Post by The Master Tactician on May 27, 2013 21:53:06 GMT -5
The Grand General's withered hand tightened around his cane as his men exchanged words. Here, their clash of egos was readily apparent. "SILENCE," he snapped. His shrunken form seemed to radiate grim energy and, despite being barely more than half the mass of either man, to tower over them with seething admonition. "This is NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR BLASTED PRIDE--EITHER OF YOU!" the Master Tactician roared. Even the stoic Raedsel posted around the room's perimeter seemed to quake in their boots as his voice echoed through the chamber.
"This is about your fucking country and its preservation and security! HOW DARE YOU CHALLENGE THAT FOR A BATTLE OF WILLS!" The hall shook beneath their feet. Whatever light the torches in the room cast was gradually extinguished as Swain's voice grew more ominous. Crimson eyes seemed set aflame by the general's rage, piercing through the gloom that now encroached. "How DARE you jeopardize Noxus by undermining one another.
"If I cannot count on you to work together for the good of your country..." The withered man's visage seemed to twist before the pair into something dark, inhuman, full of dangerous dominion. His voice changed with it, a growl so furious, so fierce, it shook those present to the core:
Post by Andre Bleakwood on May 28, 2013 0:33:44 GMT -5
Andre was afraid. He wasn't some stuck up sap who thought he didn't fear death. Death was something Andre feared, but it wasn't something he feared as much as being useless for his country. Urgot was MAKING him useless.
He coldly went to a trembling Raedsel guardsman and yanked his longsword from his sheathe and without a second glance went back to where he stood before.
"I do still think myself useful. Urgot has been a pain in my ass and his removal from my ranks would make this duty much simpler. However, if you think I am not useful to my country, general..." Andre flipped the longsword in his hand and placed the point on his own heart. "Then say the word and I will no longer burden my country."
Andre gave Swain a cold look that would make most Zaunite machinery appear to have emotions. "Your orders, sir?"
Post by The Master Tactician on May 28, 2013 21:08:21 GMT -5
A flash of blazing fury from the Master Tactician's eyes illuminated the chamber. With a wave of his gnarled hand, a green ray of energy encompassed the sword in Andre's hands, contrasting sharply with the crimson of Swain's eyes. "Don't be stupid," he growled, teeth grit behind his shroud. In a harsh somatic motion, he sliced the air. The sword ripped backwards from general Bleakwood's grip, slicing through the flesh between his thumb and forefinger--not enough to incapacitate the man, but enough to sting, enough to draw blood.
"How would losing a high commander benefit Noxus in any way." The blade clattered to the stone floor at the feet of its Raedsel owner. With a twist of bony fingers, the green aura around it retracted back into the Grand General's hand. The guard dared not bend to retrieve his weapon without command. Swain then turned his blazing gaze upon Urgot, full of admonishing rage. "And as for you."
The Master Tactician stood straight, rising from the support of the desk to lean over his cane. "You have been graciously gifted the support of Bleakwood's drill sergeants and lieutenants to train your own forces." Cane, step, step, the general paced before the pair, his aura ever-fearsome. He came to stand just before The Headsman's Pride, his withered face twitching with barely contained fury. Gnarled hands folded over the head of his cane; at his shoulder, his hellish Raven puffed out her chest.
"Tell me. What would you do with half-trained men? With a brigade of convicts and criminals?" Swain's gaze fixed upon Urgot's. "Allow through every MOTHERFUCKING ASSAILANT WHO ATTEMPTS TO SCALE OUR BARRIER?! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WE ARE ERECTING THIS WALL!"[/size][/color] His form seemed to loom above the accused, imagined black wings of fury unfurling from his back. His voice rang in both their heads, worse than the material of night terrors, worse than the cries of comrades under fire. They would be nothing if they could not rectify their mistakes, remembered for their failure to their country: the greatest fear of any Noxian.
