Concerning this little bit: "He will not raise a weapon against those without arms; whether it is because he holds pity or sees staining his hand as a waste of time is unknown."
It's hard to say if he isn't just faking the whole chivalry thing. Heh.
Faking is ok too! The the executions be partaken upon!
Sorry about the delay, I was typing a thing for Deos. Yeah it would kinda make sense to have the two war lovers close by. Though may also make sense to have them far apart as a sort of friendly rival. However I'd be glad to have a fellow war lover close by to invite over for tea and executions. Though your code of honor may make the second part a bit awkward... Maybe just tea and courtesans for him.
Another note to make. I love how our characters both love war but have damn near opposite views of it as well as ways of kinda going about it.
Actually on the topics of neighbors. Deos' realm of Yirathlx, has a real world door that leads to it. Like a sort of physical spirit gate that connects the two. Think like the Gate to Hell in Turkmenistan. This gate has to be somewhere... So would anybody like for the gate to be near their holdings? Maybe be buds with the Sovereign of War?
Oh and for all present... Deos will get a bit of a buff to his writings. Not like an increase in power, but like more detail in places I feel I kinda skimped on. You know if you care to read more detail on 'em.
When not adorned with his spectral armor Deos often takes the appearance of a human, clad often in dark colored dress clothes, favoring blacks and reds above all else. His hair is often unkempt and generally messy with the color changing between black and red depending on what shade he feels like wearing. His eyes are one very curious part about him that shows the world he is no human as they are pure black with nothing but a red iris to denote any change in color. That however is not the strangest thing that sets him apart from mortal men. The strangest is the cut on his neck from when he was beheaded ages ago, healed by foul magic and wicked ways, but still containing the black stitching that once held the two together.
For his frame he holds a rather lithe and toned body, despite his supernatural strength. His skin is a rather tan hue and with a well-kept complexion again despite his rather dark or aggressive life. Particularly interesting about that same bit of information is that his body is near devoid of scars or blemishes despite his beheading mark, again despite his incredibly violent life. Not because he doesn’t take injury but because he heals himself from any harm his foes deal him, even going so far as to take away the scarring as he doesn’t particularly like the blemishing of his body. The only reason he keeps the neck scar is because he believes it gives him some character and wears it almost as a morbid necklace. Finally are his oversized demon wings that stretch out of his back. Bat wings with black bone structure with red internal membranes they clearly show that he is no angel. Even with their size he has incredible control over them, allowing him to almost use them as hands herding and wrapping his large wingspan around things or people.
When dressed in his “normal” clothing his entire look drastically changes. Clad in dark armored plates that envelope his entire frame with skulls, chains, and horns placed all around the set. His visage of burning armor that spills forth Hellfire from joints, eyes, and creases spins a daunting image for any foe to face. Spaces in the back make room for his massive wings to unfurl and grow to allow him to move swiftly as well as take to the skies despite the armor. His armor is equipped with long claws at the end of each finger that he uses to rend and tear at foes as well as claw and break apart obstacles.
Being the Sovereign of battle, bloodshed, and war Deos ‘ powers revolve around fire and strength. His body is capable of withstanding incredible amounts of trauma having his frame be naturally durable under his magical and powerful armor. His strength is something to be feared, striking with a force though cleaves through bodies and fortifications much as a siege engine would. Letting him lay waste to man, defense, and ground before him. His magic is incredible powerful but just as powerful as it is, it is also focused. His repertoire of spells is low leaving him with the domain of casting powerful blasts and rays of fire that surge from his body.
Similarly for his destructive fire he has to ability to make a vicious transformation into a malicious and incredible powerful Demon Lord. Taking the shape of a burning beast that sheds his wings for another pair of arms, augmenting his strength and magical power in exchange for his speed and ability to fly.
