Post by leond on Apr 3, 2004 21:32:40 GMT -5
Maguslncarnate: (I'm going to log this.)
V Leon V: (Good. Is this going to be dice or free-form?)
Maguslncarnate: (Free-form if that's alright with you? I actually can't
stand dice personally.)
V Leon V: (That's fine I suppose. Any special rules before we begin?)
Maguslncarnate: (Only that you don't have to worry about speed typing. It'll
be turn-based with my charrie going first, so just relax and have fun with it
)V Leon V: (Okay. You start the setting for us then. ::Goes IC:: )
Maguslncarnate: (::Dissapears IC:: )
Maguslncarnate: ::The air itself seemed to considerably 'thicken', as if it
were being squeezed to make room for the utterly malignant prescence that
sought the dark knight on this fated night. The clouds above seemed to swirl
together rather
Maguslncarnate: suddenly, as they came to crash against one another to form
a spiraling cloud in a curvature of such magnitude it could only be deduced
as a vortex. The winds had carried themselves up to gale-force, and from the
arising collumns of
Maguslncarnate: dust and ash that had settled across the forlorn and
annihlated region of what was once a majestic land of greenery, came forth
the imposing frame of the Dark Lord of the Rim himself. Clad in that lengthy
robe as black as that of
Maguslncarnate: utter sackloth, his crimson hues that gleamed with an
unparralled intensity as he strode forward into what was once the throne of a
massive castle..now but a mound of debris set amidst decaying soil. There,
the dark one awaited...
Maguslncarnate: his utterly pallid expression belying nothing of what he
may..or may not be thinking at any given moment::
V Leon V: ::For some reason, the former Dark Knight of the fallen kingdom
had been given no cause for alarm as he rode past the hundreds of demonic
creatures that were along the path on the way to where the castle of
Thoralinar once stood. He
V Leon V: had an inkling though as to why...the Magus had probably seen fit
to allow him passage for this last confrontation. So, heading to the shambles
of the castle came the knight clad in his heavy, crimson and noir armours.
Dismounting,
V Leon V: he heads for the familiar figure of the warlord:: Magus......
Maguslncarnate: ::He spoke then, in that deep, resonating baritone that
seemed to carry with it the quality of the purest sense of that which is
Malice itself. He had his back turned towards the knight for now, his
lengthy, nearly nightmarishly-
Maguslncarnate: black cloak drawn close about his imposing frame:: ....Sir
Leon.....do you not foresee where this battle will lead...? I give thee one
last chance to get back upon thy steed...
Maguslncarnate: ...and return from whence thee came....
V Leon V: ::He gritted his teeth together, and boldly steps forward to
approach the warlord. His home, his comrades, his family..all gone because of
this man. His eyes burned with anger:: I shall not! You are the living,
breathing essence of
V Leon V: evil! I will do what the others could not..and I will bring your
head personally home with me dark one!
RaduntStar: ::Approaching upon horseback was a figure cloaked in white.. The
hood was down, and silver curles hung loose in a tangled mess down her
shoulders and back.. As they neared the two, the woman drew back the reins,
and the equine came
RaduntStar: to an abrupt hault.. The woman's silver eyes darted between the
two of them, and soon settled upon ][Leon][ synpathetically.. She remained
where she was, away from the two, still mounted and reaching down to pat the
horse's thick
RaduntStar: neck::
Maguslncarnate: ::A singular nod is given toward the arriving form of Lacey,
before the Dark Lord would cant his infinitely cold, crimson gaze back to
that of the knight. A brow lifts but a moment, as Leon boldly approaches him.
He lifts his right
Maguslncarnate: hand then, to tighten the black glove upon it momentarily,
his eyes narrowing considerably as the skies themselves grew considerably
darker than usual, the skies being split with pulsating arcs of crimson
lightening and rolling,
Maguslncarnate: tremendous thunder. He spoke then, in that resonating tone
that seemed to pulse with nearly tangible waves of that utterly pure Malice::
....So be it.....Sir Leon...prepare thyself....