((Invite Only: Exvind posts first, after the intro.))
Within the Hall of Chaos, one of the more secretive and confusing places in Lord Korodin's personal quarters, a meeting was soon to take place. The newest initiate into the Society, a man by name of Exvind, was to be introduced to the high-ranking members of the Society and possibly given a few mission briefings. He would soon be made a useful asset to the Society, and all would go as planned.
Within this Hall, which was actually a pentagonal room, it was much like being in an absinthe induced hallucination. The entire room was devoid of any and all furnishings. Every possible surface was covered in intricate, endlessly moving designs of infinite colors, giving some people the impression that they were falling away into a rainbow abyss. It was hard to stand in this room, but Syrus used it to meditate most of the time. Right now he was standing within it, a smile on his face, his eyes twinkling madly, waiting for Exvind to show up so that the meeting could begin.
Post by Tristan Pendragon on Apr 15, 2006 22:13:47 GMT -5
Admist the chaos which held the room together, the shadows collected, and Exvind stepped out. This Shadow Corridor was rather useful. Now if it were in a very bright area, not so much, but still effective. No crushing sensation, no rush of wind...and as an added bonus, it looked cool. But that aside, a Shadow Corridor opened, and out stepped Exvind, garbed in his usual bandages, cape, and sword. He would not use his false german accent among the Society, fore they knew that it was an act...well, Syrus knew. Convincing, but still an act.
"Ah, Syrus, what calls me here this good evening in such a...well...cant say that the room isn't colorful." Exvind attempted to stand still, and not let his eye leave Syrus, lest he become disoriented and fall to the ground...if there truly was one. "I can see how this room could be used as a mental torture device Syrus...very effective."
"I can see how this room could be used as a mental torture device Syrus...very effective."
"Oh, very effective," said he, smiling darkly in the insane light, "trust me on that one."
Syrus began to pace around the room, tapping the walls here and there at seemingly random locations. His eyes never left Exvind, however, and this was probably a bit unnerving.
"I have called you here today so that you can meet a few friends of mine. They are fellow leaders of the Society, and are important indeed. The Count is busy today, but I'd like to introduce you to the Marquis."
He made a gesture with his hand and the Marquis entered the room through a door which had just appeared in the wall, bowing spectacularly.
"He and I share the post of second-in-command of the Society, and he is an impressive fellow indeed."
The Marquis nodded and smiled, but was silent for now.
Post by Tristan Pendragon on Apr 16, 2006 16:31:06 GMT -5
A very slight smile crossed Exvind's lips, as he relaxed slightly, and turned towards the Marquis...a Nosferatu. That was an interesting sight in and of itself...but a Nosferatu collaberating with humans? That was just plain nutty...then again, it WAS the Hall of Chaos. For all Exvind knew, in this room, 2+2 could equal fish.
"Ah, Marquis, it is an honor to meet you. I am Exvind...or as Syrus and assorted other like to call me, the Enigmatic Man." The bandaged man spoke humbly, and bowed at the waist while facing the Marquis. Though inside, he was slightly unnerrved. The last time he had met a Nosferatu, it ended with at most 5 liters of blood being spilled. Though when on peaceful terms, they could have some very intellectual conversations.
Syrus nodded to the both of them and flashed a bright smile. He stopped pacing about the room and instead directed his attention at Exvind, his eyes twinkling maliciously.
"It is distressing, Exvind, the trouble you have put me through. Within the last two days I have had to place seventeen thousand new enchantments on Diadem. Can you believe that? Seventeen thousand. Of course, with a staff as big as we have it wasn't that much of a problem. But you see, we had to make the building traitor-proof. There are a few special charms of my invention that have been put into place everywhere except this one small room."
He chuckled darkly, and nodded to the Marquis.
"Well, not anymore. I sealed this room off as soon as the Marquis entered. Don't bother trying to escape. Diadem fortress is now complete. There is no way to enter or leave the building except through the main entrance. There is no way to enter or leave this room, Exvind, except through this door," said Syrus, pointing at the door. He snapped his fingers once and the door disappeared, trapping the three men inside the Hall of Chaos. Syrus turned back to Exvind, his face an emotionless mask, looking as though it was cut from stone.
