Against the setting sun, the silhouette of Darkbourne Hold loomed, impressive and foreboding, a true testament to the extensive potential of Noxian craftsmanship. The city bustled in its shadow, streets crawling with hurried pedestrians, carriages and caravans. A few twinkling lights scattered here and there in the castle's windows called forth the image of a night sky, a pillar of celestial darkness.
Grand General Swain stood in the foyer, hands folded over his cane, the usual quad-force of Raedsel positioned at attention behind him, awaiting his dinner guest. Servants lined up in two neat rows before the grand double doors, ready to receive The Mad Chemist, whose entourage had just appeared in the drive.
The general himself appeared particularly worn, the circles beneath his crimson eyes so dark they could be bruised. He looked positively ghoulish in the dim light of the entrance hall. He shut his eyes for a moment against the flickering of sparsely placed candles. There was no time for rest. No time for sleep. Still so much work to be done.
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 3, 2013 0:03:44 GMT -5
A metallic carriage arrived at the entrance of the magnificent piece of gothic architecture. Singed got off the carriage he was dressing a white lounge suit with a crimson necktie, white cloves and fedora. His typical bandages were covering his mouth. He entered the mansion and was receive by the employees who took care of his hat and directed him to the dining room. “Greetings Grand general received your invitation and here I am.” He said on a respectful tone of voice before taking seat.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 3, 2013 4:03:10 GMT -5
Swain nodded, offering only a cheerless, "Glad you could make the journey," in response to the chemist's greeting. He limped beside his lanky guest, leaning heavily on his cane as they descended into the lower dining hall. A servant threw open the door, bowed low to both men. From the general's shoulder, Beatrice kept her crimson eyes trained upon Singed as the pair entered, seated themselves at the laden table. Four Raedsel took up their stations, standing at attention against each wall of the room.
A veritable banquet lay spread before the two men: lamb and turkey, buttered peas and mashed potatoes, tureens of gravy sauces. Swain interlaced his fingers over his plate, not moving towards any of the food. "I've much I wish to discuss tonight," he said tersely, "both personal and political."
Crimson eyes drooped closed for a moment, then sprung open again at The Raven's twitter. The Grand General ground his palms into his eyes in an uncharacteristic show of exhaustion. He cleared his throat, continuing, "What progress has been made in your research?"
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 3, 2013 19:15:41 GMT -5
Singed was observing Swain mannerisms it was painfully obvious that the grand general was exhausted and lacked sleep but he decided not to comment on it. Singed mostly ignored the banquet since right now he had more important things to do than filling his stomach. “I have advanced, I was able to reproduce and cure symptoms similar to yours but in truth when applying it to a sample of your cells the curse rejected any regeneration.” Singed took a deep breath before continuing his explication. “I have been experimenting with many biological catalysts in order to counter the rejection but until now anything from this world seems to work.”
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 3, 2013 21:15:06 GMT -5
Swain's face seemed to falter in disappointment. He held the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, sighing heavily before he requested clarification. "Catalysts? What kind of catalysts?" His brows knit. He clenched his fist until the veins on the back of his hand bulged. "What do you need to progress it further? More money? More hands?"
He lowered his left hand from his face, training his weary gaze back upon the chemist. "This is very important to me, Singed. I think you know how important." For once, there was no furor in his crimson eyes, no flashing purpose, only the heavy burden of his weariness.
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 3, 2013 22:07:27 GMT -5
Singed tried to keep his cool he knew that failure here was not an option, it never was, but he was running out of time. He put his hand on his chin thinking about every single option and possibility there was not a real way to speed his research he had already used almost every sample in his laboratory Up until that moment the only thing that had showed any signs of stopping the rejection was the samples of Void blood that Warwick had delivered to him after the voyage to Icathia but instead of weakening the curse it reacted with it and the neoplastic cells in order to create something different. “There is only one thing that you can do for me Swain” Singed had finally spoken this time with a resolute voice he had taken one decision. “Bring me a Void creature I need his blood in order to make you a cure.” It was a gamble but it if things would go as planned the result would prove extraordinary.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 5, 2013 9:33:21 GMT -5
Therein lies your answer[/color][/size], the voice reverberated off the walls of his skull, pulsed in his throat, rattled against his sternum. The general's brows shot up, deepening the premature wrinkles on his forehead. He nodded, acceding with a grunted, "Understood."
Swain's jaw extended as he tongued the recently acquired gap between his molars, brooding. A servant bustled over to the table to retrieve drink orders: "Grand General, Master Chemist." He bowed low, keeping his eyes trained respectfully upon the carpet. "Wine? Scotch? Ale?"
"Water," the general grunted. He interlaced his gnarled fingers upon the table, waited for the chemist to speak, then pressed on: "I'll use the last of the serum this week. I invite you to stay a few days to instruct my own chemists in its brewing." The word choice was deliberate, veiled in propriety--but Swain's tone held a note of dangerous desperation, which forbade refusal of his hospitalities.
