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 Posted: Sat Feb 09, 2013 10:42 pm
◣→Freedom→Has→Its→◥
◣Price→◥  ❦ Under her little green hat, the young female heard the word "spire" being spoken out, with her pointy ears twitching to the familiar voice, she quickly turned in the kings direction. At first she squinted her eyes to see, only to sneak up to the cell. Realizing who it was, she gasped, forcing her hands over her mouth. It was him, that man from when she tried to rescue, or at least poorly attempted.
❦ "C'est vous! Vous êtes le roi? Je pensais que tu sois un homme du peuple!" She harshly whispered, which means, she's whispering, but straining her voice for him to hear, but not loud enough for the guard to. However, she realized that was her own language, in turn she hit the side opf her head and let out a sigh. Feeling a bit mind struck for lost of the common tongue.
❦ "Excuse me....You be the king? I thought you were someone else..."Trailing off for a moment, she remembered the formal ways of her nation. To stare royal in the eyes like she was, she would have been struck blind. In which she took a few steps back, and quickly bowed her head, to stare at the dust to the hard ground below her. "If you wish it, I can heal your wounds...." Charlotte offered in her way of apologizing for her incompetence.
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Posted: Sun Feb 10, 2013 6:21 pm
King Lucheston SorrianThe Silver KingThe king laughed at first, hearing the spire speak in strained tones to him so as to not alert the Hunters. He was a bit rusty in the languages of foreign lands, but thankfully a translation into the common tongue was soon to follow. "You can relax young lady, the Hunters do not waste their efforts in guarding the cells themselves, only the exits and entrances to the dungeons, and though I would value your formal traditions elsewhere, you will undoubtedly hear sooner or later of my own ascension, and realize that I am born no higher than you." Lucheston explained, kneeling so that their gazes could meet one another on even footing. "When I was a boy, it was far more respectful to look one another in the eyes as equals than to gaze at the ground as if in shame." With a knowing smile, Sorrian turned to face the woman who had accompanied him to his cell. "This is Elle, a loyal citizen of Garnoff whom I have had the pleasure of making an acquaintance. She was brave enough to protect my new daughter from the savage army that Skyron has raised. I on the other hand am as you have come to expect of me. I am the Silver King of Garnoff Lucheston Sorrian." The words were spoken as if catapulted from his chest to carry across the distance to those who would listen. Without fear they traveled, without shame they roamed, without room for retreat they bellowed. "I am honored by your offer to assist me in my time of toil, but should my wounds become entirely healed then my good friend Enzo would be blamed. It would not do me good to see his head on a pike, especially by my own son's hand." Lucheston spoke the words with a sense of disappointment, for he had failed to raise his offspring with the honor he had inspired within the other of the two. He could only move to solve this lingering dilemma however, therefore he refused to linger. 
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Posted: Sun Feb 10, 2013 8:37 pm
Safira De'Garr  Safira followed them out, her step moving a bit slow as her wounds held her up. She didn't respond to the Count's efforts. She didn't like being beholden to any man, regardless of how much the Count had already done for her. She thought of what he'd done to heal her...but she hadn't asked for that or officially accepted his help, so it wasn't the same thing.
The king was worse than she thought as she got to the cell. His injury was as bad as it had been before. But he spoke easily enough. Safira could see why he had risen to the throne. He spoke bluntly and truthfully. She glanced at the girl he motioned to. She was so scared she was practically shaking. Seeing the woman's gaze, Elle was quick to stutter out a defense. "I...I merely hid while she used my form to escape." She backed up against the cell wall as if she could become a part of it. The girl clearly didn't want to be in the spotlight, so Safira turned back to the king. "But when we go to fight, the people need a healed leader to rally behind." She said firmly. She silent for a moment before adding quietly. "But we need to wait until then." She looked around the empty corridors, hoping the king was right and the Hunters would stay at their posts.
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2013 8:46 pm
IvonKeir ◣→Freedom→Has→Its→◥
◣Price→◥ ❦ The hairs on the back of her neck rose when his voice boomed with radiation. This man was defiantly powerful. Surely it may not appear so now with this situation, but in his voice, one would not doubt that he was of great honor, a true man of his own word. One she could see herself serving for. In her moment of anticipation, all she was thinking Where do I sign up? The thought of fighting for peoples rights, by the side of this king, surely he wasn't her lord but she would rather have him be her king than her enemy. It was obvious that after his grand escape and closure that his greatest enemy will rue the day he defied him.
