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[Steel Samurai]

The winds of the eastern ocean filled the sails, pushing the schooner swiftly towards the shore. Steel stood on the prow, breathing deeply of the salty air with the spray of the ocean foam on his cheek. He was struck with a wave of nostalgia, a memory of a time long past when he was free to sail as he wished across the main, with no soldiers to command or spies root out. No need to hide his face in public. And nothing between himself and his heart's desire save the wind and the wave. Had Steel his early years to do over again, there was little we would change. But maybe, just maybe, he would have spent more time like this.

His keen black eyes looked towards the cliffs around the port. A lone figure stood on tip of the slab of rock that projected furthest from the coast. He closed his eyes, and his senses confirmed what his intuition had already told him. The goddess awaited her soldiers' return. A sudden flow of affection spread through his heart. His reasons for swearing allegiance to Chikara in the first had been purely political. He knew the moment he saw her power that she would take control of the land, and any who opposed her would fall. Steel desired power, Chikara had it to give. The choice was simple. But the more he had served her, the longer he obeyed her wishes, the less the motivation for his actions was duty and logic, and the more it was a personal devotion to the Queen herself. Steel had served Juno with unquestioning, faultless loyalty, never missing a step from the moment the Admiral asked him to become his body guard to the moment Steel chose a new mistress. But it had not been the same. Dark Juno ruled the pirates with a combination of fear and respect, asking and giving nothhing more. His men were treated well, not becaus of any personal feelings toward them, but because it was good for morale, and ensuring his men were happy ensured his position was not challenged in the slightest. But Chikara . . . with Chikara, it was different. The people, for the most part, adored her. Not everyone approved of Pope Toan and the Spirit Temple. And Solomon and the Inquisition was generally hated. But almost to a man the population of Koridai loved their goddess. And it was easy to see why. There were few hungry, in the country. Little violence between citizens. Sickness and the plague were occasionally a problem, true, but that was the case all over the world, the citizens told each other. She might be a goddess, but it wasn't like she was omnipotent or anything. Steel had observed this devotion growing slowly but surely among the citizenry, and knew it to be merely the natural result of a beautiful and wise ruler reigning in a time of relative peace and prosperity. The war about to begin might begin to test that, but Steel felt that if Solomon's propaganda department did their job well enough, any possible discontent with rising food prices and dead soldiers would be blamed on wisp and Calatia, not the goddess. No, the reason for Steel's personal feelings of affection towards the petite figure standing in the cold rain to welcome them home were less easy to define. Perhaps it was the combination of power and beauty in her eyes. Perhaps it was the little thoughtful tokens of her regard she showed her generals and commanders, such as meeting them as they arrived as she did now, alone in the cold and the rain. Or maybe it was merely the way she gave each of them her complete attention when she spoke to them, treating them not as tools, mere sources of information, but as people, as . . . friends. It was not a word Steel used very often, especially in reference to himself, but it would be accurate, he thought, to say he loved the goddess. How far that went, he was not sure. As yet his service to her had been naught but an improvement. Head of two of the most important arms of the Koridai Military, most sought after bachelor in the Empire, (besides Magnus, of course, but Magnus ignored completely any attention in that way unless it took his fancy. Which wasn't very often) power to strike with impunity at nearly anyone in the known world, and the freedom to pursue his own goals whenever he wished, as long as they did not conflict with the good of the Empire. It was more than ever he had expected. Enough? Of course not, Steel's very nature demanded that there be no end for his ambition. He could wait, in silence, in the shadows, for an opportune moment for as long as it took, but there would always be another goal, another, higher level to reach. Another way of ensuring none of those he truly cared for was lost through his own impotence. But one day, Steel could feel it, a sacrifice might be required of him for the power he now possessed. And only time would tell whether he made that sacrifice or not.

Sir Volkrim Desir surveyed the troops in front of him, doing his best to stifle a most un-officer like smile. Despite the just-stopped rain, they looked glorious; sodden banners waving gently in the breeze, black armor glistening as the water droplets slid slowly of the oiled metal. Lord Steel had been gone for nearly a month, and Volkrim, his second in command, had made it through his first real solo command with no problems. Volkrim had been just twelve, a child in Sornaiid when first he heard of the Pirate Admiral Steel, a man whose face was never seen, who could turn invisible merely by snapping his fingers, and had once single handedly defeated over one hundred Alliance soldiers, and had been entranced with the tales. At fourteen he had been drafted into the Alliance Army, but had turned out to be something of a prodigy with a halberb and thus had been recruited by Chikara's Labyrinthine Elite, an unusual occurence indeed. It had been easy to turn him against Khuffie, the tyrant's injustice's in Sornaiid well known to the lad, and Chikara a charismatic leader. It was that recruitment that saved his life, allowing him to hide nonchalantly during the invasion of Van'Duras and then flee in a well-ordered fashion after the Cataclysm. But it had been there, in the bloody streets of Van'Duras, that he had first seen his idol, slaughtering Alliance soldiers with such reckless abandon that Volkrim thought he must be mad. He had never seen Steel's face before, and yet there was no doubt it was he, with the way he seemed to disappear and reappear at will, looked to with such deference by the pirates around him, and accompanied by other heroes from the stories. Jordan, of the Whirlwind spear, a man clad in green armor who had once killed a troublesome spirit, and then gone to hell itself to kill it again. Ken, whose mighty sword was renowned throughout the land, and the winged Ransom Perseus, whose past and origins were as dark and unknown as his deeds alongside Steel were bright and heralded. The only one missing was the half-demon Kitsune, but nothing had been heard of him for long before the war. After the Cataclysm, the next time Volkrim encountered Steel was en route to Koridai. Volkrim and several other Labyrinthine soldiers, having been separated from the main part of their group after the Cataclysm, took to preying upon travellers trying to escape from the Cursed lands. One day they attacked what should have been an easy party, two men and a skinny wench, travelling to the south. Volkrim watched as twenty Labyrinthine soldiers fell in a matter of seconds, and then recognized his hero as one of the men. For a full two minutes he managed to defend against Ransom's attacks with his spear, but eventually fell, a dagger in his side. Recognizing his skill, Steel had mercy on him, saving his life in return for a renewed loyalty to Chikara as the goddess Lazu when they reached her. It was quickly given, of course, and on the way to Koridai Steel trained Volkrim further, increasing his skill with the halberd and other weapons greatly. Steel eventually had Volkrim placed as his second in charge of the Koridai Praetorian, the youngest person to have such responsibility that anyone knew of, as the boy was not yet twenty. Volkrim's admiration for Steel had only increased since that day, and, though he would never admit it even to himself, put him on a level practically equal with the goddess.

The ship was anchored, thick strong ropes tied around the dock's iron cleats. Steel leapt to the wooden platform and walked quickly down towards the center of the city. The sun was shining now, but it looked likely that it would rain again, and the Goddess should not be standing out in the rain. He strode quickly towards the gate leading towards the main street of the town, black scarf whipping around his naked torso. He stepped through the gate, and was greeted by a trumpet blare and two thousand spears with red banners hanging from each, raised in salute. Half of the Koridai Praetorian was here to protect the goddess.

"Hail, Lord Commander Steel, Peer of the Realm of Koridai and Executor of the Will of the Book of Koridai."

It was a delay Steel neither wanted nor expected, but it was a well-planned and executed greeting and to dismiss it would be very bad for morale. He stopped directly in front of Volkrim who, from his barely suppressed smile, was the one who had orchestrated the greeting, saluted in the proscribed method, right fist to ear, and waited as Volkrim handed him the commander's ring. Steel ceremoniously slipped the ring onto the third finger of his left hand, and then Volkrim turned and marched back to his normal position in front of the center right column. Steel faced the armored soldiers, drew the dualist blade from its sheath and thrust it high in the air.

"Hail men of the Praetorian, most elite soldiers on the continent! Your commander has returned, and thanks you for such a rousing welcome!" Steel bellowed.

The soldiers cheered, the noise of their cries and stomps rattling the windows of the nearby houses.

"I shall make an official inspection once we return to the Arbiter's grounds, however, for now I have only a couple orders for you. Legion I," (that was the entire group of soldiers there) "Execute formation S. When formation S is executed, Century X and XI follow me. The rest of you return to camp."

Steel raised his blade again and strode quickly through the ranks. He was at the other end of the bustling port town in less than five minutes, and five minutes after that he stood before the goddess herself. He knelt on one knee, head bowed. Even in a position such as that (only the Quadrate were allowed to kneel in such a way with the goddess, all else must fall prostrate or die) the top of his head was even with her breast. Strange that a woman so small in appearance wielded such power.

"My queen. I have much to inform you of, but, I beseech you, get indoors. I feel it will begin to rain again soon, and I would not have you be in any discomfort."

Back down in the port, the First Praetorian Legion stood at attention, every man's eye staring at the gate to the dock itself, waiting with bated breath. And then . . . a flash of red. There it was. Time to execute formation S. As Solomon stepped through the gate, the Praetorian stepped once, tilted their helmets toward the sky, and then about heeled and turned their backs to him, marching the length of the main street and then dispersing. Two Centuries of a hundred men each rushed up the hill, kneeling just out of earshot of the Goddess and Steel.

