|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Nov 29, 2016 1:27 pm
Enter from The Grand Sea Cathedral
On top of being the center of government for Lukhan's Landing, Villiath Palace also guarded one of the world's greatest stores of knowledge. Even information elusive to the far reaches of Port Acedia had a chance of being found in the depths of the vault that lay somewhere beneath the palace. Perhaps it wasn't beneath it at all, but simply had an entrance at the palace. For obvious reasons, not much was known about this national treasure by an outsider like Nai.
However, the vault was there, and with it, the possibility of the information Nai sought. That was all the reason she needed to approach the palace and ask if someone could retrieve a map of Essfraxon. Perhaps a bit extreme, but she had tried every other possible, more efficient approach. Wasted effort, but stuff like that was bound to happen eventually.
Although deciding to go in and actually going in were two separate things entirely. Hooded and clothed completely in black, it was no small wonder that the guards turned Nai aside straight from the gates. Although, their terms for entry were reasonable. They would consider granting Nai entrance if she showed her face, identified herself, and stated the purpose for her visit. Basic protocol for any mysterious visitor, really, especially for one who appeared as shrouded in suspicious secrecy as Nai.
Nai complied to the demands, lowering her hood and introducing herself with no emotion, "Name: Nai. Nation: none. Purpose: Information… from the vault." There was a short pause where Nai recognized that simply requesting "information" was too little information to let the personnel know her purpose. Otherwise, her words flowed out crisply one after another.
Neither her name nor her face reminded the guards of any criminal, and while her allegiance to no nation was suspect, unaffiliated mercenaries like her were no strange sight. They cautiously allowed her to enter the palace, reminding her to keep her face shown throughout the visit and throwing veiled warnings that should she make any trouble in the palace she would regret it. The guards weren't bad men, though. They were just suspicious and it wasn't like they were out to hinder the suspicious visitor. Amid the cautious warning, there were also parting words explaining that she would need an audience with either the ruler or his second in command and where she would be able to meet them.
Once more, Nai complied. She had no intention of making trouble and she accepted the helpful directions the guards had given her. Winding her way through the unknown halls, mind mentally mapping the building's layout from what she could see, Nai silently walked to where the guards had told her those who wished to meet the emperor should first gather. She would go straight for the top, and the top was conveniently also someone Nai had once met: Akeem. She recognized the figure and name and had matched it with the obviously well known ruler of Aramil. She did not expect any favors from their brief meeting, but not having to introduce herself would save time and effort.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 4:21 pm
Nai left the palace grounds without incident after finishing her errand. The emperor was in and agreeable. However, the information he could offer was only a little more than what Nai had already found. With how elusive information on Essfraxon, even just this little bit more was a lot, but that didn't mean it was a satisfactory amount for the ever careful wanderer. Should she ever need to travel to Essfraxon, she would be in want of information. This was the problem she had set out to solve and it had not been. It was only slightly relieved.
There was no more Nai could do, though. Whether she be dissatisfied or satisfied, this was the end of what she could reasonably achieve. The next step would be to travel Essfraxon herself, but, Her body and powers were changing. It wasn't just the change in Sin earlier, the powers she held over time were also reshaping, fitting themselves into a new mold in the world. She would not take such a risk when her powers were in such flux.
However, according to the gossip on the streets, there was a plague everywhere else. Gods were fighting... again. It appeared everywhere was just as dangerous, and Nai had nothing to gain from associating with the plague or gods. Arguably, she had little to gain from venturing into the unknown danger of unknown lands, but there was gain. She would expand the reach of her knowledge, gaining more room to roam. The more places she could escape to, the better.
It wasn't much better, but Nai chose to venture into the unmapped wilderness of the East. Again, Nai chose to drift away from civilization.
