Thane, Archer of Karahun's page

Thane shrugs. "I don't see any reason not to accept his offer. Anything is preferable to having to sleep in the woods because all the lodgings are filled up."

Thane glances warily at Nigel, slightly disturbed at his wide smile. I didn't think humans could smile that wide, he thinks to himself. I swear, it looks like his face is going to crack in half...

Outwardly, however, he remains courteous. He knew that this was a man to be wary of, so there was no need to antagonize him now, before the tournament had even begun. "Yes, our tiger-souled friend seems to have volunteered to register for us, he replies. "It seems that it was for the best, given the crowd here. After all, who wants to get in the way of a giant tiger on a mission?" He grins wryly at his little joke, his scars once again twisting fearsomely.

"Also, I do not believe I introduced myself when we last met. I am Thane, son of Aytaç, once of the Karahun Tribe." He extends his hand for a warriors handshake.

Thane grunts softly in annoyance at the guard's words. "This slightly complicates things... Does anyone else already have a place to stay? I just entered the city this morning, and had no intention of staying for more than a few hours until I heard of this tournament." He glances at his four remaining companions before shrugging and ambling off after Chukie. "Well, if worst comes to worst, I shall spend the night in the woods. It will certainly not be a new experience."

Thane shakes his head ruefully, finally starting to relax now that his new companions had come clean with their stories. "Truly, I think you may be right, Chukie. With my bow, your iron skin, Yoshii and Alaris' prowess with their blades, Handrus' alchemy, and Remulus's..." Here he glances over at the quiet man in the black mask, unsure where to classify his area of expertise, "Skills... I think we shall do just fine."

After checking the position of the sun, Thane glances over at his companions. "So, now that we have all finished proving the size of our swords and bows, metaphorical and otherwise, what say you that we go register for this tournament? I do not know if there is a limit to how many applicants are being accepted, but I'd hate to be cut out of my share of glory and riches."

As the duel spar between the two masters progresses, Thane finds himself smiling, his fingers twitching in anticipation. This is what a true duel between equals should look like. Chukie, a master of defense, was shrugging off almost everything that Magister Helm threw at him, while Helm flowed around Chukie's strikes. Honestly, Thane was having a hard time keeping himself from stepping in and joining the fight, turning it into a general melée.

When he sees Chukie suddenly turned to stone, however, Thane's fingers tighten around his bow with an entirely different emotion. Petrifying his opponent was certainly not going to endear Magister Helm to his soon-to-be teammates in this competition. His hand strays to the quiver at his side, only ceasing when Helm breaks the curse he put on his opponent.

"What in the infinite layers of the Abyss were you thinking, Helm?" he growls. "While our tiger-souled friend may be able to laugh of the effects of your spell, I find myself having a bit more difficulty. If you get this carried away in a simple spar, what's to stop you from doing the same in battle and accidentally tagging me, or Yoshii, or one of your other companions with your spells in the heat of battle?"

He turns to Magister Rae. "I do hope you can vouch for your companion, Magister. Otherwise, I find myself wondering more and more if he shall be a liability, rather than a boon to our little troupe..."

Up on the surface, Thane watches as Magister Helm walks off the field with Chukie nowhere to be seen.

"Well," he remarks wryly, "that was certainly a bit anticlimactic..."

Staring first at the man being lifted off the ground like some sort of twisted marionette, then at the man Nigel, Thane's eyes narrow. "Gentlemen, I do believe that is a man to watch out for," he mutters to his companions. "Though I wish I could test my prowess against him, something is very wrong with that man, and it worries me... Especially if he is competing in this tournament."

Thane quietly observes, though his hand strays to his bow in caution, subtly stringing it. Though he had know this man with the soul of a tiger for barely a half-hour, he trusted his judgement. Besides, something about this Magister Helm had been rubbing him wrong for a while now. He seemed too deliberately flamboyant, like he was trying to draw attention away from something else, some other, less savory facet of his personality. And while Thane had no problems with less savory (hell, he'd done more than his fair share of less savory things in his own past) when said less savory things were a threat to his person, they immediately became classified as threats.

And threats were meant to be eliminated...

Thane grunts and steps forward. "As I said, my name is Thane Makiri, once of the Karahun tribe. I am a master archer, and have yet to meet my equal in pure technique." Again he scowls, his voice growing deeper and more menacing. "As for why I'm competing in this tournament, I find myself in need of money and strong allies. For the past ten years, I've been honing my skills in order to return to my family and tribe, and show them the error in their ways... I will show them that they are weak by not embracing other races, and show them the power of the humans the so despise."

His voice suddenly going softer, Thane closes his eyes and bows his head. "And I will finally avenge my wife, who died to pay for my mistakes."

Shaking his head, and clapping his hands together, as of to dust the memories off of them, be turns to the cloaked men before him. "So what is your story, dark ones? You seem to know each other well."

"Not my fault that my people aren't well known for manipulating arcane energies," Thane grumbles. "You humans and elves toss around arcane energy like it's nothing, then seem so shocked when other races don't have the same knack for telling the laws of nature to sit down and shut up."

Stepping forward, Thane claps a fist over his heart in salute to the new trio. "Well then, I suppose I should be welcoming you three into our little group. My name is Thane Makiri, once of the Karahun Tribe." He scowls, as if remembering something that caused him great anger. "Do not make the mistake of treating me like some mindless brute like the rest of my people because of my appearance, however," he says with a pointed look at Magister Rae. "I have studied in some of the finest monasteries in Cellerus, perfecting my mind and my craft. Please do not make the mistake of underestimating me."

