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 Posted: Fri Jan 11, 2013 2:01 am
 Beyond the edge of this world are shadows. They are the darkness and the emptiness and the void, everything that waits in the dark and covets the light. They wait to be Named.
And you are one of them.
♛ SETTINGThe Black Kingdom is the realm of Shadows and darkness, and is merely an echo, a created place populated by created beings, all of which is warped by the Shadowlord's madness. It is always night here - the sky is full of unawakened shadows. The only light comes through the bright holes like stars, the remnants of where the people of the kingdom have fallen from.
There isn't much of a distinction between architecture and landscape in the kingdom. Everything that forms is a crude mimicry of castle structures, twisting, distorting, and crowned with spikes. They are sculpted directly out of the same material as the earth here - black stone, piles of bones, even pure shadow. The kingdom is impossible to map with any accuracy, as buildings have a tendency to warp in appearance and location without warning. Buildings toward the outer edge of the kingdom can even sink back into the ground, while new ones will rise up elsewhere. Pools of shadow form at random intervals. Everything lost or forgotten can be fished from these pools, generally gloomier than they started - someone's favorite dress, an heirloom watch, a beloved book. Anything can be scavenged from them, and many Shadows have an eclectic collection of secondhand junk that they chose for themselves.
The only truly stationary landmark is the obsidian tower where the Shadowlord resides. Located in the dead center of the kingdom, it appears to most eyes to be a spire-shaped hole in space, jutting with curved spikes. The area here has proven itself mostly stable, and a patchwork castle has risen up around it. It is here, in the center of their world, that the army gathers, and the Shadowlord speaks with his people.
Day-to-day life in the kingdom is much the same as it would be in most other kingdoms - homes, businesses, training, adventuring. Everyone has a life of their own here. Shadows are master craftspeople, creating breathtaking - if entirely shadow - clothing, jewelry, and pretty much anything else they set their mind to. Turning to Tarot for guidance is also an established tradition. Here, battle is an art form, and pretty near and dear to whatever passes as everyone's hearts. The Tournament - and the opportunity to fight for the greatness of the Shadows - is glorified. ♞ DENIZENSThe population of the kingdom is made up of Shadows and Shades.
You awakened when you were chosen by the Shadowlord, Named, and fell from the sky. That Name is not the name you go by, not really a name at all - it's a secret word, the name of a Major Arcana tarot card that represents you, your path, your destiny, your everything. You simply can't deviate from it, nor would you want to - it's what makes you, well, you! You've spent your whole life following that Name, and learning to command darkness and death. You are a Shadow.
A Shadow is the closest thing the kingdom has to a sentient living creature. They are hollow inside, creatures of the void, and from their creation filled with a hatred and envy of the living. Shadows appear much like any other living humanoid, but everything about them is pure darkness. Some even have inhuman features, made of wispy shadow. Accents and details can be in any color. Shadows tend to make up for their indistinct forms with detailed outfits that draw attention to their individuality. Shadows may also have a passive beastform shapeshift. (This is correlated to the creature you were as a halloween/hunter/horseman, except... a lottt more shadowy.)
Every Shadow possesses some power over the elements of the kingdom: darkness and death. Outside of battle, gifted Shadowcrafters can create useful but not battle-durable objects for everyday use, like furniture, or Shades of their own design, though they have no individuality or personality of their own. Shadows have spent their lives honing one ability for battle, allowing them to fight for their King. These powers can take many forms, from the summoning of shadow weaponry, to shifting into a shadow creature shape, to raising minions to fight for you temporarily, to writing runes on a surface with black ink. Some Shadows will even incorporate elements of their associated tarot card into their attack! But when it comes to fighting, you will only have ONE ATTACK VISUAL, so choose carefully.
A Shade is simply a mindless shadow creature of indeterminate shape, sometimes on two legs, sometimes four. They have no distinction, no voice, and no Name. They make up the majority of the kingdom's population, little more than constructs. Most roam the landscape as beasts. Humanoid ones congregate in the buildings and can perform any simple task instructed of them, provided they don't need a face or voice for it. They cannot fight anyone from outside the kingdom, and even the slightest damage will dissolve them into nothing. A Shadow can still take command of any number of them for menial tasks.