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 5, 2013 20:12:17 GMT -5
Singed wasn’t precisely a man that cared too much about mannerism or the like but he quickly understood that refusal wasn’t exactly the wisest option. “Scotch please” he said to the servant. “Yes of course suppose I could spend a few days in Noxus, putting that aside I heard that Noxus is no longer part of the league.” “You never know which city or external force could take the opportunity to attack now that your country does not count with the fake protection of the league.” “Perhaps is time to renew the armament of your forces after all a technological advantage on your enemies is always welcome isn’t it?” After saying those words Singed removed the bandages on his mouth revealing multiple scars around it and served himself some of the food ready to eat.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 5, 2013 21:30:29 GMT -5
The servant bowed and hurried from the room. Swain's expression darkened. "You address my next point of interest. The possibility of attack is ever-present, but, as Noxus is the first city-state to free itself from the League's invasive military restrictions, we hold the tentative advantage: the chance to bolster our defenses independently, before our Institute-bound enemies are able to do the same."
"I would indeed seek a partnership of arms--but the manufacturing and trade of war machines will not be permitted by the Institute: not while Zaun is under their control. You know this as well as I, which brings me to my next inquiry." The servant approached the table bearing a glass of water and a tumbler of scotch. With a wordless bow, he placed these on the table before their respective imbibers. Swain waited until he disappeared behind the heavy dining hall door before continuing. "How is Magnus Dunderson?"
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 5, 2013 23:03:31 GMT -5
"Well you have brought some interesting points. While indeed it is prohibited by the league to strength the military power of an affiliated nation I do not believe the league has any actual jurisdiction in normal trades with cities not belonging to it." After that he lowered his voice a little and rested his arms on the table. "That and if the league meddles to much…well Zaun not really under anyone’s control so underground dealings are a common occurrence a bunch of weapons getting into Noxus would be only other thing to sweep under the mat." "As for Magnus he is as healthy as a chairman of Zaun can be and he is smart enough not to middle with any of our business." Singed took a piece of meat and skillfully cut it to pieces, before adding. "If worse comes to worse I could always pressure him into with drawing Zaun from the league."
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 6, 2013 0:00:28 GMT -5
The general's plate remained empty, his water untouched. He scowled, "Indeed they meddle. Regardless of where their actual jurisdiction extends, rest assured that eyes will be upon Noxus in the coming days. We will give no implication of warmongering. Things will have to be handled.. delicately."
He pursed his lips behind his shroud, his gaze searching the Chemist. "As for the state of Zaun, I believe secession will inevitably be necessary, but not immediately. It would be imprudent to pit ourselves alone against the rest of the allied world. Dunderson would do well to wait until another major power resigns, then make his move in their shadow." Swain shifted in his chair, rested his chin on his hand, fixed Singed with a Machiavellian gaze. He let his statement hang in the air, trusting his associate to infer those details left unsaid.
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 6, 2013 21:00:21 GMT -5
“Indeed it would be prudent of Magnus to wait until another city state resigns before making any movement.”
Singed said that on casual tone but the truth it was that he was quite surprised by Swains words. The tactician was not the type to talk without a cause and if he said something like that then he had at least information of another nation having problems with the league…that or someone would cause them. In between the conversation Singed had already devoured a large quantity of the food probably because of his boosted metabolism.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 8, 2013 3:28:54 GMT -5
In contrast, Swain's plate remained empty, spotless, gleaming by candlelight. He stared out over the slowly dwindling banquet, hands clasped before him, adopting his typical expression of phlegmatic brooding. "Yes," he said finally. "You will arrange for Magnus to visit me. We will review and re-negotiate the nature of our countries' allegiance. The relevant contracts were drafted during Darkwill's incompetent regime, after all."
The Raven at his shoulder watched Singed coldly as he ate, six red eyes burning through the dimness of the dining hall.
Post by The Mad Chemist on Feb 8, 2013 17:50:47 GMT -5
And this was such an unexpected solicitude that Singed almost lost his composure. While most of the contracts had been done during war times and the alliance Zaun-Noxus had been forged during circumstances which proved advantageous to Zaun those were of mutual benefit for both country’s to the point that a large part of both nations’ economies depended on that alliance. “Is there anything that has resulted unsatisfactory with the current terms of the alliance?” Should he have to make Swain remember that this wasn’t a meeting with some of his many lapdogs? But between two men that had reached the top of the food chain on their respective nations.
Post by The Master Tactician on Feb 8, 2013 21:01:20 GMT -5
The subtle exasperation in Singed's tone did not escape him. He lifted his chin to regard his comrade, studying his luminous yellow eyes, his un-bandaged maw. "No one with half a political wit would contest the fact that The Council is under your thumb, Chemist. However, for the time being, Magnus still holds the pen, even if in name only. This is as much for your benefit as it is mine. My offer has not expired. I wish only to strengthen the bond between our two great nations."
The hellish raven ruffled her feathers, re-positioning herself upon her master's mantle. Swain also re-positioned himself in his chair, resting his chin upon his fist before he elaborated further. "The new terms will give you clearance to call upon my forces should you have need, and for me to call upon yours likewise. It will allow you to assemble a personal brigade, armed as you see fit. It will create an avenue for Alchemax's scientific endeavors to benefit from Witherwood's arcane advancement--and vice versa."
Intense solemness weighed upon the general's features as he spoke. "Change is on the winds. It would behoove us to be properly prepared against whatever may arise."
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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