Anastasia only looked away slightly. "Not now...." Her tone inductive of more important thoughts yet it was no doubt a shamefulwho memory. But to he honest, she had no answer for her actions and no justification.
The Guardians of London: Fourth Echelon (Chapter Two)
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Ryan watched the exchange with light confusion...
What happened between them?
No clue... You brought that crossbow of yours right?
You saw me pack it.
Right...
Why are you asking anyway?
That creature.
Huh?
You may need to shoot it.
I'm doubting the crossbow would do much even if I tried.
The quintessance bolts would.
I'm not killing it.
But it's in pain.
How would you know?
Look at it.
And...
Nothing that altered comes out sane or comfortable.
Yeah and having two people in your head does wonders by comparison.
...
Exactly
He looks down at his watch trying to avoid eye contact.
What happened between them?
No clue... You brought that crossbow of yours right?
You saw me pack it.
Right...
Why are you asking anyway?
That creature.
Huh?
You may need to shoot it.
I'm doubting the crossbow would do much even if I tried.
The quintessance bolts would.
I'm not killing it.
But it's in pain.
How would you know?
Look at it.
And...
Nothing that altered comes out sane or comfortable.
Yeah and having two people in your head does wonders by comparison.
...
Exactly
He looks down at his watch trying to avoid eye contact.
He recalled his first, actual, interaction with the Illrian Knighthood.
Sinclair had clashed with the Knighthood before of course, first in South America and then in Europe, but they didn?t know anything about him. They only knew of a Thaumaturgist sniper that had a penchant for sudden, overwhelming precision strikes that frequently paralyzed large scale movements for days that always came at the worst times. His actions saved the Astaroth Thaumaturgist Coven of South America from extinction by the Knighthood?s hands, and saved the Amon Cult in northern Scandinavia from the same. It wasn?t until they had destroyed the Harlem Coven that they found information on him, and not until Cuba that they had any meaningful interaction with him.
Of course, that interaction led to a rather unpleasant experience he rather try not to think about, as well as a bounty on his head, it wasn?t a particularly productive interaction by anyone?s standards.
So, even if he was now a part of the Knighthood, even if he was saved by them and even if he was now walking down their halls in the middle of one of their bases in Scotland surrounded by knights that had saved him from an unpleasant death, he refused to actually loosen up. He fully expected thid be part of a radical new form of long term torture and execution, and the only reason he knew his mind wasn?t locked within a self-perpetuating reality was because he quintuple-checked it with his own Imperiomancy.
Oh come now partner, the Knighthood ain?t so bad, once you get to know them.
?Oh I do know them Baltreth, I had to study their tactics and operational protocol to get a relatively accurate picture of their organization so that I could rip it apart more effectively. I?m pretty sure I know more than most at this point.?
He could feel Baltreth roll it?s eyes in annoyance.
You are an Illrian know Mr. Sinclair, you?re one of them. Even if they might hate or fear you, you are still one of them. They will not harm or kill you.
Sinclair smirked. ?As long as I continue to prove useful correct??
A smile from his partner.
Correct
He had recovered his weapons and belongings. His AW50 he left in a container that he handed to servants who would bring it, and the rest of his materials, into the room they had furnished for him. The AW50 itself was put in a case with a hair trigger that would activate several pounds of napalm into a concentrated funnel at a perceived interloper, as he still did not trust the Illrians to play nice. His Stetyr TMP he had on him, hidden under the right folds of a russian style coat, as was his SA80 on his left. He was carrying his briefcase, in which both his Zastava and Walther were in, making it somewhat heavy, as Sinclair was hesitant to let go of more weapons that he perceived necessary. Baltreth snorted at his partner?s paranoia but said nothing.
They came across a large, suitably dramatic, pair of doors. Wooden. Probably scottish pine. Nicely furnished, with little carvings on it that he didn?t quite understand the significance off.
Unlike earlier, his...minders, opened the door for him to enter instead of barging into it like a dramatic wind. Sinclair nodded gratefully to them and entered.
He was greeted to the sight of a very long hall, with several figures at the end of it. He walked forward, hands on his pockets ready to whip out one of his weapons if need be. He had been generating a field of deceit around him since he had the castle within his sights. The field was constantly altering the viewpoints of anyone looking at him, giving them subtle tugs that would give him a general estimation of ?forgettable? and ?mild? and most importantly ?not dangerous? while at the same time masking his weapons from their sight. He doubted it would work very well here, so decided on an alternative. He ramped up his illusory weakness to a point of it being almost obvious if one knew where to look, while going to great pains to hide his weapons. The more obvious illusion would mask the more subtle one, giving him more to work with.
As he approached, he recognized the man talking to the woman as Silas Grey, which immediately put him on edge. Brought to meet one of the Founding Illrian Knights? Not in anyway good at all. He had a vague feeling of familiarity with everyone else however, which was also most definetly not good. He hadn?t met any of them, so the only reason he?d have a sense of familiarity is if he?d read up on them in previous assassinations, either as targets or persons of interest. How fortuitous.
He took his place farthest away from the others while attempting to get as wide a view as possible. He wanted to have time to analyze his ?fellows?.
Sinclair had clashed with the Knighthood before of course, first in South America and then in Europe, but they didn?t know anything about him. They only knew of a Thaumaturgist sniper that had a penchant for sudden, overwhelming precision strikes that frequently paralyzed large scale movements for days that always came at the worst times. His actions saved the Astaroth Thaumaturgist Coven of South America from extinction by the Knighthood?s hands, and saved the Amon Cult in northern Scandinavia from the same. It wasn?t until they had destroyed the Harlem Coven that they found information on him, and not until Cuba that they had any meaningful interaction with him.
