User:Kazuma
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| This page describes a character who is permanently dead. |
Name: Kazuma Hitokiri Race: Vampire Age: 21 human years, doesn't bother keeping up with vampiric Class: Spellblade Subclass: Pyromancer(ok'd by Blaze) Family: Adopted Pixie daughter by the name of Sonia, and his grandson Zeydyn (son of Kenji and Immersa) Eye color: Normal(rarely seen now) Seagreen Eye Color Most often: Violent blood red
- recently has been hired as a vassal for Kasyr*
When I raise my flashing sword, and my hand takes hold on judgment, I will take vengeance upon mine enemies, and I will repay those who haze me. Oh, Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me among Thy saints.
Kazuma's Biography: Humanity Lost
One dark and stormy night, Kazuma walked down into the Black Library looking for his friend Tetsumi. He searches rack after rack of books until he hears the soft sound of sobbing coming from the last aisle of books. Quickly he runs toward the woman and kneels down before her, and notices she is about to lift a bottle of dragon’s blood to her lips. Quickly he knocks the bottle away from her, it’s contents spilling across the floor as the glass shatters.
Kazuma: Tetsumi, what is wrong? Tetsumi: I’m a monster Kazzy, I don’t deserve to live….. Kazuma would place a hand on the crying womans shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, seagreen hues filled with worry. Kazuma: You’re not a monster Tetsumi, you’re my friend. Tetsumi: Kazzy, I killed my own son and husband a long time ago….I am a monster…I’ve killed countless people, I have to suffer with that, alone, for eternity. Several long moments pass as Kazuma would think. Slowly and very shakily a hand reaches up to remove the Adrian family crest from his neck. Slowly he brushes his long spiky white hair away from his neck and speaks in a voice just barely above a whisper. Kazuma: Tetsumi, turn me….you don’t have to suffer alone. We can suffer together. Sniffling, Tetsumi would look up at the male, tears slowing somewhat at his words. Tetsumi: You know if I do this, there’s no going back… Kazuma would then nod and close his eyes before he changed his mind. Kazuma: Yes Tetsumi, do it. Several moments later, after what seemed like a lifetime to the male, the vampiress drained his blood, and gave him hers, turning the human spellblade pyromancer into a fledgling vampire.
Inner Light is found once again: Not long after the siring, about a year or so, Tetsumi and Kazuma had gone on a spree against the Kiss of Death, unbeknownst to them, at the same time the Archmage Rheven was. Kazuma’s hidden secret from Tetsumi was that he had also enlisted the help of the Avian Turel at the time, the trio taking out a good number of the clan. It was during this time, events would happen that would change the vampire’s look on life, and slowly bring him back from the darkness.
Meeting of Chance at the Druid’s Tree: Kazuma was waiting patiently at the base of the Druid’s Tree, a letter in his hand from a woman who said she had wished to meet him. Reading the letter over and over, trying to figure out who sent it, the vampire would wait patiently. Moment’s later, a woman appeared in the area. This woman’s name was Kathleen. To the vampire, she was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Immediately upon sighting the vampire, her first question startled him the most. She had asked why he does all the bad things he does, and take orders from Tetsumi. The vampire of course, had no answer at the time, but Kazuma and Kathleen started talking more and more, quickly becoming friends. Unbeknownst to the both of them, a rather interesting event was fixing to take place that would draw them closer.
Sonia Growling, Kazuma would be sitting in the tavern, still trying to come up with an answer to Kathleen when he’d hear a faint wailing coming from under his chair. Curiously he looks underneath his chair and spots an abandoned Pixie infant. Slowly and carefully he picks up the infant, doing his best to feed her. As he laid eyes on the infant, some changes were taking place deep within the vampire…light itself was starting to show through. Carefully he carried the pixie infant to the Dragon’s Head Inn, fighting off any creature that tried to attack her. Along the way he spotted Kathleen and asked her to help him get the baby to safety. Oddly enough, the pixie took to Kathleen quickly, as in took to her as her mother. The result of the pixie infant being Kazuma and Kathleen falling in love.
