Azazel remained silent as King's demands and Jarvan's speech were made. Smirking beneath his hood at the tension in the air. One false move and everything could simply fall apart and all the progress to get them here wasted. The Dark Summoner-knight sighed as Marabelle went to plea her case to the Ruined King, she really was a pathetic creature. So hellbent on getting these two to work together, she couldn't see that would never happen, love clouded her mind and filled it with stupidity. In all honesty, Azazel he could just kill the naive girl and make both sides a better place to deal with. But... She was a needed pawn in his game.
While all the attention was focused else where, Azazel tightened his grip upon the chain that was secured around Marabelle's neck, time to put his plans into motion. He glanced over his shoulder at Hecarim making sure he was ahead of the centaur, "This game will be MUCH more interesting than my last." Without skipping a beat Azazel hauled upon the chain with enough force to rip Marabelle off balance and back toward him, a fluid almost practiced motion came next, his right foot shot out to slam into the back of her knee dropping her down onto one knee followed by his right hand that clenched chain swinging around her head, wrapping the chain around her neck once more and pulling tight as he yanked upwards effectively cutting off the petite woman's air supply. His left hand then snapped to the side of her head, his fingers positioned next to her temple as his cyan eyes glanced around.
A sadistic grin showed upon his face as he now held the princess' life in his hands, even as he held the sick grin, his voice was cold and detached from emotion, no doubt his stunt would have everyone's attention. If he had a beating heart, it would no doubt be racing as he had just betrayed the Ruing King himself in full view of both the Institute of War and Demacia.
"Ruined King, Prince Jarvan and... You." He glanced at the summoner before slowly moving away from the group in order to keep Hecarim in view too, "Anyone speaks, the princess dies. Anyone moves, the princess dies." As Azazel backed away he made sure to keep Marabelle tight against himself, the chain making it nearly impossible for her to breath. All it would take was a simple charge of magic shot from his fingers into her temple and she would be dead. Simple as that. He kept his reasoning to himself, he had no need to share with these people why he was openly betraying the Shadow Isles themselves.
Post by Exemplar of Demacia on Sept 4, 2013 0:30:47 GMT -5
Jarvan IV clutched his spear in a white knuckled grip, fear, anger, shame, they all filled him. He had struck a deal with a demon, surely he had expected this. But no, not this, not the look on her face, in her eyes, struggling for breath. Not the paralyzing fear. She was choking before him, her life held at ransom. He knew that it was for show, but was it?
His face was a mask of determination, and it trembled with rage. A bargain for betrayal was what he had made, and how he feared he would share in that betrayal.
Could he really trust in this creature before him, full of malice? His eyes, when all else did, they didn't lie. Azazel held love in his hands, easily crushed, and enjoyed every moment. Jarvan felt he could see that joy, hidden in the coldness of the Azazel's voice. Jarvan couldn't keep from staring fiery hatred back into those Azure eyes, pact or none. He fought the rising tension in his mind and a sudden fear struck him. What if one of the others moved? They too held her life in their hands.
Jarvan tried to shelter himself with the knowledge of Azazel's promise, but it was a sheer veil. Maybe that was just as well, that the deceit of the Ruined King show in Jarvans face as well, and appear complete to all present. Jarvan worked that thought back and forth in his mind, letting himself embrace his anger at Fiora's plight. It was a smart move, a truth to hide a lie, but Jarvan hated him all the more for it.
He remembered his orders to Xin, who commanded the princes complete faith, but still he slowly moved his hand to motion Xin to stand down. His eyes flashed between the other parties, gauging their reactions, and clutched at his spear and to his silence with a mad will.
Post by Marabelle De'Vera Lightshield on Sept 4, 2013 12:32:27 GMT -5
A breath. A beat.
Her body moved so easily with the strength of Azazel's pull, forcing her backward away from TRK to be held hostage all the more by the menacing grip upon her binds. The world shifted around her slightly at first.. She wanted to fight, until she felt her knee collapse forward and her form drop down. The chains wrapped about her throat caused her to let out a startled, desperate cry with fear rising rapidly within her. What was he doing!?
"No--" Cut off as the air was locked away from her. Her cheeks reddened as she gasped and choked, reaching her hands up to try to pull the chain away from her neck. But she couldn't. Belle was simply too weak to fight such a powerful monster. The terror in her teal eyes was all the more apparent as she met Jarvan's gaze. She had warned him something was wrong. She knew Azazel was not to be bargained with. Did he really agree to this? The desperate look turned into one of deep sorrow at the thought that her husband might have actually accepted the terms. She wanted so much for peace between the two in hopes of protecting Demacia from not only the Isles, but other potential threats.