Of course, that interaction led to a rather unpleasant experience he rather try not to think about, as well as a bounty on his head, it wasn?t a particularly productive interaction by anyone?s standards.
So, even if he was now a part of the Knighthood, even if he was saved by them and even if he was now walking down their halls in the middle of one of their bases in Scotland surrounded by knights that had saved him from an unpleasant death, he refused to actually loosen up. He fully expected thid be part of a radical new form of long term torture and execution, and the only reason he knew his mind wasn?t locked within a self-perpetuating reality was because he quintuple-checked it with his own Imperiomancy.
Oh come now partner, the Knighthood ain?t so bad, once you get to know them.
?Oh I do know them Baltreth, I had to study their tactics and operational protocol to get a relatively accurate picture of their organization so that I could rip it apart more effectively. I?m pretty sure I know more than most at this point.?
He could feel Baltreth roll it?s eyes in annoyance.
You are an Illrian know Mr. Sinclair, you?re one of them. Even if they might hate or fear you, you are still one of them. They will not harm or kill you.
Sinclair smirked. ?As long as I continue to prove useful correct??
A smile from his partner.
Correct
He had recovered his weapons and belongings. His AW50 he left in a container that he handed to servants who would bring it, and the rest of his materials, into the room they had furnished for him. The AW50 itself was put in a case with a hair trigger that would activate several pounds of napalm into a concentrated funnel at a perceived interloper, as he still did not trust the Illrians to play nice. His Stetyr TMP he had on him, hidden under the right folds of a russian style coat, as was his SA80 on his left. He was carrying his briefcase, in which both his Zastava and Walther were in, making it somewhat heavy, as Sinclair was hesitant to let go of more weapons that he perceived necessary. Baltreth snorted at his partner?s paranoia but said nothing.
They came across a large, suitably dramatic, pair of doors. Wooden. Probably scottish pine. Nicely furnished, with little carvings on it that he didn?t quite understand the significance off.
Unlike earlier, his...minders, opened the door for him to enter instead of barging into it like a dramatic wind. Sinclair nodded gratefully to them and entered.
He was greeted to the sight of a very long hall, with several figures at the end of it. He walked forward, hands on his pockets ready to whip out one of his weapons if need be. He had been generating a field of deceit around him since he had the castle within his sights. The field was constantly altering the viewpoints of anyone looking at him, giving them subtle tugs that would give him a general estimation of ?forgettable? and ?mild? and most importantly ?not dangerous? while at the same time masking his weapons from their sight. He doubted it would work very well here, so decided on an alternative. He ramped up his illusory weakness to a point of it being almost obvious if one knew where to look, while going to great pains to hide his weapons. The more obvious illusion would mask the more subtle one, giving him more to work with.
As he approached, he recognized the man talking to the woman as Silas Grey, which immediately put him on edge. Brought to meet one of the Founding Illrian Knights? Not in anyway good at all. He had a vague feeling of familiarity with everyone else however, which was also most definetly not good. He hadn?t met any of them, so the only reason he?d have a sense of familiarity is if he?d read up on them in previous assassinations, either as targets or persons of interest. How fortuitous.
He took his place farthest away from the others while attempting to get as wide a view as possible. He wanted to have time to analyze his ?fellows?.
I?m going to assume that servants in the castle, whether made of flesh or not, brought our stuff to our respective rooms? I won?t be able to fit any more weapons onto Sinclair at the moment.
Also, can our Illrians speak to other Illrians without the possession thing?
Also, can our Illrians speak to other Illrians without the possession thing?
Illrians can use your voice to speak to other Illrians, the way that Silas is letting Malachi speak through him.
Malachi sat down again, Anastasia at his left. Malachi smiled at the new Knights, though myriad and strange in their new forms they were true Knights deep within...they had the capacity for good and the ruthless determination needed. Malachi could see each and every Knight, from the porcelain beast that sat like a statue among them to the former killer and Thaumaturgist who had for so long been a thorn in the side of the Guardians and had escaped damnation only because Silas himself had been distracted by things more dire. Malachi stood, and addressed those assembled.
"[font color=purple]Knights of the Maledictum; Il Arduo C'et Pas Et-Lu,in the journey you were strengthened. Il Akai Tel Aurae, in battle you were tempered. Il Asera Per Aspera, in your aspirations...greatness. But all that you once were is now gone, Damnatio, and as the bloom falls from the tree a new bud awakens. You are Illrian, bonded body and soul to one of us...ancient and forever. With two minds you are strong, with two minds you are wise, with two minds you will find victory over all evil. Called by my host's letters from every place the wind touches, you came. Now my host, who has been resting from his own journey here wishes to extend his own greeting to you all.[/font]" said Malachi, his voice booming through the hall.
Silas' eyes dimmed to their normal color and Silas said "I am proud to introduce you to the ancient home of the Knighthood you are now a part of. A formality, before I begin...and ancient oath was sworn here at the heels of the Illrian Shadow...he or she who takes up the dark mantle leads the Maledictum in perfect tandem, casting a long shadow over the forces of evil. Kneel here, before me that I might bless each and every one of you and that those of you who have not Awakened shall do so and show me your horns."
Silas drew his blade, a long black Daemon blade tempered from ebony and its edge made from sharpened silver. Its length glowed with purple runes, spelling its name in Acrypha to those who could read it, "Nemesis"
Silas held the blade forward and flat, angled up in blessing. "Kneel before the Illrian Shadow, your leader and bane of all those who dare do evil works in the Light's realms. May all those who serve the Destroyer quake with fear at our names, that our legacy continue until the end of time."
You're going to have to let me out.
Why?
Because he said so.
That's a reason?
Yes...
Fine.
