A tall, circular tower in a blissful green feild. There are twenty seven levels, and each one houses the followers who are of a particular skill level. Obviously, newcomers are at the bottommost levels and it goes up to the living quarters of Pha-hu himself on the topmost level. Each level is rough three hundred meters in diameter, and has a sleeping dormitory, a living area, a training area and a meditation room.

All who follow the path of bodily perfection seek it through a rough journey to the tower itself, followed by years of faithful service, training and meditation. Many of them are old when they make it to the tower, and as such rarely live long enough to make it past the first few levels. The ones who live on the higher levels are masters of body control and martial arts. They train constantly in both fighting and muscle and nerve control, able to use each muscle independant of any other.

Pha-hu awoke on the twenty-seventh level of his temple and looked out upon the world. The green field in which the tower stood was resplendant in the noon day sun, and the daisies of early spring were beginning to flower. Turning, he viewed the contents of his personal living quarters. Simple bed, kitchen, lounge. Walking out of his meditation room, he broke the absolute silence with a loud clap. At once a side door opened and one of his followers walked in.

"Prepare the gate. I depart soon"

His men nodded, left, prepared the gate for opening.

Pha-hu nodded. He crossed to his simple bedchamber and donned a simple faded yellow robe, making sure to hide two or three daggers among the folds. He also fetched a carrying sack and filled it with a few cured meats and some bread. Standing once again in the centre of his living area, he clapped his hands once again. When his handservant arrived, Pha-hu said, "Fetch me some masters. I wish for a work out before i leave."

Soon the room was a little crowded, with five of his highest pupils surrounding him, heads bowed.

"My students and friends. You are the best that I have taught, and I now put this challenge before you. I want one of you to land a blow on me."

After a moments pause, there was a flurry of movement. The closest man had leapt into a lunge, balled fist flying towards Pha-hu's head. Simultaneously, another student had pushed forward and slid into a low kick. Pha-hu smiled. He twisted slightly and raised one arm to catch the flying fist, sprawling the man on the floor several feet from Pha-hu. The sliding kick he stepped on top of, using the man's momentum to kick him in the face and push off in a perfect front flip, which planted one of his feet in the back of the attacker's head, the other extended horizontally to catch another man in the chest. Another was next to him almost instantly, and attacked with a flurry of high punches and low kicks. Pha-hu, still falling from the flip, deftly dodged the kicks and blocked the punches, grabbing the man's wrists, swinging them down and watching his head follow, directly into Pha-hu's upraised knee. After applying so much downward force, Pha-hu suddenly found himself upside down, faced with a flying kick from the remaining student. Placing one hand on the ground, Pha-hu spun, first catching the foot of the flying man with his own, then the head of the man with his other outstretched foot. Pushing off and landing outside the pile of men, Pha-hu began to clap. "Well done, my pupils, but you are not ready yet for the ultimate training."

After a small glance about the room, Pha-hu strode out the door and went to the armoury. Closing his eyes, the asked the man tending the weapons to choose one for him. After several moments he felt a round piece of wood being placed in his hands, and he opened his eyes to see a large scythe. Possibilities ran through his head and he said simply, "Thank-you."

From there he went to the gate room. Standing in front of it, he could feel the pulsating power of it, and he ordered his men to leave. Soon the door was closed and he was alone.

"Bring me a challenge" he said as he strode through the gate.

(OOC) Master Divine, send me to some random world.

A thousand lights - the decision to stay within the Realm Supernatural - instinctive, safety, not ready for a truly alien world - disorientation - a shift - a great shift - and finally:

He was there. The world was of ice. Cold winds assailed Pha-Hu as he appeared, the cackling of the Gate behind him. He knew he was still in the Realm Supernatural - but where?

Continue posting in: (Aesin) The Lesser Belvairien

Pha-hu stumbles through the gate and falls to the floor. Knowing that he is home, and therefore safe, he allows himself to pass out.

Several hours later, he awoke in his bed with a student tending to his wounds. Smiling, he said, "You may leave, I am well enough. Thankyou."

He slept.

Pha-hu awoke an indeterminate amount of time later. He was fully healed and well rested, and he celebrated the fact by making himself a cup of tea. Clapping his hands, he asked his servant to fetch his sword. The man rushed off and Pha-hu finished his tea, retiring to his meditation room and beginning his mantra. When he finished the sword was next to him. Good, they knew not to interrupt his meditation. He picked up the sword, removed it from its scabbard and looked at it. Golden in colour, with runes carved into it the entire way up the blade. He knew that it was actually nothing more than a plain steel tai qi sword, but the runes imbued it with the golden colour. The thing that really made it special was the special ringing that only Pha-hu could hear. It spoke to him.

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN, YOU BASTARD, DO YOU KNOW HOW BLOODY BORING IT'S BEEN LOCKED UP IN THAT CLOSET!?!?!?"

