Post by amaliel on Mar 26, 2008 21:35:38 GMT -5
ooc: This occurs right as the Shadows attack on the ministry gets into full-swing.
Though Raven’s coffee shop had been unmolested thus far in all the ruckus going on outside, other than a large increase in traffic from those who felt that the best possible shelter at this moment in time was to have a roof over one’s head and pray that this roof was not the one picked for a random blasting charm. Of course, it was probably unlikely that the shop would have been directly attacked. After all, Raven did have some connections with the count.
Of course, Azrael was not the count. Every building needed to be secured to make sure no pocket of resistance got overlooked. It was the master’s decree and his will was absolute. The door to the coffee shop burst open in a spray of splinters and wood shards. The last one in had foolishly decided to lock the door, which was, of course, a very clear attempt to resist the will of Azrael.
As the door burst open, a robed undead stepped foreword, one with eyes that glowed with some intellect instead of the blank mindless stare of all those around it. As it crossed the threshold of the shop, a spell shot out of the huddled crowd of people gathered. The jet of green light struck the greater inferi to no effect whatsoever. If the undead could show emotion, it would have looked amused as it turned to address those within in an unnatural rasping voice. “Why would anyone expect a killing curse to ever work on an undead?” it asked. Making a vague gesture, undead began filling into the main room of the coffee house. The trapped citizens began drawing wands, some looking for escape routes that they might escape through.
At that moment, the sound of Sandalphon speaking with Azrael’s greatly magnified voice could be heard through the ruined doorway: “All shall submit to the will of the Angelus Morti! All who surrender shall live, all those who oppose us shall perish!”
Some of those who had been about to fight lowered their wands in submission. At this, others also began lowering their wands, though not pocketing them, in mistrust that the undead horde would actually keep it’s word. Silently, the undead troops began herding those civilians towards a storeroom, where they would most likely be safe and, more importantly, easily accounted for. Building secured, the inferi within the building all raised above their heads whatever weapon or object they currently had in hand.
“HAIL AZRAEL LORD AND MASTER! THE ANGEL OF DEATH! THE ANGEL THAT GIVES US LIFE!"
Though Raven’s coffee shop had been unmolested thus far in all the ruckus going on outside, other than a large increase in traffic from those who felt that the best possible shelter at this moment in time was to have a roof over one’s head and pray that this roof was not the one picked for a random blasting charm. Of course, it was probably unlikely that the shop would have been directly attacked. After all, Raven did have some connections with the count.
Of course, Azrael was not the count. Every building needed to be secured to make sure no pocket of resistance got overlooked. It was the master’s decree and his will was absolute. The door to the coffee shop burst open in a spray of splinters and wood shards. The last one in had foolishly decided to lock the door, which was, of course, a very clear attempt to resist the will of Azrael.
As the door burst open, a robed undead stepped foreword, one with eyes that glowed with some intellect instead of the blank mindless stare of all those around it. As it crossed the threshold of the shop, a spell shot out of the huddled crowd of people gathered. The jet of green light struck the greater inferi to no effect whatsoever. If the undead could show emotion, it would have looked amused as it turned to address those within in an unnatural rasping voice. “Why would anyone expect a killing curse to ever work on an undead?” it asked. Making a vague gesture, undead began filling into the main room of the coffee house. The trapped citizens began drawing wands, some looking for escape routes that they might escape through.
At that moment, the sound of Sandalphon speaking with Azrael’s greatly magnified voice could be heard through the ruined doorway: “All shall submit to the will of the Angelus Morti! All who surrender shall live, all those who oppose us shall perish!”
Some of those who had been about to fight lowered their wands in submission. At this, others also began lowering their wands, though not pocketing them, in mistrust that the undead horde would actually keep it’s word. Silently, the undead troops began herding those civilians towards a storeroom, where they would most likely be safe and, more importantly, easily accounted for. Building secured, the inferi within the building all raised above their heads whatever weapon or object they currently had in hand.
“HAIL AZRAEL LORD AND MASTER! THE ANGEL OF DEATH! THE ANGEL THAT GIVES US LIFE!"