King Osirus
Knights of Osirus
King of Alyssus[/u][/i]
Slayer of Shade, Imprisoner of Innocence
Posts: 48
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Post by King Osirus on Oct 14, 2007 12:27:17 GMT -8
He had called this gathering so quickly, not many had even had time to prepare for it. It came to some as an elegant note of white paper, fancy hand writing, and a red ribbon. To others, it came in the form of a dirty, starving messenger boy. And to those in the castle, it came from the very King himself. He had demanded a dinner banquet of many people, even to some who seemingly had no real significance in his court. But he wouldn't take no for an answer and to most, they were too frightened beyond sanity to say no. So, Osirus had organized the largest dinner party even without his close adviser knowing about it. He even did it right under the Queen's nose.
The dinner hall was a long, volumnous hall with a fireplace at each end. Both fires were big and roaring loudly. Three banquet tables had been placed together to form an incredibly long dinner table. In fact, it was so long, it had to have four different runners of a matching color. The long table cloths had to have their ends well hidden so that it looked flush. All in all, there were about fifty plate sets, eighty forks and sthingys, fifty wine goblets, hundreds of handkerchiefs, and more food than could actually fit on the table. There were ten servants waiting patiently at even intervals of the tables. At the most northern point of the table, four large chairs were placed. The King's chair, the Queen's chair, a place for the Princess, and even one for Prince Eros. At the most southern end, placed before a chair adorned with shackles, was a place set for the Prophet Camine.
In between these two points, other places were set, but for who? For the most wealthy of the families and merchants of Du Aurella. A place for Nikanoru was placed on the right of the King, on the left of Prince Eros' place. Even a place for his new General was set. Heavy candles were lit, making the room heavily shadowed. The dragon heads hovering each fire place didn't help the gravity of the shadows, their stuffed mouths wide open and their tongue extended into the air.
Already the King was there, sitting in his chair with an eager smile on his face. His fingers trailed up and down the cool shaft of the wine goblet, his long hair falling elegantly over his shoulders. His bright crimson and black attire matched his cruel smile as men piled into the room, their faces slicked with sweat despite the cold. They were nervous beyond all reason as they took their seats, quickly giving the King nervous exultations. A young maid girl walked in holding Prince Eros' hand, leading him to his seat. He didn't dare look his father in the eye as he sat, his hands in his lap.
Behind the King, on the left side of the large fireplace stood Israfel at attention, his hands behind his back, his black eyes drawn straightforward. He was fully dressed in his usual armor, save for a set of what appeared to be shields at his back molded to look like wings folded in. The markings under his eyes were as black as night as he stared blankly ahead of him, his emerald hair brushed and well cared for. One might have thought he were a doll, save for the rising and falling of his chest.
As the King waited patiently for his seats to fill, he glanced at Eros and winced, as if looking at him caused him pain.
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Post by Lord Nikanoru on Oct 14, 2007 16:36:27 GMT -8
Positioned between the King and Prince was the terrifying, unscrupulous Lord Nikanoru, though he didn't exactly look the part. Nothing about his attire was any different than it usually was; he still wore the same dark, tight-fitting robe and matching cylindrical hat combination. The difference lied not in his clothing, but in his expression and overall demeanor. Gone were the intimidating air and dark scowl he perpetually carried with him, replaced by satiation and sickliness. The wicked advisor seemed to be but a shell of his true self; something about him was obviously off.
Why had he even bothered to show up? Nikanoru knew that he was quite ill and certainly wasn't fit to be attending a feast as grand as this. No, he wasn't afraid to say no to the King; in fact, he was one of the few people in the Knights of Osirus that had the guts to. Why then? Because not once in his entire career had he taken a sick day, and he didn't plan on starting now--especially at such an important feast. In his mind, only weak and pathetic maggots took sick days. If anything good could be said about Nikanoru, it would be that he was very dedicated.
His heavy brown eyes drifted round the series of massive tables. His vision was somewhat blurred and distorted by whatever he had contracted, so he could only make out the people at the two closest tables. The newest member of Osirus' ranks--General Kairai Takashe--was sitting relatively close to the King and his courtiers, looking as psychotic and frightening as always. Queen Marcelle was sitting right next to her husband, seemingly in a jubilant mood, but obviously that could change at any second. He spent a full three minutes looking around for Lord Remarque before remembering that he was out on business.