Exit to Essfraxon
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Dec 11, 2016 8:39 am
It had...certainly been a long journey to get here. His mind, so torn between revolt and restraint, was currently hanging by a thread in its current state. For centuries, the choice to rebel against the modern era had been present, like a small spike in his mind, constantly aggravating a wound that refused to leave him. That would was--of course--when he first bent the knee, when Amias first became a servant of Nocturne...of Azazel. The wound had festered into a pained bitterness long ago...and then into reservation. For centuries, the former Pagan had maintained a guise of nonchalance and sarcasm, hoping it would drive away any with that rebellious spark. For fear that it would reignite that side of him. The fighter, the murderer...the conqueror. If that visage ever returned, one of two things was bound to happen; the destruction of Amias Nicht...or destruction en masse. There was really no middle ground, and the culmination of his emotions was to blame.
Even now, as he landed on the masterfully crafted, marble stairways leading to Villath Palace, a sort of mental gymnastics was going on within, the vulnerable man struggling with his sudden fall from prominence once again, as it had been long ago. Before long, Amias had already been surrounded by the palace guard, his second appearance being just as well-received as last time. "Take it easy, gentleman; I'm here to discuss the state of affairs with Emperor Bastion. I come in peace." Just like last time, they lowered their spears, preparing to escort him into the castle now that he'd been properly greeted. Apparently, picking on him was a tradition that had carried over from centuries past. From Nocturne. How cute. Instead, he would take his first step with guard 'escort', and start into the palace--
"That...will be more than enough, Nicht. Your entrance into this palace is no longer permitted. We don't need lost dogs wandering into our home with their dirty, sullied paws." A gruff, manly voice greeted Amias at the head of the stairs. Who stood before him was not only the Army General, Dagon Mentes. Next to him was one of Bastion's top advisors, Maria du Soliel. Both of them were extremely high-ranking members within the empire, really only second to Damian and Bastion. "Raise your spears again, men, and don't lower them until the demon has left this place with his shoddy tail tucked in between his legs. And I definitely don't want to repeat myself, demon; get the hell out of Aramil, and never return." His hand rested on the hilt of his blade, ready to draw and join the fray at any moment. It was unfortunate, but...in the face of so many guards trained with the same military practice as him, on top of General Dagon...indeed, Amias would be at a stark disadvantage if it came to martial combat. In terms of energy, however...
It was then that he saw it. The advisor, Maria...her staff was glowing with a strange energy. Even now, the demon could feel that his energy wasn't responding to him as it normally would. The magic she was channeling had restricted the flow of his energy to a minute amount. He hadn't felt like this since he was a Novice...how embarrassing. "I'm not sure I understand, General Dagon. I was sent by Kamilla to report--"
"To report your expulsion from the ranks of Val'Ghast, and to most likely try and weasel your way into our military instead. I know your kind, demon; Akeem may have shakily agreed to the alliance during his time, but I know better. I know you're nothing better than a betrayer and a coward. Eventually, you would have found a way to wriggle yourself into prominence here, maybe even take a few lives on the way there. And then it'd be the emperor. No matter what happens, even if means you rot in at the bottom of a wurmhole...you'll never get close to Aramillan officials again. Did you really think it was going to be that easy? That you'd just cozy up to the QUEEN of monsters? You're a fool, Amias. There have been other forces at play this whole time, and you're nothing more than a puppet, being jerked around on our strings, on OUR terms. Don't assume you've ever been anything more than a pawn. And unfortunately...we decided that your usefulness has expired. So now we've decided to be rid of you." If he was speaking in such a way, it could only mean one thing. If he was being entirely candid about this, entirely truthful...then...
"You can't possibly mean..." Normally, the demon wasn't so dumbfounded. But, given the situation at hand, and his already fragile mental state...this was too much to take in at once. He couldn't restrain himself, but he didn't want to lose it all either. The war within was reaching a tragic climax; would he accept this and continue his path of subservience to the higher power? Would he continue to accept the strength of authority, and respect the effectiveness of the chain of command? These thoughts raced through his mind, each intersecting with the other until it formed a maelstrom of restraint vs response. He couldn't continue like this. His hands started to quiver, and the demon let out a cold sweat while he struggled to contain himself, earning a callous chuckle from the guards surrounding him.
