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Post by Achilles on Wed Dec 26, 2018 5:23 pm

Walking down the dimly lit streets of Argos, a lone figure moved in silence. This was none other than Achilles, the Lone Wolf of Sparta. He wore a black, hooded trench coat, trimmed in white. The hood ragged around the edges from years of wear and tear. The man held a confident look about him, not paying attention to the crooks and thugs lining the streets. Argos had fallen far from the time of its creation. It was now the most corrupted city in Sparta, not even worthy to aid in the upcoming war effort. As he walked, he felt something off, so moved down an alley off to his side. It was a dead end and three thugs had followed him in. He let out a sigh, the chill in the air making his breath visible. "Let me pass. I do not wish to kill you." He stated this in a simple, matter-of-fact tone. The three laughed and began to walk towards him, two of them held clubs while one held what appeared to be a centurion blade, stolen no doubt from one of the careless peacekeepers. "Give us your valuables and we might let you go with only a few broken bones. You don't have any weapons, don't try to fight us." The leader said as he motioned for his two cohorts to advance on their helpless 'victim'. Achilles let out another sigh as he caught the first club attempting to strike him across the face. Pulling it from the man's grasp he would backhand the other thug with his free hand hard enough to send him into the wall next to him, cracking it with his body. Using the pommel of the club, he would hit the first thug in the gut and then on the back of the neck when he doubled over. Looking back to the ring leader, he could see the man had a twinge of fear at first which was replaced by arrogance and overconfidence. "Oh, i'm gonna kill you now. Hope you aren't afraid of death!" He would rush forwards at what seemed to be a snails pace to Achilles. "I do not fear the valley, for I am the Shadow." As he finished speaking, a black scythe would appear in his right hand as he dropped the club. The air would become thick and the man would stumble a bit from the weight of pure magical pressure put on him. He took two steps before he succumbed to unconsciousness. Achilles would allow the scythe to vanish again, why did this always happen to him?
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Post by Beleg on Wed Dec 26, 2018 5:39 pm

A short chuckle could be heard from inside the alley, as a bundle of cloth seemed to move and began shuffling towards the collapsed ringleader. Stringy blonde hair could be seen peeking out, and the now-revealed man's eyes were milky with cataracts. A...smell seemed to follow him, as if something had died within his clothing and was still there. He was absolutely filthy, and it only seemed to get worse as he grew closer. Kneeling down next to the unconscious bandit, the homeless man began pawing at him.

"You really seemed to do a number on this one, youngster, and the rest weren't slouches either. Mind telling me how ya managed it?" He spoke in a high, raspy voice. Judging from the way his hands were shaking, he obviously believed that the bandits were the top dogs around here.

After giving Achilles a moment to answer, the homeless man would pipe in once more. "Could I happen to ask you for a favor? You see, I can't walk too well anymore, and it's too dangerous for me to crawl to the well myself, with the way Argos has been. I haven't had water in three days...Cou-Could you carry me, youngster?"
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Post by Achilles on Wed Dec 26, 2018 11:43 pm

Achilles would cast a glance at the decrepit old man before letting loose a sigh, that seemed to be happening a lot today. "Just luck I guess. I suppose I could carry you for a ways, but only to the bath house. You should be able to find water there." He didn't have anything better to do with his time, but that didn't mean he planned to carry the old man around all night. Walking over and slinging the man over his shoulder, in a kind and gentle manner befitting the slinging of an elderly man over ones shoulder, Achilles would begin the relatively short jaunt to the Bath Houses. It wasn't far and when they arrived he set the man out on the cornerstone of one of the many fountains around the Bath House. "There, you should be able to get plenty of water from this fountain. See you around." With that, he would turn to leave the old man be, he had brooding to do after all.
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Post by Beleg on Thu Dec 27, 2018 2:04 pm

The old man grunted thankfully at the small gesture of kindness, and shifted to make himself easier to carry. The bathhouse wasn't terribly far, mind you, but for the last hundred meters or so as they approached the fountain the old man seemed to grow heavier and heavier, until it seemed as if he weighed a ton on his own.

Finally, once he was set down next to the fountain, hhe would begin smiling, and reach into the fountain to bring out a handful of the remarkably-clear water. As the wandering Spartan began to walk away, he would hear a deep, rich voice from behind him, soft and regal, all in all a far cry from the raspy affair he would have associated with the old man. "So shines a good deed in a weary world..."

If Achilles were to turn around, he would witness the old man run the water over his face, his cataracts disappearing to reveal eyes of an unnerving crimson. The stringy, dirty blonde hair would clean itself, becoming the color of polished gold, and as soft-looking as a cat's underbelly. Standing up, the homeless man would smile, his teeth blindingly-white.

With a snap of his fingers, the golden man's rags turned into a pair of baggy brown pants made of doe leather with gold embroidery, and a matching coat that was unbuttoned to reveal the physique of a warrior.

Achilles would likely know who this was immediately. While his temple was located in Olympia, his likeness could be seen everywhere throughout the world. He was the King of Olympus, the First Hero. He was Beleg, one of the three chief deities.
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Post by Achilles on Thu Dec 27, 2018 5:13 pm

Hearing the change in the voice behind him, Achilles would turn to face the now changing old man. His form changed swiftly into what could only be the visage of a god. Now he knew why it had seemed the old man had gotten slightly heavier as they walked, this was some form of divine test. He had never been an overly religious man, it is thought that his family were descendants of Alucard, the God of Hades, but it was a legend. Or at least, he had thought so until he was gifted power by the deity. Now here was the Lord of Olympus, Beleg. Why did he always come across such excitement when he was looking for a lazy day? "Uh.. Hello, Lord Beleg." How did one address such an important person? He had no idea, though he had never really worried about the gods, they, or at least most of them that he knew about had started as some form of mortal or at least in a mortal form, so they couldn't be THAT pretentious... could they? Ahh, it didn't matter at this point, he had already spoken and thus simply had to wait for the lightning bolt.
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