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 Posted: Sun Dec 09, 2012 6:52 pm
Rokan Tartanius Drop after drop, blood spattered against the floor, creating a small pool where the rats sipped cautiously on the slowly dripping fluid. A small rope, though it was strong for it’s size, suspended a heavy weight, making small groans of complaint as it was strained to hold such a heavy load. Suddenly the rats scurried away, out through numerous holes that had been diligently gnawed upon until it was of desirable width. They fled in fear for yet another approached, staring down upon the corpse hung so neatly within the cellar. “I assume this is his war priest…and advisor.” Rokan growled, though regardless of the angry gesture his voice seemed still apathetic and cold. Pressing his leather boot onto the shoulder blade of the suspended body, the assassin turned the brute of a man about, receiving yet another groan from the nearly overwhelmed little rope. The bulk of unanimated body turned so that the pack leader could view the pale features of his groups’ latest slaughter, taking in the various aspects of the being as well as scowling at what he thought was a poor cut over the man’s throat. “Yes lord Rokan, Worshun…Arkadius’s advisor and high priest of Mordin.” Without otherwise acknowledging the man, the assassin nodded his head in recognition of the name. The man had been a key role in the Grand King’s rise within the realm, for Aroch was by far the only Kingdom left who stood a chance at defending themselves against the armies of Dokoro. With their eminent demise, it would not be long before the Tyrant could direct his blade to the south, and conquer the next hemisphere he’d set his eyes upon. “What seems to be the matter?” The lesser assassin asked from beneath his black hood. “Nothing,” He answered, for he had taken upon himself a somewhat gloomy appearance in his mind’s absence. “It is a simple matter of mimicking the man’s actions. I believe I will find it far more difficult to copy the living tendencies of a man who is dead.” The phrase caught the assassin’s attention, and even behind the thick dark cloth that wrapped about the Cerberus Pack member’s features, one could tell that he’d raised an eyebrow at his leader. Among the scent of the fowl drying blood of the putrid corpse, Rokan stood, turning to face the younger shadow with a face no longer his own. His entire form had shifted to the bulkier frame of the war priest, just as he turned around, mimicking every feature that Worshun had displayed in life. “Nothing at all.”
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Posted: Mon Jan 14, 2013 6:23 pm
Rokan Tartanius "Arkadius Markus...king of the Iron kingdom..." A bald man smiled widely, stepping forth to greet his old friend with a cheer. The man wore long draping yellowish orange robes, which seemed to shiver at his very step, which likewise shook the countless jewels and medals that hung from nearly every edge about his attire. The plump fellow was clean shaven, and weak by appearance...seeming the exact opposite of the hulking warrior that stood before him in the feasting halls of the Warbearer's Castle. "Zertan, please sit....we've much to discuss." Arkadius offered in return to the councilmen's greeting, allowing the sarcastic halfbreed to slouch into a scarcely cushioned piece of furniture. The brute then slumped down into his own seat within the feast hall, his armor clattering and scrapping, cold iron against the rough texture of his metal plates, more loudly than any crafted in all of the Iron Kingdom. As Markus then began to stroke his woven beard about, his servants began to pour in through the openings to the feasting hall. The servants were as one might expect from the nobles of a land bordering upon the barbaric. They stepped about wearing scarcely any clothing suitable to noble women and many hand prints could be seen upon them, stains of dirt where the vulgar warriors of the Iron lands might grab at the young women. Even so clad in the meager garbs however, they were no less deadly than the brawlers within the streets of the kingdom, thus likely every print upon their body by a man's grip was a sign of yet another hand lost to rot among the grimy floors of Warbearer Castle. The food itself was more plentiful than Zertan had seen in some time. A fully roasted boar dripping in a coat of gravy, as well as assorted limbs of the hunted beasts chopped and organized into the varieties of meat, and even as the High council men of Tenzonokit stared down upon the bounty set briskly before him, Arkadius took a large gulp from a glowing beverage which spilled over the brim of his goblet down over his long braided beard. "Elemental's Blood..." He explained, "only the heart of an elemental holds any significant amount...but they say drinking it gives you power." Arkadius smiled. "And indigestion." Zertan responded swiftly, sending the brute into a howling roar alongside his companion and spattering the glowing fluid over the tablecloth. The bald man chuckled at the joke himself for some time before the head of the city council managed to regain his loose composure, but regardless of the good tempered interruption the Iron King continued upon the same topic as if to drive a point. "Yes good... ah that is good. They say the blood of a fire elemental gives you strength...earth endurance, wind speed, water fertility." His voice