Pha-hu sighed. This would be long, and drawn out, but eventually the sword would let up and Pha-hu would strap it to his back onceagain and they would go adventuring.

When it was all over, and the sword was left grumbling instead of screaming, Pha-hu stood with it in his hand, and knew that it was correct. He went through the motions of the Celestial Form, a style of martial art that can only be performed when the weapon is completely attuned to your spiritual being. This went on for several minutes and, sheathing his sword once more afterward, Pha-hu made ready to leave once again. He packed his things, finished the last of his cold tea, and went to the armoury, requesting a set of shurikens, along with a katana and wakizashi. These he strapped to his sash and moved once again to the gate room, which he had asked to be made ready. "Leave us" he said, and the servants looked quizzically at him, but left. The gate was thrumming with life, and Pha-hu walked up to it and said simply, "Bring me adventure."

A thousand screams - the blackness of an age - ancient volcanoes - cityscape - triangles, triangles, triangles - the point and the line -

A flash.

He was there.

(Resume posting in (Tyche) City of Dreams. As we discussed, please don't roleplay your sword)

The Fierce God appeared here, immediately striding towards the entrance. Now stopping to knock, he bashed the door down and walked in, immediately heading up the staircase to the top of the tower, where the Sword would rest.

As the Fierce God rose up the thousand steps of the Temple, he easily slew a hundred guards - martial artists all, their iron skin not enough to protect themselves against the mighty warrior's cold blade. Blood flowed freely down the steps, and though the Fierce God was struck a hundred times with deadly palms, he felt no pain.

At the top of the temple, however, the last warrior was slain, and the Fierce God could only glance towards the sword before he was struck to the ground by some unseen force, red obscuring his vision..

And he was, once again, Max.

Max shook his head. "Where am I.. and why am I standing over a dead body, covered in blood?"

Shut up and take the sword. You'll need it.

Max straightened, then walked over to the blade and took it from it's resting place. As he touched it, his own blade flashed, transforming into an elegant chinese Jian inscribed with golden runes, which seemed to flicker and move subtly; the blade was ever-so-slightly translucent.

Max examined the sword in his hands, then placed it into his Hammerspace. He then descended the stairs, trying hard to not look at the carnage.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Max attempted to commune with the realm, calling to it's seed; the god was dead, his followers were dead, and whole of the place was silent.

When you're done with that, go to the realm of Sura Al-Amun. We need to capture him, so slice off all his limbs, cauterize the wounds, and bring him in. He's an evil bastard who killed a hundred innocents for no reason.

Like you?

No, I had a perfectly good reason. They were in my way.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:32, Fri 23 Oct 2009.

Max was wrong.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, and decided to humour his rampant multiple personality disorder, a sudden strike smashed him in the back and sent him sprawling to the ground face first. He saw Pha-Hu standing over him, looking furious, his hands made of steel. Max knew that he'd broken three or four ribs.

"You waltz in here, kill my people, and steal my things," spat Pha-Hu, anger edging his voice. "For this dishonor you will die a swift and merciless death."

He cringed in pain, whimpering. "Do you really think I could have killed them all without a scratch? ME? And you can search me all you want, you won't find anything of yours on me. All my people are fucking dead, too! And my realm has been destroyed.. and my only friend is dead." Tears slid down his cheek.

He looked into Pha-Hu's eyes. "Please. My life is the only thing I have left. Spare me."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:42, Sat 24 Oct 2009.

Pha-Hu looks down at Max, a sneer on his lips. He'd seen Max slay his people from afar.. saw him change into the viciously fierce warrior.. saw him return..

"I will spare you on three conditions," said Pha-Hu. "Firstly, you return the Blade of Bale. Second, you give me - as penance - the master-sword you were wielding. Thirdly, you never set another foot here again."

"One and two are fine, but the second is unacceptable, even if it means my death."

He drew the Blade of Bale from out of thin air and laid it before him, then drew his own blade, slashing at Pha-Hu in the same movement. He watched Pha-hu's body fro signal that he was going to attack, and avoid it if possible; he would then do everything in his power to escape.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:34, Mon 26 Oct 2009.

Pha-hu grabbed the blade, and threw himself towards Max in acknowledgment of the boy's own attack. There was a clattering of steel, a flashing of sparks, as the two blades met n battle. Pha-hu growled again, slashing wickedly towards Max, but Max was gone - he'd become a majestic eagle, and flew easily out of the Realm.

Pha-hu swore an oath of vengeance.

Max landed, and faced Pha-hu. "Do you really mean to hold me accountable for the killings of a Mad God? I was fully intent on simply leaving, but you have affronted my honor with your oath. I will not give you my blade- for it is my soul. Face me in combat! If I should die, your oath is satisfied. If I win, you must hold no grudge against me. Or there is always the option of me a non-fatal to repay you. One that does not involve surrendering my sword."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:56, Tue 27 Oct 2009.