NOTE: Hunter weapons and Reaper familiars can take the form of a taking Shade in this kingdom, if you want! They will be a large creature that you can ride around on outside of battle, but can't stray far from you. These Shades are just as shadowy in appearance as your character. If your Shade fights for you, it shares your battle turn, and is basically your Pokemon. You can also solo out how you found, tamed, or created this Shade. It can talk because it shares your Name, and is therefore ultimately only a part of you, not its own separate being.  ♟ RANKS
PENUMBRAL PALADINS (Knights) are the front lines. They are brave and fearless, the first to charge into any battle for the glory of their kingdom. Their courage makes them an inspiration to those who fight alongside them.
GRIM NOBLES (Bishops) are swift of foot and tongue, quick and sharp. They earn their position by strategy, and ensuring they live long enough to enact it. They will often come to the aid of less experienced soldiers, guiding them to victory.
DREAD CLERICS (Rooks) are valued for their attentiveness to their fellow soldiers. They lend their power to the fighters to keep them going indefinitely. Their strength is in teamwork.
DARK HERALDS (Pawns) are the king's personally chosen army of soldiers, whose value has been proven time and time again. Each Herald is in possession of unique skills and endless possibility. Victory in battle will see them ascend in rank.
WANDERING SHADOWS (Wild Cards) are a mystery.
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Posted: Fri Jan 11, 2013 3:09 am
♔ THE BLACK KINGDOM SHADOWLORD (King) - Aymet, played by Astaraei
Aymet is a king whose few emotions are violent in their intensity, and bitterly cold. He treats all his subjects equally, in that he treats them all as his pawns - soldiers created to fight and die at his command. Justice here is swift, harsh, and merciless, and that's just for the people within the kingdom. It is rumored that something was taken from him a long time ago, even before he took up the crown. Whatever about him may have once been kind, gentle, understanding, or noble, has been completely corroded by his obsession with getting revenge. His card is The Tower.ELDRITCH ADVISOR (Queen) - PENUMBRAL PALADIN (Knights) - GRIM NOBLE (Bishops) - DREAD CLERIC (Rooks) - DARK HERALD (Pawns) - WANDERING SHADOW (Wild Cards) -
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Posted: Fri Jan 11, 2013 3:20 am
♝ MIASMA COLOR
The miasma color of this kingdom is black.
[Special Move] MISFORTUNE TELLING
Once per battle, through the motivation of revenge, a Shadow can reveal - and steal - from its opponent's future. Three Tarot cards will rise up from the shadow cast by the targeted opponent and flip to reveal themselves one at a time. The visual interpretation of each card in battle is up to you! They can be incorporated into the battle ability you already have, or be individual special attacks all their own.
Your opponent can consider it their very own highly interactive card reading.
OOCly: Roll 3d6, and generate 3 cards here. (If you want an interpretation, click here!)
Mind - The first card/die. This is the amount you defend yourself for.
Body - The second card/die. This is the damage you do to your opponent.
Soul - The third card/die. This is the amount you heal yourself for.
EXAMPLE:
The king uses Misfortune on an enemy pawn! He rolls 3d6 and gets 1 6 4. He draws three cards from the shadow cast by his opponent - the Six of Pentacles, Strength, and the Eight of Swords.
Mind - The Six of Pentacles. Six circles appear in front of him and form a tower of shadow that absorbs damage before it crumbles. He is defended for 1 damage.
Body - Strength. A shadow lion appears and lunges at the opponent. He attacks the targeted opponent for 6 damage.
Soul - The Eight of Swords. Eight shadow swords stab into the ground in a circle around him and fade away. He is healed for 4 HP.
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Posted: Fri Jan 11, 2013 3:22 am
♜ KINGDOM STATUS
MIASMA: 200/200
Players Recruited:
Players Fallen:
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 2:26 pm
For Shadows, the call to arms was never subtle. It was in the cards, and the cards were all the guidance some of them had in this world. The cards foretold many things, but more and more often they spoke of dangers and trials ahead. And the same one card appearing over and over again, in nearly every reading - The Tower. In the highest room of the tallest tower, pitch-black and windowless, the Shadowlord waited, and listened. A voice - the Voice - confirmed what had been foretold in every Tarot deck in the kingdom, far greater in detail and severity. The smallest smile curved at the edge of his lip. He’d spent his entire existence waiting for this day. The time had come to gather his subjects from far and wide. For single moment the entire kingdom was washed out in light. A bolt of lightning had struck the tower. Change was coming. * His warriors had come from all across the kingdom. The castle in the center of the kingdom had shifted and twisted to accommodate them all, a rare change so close to the stability of the tower. The hall they gathered in today was vast, lit by the pale blue glow of spectral lights that floated above them. Shades attended them, offering food and drink in the form of colorful glowing gems and goblets filled with pure darkness from the shadow pools. Everyone had a seat around the round table here, a seat they had earned in battle, decorated with detailed carvings of their Name and their deeds. The Shadowlord waited in silence until they had all gathered. He rose from his seat to address them. Every word echoed through the chamber. “ The end has come.” “ You are here because you are the best our kingdom has to offer. The bravest, the strongest, the smartest, the swiftest. You heeded the call, and now you must offer tribute. The Voice calls for an army to see our kingdom to victory, and I will deliver it.