"I already told you I don't like repeating myself? Are you deaf? Do you want me to write it down for you? Kamilla and I made this arrangement the moment you set foot in Aramil the first time; we know you're dangerous, so instead of letting the problem grow, we decided to pull it out at the roots as soon as your usefulness had come to an end. Case in point; we don't need you, we don't want you, and we sure as hell don't like you. So leave, you expired old man, and if you ever set foot in Aramil again, it'll be my blade that takes off that smug head of yours. Begone, filth." There it was. The confirmation. The acknowledgment that every action he'd taken to assist had been the machination of gods and man once again. Another effort to ridicule him. Another opportunity to make a fool out of him in front of all those he thought he ruled. As his wings spread, and the demon lifted off into the sky, he was greeted once again by the mocking, tainted laughter of those who evidently had more power than him. It wasn't long before he felt Maria's grip over his energy fade, but it was far too late for him to turn back.
To be honest, he hadn't even thought of turning back. That little spike, the remnants of that old persona of his had wedged so deeply into the reserved shell guarding his mind. It started to crack, and these conversations--no, these ghastly humiliations and insults to his person--had driven that stake so close to breaking in, so painfully close. It felt as though one more nudge would set him over that peak and back to the old days. It was so tempting, and he was so close; who did he have to impress anymore? Who honestly cared about whether or not Amias Nicht, the once again crowned king of nothing, wanted to love them or to kill them? By now, he was so sick of the chain of command that it made him want to vomit. All order, authority, and that chain had ever done was manipulate and torment him.
'I don't like the way you're thinking, Amias. You'd better snap back in line, or I'm not going to support you. My representatives must do everything in their power to maintain order, civilization, and the chain of command. Even if it means facing humiliations like those.' The voice of Raphael permeated his mind, temporarily breaking his concentration on how much he hated the concepts Raph was speaking of. Though, him bringing them up again just served to fester the wounds and drive the spike just a small, teensy bit further.
'I don't need the chain of command, Raphael. I don't need to be stepped on by men with their fancy clothes and their big words. I will not stand for a system that abuses and humiliates its people.' Intelligently spoken, but most definitely not the answer Raphael was looking for. Even before his final rebuttal...Amias could feel it. The mark on his back, it was starting to fade. Raphael's energy was starting to leave him like a stream, flowing back down into hell where its owner resided. The man could feel his body weaken, his wings struggling more and more to support him. Before long, he began to descend. Unfortunately, he was over the water, with just...just a short while more before he reached the land. Though, it wouldn't take that long for the water to reach him; it began to rain, and somewhat heavily. All around him, the farms of Aramil were now reaping the benefits of this rain. And yet all it did for him was even further bleaken the mood. Slowly, he fell with the raindrops towards the coast, feeling progressively weaker as the energies of west depopulated his body.
'if you're not going to be of use to me, Amias, then you have no claim to my power. From now on, try not to be an enemy of order; I may not particularly like what you're doing, but it'd be a shame to have to smite you.' As his voice faded...so too did the last fragments of his power. At that point--with the aftereffects of Maria's energy locking, and the loss of so much internal power, Amias went into free fall for the last twenty feet, landing at that sweet spot where the water was just shallow enough to 'not' break his fall. How convenient. With a splash and a couple rolls to the side, the demon was weak, wet, and covered in dirt. Slowly, he crawled to the edge of the beach, taking care not to fall back into the water. After what felt like an eternity, Amias finally arrived at somewhat dry land. For a while, he would remain there, on his hands and knees, just staring at the sand-turned-mud. His mind raced through the happenings of the day, trying desperately to quantify and repress it so that he could maintain his shell.
