[Wanted to show off the "evil" part of his Lawful Evil alignment. Suggested listening begins mid-way through the post so be sure to start it when you actually get to it! Happy reading!]
               Most nights were simple things in the Poet's life. Most were sleepless hours scrapping across his consciousness as he studied or wrote. Some night were heated with the company of others. Others still were the relinquishment of pride where sleep was so longed for that complex tinctures were grabbed from the nightstand drawer. Suffering one such night he would cloak himself in a heavier robe, sliding the hood over his head till the ears slipped into place. Boots would be wearily stepped into and his symbol of purpose, that precious wooden mask of his would be clutched from the nightstand only to be placed upon its pedestal and hide the woeful face from the world.
               The night air was cold, no doubt carried in by the sea breeze that was intent on blowing against the fabrics of his hood. The cold was nice though a welcomed temperature to do battle against the ever-warmth of his skin. AS he stepped onward, the aches of his neck forces him to roll his head back as he released a purposeful breath into the air releasing a spray of tiny ice crystals each glistening with the moonlight. With the caught sight of one extremely confused Elezen likely a dockworker the Poet would off a small respectful bow of his head to the man before continuing onward.
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               His stroll lead him through the markets and through the cork-screw of silence that was the central spire of the port town and much to his regret he found no one or thing to catch his attention and alleviate his wandering thoughts and then from just around a rounded corner tucked away at the end of a curve.... Fated silence gave the Poet just what he sought. The barbaric gruff of a pirate... no... two as a second voice commanded someone to hold still. A third raised his voice, wisdom amongst the lowly animals of the world.
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               "Hurry up." His voice was particularly shaky knowing well the poor decisions his crew mates were making.Â
[youtube]IRLu0LqmOF4[/youtube]
               He paused, boots thudding ever so softly as he turned his head to the right down a darker section of docks where clearly a ship had been docked.Â
Brimstone slowly billowed from the Poet's mouth before he was forced to open it unleashing a puff of spark and embers into the air. With clenched fists he shot himself forward leaving a brief trail of the same brimstone in his wake before he turned a corner and upon him was the face of one mangy, if wise, Hyur urchin.
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               The mixture of horror and surprise on his face was quickly taken from him as the beast that had caught them was no merciful man. There was a moment of silence as the lookout tried to breath but it was already too late. The Poet's fist had already reached its mark, crashing first into the Hyur's midsection and then igniting to unleash a point blank blast of concussion and flames that curled around his body marking his shadow with the corona of retribution before he fell to the ground...
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               The others watched his crewmate collapse to the ground his corpse smoldering with the remnant of heat that was left in him as his dead flesh cooked itself. The others were, one Duskwright armed kindly with his lance already in hand and one more Hyur whom held a Lady Miqo'te against a wall as she struggled for freedom and for words the gag she sported wouldn't allow. Not soon after the woman was thrust to the ground to be exchanged for a sword. Within second the Poet's arms were engulfed in the churning rage of his inner Flames. The eyes of his mask erupted with the golden and white billows of his wrath.
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               "Suffer your reckoning .." He groaned out as black smoke and sparks burst from his lips in delicate puffs. The taunt worked well; the lancer of an Elezen came charging forward aiming for the Poet's midsection for a quick kill whilst his last ally remained behind. The rush of air would have been felt as the spear rushed just passed him as his body turned allowing the Elezen to double the pike back around for a second swing. The Poet however would be taken by surprise again instead waiting for the Elezen to full extend his strike before grasping the pole arm and unchaining a torrent of lightning that crawled up the shaft and into his metallic gloves until he let go and fell to the grown as well.
"Undeserving of a monster's mercy..." The embers were spit down at the second urchin before the pole arm was stabbed down into his heart that is had so ached for in his hands. The jolt of vibrant purples that traveled down the weapon once more left the stench of cooked flesh to permeate into the air even more. "Run now... take flight and cross the oceans by morn- lest you wish to see me again." The last remaining Hyur looked in dazed fear of the sight before him. With little else of an option as he watched the cloaked Poet approaching with his eyes slowly dimming back down to a masked lifelessness.
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               He made the wise choice; dropping his sword and running passed the Poet to get away and live another day but alas there is no mercy for the wretched. With a swing of his arm the Poet raised a icy palm backwards and from the ground a bright light would flash fracturing ice would rise up and as he released out one last frozen-hearted breath into the air. He shrilled out his last breath as his body was impaled by the frozen spike blood dripping down the angled spire of ice that now cradled his lifeless body just above the ground. The silence encroached the two remaining as colder black eyes fell upon the woman.
