The Man Behind the Mask

[DungeonMaster]

The masked man turned towards his daggers, walking to them and staring down, "The only thing that takes away the pain of the mask's burden... is this pair of daggers." He reached for them as if to pick them up.

[Chronica]

She followed glancing at the daggers then to her own sword. She ran her fingers over the sword's three bevel set gems, and then skimmed the angel wing guard. "And why is it that your daggers are your only release from pain?"

Charon eyed the woman. He had never been one to openly talk to a female. The only successful attempt was his life mate, which he gave up for eternal life. Ever since, his attempts to talk to another female have all been pitiful to say the least. This ring was both his love and his hated counterpart. Every day, an illusion of himself enjoying the high life would look upon him in disgust and laugh. He would truly begin life anew once this blasted ring was removed. ~You will never escape me. We shall forever be bound. I would like to see your delicious plans once more.~

[DungeonMaster]

"My dear Miss Chronica... my daggers have drunk of the blood of many innocents and many foul men alike. The only thing that appeases the mask is blood, but I must be careful not to let it do the killing for me... if you understand what i'm saying." He spoke quietly, as if he had some dark secret he was poorly attempting to keep hidden.

[Jal-Koon]

Jal's thoughts were soon interrupted, the energies that had sustained him for so long had little tolerance for happiness. Even thoughts of courtship reminded him of the countless lives and relationships he had destroyed to get to where he was. More than once Jal's silent torment made him question his goals, but his fear of death soon put a stop to that, it always did.

[Chronica]

"And I have tasted the blood of many foul men and some innocents, mostly livestock and only in the worst of times... It is, oh how can I say this?" She stuck her thumb nail in her mouth as she thought on it.

"Mmm, yes it is a part of my life source. Granted the Troll Spit has helped with the issue by having a machine that creates it for me rather than killing for it. Odd isn't it... that draining the life blood of someone helps to sustain anothers life." Chronica glanced back over her shoulder to Charon and Jal, she smiled at the both of them then turned back to the man in the mask. "So now that you know my name, I do simply request that you give me yours, a true name, and that you introduce me to your companions."

Charon had been absently listening in on their conversation. Hearing their talks of taking lives made him remember all the people he had slain. Unfortunately, it was for no purpose other than pleasure. He relished seeing his sword cutting through flesh and watching the blood spatter and mess everything. He had even, at times, drank the blood of his victims just to add more nightmarish details to his reputation. However, the blood drinking was now a habit of his, not the ring's. Everyone knew about him, and not a single bounty hunter in the world had the stones to come looking for him.

~Yes, remember those times. The countless innocents slain to pleasure me. The drinking of blood to pleasure you. Oh, the master would love to have you in his employ.~ Charon had been grinning with pure evil as he remembered. He licked his lips when he saw the blood. The urges he had banished several months ago all came back in a flood. He whispered to the ring. "We must kill again. I need someone to kill, someone to drink. Satisfy our needs that I have deprived us." ~But who can we kill? The necromancer is no good. The winged woman or the masked man would be appropriate, but not satisfying enough.~ "Our journey." The ring flashed and slowly ebbed back to its original color, understanding what Charon meant.

[Jal-Koon]

Jal's mind snapped back to the present. He began to examine a glass on the table behind him as to not seem impatient. Then Charon's whispering caught his attention but he couldn't get a good earful. He leaned over to Charon.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

[DungeonMaster]

He hopped down out of the chair, smiling behind the mask, "Two introductions are necessary, Miss Chronica." His eyes flashed in the mask, "Let the mask do the introductions...." his voice leaked out of the mask as did a purple m,ist from the sockets of the eyes and the mouth. Then the metal sprang to life and the man hopped up onto the bar deftly, running its length as fast as he could and doing a back flip at a full run off of it. He landed in a split and popped up at the far end of the room.

"I am the Heart Jester, the Trickster of Tricksters, a goblin, a man, or anything that I please. Let me whisper keenly in your ear and I will let you look through my eyes." The mask twisted and grinned, sticking a silver tongue out the hole keenly and licking the air mockingly. More smoke poured out, and where the goblin had been, there was the man again, his eyes human once more under the empty silver. "I have gone by many names... Ace, some have called me. Also I have been called Mask. It has been long since my true name was spoken. I, my accursed friends, am John Dormaker, a man who just wants to say that he lived one more day with the sun on his face. It is my pleasure to intoduce myself. Now that you know who it is behind the mask, i suppose you'll be wanting an explaination for why the mask also had to give its own introduction. It is a strong artigfact, and it's influence has corrupted my mind. It has created an alter ego to myself... an evil goblin. I fight him in my dreams nightly. Only the daggers can fend him off."

[Chronica]

"A pleasure to meet the both of you." Chronica said as she preformed a curtsie. "Now to the introduction of the Naga and Necromancer." She smiled softly.