NPCs - Thoughts Beyond the Veil

[GodBeastX]

Foreward

The purpose of this thread is to give a different perspective on NPCs that have been in play in Sundren. Hopefully this will give players a little literary insight on the inner minds of NPCs and events. It's purely for entertainment purposes and giving color to the server. None of this should be taken as IC knowledge.

[GodBeastX]

Hadavi - My Life for the Father

Hadavi sat silently staring out of a window into the endless arctic landscape before her. She was upon a chair that was drawn up to a writing desk. Within her hand was a quill that was soaked in fresh ink. Before her lay an open and bound tome that had become her log of her existence. This existence was one she believed to be eternal. She prepared herself to scribe another entry, however, her mind had become clouded these days. Within it were thoughts of subjects she kept hidden from her brethren united among her father's flock.

No, instead of placing upon the pages the thoughts of her mind, her eyes watched idly the mists for snow dance upon the gusts of chilling winds. The gales gave it animation but it was her imagination that had given life to these sprinkles of ice. They came alive before her, playing upon her mind images of faces and individuals whom she had not beheld in some time. They called to her, speaking of their desires and thoughts, letting them settle upon her weighted shoulders.

The first of these faces was Syran, the one called heretic by so many. He had been a pillar of strength for their household and beloved by the Dark Father. More than any other he flaunted his gifts and even forged new ones. He laughingly mocked the other gods, putting Colibrus far above them all. He did such things with such great passion and joy. Even more than this, he truly was a brother to Hadavi. One who showed concern for his sister, not only being one to aid, but also giving direction to her own ends. She strived to be bold and serve just as he.

Suddenly his end came at the hands of the enemies of the Black Banner. This blow shattered something deep within the vampiress. Despite what she was, chosen of the Blood God, she herself felt the weight of loss. Where it was pity for those who had not known Colibrus, where there could be patience in their ignorance, there was now a burning hatred. One that demanded her brother's blood be avenged.

And her daughter Katria's image fell upon her eyes. She was related not only by blood but by flesh as well. She had become a symbol of Hadavi's failings in her quest to serve the Dark Father. Her own child not only cast aside Hadavi, but fled to the arms of her enemies. The very ones who had put Syran to the blade.

Despite these things, when the brothers came together to decide Katria's fate, Hadavi could not bring her hand to scourge her own child. Love was a fickle emotion, making fools of many, yet it existed within Hadavi as well. No, she could not be the one to end the days of Katria. She wished for the child to grow close the Father and excel far beyond her mother. She wanted her to be a legends and a symbol of pride for all of Colibrus' kind. Now, she wondered if this would ever be possible.

Though her hand would lay still against her child, no mercy would be shown for those who had poisoned her mind. No compassion for those who would plead for their lives before her. The valley would run red in the crimson life force of all who danced in merriment as she suffered in the dark recesses of the world while her family was torn asunder. Her life was owed to the Dark Father, and his will was her own in all things.

She would push forward her plan to blight the valley, and let the Blood God sort the righteous from the wicked according to his desire alone... she only prayed that mercy would be granted for her wayward child.

[GodBeastX]

The Last Moments of Octavius Argyle

Octavius Argyle was the only son of Frederick Argyle. Frederick Argyle was a wealthy merchant who came to Sundren, not simply for monetary gain, but for political as well. He placed himself before the courts of Sundren, seeking recognition as a noble within the lands. A title that would gain him a great deal of prestige. Yet he was denied his goals and passed on from the world never seeing his desires fulfilled.

Octavius held a loathing for the houses of Sundren and their foolish courts. They would be condemned before him for the betrayal of his father. He would empty his father's coffers in his quest for vengeance. Such is always the beginning of the end for many. So long did he gaze at what he believed was the corruption in others that he blinded his eyes to the corruption within. He spent even his last gold piece in acquisition of the resources. He even broke the backs of his servants in the construction of the cursed tower that was demanded of him by his accomplice, the Arch Demoniac Mage, Mordechai.

Yet here, in the inner halls of his castle, before him Mordechai was placing the final piece into place on the vast road to satisfaction. For these halls, which once were lavishly adorned in the finer treasures of his father's conquest, were now bathed in blood and runes. It had become the chamber housing the ritual that would inflict the deepest maladictions upon his enemies while he would be blessed with power far beyond the recognition of mortals. Yes, he would become like a god in his own right.

He watched in blazing expectation as the rites were performed. Mordechai sprinkling the blood of the nameless peasant that was given in sacrifice for the ritual. It was a payment already added to the others who were given in blood which was poured out in the etching of the circle. And as blood fell, Mordechai called out loud in a voice that spewed forth disgusting things which would torment even the ears of the most insane. For the unholy ceremony had come to it's climax, and Mordechai had recited the final incantations.