The Koridaian diplomatic mission had returned home. The next chapter in the history of Koridai was about to begin.

[JRPomazon]

He walked. Steel's men insulted him. He took another step. If Steel had it his way, they would be spitting at him and his men. Let them, he would rip out their tongues in return. He would enjoy beating and carving respect into the whole lot, Steel included. That pretty face of his would look good with a couple of scars. His men walked behind Solomon with great respect for their commander. They understood the depths of Solomon's madness, his deprived behavior, his lust for murder and what it was they saw was a portrait of unfathomable grandeur that was too great for words. A man that made the world his enemy for the greater good of change. The necessary evil required in the empire, whether Steel, Magus or Pope Toan himself were to recognize it or not.

Their red armor shined brightly in the light of the sun, the representatives of the inquisition bowed in respect to Chikara. Solomon proceeded without his men, who was headed toward the goddess herself. He passed by the scorn of the Praetorian, their mockery like a mosquito on his wrist. Then he saw Steel bowing to the goddess. A rage like none other began to consume his very core, a fire of wrath burning behind his green eyes. How dare he be so close to her. HOW DARE HE. Cut him down. Slice him open. Let his blood cry out to the sky and his body ravaged by beasts. KILL HIM.

He silenced his thoughts almost immediately, such things could wait till later.

"Your eminence, a thousand thanks would not be enough to display my gratitude for you to greet us in such a manner."

Solomon kept his distance from her and Steel, despite his urges to ring the bastard's neck till his hands began to bleed and his personal desire to be by the goddess.

Edited by JRPomazon, 21 January 2010 - 12:20 AM.

[SL the Pyro]

Dark power...

Such incredible dark power...

It was so much that Shadow felt himself being drawn to it. A darkness so vast, so extreme... he had never felt anything remotely like this before, not even from the Dreadlord of two years past. At first he was marching into the capital with Solomon's men, but upon sensing such power, he stopped and turned his head in its direction. Had Shadow been in his right mind at the time, his jaw would've hit the floor at the sight of Steel Samurai bowing down to someone. But he was instead fixated on who he was bowing to...

The answer was blatantly obvious. Such power, and only one person in the empire that someone of such high rank would bow to...

It was the Goddess. Chikara herself.

Despite two years of being in service to her, Shadow had not seen Chikara in person until now. She was... shorter than expected, he could tell, but the distance he was away coupled with the storm clouds gathered in the sky made it difficult for him to see what she really looked like.

He wasn't sure whether to feel rage or fear. In two years since the Cataclysm, he'd never met the one responsible for the destruction of the Lost Woods, his old home... his heart burned for revenge. And yet, the boundless power she possessed inspired a not-insignificant level of terror in even him...

He asked himself a question then: why was she here now, in the middle of an impending storm, away from the safety of her guards? She had an empire to run. There was no viable reason for her to be here... unless... she was waiting for her men to return... NO, that was ridiculous. She was a tyrant, using her power to rule over everyone with an iron fist. She cared nothing about her simple, pawn-like soldiers.

But then, why else would she be here...?

Shadow groaned and held his head, which was starting to ache; this was too much for him to absorb all at once. He didn't even notice that he was now standing alone in the field, watching her... he eventually snapped out of his trance and rushed after the troops to the capital, hoping no one had noticed him spacing out.

Edited by SL the Pyro, 23 January 2010 - 01:28 AM.

[Chikara Nadir]

OOC:

Spoiler

I know what you guys are thinking. "Here's a thread that starts off centered around Chik, and she decides not to post in it."


Well, I can promise that it's been a completely atypical week, with visiting Toan's frat every day from Tuesday through Sunday for Rush week, including casual get-togethers to meet new faces who might join, a couple parties, and formal black suit dinner, then I had work and my birthday on Monday…so here…we…GO!

Evening would approach within a few short hours, and with Koridai's best soldiers safe at shore the cooling ocean began to darken with a thin growth of storm clouds. The wind still stung moist and forbidding against Chikara's cheeks, as though to tell her to turn away from the edge of her territory and return back toward the Arbiter's Grounds. The sun lingered on the horizon, passing over the central desert and sizzling as it hit the glacier lakes atop Calatia's mountain peaks. The waning warmth partnered with the tingling moisture in the air reminded her for a moment of the leaking caverns beneath Kakariko, once upon a time, but…

Thus a smile was already on her lips long before Steel had stepped onto her ledge, one of a select few men whom her crimson hawk eyes had been catching upon since stepping off their half-ambassadorial, half-war ships. "You're so wicked," the petite goddess mused in a sing-song tone, ignoring Steel's request in favor of merely flicking her eyes onto his form for a moment before looking back down at the small but flourishing Imperial port village. "I saw that little trick you did against poor Solomon. It doesn't take a genius to comprehend why you two are at odds, but taunting your allies on the threshold of war is a bit too bold, even for a soldier so esteemed as yourself."

She flashed a crooked and sharp-fanged smile, only flickering for an instant before returning to her more composed and tight-lipped smirk. "I will not deny that it was funny, though!" Chikara stepped forward, snatching the hem of Steel's ambitious regal robes within her gloved left hand as she patted the top of his knelt head with her right. The woman began to part her lips again to concede that they might go indoors, but a rather familiar breed of wrath was bearing down upon her from a short distance away.

"Ah, Solomon!" the goddess shouted out to him, retrieving the motherly grasp she'd given the Praetorian and hiding her hands away beneath the edge of her rather useless royal cape. "Speak of the devil, and all his trickster friends," she indicated his men, standing a good distance behind, "As eager as I am to hear Lord Steel's reports of the successful journey to a foreign nation, I suspect your own tales will be far more thrilling." Even while she had chided her most respected guard for his execution of 'formation S', the woman sounded genuine in her excitement at hearing about what sort of potentially selfish renegade wars Solomon might have decided to start while outside of her jurisdiction.

"Don't look so surprised, either of you," Chikara laughed in a lilting tone, placing her fingertips upon her cheek as though to hide a girlish blush at the idea of these men both glaring at one another..and all on her account! "Every soldier in the empire has his place and purpose, men. Those who die on the battlefield do so that the blessed man behind them might live. Those who march on into glory and personally earn my respect by entering my inner court each do so because they have a holy talent that should not be overlooked. Both pacifist priests and bloodstained assassins alike."

Her eyes searched a distance away, spying a lone soldier who had found himself awestruck at realizing the participants of the cliffside triumvirate. Chikara winked at him, smirking in amusement at what an impression she made made upon men these days, but she wasn't sure whether he saw it with the speed he took to rush away and catch up with his group.

"Now." The goddess clapped her hands together, feeling that it was finally time to get to the important matters that she'd been waiting weeks to hear about. "Will either of you wish to parley separate private audience with myself to tell how the voyage went -- with wildly amusing variations between the two accounts, from the way you two seem to get along in public -"

She stepped to the side, and in an instant had appeared mere feet before Solomon himself, responding to his obvious shock at her being so close to him by daring to give the man an ironic short bow of respect. "Or do you suppose we can all share civilized company and get some work accomplished tonight? I'm sure everyone would love the chance to return to comfortable quarters by dusk, now that your feet are on solid ground."

[Steel Samurai]

For a moment Steel wondered if he had made a miscalculation, executing formation S in front of the Goddess. But her smile a moment later dispelled such fears. Solomon's untimely arrival minutes later was nearly enough to spoil his contentment at being in the presence of his liege. He rose, Chikara having made it clear early on that her inner circle were not expected to remain prostrate the entire time they were in her presence.

"My Queen, for my part I am of course perfectly happy to discuss the particulars of our mission in whatever format you should desire, however there are certain aspects and events I would prefer be discussed in a private audience with her Majesty, if it not be too bold for me to ask." Steel ignored Solomon entirely, keeping his eyes on Chikara's face, trying (though he knew it futile) to judge her mood, her attitude. No one Steel knew could look her in the eye. Most of the ordinary citizens of the realm would quite literally go insane should they attempt to hold her gaze for more than a second or two. Steel had once looked into her eyes for a full ten seconds. It had taken him weeks to recover fully. Juno himself had not had a gaze as powerful, as filled with chaos as hers. Admiral Juno had been a terrifying man, but even his dark eyes had held no terror for the assassin.

Steel snapped his fingers and a contingent of four of the strongest Praetorians rushed forward, a palanquin on their shoulders.

"A palanquin, should you wish it, my queen."

[Selena]

The crimson drapes of the palanquin were pushed aside for the Goddess, but it seemed as if her chair within was already occupied. A pair of legs covered in black leather were crossed in a ladylike manner while black and silver gauntlets rested on her top knee. To any young person, the look of the woman's military jacket would have indicated that she was an elite member of Koridai - the official colors were the same, after all. The elders would have known better. Chikara would have known better. The red designs that covered the dark gray fabric of the garment were exclusive to the Labyrinth of Doom. The woman's pale skin only accentuated that fact. Wavy brown hair fell around her face and descended most of the way down her back. Dark eyes stared at Chikara from within the divine palanquin, judgmental and amused. A sharp canine tooth poked out from beneath a familiar smirk.

