{ 011 - Video }
[Lights. Camera. Is that-blood?]
[Wet trails of scarlet red are visible. They lead somewhere far off screen. What's left of the source is still in plain view. It appears to be a body that is rent beyond all recognition. A severed arm lies five feet away, fingers poised as though clawing at the stone beneath it. The shoulders and neck are headless. Everything from the waist down is missing, and what remains of the torso is torn open. What once was inside now hangs out. All over. Everywhere.]
[A figure wanders into view. He is clad in polished silver armor and sports a white lengthy cape. Stitched into the fabric covering his chest is a jagged rune-like symbol, and upon his back a large sword is anchored in place. Silver hair hangs loose about his shoulders. Silver eyes gleam through the mist and then alight upon the cadaver.]
...I may not be outside Rabona any longer, but apparently there are still yoma roaming about.
[Unfazed by his new surroundings, Isley turns his head and allows a glance back in the direction of the city. He looks younger than before, yet still carries himself with the same self-assurance.]
So many are gathered. I wonder what the special occasion is. Whatever it is, it could be fun...perhaps.
[He raises his right arm and draws his sword free of its casing. The weapon-a claymore that he wields one-handed with no effort-gleams pristinely at his side.]
Business first, though. Yoma don't kill themselves.
[His expression is blank like uncharted arctic tundra. And then he smiles; a blistering and cold smile that breaks the ice before the Forge flickers off.]
[Wet trails of scarlet red are visible. They lead somewhere far off screen. What's left of the source is still in plain view. It appears to be a body that is rent beyond all recognition. A severed arm lies five feet away, fingers poised as though clawing at the stone beneath it. The shoulders and neck are headless. Everything from the waist down is missing, and what remains of the torso is torn open. What once was inside now hangs out. All over. Everywhere.]
[A figure wanders into view. He is clad in polished silver armor and sports a white lengthy cape. Stitched into the fabric covering his chest is a jagged rune-like symbol, and upon his back a large sword is anchored in place. Silver hair hangs loose about his shoulders. Silver eyes gleam through the mist and then alight upon the cadaver.]
...I may not be outside Rabona any longer, but apparently there are still yoma roaming about.
[Unfazed by his new surroundings, Isley turns his head and allows a glance back in the direction of the city. He looks younger than before, yet still carries himself with the same self-assurance.]
So many are gathered. I wonder what the special occasion is. Whatever it is, it could be fun...perhaps.
[He raises his right arm and draws his sword free of its casing. The weapon-a claymore that he wields one-handed with no effort-gleams pristinely at his side.]
Business first, though. Yoma don't kill themselves.
[His expression is blank like uncharted arctic tundra. And then he smiles; a blistering and cold smile that breaks the ice before the Forge flickers off.]