The castle itself heaved and shuddered while the air before them warped and groaned as though existence itself felt great agony. A tear erupted in the center of the circle before them, groaning out the unclean horrors of the deepest abyss. And in a final conflagration of chaos itself, a way was made open into the realms of the Abyss, and Octavius did weep in fear. For even in his deepest nightmares had such a sight never been beheld. Yet, all the while Mordechai's face shaped into a sinister grin as he took delight in his own machinations.

The ground shook in it's place as the mere foot of the great demon emerged from the barely visible ebon gateway. The stone beneath it grew black and twisted under the weight of unmitigated evil and chaos. His clawed hands reaching out took hold of the edge of reality itself, pulling the whole of his body clear into view. The behemoth of demons towered over them with eyes screaming revulsion for the two mortals that summoned it forth. A unholy plume of flame snorted from it's snout in disgust, forcing Octavius to wet himself freely. He fell to his backside unprepared for what his Human eyes had unleashed upon his mind.

Mordechai turned his head, peering over his shoulder. His maniacal grin still present as he stared long and hard at the cowering Octavius. His mouth cracked into taunts upon the young benefactor.

"You stand before the hour of triumph and quake with fear? Have you no backbone, son of Frederick, to look in the eyes your own demise for the sake of the ends you wish to bring?"

It was the demon's strike at the circle binding it that brought the attention of the two back to the fore. Like the sounds of steel cleaving steel the might of it's strikes ripped at the unseen barrier but gained the demon no avail. It was trapped within the circle, and at the mercy of the ones who brought it forth.

An ear shattering roar escaped it's throat, shaking the very foundations of the castle itself. It's wings lit aflame as it's anger burned bright within it's core. Yet no harm could it bring upon those before it. It would only shout horrors and obscenities upon the two, diminishing what spirit they had. Finally it's eyes fell upon Mordechai, it becoming as peaceable as possible for a Demon of this magnitude. And though no words were spoken, Mordechai knew it was time to complete the task at hand.

"Great one, your power is far beyond my own. I am but an insect that has slowed the approach of the spider, but not halted it by any means. I beg a boon for this undeserving one, that you grant me gifts of power. And in exchange..."

Mordechai's eyes turned from the demon toward Octavius whose mouth stood agape as he rose to his feet. Mordechai raised a declaring finger towards the petrified man, and uttered the damning words.

"... in exchange he and all of his shall be yours to feed upon and torment to your delight. Drink of their souls and become fat in pleasure and grant to me the power of the Abyss itself."

Octavius' heart paused as his mind worked over the words uttered. Betrayal, again, by the one he spared no expense to empower. A thought he did not believe possible had come to pass, and oh the pain of it all.

He rushed towards the door to his hall flinging it wide, screaming for the soldiers of his house to come forth. And there in wait they stood, already shaken by all the sounds that erupted from the hall before them.

"Guards! GUARDS! To the great hall! I beg of you! Muster your weapons!"

Soon the doorway was blocked by armed soldiers of house Argyle, ready to defend their lord, though their hearts sank into their bellies as their sight beheld the manifestation of evil bound within the circle. Octavius stood at their fore, redoubling his mind to oppose his betrayer. With boldness he pointed out Mordechai.

"Seize that man! I demand of you!"

Yet none moved to his call. Their bodies made still by the terrors of the Abyss. Mordechai laughed in opposition at Octavius' command. He let verbal abuse pass his lips, further breaking the morale of the guards.

"Your men cower as rodents before the maw of the lion, young Argyle. Perhaps I shall direct them to feed you first to the demonic lord in exchange for their own freedom from his ire."

"Treacherous Heathen!"

Octavius tore a blade from the grips of one guard, brandishing it against Mordechai. He charged at the wizard, shouting screams of battle, but Octavius was no warrior. The wizard evaded his bull rush easily, sending the fool toppling forward, and sliding across the floor of the great hall.

As Octavius regained his orientation he found himself at the edge of the etched circle, binding the massive demon that now set his gaze upon the young Argyle. He gathered himself up slowly, looking upon his own palm he brought before his face. The pink flesh was now stained in blood. Mordechai looked on in sudden panic. For in losing his balance, Octavius had smudged the markings of the circle.

"You fool! Do you realize what you have done?!"

The demon's deep bellowing laughter began to slowly creep into the air. He reared up, gazing over the whole of the group as his Mirth gave voice to his echoing chortle. The soldiers at the doorway took steps back, readying themselves for anything as Mordechai flipped through a tome at his side in a rush, attempting to find a means to banish the fiend.

With a solid earthshaking step the demon rushed towards Mordechai snatching up his body within his massive grips. Mordechai struggling in vanity against the raw might of the monstrous beast.