He also contains within him the power of rapid regeneration allowing him to survive and continue to wage war despite taking on grieves wounds and savage injuries. On the topic of healing he is also immortal having very little that can keep him down. Whenever he takes enough damage that would warrant him to “die” he is taken back to his realm of Hell to recover over a span of time.
To reach his realm he has to ability to strike the air before him to rip open portals to and from his lands to not only get himself home, but also take others and bring forth his armies to lay siege. The range of scale of these portals require more time depending on the size, making small single person portals have an instantaneous cast, while large army sized ones can take up to several hours to bring forth. The portals can only connect to his realm though. So while they offer a quick way for him to leave his realm and head back home, he can't use them to just jump from place to place outside of his realm. They must always link back to his realm before heading off to another place. For a portal bigger than a small group of people he must be on site to stabilize it, meaning he must focus on the portal to make one big enough to let an entire army through. While being made, the portals are vulnerable to dispelling magics making it so that if a anti-magic field of a portal disrupting force is present he can't successfully stabilize a portal. Once they are set up however an enemy mage of sufficient power must go to the portal's site to focus and channel dispelling magic to close it.
His final power is that of war domain. His armies and monsters of war all share a large link that he creates to feed them instruction from no matter where he is. He can also use this power to augment a soldier or beast of his with his own strength to assume control over them and fight through them. That particular part only works for those of whom he has domain over however. To assert his domain he can twist and bend any captured prisoners of war or beast to understand the beauty of battle and the pleasure of war.
Items and Equipment:
His sword Omen. This powerful demonic blade is crafted from the nearly indestructible metals taken from his domain and forged in searing Hellfires that temper the blade to be a force of absolute devastation. One key feature of his blade is that he can summon and banish it at will, letting him take arms at the mere flick of a wrist.
His armor is also forged in the same fashion as his sword and much like his sword he can summon and banish it letting the metal seep around him to encase him in his garb and raise him from his usual height of 6 feet to a standing height of 11 feet.
Estates and Realms:
His realm of Yirathlx is a land of war... Battle can always be heard echoing around the streets and fields of the realm, though instead of war and conflict it's training and practice for both current and future battles. All around are fires and pyres burning brightly into the eternal night that envelopes the sky. The obsidian and stone of the city glistens from the dancing light and glint of steel. To many this would be a picture of horror and fuel for nightmares, but for Deos it is a beauty that must be brought to the world so they too may enjoy the splendor of war.
While his realm is held in a spiritual plain that is separated from the mortal world, there is a special place that connect the two worlds. The Gates of Bloodshed stand tall surrounded by the leaking Hellfires of Yirathlx and by monoliths of obsidian that are carved in various statues of guardians, warriors, and beasts. It is from this door that mortals and people of the physical realm can reach his domain to seek audience with the Sovereign of Eternal War. This gate is the only bastion that Deos holds in the mortal world, with his Royal Guards and elite warbeasts patrolling around the obsidian walls and Hell-Steel Spires that stand around the gates.
Deos' home and castle in the centre of his space of battle is the great Hall of Conflict. Surging up high into the sky he has the view to watch over his entire domain and collect all of his spoils and pleasures of war. Keeping his personal quarters as well as his treasure halls filled fit to burst with gold, silver, gems, and other things he values as trophies. Inside the castle is immaculate, showing off a vain side of him that clearly depicts his love of beauty in greed as well as warm with tapestries of past battles and standing armors of countless nations and ages all lines up down the long hallways.
Servants and Beasts:
Among the realm and armies of Deos are hundreds of thousands of dedicated soldiers from many races that he has collected from over the ages. Many are human but some are abnormal... Some standing 8 feet tall with horns and sharp fangs, others with wings and a regal air. All of them having one thing in common, an undying loyalty to their lord of mayhem.
To augment his armies of men are his beasts of war, ranging from living tanks with grafted catapults on their backs, to massive siege beasts that lay waste to walls and armies alike with their massive arms, large goring tusks, and hungry bloodlust. Yet still to take the skies he was winged creatures that range from human sized bats to large airborne monsters that threaten to lift buildings off the ground with their many rending claws and lashing tendrils.