Ryan allows himself to be overtaken by Zariel. His skin turning paler, his arms and legs lengthening slightly, the ends of his fingers becoming clawlike, and finally a pair of silvery horns extending from the sides of his head (their appearance is along the lines of a DND black dragon's, but less wide, and silver).
He walks up and kneels infront of Silas.
Why?
Because he said so.
That's a reason?
Yes...
Fine.
Ryan allows himself to be overtaken by Zariel. His skin turning paler, his arms and legs lengthening slightly, the ends of his fingers becoming clawlike, and finally a pair of silvery horns extending from the sides of his head (their appearance is along the lines of a DND black dragon's, but less wide, and silver).
He walks up and kneels infront of Silas.
Outside of the castle, a cloaked figure stood and appraised the building. It certainly was formidable looking, but it was nothing compared to the palaces of her homeworld. It had been so long since that day, where she had taken her first life. Since then, she had trained with the last Avenger and grew stronger with each passing year. Hidden by her large cloak, she gently touched the sword that she had recieved by Silas so long ago. The sword that beheaded the greatest evil that had invaded Faerie. Even with her large cloak, one would be able to tell that she was small. A human ten year old would be able to meet her size easily.
As the small figure walked to the entrance, she recalled just how she had come to this place, and why. Since the defeat of the Dark Skull, she hadn't seen Silas in ages, and then out of the blue he came to her world to invite her to a gathering. One that would be of great importance. She didn't really know what was going on, but she knew that this would be the best opportunity to test what she had learned over the years. No longer an apprentice Avenger, she knew that she had to root out darkness wherever it popped up, so that it wouldn't be able to invade her home world like the Dark Skull had been able to do.
Reaching the entrance, she opened the large doors and stepped in before lowering her hood and revealing her Fae features. Long, light red hair kept in a ponytail was finally free to hang down in the open air and her blue eyes examined the insides of the castle. Once more she felt a small bit of impression, but she still believed that the Fae architecture was superior. Shrugging to herself, she walked down the hall and towards what she assumed was the main room, judging by the size of the door. The servants she had asked also confirmed that it was where she was to go for the gathering. Wondering what adventures she would get into this time, she pushed open the doors and entered.
The sight was a little bit surprising at first. She was used to seeing people gathered before, but this was on a whole other level from those. These people were skilled, she could tell that much just from a first glance. Afterwards, she tried to identify anyone that she knew. Most of the people in the hall were completely unfamiliar but she did recognize one of the gathered. A person she knew very well. Excitement grew in her heart as she called out in a voice that matched her child-like form. "Hadrian! It's good to see you!" She waved happily at her old friend and knew that this adventure was going to be just as exciting as the first one she had.
As the small figure walked to the entrance, she recalled just how she had come to this place, and why. Since the defeat of the Dark Skull, she hadn't seen Silas in ages, and then out of the blue he came to her world to invite her to a gathering. One that would be of great importance. She didn't really know what was going on, but she knew that this would be the best opportunity to test what she had learned over the years. No longer an apprentice Avenger, she knew that she had to root out darkness wherever it popped up, so that it wouldn't be able to invade her home world like the Dark Skull had been able to do.
Reaching the entrance, she opened the large doors and stepped in before lowering her hood and revealing her Fae features. Long, light red hair kept in a ponytail was finally free to hang down in the open air and her blue eyes examined the insides of the castle. Once more she felt a small bit of impression, but she still believed that the Fae architecture was superior. Shrugging to herself, she walked down the hall and towards what she assumed was the main room, judging by the size of the door. The servants she had asked also confirmed that it was where she was to go for the gathering. Wondering what adventures she would get into this time, she pushed open the doors and entered.
The sight was a little bit surprising at first. She was used to seeing people gathered before, but this was on a whole other level from those. These people were skilled, she could tell that much just from a first glance. Afterwards, she tried to identify anyone that she knew. Most of the people in the hall were completely unfamiliar but she did recognize one of the gathered. A person she knew very well. Excitement grew in her heart as she called out in a voice that matched her child-like form. "Hadrian! It's good to see you!" She waved happily at her old friend and knew that this adventure was going to be just as exciting as the first one she had.
The eerie porcelain creature that was Anthem and Seleda'an advanced at Silas' beckoning, intricate talons clicking on the stone flooor before it folded its body down to kneel on a slender knee. The skeletal white wings, useless but perhaps as weapons, unfurled briefly before sliding silently back into place on Anthem's back. And then it waited, head bowed.
But for the placid appearance on the outside, a rapid conversation was taking place on the inside.
It is a great honour, you know, to be chosen as an Illrian Knight, Seleda'an nearly purred, her voice honeylike, sliding smoothly about the inside of Anthem's skull.
I wouldn't know.
It's said that entire bloodlines are born for this singular purpose. That you were chosen marks you as someone... special.
Apparently.
Ah. Anthem was being difficult.
But you came when summoned of your own volition. Somewhere, something inside you said that you were worthy. Platitudes.
And that thing was you.
That may be. But look amongst your new comrades-- comrades. Could you ever claim anyone as your comrades before? You are the only but for Malachi, Silas Grey, to be winged! You are closer to the true Illrian power than any!
But they're malformed. They won't ever work.
Maybe. But it's a sign of a true merger-- two minds working seamlessly as one. You already wear my horns. Now Seleda'an was trying to impress him.
Why aren't we "truly merged", then?
It could be many things. Fear of having one's identity subsumed to create something new, until we die and are released anew..
I don't fear it. I'd welcome it. Life is suffering. Being used as a pawn. Being expendable. Why would I fear ego death?
It's not you who fears it. It's me.
The strange creature, like some enormous porcelain doll of an abstract angel, shuddered once before the Beauregard throne, but said nothing and betrayed no other signs of what transpired within. The wings twitched once.
And the creature waited.
But for the placid appearance on the outside, a rapid conversation was taking place on the inside.