"So tell me, Tristan Pendragon, what your business is in the Society of Shadows."bg
Post by Tristan Pendragon on Apr 16, 2006 17:39:46 GMT -5
A calm smile formed on Tristan's face, as he closed his visible eye, and opened it as its unusual amber color. There was also some amusement in his voice when he spoke. As he did so, he removed the bandages on his head in one fell swoop. "Well well well...aren't we the clever one? Before I answer you Syrus, what gave it away? Was it the accent? The false color tone of my visible skin? Or were there eyes and ears undetectable by magic or common sense."
His form was hunched as he spoke, almost as if he was hit in the gut, but he brought his arm from behind his back, holding his sword at the ready. Well, things had gone from doubtful to hell very quickly. Tristan assessed the odds in his mind. Lets see...me, vs. an insane wizard, a powerful Nosferatu in a room which the wizard controls and can disorient and confuse someone so very easily...well then, I am screwed on levels beyond comprehension. Damn.
The Marquis had entered the room on cue but from the start seemed unnaturally resentful, as though enduring a triviality that was prolonging something inevitable, something he felt he would enjoy immensely. His features were vaguely irritable, but his countenance also bore a cold distance that did not allow an all too revealing glimpse of his emotions.
"Ah, Marquis, it is an honor to meet you. I am Exvind...or as Syrus and assorted other like to call me, the Enigmatic Man."
The Marquis' lip quivered with disgust, as though he were being addressed so cordially by an insect he found particularly vile.
"What a distinct pleasure, I am sure, 'Exvind.' Zee enz-susiasm of our meeting overwhelms me." Clearly his accent was French, though it bore something of a sinister undertone not of any nationality in particular that one could bring to mind. "I am afraid zat I am not 'ere for idle chat, 'owever. Monsieur Korodin, please continue."
The Marquis leaned effeminitely against a wall, showing a very French side of himself indeed. His legs were crossed in the typically elegant fashion becoming of the French and he encumbered a somewhat prideful stance as he glared coldly at Exvind. Those cold, icy blue eyes... Why, with the smooth, long blonde hair flowing behind him, albeit in a graceful ponytail, he might pass of as... well... perhaps not so contemptible... But nonetheless, it was something one could not sway himself from contemplating with a healthfully open, and fearful, mind.
For a moment, one that felt drawn out into eternity, Exvind and the Marquis Rousseau exchanged glances as the room about them gave the illusion that, standing still in time, they were moving violently nonetheless through an abyss untouched by the outside world - they knew nothing but each other's stare. Syrus' voice broke the silence seconds into the bizarre experience, though after what felt like an age.bg
Last Edit: Apr 16, 2006 17:47:23 GMT -5 by rousseau
"Well well well...aren't we the clever one? Before I answer you Syrus, what gave it away? Was it the accent? The false color tone of my visible skin? Or were there eyes and ears undetectable by magic or common sense."
A spark flashed from his eyes as he watched Tristan bring his sword out from behind his back and brandish it in a distinctly threatening manner. In return, Syrus unsheathed his own sword, the Dondarrion, and pointed it at his newfound foe.
"Telling you how I found out would ruin all the fun, wouldn't it? What matters is that I know, the Marquis, knows, and the Count knows. The Society is in lockdown, and at any moment I can bring that door back and summon several hundred wizards to come in here and beat you to death with sticks."
Syrus laughed, the sound echoing off the crazy walls as the Marquis joined in.
"What matters now, Tristan, is that you will probably die in this room. Your sword is a lovely thing, but no match against the two of us. And either way, if you attack us you die. You made an unbreakable vow with me, Tristan, remember that. You're left with limited options."bg
The Marquis remained silent throughout the whole sequence of events that unfurled. He gazed at the arrogant fool who probably possessed not an inkling of any idea as to what was about to occur if he could lay his hands on him. He was patient, though. He had been given direct orders...
He made the attempt at sound only when his cynical sense of humor caused him to join Syrus in sinister laughter.