An Eldritch Advisor, my proxy, the queen to my king and lord of the battlefield.
A Penumbral Paladin, who knows no fear - only strength, and valor, and vengeance.
A Dread Cleric, who battles Death himself to protect their fellow soldiers.
A Grim Noble, to guide the lost and always see the unfolding path ahead.
And Dark Heralds, to see that we are victorious in all endeavors. Those of us who fall will be avenged at your hands! The future of our kingdom and the end all others rests upon your shoulders.
You have all waited for this day since you were Named. The day we, the Shadows, would finally prove ourselves the one true kingdom and bring all others to ruin. The truce is over! The kingdoms of life and light wait to be extinguished. One by one we will put out their stars and fill theirs skies with darkness.
If you are a coward, if you fear the coming storm, leave my sight and never return.
But if you are a warrior, stay, and prove to the dying kingdoms that Shadows reign eternal!” The Shadowlord paused only long enough to meet the eyes of everyone around the table with his own piercing blue. “ SO TELL ME - who will join the final battle?!” OOC: THE CHOOSING - Welcome to The Kingdom of Shadows. Make sure you read the above guidelines for the Kingdom before you get started. Your character has been ICly gathered to this event (see above) where the King is now talking about the choosing. Your character now has to prove themselves as a candidate for their King. - All Kingdom players will have to ICly introduce themselves, who they are, what kind of character they are and ultimately what services they can offer to the king. Even if you were OOCly "promised" a role, everyone needs to write a choosing candidate speech. - After the King has heard all the speeches and offerings, they will make a choice as to which ones they title. - OOC THIS MEANS even if your characters have importance/ ranking orders, you have not icly labelled them the sacrifices yet. Today is the day you are doing so. - The King is also free to quote players and ask them more questions, etc etc during the process. Consider it a free interaction. - At the end of 24 hours, the King will choose which ones to be his warriors, and of which rank. The ceremony will begin!
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 5:49 pm
[[ entering ]]
She smiled, teeth glittering in the King's tower, sharp and pointed and red like a human's blood, like a collection of rubies set into the blackness of her face. She had awoken so many years ago with a great sob with a sob, her body limp as it fell through the air. There had been a bright light above her, swiftly fading from view as her shape, all wispy and loose and malleable shadow, fell to the ground. She knew, in the depths of her new heart cut from the cloth of blackness itself, that her name was Fool, and that she was a shadow.
Years later (an eon, an eternity, perhaps longer: shadows have no age, no concept of time--), Fool stood before her king, drawn up to her full height, proud to be his subject. The darkness cut across her body with sharp angles, cutting away to reveal the blessed sanguine shades of red, spiral cut around an arm, her neck, her wrist.
She stepped forward as soon as her king was done speaking, the darkness within her roused, swelling, because she had a purpose, now. She had been called to duty by the highest order, pulled towards salvation in the form of service.
"My name," she called, her voice thick and sonorous, echoing in the King's hall of Obsidian, "is The Fool, and I fell from your skies a long, long time ago. I awoke and was the Fool, and she was me, the letters of my very existence pressed into my chest, branded to my core, burdening me with glorious purpose."
She took another step, the red inlays of her shadow-skin gleaming brighter, shifting, glowing like a new flame. They formed a heart carved over her chest, and the shape broke into two pieces, sliding apart, revealing a cavern in which her tarot cards lay. The Fool withdrew one and held it above her head. It was from an oversized deck, larger than her hand, and on it was her Name.