"The mighty queen cannot walk on her own. I wonder what the others will think of this."

Selena. But not Selena. A younger Selena - one that could not exist even if Chikara's blade had missed its mark on the mountain that day. Sitting in the palanquin was not the leader of Calatia, but Chikara's sixteen year old apprentice, still learning the ways of the dark arts and rising through the ranks of the underground. She was fresh faced with a wild look in her eyes that had not been present for a good many years unless combat was directly involved. Shorter than she had been the last time they fought, though still much taller than the Goddess herself. One thing was certain: Selena was never submissive to her dear mentor, regardless of age or affiliation. Selena could not resist an insult despite the presence of earth-shattering power.

A blink.

Selena wasn't there anymore. Just her voice, echoing in Chik's ears.

"This is how you spend your days? Sitting here at home while others spill the blood of your enemies? They've turned you into a good little housewife. You get to tend to the homeland while the real warriors go off and do the fighting. That's not the queen I knew. The queen I knew would be at the front of her army, waving her sword and letting out battle cries. Your life has no challenge. How could it? You let the voices in your head kill me. I was all you had left. The only enemy worth killing. And Lazu did it for you." A chuckle. "Now you are alone."

She reappeared on Chik's right side - where any decent second-in-command should be. She crossed her arms and leaned in, the men oblivious to her existence, simply waiting for Chikara to say something or enter the palanquin. They should have been drawing weapons and charging, shouldn't they? Yet they remained motionless as the leader of Calatia made herself at home.

"I'm sure the worshiping flatters you, but it must get tiresome. Do you have anyone left to treat you like an equal? No, you're just a priceless object that cannot be handled or tampered with. Not even a real woman. Just a tool. No one here knows you at all. They just know your power. Who else besides me knows that the mighty Goddess was once picked up and put on a boat heading across the Lalvican after a night of drinking in our former home? Or that she puked all over the captain after finally waking up? Certainly none of these fanboys. Maybe even you've forgotten. After all, it's difficult to stay focused if all you have to do is prance about the palace."

Selena looked down at Chikara's hip.

A pause.

"Is... is that my knife? Did you kill me with my own knife? You bitch."

Another pause.

"I think that calls for a haunting. You know what's fun? Even Lazu can't kill what's already dead."

[Chikara Nadir]

Tricks. Tricks of the mind, of the eyes, of the boiling brainpan and simmering psyche.

Chikara tensed up, her shoulders growing rigid, eyes widening into scarlet saucers, the fine hairs on her pale arms standing on end. The only thing she couldn't do with her muscles was to properly force her hand toward her swore in defense. "Lazu," she whispered to herself, trying not to allow the words to grow loud enough for her companions to hear. "All the works of Lazu, trying to make me go insane --" more insane that she sometimes felt was constant, anyway, "so that you can take over my body completely and shuffle the real queen under some corner rug."

"I'M NOT FALLING FOR IT." The goddess caught her breath, glancing around in realization that she had shrieked out loud. The soldiers carrying the palanquin, although trying their best to avoid eye contact in the first place, had backed up a few inches almost in unison. Their faces were stark in fear of the wrath of their lady savior.

She glanced to the side, staring at her young apprentice almost fearfully but not yet willing to address her. "Take the palanquin back, do not stop to allow another Koridain official to ride it. Your journeys have been long; it is now time to rest -- not to carry anything upon your shoulders but the weight of your own triumphant endeavors."

"And don't…don't listen to anything else I say, don't take it as fact or command," she muttered to them, wagging a wavering finger before their faces. "There is a secret demon about, trying to take command of our souls. It speaks to me because it knows of my power, and because I am too strong for it to hide from. If you hear voices, dismiss them straightaway. If you hear me speak nonsense, disregard it as well."

The woman could feel Selena's eyes bearing down on her, young warm breath close to her cheeks, stronger than the wind itself. She was making up lies as quickly as she could to cover for herself, waiting for her former protege to laugh in her face and even to inform the others of her sins. Of her fraudulence as a saint, even.

The woman spun around a bit too quickly, unsteadily glancing back and forth between Steel and Solomon as though afraid they were about to turn into serpents. "You two as well. Go back, I will meet up with you shortly. I need no accompaniment, only the peace to purge the present evils of my own accord. This is not a request, it is an order. Please." The last word was unnecessary, and yet some weak edge of her heart felt that she must beg with every last fibre of her being to be left alone.

Then the cliffside was emptied of her immense presence. Not a shoeprint of a hair to indicate she was there. Without a word, the goddess Chikara had disappeared.

[Selena]

A heartbeat later, 'they' were situated in Chikara's bedchamber, isolated from the rest of her many subjects. Didn't need anyone hearing the Goddess talk nonsense to herself, after all. What she needed for a breakdown was privacy and a comfortable setting. After dropping back into existence, Selena fell onto a carved oak chair with red velvet padding with a joyous laugh while Chikara was left to stand and twitch in between the chair and the bed. There was a mirror up against the wall next to an ornate wardrobe. Chikara showed up. The laughing Selena did not. It took her a moment to calm back down, tears having formed in her eyes. Leaning back against the right arm of the chair and crossing her legs over the left one, Selena brushed her tears away.

"Oh, ruin my fun. I wanted you to talk to yourself in front of the boys," she said. Selena relaxed a little and took a look around. "You've teleported us to your bedroom? That's not suspect at all. You could have picked the ruins of Olimandias. One of the Labyrinth's broken tunnels. The tallest peak of the Tor-Denma mountains. The emptied Hall of Heroes. No. You selected your bedroom. That says something very important about the inner working of your mind. Among other parts of your anatomy."

Selena watched her for a minute before hopping back onto her feet. The young woman put her hands on her hips and walked about the room, inspecting various items that Chik had collected over the years. When she'd grown bored - which only took a few seconds - she turned her head back to Chik.

"I'm a secret demon, am I? That may be the nicest compliment you've ever given me, especially when coupled with that utter look of fear you're perfecting over there. But you know, I couldn't come here of my own free will. You had to invite me. I'm only here because of your mental instability and loneliness. You know what that means?"

She smiled.

"You miss me. Terribly."

[Steel Samurai]

When one served under the Goddess of Chaos, one quickly learned that the mood swings and seeming irrationality of normal females were as nothing before Chikara's unpredictability. Without a word to Solomon or the Templars, Steel began to walk back towards the port town, motioning the two hundred Praetorian in attendance to follow him. The Empress was more than capable of taking care of herself. Steel often, in fact, wondered why the Praetorian was even in existance when the Temple guards under Toan's command could easily stop any idle whelps trying to get a glimpse of the goddess by sneaking into the compound. The Crusader elite regiment of the Praetorian were arguably the most dangerous and well trained soldiers in the known world (a title fiercely contested by the Templars of Solomon, and the Berserkers and Valkyries of Calatia, of course) but when one is contending with a Goddess the amount of protection they could provide was . . . negligible, at best. To Steel's intensely practical and logical mind the ways and actions of the Goddess were often quite mysterious. Obeyed to the letter, and never questioned, but often mysterious and unknown. Time itself would tell if there was indeed some underlying purpose for the Praetorian, and in truth much of the day to day running of the corps was left to Sir Volkrim, Steel preferring to spend his time on the Groping Shadowy Hands of Chikara, the Intelligence and Assassination Bureau of Koridai.

Steel tread lightly down the steep hill, the Praetorian matching his every step. Within minutes he was back at his quarters. The report, it seemed, would have to wait awhile longer.

[Goose]

The future of the Empire sat in a single mans hands.

Dung.

His hand was full of it. This particular pile of dung came from a cow. He would use it in a test, to see if he could use it to create energy, a type of energy that would fule wagons, so that horses could have a break once a while and not have to worry about walking and pushing carts all the time. He tried burning it, and all that did was made a horrible smell. He'd tried drying it out and then burning it, and that just created a more dusty version of the smell that got into your eyes and made you wish you had no lungs. This time he would test it with rocks, and by mushing it together with rocks and wood, surely something useful would happen.

This man was Tai'lor. A man of medicine and science. He lived in the palace, where the Goddess lived. His apartments and hers were at the opposite ends, because he wouldn't live long if the smells and explosions that came from where he spent his time ended up in the nose of the goddess, she would surely have his head on some sort of pike that her guards would design in an entertaining formation. He assumed she kept him around, in case he discovered something better than fungicillan, his life saving fungus that had made him famous. He was in high demand either way, a man that could use science to save lives was always going to be in demand.

He took the pile of dung that was in his hand and deposited it into a jar. He would worry about that particular experiment later. He had something bigger that required his attention, a young woman had walked into his laboratory. This wasn't an everyday occurrence, people would walk in, but more often than not, they had some sort of strange illness that they wanted him to look at. No, this girl looked almost normal.

"Dr"

People had come to calling him that. He never asked for the title, but after saving a few lives, it had been like he was cheating death, doctoring the circle of life, and although it was intended as an insult, he liked to think that it was nice that people gave him a title.

