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+--- Thread: Starsfall, Once Again [Fate-14, IC Thread] (/showthread.php?tid=18319)
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RE: Starsfall, Once Again [Fate-14, IC Thread] - Anstarra - 12-06-2017
The sky burned.
Not a healthy fire, not pure, cleansing reds, oranges and yellows. This was a sickly blaze, obscured by smoke like poison and threaded with desperate veins of lightning.
It was a sky from a madman's nightmares of the end of the world.
"Wake up," muttered X'zenn, in case he was the madman. "Wake from this." Alas, he did not. It had been a vain hope. After all, he seemed cursed to remain sane, where so many others...
Incongruously, he found himself thinking of Nihka. A slight curve to his lips. That he should remember the name of an Outsider.. but then, she wasn't just any Outsider, was she? A goddess. A goddess of the night, of the moon, the midnight sun. Of passion, that. Of love.
If the Nunh was a god, it made sense for Outsiders to have gods too, right? Weaker gods, to be sure, but.. powerful in their own ways. That he, X'zenn, Warlord of the Glade, could have killed her, fighter to fighter, he had little doubt; that he had not wanted to, and more, was not sure he could have wanted to, was proof enough to him of that power.
She should be a goddess of the Falling Stars. Of the Blessed.. if they could take Outsiders' weapons, their ways, their books and inventions, they could well take their goddesses too, right?
A shock of realization; surely that was exactly what the Nunh had been doing, bringing her to them. Taking her to the Caves... and, without a doubt, taking her. Over and over, to win her over to him... Who had won that battle? For battle it surely was.. and that X'zenn himself did not automatically assume the Nunh's victory, as he should, was proof enough that the beautiful moon goddess had sunk her long, long fangs into his own soul...
"You have an interesting expression."
His expression turned flat, suppressing both the fondness of memory and the disturbingly sharp pang of jealousy as he imagined the black-skinned female in the Nunh's arms. Turning, he regarded the male beside him with what he hoped was studied indifference, tinged with irritation. Irritation which grew as the male in question's own smile widened fractionally in response. He clicked his tongue.
"Do you have nothing better to do, X'indro?"
"Right now? Not really. Like you - and X'ioun, and X'akkel, and Rrain - I wait on X'ogun's pleasure. Also like you, my mind wanders to fond memories... oh, don't look at me like that. I won't tell. So. Whose pretty face occupies your thoughts?"
"You see too much..." muttered the northern Warlord, irritated.. though not especially worried. He understood X'indro, too. And so, rather than evade.. "The dark-skinned Outsider. Nihka." A twitch of brows was his reward; he'd surprised the pink-eyed male. X'zenn smirked, though the expression faded quickly. "I wonder what she would think of this place. If she would see the beauty.. the love, in this.. nightmare."
No response came, and so after a moment the Warlord turned to regard his fellow, and found him pensive. That.. calculating thoughtfulness of the male that made him so dangerous. X'zenn's ears twitched back a fraction; had he made a mistake? But the other Warlord grinned suddenly.
"The world is changing quickly, isn't it? Ah, look.. he returns. Success, I think."
X'zenn followed his gaze. X'ogun was walking back from the floating metal board.. the console, he'd called it. His expression was closed, but there was that in his stance that agreed with X'indro's statement; the Fallen had figured out how it worked.
"I know not if there is love to be seen in this," the Southern Warlord murmured, still smiling, as X'ogun made his way over. "But there is certainly beauty... like I said, the world is changing, and not slowly. We shall see great things, I think, and soon. How many of us will die on the way, do you think?"
X'zenn shook his head... then looked at his fellow sharply, frowning. "That is no idle question. You have an idea."
A nod and grin in response. "That's why I like you, Zenn.. smarter than they give credit. The answer.." he nods to X'ogun, "is right there."
"...the Advisor, rather than the Nunh."
"Yes. You know where X'zarann is. And in this, we can see why."
X'zenn let out a breath, closing his eyes. Yes, of course.
"Preparing the next generation."
"Indeed. The price of war, yes?"
A nod.. and then a smile. X'indro noted it, tilting his head.
"Too many of us are still frozen in the old ways anyroad. It will be.. cleansing."
"Ah... again you surprise, my friend. Of course, I have no intention of dying."
"Neither do I. I have things yet to do."
"Such as seeing your moon goddess again..?"
It was X'zenn's turn to grin.
RE: Starsfall, Once Again [Fate-14, IC Thread] - Zelmanov - 12-14-2017
Orrin did not know exactly what to expect when he returned to the icy highlands of his home. He had a plan to find those that he led into the clutches of the Falling Stars tribe and, with the staff repaired by Vael’a, free them of their servitude. He knew their names, their faces and their patrols. It was because they were close to him, he trusted them and they trusted him, which made the memories of his betrayal even more painful.
His mind was under fetters for nearly more than a year so it had taken time for all those memories to come back, each instance where he offered up another brother in arms to the damned Nunh and his tribe seared into his brain like an inquisitor’s brand upon flesh. The action was so despicable and contrary to his being that even the slightest of recollection of that repressed past caused blood to boil and chest to rise in fury, the dragon within rattling against the chains, ready to fly loose.
