DELETED087367

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Well, that sort of hypnosis doesn't really work on beings of the Veiled World. His aura of power and prestige, while almost tangible to all of you, is blinding to most mortals.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

I'll be posting soon.

My MEPS went surprisingly well. Basic training shouldn't be too far off.

And many thanks for the header, Dot. You can all now look forward to that suave bastard staring you in the eye at the beginning of each of my posts.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

I've just got my Air Force physical evaluation tomorrow. I guess this is the part when I shove you guys into lockers.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Oh, incidentally, Derren, Sethan's Russian amounts to something like "I pleasure myself meeting you."

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Hey, you're no shabby image editor by my reckoning, Dot. Hell of a lot better than me, at least.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Sethan shook the hand of his old acquaintance and chuckled at his jokes. There was no harm in being friendly with your co-workers, and Atticus was an amiable fellow if nothing else. Demons were something of a mystery to Sethan, as he hadn't any recollection of encountering them prior to his re-awakening. Normally he would attribute this to his spotty memory, but he had memories of dealings with Djinni, fiery beings from the east that were vaguely similar in description, and so the lack of demons were rather anomalous. More mysteries of the world to unravel, he supposed. Still, he did wish a bit that the man would not touch him so casually. Sethan said nothing about it, but was still mildly annoyed and slightly disgusted by the man laying his hands on him without invitation.

Atticus introduced him to a Mr. Makarov, the balding man he had noticed before. He was just as pitiful a creature up close, and Sethan was now acutely aware of the man's undead nature. A better make than the common zombie, but still an inferior revival to Sethan's own divine rebirth. Though he couldn't judge Makarov too much; not everybody could be as great as Sethan. Atticus clearly had quite a few other people to deal with, and so he would humor the demon by chatting up this wight and keep out of his hair for a short while. Judging by the others that continued to arrive, he would need all of the patience he could muster. The man truly had a talent for assembling such pitiful creatures. Sethan himself excluded, naturally.

"Я приятно тебе себя," Sethan made an attempt to greet the man in his shoddy Russian, and held out his heavily-jeweled hand to be shaken. "I am Sethan, Son of Ra, Ruler of Souls, Twelfth in my dynasty." He felt a slight tinge of self-satisfaction from not demanding that the man refer to him as King. "Now, what is this I hear about gold? I should think there is quite much to tell, as you already seem to be a man after my own heart," He lowered his voice, just quiet enough for only Makarov to hear him. "Unbeating, as it may be."

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Incidentally, I wouldn't mind if someone were charitable enough to make me a fancy-pants header for my posts.

I feel like Sethan wouldn't forgive me if I allowed mere text to herald his continued escapades.

The Heavens Aflame - A Civil War Amongst the Deities

Deep within his shadowed palace at the shores of Shurzunartes, Mikazliqui rested on his throne in a languid posture. He slowly swirled a crimson-filled goblet, his ruby eyes locked on a scrying pool focused on the world below. As the news arrived of the God-King's death, he had sent messengers to his Vampires in the form of Shades. The dark ephemerals merged with his nocturnal brood to form Revenants, essentially living conduits of his voice. March on the holy city of Aroesus, he had told them, and claim it in the name of your father and master. His children were all too happy to oblige, and had bred and infected others to inflate their numbers for such a conquest. And now, as the pitch of night fell over the anarchic city, its streets would run with blood.

Like a swarm of rats or scarabs, the cursed lineage of Mikazliqui poured from the wilderness and into the city. Like a mighty river, they surged up and over the city walls, scaling the sheer surface in such numbers as to cover them completely. Pounding on the gates was a force of enthralled Ghouls and zombies raised by the Vampire necro-shamans. Nulls, horrifying abominations formed by the forceful infliction of the Pariah King's curse on incompatible beings, threw themselves with bestial savagery at the city's pitiful defenses. What was mere civil unrest hours before then became a storm of carnage.

With fang, claw and blade the cursed brood spilled the blood of the city's inhabitants, and they reveled in it. However, their cruelty was not that petty. Rather than to end lives, they sought to ruin them. Instead of killing, they converted; assimilating the citizens of the city into their horrific swarm. Crying mothers ate their own children, made ravenous by the maddening hunger of being forcibly turned. Screams echoed through the night, and the once shining metropolis now glistened crimson.

With a neutral, almost bored expression, Mikazliqui watched the slaughter unfold. He turned his attention to its goblet, peering into the glistening liquid within. It peered back at him with a sorrow gaze that begged for mercy. He downed the goblet in a single gulp, and held it out to be refilled by one of his passing Shade servants. Things were getting interesting now, and he had to keep well aware of the goings-on above, below and within the mortal world.

The Heavens Aflame - A Civil War Amongst the Deities

Seemed fine to me. I'll try to get a post up soon.

The Heavens Aflame - A Civil War Amongst the Deities

HeySeuss said
Mysia is...who is she shouting at, Zach? I'm not sure what Eskellon is doing.

This... does a bit to validate my point.

Thanks for the clarification, anyway.