Were all her sacrifices in vain?
She hadn't registered that his fingers were pressed against her temple until they started to move. Belle tried to keep with the pace, but she was more drug about then willingly moving with the undead Summoner. If she could talk, it was clear she'd be pleading with both Jarvan and TRK not to act rash. To work together, and try to sort things out. Azazel was his own pawn in a much broader scheme, and she knew this had to be an attempt to sabotage any chance of the two nations working together.
In retaliation, Belle did the unexpected.
Her hands snaked back trying to wrap her arms around his knees in hopes of locking him down and tripping him up. If she died here, she didn't care. This was for peace. Nothing else mattered but the security of her husband and her home; Demacia. One life constitutes the saving of millions, and nothing was going to stop her from trying to keep everyone safe.
Post by Kiersta Mandrake on Sept 6, 2013 0:18:03 GMT -5
The dark summoner’s spring to action caught her off guard. An attack from one party to the next she had expected, but for for the hostage to be the target... her hand motioned toward the ground when she saw the chains cinch around the princess’s neck. No power flowed from her as she crossed her arms before her chest, nothing more than an indication of the situation gone awry. Her eyes flicked momentarily to the Ruined King even as Azazel made his demands. Powerful maybe, but what king would prompt such betrayal and ruination upon himself twice over? And yet if he killed the girl, he sacrificed himself to the combined rage of the Ruined King, Demacia, and the Summoners alike. She broke the silence with the flat ringing of her voice, “I said no hostility, Mage.”
In the depths of the Institute’s ship, twenty summoners shifted their chant. All those standing upon the ice would would feel the air shudder as the mana slipped from their grasp. Kiersta took a step forward with the change, trusting the Shadow of War to take the advantage of the distraction as the mage walked right past him: why should the Centaur care about the Demacian princess over the betrayal of his king?
Post by The Ruined King on Sept 18, 2013 7:39:24 GMT -5
The movements behind him made the King pause, a his brow knitting together into a frown behind his mask. With a growl he turned in time to see Marabell kicked to her knees, his fists clenched, black fire ignited around his fist as he restrained himself from ripping Azazel limb from limb. If he moved, he knew Azazel would make good on his word and kill the mortal woman. Fury raged within the Ruined King, how dare Azazel betray him?! After all the power The King had placed before Azazel, after the King pulled him from Deaths grasp and allowed him another chance. His eyes flared brightly, the cyan spirit fire raging like an inferno, the cold gaze filled with hatred bore into the undead Summoner.
With the Demacian and Summoners behind him, the king was vulnerable to a surprise attack should anyone dare attempt it. It would be unlikely that they would ever get a chance like this again, would they risk the death of the Princess for a shot at the him? The Ruined King cared not, his mind was racing, trying to think of a way to remove Azazel without killing the princess, he felt the mana slipping away, rage burning like an inferno behind the metal helm. Even without Magic, Azazel was more than capable of killing Marabelle with his bare hands. The finger at her temple could be shoved forward into her skull, the chain around her neck tightened to snap the spinal cord. He knew Azazel would feel the mana leaving him, the king turned and shot a cold glare over his shoulder toward the summoner who was supposed to be keeping this from erupting into an all out brawl,
"What are you doing summoner?!" his voice roared like thunder across the ice island, a hint of desperation in his voice. There were few the King had ever bonded with, Marabelle being one of those few. His voice took on a quieter more sinister tone as he threatened her, "If Marabelle dies, YOU die too. This, I promise you. That goes for anyone who causes her death. I will end any of you."
He turned back to face the dark summoner and Belle, restraining himself from doing anything that would endanger her.
I am the one who defied death. I am the one he fears. I am the on he can not take. One sweep of my hand and your nations will fall. Come for me you worms. You will all bow before my legions or be broken beneath us as we march upon your cities.
Post by The Shadow of War on Sept 20, 2013 5:07:02 GMT -5
The centaur was in a rage, to pitifully describe it. After all this time with Marabelle spent on their island, all the headaches she had caused him during her stay because of the way she affected the king. These foolish peace talks she had planned with him, and now Azazel was ruining them, twice now he had meddled in what was supposed to be simple and now it was costing not only the Islanders but the Demacians AND the summoners, he was fed up with his actions and would act as he promised at the site of the invasion: By taking the gift of undeath away from him slowly and painfully.