Stories are told of a man who a long time ago dedicated his life to war. Growing up as a knight who cared not for any code of honor or fair maiden to rescue. Instead he drew pleasure from slaughter and joy from carnage. Seeing his foes lay in bloody heaps before him were the only sight he wished for...
Through his lust for battle he commit atrocity after atrocity and battle after battle, until he met his match. The kingdom of Mirath was glorious nation that stood against his home of Nyiara. Only it wasn't as things seemed. Nyiara's army governed by their queen, Lady Amsel grew to distrust and see the monster that Deos was. It was then they sent him away to meet his end in one final battle with an enemy he would all to happily fight. Leading his contingent into a fight that he could never win. Outnumbered beyond count and surrounded he refused to relent, fighting till his body couldn't handle it any longer and he was taken prisoner. Set to be executed the day of his defeat he was met with the axe. Though instead of admitting defeat and relenting he laughed at his accusers and spoke the fateful words, "You have not seen the last of war." Only to be stroke down with a single blow, making his head roll away from his frame.
His words however spoke true as when he was cast away from the living world he found... something. A voice in the darkness that guide him, taking his soul to a long forgotten realm that he named Yirathlx. Finding a home in this desolate land away from the afterlife he fought against the clawing forces of insanity and the boring existence of a life without battle. He recovered and found his form, growing to return back to the world that cut him down and cast him out. However he was not a mortal man anymore...
Bursting forth in a flush of Hellfire and black smoke the monster that Deos Risleth had become surged back from the pits of Hell to slaughter and kill once again, taking in followers, prisoners, and slaves for his own benefit and pleasure. He was unstoppable, and upon finding both Mirath and Nyiara allied after the fall of the monster, he flew into a new war against his former home and enemy, laying waste to them with his supernatural strength and power. Taking as many as he could manage prisoner to corrupt them into his loyal soldiers, bringing them back to a force that was finally directed to the truth... glorious, neverending war.
Deos is the lord of conflict so it's safe to assume he enjoys the pleasure of a sword in hand, but it's not all he is of. War also generates spoils and treasures that he also embodies and enjoys. So more often than not he can be seen with slaves, women, gold, and silver within arms reach.
This has given him a almost conflicting personality that changes depending on if his armor is on or not. When not garbed in plate he takes on a cocky and lighthearted air that cares more for pleasure and drink than blood and metal. However, on the other end of the spectrum he can switch to wanting nothing more than to hear the screams of tortured souls and the clang of sword on sword. Some times this can be almost bipolar in nature having him at a drop of a hat go from enjoying a drink with some of his slaves or consorts to breaking the bottle on the table and goring one. This in turn has given him a rather unstable and crazy reputation.
Burning fires and screams were all that couldn't be heard from down below. Deos had found another bastion of human life, erected to show the world that they had grown to a position of power and progress. However, that wasn't a good thing. They built their world on peace and negotiation which was disgusting and a true atrocity that had to be purged from the world...
In his hand was their king, Lord Bertrand, desperately clutching at the metal hand holding him on his knees, making him look out over the balcony of his own palace to see the slaughter before him, "Isn't it beautiful..." Deos started to say, letting the reverberation from his head radiate out, "All the blood, all the swords, all the warriors creating their art and preforming their dance. It's a wonder and a fleeting pleasure."
Just as he finished a massive tusked war beast, trampled through a collection of Haran warriors who were desperately trying to protect a makeshift barricade. The beast used his tusks to gut and smash several of them letting their strikes glance and barely scratch it's thick hide.
Nearby another barricade was holding out against the soldiers of Deos' army, slashing and thrusting at them with swords and spears. It seemed as though they were winning as no Haranian was getting hurt from behind their tipped carts and falling beams. "You will pay for this you monster!" Lord Bertrand said to the armored man behind him. However his words only brought the sword closer to his neck.