"So," he addressed his liege, his normally sharp voice feeble and weak, "I can tell that you decided to go all-out in celebration of the impending fall of Gurella--at least that's what I'm assuming this grand feast is in honor of."
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Princess Naahra
Knights of Osirus
Princess of Alyssus[/u]
The Pet of Queen Marcelle
Posts: 49
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Post by Princess Naahra on Oct 15, 2007 4:38:33 GMT -8
Slowly, silently, like a ghost, the princess of Alyssus entered the Dining Hall, first approaching her father and embracing him tenderly, then to her mother, planting a small kiss upon her cheek, then to her brother, whom she hugged tightly, her sisterly love for the prince obvious. Turning around, Naahra's beautiful sapphire blue skirts rustled as she walked to take her place beside her mother, her footsteps making no sound at all. As she settled down within her chair, she turned around sideways to take a look at Israfel, whom she decided that she would no longer call the Grass Man. After all, he was under her father's control now, and there was nothing to do but respect...and love...him. Slowly, she turned back to face the long table, the sheer size of it making her eyes widen slightly. Then, like a ton of bricks, something hit her.
"Father..." she started, her voice light and airy, almost making her sound like the wraith she portrayed, "Why...why are we here tonight, anyway?" It was an honest-to-Nocens Atrum question, since she hadn't been told anything at all. As she awaited an answer from her father, she leaned sideways, resting her head on her mother's arm. One ghostly hand reached forward, brushing an onyx lock from her eyes as she closed them, allowing the warmth of the room to surround her. Whatever the reason was...it must've been important...
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Adrian "Dulcimer"
Order of Lumen
The Klutzy Spy
You wanna try my locust soup?
Posts: 20
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Post by Adrian "Dulcimer" on Oct 15, 2007 9:59:09 GMT -8
Coming to this castle was bad enough. But actually having to sit down and eat with the King and his cohorts was like a living nightmare that no one would want to dream, let alone live out. But here he was, dressed in his best and trying to look like he was enjoying himself. But the tension in the air was so palpable, you could cut it like a hot knife through butter. Tonight, he was not Dulcimer, but Adrian. Adrian, the son of a wealthy weapons merchant. He was here on his father's behalf (like always) because of Osirus' cruel deeds. Because of Osirus, his father suffered a crippling disease that no medicine could cure. This disease, used as a threat, also inhibits the man, so Adrian must be the house head. He was the one who had to deal with Osirus directly on behalf of his father's business. It was tiring and frightening work, but Dulcimer always appreciated the information he collected while being Adrian.
Adrian had come into the room shortly after Princess Naahra. He took his seat on the opposite side, four seats down. The castle was extremely cold, even with the two large fireplaces roaring like a midsummer night's bon fire. Upon sitting, he placed his hands in his lap after giving the royal family a respective bow. Then, his senses clicked on and it didn't take a genius to pick up on what he could. Like, for example, how sickly Lord Nikanoru was looking. Adrian was pretty sure the King didn't know or didn't care how his adviser was feeling. Adrian could also see that the Prince was feeling very uncomfortable, nervous and all around unhappy. He couldn't blame him. Prince Eros seemed to be the single one around here not radiating pure evil. He could also pick up an every single fat and skinny merchant man's nervous habit. And sadly, he could see Naahra was not at all like her usual self. He had always admired her beauty and kindness even when fighting against her father's corrupted powers. But something had changed.
Osirus ignored all questions thrown to him, even by his own adviser. He merely continued to stare at those who walked in. Catching Adrian's eye caught on his daughter, Osirus cleared his throat; the sound echoing in the silent room. It made Prince Eros jump.
"Adrian La Fayete. Do you wish to say something to my daughter?" Osirus asked. He smirked. This act of good will was strange for the King as he never allowed much of anyone to speak to his family during a large gathering like this. He wondered just where Draken would be striking from. Below? Above? Behind? Either way, Adrian would die tonight, as would others sitting here before him. Why? When a pack becomes too full, or when food begins to run scarce, a leader must expel or kill the weaker underlings to preserve the strength of the pack. That's just what he was planning. But he would not start yet. They were still missing a few very important guests. Namely, his General and the Prophet. He wished for Camine to see...or wait, he can't. Osirus chuckled inwardly. Well, he'll just have to listen to blood being spilled...