❦ However it confused her on how he could not escape, surely she could be of use in....well practically every way. Charlotte looked up to this man with a light blush, no not as in a crush, but more of admiration for such a kind man. The woman who may have wed him is a lucky lass thats for sure. She then scooted herself closer to the iron bars, being that iron itself could kill her but more so burn her flesh, she was gonna let this man go. "You're free....more so than you know..." Charlotte smiled to the king before starting to carefully pick the lock, even went as far as placing her left hidden point ear to hear the clicking and gears slowly turning. c***k! With a harsh exhale of relief the lock fell to the cold floor. Charlotte stood, opening the iron gate, luckily for her, she wore gloves, practically all the time. She then motioned toward the king, taking off her right glove to move her gentle hand over the kings previous wounds, and finished the healing process.
❦ Thanks to this Enzo fella, the wound was minor, enough for her to finish the damaged skin to close up. Charlotte quickly placed her glove back over her delicate hand, the thought of seeing her flesh scared her in a weird way. She suppose it reminded her of the past times of being a slave for those creeps. But, alas, that was a long time ago, a past hard to forget. After the glove was back on, she motioned back outside the cell and waited for the king as well as the maiden to follow. "I will not take no for answer." The young Spire added with her right hand lent out towards him.
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Posted: Sun Feb 17, 2013 9:23 pm
The Count Of Monte Cristo  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"He can not yet leave." The Count spoke up. "The false king will know something is going on and our jobs become much harder. Lucheston I am sorry, but you will need to remain in this place for a while longer." The Count began pacing. "Lucheston, is there anyone particular I should try to contact? sure the people and the silver knights are good allies but we will need far stronger friends."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"You ether die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."
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Posted: Fri Feb 22, 2013 6:57 pm
King Lucheston SorrianThe Silver King"Reports have returned of our most recent encounter Lord Skyron." The red plated Hunter proclaimed, kneeling before his king as he spoke in his most humble manner. "Fourteen of the Silver Knights have been found dead, three citizens, two casters....." He paused, the progression of his speech delayed by the sheer weight of the words, one which his tongue could hardly bear to lift.
"And?" Skyron asked, leaning forward and nearly toppling out of his father's throne as he inquired about the final list of casualties. The peculiar appearance of the majesty's gaze seemed to the knight one of both fear and anger, perhaps even anger of that fear. Still, the Hunter eventually managed to muster the bravery to utter the words that had been spared for so long from the false king.
"And...sixty three of our own....sixty three Hunters." The words no sooner broke loose from the bindings of silence than did they twist the expression upon the embellished noble. Fearing for his life, the poor lad began to shake noticeably before the Sorrian, though the boy took no notice.
"Shall we visit your father, my king?" Momolla offered, stepping forth from behind the royal seat. "So many of your own, yet so few of his....and even less so from our citizens. It sounds like something he might do." She mentioned, nodding in the direction of the archway which lead down to the lower levels of the castle.
"Either that or yer Hunters can't fight fer knoxing anything." A captain clad in the silver of the Elite Knights interrupted, smiling towards the queen as he removed his glimmering helm. Momolla's eyes squinted then, her nose scrunched in an ugly manner and her entirety appearing as if she'd just met with a cloud of fowl fumes, breathing deeply from her nostrils as she flicked back her stringy blonde hair.
"And what is your name? Sir?" She asked, making an attempt to appear mildly polite in the face of contradiction.
"Pordas, Sir Pordas of the Elite Silver Knights. Captain of the West Gates." He reported, taking upon himself a serious tone, though he would not accompany it with a serious stature.
"No, I believe your name is simply Pordas, Pordas of the dirt of every road way of Garnoff." She spat, returning his serious tone with a more elegant posture.
"I don't believe you're in a position to demote me milady." Pordas informed her, remaining as calm as ever, despite the queen's rising temper. A long pause filled the room, the two forces glaring at one another... and though Momolla Sorrian attempted to exude an aura of fierce rage the gesture merely drifted past the apathetic soldier.
"Then I believe I am..." Skyron offered, standing from his seated position to face the knight aside his mother. "The heir and king of Garnoff may remove any rank, any class, any moment he so pleases." The young lord put in, placing a single foot forward for every emphasis upon his power.