"You call me a monster. I disagree. I am but a humble man, bringing joy to the lives of mortals." He said, watching as the Haranians continued to to repel his soldiers. "Look and see my work, the joy they feel for working together and fighting against their foes." He continued and just a few moments later they started to crumble. Several brutes of Deos' approached the barricade and struck at it, letting their defense start to crumble to let the soldiers advance, turning the tide in an instant. "They had the pleasure of dying happy. Won't you let yourself have the same joy?" He finished looking down to the lord.
"Fuck yo..." Was all he managed before a squelching sound could be hear as Deos clenched his fist, crushing his head like an overripe grape, letting Bertrand's hot blood wash over his fingers. Watching his body slump to the ground he smiled under his helm watching the Siege of Haran come to a bloody close.
It was another day in Yirathlx and particularly in the Hall of Conflict. Deos was doing nothing particularly important, merely watching his wine swirl in his ornate, golden cup. Off to each side was a consort that he had chosen for the day and before him was a series of prisoners being brought through for him to pass judgement on. For each new soul he cast out his free hand and warped them to suit his needs, giving them the gifts of war and the joys that follow. Though the process wasn't gentle the end result made each and every man or woman leave with a wicked smile on their now twisted face.
The next was a young woman, tall and strong, raised right from whatever military she served in before her fateful battle against Deos' hordes. Bound in chains and forced forward at spear point by two of his Court Guard. Deos looked at her with blank eyes, gauging where she would be most useful, but seeing what she was and where she came from would make turning her into a consort of slave a waste of her talent. Instead he raised his hand to turn her into a loyal soldier, but something happened...
There was a call that rang in Deos' mind, a familiar force he hadn't felt in a very long time. Pausing in his ceremony his eyes began to glaze over, entering a sort of trance that confused all present in his Burning Court. His consorts looks to him and pressed their bodies against his thinking something was wrong, while his Court Guards pressed their spears into the prisoner in the event she was the cause of their master's distress. When in his trance, he left his court mentally to peer into the void from which the call came and everything was foreign once more, but deep down it felt familiar, as though he'd been there before.
Nothing was clear, save one thing. That voice. Standing before something so overwhelming was a strange feeling but one that Deos reveled in, such power, such glory, it was beautiful... Hearing the force speak brought chills to him and while the words made no sense to him, in his mind the meaning and drive was made clear. A reason, location, and time was given to his mind and upon the end of the event he returned to his Burning Court. Eyes returning and coming back filled with drive he pushed away both of the consorts and stood up quickly. "Take care of the rest of the prisoners." He said in a curt and almost excited manner. Putting his ornate cup to his lips to took one last big gulp before tossing it to the side, spilling his wine on the searing obsidian that made up the floor beneath his grand throne of Hell-Steel, gold, silver, and fire, making the liquid fizzle and steam away in moments. He was quick to leave, walking with a purpose out of the court to get ready for this meeting of minds that he was promised.
When not adorned with his spectral armor Deos often takes the appearance of a human, clad often in dark colored dress clothes, favoring blacks and reds above all else. His hair is often unkempt and generally messy with the color changing between black and red depending on what shade he feels like wearing. His eyes are one very curious part about him that shows the world he is no human as they are pure black with nothing but a red iris to denote any change in color. That however is not the strangest thing that sets him apart from mortal men. The strangest is the cut on his neck from when he was beheaded ages ago, healed by foul magic and wicked ways, but still containing the black stitching that once held the two together.