He turned to face him with his eyes blazing bright cyan spirit-fire, if he was paying attention he would know he had just made his final mistake. He felt his mana slipping away from the summoners attempting to hit the 'kill' switch to this since things had gone south, but he simply didn't care. All he wanted to do was to end the long tolerated annoyance that was Azazel, he didn't even notice Mandrake walk past him because he was so enraged. He took a single step. Just one single step toward the Dark Summoner before he snapped out of his fit as he heard the familiar voice of the Ruined King.
... He was now given an ultimatum it would seem, to truly fix the situation and end Azazel, but 'suffer' the loss of Marabelle? Was Hecarim willing to do this to his king? To take action immediately against the traitor, and in the process cause him to lose someone he had done so much for? Things seemed to simply slow down as Hecarim thought this course of action through. He too had done much for these peace talks to take place, keeping his brothers and sisters on the isles in order and away from the inner chambers of the Ruined King's castle to keep them from killing Marabelle, even letting his closest friend on the isles Thresh lose faith in his king by being unable to provide solid evidence as to why this course of action was needed. So much he had done, all for his king out of nothing but fierce loyalty.
He simply had no choice, he slammed his halberd into the ice and let go of his grip on it, showing compliance. As much as the centaur hated the dark summoner it would appear his faith in the Ruined King's decision would prevail, he would let Azazel have his moment at this place and time and then once this was over: Find him and fulfill his promise of ending him.
Azazel had been moving back far to slowly, in order to keep everyone in view, for the princess' little attempt at tripping him to work. He glanced down for the briefest of moments simply to stop moving as he was now in a position that he could keep his eyes upon everyone. The soft cyan glow from beneath his hood indicating his eyes were upon the Summoner as she spoke to him, stating she had said no hostilities. He tightened his grip around the chain, tightening the cold metal against the soft flesh of the princess, further cutting off more of her air, his voice sounded once more, completely calm, calculating as though he wasn't worried in the slightest about the fact he had just betrayed possibly the strongest undead creature upon Runeterra, made an enemy of one of the strongest magical factions and one of the two major military power houses.
"And Summoner, I believe I told you not to speak. Good to know neither of us can listen to what the other wants."
The smallest of smirks tugged upon Azazel's cold black lips as he heard the King speak, as expected he had fallen into Azazel's plan and now acted like a body guard, anyone who dared to try stop Azazel would face the King's wrath. He was more than capable of ending her life, simply piercing her skull through the temple with his fingers is all it would take, "These are MY demands, you, summoner, will give the command to release the hold on magic and allow me to teleport away from here with the princess. Or she will die and peace will never be obtainable."
His eyes then moved to Jarvan, the smirk upon his lips fading, "Just continue being the good pup you are, stay where you are and she will be fine. Lets just hope no one does anything silly."
Post by Exemplar of Demacia on Oct 6, 2013 21:28:56 GMT -5
The prince held firm. The only victory to be had from this would be Fiora's safe return. His gaze moved from Kiersta to the dead king. That ones promise to kill anyone who harmed Fiora was no comfort. Jarvan's thoughts snarled She's mine but he did not speak. Instead he gauged the distance between the groups out of martial instinct, not sure what good it would do. He felt uncertain and altogether useless, that any move would be a mistake. So he waited, clutching his spear and running through the possibilities in his mind. Over and over he came to the same conclusion. As Azazel commanded he would be obliged to obey, but Jarvan was not a dog. He was a lion.
Anxious, his thoughts still paced. Kiersta might refuse to let Azazel leave. He could plead with her, but Jarvan IV had little to no control over the summoner. He watched her eagerly, his eyes darting between her and his wife. The undead held firm, and Hecarim seemingly held by his masters command. Surely they wouldn't act. Any sudden move and Azazel might end Fiora's life. She was strong, but Jarvan felt as helpless as she, as if the chain caught his own neck. If Kiersta commanded her summoners to release the flow of mana then Azazel would disappear and Fiora with her.
Jarvan IV had no choice but to trust that the cold creature he bargained with would act in good faith. Azazel had come to him, had asked the prince for this arrangement. What had he to gain from Fiora's death but the enmity of both Kings? He wouldn't harm her, not because he valued her life, but because he valued Demacian allegiance. That Garen and Xin Zhao stood beside him meant nothing. They too were helpless to change the outcome. The moments crept slowly by. He waited like a coiled spring, ready to strike but with no move to make.
