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Old February 23, 2011, 10:02 PM   #31
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oocWell this is embarrassing. Let’s get this wrapped up?

Miyuki, Inferius

As Miyuki began to sing, the Ghost turned to look at her quizzically. It shook its head viciously. It put its hands over its ears and began to yell. ”SILENCE!” And the anger within it continued to grow until Infireus began to speak again. Quickly, Je’kartha turned on him, a scowl etched into his ethereal features.

The bargain the Moraden Dracon was driving gave the ghost pause. For a moment, it froze in place and a hand from its ears went to its chin.

”Dance with the devil and have at it then,” Replied the ghost, ”You offer me something I could not achieve on my own. The ability to actually act out this justice in some semblance of a physical body. Intriguing.”

With a coy look on his face, the ghost swirled higher to look back at Raymond and Miyuki. First, he addressed the adjurator: ”And what do you think of that, Adjurator?” He sneered. Raymond reached for Infireus’ shoulder to jerk him away from the circle and prevent him from letting the ghost free.

”You can’t be serious!” He cried in alarm, ”You plan to kill the Priests of Ioannes?!” His hand gripped Infireus tightly and yanked him backwards, but the tip of his sword swung through the salt and broke the circle. In an instant, the ghost with his foreign name spoken in the tongue of the Dead swirled out, past the salted enclosure and dove straight for the arm of the “seemingly” human male in front of him.

Infireus’ arm felt like it was being plunged straight into the pit of a campfire that was still very much active with the flames that danced upon the wood it consumed. His grip tightened unwillingly on his longsword and the burning sensation rose up his arm until it touched the crux on his neck. His ears felt like they were getting warm, and possibly turning red.

A voice at the back of his mind whispered. ”Let justice be done, then.” And the Dracon was filled with a foreign rage, as if the now dead ghost’s own anger was filling his very soul.


The sword dropped like a sack of sand and slipped silently through her throat.

A sickening thud of the now decapitated skull crashed to the ground and cheers erupted from the fifteen surrounding them, fists pumping in the air as others screamed praise to Ioannes and how justice had been done. The man in the center removed his hood and dropped it to the ground before slicing open the woman’s belly and removing the unborn child, breathing it back into the world in the most unwilling and unnatural way a child had probably ever been born.

”May Ioannes’ judgment be swift on this pagan woman.” Announced the leader in the center, ”And may he see fit to return this spawn of Jorel to whence it came!”

Shouts of agreement joined in. Shiro was shrouded in the shadows of a giant statue reflecting the three faces of Ioannes. One hand held a pair of scales and the god’s face that was right above that arm was wrapped in a blindfold. If justice was blind, this was a sickening interpretation of it.

”There are three more women we must capture. Go now, my brothers and sisters, and find them. I will remove the body.”

”What of the ghosts?” A feminine voice asked, to which the man in the center of the amphitheater responded, ”They will dissipate when all of Jorel’s mortal progeny have been slain.” More cheers erupted. Men and women began to make their way down towards the bottom of the ampitheater and exit through a central door on the opposite side of the room, directly behind the executioner. Presumably this was being done to avoid bringing the stench of the freshly dead up towards the central place of worship. It wasn’t good for business, after all.

As they trickled out, Peter drew a sword from his sheath and looked from Shiro to Egon. ”I’ll show you justice.” He muttered, and stepped out into the light.

”You sick dog,” Spat the adjurator, ”Murdering innocent women because of some ridiculous, fabricated thoughts you have concocted in that poisoned skull of yours? Is this how you get your jollies? You must really like Jorel despite trying to “rid the world of his spawn”, eh?”

Egon shook his head and put it in his hands.

The man in the center of the room looked up curiously and then laid the child down on top of the table where the recently dead mother was still dripping blood onto the floor and onto his boots.

”It seems you have lost your way,” Replied the executioner stoically, ”Luckily, repentance for such grave misjudgments is easily obtained. Do not allow Meephos to control your soul.”

And this time it was Egon who added, ”It was not her time to go, you crazed fool! Murderer!”

Approaching slowly, the executioner held the sword out in his left hand, the point barely clearing the steps. His right hand was also held out, palm up, and he approached the trio – but hadn’t noticed Shiro yet – with a sickening calm.