It is a great honour, you know, to be chosen as an Illrian Knight, Seleda'an nearly purred, her voice honeylike, sliding smoothly about the inside of Anthem's skull.
I wouldn't know.
It's said that entire bloodlines are born for this singular purpose. That you were chosen marks you as someone... special.
Apparently.
Ah. Anthem was being difficult.
But you came when summoned of your own volition. Somewhere, something inside you said that you were worthy. Platitudes.
And that thing was you.
That may be. But look amongst your new comrades-- comrades. Could you ever claim anyone as your comrades before? You are the only but for Malachi, Silas Grey, to be winged! You are closer to the true Illrian power than any!
But they're malformed. They won't ever work.
Maybe. But it's a sign of a true merger-- two minds working seamlessly as one. You already wear my horns. Now Seleda'an was trying to impress him.
Why aren't we "truly merged", then?
It could be many things. Fear of having one's identity subsumed to create something new, until we die and are released anew..
I don't fear it. I'd welcome it. Life is suffering. Being used as a pawn. Being expendable. Why would I fear ego death?
It's not you who fears it. It's me.
The strange creature, like some enormous porcelain doll of an abstract angel, shuddered once before the Beauregard throne, but said nothing and betrayed no other signs of what transpired within. The wings twitched once.
And the creature waited.
Silas looked among the reluctant ones and spoke to reassure them.
"All of you are chosen, your families stewards of the greatest beings ever to walk the worlds. Illrians who give themselves to the Knighthood give their lives away to follow a single bloodline for eternity until the death of themselves or the bloodline they keep. Illrians give purpose to some, power to others. As you and your companions grow close, you will learn to unite fully for short times...becoming one mind and one voice. But this is only done in times of great need, but to demonstrate to you what an Illrian Knight's true form is I will show you."
Here a blackness consumed Silas and he vanished from all sight. It was a few moments, never moving his position. Emerging was a great muscled beast with black sinewy skin with purple veins showing in places. Between two great dark gray horns was a purple symbol, the Aht...Silrian for "to Punish", it burned strong between the horns...tendrils of purple fire snaking from the horns and holding the symbol tightly. Silas had great black wings veined purple and he played them fully, they were bat wings and they were strong. Silas looked among them now, the sword still held high in blessing.
"Do all of you swear upon the name of the Light that you will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer, thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all those who serve the Destroyer even to your dying breath?" asked Silas, his voice echoing over the assembled Knights, kneeling before him. In the moment of silence; he felt the Knights apprehension and his great demonic mouth smiled warmly. The sharp yellow teeth kept behind ink black lips.
"All of you are chosen, your families stewards of the greatest beings ever to walk the worlds. Illrians who give themselves to the Knighthood give their lives away to follow a single bloodline for eternity until the death of themselves or the bloodline they keep. Illrians give purpose to some, power to others. As you and your companions grow close, you will learn to unite fully for short times...becoming one mind and one voice. But this is only done in times of great need, but to demonstrate to you what an Illrian Knight's true form is I will show you."
Here a blackness consumed Silas and he vanished from all sight. It was a few moments, never moving his position. Emerging was a great muscled beast with black sinewy skin with purple veins showing in places. Between two great dark gray horns was a purple symbol, the Aht...Silrian for "to Punish", it burned strong between the horns...tendrils of purple fire snaking from the horns and holding the symbol tightly. Silas had great black wings veined purple and he played them fully, they were bat wings and they were strong. Silas looked among them now, the sword still held high in blessing.
"Do all of you swear upon the name of the Light that you will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer, thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all those who serve the Destroyer even to your dying breath?" asked Silas, his voice echoing over the assembled Knights, kneeling before him. In the moment of silence; he felt the Knights apprehension and his great demonic mouth smiled warmly. The sharp yellow teeth kept behind ink black lips.
Sinclair grimaced. 'Must I do this Baltreth?'
Yes you must. You're a knight now remember? Besides that, Malachi will not be pleased with disobedience. He never has. Neither does his host.
'I do not bow to anyone. This....Knighthood, is merely another tool. Like the Guardians were, and like the Thaumaturgists are.'
An amused laugh came from his partner.
A tool that saved your life and kept you from dying by the Guardians' hand. You know you wouldn't have made it as far as you did without me, and by extension, the Knighthood.
'True, and I am grateful, and I owe Silas a debt that will be repaid in time'
So what's the problem then?
Sinclair snorted as he moved forward, joining the ranks of those others who had already bowed. He looked at Grey's calm stance and cool eyes before kneeling, right knee going first
'I don't trust any power except my own.'
My dear host, do you trust anyone?
The Black Nail smiled grimly, his face to the ground as he remained silent.
Yes you must. You're a knight now remember? Besides that, Malachi will not be pleased with disobedience. He never has. Neither does his host.
'I do not bow to anyone. This....Knighthood, is merely another tool. Like the Guardians were, and like the Thaumaturgists are.'
An amused laugh came from his partner.
A tool that saved your life and kept you from dying by the Guardians' hand. You know you wouldn't have made it as far as you did without me, and by extension, the Knighthood.
'True, and I am grateful, and I owe Silas a debt that will be repaid in time'
So what's the problem then?
Sinclair snorted as he moved forward, joining the ranks of those others who had already bowed. He looked at Grey's calm stance and cool eyes before kneeling, right knee going first
'I don't trust any power except my own.'
My dear host, do you trust anyone?
The Black Nail smiled grimly, his face to the ground as he remained silent.
The Anthem creature, still kneeling, was seemingly unmoved by Silas' display, but that may have simply been its artificial stiffness in spite of such a finely shaped form.