But the lack of West's energy, and what that meant...it was the final nudge. Without resistance, the shell broke. The being that Amias once was...what he was restraining...he was back. When his eyes opened again, there existed a burning, feral hunger within them. Ambition. Desire. Anger. These emotions stewed within him like a cauldron, and when his face rose to the sky, the words that came from his mouth...were completely unlike his previous disposition.
"Where is MY power, MY fame, MY GLORY?! For too long, I've seen my success in the hands of another! It ends NOW!" Screaming at the sky--at no one in particular--with a primal fury; it was Amias' cry of war. War against Azazel, against Eklyopter, against House Daxos. Against Fenrir, against Liliana and the rest of those would-be rulers, those fake kings and queens on their stupid, gold-plated chairs and their servants aplenty. ******** them, them and everything their reign embodies. He didn't need any of these things anymore. And with that final realization, Amias' head tilted back down to the sand, where he would rest for a short while. Then, it faded to black...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 16, 2017 10:40 am
""
As he declared it, so it would be. Some number of months had passed since Amias' last visit to the palace, and yet...the amount of change within that time had passed centuries of oppression in its magnitude. Once the palace was within sight, the airborne Siphon would quicken his advance, knowing all too well that the guards would immediately notify their lords no sooner than they saw those trademark black wings. It wasn't long before the bell started to toll, though they were mostly too late anyway; the man had already landed on the very same steps to the castle upon which he'd tread so recently. Today was going to be a wonderful show for everyone involved; especially those who'd betrayed him so easily. Before Amias had time to ponder the options laid before him, a plethora of armed guards had already appeared, as if summoned from thin air. Spears, swords, and shield were brandished and practically gleaming at the idea of getting some use. "Halt, intruder! State your business!" A formality. Every warrior on those steps knew of Amias Nicht. Truth be told, these were most of the selfsame guards that witnessed his retreat the first time he'd arrived. Unfortunately for them, the outcome wouldn't be quite similar this time. With a bored look on his face, the Siphon beckoned for them wordlessly, as though accepting an unspoken challenge to duel.
And advance they did. Likely, the soldiers within the castle had been deprived of combat for so long, they hungered to swing their blades at real flesh and blood. Unfortunately for them, the particular being they challenged wasn't entirely interested in them. No matter their numbers or their skills, the result would be the same; they were frail, fragile humans. Slow as molasses and as soft as warm butter. He perceived their movements nearly in slow motion, weaving and dancing around their blades as he unceremoniously tore the weapons from their hands, casting them far down the stairs and out of reach. It wasn't long before he'd disarmed each man in the group, leaving them with the choice of an unarmed brawl or a long run down the stairs. As amusing as it would have been, none chose the latter, instead opting to start swinging.
What resulted looked almost as ridiculous as one of those poorly-scripted martial arts demonstrations. It quickly became evident that none of these men had truly trained in unarmed combat before; straight punches thrown without momentum, or hardly any support from the shoulder. Their wrists were loose to the point where one man nearly tore the muscles in his wrist from hyperextending them upon impact. And even these observations were forgiving the lackluster strength of their fists. To be hit with a flimsy pool noodle was more annoying than anything else. So, in a stroke of mercy, Amias merely knocked the men unconscious; they weren't his targets, and most definitely not the objects of his vengeance. It seemed, all he had to do was think of the devils, and they came. When his vision turned back to the gates, Maria and Dagon were there, waiting patiently for him to look up from his playthings. With a sly smirk, he replied in kind, "The guests of honor have finally decided to show themselves! At first, I really was afraid you weren't going to humor me." A quick jeer to start the conversation off was never a bad way to go, especially when you were trying to start s**t.