For his frame he holds a rather lithe and toned body, despite his supernatural strength. His skin is a rather tan hue and with a well-kept complexion again despite his rather dark or aggressive life. Particularly interesting about that same bit of information is that his body is near devoid of scars or blemishes despite his beheading mark, again despite his incredibly violent life. Not because he doesn’t take injury but because he heals himself from any harm his foes deal him, even going so far as to take away the scarring as he doesn’t particularly like the blemishing of his body. The only reason he keeps the neck scar is because he believes it gives him some character and wears it almost as a morbid necklace. Finally are his oversized demon wings that stretch out of his back. Bat wings with black bone structure with red internal membranes they clearly show that he is no angel. Even with their size he has incredible control over them, allowing him to almost use them as hands herding and wrapping his large wingspan around things or people.
When dressed in his “normal” clothing his entire look drastically changes. Clad in dark armored plates that envelope his entire frame with skulls, chains, and horns placed all around the set. His visage of burning armor that spills forth Hellfire from joints, eyes, and creases spins a daunting image for any foe to face. Spaces in the back make room for his massive wings to unfurl and grow to allow him to move swiftly as well as take to the skies despite the armor. His armor is equipped with long claws at the end of each finger that he uses to rend and tear at foes as well as claw and break apart obstacles.
Being the Sovereign of battle, bloodshed, and war Deos ‘ powers revolve around fire and strength. His body is capable of withstanding incredible amounts of trauma having his frame be naturally durable under his magical and powerful armor. His strength is something to be feared, striking with a force though cleaves through bodies and fortifications much as a siege engine would. Letting him lay waste to man, defense, and ground before him. His magic is incredible powerful but just as powerful as it is, it is also focused. His repertoire of spells is low leaving him with the domain of casting powerful blasts and rays of fire that surge from his body.
Similarly for his destructive fire he has to ability to make a vicious transformation into a malicious and incredible powerful Demon Lord. Taking the shape of a burning beast that sheds his wings for another pair of arms, augmenting his strength and magical power in exchange for his speed and ability to fly.
He also contains within him the power of rapid regeneration allowing him to survive and continue to wage war despite taking on grieves wounds and savage injuries. On the topic of healing he is also immortal having very little that can keep him down. Whenever he takes enough damage that would warrant him to “die” he is taken back to his realm of Hell to recover over a span of time.
To reach his realm he has to ability to strike the air before him to rip open portals to and from his lands to not only get himself home, but also take others and bring forth his armies to lay siege. The range of scale of these portals require more time depending on the size, making small single person portals have an instantaneous cast, while large army sized ones can take up to several hours to bring forth.
His final power is that of war domain. His armies and monsters of war all share a large link that he creates to feed them instruction from no matter where he is. He can also use this power to augment a soldier or beast of his with his own strength to assume control over them and fight through them. That particular part only works for those of whom he has domain over however. To assert his domain he can twist and bend any captured prisoners of war or beast to understand the beauty of battle and the pleasure of war.
Items and Equipment:
His sword Omen. This powerful demonic blade is crafted from the nearly indestructible metals taken from his domain and forged in searing Hellfires that temper the blade to be a force of absolute devastation. One key feature of his blade is that he can summon and banish it at will, letting him take arms at the mere flick of a wrist.
His armor is also forged in the same fashion as his sword and much like his sword he can summon and banish it letting the metal seep around him to encase him in his garb and raise him from his usual height of 6 feet to a standing height of 11 feet.
Estates and Realms:
His realm of Yirathlx is a land of war... Battle can always be heard echoing around the streets and fields of the realm, though instead of war and conflict it's training and practice for both current and future battles. All around are fires and pyres burning brightly into the eternal night that envelopes the sky. The obsidian and stone of the city glistens from the dancing light and glint of steel. To many this would be a picture of horror and fuel for nightmares, but for Deos it is a beauty that must be brought to the world so they too may enjoy the splendor of war.
Deos' home and castle in the centre of his space of battle is the great Hall of Conflict. Surging up high into the sky he has the view to watch over his entire domain and collect all of his spoils and pleasures of war. Keeping his personal quarters as well as his treasure halls filled fit to burst with gold, silver, gems, and other things he values as trophies. Inside the castle is immaculate, showing off a vain side of him that clearly depicts his love of beauty in greed as well as warm with tapestries of past battles and standing armors of countless nations and ages all lines up down the long hallways.