"I swear, by the Light," it said, in sibilant voice, pitch shifting between Anthem's tenor and Selenda'an's own sultry tone. "That I will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer, thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all those who serve the Destroyer even to your dying breath."
And that was all it said. It held its position, waiting.
"I swear, by the Light," it said, in sibilant voice, pitch shifting between Anthem's tenor and Selenda'an's own sultry tone. "That I will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer, thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all those who serve the Destroyer even to your dying breath."
And that was all it said. It held its position, waiting.
Sinclair heard the creature's own oath, and thought for a moment.
"I swear, by the life of Silas Grey, to expend my debt to him through service to the Illrian Knighthood." The Black Nail swore quietly but firmly. "I will expend all effort to the elimination of the Destroyer and any of it's servants in my service to the Knighthood. I will thwart all evil that I see and protect the worlds from evil until the day that my debt is considered full, or until the day I die."
After those words, he held his position and waited for Silas to speak.
"I swear, by the life of Silas Grey, to expend my debt to him through service to the Illrian Knighthood." The Black Nail swore quietly but firmly. "I will expend all effort to the elimination of the Destroyer and any of it's servants in my service to the Knighthood. I will thwart all evil that I see and protect the worlds from evil until the day that my debt is considered full, or until the day I die."
After those words, he held his position and waited for Silas to speak.
Kishima was still waiting. He was quite irritated that his question went unanswered and ignore but then the little voice in his head had an idea.
<font color=green> Well they're waiting on you to you know... let me out.
Let you out? That's crazy! I don't trust you enough to let you possess me yet
<font color=green> So what, you're going to go up to that big scary thing in front of everyone and tell it that you're too scared to grow a couple horns and accept your destiny?
Damn fine, you win. But remember, you get dreams of world domination while inside me and they'll put us both down. Got it ?
<font color=green> Don't worry. I'd be a terrible guest if I did that and remember I still need you alive.
Kishima thought about this for a second. It was really a no brainer as refusing the big, scary creature was certain death. Ferous took over in an instant as if it was waiting for this moment his life. Kishima's dark grey skin lightened to resemble a thin grey colour. His arms and legs became longer with a few centimetres and a couple of white horns erupted from his head. So with reluctance he stepped forward and bent a knee next to the creature with the broken wings.
"I swear, by the Light" came out Ferous' voice who, at this point had completely taken over, "That I will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer, thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all those who serve the Destroyer even to my dying breath."
Kishima now held its position next to the creature with broken wings and awaiting the response.
<font color=green> Well they're waiting on you to you know... let me out.
Let you out? That's crazy! I don't trust you enough to let you possess me yet
<font color=green> So what, you're going to go up to that big scary thing in front of everyone and tell it that you're too scared to grow a couple horns and accept your destiny?
Damn fine, you win. But remember, you get dreams of world domination while inside me and they'll put us both down. Got it ?
<font color=green> Don't worry. I'd be a terrible guest if I did that and remember I still need you alive.
Kishima thought about this for a second. It was really a no brainer as refusing the big, scary creature was certain death. Ferous took over in an instant as if it was waiting for this moment his life. Kishima's dark grey skin lightened to resemble a thin grey colour. His arms and legs became longer with a few centimetres and a couple of white horns erupted from his head. So with reluctance he stepped forward and bent a knee next to the creature with the broken wings.
"I swear, by the Light" came out Ferous' voice who, at this point had completely taken over, "That I will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer, thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all those who serve the Destroyer even to my dying breath."
Kishima now held its position next to the creature with broken wings and awaiting the response.
I can't just run can I?
I wouldn't suggest you try.
In a stern tone Ryan spoke the oath "I swear upon the name of the Light that I will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer, thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all who serve the Destroyer even to my dying breath."
He waited for a response.
I wouldn't suggest you try.
In a stern tone Ryan spoke the oath "I swear upon the name of the Light that I will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer, thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all who serve the Destroyer even to my dying breath."
He waited for a response.
Hadrian remained standing, looking at Silas and the other people gathering around him with narrowed eyes. He stood in place, doing nothing, at least until a stabbing pain enveloped his head, causing him to grit his teeth in agony.
'What are you waiting for you stupid mutt?' Phaedra cried out in annoyance. Kneel before your master like a good dog!
Hadrian stepped forward reluctantly, and kneeled, looking down at the floor. The pain in his head receded, and was replaced with laughter.
'Ahahaha! Very good! Very good! Looks like you're able to follow orders after all,' Phaedra said in mock praise. 'Now change and take the oath, unless you want Silas tearing your head off from your shoulders.'
He glanced up at the monstrous being before him, before returning his gaze to the ground, scowling.
'...Very well.'
Letting Phaedra had an immediate effect on his body. He grew taller, more muscled, and his skin tone turned grey. Two large ram horns jutted out of the side of his head, and his eyes shone a brilliant gold. It surprised him painless the change was, unlike his first transformation as a werewolf. He felt himself bow deeper than he intended, and felt a rather large grin cover his face.
Hadrian remained silent for a moment, appraising his new form.
"...I swear, by the Light that I will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer," His words came out sounding solemn and bold, much to his confusion. He was more bitter, than anything. "Thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all those who serve the Destroyer even to my dying breath."
He remained kneeling, waiting for Silas to continue.
'What are you waiting for you stupid mutt?' Phaedra cried out in annoyance. Kneel before your master like a good dog!
Hadrian stepped forward reluctantly, and kneeled, looking down at the floor. The pain in his head receded, and was replaced with laughter.
'Ahahaha! Very good! Very good! Looks like you're able to follow orders after all,' Phaedra said in mock praise. 'Now change and take the oath, unless you want Silas tearing your head off from your shoulders.'
He glanced up at the monstrous being before him, before returning his gaze to the ground, scowling.
'...Very well.'
