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 Posted: Thu Sep 09, 2010 12:41 pm
A horse galloped through the sand. It had traveled a long way and was tired, but its rider forced it to keep going. It had been close to a week since the horse had left the temperate climate of Learania's port city of Pentheus. Only a few hours at each nightfall was given to recuperate before setting off again. The rider was clearly not the most kind owner the horse had ever had. The only thing along the way that made the rider stop was running into a Mordachean envoy, Vern, that had previously been staying in Sentria to relay information of Mordache's war plans. Apparently, she- well, Vern was male, but the whole being a male Valkyrie thing didn't really register to the rider- was on her way to Pentheus to take charge of the army for a while.
Eventually, the sight of Sentrian ruins appeared in the distance and the rider quickened pace. Soon enough, he was riding passed the destroyed gates of the old Sentrian capital. Brigands jumped up, alerted by the sudden arrival. When they saw who had come, they lowered their weapons and waited until he had passed before sitting back down. Sand was spat into the air to form clouds as the horse was ridden down the main street. As the rider approached the castle, bandits ran down the stairs to greet him. The horse was dismounted and handed off to one of the brigands. It had done its part, the rider didn't care what happened to it anymore.
Now home, Drake relieved himself with a big stretch before climbing the wide stairs. One of his men accompanied him and started going over all sorts of things that Drake needed to know. In return, Drake gave him some orders to take care of- contact other bandit leaders as well as the Shadow Guild, get a force together, rummage through Vern's belongings for information; the works. Once they reached the throne room, the brigand ran off to do what Drake told him to.
Drake passed through the grand round archway and began walking up to the throne. The room was relatively well taken care of, just the way Drake wanted it to be. The sun shone into the room and made the golden trimmings and pillars sparkle. It was a room well suited for a leader and Drake only indulged in the finest of things for his personal use. But oddly, Drake did not look happy to be home. "Great, isn't it?" he spoke aloud. "I know, it's nothing like how it was back when the royals lived here, but I think I've kept it lookin' nice, myself." Once he was a few feet away from the throne, he stopped and glared. "I don't know who you think you are, but..." He lifted his hand up and grabbed the hilt of his blade. "Get the hell out of my throne."
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Posted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 9:47 am
The ancient stories and legends told many tales of the powerful flame sorceress. Pages and pages of thick tomes were devoted to her exploits, and Sentrian wanderers would utter her name even today, as both curse and blessing. The tales said that she had one day come from nothingness, in a shroud of flame, and propositioned the representatives of the Sentrian bloodline - to no avail. No one knew why she had come, but it was fairly apparent what she wanted.
Through a series of events that aren't particularly important to recount at this very moment, the sorceress known as Razevi eventually got what she wanted. She usually did. If her sliver tongue couldn't get the job done, her blades could. Once she had safely secured the throne, it was-- well, actually, it was a matter of opinion how the country fared under her rule, but she thought she did a pretty good job. Then the riots started, and they were ever so tiresome and she pretty much went "whoops, you can have this back." And through another series of events that still really aren't particularly important to recount at this very moment, the flame sorceress faded away for several hundred years.
Some might say it was fate that brought her back to the place she had once resided eight hundred years prior. But, bringing us back to the present...
"Your throne?" she said softly with a chuckle as she lifted a hand casually to adjust the golden mask upon her face. Her gaze seemed to flit lazily around the room, teasing the man with the occasional glance but never really bothering to focus directly upon him, and the winglike horns upon her head seemed to waver in the air, lifelike. "You're Drake, the Serpent Fang. I know you. Mm hmm..."