Post by The Grand Duelist on Oct 10, 2013 21:49:46 GMT -5
Fiora blanched. Her nimble fingers shot up to grasp the chain around her neck as Azazel pulled it tighter. She could say nothing, but her eyes wandered up to Jarvan's face as they welled with tears. She hoped he could understand the message they bore. If I never see you again, if I never see Demacia again, Je t'aime.
Redemption of her name and recognition of her status as a Demacian paragon had been so close--and now it was likely she would die in the clutches of this vile man. She could only grit her jaw and force back tears. Where would they go? What would become of her--of Demacia? Inwardly, she resigned herself to death and turned her gaze upon Kiersta. Her eyes were pleading now. Do eet. Zis ees ze necessary thing.
Post by Kiersta Mandrake on Oct 11, 2013 0:14:02 GMT -5
At the King’s restraint, Kiersta’s eyebrows raised. Rage she had expected. Anger, hatred, lashing out: the King claimed that his ruin was brought upon by this same form of betrayal. If he would lay siege to an entire city in memory of that event, surely his hatred of this mage would be inconceivable. And yet he stayed his hand, the ruler by force of the Shadow Islands laid low by a threat to the Demacian princess. Surely this was important.
She stopped moving, the moment of opportunity she had opened burned away by the Centaur’s inaction. The failure did not show in her demeanor as the impudent mage made his demands. If he made good on his threats, the loss of his only bargaining chip would spell his end. Her eyes met Fiora’s only briefly, the resignation she saw there only hardening her resolve: she didn’t expect to be saved from the hands of this man. Once Jarvan made his position clear, she turned her attention back to Azazel, shaking her head, “It would seem that you’re unfamiliar with how negotiations work.” She motioned toward the King and Prince, “We all say our piece, then make our decisions. This is a meeting of their design, after all.” She felt her mana return to her, knowing that the others would feel the same shortly. “By their concurrence, you are free to go.” It was simple decision, her voice devoid of compunction. No more ill could come of his leaving with Fiora than the chaos their deaths may bring to these discussions. The future has many paths, and Kiersta had no doubt she would deal with this man again.
"I am very familiar with how negotiations work summoner; Negotiation is a process where each party involved in negotiating tries to gain an advantage for themselves by the end of the process." Azazel chuckled, "I think I now have the advantage."
Azazel ever so slightly released the chain around Fiora's neck, whispering in her ear so that only she could hear him, "Interesting how well your prince can act, isn't it?" he gave no indication of what he truly meant by the comment, he glanced around once more, his cyan eyes flaring as Azazel began to grasp at the magic around him, beginning to manipulate and weave it as he began whispering an incantation. He could feel the spell beginning to pull at them, it would be as though hooks were impaling themselves within both Fiora's and Azazel's body threatening to tear them apart. Pale green sparks of magic crackled in the air around them, the painful hook-like feelings growing more intense as their bodies looked to be consumed by the sparks.
If no one stopped them, they would disappear in a flash of green, leaving no trace they had been there other than cracks upon the ice where they once stood.
Post by Kiersta Mandrake on Oct 27, 2013 6:38:01 GMT -5
Kiersta watched over the defecting Shadow Islander with mild interest. Certainly he had succeeded in making quite a few enemies today, but to what end? He had lost any trust that the Ruined King may have once had in him, awakening an ire strong enough to defy death within him. No doubt this man was bound to undeath in much the same way. Could it truly be wise to anger such a being?
In addition, he had acted out against the single faction with the most reason to be opposed with the Shadow Islands. If he needed to be harbored from the Ruined King’s wrath, Demacia would no doubt be his safest haven. Her eyes slid back to Jarvan, so close to a reunion with his wife only to have her snatched away once more. Even if Fiora was returned to him, would he ever be able to sweep away the memory of her strangled gasps for breath?
Finally he had gained the ire of the Institute of War itself by not only interfering with these negotiations, but holding hostage one of its own champions in the process. She studied him carefully as he drew magic around himself. The spell he began to cast was similar to the magics she had perfected for the Fields of Justice, but his methods were raw and unrefined, relying on sheer force enact his will on the world. As the green magic began to flare around them, her eyes narrowed against the light as she raised an arm to protect her vision.