"It may first appear that I do as I wish," The Fool said, laughter burbling up and out of her with the force of castle shifting in the dark. "Most who would know me would say my name is too fitting. I make no living with reasonable trade. I have no crafts or services to provide your kingdom: nay, more often than not, I provide entertainment to taverns and crowds with crude humour. I have few possessions: I carry my every belonging on my person, and my only companion is my trusted Void-Dog of shade, Balthazar."
A hound sat behind The Fool, his tattered ears alert, his shadowy fur completely black without any accents at all. He was quiet; deathly so. No one but the fool had ever heard him speak.
"But you, my King, know this: not everything is as it seems."
Her smile widened, curling beyond the sides of her face, turning into a truly frightening grimace, and the edges of her mouth peeled away from her face. The Fool's hands morphed next, the darkness swallowing up the card of her Name, each finger fusing into a solid spike that took on a wicked curve.
Twin sickles, one for each arm, pointed and jagged like black-glass. She grew in size, and The Fool was no longer a waifish thing, but solid and unforgiving, the sharp edges of her body angled like a well-cut diamond.
"With these hands," The Fool rumbled, "I have made my living as an assassin. Like many of your subjects, Death is the only truth that I know, carved into my soul like a scribe does to numbers."
The Fool's shape shifted again, her silhouette shrinking to smaller than it had been before she'd started, dropping down to four legs, a perfect doppelganger of her faithful shade companion, the red accents that had been fallen-star bright fading away completely.
She tilted her now-canine head, retaining her Void-Dog shape for a brief moment. Resuming her normal shape-- a tall, athletic woman, the patterns of red-orange on her skin reminiscent of a court jester-- The Fool took a singular bow, flourishing her hand.
"Let me serve you as a Penumbral Paladin. You will see no greater warrior since the time before you were a king. I may be The Fool, but you are not, sire. The hours of folly are measured by the clock; but of wisdom, no clock can measure. Every moment before your call has been wasted: do not let me waste it any longer."
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 6:19 pm
[ENTERING]
Shenny felt an amazing, entertaining nothing standing there, as every syncope of the King's speech made its way into her mind. She was hearing the overlord's voice twice: she heard the words with the ears of her own, and an echo of those words, the sheer meaning, inside her mind. It was a familiar sensation, as if the King's voice once was present there, and now just returned to its usual place.
She would say it was cold, but it wasn't. The beauty and the perfection of nothing was the fact it could be anything, and Shenny could spend a little eternity pretending how could she have felt. And then, when she already told herself thousand of stories, copying and paraphrasing the stories and the speeches by other shadows who gathered there today, then, in the middle of nothing, something was born, a storytime: her own story. Shenny blinked. The hall they all were in, the tower where the hall was, the darkland where the tower stood were not just a kingdom; they were an exceptional, primordial truth, the beauty in the eye of the beholder, the object and subject of every desire. Shenny loved her Kingdom, but so did the other shadows, she supposed; she spent eons mastering battle the art of battle, but now for the first and only time in the presence of the King, she realized she and the Kingdom were, in fact, the very single thing, and that was the only meaning she was after. The passion, the obsessive desire was burning inside her, as her card was The Devil.
Shenny stood up, as her turn came, and proclaimed, her face stone cold and emotionless, only her lips were moving as she was an ice sculpture hiding the shadow flame burning inside her: "I hereby swear to give up everything needed for the sake of my Kingdom and my Lord; there'd be not a single thing I won't do for the glory of my Kingdom and my Lord, no hesitation would ever cross my mind. I bound myself to the glory of my Lord, and only the glory of my Lord and my Kingdom I will consider to be my reason and my resolve. My only self is that of my Lord and my Kingdom. My lust, my desire, my passion, my pride and my anger are the arrows of my Lord; my instincts, my obsession and my devotion are the shield of my Lord; my body and my beauty are the blade of my Lord. I would die happily for my Lord, but I don't offer my life, since my Lord already has it, and there's no much value in being killed. Instead I would offer as many lives as needed for my Lord, as I would kill for my Lord and my Kingdom till the moment not a single part of my body can move, and even then I will use everything my brain, my imagination and my mind could offer to carry my Lord's will. I swear to be merciless to the enemies of my Kingdom, and to be most loyal to that of a value to my Lord".