Letting Phaedra had an immediate effect on his body. He grew taller, more muscled, and his skin tone turned grey. Two large ram horns jutted out of the side of his head, and his eyes shone a brilliant gold. It surprised him painless the change was, unlike his first transformation as a werewolf. He felt himself bow deeper than he intended, and felt a rather large grin cover his face.
Hadrian remained silent for a moment, appraising his new form.
"...I swear, by the Light that I will serve the Knighthood and through all effort defend the worlds from the Destroyer," His words came out sounding solemn and bold, much to his confusion. He was more bitter, than anything. "Thwart evil wherever it shows its face and strike down all those who serve the Destroyer even to my dying breath."
He remained kneeling, waiting for Silas to continue.
"By my right as Illrian Shadow, ruler of the Illrian Knighthood, I consecrate you all as Knights of the Maledictum. May your blades be ever sharp against the forces of Chaos." boomed out Silas, the blackness slithering from him and return him to his normal form. Sheathing the blade and leaning it against the throne he sat and said "Arise, my Knights. I have summoned all of you for a singular purpose, to thwart the coming apocalypse which approaches even now. Signs and portents shall emerge in sequence; they must be thwarted at every turn."
Here Silas took a breath and said "The evil of this world runs deeper than you know. We've been compromised by those who work foul magics and spread their evil taint over our beloved world. Earth is soon to be a battlefield, and a great war will be fought. But we will not let the Destroyer's servants tip the odds in their favor. This Cycle is coming to a close, and the Destroyer is returning to claim Earth and to plunge it into darkness and chaos as it did with what once was Arath. We destroyed Thassaria rather than let it come under the Destroyer's rulership, and should it come to pass the Earth must also be destroyed in a similar fashion. But we will not jump to this conclusion, Earth can yet beat back the onslaught if we tip the odds back in our favor."
Here Silas motioned to Anastasia and said "Would you please explain our correspondence and your beloved Nicolaus's mission?" and here Silas rubbed his temples and his elbows and shoulders. Silas looked older now, weaker...as though his years were slowly creeping into him though no wrinkle ever showed on his face.
Here Silas took a breath and said "The evil of this world runs deeper than you know. We've been compromised by those who work foul magics and spread their evil taint over our beloved world. Earth is soon to be a battlefield, and a great war will be fought. But we will not let the Destroyer's servants tip the odds in their favor. This Cycle is coming to a close, and the Destroyer is returning to claim Earth and to plunge it into darkness and chaos as it did with what once was Arath. We destroyed Thassaria rather than let it come under the Destroyer's rulership, and should it come to pass the Earth must also be destroyed in a similar fashion. But we will not jump to this conclusion, Earth can yet beat back the onslaught if we tip the odds back in our favor."
Here Silas motioned to Anastasia and said "Would you please explain our correspondence and your beloved Nicolaus's mission?" and here Silas rubbed his temples and his elbows and shoulders. Silas looked older now, weaker...as though his years were slowly creeping into him though no wrinkle ever showed on his face.
Sorry, my posting will be more infrequent for at least 36 hours. My work has placed me with an 8 yr old with down syndrome which means less down time for me. Will try to make it count though
Anastasia took a stand in front of them. Trying to sound detached for professionalism sake. "First let me tell you how much a privilege it is for me to be standing here now with you, and even if you dont understand that, someday you will." She gave a smile.
" To that end, I make a plea of you, consider it your first assignment. In Russia, near Verkovansk, there is a gulag. Some named it Drakona Zhivot, or the "Dragons belly". This is a notorious prison, known among other things, for breaking imperiomancers. It is guarded by an army of clones controlled by one man, Lazlo Mercer, an imperiomancer and former Rhyle knights inquisitor. Inside of this prison is a man named Nicholaus Kin. Inside his mind may lie the key to defeating this grave threat which looms over us. Along with a team of Rhyle, STG54, we are going to break him out."
She produced from her handbag the single thing it held. The mask. Its once well polished, gold colored face now faded, making the scars across its steel more visible than ever. It seemed to know something they didnt, something of despair. Those sensitive to it would feel a hum of energy resonating from it. Years upon years of use had turned it into a weapon of its own. She threw it on the table, it gave a loud thud as it did.
"Illrians, this is your calling..."
Sinclair stood up to his full height and thought for a moment.
He was familiar with Nicholaus Kin. Most assassins would be familiar with a man holding a four billion ruble bounty on his head. But his high ranking position and influential nature made him even more noticeable, and the Guild had him study Kin's profile for a possible assassination attempt. They had gotten as far as getting a positive on his location and the Black Nail shipping out before the hit was canceled, though he never realized why the hit was cancelled. He was somewhat amused that the Russians finally caught him though, as annoying as it might possibly be to recover the man intact from the Dragon's Belly of all places.
Lazlo Mercer on the other hand, is an interesting problem. He was familiar with his work, having had contacts within the Red Star that spoke of Mercer sparingly. He would have to look into his contacts again to confirm several things before coming to a conclusion.
Of course, regardless of any subsequent information, it would be a significant problem, one that cannot be handled without significant force and limiting his abilities around his 'allies'. As such, he dropped his illusion of 'meekness and weakness' allowing himself to be seen fully, though he kept his guns hidden just in case.
Oh Mr. Sinclair, you are an amusing one aren't you?
'Hush you.'
The Sinclair coughed lightly, to get Anastasia's attention as he asked his questions.
"Beyond the Target's recovery." The Black Nail began, not hinting to any possible foreknowledge of Kin at the moment. "Are there alternative objectives you would like us to pursue? Nichloaus Kin's recovery is one thing, but must we mind additional factors to his recovery, such as number of hostiles terminated, collateral damage to the Drakona Zhivot or recovery of any other items along with Kin? Considering the Order of the Red Star's hatred for Kin, there is a possibility of our operations ranging from an in and out black ops mission with little to no aggression, or the total destruction of the Zhivot and everyone in it to ensure both Kin's recovery and stall the possibility of the Red Star tracing the assault on the Knighthood and not, say, the Black Rose in Germany."