Betrayal: Tetsumi had seen how close Kazuma and his new family were, and was growing quite jealous. She had even gone as far as threaten to kill Kathleen and his daughter if he didn’t leave Kathleen and be with her. She had done this twice, each time the vampire leaving the vampiress after deciding she wasn’t worth it. In her rage, she had Lynn bring the fledgling to her house where she would then attempt to kill him. After attempting to fight back for the longest time, his strongest spells being easily deflected by the vampiress, he decided to create one, last, final trick, to make the vampiress think he had died. Expending most of his magical energy, he managed to make it look like she had landed a final killing blow to his body, when in fact, he had vanished into the shadows and reappearing in a place far from Hollow. Now, after two years, he has returned and is trying to restore his old life once again.
Duels
Kazuma vs. Nasurate
Nasurate is going for the seasoned wizard look today. The blackwood staff, usually strapped tightly into the bindings that travel down the length of his back, is clamped tight between the slender fingers of the Tree Born’s right hand, while the obsidian, gold-tipped wand which would normally be seen balancing precariously behind a pointed ear is held in his left, dangling at his side, ready for use. Prude as always, especially in battle, he calmly awaits Kazuma to appear ready, weapon drawn and stance taken, before instantly delving deep into internal energies, and forcing them into the usual flow of energy around his fragile-looking form. Runes of crimson, braided so carefully and intricately into white cloth robes, take an eerie hue as the mana takes the usual paths through the mage’s body, flowing into both arms before being released from the fingertips into the body of the wand and staff, ready for conversation. The first item to lift for use is the blackwood staff, which is raised directly before the wry male’s chest, and held so that the tiny red pebble set into the centre of the staff’s star-shaped head is trained upon Kenji. Knowing full well what vampiric speed can accomplish if left unchecked, the first intention is to hinder Kazuma’s movements, and this is accomplished by releasing a number of the usual pulses that are used to latch onto the surrounding air. Only this time the invisible magic pulses are pushed forward, away from Nasurate and towards the opposing spell-blade, before spreading out around him. And there they begin to gather the nearby air, compressing it, making it much more dense as they spin around the vampire, thus creating an area around Kazuma, of around three foot in radius from his body, which would be most difficult to move through with any speed, thanks to the dense air that would certainly cause difficulty in swift movement. This cautionary measure taken it is the turn of the obsidian wand to lift, and this is also trained upon Kazuma, Sophie gave 1 Mantle of Chaos to Clarity. Nasurate :: square upon his chest. For a short moment Nasurate stands where he is, releasing pulses with haste and driving them forward to scour the internal workings of the elf’s present adversary. So many chemical reactions in one body, surely somewhere there must be a spark, no matter how small… Success! A spark is located, the briefest of things caused by stomach acids, and instantly is it seized upon. The wand comes upward in a wide arc, the fluid movement enacting a deadly offensive. That self-same tiny spark bursts into mad flames, feeding swiftly upon the spell-blade’s innards, a rabid blaze within the vampire’s abdomen, clawing at his flesh in a scream of release. Sophie vanished before your eyes, perhaps never to be seen again. Kazuma had indeed been waiting patiently for the Tree Born to arrive. His right fingers are clutched tightly around the hilt of a jagged longsword. Formidable indeed the spell blade would look in his combination of Chaos and black spiked armor. Standing his ground, he raises his blade chest level as he senses the energy from Nasurate charging. What the elf was doing, he hoped he wasn't, but unfortunately, his fears were answered as the high winds surround his form, reducing his speed. Well, there goes strategy one. Before he knows it, a burning pain rampages throughout his body. What the hell?! he thinks to himself as the burning intensifies. The spellblade, being a fellow pyromancer himself, didn't take too long to notice what that burning was. Quickly he resheathes the blade whilst he clutches his stomach, indeed, the pain was intense. Nonetheless, he focused on gathering heat from nearby sources. The sun, the elf's own body heat, the natural heat particles in the air, even the blindingly painful heat the elf had turned on him, would go into this. Dark energy crackles about his form whilst thanks to gathering the energy from the burning flames the elf had cast within him, the flames quell, leaving severe internal damage that would take time. Pure hatred is seen in the vampires violent bloodred gaze as he shakily, and painfully rises. The moment he shakily gets to his feet, both palms are thrust forward, releasing the gathered energy he had called for. Using the elf's own body heat as a lock, he releases his attack. A large wall of black flames ignite to life around the pyromancer, giving him about maybe a five foot cirlce of untouched ground to work with, the flames rapidly closing on on his form.