A mighty crack resounded across the waters, as though a cannon ball had been fired. Yet the sound originated not from Azazel, but from Kiersta’s position on the ice, now vacant on the ice. Where the duo had disappeared, Kiersta stood on the scorched snow adjusting the slightly singed sleeves of her robe. As she folded her arms behind her back, she was keenly aware of the fact that she now stood directly between the Ruined King and Shadow of war. “They will be found.” She turned toward the King, her back to the mighty centaur. She had faced him before, shared his thoughts. Despite all the chaos, she hoped that he would at least hesitate to cut her down defenseless. Whether the King would allow her such dignity, she was as yet unsure. “If it is your will, he will be returned to face your justice.”
Post by Exemplar of Demacia on Oct 30, 2013 21:59:54 GMT -5
When Azazel disappeared leaving nothing behind, a wave of relief passed through Jarvan IV leaving a nervous tension that left him feeling drained. Fiora was out of the ruined kings reach, but to where?
He took a deep breath and prepared himself. Regardless of where Azazel went one thing could be sure. She was far, far away from here. He hoped that made her safe. At least she would be safe from what he was about to do. Jarvan IV stepped forward as he followed Kiersta's sudden move towards the dead kings side. When she finished speaking he let out a dry echoing laugh.
"What madness possesses you summoner?" He said to all present.
"This King raises the dead against my people without provocation, holds the nightmare Nocturne under his power, likely had a hand his escape, he takes Fiora, MY wife from me, prisoner to unknown treatment, and when he fails to control his own creatures you offer him your JUSTICE?"
"JUSTICE?" He let the word hang in the air as a singular rebuke to the leagues representative as he considered how to proceed. The Ruined King would likely attack again regardless, but then there was no reason to provoke him further. He needed to restrain himself, and perhaps distancing himself from Mandrake would give her more credibility with the Shadow Isles ruler. "They will be found. With, or without your help", he said at last to her.
Then the prince raised an arm to point at the ruined king speaking calmly and evenly. "You now have nothing I want."
"Demacia is finished with these talks." Pulling the base of his lance out of the ice, the prince turned and began to walk back towards the vessel they would sail home in. The others would take it as a signal to withdraw. The damage was done, the dice thrown. Jarvan IV counted the seconds of silence as he stepped toward the ship.
Post by The Ruined King on Oct 31, 2013 7:45:51 GMT -5
The Ruined King had remained silent, standing completely still looking more like a hulking statue as he watched the summoner betray him, he was powerless to stop it without Azazel killing Fiora, yet perhaps it truly was for the best. Perhaps, this left the King with more options. Rage had ignited, it was all consuming, nearly blinding. Yet, to those unable to see into his mind, this would be utterly impossible to tell. He watched as Kiestra spoke, barely listening to the summoner as she spoke of justice. Behind the Ruined King's helm glowing blue eyes would lock with Kiestra's, she would be able to see past the cyan spiritfire that burned within only to witness the cold stare he gave her, unblinking eyes, void of anything but a cold rage at this point bore into her. His voice would hiss quietly, not aloud enough for anyone but her to hear, "It would be wise to retreat, summoner."
The king had his own reasons for warning her, but should she not heed that warning, she would surely be caught in the cross fire of what the Ruined King was about to start.
At once The Ruined King held his arm out to the side, pulling in the magics he knew to conjure a long brutal looking blade, his gaze shifted to the prince as he had his small temper tantrum, the prince was no more than a spoiled child. "Then Prince Jarvan, you are of no use to me." The spiritfire flared within the King's eyes before he roared aloud, [glow=cyan 2,300]"Nocturne, rip them apart!!!"[/glow]
I am the one who defied death. I am the one he fears. I am the on he can not take. One sweep of my hand and your nations will fall. Come for me you worms. You will all bow before my legions or be broken beneath us as we march upon your cities.
Post by The Eternal Nightmare on Nov 4, 2013 14:38:19 GMT -5
At the Ruined King's words, a black fog would billow forth from the Shadow Isles' ship. It would slowly billow around those upon the ice, encasing them in a circle as it blocked off the Demacian and Institute ships from view. Those upon the vessels would be subjected to the usual effects of Paranoia as the fog covered the ships, while those inside the circle would be left relatively unaffected. Soon after the Nightmare himself would appear, drifting forth from the darkness and casting a glare across those present. His eyes eventually settled upon Kiersta, remaining locked into a cold stare as his crimson blades extended to their full length. A single word would echo through the minds of those present, laced with malice and hatred.
Summoner...
Without so much as a warning Nocturne would lunge towards the summoner, unleashing an unearthly howl as it sped across the ice. The fog would ripple as he advanced, steadily closing in on those upon the frozen island.
"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream."
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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