Adrian's heart leaped into his chest when the King addressed him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came from it. Closing his mouth, he swallowed and shook his head sightly. "Um...no sir, well...I mean, I just wanted to say good evening is all sir," Adrian said nervously.
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Draken
Knights of Osirus
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Posts: 79
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Post by Draken on Oct 15, 2007 15:35:41 GMT -8
"Don't be late now..."
Osirus' words echoed like a swarm of bees in Draken's mind and he sprinted down the corridors towards the dinner hall. He had been late waking up from an afternoon slumber, then had to find his knives, run them down to the smith to be sharpened, then to find some somewhat decent clothing so he at least looked like he belonged at the banquet. On top of that, he also had to run down to the apothecary for some poisons though he didn't think he would need them, but an assassin had to be prepared for anything to happen.
"I won't fail you again."
The last remnants of sunlight laced the sky with ribbons of pink and purple and a dull orange glow by the time he was out of the alchemist's shop in town. By the time he arrived at the castle, it was very dark and he had lost track of the time. Draken came to an abrupt hault at at the dinner hall. After catching his breath, calming his nerves, and giving himself one last check to make sure he had his weapons and all was in order, he quietly entered the noisy hall. He was relieved to see that the banquet had apparently not started yet and his amber eyes traveled across the tables, searching for the victim- the one called 'Adrian'. Aside from his wings, Draken looked well-camouflaged. He wore loose fitting silken garments as black as the void, all clean and untainted with a single bloodstain. A silken sash is tied around his waist, the hilt of a concealed poisened dagger poked over it just slightly. A leather belt with elegant designs etched into it secured the sash and dagger. His youthful face was clean and his hair tied back loosely, save a few locks. To finish it off, on the middle finger of his right hand was a silver ring inlaid with a blood-red garnet and at his neck he wore a carved bone necklace decked with the same kind of gems. His overall appearance- not too flashy, but just enough. Of course, he didn't aquire these items from generosity or hard work; instead he got a special five-finger discount from a traveling merchant. Yes- all from the same merchant. His eyes caught onto Adrian's with a bloodthirsty glare, then slowly traveled to stare at his King. Rather than taking a seat, he stood on the sidelines awaiting for Osirus to start the banquet all the while contemplating on how he would carry out the assassination.
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Prophet Camine
Prophets of Alyssus
Does it look like I care?
Posts: 10
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Post by Prophet Camine on Oct 16, 2007 18:06:59 GMT -8
At the door, the announcer poked his head outside with a small look of surprise before falling back into his normal neutral face. Quickly he moved away from the door and took a few steps away from it so he would not get hit as it opened. He raised the thin gold staff adored with colorful jewels and slammed it down twice to catch the attention of everyone in the room. The sound resonated throughout the room like a cannon being fired twice and echoed eerily until it faded. He cleared his throat; “Presenting the Prophet of his royal highness; King Osirus Vice Valhalla the VII. Prophet Camine Sha Kirill.”
The doors swung open slowly, revealing a group of four guards dressed in full plated body armor with swords at their sides. In the center of the small group, stood the blind prophet who had a small mysterious smile on his face. His hands chained in front of him, his eyes closed, his body surrounded in an intimidating aura that made his guards wriggle uncomfortably. Slowly, the group made their way towards the king, their pace slow and as much as they wished to move faster, the prophet refused to move any faster then the pace he had set, it was almost as if the prophet wanted everyone’s eyes on him.
Within minutes, they were in front of the king and his table and bowed, all except Camine. One of the guards tugged on the chains to make him bow only to have the chain slapped against his face and receiave a eyeless glare from the blind man. “I bow to no man, of all the people here, Osirus should know that.” Camine stated loudly as he turned to face the king. “Don’t you?” he asked mockingly as he allowed the guards to lead him to his seat at the far end of the table.
He sat down elegantly as he allowed the guards to chain his wrists to the armrest of the chair and his ankles to chains attached to the floor. A small hum escaped him as milky blue eyes peeked from underneath white lashes and looked at the king. Despite him being blind, his eyes always met their target dead on and stared into Osirus’ eyes challengingly. “Sometimes I wonder why you even chain me down in a chair at your table when you have no intention of feeding me. Sometimes, I even expect you to chain me against the wall but you have no intention of doing that since you do not wish to show your barbaric side to these idiots.” He smiled cheerfully before facing the room.