The hand that rested upon the mask in order to straighten it fell slowly to a place in midair, where it wavered for a moment. Three minuscule spheres of flame illuminated around her hand, and as she rotated her wrist nonchalantly the spheres followed suit, floating eerily around her palm. She still bothered not to look at neither the man nor the flames dancing around her hand, and she spoke again. "It's nice to see how the country has fared without me in the last near-millenia." She chuckled again, seemingly amused by this prospect. "Of course, you know who I am. A woman like me needs no introduction." Finally, her gaze wandered over to his figure, and her eyes greeted him with a sly wink from beneath the mask. "I suppose it must be rather shocking to be in your shoes at this moment. I would be, too."
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Posted: Wed Sep 15, 2010 2:05 pm
With the chance to behold the woman at a closer look, her appearance whispered her identity. The red hair, the heavy gaze, even the nonchalant manner gave clues to who she was. As the woman finished, Drake shut his eyes and smirked. He released the hilt of his blade.
"From golden lands upon the earth
Came a woman strong from birth
"Bring to me the things I seek!"
Said she, once shadow reached its peak
Her rule was powerful and fair
For all did love her or despair
But in her rage a wasteland came
And left one day, no one to blame
But one day soon she will return
And of her fate back then we'll learn
Her spirit lingers in the dark
Yearning to leave her bloody mark
She'll take what's hers. Behold the scene:
Razevi, the Sentrian queen!"
Drake opened his eyes, still grinning, and looked at the woman. "At least... that's what one of the tales says. There's a bit about you in the library, though most of my men either can't read or have no interest in learnin' about the past. There's also quite a nice portrait of you... without your mask." He raised a brow. "Face not agin' gracefully, sorceress...?" He chuckled at his remark, completely at ease despite who was before him. "You know, that incident with the tower may have brought you back, but I'm kind of likin' the way things are. So what exactly are you plannin' to do here?"
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Posted: Fri Sep 17, 2010 6:13 pm
Razevi watched the man bemusedly as he sang the song, her hand still poised in midair as she willed the flames to idly circle. She spoke not a word while he did so -- it certainly would be the ultimate sign of rudeness for a goddess to interrupt one of her followers. So she sat in silence, twirling her fingers around, and smiled broadly once he had finished.
"Singing songs about me?" She giggled. "You're going to make me blush."
She stood up from the throne, willing the spheres of flame into her palm where she then closed her hand around to extinguish them. She took a few steps towards Drake, sauntering, her hips swaying seductively with each step. "I age perfectly well, I'll have you know." The hand she kept poised for her pyrotechnics raised to her mask, which she lifted off of her face for a single moment, allowing Drake a rare glance at the face underneath. "The mask," she murmured once the ornament was back in place, "is merely for show. Something for people to remember me by. It, as you have very well demonstrated, seems to have worked fairly well."
"What am I plannin' to do here," she repeated amusedly, mocking his tone of voice but sounding almost endearing. "Funny you should ask. Naturally, you should know that with or without your support I'm going to take what I want. I would much rather prefer your assistance, however." She, by now, had reached him, and her hand reached over to stroke his face. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Learania is an enemy, is it not? Though my motives, which are of no concern to you at the moment, are different from yours, the end result is the same. Lend me your assistance, and..."
Drake may have noticed an unearthly glimmer of light in the woman's eyes.
"Let the magic happen."
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Posted: Sun Sep 26, 2010 3:06 pm
Drake's heart nearly skipped a beat as the sorceress stroked his cheek. His lips parted and he shut his eyes for a moment to control the sudden change in his breathing. The touch was like gliding silk. It was coercing. One touch was pulling him to do whatever the woman said. Drake didn't want it to stop.
The self-proclaimed Sentrian leader opened his eyes and stared into the glow. An unknown power was attempting to take over his will. As the temptress finished her soothing speak, Drake lifted his hand and clasped the woman's hand that was stroking his face.
He then removed it and smirked. "I may be a man, but I'm not a brainless lackey." He released Razevi's hand and moved passed her. He stepped up to the throne, set aside his blade, and fell into it, lifting his feet and lounging back. "I'd like to work with you, too, but not until I know these secret motives of yours. Give me a shot, sorceress, you might be surprised by my answer."
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