barza show his 'kindness' to, and the warriors of the Muto family. Once he had shown his abilities, Hisato's tag…
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**Content Warning: Explicit Torture** Yoshio was in a miserable state. He was beaten and battered by Bucket and Barza. His leg was shattered by Dragan. And then Bucket had dragged him for a half-a-bell through the thorny undergrowth of the Mosswood Wilds. His hair was stark white and patches of it were missing. His body was covered in bruises from blunt weapon trauma. His face was swollen and he was missing several teeth. His skin was raw or torn away from being dragged. Also, a strange blue…
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Tycon swung the halberd down with both hands, powerfully plummeting towards the grounded Pale. He buried the blade a half-fulm away from Pale's head, cracking the earth and erupting a cloud of dust and shower of pebbles. Tycon leaned over, yelling in Pale's face, "Why. Didn't. You. DODGE?!" The sandy-haired boy held his stomach and gave a sheepish smile in response, "I finally, finally hit you, Sir!" Tycon pursed his lips to the side, hesitating... "Is that what you're so proud of?" He unstuck his…
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Wroe was sent to retrieve the supply cart and horses and to meet up at the Gann den. Mister Dragan volunteered to wake up Barza, who had done so by throwing a strange, black, egg-shaped device at him. Tycon used a green talisman on Hisato, entrapping him within a heavy green solid-crystal prison, which Dragan carried on his back. Yoshio was tied in rope and Bucket was ordered to drag the man to the Gann den. Tycon was quite pleased with his impromptu, if unnecessarily cruel, training idea. The boy…
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Tycon looked down at the mediocre young, silver-haired Martialist, Kimura Taree. Her orange robes would have been impressive, had they not been savaged by thorns and whatever sword-damage her pursuers dealt. He prayed his interrogation would be fruitful, as they often did not. "Young lady, I'd like a word with you, if convenient," Tycon requested. Taree tilted her head. The gesture could be considered cute. "Bumfuzzle!" She exclaimed. Tycon furrowed his brows, "I'm sorry, what?" Taree smiled, "You…
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Kimura Taree smashed her tiny palm into Hisato's chest, blood spraying everywhere from his already-open chest wound. "Dragon's Tail!" She swept her leg viciously, taking Hisato's footing from beneath him. Tycon appraised the girl's every action. She was fast, but her strikes were mediocre-- they lacked bite, killing potential. "Consecutive Stone Punches!" She rained down blows upon the fallen man. Tycon raised his eyebrows in silence. He'd give her a slight increase in score for viciousness. Hisato…
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