"Then I'm glad," Pordas announced, arising a confusion among the crowd which appeared to nearly have bowled the False King over. "If he were here I might be in trouble." He laughed, arising a number of withheld outbursts from several of the standing soldiers about him.
"Would you like me to execute you?!" Skyron roared, his temper rising far above the silver crown which sat atop his head, cutting the distance between he and the knight in half. Without a moment's hesitation the Elite Captain took stride forwards as well, removing the remaining distance between the two.
"Would you like to try?" Pordas asked, his voice brimming with gruesome intent. Sweat broke loose from the Sorrian's brow, rolling down his unmoving features as he glared upwards into the knight's threatening eyes. "You cant even make the call can you? You know how that would end....I'm here standing next to you, hostile intent flooding my veins like a river in a storm...yet your Hunters haven't moved an inch. So...would you like to try? I'd certainly like to, it'd be fun to waltz around the kingdoms of the North spouting tales of how I spilled the false king's guts... and your men are just standing there, waiting...not for a moment to loyally save their highness, not to find some moment where my back is turned and their blades can get close enough to touch me....they're waiting...to find out who will be paying them next week." The knight then took a few gentle steps back, the red king appearing paralyzed before the group of onlookers as Pordas revealed just how weak Skyron could be. Still, none had been filled with fear and dread as much as the queen Momolla herself, she stood pale and drenched in sweat, appearing as if she'd fall unconscious within a moment's notice. "Fourteen to sixty three...I like those odds."
"Lets..." Skyron began, looking around towards each of his Hunters one at a time. "Lets pay my father a visit shall we?" He spoke at last.
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Posted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 3:00 pm
Mikal walked briskly down the corridor, his footsteps echoing around him. He made his way to the dungeons, pausing to tell the guards. "His Highness is coming." He said in the most authoritative voice he could muster. The Hunters straightened up considerably. He moved passed, trying to make it look like he was on business for the crown. He heard voices as he came closer to the Silver King's cell. There were people standing around. "What are you doing here?" He hissed quietly. "Skyron is coming and if he finds you here, you'll find yourself on the executioner's block." He heard footsteps coming towards them. The Hunters were checking up on things. "Hurry, go now." He said, motioning them out of the cell. He shut it, looking at the timid maid girl in the corner. Skyron may not execute his father, but with the mood he was in the girl could be in danger. He opened the cell door again. "Come with me." He said, holding out his hand. The girl's eyes widened. She tried to stammer a reply, but failed. "I won't hurt you. But Skyron might." She nodded and followed him out. He bowed to the king and escorted her away. The Hunters, absent-minded guards they were, had left.
Mikal walked down through the corridors, till they ended up outside. The girl grew more nervous as they got closer. "Don't worry, I never would have made it to the Knighthood if I was not a noble man. Where does your family live?" Elle wrapped her arms around herself. "In the village outside." She replied. "But they don't have the money to support another." He nodded thoughtfully. "I have a home outside the barracks. You can stay there." Elle smiled gratefully, but it soon faded. "There's still much danger." She said in a near whisper. She looked around furtively, although a faceless Knight and a nameless maid didn't gain much attention. "Then we must be brave." He said with confidence.
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Posted: Sun Mar 03, 2013 2:07 pm
The Count Of Monte Cristo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Count listened to them speak and turned back to Lucheston "We have to go." The Count said as he began hearing footsteps it was a long hallways and the steps would echo but they could take no chances. The count began walking to the exit they had come in. It was a longer walk then he thought it would be but as long as Lucheston did not go past Lucheston's cell, and as long as Safira and Charlotte were not far behind they wouldn't have to worry about speed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"You ether die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."