"Dr, I need help. Its my mother. She's started babbling strange things and her head keeps turning around in circles. I sent for a priest and a monk, but when they arrived, she proceeded to snap their necks."

Tai'lor was alarmed. This was most incredibly not normal. This was something that most had to be studied.

"Yes.. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

She looked apologetic.

"My name is Sarah."

Tai'lor smiled.

"Well then Sarah, lets go say hi to your mother." And with that, he walked out the door of his apartments with the young lady and a coat, a notepad, and a small stone. He would use the stone to examine the older lady. And so off they went out into the night air.

[JRPomazon]

Steel and the Goddess were gone now, although the condition of each of them left Solomon less than relaxed. It seemed that things were growing a little more hectic than usual. Oh well, it comes with the job. Solomon proceeded to head towards his men and one of the Vildmarkian Horseless carriages. He wanted to get home and get back to ratting out heretics, it always calmed his nerves. The scar on his neck began to throb painfully, a gust of wind howled past him as it tossed his gray hair lightly off his face. The memories of a particular strain of wrath reawakened in his mind. He needed to kill something. Badly.

Then he remembered something less annoying, the scholars he had asked to study the remains of the gray cloaked heretic from the cursed lands. They should have compiled their research by now and if they hadn't then at least Solomon would get to take care of the first of his immediate needs.

[SL the Pyro]

In a stark few seconds, Shadow's beliefs and ambitions that he had firmly held for two years had been nearly shattered, and just from merely looking at what he was up against. He was not happy. In fact, he was furious. The last time he was this angry was... was during the cataclysm two years ago, ironically. And it again reminded him why he served under the Goddess in the first place; for the sole purpose of getting close to her, to avenge his dorm and to ensure the safety of a great many lives by ending her. But seeing her then, at Koridai's shores, made him think -- if only for a fraction of a second -- that she really cared about her men. Something Shadow was sure could only be described as totally absurd. But why else would she be there, though!?

Damnit, this train of thought just wouldn't stop. Shadow had rushed back to his home and to his office in record time, as if running from the memory. It didn't work; he was near breaking point. He unlocked the door to his office and prayed that something, anything would grab his attention away from this...

His body temperature spiked so suddenly, he thought he was having a heart attack.

The time has come...
Go to where the sun meets the sky...

Shadow hit the floor with a thud; that was not what he had in mind. This was the second time he heard that voice... he was sure he must be going mad. He willed himself to get up and lumbered over to his desk, where an unfinished bottle of water from before he left for Komitaa sat; he quickly gulped down whatever was left. While not totally satisfying, it was better than nothing. Damn, that hot flash -- it seemed to be a fitting name -- was worse than the last... if had taken the time to notice, he would've seen that the sheer heat on his hands had scorched his wooden floor.

By Chik, was he getting pulled down into Hell or something? Shadow's life was spiraling out of control... of that he was sure, when he saw that his salvation was his met peeve of this General occupation: the stack of paperwork on his desk. This would get his mind off of Chikara, off of those hot flashes... even if only for a little while.

Edited by SL the Pyro, 29 January 2010 - 12:54 AM.

[JRPomazon]

Solomon dismissed his men and went into his chambers, anxious to hear the news of the findings that waited for him. There, on his desk was the remains of the fallen warrior in the cursed lands and a report hanging from the wall. The cover page looked like a written calender, just as instructed by Solomon himself. He sat down a began reading their findings, looking over the words with great care. Not a single sentence to be overlooked. After reading for what could have been minutes or even hours, he finally came to the end of what was a boring report.

"Another relic of the past attempting to obscure the future."

The markings were replications of enchantments dating back to the time of the Chamber of Sages, one of Verden's most prominent forces hundreds of years ago. The cloaked heretics were using these magics as a means to combat Koridai. Solomon sat to himself in his chambers, deliberating on what he would do next. If he killed off these bastards first, his nemesis would follow soon after.

Edited by JRPomazon, 29 January 2010 - 01:42 AM.

[Goose]

Her head was spinning around on her shoulders. There was vomit coming out of there somewhere, Tai'lor couldn't be certain where from though because her head was spinning too fast. He looked for something in his bag. This old lady shouldn't have to suffer through this.. this .. horror. Some being had clearly possessed her, and now it was time for the beast to leave.

After searching through his bag he found what he was looking for. A vile of dust, from an old dried up well that he had discovered on his journeys. He threw it over the lady/creature thing. It/she didn't know how to handle it, or what it was, but it stopped moving for a second, and started to convulse a little, like it had to get something out of its body. It was trying to..

"CHUUUU!" sneeze, and with the sneeze came the spirit creature out of the poor ladies body and up into the night sky to haunt another poor soul, hopefully far away from here. The lady looked confused, clearly she had not known what was going on the whole time. Sarah, the daughter of the lady, went and hugged her mother and looked at Tai'lor, and that was thanks enough for him. With that he took his leave.

As he walked out into the night air he thought to himself, Sometimes, all it takes is a good sneeze to blow the blues away.

[DarkJuno]

Swords clash as their users put all their might into their strikes, as sparks fly into the air, mixing with the sand that occasionally flows through the breezes in the desert climate, kicked up by the running and scuffling of soldiers, workers, and others. The armed forces of the Holy Empire, the mighty sword of Her Great Holiness was one to be feared, and for good reason. Certainly, these men - and women - were a mix of people, both already experienced fighters and complete novices, but all shared the same single goal; serve the Great Goddess Chikara and to bring order upon the hedonistic savages in the world with Her Light and Teachings. To be more precise, they were the ones to handle the more....difficult conversions. Two such members of the great Koridai war machine are among the members sparring, keeping their wits and skills up for their duty to the Holy Empire, casually keeping a conversation as their blades met with a fury that one would usually reserve for their enemies, not their comrades, only stopping short of grievously injuring the other.

Mostly.

The two - a blonde haired man and a raven haired woman, both easily in their late teens - both dressed in the simple but sufficiently armored uniforms of trainees strike upon one another as fully trained members of other, lesser militaries of the world might in true battles, both sporting bruises benath the fabric of their clothing from the tough training regiment imposed upon all members of the Koridian army. All the same, even when done through the gritted, battle frenzied teeth or in the violent, agressive tones loudly resonating with the clash of their swords and shields, the topic of conversation between them is rather.....mundane.

"I'm - just - SAYING!" The woman states as she brings her single handed blade down upon her apparent friend's large shield, sending a shuttering wave through his arm as the blade comes down over and over again, "For something refered to as -grunt- uniforms, there sure are a lot of variations around here!" Pausing after one particularly hardy blow, she soon regrets it as her male counterpart lashes back with his own heavy, short blade, barely hsving the time to raise her own shield to block the short stab.

"It's not that big of a deal!" he replies, as he returns to a comabt stance, as she re-orients herself back into a ready position, "I mean, we all look the same in the end - HAAA!" The young man darts forward, thrusting again upon the woman's shield wtih an audible crack. She responds, as she judges his forward momentum properly and dodges aside and gives him a kick to his hip.

"Yeah, sure, all of us cadets and the various divsions of the military look the same, but notice how all of our "aces" seem to pretty much break the damn dress code?" As the man stumbles from her quick kick, she follows up with a swing of her quick, darting blade, though much to her dismay he deflects it with his own blade, and with one quick, smooth motion, spins around her in a quarter circle and brings his short sword forward, finally cracking her shield apart.

"What do you mean?" Closing in for a killing blow, he raises his sword for another strike, but the woman, as speedy as his earlier move, tosses her useless shield away and in one quick movement pulls out a small dagger from her wrist, and tangles the incoming sword thrust between both ehr short blade and proper sword, and takes the opportunity to knock the man off his feet while wrenching the heavy sowrd out of his grasp with her two blades.

"Well, sure, everyone has the Empire's crest, but some of these uniforms look like they belong to another army entirely! Heck, some don't even look like uniforms!" With that, the young woman leaps forward upon her fallen friend and with an animalistic yell stabs her sword upon his throat, ending their covnersation with, "I win." With a smile, the young man replies,

"Have you now?" The woman raises an eyebrow as a breeze blows through the training field, and curiously looks down upon her chest, where the man had unsheathed his own dagger and plunged it straight into her heart.

Or rather, that's what would ahve happend, if not for both combatants having enough control to just barely miss penetrating one another by mere micrometers, as blood trickles from both of their respective, negligent wounds. With an annoyed sigh, the woman stands and hold her hand out to her comrade, as he stands with her aide.

"Really though, have you seen the General Magnus' vaious uniforms? It's like he's exempt form the military dress protocol." A third voice gruffly interrupts the two friends, as a taller man in a similar, if higher ranked uniform walks up tot hem, holding a clipboard,

"All things considered, he may well be - especially if Her Holiness wishes it." The two suddenly stand at attention and get on their knees, bowing to their Instructor.

"Forgive us, the woman starts, "Our idle conversation should not involve the General."

