Prince Jarvan arrived at the Demacian dungeons, with his still unconscious prisoner slung over his shoulder. The guards keeping watch of the door straightened up when they saw their prince approach. They quickly stepped out of the way and opened the door for him.
"Is that guy the cause of all the ruckus at the church?" Word had spread fast.
"Yes, just a simple problem that needs to be fixed." He stepped through the doors and began the descent to the deeper part of the dungeons. Once the group following the prince entered, the guards would close the door.
The Demacian dungeons were dimly lit by torches. There were only tiny windows on the walls of the upper levels. As the group went deeper underground, the atmosphere got more dim and more humid. They passed guards and prisoners paying for their crimes. Demacia was strict, and simply stealing something small would give you a good amount of time to think about what you've done.
Once Jarvan was satisfied with how deep they had ventured, he veered off to the side and selected a cell. It was fairly large, and far away from any other occupied cells. He threw Malzahar onto the hard floor and leaned against the bars. "You may begin cousin."
Post by Cordellia Spiritmight on Jul 1, 2013 20:17:54 GMT -5
Cordellia followed Jarvan closely, her expression grim as she stepped in after Jarvan. She nodded and produced a blindfold requested before she had came in. She tied it tightly around the prophets head so that he wouldn't be able to look into her eyes. Raising his arms she chained him to the wall so that he was sitting against the wall with his hands raised above his head in a Y position.
A loud crack would sound from the cell as her armored hand came into contact with his cheek, slapping him so that he would wake up, "Common' prophet. Time to dance." She drew her sword partway from its sheath, a soft glow would illuminate the cell as a piece of metal broke away from the sword and floated up to his right hand, gently pressing into it drawing small beads of blood as it split the skin, "Still alive?"
Post by theseneschal on Jul 2, 2013 20:22:58 GMT -5
Xin had followed the two quietly, keeping a close eye on Malzahar to ensure he didn't wake and attempt to do the Prince any harm while in their custody. As Jarvan threw him into the cell and Cordelia got him situated for the interrogation, Xin stood in front of the door with his arms folded. Hardened eyes lingered on Malzahar waiting for him to stir from his unconscious state - likely with something of a headache.
Not a wince, nor any form of empathy came from the Seneschal. He would watch and wait and should Malz attempt harm upon Cordelia or Jarvan, he would intervene. And Malz would not enjoy those consequences in the slightest.
Post by prophetthevoid on Jul 2, 2013 21:30:31 GMT -5
The Prophet grumbled in his unconscious state. What he was even trying to say while passed out was a mystery. Chaining up the limp man was not a problem, but when he awoke the situation was entirely different. He let out a groan of pain as metal colliding with his face. And already purple lights could be seen glowing behind the blindfold.
He hissed in pain as the shard went into his hand, he struggled against it, but only caused more skin to be cut from his abrupt movement. Now, he was struggling, not even listening to her words as his head looked around frantically. "Where are We? Let Us go now!" He said, looking straight at Cordellia, even WITH the blindfold on.
Post by Cordellia Spiritmight on Jul 2, 2013 22:11:02 GMT -5
"Good to know you're awake." she muttered, the shard next to his hand would make a sharp movement, piercing skin and flesh impaling his hand to the wall. Blood would trickle down from his wound, "Listen!" She yelled at the Prophet, she narrows her eyes, noticing the glow two more shards detach from the sword and sit level with where his eyes would be, "Try anything but answer our questions, and I'll slice into your eyes and shred the socket to ribbons. Understood?"
Post by theseneschal on Jul 6, 2013 5:47:01 GMT -5
The Seneschal said nothing as he stood by. His gaze on Malz primarily, though from time to time he would shift it to Cordellia and Jarvan.
"Should you be foolish enough to try anything, Prophet.." Xin spoke up, bringing awareness to the fact Cordellia was not alone, "..you will pay a grave penalty." He closed his eyes as he leaned back, letting the sounds around him tell him what he wished to know. The way Malz spoke, the way he fought, he would be constantly searching everything he does for information.
Post by prophetthevoid on Jul 7, 2013 22:33:15 GMT -5
Malzahar felt the blood trickle down his hand, and hissed in pain. Immortal, but most certainly not invincible. He hears the sounds of two voices. This made things a problem now. He struggled a little bit more, before finally giving up as he laid chained to the walls, toes touching the ground. "Very well. We shall answer questions that We deem answerable." He said. The Prophet can know and see many things, but not everything.
Post by Cordellia Spiritmight on Jul 8, 2013 0:59:09 GMT -5
Another shard flicks forward, impaling his free hand to the wall. A sickening grinding could be heard as metal gouged into the cell wall, twisting within his hands, ripping the flesh sending a small spurt of blood outwards as the metal cut various veins. His crimson life was now trickling down his hand and elbow, Cordellia hissed at the prophet, "You will answer ALL that we ask. I am sick, and tired of Demacia being threatened. I will shred you apart, have someone heal you only for me to shred your insides once more."
