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Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy roleplaying forum! We strive for creative, free-form roleplaying, in the hopes of allowing each and every single member the power to achieve their potential.
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| Welcome to Elenlond, an original medieval fantasy forum! We're always looking for new, dedicated members. Elenlond is composed of two continents: Soare and Esiria. Esiria, a land now isolated due to the efforts of the last remaining Goddess, is inaccessible to all beings and lies in the east. Soare, a continent in the west, is composed of three distinct nations: Ashoka, Soto, and Morrim. Lying between the two major continents are the Scattered Isles. Since the dissolution of the pantheon and the fall of the gods, these countries have existed in relative peace and prosperity. But how long will that peace last? Enter Elenlond; Turn the pages and tell your own tale. If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| The Beginning of the End; Stand-alone. | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 28 2009, 11:12 PM (60 Views) | |
| Andromalius | Jun 28 2009, 11:12 PM Post #1 |
King of the Sexy Guys
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For fifteen minutes, the high council had been in an uproar, because fifteen minutes ago, a letter had been delivered to the most important political figures in the country, requesting for an immediate attendance hosted by the Empress. No, that in and of itself was not entirely uncommon. What had struck them all to be so peculiar was that each note had not been signed by the Empress, but by Andromalius, the new addition, who had been in his position for little more than a week. What, exactly, was going on? Fellow Council Members - I humbly request for your attendance in precisely twenty minutes to bare witness to a history-making moment for Morrim. Our Empress, Her Highness Isra Amiel, will sign an official political document, which will appoint me heir to the throne in her absence. To ensure there is no confusion within the matter, I am asking you to stand and see for yourselves as she puts pen to paper. Thank you for your time, Grand Master Andromalius It had been a sweltering day, and at last, the air had finally begun to cool around dusk. With the temperature change, thunderclouds rolled in the distance, and the atmosphere was growing heavy with both humidity and the promise of some event about to transpire. The Banshee had left no room for error. He'd given them all just enough time to reach the doors of the office room, and he'd given the servants a strict command to open them at a very specific time. Failure to do so would lead in the deaths of their families and everything they'd ever grown to love. Just to let them know he was serious, he'd killed their pets and smeared the doors of their homes with the left-over blood. At last, the doors to the Empress's office was opened, and ten men and women came pouring in, almost all at once busying Isra with grand gestures of 'why' and 'how'. The Empress, in all of her regality, however, merely gave them a flickering glance. "Silence," she said in no louder of a tone than she normally ever spoke in. A piece of paper with writing was placed in front of her. She read aloud its conditions, that only upon her absence will Andromalius assume her throne for safe-guarding. While in power, he would accept every responsibility she was burdened by, and retain every bit of power she held as sovereign of this land. "I will not hear any arguments over my decision," she finally lifted her head to speak to the room. "None. This is my word. It is law now. You will serve Andromalius as you have served me. Is that understood by everyone here?" A lot of nodding was going on, but none seemed too pleased. "Very well then. Will someone please hand me a pen?" No one in the room responded. Isra cleared her throat. "Give me a pen, now." About five were placed in front of her finally. She lifted one with her delicate feminine hands and signed the paper at the bottom, which seemed to have already been signed by the ghost ...who was not present for some reason they would not ask. The Empress already was far too touchy about this subject. She even seemed to lack her usual glow... But, it was her, there was no denying, and it was her signature upon the official documents. They were all witnesses. Heaving a sigh, she stood, and took the documentation in her hand. "In light of this development, I'm taking a month for holiday. Speak with Andromalius about any matters that need attending to. If you'll excuse me..." The room bowed their heads, the doors were opened for her, and she left, leaving the small crowd to explode into a frenzy of panic. Down the hall, she continued to the stairs, hurrying along with the skirt of her dress in hand. She seemed to be in an awful rush. Dashing out of the palace gates, she'd arrived beside a black carriage, opening the door to quickly stuff herself inside before many had a chance to see. Once safe, another sigh came rolling out of her, this one considerably more ragged and husky. Eventually, her head fell back against the person seated next to her within the coach, and she lost all consciousness - it was traded to the limp form to her right. Andromalius's black eyes opened. It took him a moment to move, but when he was able, he reached a hand to his head and massaged a temple. That had been the first time he'd done that since his re-awakening. Then again, he hadn't really needed to use that ability before now. The documentation was snatched from the unconscious Empress's clutches, rolled up carefully, and placed into a leather scroll he had brought along. As soon as they arrived back at the tower, he would make sure his new guest would be situated properly before returning to claim his country. It had begun to rain once they arrived at the foothills of the Do'Suul. She'd awoken half way through the trip, and had remained silent and distant. While her recollection of what had happened was hazy, she knew what he had made her do. He'd made her abandon her people... Right now, Isra couldn't bear the sight of him without vomiting. "Come, Your Highness!" he chuckled, grabbing her arm and stepping outside into the downpour. With a hard and sadistic wrench, she was flung from the cabin to the muddy ground. She refused to make a sound, even still, having the resolve to keep herself from giving him the satisfaction of a cry. Treated like nothing but a doll, she was dragged inside the mouth of the ominous cave, into the heart of the Black Tower, where inside, she was thrust up the staircase. "You should feel honored," he hissed. "I don't usually allow people in here. Even more-so, I'm going to put you beneath the sky, so every day you may look up, like a caged bird, and hope for someone to come and save you. Doesn't that sound lovely?" A wide, reptilian grin came crawling across his features at they passed the third floor. "You're sick," she muttered. "But you cannot break me. Someone will come. They will find me!" "Mmm. Yes, hope... But, in the way you seemed to gleefully run away from your people at the first sign that you could, I doubt they'll really care to come after you now. It's a shame you had to betray them all like that, Your Highness." The woman was thrown upon the vine-ridden ground of the top floor's observatory beneath the stained glass and the rain. When she'd attempted to stand, an icy hand on her throat pushed her back down and kept her still as a shackle was chained to her left ankle. "I do hope you enjoy yourself here, Isra..." he purred, dangerously close to her face as she choked for breath. "...Because you'll be staying for quite a while... At the very least, until you lose your usefulness, at which point, I can kill you if you like!" A warm, wet drip ran off of his cheek where he was promptly spat upon. A look of real, putrid disgust twisted his expressions when he lifted a sleeve to wipe the wretched gesture off his face. Slowly, his eyes turned back to her, burning with rage. A hand came down upon her face, back-handing the Empress with a satisfying smack which echoed through the tower, a power behind it that once again rendered her unconscious. Standing, the Wicked left her alone there, shutting the five-inch thick, solid oak door behind himself and locking it before he placed the key upon his person. "Erimentha!" he called down during his descent. "I have to get back. Do not allow the prisoner any freedoms, you understand? Bring her food once a day and a blanket for the night, and do not trust a word she says. She will be looking to escape." Hitting the bottom, he flew towards the passageway and finally added, "I'll return soon to see how you're doing. Don't let anyone you don't know enter." Eventually, the pitter-patter of rain drowned out his footsteps. Outside, he passed the carriage, this time opting for one of the large, white horses which had been carrying it, and sped back off to Kinaldi to sit on his new throne. The storm followed him... Edited by Andromalius, Jun 28 2009, 11:13 PM.
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