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About Holdeng

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  1. Holdeng gasps as the polearm enters his chest, the blade shoving clear through his chest and exiting his back. He looks up at Ionn and uses the last bit of his strength to spit into his face, then crumples over, dead before he hits the ground.
  2. Holdeng looked around, watching the exchange. The fool couldn't actually protect him. The witch and the others would kill him. So it came down to this. He took a deep breath and extended his hand to Styxen's collar. As he did so, instead of unfastening it (in actuality an extremely simple task, if you knew how to do it), he grabbed and twisted it, breaking Styxen's concentration on the shield, and inflicting a fair amount of hurt as a bonus. As the shield came down, Holdeng snatched a satchel of powder and threw it in Daala's face, attempting to blind her for a few seconds. As the powder left his hand, he twisted around and brought his foot up at Solonev's midsection, then threw a small pinch of powder at the ground and vanished.
  3. Holdeng snapped back into his reasoning state of mind about the same time the demon belted him in the stomach, and was vastly confused as to why he was still alive. The paladin... well, the talkative one... was saying something about his collar and protection. No surprise there. Holdeng nodded in agreement, if only to stay alive long enough to figure out a way out of this.
  4. Holdeng had seen Daala coming up the pass. He'd hoped it wasn't for his new acquisitions, but he hoped in vain. He shadowed her down to the dungeons, making sure to stay out of sight as she freed the prisoners. For a moment he'd though the dark-haired one, the initial Blood Elf, had seen him, but he said nothing, so he assumed that he remained hidden. He watched in anger as Daala freed them. How he hated them! Especially 'her'. So superior and calm. She didn't cower before him... He shook his head. He couldn't afford to lose his cool now, or he'd be discovered. A few minutes ticked by. They still hadn't left, they were bickering about something. His anger began to build again, and this time, he couldn't control it. A red haze clouded his vision, and he leapt out at the one who gave rise to his rage. Solonev shrieked as Holdeng jumped at her out of the darkness. ((Wait for Solonev to post next, please.))
  5. Holdeng


    ((Given the setting, I'd say its a limited response, but yeah, sure. I'm more of a reactive RP'er, anyway.))
  6. Holdeng


    Scritch, scritch What was once a man sits alone at a desk, the instruments of his trade neatly ordered around him. A knife here, a vial of glowing liquid there, an inkwell near at hand. The room is scrubbed clean, the stone clean and polished. Scritch, scritch He studiously, though impatiently, wrote in his journal, having replaced it since Sulajin vaporized his last one in a typical attempt to prove his own superiority by antagonizing him. It had, annoyingly, worked, and he had paid the price. He smirked. A potion to heal his wounds, and an understanding of how Bloodbreaze fought. The pen stopped. That brought him back to his other battles. Many, many battles. Every one a learning experience. Every one he had survived. He had names for them. Arriandria, the little fool who thought herself his superior. Okhu, the orc so wrapped up in her own power that she forgot the basics of combat. Zusteakai, whom he was convinced would simply deflate into nothingness if he managed to prick him with a dagger. And then there was Niethan. The subject that Villinger's mental experiments were the basis for. That one never went quietly, but he always went. The pen started again. Scritch, scritch Blast all this WRITING! They had just managed to capture a species he had never seen before, and he wanted to play! He wanted to see how long it could scream, what its blood tasted like, how long it could go without passing out. It was chained up in an extremely secure location, seeming in a catotonic state for now, as though it could ignore its harsh reality. However, it did mouth words at him from time to time. Defiler. Corruptor. Destroyer. He had no idea what these meant, at least to the creature. He put in some minor speculations, knowing Villinger would ignore them, as he always did, or take them for his own ideas. That didn't bother him. Villinger let him play, and that was good enough for him. Speaking of playing... he realized he was finished. He ended his speculations, dated and signed the notes, then picked up a few tools and headed into the dungeons, his fingers curling in anticipation. He would have his fun, but soon he needed to get back to his other experiments. Niethan needed checking up on, if nothing else...
  7. Holdeng


    Full Name: Holdeng Nicknames: None Date of Birth: Unknown; Awakening unknown Age: Unknown Race: Undead Gender: Male Hair: Light and neat Skin: Dead Eyes: None Height: 5'3'' Weight: 123 lbs. Place of residence: Asylum Place of Birth: Unkown Known Relatives: Unknown Religion/Philosophy: No real religion to speak of. Enjoys spreading pain and suffering. Believes in Asylum's goals, follows Villinger's instructions to the letter and seems not to notice his constant failings. Occupation: Chief Assistant to Doctor Villinger Group/Guild affiliation: Asylum Guild Rank: Assistant Non-enemies: Doctor Villinger and a fair amount of Infection's leadership. Likes: Causing pain, physical experimentation, manipulation. Favorite Foods: Never actually seen eating anything. Favorite Drinks: Dragon's Breath Brew (his own recipe) Favorite Colors: Blood red Weapons of Choice: Daggers, stilettos, throwing knives, poisons and venoms. Dislikes: Being thwarted, 'Good Guys' Hobbies: Fishing, Harassing Niethan Physical Features: Lots of heavy scarring, extremely noticeable scar running straight down from his throat to his stomach, and another one circling his left arm just below the elbow. Special Abilities: Can produce poison orally. Positive Personality Traits: Highly intelligent. Negative Personality Traits: Everything else. Misc. Quirks: Is nice when drunk. Played by What Famous Person: Christian Bale (American Psycho) History: Unknown.
  8. For those of you who know who I am, Holdeng is NOT dead. My ISP is crapped out on me and I will be gone for as long as two more weeks. I look forward to coming back and causing more mayhem as soon as I can.