Servants and Beasts:
Among the realm and armies of Deos are hundreds of thousands of dedicated soldiers from many races that he has collected from over the ages. Many are human but some are abnormal... Some standing 8 feet tall with horns and sharp fangs, others with wings and a regal air. All of them having one thing in common, an undying loyalty to their lord of mayhem.
To augment his armies of men are his beasts of war, ranging from living tanks with grafted catapults on their backs, to massive siege beasts that lay waste to walls and armies alike with their massive arms, large goring tusks, and hungry bloodlust. Yet still to take the skies he was winged creatures that range from human sized bats to large airborne monsters that threaten to lift buildings off the ground with their many rending claws and lashing tendrils.
Stories are told of a man who a long time ago dedicated his life to war. Growing up as a knight who cared not for any code of honor or fair maiden to rescue. Instead he drew pleasure from slaughter and joy from carnage. Seeing his foes lay in bloody heaps before him were the only sight he wished for...
Through his lust for battle he commit atrocity after atrocity and battle after battle, until he met his match. The kingdom of Mirath was glorious nation that stood against his home of Nyiara. Only it wasn't as things seemed. Nyiara's army governed by their queen, Lady Amsel grew to distrust and see the monster that Deos was. It was then they sent him away to meet his end in one final battle with an enemy he would all to happily fight. Leading his contingent into a fight that he could never win. Outnumbered beyond count and surrounded he refused to relent, fighting till his body couldn't handle it any longer and he was taken prisoner. Set to be executed the day of his defeat he was met with the axe. Though instead of admitting defeat and relenting he laughed at his accusers and spoke the fateful words, "You have not seen the last of war." Only to be stroke down with a single blow, making his head roll away from his frame.
His words however spoke true as when he was cast away from the living world he found... something. A voice in the darkness that guide him, taking his soul to a long forgotten realm that he named Yirathlx. Finding a home in this desolate land away from the afterlife he fought against the clawing forces of insanity and the boring existence of a life without battle. He recovered and found his form, growing to return back to the world that cut him down and cast him out. However he was not a mortal man anymore...
Bursting forth in a flush of Hellfire and black smoke the monster that Deos Risleth had become surged back from the pits of Hell to slaughter and kill once again, taking in followers, prisoners, and slaves for his own benefit and pleasure. He was unstoppable, and upon finding both Mirath and Nyiara allied after the fall of the monster, he flew into a new war against his former home and enemy, laying waste to them with his supernatural strength and power. Taking as many as he could manage prisoner to corrupt them into his loyal soldiers, bringing them back to a force that was finally directed to the truth... glorious, neverending war.
Deos is the lord of conflict so it's safe to assume he enjoys the pleasure of a sword in hand, but it's not all he is of. War also generates spoils and treasures that he also embodies and enjoys. So more often than not he can be seen with slaves, women, gold, and silver within arms reach.
This has given him a almost conflicting personality that changes depending on if his armor is on or not. When not garbed in plate he takes on a cocky and lighthearted air that cares more for pleasure and drink than blood and metal. However, on the other end of the spectrum he can switch to wanting nothing more than to hear the screams of tortured souls and the clang of sword on sword. Some times this can be almost bipolar in nature having him at a drop of a hat go from enjoying a drink with some of his slaves or consorts to breaking the bottle on the table and goring one. This in turn has given him a rather unstable and crazy reputation.
Burning fires and screams were all that couldn't be heard from down below. Deos had found another bastion of human life, erected to show the world that they had grown to a position of power and progress. However, that wasn't a good thing. They built their world on peace and negotiation which was disgusting and a true atrocity that had to be purged from the world...