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King Osirus
Knights of Osirus
King of Alyssus[/u][/i]
Slayer of Shade, Imprisoner of Innocence
Posts: 48
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Post by King Osirus on Oct 17, 2007 8:35:16 GMT -8
"Of course, Camine. I know better than to force a blind rat to bow when he can't even see the floor. Don't want you to break your pretty little nose," Osirus answered as Camine mocked him. Osirus chuckled loudly. Finally, all of the actors of the play had assembled. Now it was time to start the performance. Osirus chuckled and as Camine was chained to the chair. Why the chains when the fool could hardly see what was in front of him, let alone try to run away? Was it merely for aesthetic reasons or did he have a valid point? Osirus was very much well aware of the powers of a Prophets. But he did not need to take the chance of Camine suddenly gaining a new ability in which he could transport himself, or have anyone else transport him. A safety measure. And it looked good. He liked seeing chains locking oneself. Chuckling, the King stood.
"I know none of you have the slightest idea why you're here. I've called this quick feast as an invitation to dine with me one last time." Osirus paused. As he had suspected, the merchants all looked at him oddly, but none of them grabbed the concept. Osirus smiled and held open his arms.
"You are all men of rich families and prominent businesses and I wish to thank you for your hard work with this wonderful feast my chefs have prepared. For your diligence and honesty, I wish for you to eat to your heart's content! Drink of my finest wine, eat the fattest pig, and consume the sweetest fruit," Osirus said, clapping his hands. Then, a large parade of servants entered the room placing bread, cheese, roasted pigs, pheasants and sugared fruit on the table. Goblets of wine were brought forth and placed in front of the men. Osirus sat and as a servant brought the King, Queen, Princess, Prince, General, Adviser, and Prophet wine from a different platter, he took his wine and smiled cruelly. He lifted his wine glass.
"Cheers to those men who make Alyssus run..." He held his wine glass up. The men held theirs up and then drank deeply, as did Osirus. All men, except for one. The one Osirus knew wouldn't drink or eat. Adrian La Fayete. In the years he had dealt with the boy, he had always been careful enough not to touch anything Osirus had offered him. A smart boy. Osirus knew Draken was in the room. He knew that soon, he wouldn't have to deal with Adrian any longer.
"Now, to business...I'm sending an army out to destroy Gurella..." Osirus said in a rather conversational tone. That's when the men looked at him oddly.
"B-but sir! Surely you know the ramifications of doing something like that!" "Yes, m'lord, fighting Gurella would mean taking on Amblethorn and other small communities! We would lose all mineral shipments, not to mention the fruit trade, rice trade, and wool trade! Sir, you cannot be serious about abolishing Gurella!" "Your soldiers aren't prepared for battle in Gurella! They're not trained for sand battle and the heat!" "Lord, we cannot win against those barbarians! We've never touched Gurella and could never do so in the first place! What makes you think we can do it now?" "We can't provide services for a losing war!"
All the while these men spoke, Osirus could only smile and stare at them. What foolish pigs. They would soon learn what it meant to be under the King's wrath. As the men continued to talk, he held up his hand for silence.
"This isn't a debate. We're attacking in two days time, take note Takashe," he nodded to his General. This simply put the men over the top. Several stood from their seats, their faces red with anger and yelling words in which Osirus chose to ignore. Namely, threats about not supplying Osirus' fool hardy army. Osirus then turned to look at Camine.
"And you will do everything you can from keeping Bassette knowing about this," Osirus demanded.
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Draken
Knights of Osirus
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Posts: 79
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Post by Draken on Oct 17, 2007 20:19:22 GMT -8
Draken watched without emotion. He was here only because he was ordered to, he couldn't care less about the war, only about whether Osirus gave him food and shelter. To do that, he had to satisfy every task that popped into the King's head. And this is what he demanded.
After one last supply check, Draken strode to the other side of the table in a slow, sinister gait. Assuming this was his cue, amidst all the chaos he went unnoticed under their noses to position himself behind Adrian for the kill. He stood at his post, gripping the hilt of the concealed poisened dagger and planned his attack; a deft stab to the gut accompanied by the toxic liquid would cause a suitible slow-and-painful death. Suitable for the King and assassin at least.