The Grand General shook his head, the slight sweat of his frustration glistening at his receding hairline. When he spoke again he was no longer yelling, but the quietly ominous tone of his voice seemed somehow more foreboding. "I fucking gave you unlife, Alexander Urgot, and you are no longer a champion of the League. I can just as easily take it away."
He took a crooked step backwards, chin lifted in dignity, addressing them both: "If you disappoint me again, so help us all."
Post by The Headsman's Pride on May 29, 2013 14:06:58 GMT -5
The shambling, undead monstrosity seemed to flinch back ever so sightly at Swain's words. No living man had ever instilled fear on Urgot... but he was not sure wether the general was a man or not - at the very least he had been one at one point, but it was impossible to tell right now.
His voice echoed out of his respirator, tamer and less intimidating than usual. I apologize, general. Further failure from any man stationed within will be avoided at all costs. An bleached, soulless eye turned its pupil towards Andre, sending a chilling gaze that seemed to go straight through him. Any man.
Post by Andre Bleakwood on May 31, 2013 20:53:41 GMT -5
Andre went to attention upon being relieved of the weapon. He returned Urgot's glare with one of his own.
"I don't see a reason to continue working with someone who actively undermines my authority, sir. He does not want my aid, so why should I give it to him if it is only going to be spat in my face? I can't remove him or punish him as I would any other soldier as he is undead and YOUR selection for commanding the Wall. He does not listen to orders and you want him to work with me? I don't tolerate insubordination in any form within my ranks. It weakens the line.
Sir, his assignment to the Wall is the ONE decision you have made that I disagree with."
Post by The Master Tactician on May 31, 2013 23:39:39 GMT -5
"How can I make this more clear," said Swain coldly. He lifted his chin in dignity, but as his visage returned to normal, his jaw clenched behind his shroud, his shrunken shoulders began to shake with the apparent exertion of his disciplinary outburst. A trembling hand swept his hairline to smooth any accumulated sweat into his thinning hair, then returned it to its place atop his cane. "If either of you fail me again, I will reduce you both to a pile of ash."
His stare, so full of grim purpose, pierced through both his men. "I do not want to hear another word about disrespect," he shot at Urgot, " or prideful stupidity," he said, looking pointedly at Bleakwood. "This is a permanent garrison. I cannot afford to station your people here forever. We will need them elsewhere before long--and pardoned criminals MUST be trained by experienced hands." He paused, shut his eyes, drew in a deep, belabored breath. The Master Tactician's pallor had gone the color of ash.
"Do not make me repeat myself," he croaked, referencing his previous call to set aside pride and work together for the country's best interest. Crimson eyes sprang open, shining with fury--and betraying a glint of physical exhaustion. "I very much dislike... repeating myself." His growl was low now: still warning, still harsh, but spoken as though its very utterance were an effort. He furrowed a brow and lowered his head, one skeletal hand splayed over his golden breastplate, over his heart.
Post by The Headsman's Pride on Jun 2, 2013 7:43:12 GMT -5
Urgot glared at Andre one last time, somehow resisting his urges to mutilate him on the spot. He held his gaze for a few seconds before looking back at the Grand General.
You will not be disappointed, General. Anything else?
Post by The Master Tactician on Jun 2, 2013 13:37:38 GMT -5
With a deep breath, the Grand General steadied himself and began issuing his final orders: "You will get summoners established on the wall by no later than the week's end. I will send them behind me," Swain growled to Bleakwood. "And you will do as Bleakwood commands until your forces are fully trained and his removed from The Wall," he said, turning his luminous gaze upon Urgot.
With a jerk of his half-shorn head, he motioned to the eight Raedsel to follow him as he prepared to depart for Noxus proper again. "Forever strong."
Welcome to Maelstrom, Original Characters, Summoners and Champions alike. We are a divergent setting roleplay forum for the ever-popular MOBA by Riot, League of Legends. This means we are based in Riot canon, but your characters' actions can have a real, lasting impact on the world. Together, the Maelstrom community endeavors to bring the League of Legends setting and characters to life through collaborative storytelling and meaningful development. We welcome you along for the ride.
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