"We mean no dishonor or disrespect," the man adds. THeir Instructor shakes his head, not all that oncerned with their conversation and instead gets to the point.

"It matters little. So, how did it go?"

"Well.....we killed each other. Again." The Intructor nods and he notes this on his clipboard, "Don't sound so disappointed, that's good. Neither of you hesitate, even in a spar between allies. Just one of the qualities needed to be a member of Her Holiness' Sword - keep this up, and you may well be on your way into acceptance into the General Magnus' Elite Vanguard."

"Yes sir."

"We're honored you would even entertain such thoughts."

Such was the typical training regime of those wishing to join the Koridai military. All members fight and attack with no fear of death whatsoever, all for the glory and light of the goddess Chikara. The Vanguard, however, was something else. While the regular Koridai military was trained to fight to the death - rumors swirl about of them fighting beyond that - the General Magnus' Elite Vanguard team was in a league of its own. The training is a closely guarded secret, and none of its members even remotely entertain the idea of speaking of it, but the relatively small force had the strength and ability to utterly annihilate armies ten, twenty, one hundred times its size, due to the reportedly hellish....well, hell they go through, daily, to keep up their skills. All thanks to the Supreme General Magnus of Koridai's military, one who currently stands, watching over this very field of trainees.

Drake Amirale Uni, a large, incredibly imposing, strong man of stature and spirit, sternly keeps watch over the latest batch of cadets. The training field of dust and desert gradually turns into one of green, grassy fields, leading to the tiled pathways of a manicured garden surrounding the trainee's main building. From one of the garden's outdoor balconies the General stands, leaning on the marble railing and suveying the hopeful recruits before him. Drake was probably at least part of the reason for the young battling duo's earlier covnersation on the opposiute end of the field, as none of his uniforms seem to mesh with those of the rest of the army, or even his own Vanguard. Certainly, it had the symbol of the Holy Empire adorned on it, but the design of the actual clothing itself was nothing like that of these desert defenders. Currently, he's covered in a much more formal then usual uniform, his double breated jacket buttoned over hsi strong, impressive build in a dark blue hue, the shoulders adorned with lanyards and various other ornaments of ceremony, with a deep scarlet red half capelet draped over his right shoulder and hanging over his right arm, the Empire's coat adorning it. From what people can assume, his uniform styles all are derived from wherever it was he was from prior to Her Holiness' arrival to this land.

Drake, ater all, was neither part of the group that settled in this paradise, nor was he a native of it, despite having been here already by the time said settlers ahd arrived. The untamed lands that would eventually become Koridai were a hedonistic, savage land filled with equally distasteful peoples who did not deserve the sheer beauty and fruitfulness of this land, and as such had to be swept away. Drake for one reason or another was already long feared by the native savages, only occasionally being annoyed by the upstart young warriors beleiivng they could slay this boogeyman that lived in the untamed lands. They were always wrong, of course, as most ended up returning to their respective tribes and laughable facsimiles of civilization in various small parts by a very irritated Drake, who came to repay these unclean miscreants in full. Naturally, one such warrior, world weary or not, was extremely useful to the Holy Empire, though he was initially rather apathetic about these newcomers to these lands. Still, after some sort of agreement, some say with Her Holiness Herself meeting him personally, Drake seemed to halfway willingly join the Empire. Still, to say that there was displeasure when an outsider was made Supreme General Magnus, the highest rank possible in the Koridian Armed Forces, would be an understatement, though most grudgingly let it go given his extreme talents in combat and frighteningly tactical and strategic mind.

And thus here we are, Drake being an incredibly unhappy, seemingly constantly irritated leader who nontheless seemed to legitimately care about bring Order to an untamed, dirty world that needed it, though some would note that he was....less then reverant to Her Holiness, despite never being outright sacriligeous towards the tiny goddess. Regardless of what one might think of his training ideals, one cannot ignore the results - sure, those who failed to make the the cut, to either the regular military or the Vanguard, became broken feeble shells that were useless to anyone, but those who did were troops that fought viciously, yet somehwat elegantly, never wasting a movement and doing so with such gusto and fearlessness that it was somewhat frightening. The General led by example, as he dove headlong into battles even with his complex strategies, never giving a thought to injury or self sacrifice. Indeed, loyalty was not to be questioned when it came to Drake.

Even so, his piercing eyes show discontent with his position, as he rubs his bearded chin in thought. With a sigh, he grunts and turns, walking along the path leading away from the training quarters. The "great goddess" had summoned him, after all, and he had dilly dallyed long enough to be just late enough to make it obvious he was in no rush to bow to her whims. At this point, the battle couple from earlier, now on the edge of the field taking a rest, had noticed that their General had been observing their group's training, and had begun to chat once more.

"Say.....I don't know if I should be saying this, but....have you ever noticed how the General Magnus seems to sometimes.....I don't know..."

"Talk to someone who's not there? Aye, I have noticed this too....."

"Certainly, it's nothing I shall question, but...."

"Mmhmm..."


******


How long do you really intend to keep this charade up, my dear? With a grunt, Drake replies as he makes his way to his summoning, ignoring the figure, just barely visible from the corner of his eye, keeping in step with him along the impressively manicured shurbbery and expertly carved statues in the garden.

"As long as I have to. How long do you intend to bring this up everyday of our lives?" The feminine figure chuckles to "herself," as "she" wraps her smooth, silky arms along the man's physique.

"For as long as it aggravates you so."

"Then we shall see. You already know my answer."

"Right, this dinghy little goddess intrigues you with her seemingly legitimate care for these miserable rodents she has brainwashed into beleiving her, and it may well be as good a cover as any as you rethin your plans. Still, surely you miss your usual way of doing things?"

"Because that did us a world of good prior to this, hn? Besides, the mere fact that my path of actions annoys you so almost makes being stuck with you for an eternity worth it."

"Hrmph. Just remember - even though I am always obligated to help you, it does not mean it will be....pleasant."

"Indeed." With that, Drake continues on his way, to see exactly what Her little miss Holiness wanted now.

[JRPomazon]

Solomon left his quarters and headed over to the inquisition offices. He needed table room that was not taken up by a dead man's affects. He also needed a map. He opened the doors to the main offices of the Inquisition. It was convenient to live in this coliseum like palace, the goddess' chambers were close by (but heavily guarded), his personal chambers only a few floors below and his place of work a short walk away. As he entered the room, he noticed that the large redwood table that was filled save for the seat at the head. All the Inquisitional Lords or Arch-Inquisitors were present, including Lord Marcoh.

"Might I ask why there has been a meeting called without me Lords?" Solomon asked.

"Lord Solomon! You've returned! Bless the goddess for your-"

"Answer my question, this is an order as your superior."

An awkward silence fell upon the room, the arch-inquisitors not sure what to say next.

"We did not call you because we had no idea you have arrived back at the arbiter's grounds m'lord." Spoke up Marcoh, who did not appear to be as frightened as the others. What the hell are you up to you fat piece of shit?

"None of my templars arrived here to tell you that I had returned? I find that hard to believe seeing as we all know what I do to a man who doesn't follow my orders. What are you really up to here?"

Solomon was seeing smoke and of course where there is smoke, there was fire.

"Very well Lord Solomon, I will tell you what we have been discussing." Marcoh replied, everyone else in the room looking paler by the minute.

"We, the Arch-Inquisitors, no longer believe you are able to fulfill your duties to the empire."

"ON WHAT GROUNDS DO YOU PLANT THIS SEED OF TREASON!?" He shouted, causing some of the arch-inquisitors the shudder. Solomon was not taking this well.

"For your constant abuse of resources, your various absences on personal trips among other behavioral issues. We all know that you are perusing a cold case Lord Solomon, following after a ghost you cannot capture. This "Jordan of the Whirlwind Spear" is not an issue that the inquisition should dirty our hands over and the truth of the matter is that this man might very well be dead."

"THAT CLAIM IS FALSE! HE IS DIRECTLY INVOLVED WITH A HERETIC GROUP PLOTTING AGAINST THE EMPIRE AS WE SPEAK!" Solomon replied, his wrath rekindling.

"You are OBSESSED Lord Solomon and you can no longer see the light of reason! And because of this we can no longer idly stand by and let you abuse the bounty of the goddess over your petty wants!" Marcoh said, losing his cool as he confronted his superior. Solomon was at a brief loss of words, he wanted to kill Marcoh terribly right now.

[Chikara Nadir]

"I didn't do it!" the sacred empress of Koridai shrieked a wavering cry, trying so hard to sound like she meant it that instead it sounded fearful of some alternative truth being discovered. "Lazu killed you, not me! Lazu, ALWAYS Lazu."