Turning back to the winged tiger at his side, Thane asks, "So what now, little man? Since you seem to be the founding member of this little group..."

Thane leans over to mutter in Chukie's ear, nudging his companion in amusement. "Heh, given that both parties have obviously cast spells of some kind, can we even call this a contest of acrobatics anymore?" He laughs in quiet amusement.

Thane's eyes widen slightly at Yoshii's display of acrobatic skill. "Well, now..." Smirking savagely, he turns to Remulus. "Good luck matching that, friend. Perhaps you'll surprise me, but for all your fancy talk, i somewhat doubt you can..." He grins savagely, goading the cloaked man on.

Thane bears his fangs in a savage grin at his new companion's eagerness. "Well, well," he muses, "it seems we've woken our friends battle lust." He takes a few step back to give Yoshii and this new challenger some space as his grin grows darker and slightly more menacing. "This should be fun..."

Resting his hands on his bow, Thane let's his gaze trail over the three cloaked men in front of him. So far, he is unimpressed. While Chukie had surprised him with his transformation into a huge, celestial beast, he had at least given some indication of where his strengths lay. These three, however, were complete unknowns. No weapons, no facial features, no body language cues, nothing.

His face twists into a half-sneer as he addresses these new-comers. "Friend, though you speak prettily enough, it is not charming words and promises of might that will guarantee our success. We need masters of their craft, whether they be disciples of the arts of war, avatars of the gods, paragons of arcane might, or scions of the more subtle arts." Letting his gaze trail over each of the cloaked figures in turn, he gives a harsh bark of laughter. "So far, you look like none of the above, friend."

Turning to Yoshii, he jerks his head in the newcomer's direction. "I say let them test their mettle against the tiger-souled one. It will give us a good gauge of their strengths, and perhaps reveal a taste of any further talents... What say you?"

Thane clicks his teeth in disapproval. The tiger's fur had been harder than anticipated, and his excitement at proving his own might had made his aim go wild. Growling softly to himself, he unstrings his bow and walks back to stand before the huge tiger. He'd be spending a lot of time fine tuning his aim before they entered the arcane maze. His pride in his art demanded it.

"Twas my overexcitement and your armor that deflected my other shots, little man," Thane grumbled. "Still, I commend you for your defenses. Most other men would be halfway down the river of Death by this point."

Meeting the tigers gaze, the master archer inclines his head in respect due to an equal on the battlefield. "I will gladly work with you, little man with the soul of a tiger," he says, his voice booming like thunder. Turing to the tiger's silent companion, he inclines his head to him as well. "And you, silent one with the blade like lightning. Together, we shall crush all other opponents, and claim the prize and fame for ourselves."

The half-breed grins savagely, his scars once more twisting into a terrifying mask. "Onward to glory, brothers. Let's show them what true warriors can do..."

Thane looks nonchalantly at his now much larger opponent, though inside he can't help feeling slightly impressed.

"Well, that's not the most drastic change I've ever seen, but it comes close," he quips. "And since you've been so kind as to show me some of your tricks, I'll show you one of mine..."

Suddenly, the half-breed archer disappears. No arcane gestures, no words of power. In the blink of an eye, a six-and-a-half foot half-Sommarian archer vanishes without a trace.

A few seconds pass, with no sign of the archer. Then, from off to the side a veritable storm of arrows rains down on the great tiger, revealing the half-breed with his hands suddenly empty of arrows, a smirk on his face as all five land in almost the same instant.

Thane just smiles. The ignorance of these common folk could be forgiven. They never had to go through hundreds of hours of practice loading and unloading a single arrow. The intricacies of how to grip their bow had never been drilled into their heads by a cruel and unloving father. They had never tasted the triumph of that arose in the heart of the Karahun archer when they finally landed four arrows on the target, clustered so close and fired so fast, it seemed like they had all been shot at once.

His grin grows wider, as his fingers lovingly grip his bow. They would soon learn what a master could do...

Thane chuckles, his laughter rumbling like distant thunder. "I believe you humans have a saying... Something to effect of 'While the fool speaks, the wise man is silent?'" A fierce grin twists his the scars of his face into a terrifying visage. "Very well, little man. I should like to try my hand at breeching these protective enchantments you silent friend brags so much about." His grin turns sinister as he begins stringing the massive bow in his hand. "Whether you regret that decision is for fate to decide."

Stepping back about 10 paces, he draws a handful of arrows from the quiver at his side, nocking one and holding the rest in his bow hand.

"Whenever you're ready, little man."

A half-Sommarian man strides through the gathered crowd toward the rowdy monk at the corner. Dressed in simple, but practical clothing and standing a good half a head taller than the rest of the crowd, perhaps his most noticeable features are the intricate scars, tattoos, and piercings that decorate his face. Only slightly less noticeable is the massive bow he carries in his hand, heavily runed and clearly of master workmanship.

He stops in front of the two monks, clearly sizing them up.

"Well," he says, his voice deep, like the rumble of a thousand horses galloping across the plains, "I've learned not to judge you humans by appearances, but you, little man, are a class all in your own."

He rests his hands on his massive bow, staring down at this braggart of a monk. "My name is Thane Makiri, and I find myself in need of allies and gold. I challenge you for a place among your group in this ridiculous tourney." He quirks a heavily pierced eyebrow. "Do you think you can avoid the storm of arrows a Karahun Master can bring upon you?"