"I believe I made myself perfectly clear the last time we met, demon." He'd grown to appreciate the sound of Dagon's voice. Especially the sounds it would make as he were ruthlessly ripped apart. Though, that wasn't quite on the menu for today; Amias wasn't fond of making a scene quite yet with his new powers. He knew how to use them, the Siphon just hadn't had a good chance to test himself yet. Which was exactly why he'd decided to come and play with the mortals a bit. So far, he was beyond jovial. "But since you've decided to neglect my warning and show yourself here again, there's no more mercy. Maria, let's put a leash on the mutt." Nodding wordlessly, the aforementioned woman extended her staff, preparing to use the same sort of magical suppression magic she had last time. This time, Amias could feel it; similar to the goddess' energy, a suppressing wave of energy began to take shape around him, attempting to seep into his own supply and dramatically reduce its flow. It was interesting, being able to actually feel the process this time. Though, one thing he did note was that the power seeme dto be coming more from the staff, and less from Maria herself. Perhaps it was some sort of artifact? It would explain why it seemed so potent, even on creatures that were likely multitudes more powerful than her. So, he decided to give his newfound powers practical use for the first time.
In an effort that seemed almost as natural as breathing, Amias began to siphon the power out of the air. As quickly as it had come, the aura of suppression around him began to fade, returning his energy level to its original, ridiculous splendor. Once the chains had been lifted, the Siphon turned his attention to the still-channeling Maria, whose normally calm demeanor had been replaced with a ghastly scowl. "You...what have you done?!" Apparently, she was upset that someone had debunked her little trick. As would any aspiring magus, most likely. The egotistical pricks they were, mages. Instead of humbling her questions, he merely extended his palm, focusing his siphoning now onto her staff. No sooner than he'd started to pull energy from it were his suspicions confirmed; the energy he pulled from the staff was of a completely different nature than what he detected within her body. It was definitely a conduit of some kind, meant to enhance the potency of her energy. If it were indeed a conduit, that would mean it had some kind of core. With a core, he could siphon the energy forming the conduit, and make the item useless unless it were remade.
With this in mind, he took a brief scan of the item itself, thankful that Dagon's smug self had contented himself to watching and sneering. What he found was that a large majority of the staff was not only constructed--but held together--by energy. From this realization, a wicked snarl played on his face; the revenge he was about to take would be delicious. "I do appreciate the time you've taken to play with me today, Maria and Dagon." Extending his palm towards the staff itself, Amias began to siphon energy from every nook and cranny of the item, quickly draining the supports that kept the staff together. "I'm so glad you came out to visit me again, even after I've been away for so long. It was very disrespectful of me, not making sure to take time out of my day to come and check up." The look on Maria's face went from confusion to sheer terror as her staff started to break away in spades. As the magic comprising it was stolen, it practically turned to dust within her hands, leaving only the gem that once served as its catalyst to call into the palm of her hand. Her gaze turned to him once more, the terror that once inhabited it now turned to an almost panicked sorrow. Clearly the item had been special to her, likely something of a family heirloom or a gift from a fallen comrade. Yes, most likely one of those feel-good stories for privilege born humans.
"My staff...you...how...?" Maria was awestruck. Never had anyone challenged her artifact's power before, let alone counteracted it. Dagon finally decided to respond, and was drawing his weapon when Amias turned to leave them. He stood fast, waiting for some sort of clever ploy or attack that would never come. The Siphon's wings spread, and as he made to take off, Maria's voice would chime once more, "You're...a demon! An absolute wretch! We're going to kill you for this!" My, my...what a rash, vindictive woman. Perhaps she should use language more befitting of her almighty status?
As he turned his head to respond, the Siphon spoke. "No, Maria. I'm not a demon." His head finished turning, and as he spoke, he looked towards them with his turned eye. An audible gasp from both as they gazed upon the ferocious, electric orange hue that greeted them. "Thanks to you and yours, I've become something far more than that." Without another word, the Siphon lifted off in the air, his message having been successfully delivered. Now, it was time to get briefed on the situation in Geshan. Perhaps one of his old contacts had some information to share?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