"What matters now, Tristan, is that you will probably die in this room. Your sword is a lovely thing, but no match against the two of us. And either way, if you attack us you die. You made an unbreakable vow with me, Tristan, remember that. You're left with limited options."
"Indeed, mon ami - ah, comrade," chortled the Marquis, giving a wink at his old friend, "It seems zat zeh rat 'as been cornered."
Finally retiring from his reclined position, he began to circle the stand-off-ish individual for whom he had instantly fostered disdain the moment he met him. A long, slender tongue licked a set of voluptuous lips slowly, deliberately as he made his rounds.
"But, of course, zeh cat is not too willing to end zeh chase wizout a bit of entertainment to embellish 'is triumph."
A rather deviant smile found its way on the Marquis' face, permitting an expression of the utmost decadence.
Last Edit: Apr 16, 2006 18:41:25 GMT -5 by rousseau
Post by Tristan Pendragon on Apr 16, 2006 19:09:36 GMT -5
((Pardon me gents, but though it may seem like GMing, or just being an arse, this manuver has been approved by Talon and thus legal.))
At that moment, Tristan did the one thing that nobody would expect...actually, any one who did in that situation would have to be either insane, or genius. He laughed. Tristan began to laugh, almost madly along with the two probable murderers. He even slumped slightly, and quite nearly lost his breath while laughing before regaining his composure, and wiping a tear from his eye.
"Syrus, though our time together has been short, I have to say, you have the best, demented, sense of humor and taste in wines. I'll miss you slightly, as I will your constant epigrams and obiter dictums. And Marquis, before I leave you, the very very short time I've known YOU, I simply must admit......................that I've always hated the French."
As he finished his soliloquy, he leapt back until he hit a wall, before he yelled loudly. "I, Exvind, renounce the Society of Shadows, and announce my alligence to Talon Windwaltz, who happens to be my best friend in the entire world, and Count Robinson Scorpius can go eat Dungbombs! Amen, to Hell with the Sodalitus a Umbras!" And thus, the Vow was broken.
What occured next rarely occurs, for all know the consequences: Death. From his arm, a flaming serpent rose, and began to encircled Tristan, who screamed in pain as the flames baked him, before the serpent finally let out a roar, and shot into Tristan's body, which slumped to the ground, completely motionless and silent.
"Oye....that's a fucker if I've ever been through one....Well Syrus...there's a loophole with that Vow...Exvind made it...two minds, one body....damn that hurt, but at least the incarnation of my sins is gone......so long Syrus....Marquis........Exvind is dead now..........but Tristan Pendragon lives." As quickly as he could, though slower than average, he plunged the tip of his blade into the wall behind him, and yelled, "LORD, CLENSE MY SOUL AND LEAD ME TO SAFETY!"
Though he had never attempted this before, it was the only way out of this Hell. Behind him, from the blade implanted in the wall, opened a portal which shone with a grayish light, into which Tristan Pendragon slipped. It was another torture, but similar to a clensing fire. He had entered Purgatory. The ream before Heaven. After he went through, the portal back to the mortal realm sealed, leaving him in an empty void of pain.
Pain shot through Tristan's body, like a searing flame at every inch. What was left of his fatigue was nearly destroyed, and at this rate, he would die. Mortals were not ment to have their bodies in this realm, so time was of the essence....well, there was no time here, but at least he was safe. Very shakily, he grasped his sword, which was floating next to him, and whispered, "...by cleansing fire....send me back......Amen..."
Post by Tristan Pendragon on Apr 16, 2006 19:25:12 GMT -5
((No, He wants me to live, and thus, I searched for the only remotely plausible loophole. If he had not intended on my living, I would have accepted my death. Terribly Sorry.))
Post by Tristan Pendragon on Apr 16, 2006 19:39:00 GMT -5
(And I was hoping to see a bit of you, but I was disappointed as well. So it seems we all lose. My apologies once more Society. Best of luck, and Evilyn, dont worry...there will be without a doubt an epic duel between Syrus and I in the future.)
Teagan Offline: This board is full of nostalgia.
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