She pauses taking a deep breath, the dark expression that crossed her features faded as she calmed herself. Cordellia looked over to her cousin, "Ask your questions."
Post by prophetthevoid on Jul 8, 2013 12:29:48 GMT -5
Malzahar cried out as metal impaled his flesh once more. Involuntary actions began to take place. The glowing on his eyes intensifying as Void magics pushed the shard out from his hand, more blood dripping from his hand now as he cried out in pain. Well... At least the raising of his arms made it hard for blood to flow out. It gave him a higher rate of surviving one could suppose. He just hung there, breathing heavily and awaiting his questions.
Jarvan hated this situation. He hated having to bind someone and torture them, it reminded him too much of when he was on the receiving end. He could feel his uncountable number of scars all sting as if they were fresh cuts again. He felt sick, and wanted to run out of there. But, he had to remain. He had to stay strong and vigilant in case his cousin needed help.
The prince tried to take his mind off of that part of his past by looking away. He forced himself to take deep, even breaths. This was needed, Malzahar was a threat to his home. They weren't just doing to this to him because it was fun.
Post by theseneschal on Jul 10, 2013 18:02:18 GMT -5
Xin knew Jarvan well enough to recognize the discomfort. His gaze settled steadily upon the Prince as he unfolded his arm, and lifted his hand to rest upon his shoulder. A reassuring gesture, one not spoken of so not to clue Malz in on Jarvan's comfort level. He'd nod once to the Exemplar and turned back to Malz, watching Cordellia do her work. This did not bother him. He understood however, why it bothered Jarvan.
Post by Cordellia Spiritmight on Jul 13, 2013 6:27:33 GMT -5
Cordellia stared blankly at Jarvan, "You're supposed to ask questions..." Rolling her eyes she turned back to Malzahar, the blades in his hand slowly twisted, causing more blood to flow from his wounds, "So. You're going to tell us absolutely everything you know about the void, 'Prophet'. Or this is going to very drawn out and very painful. We have all the time in the world."
Jarvan was brought back into reality when Xin placed his hand on him for assurance. He nodded at his teacher, giving him a silent thanks. Even though his past was horrific, he couldn't let it traumatize him. He had a duty he had to fulfill. He took a few calming breaths and cleared his throat before attempting to speak.
"Yes, of course." His tone was stern and strong, exactly what was needed of him at the moment. He walked closer to Malzahar. "Listen closely, Prophet. I am sure you recognize my voice, and you should also know the severity of the situation you are in. To be frank, I am quite furious, and am tempted to simply kill you where you kneel. Now..." The prince then kneels next to his captive and takes his chin in a vice-like grip. "Why is it that the day after an invasion from the Shadow Isles, that you show up? Hmmm? Did you know of the attack?"
Post by prophetthevoid on Jul 18, 2013 21:34:28 GMT -5
Malzahar's head hung loosely as he listened to what was going on. Apparently whoever was doing the interrogating was having second thoughts about this. Good, a weakness. Once he heard the sound of his voice, he looked up to him. "We had envisioned it would be you to question us Prince. You were the one who had did his best to capture us."
He felt the grip on his chin, letting out a grunt of discomfort as his glowing eyes looked towards his. "We had heard of what happened. The dead shall rise from their grave, and reform what was once theirs. That is what They tell Us." He said as his head bobbed back and forth. "We had come to gain followers, just like We have done before. There was a crack in the dam and We wished for the water to flow freely and out of its imprisoning walls."
Post by Cordellia Spiritmight on Nov 3, 2013 19:35:41 GMT -5
Cordellia watched as her cousin questioned the Prophet, she couldn't help but feel a sense of bloodlust. A want to flay Malzahar alive and watch as he squirmed in agony for what he had tried to do to vulnerable Demacian public. Cordelia made a slight movement with her hand, channeling the rather unrefined energy in order to twist the shards within the Prohpet's hands as they hung above his head. Anger, something she had always struggled with, was most definitely boiling within her, another enemy of Demacia. How many people wished to see it crumble? Why? Because of different ideals? Was everyone so damned blind?!
"Jarvan, I don't think we should let him leave alive. The Institute, the League, surely they would understand?"
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.
Hang out in a citystate, visit the Institute of War, explore the uncharted recesses of Runeterra. Whatever you decide, good luck, have fun and happy writing.
hello new skin yes. gonna work out some kinks but let me know what you guys think. it's not all that flashy but i didn't really like the tabs so the side bar is back. oh and the cbox has also made it's appearance. -rurin.
Maelstrom was created by Swain. Written content is copyrighted to their creators on this site. The skin is created by Wolf and mini-profile template by Kuroya of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney and has been heavily edited by Rurin. League of Legends is owned by Riot Games. Maelstrom does not claim ownership to any images used unless stated otherwise.
cbox
Chat box has been removed for the time being. Please contact me at Wyerden@gmail.com, or skype name DearCryophoenix with for any questions or concerns.
