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| Double-Edged Sword; For Gevurah/Badimo (played by Mirix) | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 27 2011, 07:46 PM (263 Views) | |
| Razarod | Jul 27 2011, 07:46 PM Post #1 |
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Angkar's Fallen Lord
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Razarod's many days of following the river had taken him to the Do'suul Mountains, far away from anyone who might still be looking for him. Not that he'd heard anything about that. Everyone seemed to be sure he was dead. No one, save for the tiniest handful of people, knew the truth. That the former King of Angkar was very much alive. And he was getting close now. Close to Soto. If anywhere was safe for him, it would be Soto. They were on horrible terms with Orion, and had always enjoyed an easygoing relationship with Angkar under Razarod's rule. If anyone could be trusted, it would be them. He hoped. He was admittedly a bit worried about Sphynx, with whom he did not feel he had last parted ways with on the best of terms... Not to mention the assassin's guild in Soto, which Sophia had ties to. But there would be time to let his thoughts occupy him later. He had to keep moving. And so he did. But after a couple more hours of traveling, Razarod and his phoenix were forced to stop and rest for the the night. The two of them were able to easily start a fire, and Razarod pulled out some dried meat, eating it before lying down beside the fire, staring into it. Khanrad was already curled up near him, head buried in his feathers. But sleep did not come so easily to Razarod. He pulled Badimo from its sheath in front of him, his fingers playing over its hilt absent-mindedly as he lay there, alone in the stark landscape of the mountain. |
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| Mirix | Aug 7 2011, 02:02 PM Post #2 |
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The Insatiable
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A light 'ping' was emitted from the weapon to draw the man's attention before the sword began to give off a dark violet glow. Suddenly and without warning the object would become insanely hot to the touch, enough to make a sane man want to throw it away to keep from burning their hand. Despite this, for whatever reason the weapon gave off no obvious heat signature. A sudden crimson flash then bursts from the weapon and instantly a humanoid agent of its own will was brought forth but only a couple feet away. The astral projection was very tall, at least nine and a half feet in height. Its garb was extremely simple; a full body hooded robe which covered it completely from head to toe, aside from hands and forearms where the robe’s fabric was scrunched and ended prematurely at the elbows. There was no face to be seen on the figure, the hood that was pulled up over where a head would be, cast the most impenetrable of dark shadows on the elongated space beneath it. What skin that could be seen was from where the sleeves came to an end. Thick veins snaked down burly arms where the sinew and muscle could be seen flexing just beneath the surface. Connected to those were large hands with pronounced knuckles attaching to creepily long, thick fingers that ended in inch long pointed nails. Though appearing completely solid and of the physical realm, the figure was completely devoid of color; the robe and skin of the thing was a white so pure and empty that it was almost blinding to look at directly. The only bit of the figure that wasn't immaculate was the deep shadows seen within the hood and sleeves and the bright, blood red coloring of the trim that went around the emptiness of the open hood. Along with that there was what appeared to be blood red vertical halo that hovered just behind the projection's hooded head. There was a particular air about the projection that would be highly discontenting to the man in front of it. It wasn't necessarily that it meant him any harm, it was just that there was simply something about it just being there that was just intrinsically disturbing in a way that most living things were simply unfamiliar with. Without a word, the monochrome figure then held an upturned palm towards the fallen weapon, making an unheard beckoning command. The sword then vanished into thin air, only to appear as an extremely faded, lightly sparkling version of itself floating within the projection’s chest cavity. Finally, the entity turned its attention to the human before it, though there were no visible eyes to denote whether or not it was actually looking at him or not. There was simply that disturbing feeling once more, amplified times ten, that would let one know that they were now the target of its attention. The sound of the figure's twin male and female monotone voices was simultaneously hauntingly beautiful and painfully dreadful. Listening to it was torment in and of itself; it drew him in and enraptured him, made him want to hear despite himself, while at the same time causing him to want to cover his ears and scream, though such an attempt would only end in futility. The end result was that he could do nothing but feel terribly uncomfortable and pay the utmost attention whenever its voice broke the silence. "Was it you who awoke me? It is somewhat earlier than I had planned..." It paused, seeming to study Razarod for a split second. "It is detestable to be awoken by an inadequate unit, such as yourself… But no matter... What is your reason for awakening me, mortal? And where are the subordinates whose care I was originally entrusted to? Are you not one of their dependents? Speak quickly." |
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| Razarod | Aug 28 2011, 09:10 PM Post #3 |
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Angkar's Fallen Lord