The woman stumbled across the rich carpets of her bedchambers, grabbing for her neck as though suffocating, then with a couple of whispers of leather laces being undone and pops of buckles and buttons, she had loosed the shoulder portions to her white and gold filigreed armor, tearing them off her like hard metal petals to a flower in the wind. They were tossed in an instant across the room, through the illusion of her lost daughter to land in the soot at the base of her fireplace. "HE destroyed Olimandias," she threw the hipguards mithril skirts underneath a lacquered end table with a fine assortment of liquors from the old country, "he destroyed the Labyrinth…" her breastplate was slowly set down atop an overstuffed chair, facing away from a hand painted map of the Koridai territories. "I could have started fresh, could have my perfect nation here with no threats, no fear of death, if not for…"

A good deal of her aggressive energy spent, Chikara sat down on the edge her bed, dropping her belts, gloves, and swords to the floor around her. "I loved my people, the Labyrinth…all of it. I was willing to let it all go, the maddening beautiful bloodlust, but then-"

Her scarlet eyes snapped up to glare with awakened bitterness at the haunting illusion. "You think I've lost my touch, I imagine. Think I've lost my mind." She gave a heavy snort of disdain, sliding her right hand back down to the floor to scoop up a tiny pile of silver, like a few ounces of water retrieved from a stream. "Well, it's your own fault. The great master of the Labyrinth wouldn't have come to me if you had just left well enough alone. But no, you couldn't be satisfied with just usurping me and my legacy."

She had picked up the dagger without its sheath, and made a fist around the business end of the thing with little regard for the sting it gave to the soft flesh on the palm of her hand. "You had to go and kill me. Certainly bit you in the ass, did it not?" Droplets of blood had began to pool down the lines of her fingers, tapering down to a single line of red that pooled on the floor. "We both lost everything, and THEN you had to keep going -- make an entire nation anew to fight against what little I had left."

The former Labyrinth queen took the dagger into her left hand, finally thinking to hold it by the hilt as though it were a new concept. "You had it coming," she muttered calmly, almost in a bitterly accusing tone. Her blood-drenched hand rose up to be cupped at her mouth, snaking ripples of red sipped up into her already ruby lips. She sucked on her own fingertip for a few seconds, delighting in the taste, and finally made her hand into a fist again. "You deserved to die. Our kind aren't meant to live long anyway. We're meant to die at the front of battle, and we certainly have no purpose outside of it. Not in elaborate palaces filled to the brim with rare antiquities and plush pillows. Luckily for me, I already died and was reborn."

She shrugged, flattening out the palm of her right hand again for Selena to see. No blood remained, no cut or mark of a scar. "I can do things however I want to this time. I can destroy or save the world, should I so choose. And even you cannot stop me."

[Ransom]

A dark shape materialized into Steel's quarters like a shadow, emerging from some secret passage who knows where. The black figure stood behind the door, practically invisible, and waited.

After a rough hour, the ears behind touched on a distant sound. Steps in the corridor. That delicate stride could only be one man. And 5 others?

Lord Steel and his honour guard.

Noiselessly, a knife was drawn from under a black cloak.

The party stopped at the door, and as usual, the honour guard waited outside. There was a moment of nothing. Some instructions given, and then all was well.


The door opened and Lord Steel commander of the Praetorian strode in, his back to the dark figure lunging at his neck.

Edited by RNSM, 02 February 2010 - 10:07 AM.

[Steel Samurai]

Fluidly, effortlessly, Steel bent at the waist, the razor sharp dagger slicing a hair from his head. He reached out and grabbed the arm clutching the dagger with his right hand, stepping backwards while jerking the arm forward, and twisting it around, the blade suddenly pointed at the vertebrae of the neck of his assailant.

"Not bad. I didn't sense you until I stepped through the door."

Steel gave a little twist and the knife clattered the floor.

"But . . ."

The darkly clad figure suddenly found himself face down on the floor, arms completely immobilized.

"You've still got twenty years of training ahead of you before you can sneak up on me."

Steel released the figure and stepped over to the window, the moonlight streaming in through the glass illuminating the room. He poured himself a glass of scotch and stood, looking out over the Arbiter's Grounds.

"Report."

Edited by Steel Samurai, 02 February 2010 - 10:21 AM.

[Ransom]

"In twenty years you'll have died of old age." The figure, (now clearly identifiable as male), casually picked himself up.

"I won't need that training."

He took a seat on one of the furnished easy chairs orbiting around a low table, and leaned back. The table was covered in papers and maps and books. Lord Steel always had been an academic.

"My report, will only enhance what the men i sent ahead of me have already told you my lord. But the facts are simple."

He poured himself a glass of Scotch.

"Calatia succeeded in securing an alliance with Virrat before we even began negotiations. They had the psychological upper hand from the very start. But..."

He paused, his eyes showing anger.

"I really must stress that the whole debacle was in fact our fault. And it begs the question, who sent these incompetent men? They broke the instruction of a peaceful negotiation and ignored the orders of their ambassadorial betters. Who i must add were all slaughtered in the conflict. Me and all my Talons couldn't have covered that bullshit up!"

He leaned back again, completely relaxed once more.

"I won't blame the Quadrate directly as I value my tongue... But really... how does this fall through the system? The Empire does not make mistakes."

[Steel Samurai]

Steel laughed. "Twenty Years? You forget the power of the Goddess herself flows through my veins. I have another hundred years with which to serve her yet."

He listened as the report was given. Gall. That son of a bitch.

"I gave strict orders that that man was not to leave the Arbiter's Ground until such a time as his misconduct could be reviewed. Have one of your men investigate his family immediately. If there is evidence of Calatian sympathies, have it turned over to the Inquisition. If not, do not breathe a word. The man's daughters and wife do not deserve to pay for his inanity."

Something suddenly came to his mind. He bent down and scribbled a few lines on a sheet of paper. It was the song that he had heard in the slums of Vildmark's Capital.

"Take these to a scholar and have them examined. As soon as you get some kind've lead, return to me immediately."

Steel sat heavily in his chair, and drained his glass of Scotch.

"Something is in the air, my Claw. I fear great changes are coming. And I am not confident we can survive it."

[Selena]

Selena disappeared from the chair when Chikara's rapidly discarded armor flew through her body. She reappeared a few feet away, no longer in the form of a young apprentice, but as a newly independent warlord and the official heir to the Labyrinth, her red and black garments now more complex to illustrate the promotion. Still too young to be the real Selena. She couldn't have been older than she was at the time of the Chamber and Desert wars. Chikara's equal - no longer a trainee and not yet a usurper. The only thing that had not changed was her smug expression. The Goddess's breakdown did nothing to change Selena's sense of superiority. Healing a self-inflicted knife would might as well have been a normal occurrence as far as she was concerned.

She began to walk forward, slowly closing the distance between herself and the Goddess.

"No, Chik, this isn't my fault. You knew my strike was coming. You had time to deflect it or turn it back on me. We could have continued our fight, and you could have escaped into the chaotic streets of Khuffie's city. You're the one that decided to end your own life. You were tired. You gave up. Neither of us could have predicted what happened next, but do not lie to yourself. You're the one responsible for your passing."

Another step. Closer still.

"Yours was a fate worse than death. I would have never condemned you to it. You say that you have the power to do what you want, but you don't. You didn't kill me; Lazu did. You said it yourself. Chikara has ceased to exist as an independent entity. You are just one voice amongst the many, and your will isn't strong enough to overcome the entire collection of souls that now reside in that body with Lazu. As the years stretch out, 'Chikara' will continue to fade away. All that will remain is a superpowered mutt - part Veteran, part Jinn, part Miatch, part Chikara, and whomever else was avatar before them. It's already happening. We're meant to die at the front of battle, you said. This is true. That's how Chikara would have lived."

Selena raised her hands.

"And yet here you are, trapped in luxury while your underlings are the ones to enjoy the heat of battle. You promise your citizens safety and security. You dwell in those elaborate palaces you try to insult. You are the people's protector and a beacon of hope. Although you may have darker motives, these are not the actions of Chikara alone. Chikara wouldn't be concerned with making an overland empire. There's no fun in being the superpower. The real fun lies in bringing superpowers to their knees - triumphing over the world's largest armies using nothing but your own cunning and a handful of elite warriors. Your empire is the product of many thoughts, but few of them are Chikara's. The palaces, the luxury, you acting as a beacon of hope... it sounds familiar. Throw in some tea, and you might very well be Veteran."

Selena stopped a few inches in front of the seated Chikara, looking down on her.

"Playing the role of evil overlord will bore you after a century or two - endless ass kissing and worship. The only thing that Chikara had left was the promise of combat with her beloved disciple and rival. Let's face it. I'm the only constant you had in your long life. That's why, despite Lazu's insistence that I perish, you still secretly hope that somewhere, somehow, Selena is still alive. Which she could very well be. I'm no more than a product of your own guilt, here to tell you already know but don't want to admit."

[JRPomazon]

The room was quiet. Solomon stood silently, speechless as he was confronted by the Arch-Inquisitors in their entirety. The anger that stained his face slowly faded, like water diluting ink from it's once crisp self. Marcoh appeared stern buy inside he was in an uproar of joy! Solomon was cornered! Now the inquisition would finally be rid of such a horrible stain and that would be eventually lead to the end and a place among the Quadrate!

"Do you think you have won Marcoh?" Solomon asked.

"It's not about winning Lord Solomon, it is about the good of the empire." Marcoh replied.

"Good of the empire? To place you in my seat?" Solomon said, moving closer to the table.