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Posted: Tue Mar 05, 2013 7:54 pm
partymonk44 King Lucheston SorrianThe Silver King((Sorry about the lengthy/crappy post, I haven't been able to muster the proper words, nor story building capabilities that usually make my posts worth reading.)) As his comrades departed, cautious in the presence of the tyrant Lucheston had once called son, the silver king took to leaning upon the cold stone walls of his cell once more, appearing by no coincidence to not have been as greatly healed as his friend Enzo had left him. It came only as a small surprise to the fallen king when his child had actually crossed the horizon of his sight, entering the area to peer into his cell with the bright flickering light of numerous torches. "Lucheston...." Skyron began, addressing his father in an impudent manner as if he were never more than the peasant he'd lived as before his reign. "If you wish to grasp my attention, you now have succeeded, but should you ever wish to grasp my sympathy, my assistance, my pity... you will need to address me more properly." Suddenly, as if wounded by the sharp words of his father, the false king growled, stomping forth to take hold of the slender bars that separated the two proud men. "Father!" Skyron roared, finally receiving a glance from the seemingly apathetic older man. "The trolls which have run over the city, when did you call upon them?" He asked, accusing him as if it were simple fact that Lucheston himself had called the invasion upon his own arrival. Smirking and appearing to be filled with sarcasm for the time being, the king remarked in a simple and calm tone. "Well a few stumbled down towards my cell, and I called upon them to open the door...but as you can see here now, my words were wasted." The Silver king retorted, waving his hands in the air to gesture at the humorous intent of his words. "You - " Skyron began "No! Listen here boy, I'm not certain where it is that I went wrong in raising you...perhaps I should have taken the time to thrust you into the streets to live on bread crusts for a week or so to keep you from spoiling, but to think that I would raise such a fool is nearly beyond me!" Sorrian stood abruptly then, his hands weaving swiftly through the bars of his cell to clasp about the fluffy garments worn by the foul prince, which so greatly contrasted to the fallen king's own rags. "If one citizen died, if a single soul reaches the upper planes, if one single man among my own has been wounded during battle...why would I bring such tragedy upon them? Think boy, think so that your mind cannot be thought for...by Tyrants" He began by gesturing towards his own cell, "Greed" He continued, waving a hand in the direction of his own wife, "And jealousy." He proclaimed, pushing away the red armored Hunter who'd wandered to close to the pair. For a long moment Skyron simply stood there, staring off as if caught by some distant view. Soon however, his attention returned, facing his father with a single ounce of rage though it was accompanied by the appearance of slight wisdom. "My thoughts are my own....and mother is no more than a guide to assist me... You and brother are hindrances to my rightful reign, and I must see to it that these people can welcome the king that they deserve." He proclaimed, breathing hard with every syllable. "Step out into the streets of Garnoff...go ahead and try that for a day. Walk about with no knights, no hunters, no armor.... See how well you fare." Lucheston began, staring deep into the eyes of his son. "The streets are damaged, terror fills the lives of our good people because you could not keep them safe....Trust has died because you proclaimed that their loyal king had betrayed them....Our enemies now fall upon us for they believe that the new king is weak and inexperienced.... One day among the people, no higher than they...and you will hear just what they believe they deserve...." With his final words, Lucheston turned and walked over to the back of his cell, leaning against the wall before slouching into a restful position. It appeared as if the Fallen King would not fight for his throne, though in truth he had just dealt a critical blow. "All that has been done can be forgiven with time, for few have suffered thus far. Let it continue however, and you may never see the day when peace returns to your life." Doubt....the thoughts showed clear in his eyes as Skyron turned away from the cell himself, his guards accompanying him as he marched them through the dungeon halls away from the damp underground fortress. The False King would soon fall...
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Posted: Tue Mar 05, 2013 9:45 pm
The Count Of Monte Cristo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Count finally reached the streets of the city again and he looked around. The aftermath of the troll attack was worst then he had expected but he had not expected much to begin with. He was glad the false king was prideful. That way Skyron would not go poking around to see who had stopped the trolls, he would assume it was the hunters.
Monte Cristo, Safira, and Charlotte were back to the start, they would rally the people. But he had a new card to play, the trolls served as a good tool, he would use it. The very first thing the Count did when they were free was start spreading the word. Skyron was weak and scared, trapped in a corner by a tyrant king. At this point the people held more power then him and all the hunters. He did not want to admit it but he needed to rest. He would let Safira and Charlotte do whatever they wanted to do, it was not his business what they chose. He would work, and work until he was free of the plague that cell had put back in his mind. Luckily he knew everyone who would be able to spread information fast, he would start with them then move to the less credible sources then to the downright liars. The Count wanted everyone spreading the word. Then he wanted to sleep. Something they all needed. Skyron's reputation had been wounded by the troll attack and his weakness to stop it. So the Count then spread word that Skyron had done nothing and it was the people fighting that defeated the trolls. People were cocky, they would begin to think themselves better then Skyron, as long as they would be able to bow to the rightful king, a king of their choosing when the time came, he would be happy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"You ether die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain." (you set that post up for a fall when I read it I was surprised because of that. It is not as bad as you may think.)