However, he needed to remain calm, for the sake of the names of those he would not dare forget, for the sake of Donovan who defended him, for Carrault and Bainard who wrongfully died by V’aleera’s blade, and for Fontenac, Gauvierre, Carradine, Lemieux, Lucan and Harcourt who he could possibly still save. He had to, he needed to spare them of the pain and torment that would come from their unwilling service to that madman that thought himself to be god. Even if he needed to spend the rest of his life in chains, Orrin had to find them and make right. There was a plan, he merely needed to follow through.
Orrin did not know what to expect when he returned to the icy highlands of his home, but he knew he did not expect this: Within the bell of entering the republic’s borders, three knights approach Orrin without their blades drawn, quickly falling into formation around him as though they were his escort. He knew instantly that these three were men working for the inquisition. A strange sense of pride came over him. They found him out so quickly, the Inquisition actually worked. Orrin kept walking along the road he traveled on and the knights kept pace with him. Silence passes for several tense minutes before one of them wordlessly hands him a letter, stamped with the seal of the inquisition upon it.
That forced him to stop. With gauntleted hands peeking out of his long cloak, he tears open the seal and opens the letter:
Ser Orrin De Halgren,
You have me to thank for the fact that you are currently reading this instead of being brought before the Tribunal in chains. The matter of your “treason†has been suppressed by my hand, if only on the merit of Ser Donovan’s testimony and the greater threat to Ishgard’s security.
I suggest you come speak to me, Ser Halgren, sooner, rather than later. I await you in Camp Dragonhead.
—Inquisitor Brigie
Orrin looks up from the letter and to the knights who watched him through their visors with their stern, piercing eyes.
“Take me to herâ€
RE: Starsfall, Once Again [Fate-14, IC Thread] - S'imba - 02-11-2018
The Umbral Warlord
S’imba took in several deep breaths clutching a deep slash across his chest. Looking down on the white haired female he had just defeated in a sparring match of the falling stars. From what he understood normally the other warlords of the falling stars didn’t spar due to the possibility of being defeated. However S’imba felt that as an outsider he needed to continually prove himself. To remind them why X’zarann had chosen him to be the warlord of the golden prints. He also sought to stand out among them. Though it did tend to mean he ended up with quite a few extra injuries, and the battles were never easy. Suddenly there was a loud shout at the door to their warehouse. It sounded hostile. With a growl S’imba walked over to the entrance and pulled the door back.
Outside there was a little Lalafell Thaumaturge with a pencil thin mustache with a pair of Roe thugs that had their swords drawn.
“Ah greetings, Mongoloidian Tribal.†The Thaumaturge said in a surprisingly smooth voice that had an extremely matter of fact business like tone to it. “We represent a group of concerned citizens that have taken issue with your residence here. We ask that you surrender yourselves to the proper authorities concerning your various criminal activities.â€
“You must be mistaken.†S’imba growled at the Lalafell, clutching the wound on his chest. “We’re just a band of strays that have sought refuge to raise our young.â€
The lalafell gave a sneer. “Regardless you are all a blight on our fair city, and it falls to me to see it cleansed.â€
S’imba narrowed his eyes, baring his fangs. Acting slightly more aggressive than normal to keep up his appearances as the rest of the golden prints watched the scene unfold. “I think you would be wise to turn and walk the other way, outsider.†He said with a growl. “Unless you wish to have your very soul torn from your body to burn for an eternity in the depths of the abyss.â€
The Lalafell grinned. “Do not try to intimidate me with your tribal superstitions, cat. I am no stranger to dabbling in darkness.â€
S’imba twisted his lips into a sneer, putting on the best show he could. Trying to appear as dark and over the top edgy as he could. “Cute, but you should know that -I- am darkness itself, I wield power that you could merely dream of.â€
The lalafell sighed and gestured to the Roe on either side of him. “Kill him then seal the door so I can burn this eyesore and the vermin inside to the ground.â€
The Roe nodded and took a step towards S’imba. They drew their swords and continued advancing.
“So you have elected destruction and damnation?†S’imba said with a shake of his head, flicks his wrists, and raised his palm towards them. Without another word he fired a red bolt at them that exploded in a burst of red aether, ripping the aether from their bodies and causing both to fall lifeless to the ground.
The Lalafell stared in horror as his men fell. Losing his composure he simply turned to flee as fast as he could. S’imba was tempted to finish him but decided against it. Turning to walk back inside he without a word to the others he made his way to a back office that he had fashioned into a sort of personal chamber for himself. He’d filled it with various trophies from his adventures to at least try and look the part of warlord. While it certainly wasn’t as extravagant as the Nunh’s personal chambers S’imba couldn’t help feel a bit proud of it. Even if most of it was just stupid junk and a bunch of fancy swords he had collected.
He shut the door behind himself and gave a sigh. This whole act tended to be exhausting, spending so much time trying to be this terrifying being. Thankfully all that time he had spent with Sven gave him plenty of intimidating dialogue to draw on. Mixed with trying to emulate X’zarann he felt he hoped he was at least having some success. He spent much of his time acting like he was some kind of deity like X’zarann, that this “abyss†he wielded was a power that was the opposite of the Nunh’s radiance. If he could get them to see him as some sort of dark god of destruction maybe they would stop worshipping X’zarann to offer their prayers to the new deity. Hopefully to weaken X’zarann from making his ascension. Since S’imba had no intention of using their prayers to gain power he felt he didn’t have to worry if the sept actually started worshiping him, they may as well pray to a statue of Halone. He walked over and grabbed some bandaging, starting to treat his wounds and gave a heavy sigh. “It’s really hard to try and be a god.†He muttered to himself.