"Do you think the goddess mad? Or perhaps the people stupid? Or do you think yourself to be brilliant? Well, you must be brilliant. To organize the arch-inquisitors like this and to convince them to join you. My praises, Lord Marcoh. But you forget who I am, what I have done, what I have seen and what I have felt. I lived most of my life surrounded by the darkness of people, their filthy selfish wants and desires choking the very life out of me as I had to fight for every new day."

Solomon continued to crept closer, the men at the table began to feel a terrible pressure.

"It was because of those days that I became who I am and who I am is the man hand-chosen by the goddess herself to purge these lands of FILTH like you!"

Solomon grabbed Marcoh from his seat, which was by his own at the end and brought him close.

"Because I can see it in your EYES Marcoh. OH YES, that same look as the bastards of the old world. That nostalgic GREEEED."

The other men sat helplessly as Marcoh had to stare back at Solomon, his pale green eyes piercing right into his very soul. He could almost FEEL what he was thinking, how desperately now the man with his hands around his neck was holding back his desire to rob him of his life.

"I know who you were Marcoh. The man that sat so comfortably in a seat of the Alliance, sucking on the tit of the emperor." Solomon whispered as Marcoh began to break into a cold sweat. The arch-inquisitor was released from Solomon's grasp, promptly falling on the ground as his legs couldn't support him.

"Only the goddess can usurp me from my seat. You are all welcome to try again anyway, make a plea to have me removed. But I will not guarantee that you won't be unscathed."

They did their jobs well, that is why Solomon did not kill anyone in that room. Solomon left, his crimson cape bellowing behind him as he decided to make use of the scholars instead. Marcoh slowly got to his feet and climbed into his chair, the old man forcing his fat body to operate.

"We will need help." Marcoh said to his colleagues, his voice distressed and shaken.

Edited by JRPomazon, 02 February 2010 - 08:05 PM.

[Goose]

POP goes the weasel!

The poor little creature. It didn't ask to be blown up. And the experiment wasn't supposed to turn out that way. And then to still be conscious as you see yourself growing into the shape of a balloon until BOOM! your splattered all over the walls. Tai'lor decided to stay away from live testing a bit. It was a little cruel, even if it was required every now and then.

But anyway, now he knew that his chemical "growth" combination worked if anything, too well. He'd put that away for later.

Science needed a break. So he went to his door, which had, Tai'lor "Famous Scientist" written on it, and scribbled over the scientist bit and wrote "Scholar." He was both after all. And he felt like reading again, and transcribing things for people, and or examining them and working out solutions. ~HINT HINT~!

Being a scholar was fun.

[JRPomazon]

Despite the recent set backs, Solomon did manage to find a lovely map of old world Verden and a big table to read it on. As the older and slightly torn parchment rolled across the ebony stained table, small clouds of dust rising gently up and settling back down, Solomon began to look hastily for the location known as the Chamber of Sages. With the extensive knowledge of both the Labyrinth and the former Alliance, even the most secret places in the world were not out of reach for the empire. This particular map was recovered from the ruins of the Labyrinth, at least a part that was accessible after it was destroyed. Around the Tor-Denma mountains, was a tiny dot that represented it's location.

If only he could send the templars now. Instead, he had to worry about a wasteful territorial battle with a power-hungry old fool. He would have to make an example of Marcoh if he was going to win the obedience of the arch-inquisitors. Perhaps if he presented his case to the goddess, he could bring an end to this miserable bout and focus on what was important.

However, Marcoh was not the type of man to sit idly and twiddle his thumbs. He went to the chamber of the leader of the Praetorian, to meet with a person who he thought could help him. He approached the doors and asked the guards to allow him to see Steel.

"Please, this is important. I must speak with Lord Steel immediately."

[Chikara Nadir]

The goddess incarnate had fallen silent for the moment, taking her time to pull the heavy metal-clad boots off of her delicate feet without bothering to give Selena the dignity of her attention. The leather soles slipped over her heels with a sick pop of coastal moisture, and were shortly tossed under the bed with little regard. they could be put up later; she was wasting enough time as it was. "Yes, this is a life of luxury," Chikara muttered, almost with a hint of disdain for the fact. "And no, I understand as well as any of our kind that we don't belong in a position of such privilege for long."

She stood and shoved her way past the apparition, making her way back to her oversized dresser with its fine spotless mirror. Its only imperfection was that hers was the sole reflection shining back, whilst she could still sense Selena's breath on her shoulder not far behind, ready to snap the elder's neck in her maw like a lion. She ignored these suspicions, built on years of mistrust and competition between the two during their years spent together as queen and heir apparent -- and especially exacerbated by their opposing interests after Olimandias was brought to ruin. If the spirit could kill her, it would have already. Instead, it only seemed capable of trying to drive her mad.

So Chikara began to undress from her undergarments, damp silk clinging to her from sweat and the ocean breeze. She might as well get into something more comfortable before trying to be rid of Selena's presence and returning to her captains. The woman made no attempts at being modest; it was far from the first time she'd undressed around the other woman. It wasn't a matter of sexual interests; they were both once soldiers in war who often slept in the same ditches, washed in the same creeks, and became far too intimate with one another's bodily forms when helping to fit heavy melee armor onto peers or while dressing wounds.

Her own battle scars were gone, century-old emblems of her endurance int he battlefield stripped of her in the same instant that the knife wound in her stomach had disappeared two years ago. She knew Selena was right, of course, that without her old kingdom, her freedom to be sent to battle on a whim, and especially without any enemy worthy of being called an equal…the old Chikara truly was fading away. Some days she found herself humming songs she never knew, trying to quote passages from the Book of Koridai, and mixing them up with another, far older book that she had always loathed. Some evenings she had to excuse herself from political soirées in order to retreat to one of the deepest dungeons of the Arbiter's Grounds to fall into a fit of insane laughter for several hours. Many others dwelt in her now, each as entitled to a piece of the power of Lazu as she. Each wanting to see daylight again through her body.

"I have grand plans for this empire, young one." She might as well have fun bothering the illusion while it haunted her, especially while it bore the form of a girl far younger than the Calatian leader who she had murdered in the mountains not so long ago. "It will be built up into the greatest center of commerce, arts, and technology the world has ever seen. Everyone will belong to it, and everyone will be happy. Calatia. Komitaa. The northern raiders who still cling to independence with false hopes that the Alliance can be rebuilt by their hands. All will know my truth and love it." She slid open a drawer and began to scoop parsels of silk and soft cotton out. Simple white robes to replace her war regalia, as though somehow she felt embarrassed by the gold, crimson, and indigo gowns that might otherwise be chosen in Selena's company. "And when my perfect world is achieved, I will leave it, because I know I have no place in a land such of peace and harmony. Lazu is wonderful to have on your side when you have enemies, but a pointless addition to a world with no war."

She slipped the pieces on over her head, gossamer grecian fluffs of fabric that wafted with every movement of air. If it weren't obvious that every piece of her wardrobe was personally fitted by the finest tailors, jokes could be made that it fell to the floor several inches too long because of her diminutive stature. "I do truly want these people to be happy," she whispered, bundling her hair up and twisting golden twine about the wavy mess to keep it together at the back of her head. "Like I wished you to be happy. That's why I had every intention of dying and giving you the Labyrinth. Of course, you would have hated me all the more for giving you a gift that grand, but things were better that way." Several more feet of the gold twine was wrapped around her waist to hold the robes close to her form. However admired she had become in the world, the woman still was somewhat conscious of looking her best in certain womanly ways.

"So perhaps I welcome you to return from the dead to try and stop me. Funny image, that -- you as my savior from a mundane eternity, keeping me in line by giving me something to fight against for the sake of my empire. But alas, I felt your existence wither away. I made sure that your last heartbeat had ended before stripping your body of any war souvenirs." Chikara smiled somewhat warmly, staring at her own lone image in that mirror while she powdered soft golden dust across her cheeks and forearms. "Not all of us can be resurrected by the gods, my dear. And those of us who remain, insane or not," and she certainly felt like she must be if this apparition were no mere trick created by Lazu to tease her, "have important matters of state to attend to."

She shrugged unassumingly, barefoot and seemingly so weak compared to the amazon soldier before her. "Are you going to follow me back to that meeting I have planned with Lords Steel and Solomon, then? I love them dearly, but there is something refreshing about keeping someone around who's willing to look me in the eye and rub the brown off their nose."

[Selena]

As the present incarnation of the Calatian warlord was just a figment of Chikara's mind, it paid no attention to the temporary state of undress. The real one might have taken a less laissez faire attitude about it, yelling about decency or accusing Chikara of lemony flirtations. Being naked had always been one of the queen's most favorite pasttimes. Usually at inopportune or just plain awkward moments. Probably couldn't get away with that too much in Koridai. Too many civilized people with sensitive tastes. Putting up with a leader that talked to herself must have been odd enough. A naked leader that talked to herself was something out of the question.

"So, you want me to make snide comments about your leading officers that only you can hear? Despite how much I just hate political meetings, I'm fine with that. Just try not to make it too boring," Selena said. She checked herself. "If possible. You're a deity, but I don't think a deity can do much about that."