Finally, the dagger slid noiselessly from its sheath. A tendril of the thick, foul smelling black poison dripped from the blade to the floor. The toxin was still fresh- it would dissolve throughout Adrian's veins faster. Draken's left hand snatched Adrian's shoulder, while his right bearing the dagger came around him, then sank into his stomach with a swift stab and half-twist for extra blood loss.
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Princess Naahra
Knights of Osirus
Princess of Alyssus[/u]
The Pet of Queen Marcelle
Posts: 49
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Post by Princess Naahra on Oct 19, 2007 6:38:17 GMT -8
As the servant brought the platter filled with wine glasses, Naahra took one of them, staring into the contents of the beautiful silver goblet. This was the first time she'd ever been offered wine... Staring down past the goblet in her hand to the stone floor, she allowed numerous thoughts to cross her mind. When would she get to go back to the Blood Chamber? When would she get to beat the life out of some other helpless soul? When would Laties return for her? When--wait. Laties?!
Ever since her reposession back in the Blood Chamber, she hadn't thought of that devil-may-care ex-general. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of him, and she just wanted to leap up and curse him with every word she'd overheard from the knights. Instead, she simply muttered something inaudible and took a sip of her wine. As soon as she took the goblet from her lips, her eyebrows rose in obvious surprise. Apparently she liked the wine. After all, it was very good! But, then again, with her father being the King and all, the chance of getting a bad-tasting wine was slim to none. Her gaze slowly turned from the wine in her goblet to the stone ceiling.
It was there that she first saw it...
Nine beasts forming a circle around one larger beast. From the larger, nine long tails stretched out, entangling the beasts circling it. From where she was sitting, she could barely make out the beasts her imagination conjured: a wolf, a tiger, a phoenix, a dragon, a snake, a horse, a rabbit, an eagle, and a lion. In the middle with the nine tails was a sort of fox. She had heard of these kind of beasts before...what were they called? Kitsia...Kitsarar...Kutsine...Kitsune! Yeah, Kitsune!
After recording her little 'vision' in her head, her gaze dropped to the floor again. She knew once this was over, she was going to have to draw these!
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Takashe
Knights of Osirus
Vagrant
Posts: 8
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Post by Takashe on Oct 19, 2007 18:23:55 GMT -8
Having been sitting in the presence of royal officials and aristocrats ever since the beginning of the banquet, General Kairai Takashe wasn't exactly in a good mood. In fact, he was so aggravated and testy that, if someone were to accidentally bump into him, he would viciously beat said person, regardless of gender, age, or status. Hate and anger were boiling within him like hot water. And he made no effort to hide his seething fury, either; his handsome face was distorted by rage, features twisted and frightening.
Now Takashe was never much of a people person; actually, it would be safe to say that he hated almost everyone. A racist, sexist psychopath, he judged everyone according to his warped standards. There were only a few people in the world that he actually liked, such as the royal family and Lords Remarque and Magrace. Everyone else was frequently subjected to his wrath. But he hated the elitist aristocrats most of all. Nothing more than a bunch of obese, worthless fools who relied on others to fight for them! And he was surrounded by them! It made him sick to his stomach.
His obsidian gaze traveled round the table, eyes flaring with malice as they fell upon worthless noble after worthless noble. Oh, how he longed to cut every last one of them open and watch their entrails pour from their flabby, out-of-shape bodies! How he desired to watch the light leave their eyes as he brutally murdered them! One woman in particular caught his attention: a morbidly obese hag flirting with a rather attractive servant. A positively demonic smile crept onto his full lips as he imagined all the horrible things he could do to the woman. Takashe yearned to scalp the wench, bite the flesh from her ugly face, stab her eyes out, and throw her deformed body to the dogs!
Lost in his sick fantasies, he didn't even notice the ongoing debate. The psychopathic general was in his own little world of pain and torture—a world where he could unleash all his disturbing, violent tendencies. And he knew very well that his dreams would soon become reality, once Osirus sends him to Gurella to have some fun with those desert barbarians. Thoughts of beating those sand animals to death danced in his sick, sick head.
"Sir? Would you care for some wine?"
Takashe looked over at the servant girl and gave her a disturbing, disturbing smile, causing her to flinch in response. "Oh, yes, I would. And I'd also like to have your ugly f**king head on a silver platter, so that I could see how many pieces I could carve it into," he said, ripping a steak knife from the piece of pork on the plate before him and pointing it at the terrified girl. Scared out of her mind, the girl set the goblet of wine next to the general and ran off at Olympic speed.