traveled though somewhat muffled beyond the peculiar selection as Arkadius guzzled down the remaining liquid. "Ah... Light give purity...and the rare elemental..." He paused, his chain mail shaking slightly, sounding like a man made rain in short. "Yes?" Zertan asked, feigning interest in his old friend's history lesson...which of course he already knew. "And what does the shadow elemental's blood give?" He asked in his high voice. "Betrayal..." Zertan nodded, confirming what he had already read countless times in the decaying scrolls of Tenzonokit's libraries. "Those who drink it's blood become so cold, like the ice of Titan's cage that through all the seven planes...they care for none but themselves. And so, they betray their comrades, their friends, their families...all to get what they want...." Arkadius nodded, his tone becoming low and monotone. At the gesture, yet another servant stepped forth, holding a goblet filled with a lesser amount of fluid so as to hide it's contents. The king's adviser then removed himself from the shadows of the stone columns, his boots striking the ground loudly as he made certain that his presence was known. Another man, pushing aside the poorly embellished wooden door to make his way into the hall stepped forward...Ochiru Bache...the Mountain Troll who had claimed the head of a Hydra for his own prize in the arena. He alone among Arkadius's men found it most difficult to squeeze through the opening, leading some to believe rumors that he was in fact in part a mountain troll. His glare now digging deep into the council man's heart, the plump fellow's eyes darting between the two of Arkadius's men frantically...nervously,then the Iron King set down his cup. "Do you know what I see...in your cup...Zertan?" He asked, the servant woman now placing the goblet before the councilmen. Hesitantly the head of Tenzonokit leaned forwards, his eyes lingering upon the brim until he could see what it was that lay within the rather large dish. His eyes watered as Zertan dared not to blink, and even before he could witness what was beyond the lip of the small item he knew what he would find beyond, the weak man could not stop his heart from sinking beyond his gut as his eyes met with the liquid at hand. Within the goblet...a bubbling blackened fluid sat like poison awaiting it's victim... "Now you know why I called you here." Arkadius scowled.
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2013 10:18 am
Rokan Tartanius "That's preposterous, you accuse me of betraying your trust?!" Zertan roared, though his voice shook nervous with every note as he pondered what the brutal king might do. "I do not accuse you, I convict you." Arkadius responded, slamming his goblet into the table and removing himself from the thick wooden seat. "Worshun has provided me with more than enough proof of your crimes against Aroch, your knights in their varying armor have been making their way past our borders unwelcome striking against my own men in large force. Unfortunately however, as their banner flew they failed to witness the survivors who crept away." He snarled, walking over to where the council men sat down only to take hold of the robes he wore just bellow the collar in a grim hold. "My brothers of war, my soldiers, my citizens, you expect that I would stand by as you stabbed not only they but I in the back." The Iron king asked, spitting upon the bald man's face to receive a disgusted expression. "We've ordered no attacks, no raids, nothing...what more proof do you need then that I came unarmed to this council?" Zertan asked the brutish man, raising his hands empty in the air as he attempted to press the point further. "He wishes only to save his own neck, and buy time to weaken your forces for the war to come..." The king's right hand man, Worshun spoke out, a cruel expression displayed menacingly upon his face. "No no, terribly sorry but that's not.." Zertan attempted to argue. "I'm tired of hearing you babble." Arkadius interrupted, lifting the councilmen into the air by the collar. Suddenly his arm exploded into motion, thrusting the poor weak man across the room towards Ochiru Bache, where the Mountain Troll's hammer collided with Zertan's back. A sickining crack could be heard even from across the room, as the bald man's feet scratched at his head for just the moment. Zertan, the high councilmen of Tenzonokit then fell to the floor... "Until now the only thing our cities shared was peace...now they will share war." Arkadius spoke to him, as Zertan whimpered of peace onto his death. **** "Iron Lord Arkadius, I must ask leave momentarily. I have some duties to attend to elsewhere." Worshun asked of his king, taking to a knee upon the grimy tiles of the Grand Hall. "So be it, I've done all that is necessary to end Tenzonokit's cloak and dagger affairs. Just pray to Mordin that we shall succeed, and I'll prepare our soldiers for the glory to come." Markus responded, though the foul expression he wore spoke far less of the glory he had mentioned. Worshun would not linger upon this however, taking a long stride in his path as he detached himself from the road the mighty king took. Making his way through the shadows of another corridor...Rokan removed the thick heavy cloak of the war priest. "I think I should pay the Grand King a visit..." the master assassin chuckled, his dark deed performed without the slightest hesitation.