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 6:37 pm
(( ENTERING ))
The temptation to pick up his glass and swirl its murky contents was strong. He forced his back against the chair, staring at his hand as if to command it to remain in place. It was difficult to sit still in his seat, to remain here as more and more crowded in to take their own seats. He held firm, his shifting teal-blue eyes traveling skyward.
He was up there once, a small fry amidst the shadows before he was plucked and pulled. He had been reeled in and Named before being released. The Shadow had made a choice to withdraw from the society he had been Named in.
But now was the time to set aside his preferences. He made a move to stand after the King had finished speaking, sitting down again once the Fool stepped forward. When she had finished he considered his stance, waiting as Shenny spoke her piece. He moved his hand then as The Devil finished speaking, snatching the goblet the King's Shade-servants had offered him and draining its contents. He stood up swiftly, slamming the goblet upside-down with a loud clang! on the tabletop.
"I will join!" He announced, drawing himself up to his full height. It was difficult to tell; the shadows that made him up seemed blurry and constantly shifted. He did not bear many features, save for the shadowy robe and sash he wore around his waist.
The shadow pushed the hood of his robe back, revealing a plain face with lines that indicated a half-skull grin. His eyes glowed unusually bright. "My Name is the Hermit," he announced, "For outsiders, I have taken on the name Merope, after one of the stars that glitters in shadows. I have wandered your kingdom since being Named, observing its people, the stars, and shadows. I have dived to the deepest depths of the shadow pools and have recovered artifacts both mundane and unique in appearance. I have studied these, I have traded these, and I have killed for these. The simple form you see before you is not my true form."
The Hermit stepped away from the table. His shadows seemed to blur even further as he stretched out, growing larger and larger before his form came to surface. It was difficult to separate him out from the shadows that made up the throne room. In fact, it seemed that the shadows around him grew deeper. That is, until he opened his eyes. His eyes blazed like a lantern as a pattern mimicking abstract lines and bone formed on his hide. His bestial form was that of a sea dragon: his body was long and built for swimming, complete with long fins that were presently tucked against his hide.
He bowed his head towards the King. All in all, he wasn't a large dragon. He wasn't bigger than a horse. "As Fool had wisely spoken before, not everything is as it seems. I am not that strong of a fighter; my strength lies in speed and surprise. When an opportunity to strike presents itself, I take it to catch them off-guard." The Hermit tilted his large draconic head to one side, watching his king carefully. "Strength alone may serve well to topple a throne, but it will not do anyone well if the throne crushes your foot in doing so."
His shadows blurred again as he resumed his humanoid form. "My King, my Shadow is yours to command. I lay before you my humble offerings to be worthy enough for the title of Grim Noble. My experience with artifacts will surely prove invaluable, they may hold the secret to dealing with the living." He nearly spat at the last word, adding, "However, my King, I will be more than pleased to be a Dark Herald should my skills prove to be more useful on the front. I shall do as you command, my King. My Shadow twists and dances to your Light."
The Hermit gave his king a long, low bow before retreating to his seat. He paused long enough to right his chair, belatedly realizing that he had knocked it over in his haste to rise.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 7:03 pm
((Entering!))
The fall had been the best and worst thing she could remember. The terror of the plunge, the Making into something new and great. She observed for now, her eyes taking in everything while she did what she could to give nothing away. It was a trick she had learned from her craft. One must be patient while brewing the most potent of poisons, or else haste could render it all for naught. The wisps that were her hair crackled and swayed, all but twisting with pleasure as The Fool made her grand and beautiful entrance. Bold, that one, and deadly. She had always favored poisons that were much of the same.
The Devil did not mince words, and The Hermit said enough to make her purse her lips with consideration. That one had wit, but it was impossible to tell if he would be of much use. Then again, did they not all have their uses?
Whatever her name had once been, there was only one that suited her now. The Hierophant rose, her golden eyes burning as fiercely as any flame while sinuous strands of shadow danced about her face. "My King," She intoned, curtsying deeply before she stood tall once more, her gaze offered for no one except her lord's. "For you, I give all. I am named The Hierophant.""
Her form shifted then, growing taller, shadows dancing before they solidified. The shadow serpents lashed in fury upon her head, baring fangs that would never glitter. "I deal in poisons, my King, one of the truest arts. So many different results for each. Sleep, paralysis, or sudden, painful death. Each is carefully brewed, for each serves its own, unique purpose. People are not so different, my King."