That twisted smile of his grew considerably when Osirus announced that they would be attacking Gurella in two days time. He returned to his fantasies of doing unspeakable things to the poor Gurellans, once again completely separated from reality.
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King Osirus
Knights of Osirus
King of Alyssus[/u][/i]
Slayer of Shade, Imprisoner of Innocence
Posts: 48
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Post by King Osirus on Oct 19, 2007 19:23:56 GMT -8
Smirking, Osirus chuckled gently at the rather cruel interaction between his General and the servant girl. Takashe was already proving to be a very valuable asset. With the mad General on his side, Osirus knew that his battles with the Order would soon be over. Sending Takashe to Gurella would be like pitting a lion against a rabbit with a broken leg. It was a releiving thought and one he would celebrate this feast for.
Or, that's what he thought until his plans went careening right off a cliff. His smile faded into one of untrained shock as Draken struck early. Now, chaos had set in. Adrian was a quick boy, and if the dagger had hit home, Osirus hadn't seen it. All he knew was that there was sudden movement and screams now echoed in the room. The merchants were jumping from their seats, not a single one of them touching their food as they screamed for their lives. Idiots...
"Draken! What are you doing!? You're too soon!" Osirus roared, but his voice was drowned out by the screams of the men and women in the room. Already, panic was setting in. Men were leaping over each other and scrambling over the table to get away from the assassin. Goblets went flying, wine splashed, and food became airborne. As a glass plate came at the King's head, he simply swung his arm out and smashed it aside, but not before a goblet of wine spilled on the Queen.
Prince Eros gasped loudly and threw himself under the table. The yells were like hot knives on his brain as he struggled to block them out. Looking under the table, here he was safe from the men above as Osirus bellowed a command, the doors to the Dining Hall slammed shut and locked. Now, everyone was locked in, caged like animals. Fear enveloped the young Prince. Seeing an opportunity, however, he crawled on his hands and knees to Camine's feet. Looking up at the Prophet from between his legs, he set his hands to work on the bonds on the Prophet's ankles.
Osirus growled loudly and turned to Israfel and Takashe. "My plans will not be ruined tonight! Israfel, Takashe, kill the merchants! Kill everyone, but don't touch the Prophet!" He ordered. Men and women screamed in fear. Their King was going to have them slaughtered here and now.
Adrian had felt Draken move behind him. He had known this meeting would've turned out bad. But in the midst of the fighting, he had lost his audio track on Draken. He barely had enough time to throw himself from Draken's grasp and the chair into the next man before Draken struck. However, he hadn't moved fast enough. The bleeding gash on his side told him so. Draken's dagger had sliced through his shirts, leaving a rugged gash just above his hip. Looking at it in pain, he could already feel its effects surging through him. He looked up at Draken in pain, then growled, throwing a swift punch at him.
"Bastard! Osirus!" He glared at the King who turned his eyes to him. Adrian grabbed a small knife from the table and leapt onto the table holding his gushing side. He ran at Osirus, whom gave him a cruel smile as Adrian suddenly received an incredibly powerful blow to his head from Israfel's chain. The sergeant leaped onto the table, standing over Adrian.
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Draken
Knights of Osirus
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Posts: 79
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Post by Draken on Oct 19, 2007 21:04:02 GMT -8
It took a while to register what happened after the attempted assassination, until he looked at the angered expression on Osirus' face. Then he just wanted to run. He was torn betweeen unlocking the door and running for his life, or just staying out of the way. Running would ensure his death; He may be able to weasel out of another situation if he stayed.
He sighed.
Dwelling too deeply on thoughts, he didn't see the punch coming at him- straight in the gut. It sent him to the floor gasping for breath.
(blah, Sorry for short, crappiness)
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Prophet Camine
Prophets of Alyssus
Does it look like I care?
Posts: 10
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Post by Prophet Camine on Oct 21, 2007 15:05:25 GMT -8
Camine jerked slightly at the feel of someone touching his ankles but frowned at the sudden wave of a faint but familiar warmth. Blind eyes were slowly revealed as he opened his eyes but kept staring straight ahead, ignoring the screams that reached his ears. The word escaped him softly, “Mother?” He remembered that warmth, the feel of safety and love, he felt that warmth before it vanished and replaced with a different kind of warmth.