A sudden thought came to mind.
"I don't suppose you happen to have some hair or blood samples of Lazlo Mercer do you? Or of the clones' progenitor? Either would vastly simplify thi-."
A pulse, like blood pumping through his veins with the strength of a piercing shreak, hit him. It almost staggered him, and he was unsure of where it originated from. Baltreth rushed to the surface, protecting his mind from any a possible attack that never came. He looked down, and saw the steel mask that the girl had thrown earlier. He continued, stammering for a moment.
"Ah...as I said, blood or hair samples of either subjects would simplify the operation immensely. Also, what is that? I seem to have suffered an unexpected psychic reaction from it."
He was familiar with Nicholaus Kin. Most assassins would be familiar with a man holding a four billion ruble bounty on his head. But his high ranking position and influential nature made him even more noticeable, and the Guild had him study Kin's profile for a possible assassination attempt. They had gotten as far as getting a positive on his location and the Black Nail shipping out before the hit was canceled, though he never realized why the hit was cancelled. He was somewhat amused that the Russians finally caught him though, as annoying as it might possibly be to recover the man intact from the Dragon's Belly of all places.
Lazlo Mercer on the other hand, is an interesting problem. He was familiar with his work, having had contacts within the Red Star that spoke of Mercer sparingly. He would have to look into his contacts again to confirm several things before coming to a conclusion.
Of course, regardless of any subsequent information, it would be a significant problem, one that cannot be handled without significant force and limiting his abilities around his 'allies'. As such, he dropped his illusion of 'meekness and weakness' allowing himself to be seen fully, though he kept his guns hidden just in case.
Oh Mr. Sinclair, you are an amusing one aren't you?
'Hush you.'
The Sinclair coughed lightly, to get Anastasia's attention as he asked his questions.
"Beyond the Target's recovery." The Black Nail began, not hinting to any possible foreknowledge of Kin at the moment. "Are there alternative objectives you would like us to pursue? Nichloaus Kin's recovery is one thing, but must we mind additional factors to his recovery, such as number of hostiles terminated, collateral damage to the Drakona Zhivot or recovery of any other items along with Kin? Considering the Order of the Red Star's hatred for Kin, there is a possibility of our operations ranging from an in and out black ops mission with little to no aggression, or the total destruction of the Zhivot and everyone in it to ensure both Kin's recovery and stall the possibility of the Red Star tracing the assault on the Knighthood and not, say, the Black Rose in Germany."
A sudden thought came to mind.
"I don't suppose you happen to have some hair or blood samples of Lazlo Mercer do you? Or of the clones' progenitor? Either would vastly simplify thi-."
A pulse, like blood pumping through his veins with the strength of a piercing shreak, hit him. It almost staggered him, and he was unsure of where it originated from. Baltreth rushed to the surface, protecting his mind from any a possible attack that never came. He looked down, and saw the steel mask that the girl had thrown earlier. He continued, stammering for a moment.
"Ah...as I said, blood or hair samples of either subjects would simplify the operation immensely. Also, what is that? I seem to have suffered an unexpected psychic reaction from it."
"That was in all likelihood, the mask, sending a warning or reacting to the drop in you defensive charade."to Anastasia said. "And yes I could feel it." Kin had taught her well, even if she wasn't an imperiomancer, she had.learned a few trucks of the trade.
"As for Lazlo Mercer, this man is dangerous. He became obsessed with Kins mind. Trying to beat him, he studied him meticulously and even defected in an attempt to steal this very mask. You see, the mask has been used by Kin so much it has undergone an "imprinting " of sorts. It also amplifies the power of the one using it, however at a dangerous cost to anyone who isn't familiar with it. Mercer is also unfortunately familiar with thurmaturgy and has developed, as many powerful imperiomancers do, a defensive.block against it. Make no mistake, this man is Kins equal, and will gladly kill any of you to get deeper into his mind. Steel your minds, Knights, for to fight this man is to court with death and madnes and shouldn't be done idly."
"As for Lazlo Mercer, this man is dangerous. He became obsessed with Kins mind. Trying to beat him, he studied him meticulously and even defected in an attempt to steal this very mask. You see, the mask has been used by Kin so much it has undergone an "imprinting " of sorts. It also amplifies the power of the one using it, however at a dangerous cost to anyone who isn't familiar with it. Mercer is also unfortunately familiar with thurmaturgy and has developed, as many powerful imperiomancers do, a defensive.block against it. Make no mistake, this man is Kins equal, and will gladly kill any of you to get deeper into his mind. Steel your minds, Knights, for to fight this man is to court with death and madnes and shouldn't be done idly."
"Hmm. I see."
You're an interesting one Sinclair. You becoming a Host is both one of the best, and worst, things that has happened to the Knighthood in recent years.
'Is that flattery or truth Lethargic One?
Oh I doubt you'd believe me either way. Now, what exactly do you plan on doing with Mr. Mercer hmm?
'For the moment? Rip out his mind and take his secrets and powers.'
Oh really? I thought he was an ally, being a Thaumtergist and all.
'And so you assume we're allies based on that? Foolishness. The Guild is merely a collection of Cults and Sects that use Hell Magic scattered all across creation. If they were as united as, say, the Guardians, I would reckon that we would shake the earth with our power.
Baltreth was amused.
I would say that my Host is biased
'Perhaps. Nonetheless, I'll take Lady Anastasia's non-answer as permission then'
Oh? And what do you mean by that?
