Reporting to Osirus

[Draken]

(First off, (this being my first post) let me say that I'm not sure my RP skills are up to par and it might take a bit to get into a new forum, so go easy on me! hehe)

As light and inaudible they were, Draken's footsteps echoed against the aged stone walls of the castle. With each step came more and more dread, each step reminds him of what could be a painful future.

It started one afternoon, a couple days back. King Osirus, as usual, directly had his orders and an assassination victim assigned to Draken. An elf- the usual. Another courier. Elven couriers were harder to find than men. They normally didn't follow the roads, were very alert of their surroundings which made it impossible to sneak up on one, and on top of all that they traveled with bodyguards.

All the more fun, Draken thought optimistically.

It was almost daybreak. Little traces of the courier were strewn about, but still no sight of him. And after a day of searching and another four hours of nearly nonstop flight, Draken had given up hope and rested quietly in the bough of a tree until his distant thoughts were jostled by the muffled trotting of a horse coming his direction. Their faint, musical voices came closer and closer. They were speaking in Elvish.
Excited and relieved, he got ready to strike the first figure below him as stealthily and quickly as he could. Luck, or perhaps misfortune to the elves, had brought them here, and Draken was certain he had their fates sealed his the cruel blade of his sword. He wouldn't allow them to escape the forest with their lives...
The elves on the other hand were well unaware of the danger of their comming situation. Guarding this courier for two days straight with nothing out of the ordinary to happen had surely taken a toll on their perception. Their ignorance led them here. Three mounted elves, the target courier in the middle and guards in front of and behind him. Draken lept from the tree too early- slaying first the front bodyguard and startling the courier's horse to run frantically away, elf and all. The other guard, on the other hand, managed to subdue Draken in a sword skirmish long enough for the courier to escape. The skirmish ended as Draken's sword was thrust into the elf's back.

Draken shivered as the events reoccured in his head. He failed to kill the target- what would Osirus do to him? He shivered again. He kept trudging along with his eyes down, the rythem of his own breath and footsteps played like a monotonous metronome in his mind and kept him walking reluctantly to the castle's throne room where he was scheduled to report to Osirus about his assignment. Finally he arrived, though too soon to him. The rythmatic beat of his heart seemed to stop in dread as he looked upon the enormous heavy oaken door that separated him from the throne room. Hesitantly, he pushed it open and stepped inside.

"M-my lord?" Draken called out rather quietly, as if he didn't want to be noticed.

The frigid air passed through his lungs immediately reminding him of something that slipped his mind through all this stress- The fireplace was but a dead, glowing heap of coals. The coldness and lack of adequite light only added to the usual ambiance, especially if Osirus was present. However, he was nowhere to be seen unless he was hiding in the shadows. As long as he wasn't here, Draken thought that he might as well relieved himself of some pain and attempted to get a fire going again.

((Blah))

[King Osirus]

With Alyssus firmly in his grip, there wasn't much that a King could be disappointed in. He was the highest power, he was the beacon of fear, and he was the King of a land he had molded into his own image. Life was surely fair to the King Osirus. But there was in fact more that the King wanted. A selfish and cold hearted man, Osirus viewed Alyssus as a land falling into despair none too quickly. His Knights were disappearing right under his nose, the Order is amassing again, and Prophets were running about sticking their noses into everything. Oh yes, he knew about the troublesome Prophets. Keeping one locked away like a pet, Osirus was well aware of the others. He knew of the Prophet of Malaise, he knew of the Lusftul Prophet, and he knew of Bassette. Bassette, the one in which was sticking her old, thin fingers into his plans and messing them up.

At first, Osirus was sure his anger could dwell only on one person; Laties Luhma. But now, he was well aware of another target. Bassette and Laties, two of the most influential trouble makers he had seen in a long time. He had to get rid of them. He had sent bounty hunters, head hunters, and assassins out after Laties. Whether they had made it seemed to allude him. But Laties wasn't dead and he was in the Southern Temple. He could feel him getting closer to the sword. But he could do nothing here. He could only rely on Lord Remarque getting there before Laties and killed him.

Walking the dark halls, Osirus headed for the throne room. He wished to speak to Nocens Atrum alone. But finding a place alone in this castle what with the servants was difficult enough. He knew no one would be within the throne room at this hour. Dressed in a long black robe, outlined with white ruffles, his long hair pulled back by a loose ribbon, he was dressed for relaxing, not consulting a dark god. But he needed to know what his next plan would be.

But what was this? The door to the throne room was open already. Casting an odd look, Osirus walked up to the open throne room door and walked in quietly, seeing Draken standing there. Smirking, Osirus walked up behind the assassin, his foot steps just as quiet. Without warning, the dark King wrapped an arm around his mouth, the other arm around his torso, pinning his arms. His grip was strong, his fingers laying on the assassin's stomach.

"Draken Chronalis, its so very nice to see you again. I was beginning to think that perhaps you had failed in slaying that courier..." He whispered wickedly in his ear. The had that lay on his stomach moved up to his chest, where he fiddled absentmindedly with a loose string.

