Lord Wraith — Roleplayer Guild

Location: Tlapallan - Xebel, AtlantisThe Tyranny of King Orvax #1.01: The Rebel from Xebel
Interaction(s): NonePreviously: Regicide before Reign

The meaty sound of flesh upon flesh echoed through the waves as Namor felt his body float upwards under the force of the blow. Blood was spat from between his pursed lips as he regained his balance and quickly swam downwards to counterstrike his foe. Stretching his hands outwards, Namor used his momentum to take the taller Atlantean by the shoulders as he brought his feet into the other man’s chest. Twisting his lower torso upwards, Namor carried the other Atlantean over his head as he drove him into the shallow ceiling of the establishment.

“I just wanted to enjoy my drink and endure another drunken evening to myself,” Namor smiled, gesturing towards the broken liquid container.  “I have no quarrel with you.” He laughed dryly, wiping the blood on his lower lip as he watched it disappear into the surrounding water.

“I won’t just sit here and drink while some half-breed pollutes my waters.” The other Atlantean retorted cheers echoed from behind him as Namor rolled his eyes, cracking his neck and relaxing his shoulders.

“If I throw you out on your γαμημένος κώλος, can I go back to my drink?” Namor replied, a cocky half-smile crossing his face. The other Atlantean merely snarled in response before charging towards the Xebellian Prince. Pushing off against the tavern floor, Namor glided out of the path of the charging man. A sharp crack resounded through the room as a well-placed elbow connected with the base of the other man’s skull as Namor threw his arm backwards. 

The blow deprived the other Atlantean of his balance sending him head over heels as he careened into a nearby table and its accompanying chairs. Grabbing the fallen man by the braids hanging from the back of his head, Namor dragged the writhing body towards the tavern’s exit only for the door to open unexpectedly as he approached it. 

“Byrrah!” Namor exclaimed with a smile as the decoratively armoured individual stood unblinking in the doorway. There was no sign of amusement on his face, nor the faces of the two royal guards flanking him.

“Μαλάκας!” Byyrah responded, cursing loudly before stamping his spear against the stone covered ground and swimming forward. Shaking his head, he motioned towards the nearly unconscious man held by Namor. “Would you drop him for Poseidon’s sake?” 

Gingerly releasing the man, Namor delivered a swift kick to the groaning Atlantean at his feet one last time before he raised his hands while flashing a quick smirk towards Byyrah. 

“He started it.” 

“I don’t care who γαμημένος started it!” Byyrah snapped at Namor, “You’re not supposed to be down here! Do you have any idea how long I’ve just wasted looking for you?” The armoured Atlantean ranted. 

“You made a real sea of my night! I’ve had both the King and the Princess nearly up my κώλος about your whereabouts, and here you are getting sauced with the urchins!”  A murmur arose from the gathered crowd as Byyrah looked around, nodding his head mockingly as he raised a hand dismissively in response.

“Go back to your drinks, official Crown business.” The royal guard ordered as the collective occupants jeered in response. Standing beside Byyrah, Namor looked around at the other customers before raising an eyebrow as he turned his head towards Byyrah.

“I don’t think they like you very much,” He chuckled as the armoured man exhaled.

“Oh yes, because they love you.” Byyrah replied, “C’mon your highness, let’s go.” 

“At least let me finish my drink,” Namor protested as he turned to head back towards the bar.

“There’s plenty more at the palace,” The other Atlantean stated as he placed a firm hand around Namor’s arm and motioned towards the door. 

“But it’s all so fancy,” Came exasperated reply before Namor continued to complain, “Not superb for getting drunk either and it always leads to absolutely terrible hangovers.” 

“You would know,” The other Atlantean muttered, “C’mon now, big day tomorrow, King Nereus will choose a suitor for Princess Mera, and as you know, princes from all over are coming.” He stated as the pair departed from the tavern. 

“Attendance is required by all members of the royal family, even half-breed bastards.” Byyrah chuckled as Namor groaned obnoxiously.

“Why else did you think I was drinking?” He responded breaking free of Byyrah’s grasp and swimming on his own accord.

“I assumed your general self-loathing washed down with a cesspool of daddy issues and motherly abandonment.” Byyrah retorted with a chuckle of his own as the pair made their way through Tlapallan. 

“You’re a right μαλάκας ever since you put on that armour, y’know that Byyrah.” Laughing as he swam a few feet ahead, Namor turned around, continued to move in the same direction while addressing Byyrah.

“But I have missed you, my friend. You look good in uniform.” He added, “Even if it makes you unbearable.”

“You should really do something about your face,” Byyrah taunted in reply, “It looks like algae has taken up residence on your chin.”

“Oh ha, ha, the half-breed has a beard,” Namor replied, “I cut it off, and it grows back, it gets worse, I have hair every-”

“Forget I said anything,” Byyrah interjected, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I regret every comment that led to this moment.” 

“Huh, for all that armour, I didn’t think you’d be so soft.” Amusement spread across Namor’s face as Byyrah shook his head uncomfortable. “You’re really just a lobster aren’t you, hard shell protecting the soft, succulent meat inside.” 

“Μαλάκας!” Byyrah dryly lamented, “I can’t believe I’m a palace guard and I still have to deal with the town drunk.”

“You wound me,” Namor feigned in response, “I personally prefer to think of myself as the Empire’s greatest drunk.”

“All that alcohol and you still can’t tell the Princess how you truly feel after nearly, how long has it been?” Byyrah asked, talking over Namor before the Prince could respond, 

“Oh right, silly me. You’ve been in love with the King’s daughter since the day you laid eyes on her.”

“Mera and I are close friends. Neither of us wants anything more than that.” Namor replied waving a hand as if to dismiss Byyrah’s notion of romance between himself and the princess.

“I may be the one wearing armour, but you’re the one playing it safe.” Looking down as Byyrah spoke, Namor quickly found an armoured finger stabbing against his bare chest as his friend tried to drive the point home. Pushing the hand aside, Namor spoke again.

“She’s Nereus’ sole heir, and I’m political leverage, I don’t see us having much of a future,” He responded trying to end the conversation.

“So… You weren’t planning on entering the competition tomorrow.” Byyrah asked, a smirk crossing his face beneath the crested helmet.

“Pssh,” Namor replied the water around his mouth bubbling as he dismissed Byyrah’s words. “You know me, they don’t call me measured, and level headed for nothing.” He replied dismissively with a cocky smile, “That said, it is a wonderful idea.”

“Namor, if you’re planning to-”

“Don’t worry about; go finish your shift.” The prince responded as he waved towards Byrrah, “I can see myself to my room from here.”

“Namor if you so much as step foot in the ring-” Byyrah yelled towards the prince as he paused and turned back towards his childhood friend, waving as he replied.

“Night!” 

Shaking his head, Byyrah turned to his patrol as they avoided eye contact with their superior. Seething, the royal guard muttered under his breath as he resumed his nightly patrol.

“I’m going to kill that μαλάκας.”
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