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Posted: Mon Mar 11, 2013 12:17 pm
Safira De'Garr Safira used the opportunity to slip out. The Count was already heading off, to do something for the revolution. She was left standing around awkwardly. The Hunters were even lazier than she remembered, hardly bothering to keep people in check, save to mess with various people that suited them. There were a few that remembered her and so she was left alone. Worse for them, because she intended to continue in helping the rebellion. She wasn't a soldier, no, but she knew how to read people. How to plant seeds of distrust. She spent the afternoon in the market, placing herself near various people and dropping hints here and there. Nothing terribly incriminating. Questions, mostly. "The troll attack was terrible. But the Hunters did a good job, didn't they?" It reminded the citizens how well their new king's forces didn't do. It was incredibly passive-aggressive, but before long old women were talking in hushed tones about how badly everything was going, how horrible it was that the people had turned against the "true king". The conversations grew hushed when Hunters walked by, but picked up the minute the loyalists were out of ear shot. She retreated to a pub to do the same. Only their conversations were more louder, spoken in drunken slurs. She could only hope that the Hunters that heard didn't care.
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Posted: Mon Mar 11, 2013 3:59 pm
The Count Of Monte Cristo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Count had continued with his work until he began hearing rumors that he had not given out. "Well done Safira..." He whispered to himself as he moved into a pub. He could hear all the rumors circulating. They had done it, doubts had been spread. Sadly that was not enough. Sure they doubted their king but that did not make it certain they would be loyal to Lucheston again. They had let Skyron takeover before, there was not guarantee they would not let another person take over.
They could do little about that. When the rebellion would come Lucheston needed to show he was as great a warrior as the people believed he was the first time they chose him. The Count did not see that as a problem what he saw as a problem is getting everything to start. As they had seen Lucheston had the support of the Silver Knights, the people had doubts about Skyron but that did not mean they would completely rebel. They needed an event, something truly outrageous. Something that showed Skyron thought himself above everyone else, something no one would stand for. But what? What event could have such an impact? For the first time in his life the Count did not know what to do next.
The Count looked around at the people in the pub and noticed one person he was glad to see. He had not been happy to see many people after they left the cells, most were hunters or simply targets of gossip. The person he saw was smarter then that. The Count walked over and sat down next to her. "How have you healed Safira?" He asked getting the most important question out of the way first.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"You ether die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."
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Posted: Tue Mar 12, 2013 1:02 pm
Safira De'Garr The young vigilante was surprised to hear a familiar voice speaking next to her. She'd been so intent on her duty, and the drink she ordered, that she hadn't noticed the Count coming to sit next to her. At his question, she lightly put a hand on her stomach. "I will not be fighting for a while, but walking is no longer a hindrance." She looked over at him, thinking of the rumors she'd heard started that weren't hers. "I hear you've been busy." She said nonchalantly, taking a swig of her mead.
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Posted: Tue Mar 12, 2013 3:55 pm
The Count Of Monte Cristo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You just have to know the right people. Well technically they are the wrong people because they don't keep secrets." the Count said as he ordered a water. He didn't drink often and when he did it was only wine. "It is good that you are okay." The Count said looking at the table. He took out a small knife and began carving something into it as the though. One man came by about to tell him to stop but the Count tossed him a gold coin and went back to carving. "We are making great progress but..." The Count fell quiet. "great progress." He repeated.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"You ether die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."
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Posted: Tue Mar 12, 2013 4:05 pm
Safira De'Garr Safira had made a point in her life not to take interest in people's personal lives. She needed to know only the crimes of those she was going after and how much she would be paid at the end. Keeping as little interest as possible was the smart way to go. But as the Count had already divulged much of his history, which was as tragic as her own, she couldn't help but feel a growing interest in him. And so moments like these, when it sounded like something was on his mind that he wasn't saying, she couldn't resist the nagging urge in the back of her mind. "What is it?" She asked quietly. She looked down at what he was carving, as if he was growing to draw out his problem on the table.
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