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Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2013 1:07 pm
•LucielMontoya•
▀ ▄ ■ □ □ ■ ▄ ▀
 ❀❀❀❃❃❃ ☸ ❃❃❃❀❀❀
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☸ Standing in the rafters within the shadows, a shadow figure would be noticed if one where to simply look up, it was this very figure that watched the fighting within the arena, that calculated who's bets would thrive and which would fall. When she crouched down to place her slender fingers to the mental pole that she easily balanced herself upon, the light hit against her yellow and cream colored outfit, one to that of a jesters. A smirk formed on the luscious lips of hers, followed by a delightful chuckle.
☸ "My, my, my. Everyone is scrambling for their lives, they cheer on for the blood, as though a sacrifice was being made to the gods above." She spoke in her cooing tone. She then, with grace, and ease, made her way down to such a battle field to interrupt the on going battle to make an announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen I now found a life purpose......." The crowed laughed as she skipped her way around the two bulky sweating men who glared at one another. "And that's to make your bets faulty...." Luciel added as she whipped out her chained dagger and began to move with all haste.
☸ The first man made his move while she back flipped into the air, darting her dagger to the mans jugular, with succession, it was able to grapple the fighter. When she landed, with great ease of force, she twisted her body to the right, to pull the grappled man, and lung him to his opponent to knock him down. The jester than pulled her weapon back with great force, to pull out the blade from the males neck, and continuously whip at the two, ripping their backs open, leaving devastating wounds. Their cries only fueled her to create deeper gashes until their nerves would go into shock. One of them eventually passed out from the pain, while the other managed to catch the end of her whip and pull her in, the crowed booed at first thinking they were going to loose their bets they had placed on the original intended fighters then cheered when the other caught Luciel.
☸ At first she struggled, but then she went along with it, the sight of the mans blood excited her in every way, her body tensed against his, though unfortunate for him, she was a natural contortionist, flexible and double jointed. She forced herself against the warrior which caused him confusion, she began to twist her bones in different direction, mean while let out small moans while licking the blood off his face. Once she was able to slip away, Luciel then bit upon his cheek, with such force that when she pulled herself out of his grip, the woman also tore out his cheek. When the man scrambled on the floor with a gurgle of a scream. Luciel laughed before deciding to end his pathetic life with a simple slash to his throat. The crowed went back to a roar of cheers some booed others went about their business. Soon the court guards came to inform her that the king had summoned her. Luciel was wondering as to what type of summon, either way, she pulled her top down a bit to show off a little more skin before following the guards back inside.....
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❀❀❀❃❃❃ ☸ ❃❃❃❀❀❀
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Posted: Thu Mar 28, 2013 10:19 pm
•LucielMontoya•
▀ ▄ ■ □ □ ■ ▄ ▀
❀❀❀❃❃❃ ☸ ❃❃❃❀❀❀
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☸ Down the hall, the many turns they took, the corrupted woman was getting rather irritated. So, with what she would call "easy", Luciel used the guards as leverage by pulling on theirs arms enough to lift up her legs till she was upside down, then swiftly wrapped herself over to the left guard, working quickly to snapped his neck, then quickly turned out of the way to the other guards blow, jumping off her first victim, and drop kicked the other, out cold. Now she stood in front of the two guards and simple smiled.
☸ No one could truly capture her, in fact, she has yet to find one who could truly tame her. There is one who is close to it, and that's the king of this city himself. The thought of him made her skin jump in temptation to just leap into his arms. Shaking her head, Luciel quickly acted and thought to break free of her ball and chain and head for a new location. To..."spread" her fun.
☸ With that, the crazed woman laughed aloud as it echoed through the halls, slowly coming back to silence as she left the scene.
Heading to the docks, Luciel jumped aboard to a ship that just untied the bounds and was leaving the port. The one man jumped back emitting a high yelp as she just stood over him with a foxy grin. "Why hello there." She cooed back at the man. ((EXIT))
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❀❀❀❃❃❃ ☸ ❃❃❃❀❀❀
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