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Suddenly a sound shot from... Was it from the sword? Before he could even think about it though, the sword burnt his hand like a hot iron, and he tossed it aside. Oddly enough, it wasn't giving off any heat once he was no longer touching. For just a second, Razarod thought it might be safe to pick it up again, but he quickly thought better of that. And then it appeared: a creature from within the sword, heavily robed, the only exposed skin being the muscular sinew of the being's arms, a brilliant white against the blackness of the night, just as the robe which concealed its face. The only hint of color came from a thin red trim around the garment, and the strange object of light behind its head. Suddenly the sword lifted from the earth and inserted itself into the creature's body, which seemed to turn its attention toward Razarod. It stared at Razarod, questioning him in a voice that was simultaneously beautiful and horrifying. It was several moments before Razarod could muster the strength to respond to it. Whatever it was. Was this a dream? He did not remember falling asleep... But maybe this was why Drium had wanted to get rid of the sword... The former monarch climbed to his feet, but even then was dwarfed by the being in front of him. Razarod stood more than two feet shorted than this entity, almost a full yard in fact. It seemed to hold an otherworldly power, and he knew there was no point in lying to it. "I am Razarod Evermore. Former King of Angkar. The sword was given to me by Drium, a demon. A sword I believe I recall having seen on Mirix's person once before. And I'm fairly certain they both believe I'm dead. In fact, word has it Drium attended my funeral not so long ago." Bravely, Razarod took a couple steps closer. "And you are... the sword? Drium spoke of this sword having special qualities, but he was not specific enough to include you." "Perhaps for good reason," Razarod thought to himself immediately afterward. What had he gotten himself into, taking this thing with him? It didn't seem to be too fond of its current wielder, and he had no idea how it would react. Could it harm him? Would it choose to do so? What would Razarod be able to do if it did? |
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| Mirix | Dec 4 2011, 01:06 AM Post #4 |
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The Insatiable
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The newly appeared entity continued to regard the former king with a silent, unwavering, and threatening intensity. It remained perfectly still, and picked up easily on the wave of intimidation that the human before it was now feeling. With no facial features to speak of, and appearing at the moment to be as solid and immobile as a statue as it awaited a response to the question posed, there was no way for the blue haired man to gauge what it was feeling; if it was feeling anything at all. When Razarod stood and began to speak, it appeared to listen closely, taking in the man's words and processing them in whatever faculties it possessed. However, when Razarod found himself bold and moved closer, the stark white entity reacted, leaning forward to the point where the empty blackness of its hood was perhaps only half a foot away from the man's face. Even at such a close range however, he'd be able to see nothing inside of it, perhaps because there was nothing inside it, or maybe the darkness was just that thick. Either way, all that would be able to be felt from the entity would be the lightest of breezes that brought with it one of the most bitter, otherworldly coldness. "I am Badimo." It stated simply and matter-of-factly, though it refrained from continuing on with any further explanation of its existence. "It would appear, if I am to take your words as they are, that Nokturnus' behavior continues to go against our Law and become increasingly erratic; his actions are now proving to be quite the nuisance." The entity pulled away from Razarod then, standing again at its full height. "While there are many questions that arise in response to your explanation, Evermore, the most important at this time is as follows: 'To what end do you wish to make use of the power you have been entrusted with?'" |
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| Razarod | Dec 8 2011, 10:45 PM Post #5 |
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Angkar's Fallen Lord
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The former king could not help but feel his uncomfortableness increase as the demon drew ever nearer, until it was only a foot away from his face. Yet even then, Razarod could not make out the details that lay within the depths of that horrid shroud, the face that lay buried in shadow, out of reach from his groping eyes. Finally, the demon intruduced itself. Badimo. So that was the name of this sword, this monstrosity sporting a blade, that he had been carrying ever since he had left the castle. That explained many things: The fact that the instrument of battle took no damage, despite not even being made out of a proper metal! It also explained the feeling that the weapon bestowed upon him: Oh how he was struck with a sense of foreboding, a looming sensation of a violently dark nature, every time he wielded this blade. Now Razarod knew, certainly it was the demon inside that he was feeling! What to do now? Common sense told the navy-haired man that he should cast this weapon aside, into the mountains to rot, never to be seen again. But alas, he could do no such thing for he was dependent upon this device to defend himself. Perhaps he could replace it in time, but now he had not that option. Now the creature was returned to his full height, looming well over even this giant monolith of a man. "To what end do I intend to use your power? Why, that is an easy question to answer: It is Orion who I seek. Moghul de Lacey, the very man who had me murdered! I must strike away at his organization, piece by piece, until the walls he has built around himself, both of stone and of man, have crumbled. And then I must do to him what he so endeavored to do to me! But where he has failed, I can not." From the moment it was uttered, his accursed plan was doomed. He knew it from the start: for all of Ashoka was now Orion's military arm, and how could one man presume to strike it all down? It was a question to be answered when the time came, but for now, he knew only that he had to try. Try to bring Orion to his knees, to draw from him his last breath, to exact his revenge on the man who had ripped his world away from him. |
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