She stood off to the side to give the queen access to the door - not that she really needed to. But it was better for what remained of Chikara's sanity.

"And good, end yourself. Then the next avatar can destroy everything when he gets the same crazy-juice that made you destroy half of the world in one day. Lazu's chaos, not order. If you wanted peace, you should have befriended Diel. Everything you build will be torn down. You can't 'end' Lazu. Just yourself. There will always be chaos and destruction, no matter how much your current body may want peace. Which I suspect is more Vet's doing than yours. You don't go from centuries of methodically planning domination while maintaining perpetual combat in the Labyrinth to establishing world peace as soon as possible. Not without some other voices in that head of yours."

"And I wouldn't count 'me' out just yet. I'm good at deceiving you. Who knows. Right now I could be getting nursed back to health by Calatia's sweet little blonde ruler," Selena said. "My apprentice is nowhere near as bad as yours, after all."

She cleared her throat.

"Lead the way to the meeting, your excellency. I promise to be quiet unless something needs to be mocked."

[JRPomazon]

The meeting with the goddess would be underway soon. Solomon returned to his personal quarters to prepare himself to look a little more formal for the gathering. The armor he was wearing was more or less covered in dust and soot and he had not bothered to take it off since he arrived. A quick change, just to freshen himself up a bit. The ordeal with the arch-inquisitors was more or less politics as usual, although it was the first time they had all banded together to address Solomon's performance. Seriously, the men who were under him by only a step were attempting to disgrace him from his position, the position given to him by the goddess herself. Damn them to hell. No, he was being too rash. They may not have approved of Solomon's indulgences but they never would take a stand against him like they did earlier. No, they were pushed into this by Marcoh. It was important to remind himself this, one roast ham for supper was enough.

This wasn't the first time that Marcoh had attempted to stir things up in the inquisition. Time and time again he would try and give Solomon a challenge he couldn't handle but each time was met with failure. What Marcoh was doing was trying to stop a man or reason and rational thought. Solomon was only one of those men when he wanted to be. Finally pleased with the small alterations to his outfit, he decided it was time to meet with the goddess once again in the hallowed mirror chamber of the Arbiter's Ground. A smile not belonging to madness crept onto Solomon's face, very much enjoying the fact that he would be graced by the goddess' company soon. He kept his sword by his side, never parting with his crimson saber. He would never discard it unless the goddess told him to, but she did not seem to mind the presentation of arms in her presence.

As for Marcoh, he was not awarded a chance to speak with Lord Steel, who had other pressing matters to attend to at the time. Although he carried a grand title, it meant little outside of the inquisition. Frustrated, the hefty man left and began to stomp through the halls when he discovered a door, which had, Tai'lor "Famous Scientist". Marcoh stood for a moment and decided to grace the good doctor for a visit. Perhaps he could aid him.

Edited by JRPomazon, 08 February 2010 - 02:19 AM.

[Chikara Nadir]

"The day you're quiet is the day…" Chikara found herself drifting off in thought, a few flakes of gold falling from her face when she shifted like molten snow. "Well, I already killed you, so I suppose that would be never."

She shook her head, looking about the room to make sure she hadn't missed anything. "Maybe I should seek out Diel, like you said. Introduce the two of you. You could be good friends, pestering me like two oversized wasps. Not that I have any intention of allowing anyone to come into that much power." One eye twitched, the hint of unrest from one of those others in her head that Selena spoke of. "No one in this world is more powerful than I, girl. I did not choose to be taken hold of by Lazu, he chose me. And if that beast inside me does try to take control, I'll just have to prove that we Loddies don't climb out from the mud to rule empires without good reason. I say that the elder gods left our world because they were too afraid of being killed off by us."

The goddess closed her eyes and stepped forward, throwing forward the door to her innermost chamber to step out into the abandoned hallway. She was expected to be out on the coast by many, still, so there was no need for private guards in this portion of the castle. All important doorways were still guarded elsewhere, and any thieves or traitors were made short work of by the Empress anyway. Still, this meant that the corridor also lacked any lit torches, potential miles of hidden passages that even the most veteran private guard or maid could get lost in without sight to assist in identifying landmarks. She, however, felt more at home here than in the brightest of daylight.

"Your apprentice is no progeny of mine, so you'd best warn her to stay out from underfoot," the petite woman growled, trying her best to keep from snapping at the illusion as she trudged down a steep staircase. "Wouldn't want her to get stepped on, hmm?"

Her voice echoed softly through the catacombs, many which she had simply taken over once Koridai as an empire was formed -- the buildings had existed long before she knew any history of. The woman was even more glad for the absence of other living forms, as she knew how well narrow corridors tended to echo when unobstructed. Especially when one shouted, as she was trying her hardest not to do. Chikara wouldn't want anyone to think that Lazu's insanity was influencing her decisions much, after all!

She passed through a short doorway, stooping down and waving her hand out to catch hold of the scarlet tapestry that hid it, entering into one of the main halls. A breeze blew through, catching her attire and ruffling it at the hem. The hint of an air pressure change suggested that perhaps in the grand library someone had built a fire for the monks to study manuscripts in comfort, or perhaps dinner was being roasted in the kitchen. Far warmer than the coast, the way she liked it. Not that the temperature of any region she laid claim to necessarily bothered her -- unlike that god forsaken mountain range to the west where her opponents stood guard, nor the fortress to the north that so many had fallen to their grave while seeking out their new home two years previous.

"Sir," she called out, catching the attention of a dozing man standing guard down the hall, "You wouldn't happen to have seen any of your superiors come this way not long ago?"

There are certain things that the average man knows by experience, and other things that the average god knows by sense. For one, she knew that this guard had neither a clue who had passed by for hours now, nor had he realized who he was in the presence of. For another, Chikara knew that Solomon was heading her way soon, if he was not waiting for her already.

"I..greatest apologies, your excellency! A priest of the third order came by not long ago, but no other." The scattered man bowed deeply to his knees, at least as much so as he could in that ornamental armor. Chikara knew that the priest he described had come by and already left two hours before.

Still, she was a patient goddess. Her mission of being caring was always being tried to its furthest extent. "Thank you, sir guard. You may be relieved of your duties for the evening, if there is nothing more for you to do here than guard this terribly dull hallway. But I expect you to be fully rested when you report for duty tomorrow."

Chikara smiled warmly, passing by him without even allowing the man to begin a stuttering apology. In a past life, she would have snuck up on the man and smacked him so hard he'd have had trouble chewing for a month. But especially with Selena's mirage in tow, it was a show of how she'd turned over a new leaf.

"One of my best men is waiting for me, a man who would climb to the highest peak or kill the lowliest babe if I told him to," the woman said in a low tone to the illusion. "Such a pity that you turned out to be insolent and murderous, I think you two would have made an adorable couple."

She found herself stepping down another side corridor, the dress of the walls becoming less elaborate until they were bare stone, the tall brown kept washed and clean by her hallowed priests but otherwise left exactly as they were when she had first seen them. The breeze was stronger here, hinting to the open area ahead.

And then, there they were. Ancient stone columns and arches colliding in an untold history of some great nation, a colosseum of sorts that seemed as though it wished to reach to the evening sky…

"And now we wait for him to arrive." Chikara smiled, tingling with the sensation of hidden energy in the area. "Isn't it lovely here, though? The only place I've yet found in this nation that quite compares to the feeling of the halls of the Labyrinth, or I suppose the courts of the Hall or the Chamber, when on occasion we'd breached them back in the day…"

[JRPomazon]

Solomon began his descent to the mirror chamber, the broad and open hallways began to become more closed off as he progressed up, the light unable to penetrate as well as it would the "public" lower floors. The darkness that cloaked the halls was no stranger to Solomon, he had the chance to make an lasting acquaintanceship with it some time ago. His eyes could see just as well in the depths as it could on the surface. Every time he entered the darkness, a feint echo would ring in his head. It was not madness, but rather a memory that lasted with him. Back in his cell in Plentrich, at a time he was left to rot away and cared for just enough so he wouldn't go and die.

It didn't matter now, these memories were nothing but figments. Dancing images of fools and bastards, playing god and fabricating justice. If given the chance, Solomon would kill them all again.

A breeze and slight sting of the scar on his neck, he was close to his destination now. He emerged from the darkness and found himself underneath a sky graced by the evening stars. Before him was the goddess, in all her glory waiting . . . waiting? How could he allow her to WAIT ON HIM!? How long had she been here? UNATTENDED NO LESS? His mind ran in circles, several different scenarios playing at once and neither of them good in the slightest bit. Granted she was the goddess but if anything were to . . . Solomon slowly calmed himself, she held the power to change the world and surely she could handle herself if need be. He scolded himself for his unnecessary worrying and proceeded.

"Your Ladyship, you must forgive my tardiness. I hope I had not kept you waiting for too long." Solomon said, bowing in respect as the wind began to wave his cape in the breeze.

"It is wonderful to see you again."

Edited by JRPomazon, 08 February 2010 - 04:42 AM.