“No… Erosceles…” Camine closed his eyes again and leaned against the back of his chair before he murmured softly to the child. “What are you doing? If you had the common sense of a normal human, you’d realize you cannot undo these steel bonds with your hands. I am grateful but you cannot release them with your hands.”
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Princess Naahra
Knights of Osirus
Princess of Alyssus[/u]
The Pet of Queen Marcelle
Posts: 49
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Post by Princess Naahra on Oct 22, 2007 17:06:41 GMT -8
Everything seemed to have fallen apart as soon as her father gave the order for everyone to be killed. At first, Naahra looked to her father with shock, wondering why in the name of Nocens Atrum he would do something like that, but, after a while, she came to understand. Her father was taking action like an alpha male of a wolf pack would; if a pack grew too big, or there was a harsh winter with little food, the stronger would be the only ones to survive. Because of that, they usually killed off the weaker, older, sick, or dying just to spare them the pain of having to rough out the winter and starve. So, she just watched silently as the humans cried out their innocence or tried to escape. One even tried to attack her, or maybe it was directed at her father but was aimed terribly. Nevertheless, a knife flew her way, missing her just barely but at the same time cutting a strand of her ebony hair. With wide eyes, the princess watched as the single strand fluttered down onto her pale hand, landing there momentarily before gliding down to the stone floor.
That was it.
Letting out an earsplitting screech, the princess stood up, retrieving the knife that had buried itself within the chair she sat upon, and threw it with surprising accuracy, lodging itself within the back of a terribly fat noble woman. A cruel smirk formed on the princess's lips as she saw the woman fall forward with a loud thud, causing all eyes to fall upon her. Slowly, she closed her eyes, sitting back down. "That's for cutting off a strand of my beautiful hair..." she said softly, leaning back on her chair and staring up at the ceiling again.
((Fair warning. Never, never, NEVER touch Naahra's hair...))
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Post by Queen Marcelle on Oct 23, 2007 16:43:15 GMT -8
Banquets were something that Marcelle always had mixed feelings about. Like Lord Nikanoru and the newest General of Osirus' Knights, she detested being in the presence of so many pompous nobles and aristocrats, and yet, paradoxically enjoyed it. She hated everything about them: their personalities, clothes, eating habits, scent - everything. They could hide what they truly were behind fancy clothes and piles of money, but the truth remained the same - they were nothing more than vermin. But she did love the complements and praises they would constantly shower her with.
A widely-known fact was that Marcelle had an ego the size of Alyssus itself. Sycophantic nobles and merchants would always praise her whenever they could, complementing her beauty and clothing, so that they might find favor with her and hopefully end up on Osirus' good side. Though she was a bit ignorant, Marcelle was by no means a fool - in fact, she was quite intelligent. Osirus wouldn't marry some stupid bimbo, after all - something that those nobles failed to comprehend. Even so, she still loved having her ego inflated, but knew better than to let some common fools get the better of her.
Sitting at her husband's side as always, Marcelle was actually in a good mood - that is, until the goblet of wine spilled all over her favorite outfit. It took her a good full minute to register exactly what had just happened. Someone had dared to actually throw a goblet of wine at her - the Queen of Alyssus, wife of the living god Osirus. The shouting and clamor that filled the room, her daughter having just committed her first direct murder, Takashe cutting down merchants like they were mere blades of overgrown grass, and even her flustered husband shouting out order after order - all these things were completely alien to her.
Through sheer impulse she jumped up, grabbed a nearby steak knife, and leaped onto the table. Her lovely outfit was ruined, her pride shaken, meaning someone had to pay with blood. Her flaring eyes quickly perused over the people seated at the table, eventually fixing on a rather obese woman. Ugly demon - a perfect target! Marcelle lunged at the ham beast and knocked her to the ground, plunging the knife deep into her flesh. With great speed and precision she cut the merchant's wife into chunks of bloody flesh, a sadistic smile staining her pristine face as the guts poured out onto the ground. The woman's young son watched in unimaginable horror, not daring to make a move against the mad Queen.
"W-Why?" the boy managed to say through his tears, staring at the woman who was supposed to be looking out for the people of Alyssus.
"Because I'm a bitch - that's why."
Satisfied with murdering a helpless woman in front of her soon-to-be dead son, Marcelle returned to her throne and sat down, once again in a good mood. A considerably demented smile stained her lovely face as she watched the carnage, enjoying every second of it.
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