In his hand was their king, Lord Bertrand, desperately clutching at the metal hand holding him on his knees, making him look out over the balcony of his own palace to see the slaughter before him, "Isn't it beautiful..." Deos started to say, letting the reverberation from his head radiate out, "All the blood, all the swords, all the warriors creating their art and preforming their dance. It's a wonder and a fleeting pleasure."
Just as he finished a massive tusked war beast, trampled through a collection of Haran warriors who were desperately trying to protect a makeshift barricade. The beast used his tusks to gut and smash several of them letting their strikes glance and barely scratch it's thick hide.
Nearby another barricade was holding out against the soldiers of Deos' army, slashing and thrusting at them with swords and spears. It seemed as though they were winning as no Haranian was getting hurt from behind their tipped carts and falling beams. "You will pay for this you monster!" Lord Bertrand said to the armored man behind him. However his words only brought the sword closer to his neck.
"You call me a monster. I disagree. I am but a humble man, bringing joy to the lives of mortals." He said, watching as the Haranians continued to to repel his soldiers. "Look and see my work, the joy they feel for working together and fighting against their foes." He continued and just a few moments later they started to crumble. Several brutes of Deos' approached the barricade and struck at it, letting their defense start to crumble to let the soldiers advance, turning the tide in an instant. "They had the pleasure of dying happy. Won't you let yourself have the same joy?" He finished looking down to the lord.
"Fuck yo..." Was all he managed before a squelching sound could be hear as Deos clenched his fist, crushing his head like an overripe grape, letting Bertrand's hot blood wash over his fingers. Watching his body slump to the ground he smiled under his helm watching the Siege of Haran come to a bloody close.
It was another day in Yirathlx and particularly in the Hall of Conflict. Deos was doing nothing particularly important, merely watching his wine swirl in his ornate, golden cup. Off to each side was a consort that he had chosen for the day and before him was a series of prisoners being brought through for him to pass judgement on. For each new soul he cast out his free hand and warped them to suit his needs, giving them the gifts of war and the joys that follow. Though the process wasn't gentle the end result made each and every man or woman leave with a wicked smile on their now twisted face.
The next was a young woman, tall and strong, raised right from whatever military she served in before her fateful battle against Deos' hordes. Bound in chains and forced forward at spear point by two of his Court Guard. Deos looked at her with blank eyes, gauging where she would be most useful, but seeing what she was and where she came from would make turning her into a consort of slave a waste of her talent. Instead he raised his hand to turn her into a loyal soldier, but something happened...
There was a call that rang in Deos' mind, a familiar force he hadn't felt in a very long time. Pausing in his ceremony his eyes began to glaze over, entering a sort of trance that confused all present in his Burning Court. His consorts looks to him and pressed their bodies against his thinking something was wrong, while his Court Guards pressed their spears into the prisoner in the event she was the cause of their master's distress. When in his trance, he left his court mentally to peer into the void from which the call came and everything was foreign once more, but deep down it felt familiar, as though he'd been there before.
Nothing was clear, save one thing. That voice. Standing before something so overwhelming was a strange feeling but one that Deos reveled in, such power, such glory, it was beautiful... Hearing the force speak brought chills to him and while the words made no sense to him, in his mind the meaning and drive was made clear. A reason, location, and time was given to his mind and upon the end of the event he returned to his Burning Court. Eyes returning and coming back filled with drive he pushed away both of the consorts and stood up quickly. "Take care of the rest of the prisoners." He said in a curt and almost excited manner. Putting his ornate cup to his lips to took one last big gulp before tossing it to the side, spilling his wine on the searing obsidian that made up the floor beneath his grand throne of Hell-Steel, gold, silver, and fire, making the liquid fizzle and steam away in moments. He was quick to leave, walking with a purpose out of the court to get ready for this meeting of minds that he was promised.
I have so much I wish to say, but I gave my word. Let's just go back to having fun. Watch the videos and don't Google Portuguese Breakfast. It's another thing I regret searching for.