Her stare was proud, but The Hierophant bowed her head in respect for the Shadowlord's greatness. "Allow me to serve you as a Eldritch Advisor, my lord, so I may better use my talents for directing, for deciding which way would be most effective. I am as deadly as I am quick, and I will give myself to you utterly in order to serve. The role of a Dread Cleric will also suit my talents well, but ultimately, whichever way you think I will serve you best, I shall do so without question."
Smoothly, she bowed once more and took her seat.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 7:04 pm
[ Enter ]
Metal boots created an echo with each step the figure took, each step drawing him closer to the king. He arrived beside the one called "Fool", and knelt down before the Shadowlord, a hand placed over his chest.
"My liege. I know not where I come from, nor where I plan to go, but this I do know. I am the one called Chariot, representation of war, strife... victory. I conquer enemies, overcome obstacles, tame beasts. I can accomplish whatever I set my mind to."
He slowly stood, and as he pulled his hand from his chest, a small dark pendant formed. He crushed it with his hand, and let the dust drop, forming into shadows and swirling around him.
It formed the word "Chariot", and dissipated, reforming into two steeds, one dark as night, the other white ash. Each gave a whinny, and soon they too faded.
"I symbolize control, the balance between two opposing forces. I embody discipline, the will and ability to control emotions, to fuel revenge, and aid us in victory to war. I strive for nothing but excellence, and I assure you that with my skill, the other kingdoms shall fall."
He raised a hand, fingers curled towards himself, showing off 3 shadowy blades protruding from his wrist.His lips curled into a wry smirk, flashing teeth, seeming sinister and assured.
"My Lord. Let me fight alongside you as a Penumbral Paladin. With me as your warrior, we shall prove ourselves as the one true kingdom."
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 7:12 pm
[[ Enter ]]
The one who would be, in other circumstances, Amarus, stood in the castle amongst the others and waited for the appropriate time to speak. The right time, the perfect time. As far as one could be comforted by shadows, Amarus-called-Judgement was comforted: the darkness, the emptiness, these things made her feel at home. Not that there was any choice. The kingdom was home, by default. In this life, Judgement was her calling, the name given her from the Major Arcana.
Amarus-called-Judgement stood, pushing her chair back slowly to accomodate her movements. "My liege, my King," she began, "I have longed for this moment, longed to vanquish all who stand in our path: I am Judgement, and I know no fear. My perseverance is unmatched," Judgement boasted, crossing her arms over her chest. Though her form was that of a Shadow creature, indistinct in places, silver bells braided into what would normally represent her hair rang whenever she moved. The sound heralded her coming, wherever she might go.
A black hood obscured whatever else might hide there, though the lower half of her face was decorated with a brightly embroidered cloth mask.
"As a Penumbral Paladin, my existence has always been dedicated to the defeat of my enemies: should I be of service in that regard, I would be more than pleased to carry that mantle. However, I have long walked the fringe, observing: As a Grim Noble, I would be adept at walking the shadows for your sake, planning the path ahead so that our footfall may be sure and true-- so that none of our own are left behind. In unison, our power is greater."
Amarus idly traced glowing runes into the table's surface, scrawling out a message difficult to read at best; her battle prowess was not demonstrated easily for parlour tricks. When she created active runes, they were meant to pass judgement.
"Our foes will know the devastation of Judgement, as delivered from the darkness," she promised, with a sweeping bow, before taking her seat again. She turned down all drink and food, watching the others at the table carefully from beneath her hood.
[[OOC: Okay, wow, I managed to post only half of it, one second OTL Editing the rest in so that this makes sense... Done = x=]]
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 7:20 pm
((Entering))
From the shadows he had been drawn. The draconic figure wavered before forming a more humanoid form. A temporary form, he would take for now.
"I am the Wheel of Fortune" he stated boldly, firmly, "Though others may know me as Jericho. It would be no greater honor to serve you. Do as you will with me. I am yours to command."
The shadow then turned and joined the others, grinning as he took his place. The truce was done with. A great war was on the horizon. Good. He had been itching for a fight for some time. And now, dusk was soon to befall upon the world.
Only the night shall remain.
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 7:29 pm
Night had been flicking back and forth the many strewn paths to his king's kingdom, sometimes he did it to save the time of wasting energy to keep his form, others was to haunt the other shadows, one that had lost their ways to the kingdom.