Nasurate lifts his wand ever higher as the vampire doubles over, feeding the flames more of his energies, revelling in the joy of feeling them grow, nurturing them to their full intensity. And then, like a mother who’s child has just been ripped from the womb, he feels the flames leave his grasp, and a look of surprise steals over the lightly tanned countenance. It appeared Kazuma was of some skill. A white brow lifts as hate-ridden, blood-red eyes clamp upon the elf’s own green burning irises’ dancing about black pupils. But alas, the idyllic staring match does not last very long at all, for out of nowhere do the black flames erupt, and a look of pain rushes through the Tree Born’s expression, while pointed ears quiver in earnest. This must have been the ‘darkfyre’ Kazuma had bragged about. Oh yes, it certainly felt as such… He could practically hear them, that poor, tortured blaze, screaming in fear for release from the taint which held it bound, crying to be turned, once more, into it’s pure, natural form and no longer serve as the slave of a chaotic spell-caster. Well, Nasurate would be the one to grant it the release it needed. Just as the mage had done when Nemisis the Draconian had used something of similar build against him, Nasurate lifts his wand to free more pulses, and they do not have a way to travel before they find the fast approaching dark flames. They latch onto the blaze, feeding it the energies required for it’s cleansing. They come with added haste, rushing forward in their eagerness to become one with this strange source of salvation, but alas, they are all too hasty, falling violently upon the form of Nasurate, who releases a strangled yell before finally having caught a strong enough hold of the fires to lift his staff, and utter a triumphant word in a language long forgotten. Instantly all hint of darkness is abolished, the fires slowly begin to recede, or so it seems, absorbed into the golden point of the obsidian wand, Nasurate :: which is now held before a robed chest. Slowly, bit by bit, Nasurate appears from within the blaze, the tips of his hair smouldering, as well as a great many small holes burn into his robes, leaving reddening flesh beneath. But small burns, nothing of great import or hindrance. The sphere atop the wand is tiny, it is a wonder that something so small can hold all the energy derived from flames which previously hid a full-grown elf from view. But it is only held aloft for viewing briefly, before the wand is violently thrust forwards, causing the sphere to shoot through the air towards the vampire, and when almost touching his form, a mere inch from his armour plates, the energy would be released. An explosion rips through the surrounds with such force even Nasurate is compelled to take a single step backwards, dust and rubble from previously whole earth thrown upwards in abundance, leaving deep scorch marks on the ground where Kazuma previously stood. The dense air preventing Kazuma’s vampiric speed seems to have disappeared, the energy having been recruited for use in Nasurate’s previous defence.
Kazuma smirks while the pain in his innards subsides some, but not entirely. Vampiric self healing is such a wonderful thing, it is......he muses even though he will still need the Healer's Guild to take a look. Triumphantly, a dark grin spreads across the dark pyromancer's face. Oh how he loved watching his flames burn. The fact his attack had worked, even slightly was enough for him. Firmly, he keeps his gaze on the wood elf, redrawing his blade as he stands his ground, gathering more heat energy as he awaits his opponent's counter. He had loved the look in the elf's eyes when he had robbed him of his own attack. Unfrotunately, it would more than likely be his foes turn to enjoy the look in his gaze as Nasurate's unseen attack unleashes itself upon it's prey's unsuspecting figure. Rock and earth alike explode around the vampire, the force of the attack thankfully knocking him out of the spot he was in. His body is sent dangerously close to the portal of darkness as it flies, rock, earth, and small bits of smoldering flames hit the vampires face head on, leaving cuts that vanish almost as instantly as they had appeared, being minor wounds, but the burn marks from the bits of flame were visible. As he gets up, bits of spiked armor crumble, but that wouldn't matter, oh no it wouldn't, as the vampire senses something had lifted. Bloodred hues flash with excitement as the air spell was lifted, the vampire then wasting no time in dashing toward his opponent. To the naked human eye, it would appear he had disappeared. The elf himself should have some difficulty tracing him, the vampire knew this. As he runs, his blade is held ready. Appearing behind the vampire, he swings the jagged blade towards his prey's wand arm, hoping to sever a nerve, or at least injure him enough to force him to drop his weapon. You said, "ooc *fixes the last vampire to wood elf*" Nasurate lets his wand hand fall as the explosion is enacted, turning flaming green gaze over the rips and burns in his robes, examining the flesh beneath over his abdomen and arms. Teeth bite down upon the bottom lip. Some of them were quite sore, almost blackening. And yet, it felt oddly comforting to feel burns again. This is interrupted, however, by a mass that suddenly disturbs the air, and thus those lingering magic pulses