"N-no! It can't--- End like this!"

And in an instant, his body was crushed under the force of the Demon's grasp, blood and gore spraying upon the walls and the floor. Octavius watched on, defeated as realization set in. He had damned so many in his quest for revenge, and now his own doom was assured.

"Dear lord... what have I done?"

No sooner than he uttered these words, did hosts of lesser demons flood through the rift they had opened. And without Mordechai to close it, it remained open, inviting the ebon tendrils of the abyss to take hold of the chamber and work it's own masses into a frenzy. The soldiers broke before the hordes of demons, fleeing from the chambers, but there was no escaping the outstretched hands of their end.

Octavius, laying upon his back without the will to move, watched as the great demon turned it's gaze upon him. He closed his eyes uttering a silent prayer for his soul as the massive foot of the demon came hovering above him.

"Great watcher Helm, guard my passing as I am delivered into your grace..."

... and it's foot came crashing down.

Thus began the fall of Argyle Keep, and thus ended the lineage of Frederick Argyle.

[GodBeastX]

Tyrannical Alliance

The fireplace gave warm light to the whole of the Hellsmaw Taven. A fitting name for the bastion of the Devil's chosen. Most of the devil-touched men and women slept for the night giving an eerie silence to the commons of the inn, save for the crackling of the flames themselves.

Armand sat at the table, sipping upon his wine in his nightly ritual. Only the finest would do to suit his palette. Across from him sat his visitor. A woman who appeared to be in her upper twenties, with onyx hair and unblemished skin of alabaster. She adorned herself in black robes which would give her an intimidating appearance if not for her beauty.

They watched one another in pure silence for quite awhile as Armand mulled over her proposition. He had spent more time in the valley than he wished and knew he hadn't much more to give. Their campaign against the abyssal spawn was more than they had anticipated as the keep on the hill spilled out more denizens to replace any they would banish back to the chaos that spawned them. It's lord far too formidable for their meager forces. He knew well what must be done if success would be theirs.

Armand set his glass upon the table, being the first to break the silence.

"This is a dangerous bargain you would have us agree to, Katria. Your -children- are far too conspicuous for my tastes. There isn't a voice in the valley that does not speak of vampires waiting in the shadows. Throwing our lot in with your ilk, how would we maintain any holdings we have if we're labelled vampire sympathizers?"

A smile crept upon Katria's features as she listened. She already anticipated his concerns. After all, she had the very same ones. Yet, she would lay them to rest.

"Armand, you know well I have little to do with these childer who rush about making menaces of themselves. It's not as though I need make light of our arrangements so that we will be lumped together in the eyes of the people."

Armand sat up straight as he shook his head in dismissal.

"It's important to us that our dealings with this keep be as lawful as possible. Sundren is a powerful enemy to make for us. We must be blameless in it's eyes or we're working for naught. What good is it for us to take hold of this land only to have it stripped from us as criminals?"

Katria shrugged her shoulders, her smile never faltering for even a moment.

"You know our agenda in this land and you know how close we are to seeing it through. If I were you, Armand, I'd be more concerned with how you intend to hold onto these lands when lord Blackhand comes knocking at your door for his dues. I can't protect you from it if you don't give me something to work with."

Armand's face grew twisted with disgust at Katria's words. He knew she was right on the matter, but the thought of his head bowing to any but the arch duke himself was enough to fill his throat with bile.

"What place has the Black Hand with us? We serve a master already, one who has made our place assured with the nine. Why should we lower ourselves beneath you simple tyrants when the truest Tyrant has already command over us?"

Katria's eyes fluttered for a moment.

"Armand, dear. I don't recall saying you had to do such a thing. I'm certain I can sway Elric to leave your little lands intact when the time comes so long as you come through with your end of the bargain. If anything this is nothing but a positive gain for you and your lackeys. You gain your keep, immunity to the marching armies, and an ally in me. And the price is so small in comparison. I'd say that's quite a wonderful bargain. I am rather generous to a fault, after all."

Armand crossed his arms watching Katria with great skepticism. He had signed the devil's contract already, could he weather another from a vampire? And what if he failed in his endeavor here. What torments would await him at the end of his life's strand? No, he would have to agree, he had no choice on the matter.

"Very well, Katria. We will do things your way, but mark my words. If you break this contract, you will find the flames of Mephistopholes himself licking at your flesh for an eternity to come. I'll see to that."

Katria sat straight herself, letting her soft voice fall upon the air.

"My my, Armand. You certainly do paint quite the picture. Worry not, it does me little benefit to betray my allies. I've much greater plans than this silly valley. Let the Black Lord and his kings have the land, it's worthless compared to what I wish to achieve."