"Tell me, what have you brought back to show me?" He asked. Then, he released Draken and stepped in front of him, his lips twisted in a cruel smile.

[Draken]

Osirius' arm supressed Draken's cry in suprise and his heart sunk as he mentioned the courier. His eyes traveled to the pathetic flare he managed to start in the fireplace but the room was still freezing cold. He doubted Osirus would even notice- His heart was so cold he probably didn't realize the temperature, he thought.

As he was let go, he decided to first take the flattery approach. He bowed deeply before the King and forced a small smile on his face before speaking. "First, allow me to compliment on how majestic you look this evening, my liege." He gave a quick glance at the marble furnace behind him, which a somewhat lively blaze began to errupt from the coals. This would help with his attempted flattery some, disguising the fact that he forgot to feed the fire as soon as he got back.

"Next, Might I add that you deserve this land more than that sleazy Order and I am honored to be your servant," He said as sincerly as he could manage, bowing once more. His goal was to diverge the conversation away from his failed assassination atttempt.

[King Osirus]

Osirus stared at Draken for a moment, the his eyes traveled to the fire. He was pleased that the fire had been built, although, not in a warming way. With the fire, he could easily pressure the assassin. The crackling blaze sent rigid shadows against the King's face and the assassin's. As he ignored Draken's flattery, he moved over to the fireplace, running his fingers down the cold marble for a moment. His dark eyes stared into the fire as Draken finished talking, allowing a rather uncomfortable silence befall the two of them. As if Draken were to open his mouth, he shot a hand out, turning his eyes to the assassin.

"Cease your flattery, for I've got filthy peasants and merchants to do that. You're job is to ensure the death of those I've marked," he said. He frowned and walked up to Draken, glaring at him.

"Is the elven courier dead or not? I want a straight answer unless you wish to swallow Gurellan scorpions for the next eight weeks. I gave you a mission and if you're not cut out for it, I've got plenty more assassins much more capable than you. Do you hear me? You're expendable. You'll do well to remember this. Now...is he dead or not?" Osirus growled.

[Draken]

The expression was wiped from his face. Draken's gaze settled on the floor, his feet shuffled nervously. He had few other options that would keep him from getting into trouble, however the only he dared to do had a chance to backfire horribly.

He straightened up, his eyes filled with uncertain confidence now focused on his King.

"Of course the elf is dead, my lord. You don't have to worry about that."

This was his only ticket to freedom. If the King bougth this, he would have a chance to search for the courier again tonight and obliterate him.

[King Osirus]

Osirus gave him a sideways glance, then chuckled lightly. He reached over and grabbed Draken's chin, looking at him evenly. His sharp nails dug into Draken's soft, youthful face.

"You are a very stupid boy...I know very well the elf isn't dead. Any assassin would know to bring back evidence. I'm not that foolish to send an assassin out and not expect evidence. If he was dead, you'd bring me his head or else, the information he concealed," Osirus said. He patted Draken's face sharply, then released him as he walked towards the fireplace again.

"But lucky for you, I'm feeling generous. I won't take your life at the moment...However, I will kill you if you fail me again..." Osirus said. He then folded his arms over his chest and looked at Draken, emotion cleared from his face.

"If you fail this time, not only will I humiliate you in front of all Alyssus, I will be sure that your soul is buried in the deepest parts of Hell. So, this time, you will succeed. This time, you're staying here so that I will see if you finish your job. I'm holding a banquet and I will be inviting several well to do men. There is one in the crowd, a young man by the name of Adrian. He is the son of a weapons merchant who is slowing in production and shipping. I want you to kill him. Kill him right in front of everyone to show the power of your King. If you fail, I will kill you right there in front of everyone. If you succeed, then I will forget this mistake you've made," Osirus said. He then smirked, laying his head against the cold marble.

[Draken]

Anger coursed through his veins. He wanted to arouse an argument desperatly, to rebel against the King, but reminded himself it would only land him in more trouble. He bit his tounge to suppress a stream of curses.

"Yes, my lord," He said through clenched teeth, bowing in politeness this time. "Simply tell me when and how- I won't fail you again."

[King Osirus]

Osirus smiled, hearing the anger in Draken's voice. He walked up to him again, his long robes flowing about his feet elegantly. He gripped Draken's shoulder for a moment, smiling cruelly at him.

"That a boy. I will be holding the banquet tomorrow night. And you're the assassin. Use your imagination. I don't care if its loud and bloody or quiet and discrete. Just make sure it gets done. He'll be sitting four seats down, opposite of the Princess. The banquet starts at sun down. Don't be late now..." Osirus said, squeezing his shoulder briefly. before walking away. Before leaving, he turned to look at Draken.

"Do be sure that you're there. If you try to run, I'll send the dogs after you..." He chuckled and left.

Ooc:: Sorry for the shortness! But now you can reply to the banquet board. ^_^;

::Osirus Fin::