”Perhaps it is time for you to stand judgment as well then, my friends.” He stated sadly…
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Old February 24, 2011, 01:49 AM   #32
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Infireus had been seeking power in all its forms for some time, however perhaps he was unprepared as of yet to receive that which he sort. His free hand gripped the wrist of the arm that turned him away tightly as his own anger flared up at being interrupted. It was an anger however that was quickly replaced by someone else's as he realized just what Raymond had caused him to do prematurely.
"Argh! shouted Infireus, as his free hand dropped from Raymond's to clutch at his other. The familiar pain of raw fire raced up his arm to his head causing his vision to blur and his legs to momentarily lose their strength. Even so he didn't let go of his sword, or more precisely he could not, and as he realized that he was no longer alone inside his head he also fully felt the rage consume him once again.

"Out of the way"

As Infireus stood up he said these words quietly to Raymond before turning away from them and attempting to go back down the hall towards the main part of the chapel.
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Old February 24, 2011, 11:54 AM   #33
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oocSure, Trinity. Thanks for taking it up again.

Miyuki didn't like the way the situation was turning out to be. On one hand, Infireus had willingly drawn the wrath of the spirit in his direction, and it appeared that the spirit had cause to have its vengeance against the Priests of Ioannes. But in her heart, she knew that a wrong never corrects a wrong, and she was not willing to cross swords with someone who had just helped to save her life and soul.

The path Infireus had taken is his own, and yet she felt sad for him. Yielding to the situation, she let him go off his way, as she stopped singing, knelt down on her knees, and prayed to Ioannes, Diana and Aslan in the silence of her mind and soul, "Sacred Three, by my own will, I am powerless to prevent further desecration to your holy sanctuary. I ask for your mercy and guidance, in the face of great adversity, what should I do."

She prayed in earnest, with no way of her own in banishing a powerful spirit, and hoped that in Ioannes' divine sanctuary in Narim, the Sacred Three, especially the Queen Mother herself, could show her a way to serve their will.
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Quotes: "Kakita the Laurylian slayer" - Eyvind Redbeard, after Miyuki did the final strike here.
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Old April 8, 2011, 11:21 AM   #34
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The boy watched the devotees disappear like running water at the order of their headmaster, equally frightened and inspired by the idea of their divine calling. They ran like the little sheep they were, disgusted and fascinated with the sound of their shepherd’s voice. They thought somehow that they were soldiers in the great battle of good versus evil, bringing order to a land of chaos. How little they knew. How little did they understand. Aetheria was no different than Aeternia; both pantheons, light and dark, would, in their time of greatest need, use their mortal charges to whatever purpose or aim they decided and then discard them when it became inconvenient…

…like now. They were inconvenient, this lot of unwary and unsuspecting Ioannes-worshippers caught in some murderous scheme to rid the city of Jorelites. It was the height of human stupidity and pride to think that the gods needed mortals to carry out their bidding. They were just mindless puppets serving the gods’ own laziness and would be thrown away at the slightest difficulty, their lives forfeit to a purpose they wouldn’t be made privy to and could never understand. They were chaff, and they didn’t even know what the wheat truly was.

And this brightening, that stupidity would be their death.

For now, though, Shiro was content to let the smaller targets go and focus his attention on their leader. People were like that; cut off the head and the rest of the body would fall into pieces. His hand clenched a bit more tightly on the hilt of his sword as his weight shifted forward over his toes, prepared to pounce. Aquamarine eyes squinted in the relative darkness of the underground to make out every detail they could of the worshipper’s being – weapons, size, height, depth into the room, or any possible hidden resource. Shiro was not inclined to be surprised.

His self-appointed partners, though, seemingly had other ideas. Surprise wrote itself across the boy’s face as Egon and Peter moved out of the shadows and started spouting ideologies back and forth to the disciple, yelling something about right and wrong. Shiro sighed. This would be made just that more difficult by their lack of foresight, but the end would still come. He would see to that.

Utilizing the other two’s intrusion as his needed distraction, the half-Kemite kept to the shadows and crept his way as close as he could get to the sword-wielding executioner, keeping his own katana close at hand. His footfalls were light with his weight centered over his toes and his face alert, watching every move the elder man made toward Peter and Egon and, hopefully, away from Shiro. Once comfortably out of the devotee’s view, Shiro wound up his body and, with one quick motion, lunged forward, tip of his blade extended out and cutting through the air toward the executioner’s back, just above the waist.

A jab wasn’t enough to ensure the finality of death. Once the blade was secured in the man’s flesh, a slight turn of his wrist and a quick pull upwards would tear apart flesh and organ, making the wound inescapably large and, hopefully, fatal. There could be no room for mistakes.
Unless I grip the sword, I cannot protect you.
While gripping the sword, I cannot embrace you.


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Old May 7, 2012, 02:04 PM   #35
Kakita Miyuki
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Quotes: "Kakita the Laurylian slayer" - Eyvind Redbeard, after Miyuki did the final strike here.
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