'She didn't answer an affirmative or a negative. Which means, in political terms anyway, that Kin is to be recovered regardless of collateral damage, but doesn't want to be tied to such an extremist method of attack.Then again, I suppose it was too much to ask for hair samples of the enemy. That would be too easy.'
Perhaps. But then again Mr. Sinclair, you're the most morally bankrupt person here, I'm sure. You might just be overthinking these things.
'And considering that you're a centuries old Angel of Lethargy, you strike me as far too morally upright for the job.'
Alas, it is true. It began with my mother you see, such a lovely woman. She tasted like pork you see, though that might be my fault due to not cooking her pro-
'Enough, enough. You've made your point.'
What are you planning?
'Gain schematics on the Gulag, infiltrate the security system, disable the locks and let the prisoners run free and create chaos and death while we extract the vaunted Subject Sigma. Several of us may have to be diverted to stall Mercer or, more realistically, kill him when he sleeps in his quarters from a safe distance and shower the ashes with Hellfire.'
Ah. I meant, about the larger goal. Concerning the Destroyer I mean. Don't think I didn't notice you're little choice of words in the Oath. Loyalty to Silas until his death, not to the Knighthood or their Ideals and beliefs. Stop any evil that you see, which could easily mean you simply not 'seeing' the evil in the literal sense. To serve until your debt is considered full, by who? Certainly not Silas, and most certainly not the Knighthood. You could consider your debt full yourself at any time.
'All true, yes. Your point? I doubt Silas didn't see it, he was listening after all, so he must not consider it a very grave problem, else I've severely overestimated the leader of the Illrian Knights. Besides, I DO intend to carry out my debt for as long as it's useful or bearable for me.'
But what about after then Sinclair? Once you renounce the Knighthood, if ever or when ever that might be, what will you do then?
'Are you upset dear Illrian? You seem somewhat concerned.'
By all rights. If you drag us to glory within the Knighthood, then that's perfectly fine. If you drag us to power and riches outside it as the world burns, that's fine too. But if you end up getting me killed, then I will be very cross with you. Silas and the Destroyer are not to be trifled with, and you WILL have to pick a side eventually.
Sinclair, contrary to the usual strict standards of motor control he usually kept on himself, let slip the slightest hint of a cold smile.
'That, partner Baltreth, is the language of the weak.'
A moment of silence occurred before Baltreth snorted.
Oh dear. My partner seems to be a madman.
Sinclair merely kept silent as he watched the room, making plans for the future and watching his fellow Knights.
You're an interesting one Sinclair. You becoming a Host is both one of the best, and worst, things that has happened to the Knighthood in recent years.
'Is that flattery or truth Lethargic One?
Oh I doubt you'd believe me either way. Now, what exactly do you plan on doing with Mr. Mercer hmm?
'For the moment? Rip out his mind and take his secrets and powers.'
Oh really? I thought he was an ally, being a Thaumtergist and all.
'And so you assume we're allies based on that? Foolishness. The Guild is merely a collection of Cults and Sects that use Hell Magic scattered all across creation. If they were as united as, say, the Guardians, I would reckon that we would shake the earth with our power.
Baltreth was amused.
I would say that my Host is biased
'Perhaps. Nonetheless, I'll take Lady Anastasia's non-answer as permission then'
Oh? And what do you mean by that?
'She didn't answer an affirmative or a negative. Which means, in political terms anyway, that Kin is to be recovered regardless of collateral damage, but doesn't want to be tied to such an extremist method of attack.Then again, I suppose it was too much to ask for hair samples of the enemy. That would be too easy.'
Perhaps. But then again Mr. Sinclair, you're the most morally bankrupt person here, I'm sure. You might just be overthinking these things.
'And considering that you're a centuries old Angel of Lethargy, you strike me as far too morally upright for the job.'
Alas, it is true. It began with my mother you see, such a lovely woman. She tasted like pork you see, though that might be my fault due to not cooking her pro-
'Enough, enough. You've made your point.'
What are you planning?
'Gain schematics on the Gulag, infiltrate the security system, disable the locks and let the prisoners run free and create chaos and death while we extract the vaunted Subject Sigma. Several of us may have to be diverted to stall Mercer or, more realistically, kill him when he sleeps in his quarters from a safe distance and shower the ashes with Hellfire.'
Ah. I meant, about the larger goal. Concerning the Destroyer I mean. Don't think I didn't notice you're little choice of words in the Oath. Loyalty to Silas until his death, not to the Knighthood or their Ideals and beliefs. Stop any evil that you see, which could easily mean you simply not 'seeing' the evil in the literal sense. To serve until your debt is considered full, by who? Certainly not Silas, and most certainly not the Knighthood. You could consider your debt full yourself at any time.
'All true, yes. Your point? I doubt Silas didn't see it, he was listening after all, so he must not consider it a very grave problem, else I've severely overestimated the leader of the Illrian Knights. Besides, I DO intend to carry out my debt for as long as it's useful or bearable for me.'
But what about after then Sinclair? Once you renounce the Knighthood, if ever or when ever that might be, what will you do then?
'Are you upset dear Illrian? You seem somewhat concerned.'
By all rights. If you drag us to glory within the Knighthood, then that's perfectly fine. If you drag us to power and riches outside it as the world burns, that's fine too. But if you end up getting me killed, then I will be very cross with you. Silas and the Destroyer are not to be trifled with, and you WILL have to pick a side eventually.
Sinclair, contrary to the usual strict standards of motor control he usually kept on himself, let slip the slightest hint of a cold smile.
'That, partner Baltreth, is the language of the weak.'
A moment of silence occurred before Baltreth snorted.
Oh dear. My partner seems to be a madman.
Sinclair merely kept silent as he watched the room, making plans for the future and watching his fellow Knights.