Sometimes if they were lucky, he sent them right on the path to the king, giving them a wide cheshire grin followed by lime green eyes. And sometimes, if he was bored he would pick one of the weaker ones and play the mindless lost game, leading them so far away that lost would the last of their worries. It was always a cheshire grin and green eyes though that would haunt those travelers, even if kin to his kind.
Finally though, the shadow cat made its way to the table where others sat, flicking back and forth. Purrs could be heard followed by the soft sound of awkward chuckling and disappearing form leaving the smile and eyes to dance in its seat.
Of course the kitty wanted to volunteer for his king, oh what fun it could have just playing with the other kingdom weaklings.
“What fun~ What Fun~” Night chimed as he flicked his legs out on the table, for once his form solidifying into that of a cat boy, youngish and purely innocent looking the light black armor covered his tunic of shadows... and if not for that look in his eyes, it would seem he might've been too young for battle. “I hail from the Arcana of Wheel of Fortune, King.” Night's ears flicked as he moved, “I feel like offering myself for that role, what was it again~~~” Like a cat with yarn, he batted at the air. “Let me one the guide us into victory, and let me guide the others to their doom.” He got up on the table edge, palms resting on it, a crooked smile full of malice. “Let me show them the path of demise, Let me be the Grim Noble for you King.” His ears flicked one more time. “I love to play those games...And we will leave the rest up to luck won't we?”
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 7:37 pm
[[Entering~]]
Next, a female of smaller stature stepped forward and bowed her head. She did not seem intimidating at first glance at all, but it wasn't until she spoke that her presence was solidified. Her voice was sweet in the most unsettling way, laced with a lower tone that should never naturally coincide with each other. It was a common theme with this girl it seemed; the unexpected. "My lord, the day has finally come for me to present my services to you. My name is Strength, or for those of the lesser kingdoms Whisper, and I am here to serve you as one of your loyal Penumbral Paladins. I have know this is my task since the moment I fell to this plain. However, I will become whatever it is you see fit of me. It is my duty to serve and follow your command until the moment I breathe my last breath."
Loyalty was of the utmost importance to her, and she could not understand how this was not true for everyone. All citizens of their kingdom should be here, laying their lives before their king. She knew this would always be her path, so Strength had trained tirelessly. She needed to be the best she possibly could in order to defend her kingdom and secure the throne for her king. This was her time. "Allow me to show you what I can do my king."
She bowed once more, before moving into a stance that looked as though she was bracing herself for an impact. Shadows swirled around her hands, solidifying into long clawed gauntlets, to which she proceeded to strike powerfully through the air. Once she showed her proficiency with her weapon of choice, she let the gauntlets disappear and the shadows burst out and consumed her. Her form shifted into that of a large beastly hound, with long destructive teeth and fearsome claws. She started with a low growl, escalating it into a blood curdling howl. She had to close her eyes to focus on dispelling the shadows, as the longer she stayed that way the more she didn't want to change back.
Strength managed to regain her composure and stepped back. "Thank you for your precious time my king."
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Posted: Sun Jan 20, 2013 7:54 pm
((Entering)) Justice – or Aezeloth when the mood struck – watched as the others spoke. His ambition was simple, and though many spoke poignantly, some bombastically in his opinion, when he felt the time was right, he pushed back his chair deliberately, and rose to stand. His eyes cast about the room, sizing up those who had spoken and those that had yet to raise their voice. “My Lord,” he spoke clearly, loudly – but not shouting, just loud enough for his voice to carry through the entire room so that all could hear his words. “I am called Justice, and it would please me greatly to serve you as a Penumbral Paladin, driving your enemies before me and crushing them beneath my might.” The shadows around him formed into a long spiked chain, which wound around his body. “But, should you see fit not to use my might, let me stress that my brawn is not the only thing that I have to offer. My mind is sharp and well suited to tactics and strategies my leige, If a Penumbral Paladin you do not find in me, perhaps a Grim Noble, so that I might drive us to vicotory in your name!”Dismissing the chain back to the shadows, he bowed deeply to his lord. “I will answer the call in any way my lord requires, I am his to use.”With his piece said, he slid back into his seat, picked up a goblet from the nearest shade, and pulled a long drink.
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![[A.V.]'s avatar](https://a1cdn.gaiaonline.com/dress-up/avatar/ava/8d/f2/221070ca3ff28d_flip.png?t=1546143856_6.00_11&pl=15)