that are still inherit in the air after the explosion, thus enabling the elf to sense the movement. Fingers tighten around the blackwood staff, those small, lingering pulses latched onto and brought swiftly towards the elf, where they also spread to the air around him, gathering the air around the Tree Born and compressing it tightly before binding it around his body, forming a small yet tight, almost invisible barrier of hardened gas around Nasurate. It serves it’s purpose with relative competence, despite it’s meagre size; Kazuma’s blade is hindered greatly as it slices through the barrier, slowed down so that, when it does finally make contact, it can barely cut through the cloth threads of the robe sleeve, and the tiny little prick it causes upon the skin beneath is hardly worth noticing. The staff, still raised from the forming of the barrier, releases a final, mighty intense pulse outwards, gathering as much air as possible into the barrier, all accomplished with but a blink of an eye, then does the tail of the staff come slamming down into the earth beneath Nasurate’s feet. The barrier, now a fair deal thicker than it had been when the blade has pierced it, explodes outwards from the elf, sending forth a massive blast of compressed air on all sides of the Tree Born, back included, the air carrying enough force to send any man flying for metres. Whence this blast has been released the mage turns upon the heel of a runed boot, lifting his wand to again point directly for Kazuma’s chest. The vampire should, by now, be downed, Nasurate :: but even if he is not a mighty blaze explodes from the golden tip of the obsidian magic tool, scouring across the ground in it’s haste to consume the spell-blade, and burn him to nothing more than mere ash piled upon the floor before the portal of darkness.
Kazuma scowls as his attack fails to do the accomplished task he had set. Violent blood red optics narrow angrily. The elf had some rather strong blood, the vampire could smell it. Oh how he wanted a taste. That would have to wait however, as silver white brows raise from behind his visor as the power from Nasurate's coming attack is sensed, the spellblade, having no time to prepare a defense. Forcefully, his body is sent flying through the air, his spiked armor shattering entirely, leaving him in nothing but black robes and his chaos armor. Dazedly, he could sense the flames erupting beneath him as he falls. Even then, a dark grin etches itself across the vampires features. Unbeknownst to his foe, he was still gathering heat energy. All Nasurate had done was provide him with more firepower. "Come to me!" he yells as his body falls right into the flames, which by now are naught but mere embers. Still, they are hot enough to cause burns on his back. The sound of burning flesh can be heard as he painfully rises to his feet. He would have to act quick, this was it, his one last chance to shut this pyromancer up. To show he was superior. The grin on his face only grows wider as the dark pyromancer has the perfect finishing blow in mind. The elf wouldn't know what hit him. He resheathe's his longsword and holds out his right hand, channelling the heat energy he had gathered into his palm. A small black fireball appears, hovering above his palm. Relying on his speed for one last attack, he dashes towards the vampire, appearing on his right side, the palm with the fireball held out in front of the elf's chest. The black fireball shrinks until it disappears, as if it was never there. Certain this disappearance would hopefully cause confusion with the elf, he unleashes the attack. An explosive force erupts from his palm where the fireball had been, from that explosion, large amounts of black flames surround the elf's body, threatening to consume him. The dark pyromancer sends more
You :: and more energy into the flames, wanting them to burn as furiously as possible. He himself had been sent skidding back a few inches from his own attack, and could be seen on one knee, channelling the last bit of his energy into this attack, his one last attempt to take out Nasurate.
Nasurate is not stupid. Nasurate knows better than simply to stand idly by and await retaliation. Indeed, the staff is lifted the moment the wand drops and flames cease, beginning to craft that self-same defence that had been shown just moments before. Air is gathered in large clumps, pulses released to gather more of the surrounding air, compress the large amounts and bind them shapely over the elf’s form, again forming that air shield. Efforts are renewed as the fireball is shown, and disappointment surfaces. He had expected far better from one whom could brag as Kazuma did. But it seems, in a desperate effort to finish the fight, he has taken to mimicking the fire craft of Nasurate’s self. The shield, whence it is finished forming, is quite ridiculous in size, and Kazuma actually steps into the barrier as he hurries for Nasurate, a testament to it’s true bulk. Thus are the vampire’s movements slowed from walking through dense air, and when the explosion is actually released, Nasurate is indeed sent flying backwards. He lands sprawled some way off, but perfectly unarmed, cushioned perfect from the force by his air shields, and the mage climbs quite shakily to his boots, shaking his head from side to side, the corners of pale-peach lips tugging downwards in disappointment