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               Most nights were simple things in the Poet's life. Most were sleepless hours scrapping across his consciousness as he studied or wrote. Some night were heated with the company of others. Others still were the relinquishment of pride where sleep was so longed for that complex tinctures were grabbed from the nightstand drawer. Suffering one such night he would cloak himself in a heavier robe, sliding the hood over his head till the ears slipped into place. Boots would be wearily stepped into and his symbol of purpose, that precious wooden mask of his would be clutched from the nightstand only to be placed upon its pedestal and hide the woeful face from the world.
               The night air was cold, no doubt carried in by the sea breeze that was intent on blowing against the fabrics of his hood. The cold was nice though a welcomed temperature to do battle against the ever-warmth of his skin. AS he stepped onward, the aches of his neck forces him to roll his head back as he released a purposeful breath into the air releasing a spray of tiny ice crystals each glistening with the moonlight. With the caught sight of one extremely confused Elezen likely a dockworker the Poet would off a small respectful bow of his head to the man before continuing onward.
Â
               His stroll lead him through the markets and through the cork-screw of silence that was the central spire of the port town and much to his regret he found no one or thing to catch his attention and alleviate his wandering thoughts and then from just around a rounded corner tucked away at the end of a curve.... Fated silence gave the Poet just what he sought. The barbaric gruff of a pirate... no... two as a second voice commanded someone to hold still. A third raised his voice, wisdom amongst the lowly animals of the world.
Â
               "Hurry up." His voice was particularly shaky knowing well the poor decisions his crew mates were making.Â
[youtube]IRLu0LqmOF4[/youtube]
               He paused, boots thudding ever so softly as he turned his head to the right down a darker section of docks where clearly a ship had been docked.Â
Brimstone slowly billowed from the Poet's mouth before he was forced to open it unleashing a puff of spark and embers into the air. With clenched fists he shot himself forward leaving a brief trail of the same brimstone in his wake before he turned a corner and upon him was the face of one mangy, if wise, Hyur urchin.
Â
               The mixture of horror and surprise on his face was quickly taken from him as the beast that had caught them was no merciful man. There was a moment of silence as the lookout tried to breath but it was already too late. The Poet's fist had already reached its mark, crashing first into the Hyur's midsection and then igniting to unleash a point blank blast of concussion and flames that curled around his body marking his shadow with the corona of retribution before he fell to the ground...
Â
               The others watched his crewmate collapse to the ground his corpse smoldering with the remnant of heat that was left in him as his dead flesh cooked itself. The others were, one Duskwright armed kindly with his lance already in hand and one more Hyur whom held a Lady Miqo'te against a wall as she struggled for freedom and for words the gag she sported wouldn't allow. Not soon after the woman was thrust to the ground to be exchanged for a sword. Within second the Poet's arms were engulfed in the churning rage of his inner Flames. The eyes of his mask erupted with the golden and white billows of his wrath.
Â
               "Suffer your reckoning .." He groaned out as black smoke and sparks burst from his lips in delicate puffs. The taunt worked well; the lancer of an Elezen came charging forward aiming for the Poet's midsection for a quick kill whilst his last ally remained behind. The rush of air would have been felt as the spear rushed just passed him as his body turned allowing the Elezen to double the pike back around for a second swing. The Poet however would be taken by surprise again instead waiting for the Elezen to full extend his strike before grasping the pole arm and unchaining a torrent of lightning that crawled up the shaft and into his metallic gloves until he let go and fell to the grown as well.
"Undeserving of a monster's mercy..." The embers were spit down at the second urchin before the pole arm was stabbed down into his heart that is had so ached for in his hands. The jolt of vibrant purples that traveled down the weapon once more left the stench of cooked flesh to permeate into the air even more. "Run now... take flight and cross the oceans by morn- lest you wish to see me again." The last remaining Hyur looked in dazed fear of the sight before him. With little else of an option as he watched the cloaked Poet approaching with his eyes slowly dimming back down to a masked lifelessness.
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               He made the wise choice; dropping his sword and running passed the Poet to get away and live another day but alas there is no mercy for the wretched. With a swing of his arm the Poet raised a icy palm backwards and from the ground a bright light would flash fracturing ice would rise up and as he released out one last frozen-hearted breath into the air. He shrilled out his last breath as his body was impaled by the frozen spike blood dripping down the angled spire of ice that now cradled his lifeless body just above the ground. The silence encroached the two remaining as colder black eyes fell upon the woman.
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"Fear not the hand of a Poet M'lady. Forgive the beast before you for these acts you had to bear witness to.
You'll find no harm in the comfort of my arms, nor any worry in the shelter of my words.
Take upon your form this cloak and allow yourself decency
whilst a Poet carries you to your home."
You'll find no harm in the comfort of my arms, nor any worry in the shelter of my words.
Take upon your form this cloak and allow yourself decency
whilst a Poet carries you to your home."
"Cull the meek. Reap the false-righteous. Slaughter the corrupted. Thus a Poet's words command
Tides, Storms and Flames. Now listen to the world PURGE by their demand."