Even so long after the Burning Vengeance had been subdued, even after the mysterious blood mage had worked his craft, even after substantial time had been granted to refocus during Noxus' apparent preparatory phase, the man's alchemical curse lingered on. If anything, the effects of the alien alchemy had worsened.
As Renekton paced to and fro within the vast sun room, the familiar tingling, burning sensation coursed through his hide, wracking at his lungs. Whatever concoctions the madman had thrown into his artillery had certainly left its mark upon the crocodilian demigod. Waves of pain, the feeling that his very flesh was blistering, would occur with irritating frequency, his breathing would become oddly hindered as his lungs burned. The scarred areas across Renekton's body, where the flesh had corroded more severely, could only be described as horrid.
But it was not so much the physical pain that put him ill at-ease, but the all too recent visitor he had encountered: Emuishere. She had spoken with such passion for the cause of the world, for the protection of the weak, for them to bring salvation. It was but a sad dream, though. She had not felt the betrayal that he had been faced with, not seen the corruption that ran thick through the very heart of Runeterra. To preserve the world from the converging forces of fate was merely a lost cause.
...much as he himself was, laid low by a peddler of potions in a moment of triumph. As Renekton stared balefully out over the cityscape of Noxus, a wracking cough erupted from his throat as his ravaged lungs writhed in torment. Thoughts of bloody vengeance and destruction danced before his eyes, before they were quickly quashed. Bloodshed would not solve the matter at hand; little seemed capable of doing so.
Left well enough alone, Renekton maintained his silent vigil at the edge of the sun room, a grim sentinel capable of little more than seething at the world at large.
Post by Vivien LeMeire on Mar 13, 2013 22:58:46 GMT -5
A gentle knock came at the door of the Butcher's quarters. The maid who had seen to his meals and the tidying of his suite over the past weeks awaited permission to enter. One of her dainty hands bore a silver bell-jar, upon the platter of which lay a giant raw slab of meat. Noxus' Culling Blade, she had learned, preferred to slaughter his own meals--but this was not always an option. Today, she hoped he would understand. In the other hand, she held a letter.
The sounds of her temporary master's hacking coughs from the other side of the double-doors gave her pause. Against her better judgment, she gave a second knock. Perhaps he had not heard the first through his brooding.
As the burning in Renekton's lungs subsided after a time, an almost tentative knocking sound reached him. A disgruntled grumble coursed through him; he was not in the mood for visitations. Another guttural cough exploded from him before petering out into a number of smaller bursts. A mental image of the Grand General flashed through the Butcher's mind, the decrepit man's own affliction sounding with it. The thought amused Renekton to a degree; it was as though the General was brushing off on him in some bizarre way.
The knocking came once again, and with it a spike of annoyance through the Butcher's mind. Given the persistence of whoever approached, it was likely the servant girl of Swain's. He had not paid her much heed over his stay in Darkbourne Hold, but she was at least attentive to her duties.
"Enter," Renekton bluntly grumbled, hardly budging from his position of pondering. She would be on her way momentarily, no doubt.
The scent that Renekton carried was unique and flourished with the smells that had been best known to those from a world beyond Runeterra. It was strong to her delicate nose as the small, black feline walked the streets of Noxus and made her way towards the spire that shot high into the gloom of the evening sky. It was daunting to look at, and set the feline ill at ease by its mere appearance. But that was where the scent had come from, and where it remained growing ever stronger to a cat who knew her older brother so well.
It would take her some time to reach the base of the sky scraper, settling down on her hunches to stare upward in both awe and discomfort. This place gave her no sense of peace, but she worried dearly for Renekton's well being and had to make sure he was alright. His determination to set the world alight with destruction plagued her terribly, leaving her heart torn as she tried to understand the depth of his hatred and rage.
What would sound like a long meow to normal people, would be a powerful summon to Renekton. She was near. He would no doubt feel the very base of their spiritual connection quiver like strings being plucked by gentle hands. It was not in distress, but worry that the call would come to Renekton. While it would not reach further than a cat's meow, no matter the distance, the Butcher would feel it none the less.
Emuishere pawed at the air as she stared up the length of the building, moving to the fence if she were able to, to settle atop it. Another meow would escape, the same beckon to Renekton from the small house cat outside. Eyes wide and watchful, with her tail flicking side to side in anticipation.
Post by Vivien LeMeire on Mar 19, 2013 21:15:45 GMT -5
The door opened slowly, creaked out through the suite. Quiet footsteps followed: black satin flats upon the carpet, the practiced rhythm of the wing's matron-lieutenant maid. She crossed the hall and entered the sunroom, her head bowed respectfully. Upon a small table, she set the bell-jar of his massive steak, along with the sealed letter. "Master Butcher," she addressed him, bowing low.
Her eyes stayed trained upon the carpet, her hands clasped before her. The picture of manners and propriety, she inquired, "I come bearing your evening cut of beef, my lord, as well as a letter from the Grand General. Shall I fetch you some mead, sir? Some water?"
Renekton turned to consider the maidservant with a baleful gaze, though he highly doubted that she even noticed his condemning stare; as per usual, her gaze was focused solely on the ground immediately before her. In the time since he had first come to Darkborne Hold, he had grown accustomed to her general presence, as well as gotten something of a gauge on her own position in the hierarchy around the fortress. She was little more than a cog in the machine that was the Grand General's ultimate ambition.
Swain...a man in the same position of power that Renekton himself had sought after in his homeworld. He possessed the martial power, the influence, and the command to keep control over so much, yet he produced such followers as the servant girl. Was this what Renekton's own ambition would produce in the end: a swarm of drones? The thought did not entirely appeal to him; mankind needed to learn its place, yes, but at the same time...
"Mead, then," Renekton rumbled after a pause, retrieving the proffered letter before turning back to gaze over the city. There would be time for introspection later, Renekton asserted as he perused the contents of the missive. At present, there was apparently work to attend to.
Post by Vivien LeMeire on Mar 25, 2013 20:24:42 GMT -5
"As you wish, my lord." The maid bowed low, her waist-length brown hair sweeping over her shoulders to cover her face as she did so. Then, she turned on her heel and hurried from the room to comply with her charge's request. The letter, penned on the thick official parchment of High Command business and sealed with the green-wax symbol of Noxus, came open at the slice of Renekton's talon.
Butcher, I will require your presence during my trip to Zaun in four days' time. Your purpose on this journey is twofold: to promote our allies' militarization in the name of Noxus and to receive medical attention for your ailments relating to chemical exposure. No better doctor than the originator of these. You will swallow your rage for the duration of our visit. No doubt you hold contempt for the Chemist, but he is necessary to the Grand Design. When we return to Noxus, I will grant you ample outlets for your fury. But you cannot uphold your end of our bargain lamed--nor are you fit to return to Your Realm in such a state.
You will meet me, clad in your fitted armor, wielding your crescent blade, at the front gates at dawn on April the 2nd. Be prompt. Be prepared for a ten day journey.
Regards, Grand General J. Swain
It was only a few minutes before the maid returned bearing a tankard of mead fitting for a being or Renekton's impressive stature. She bore it in two dainty hands and set it upon the table beside her master's meat with a thud. A graceful curtsy. "My lord, may I fetch you anything else?"
Renekton perused the letter several times over in grim contemplation, coughing slightly as he did. So, it was to be a trip back to his original point of origin in this unstable world, and to see the madman responsible for unleashing the hideous, alien pestilence upon him. Were it not for Swain's careful instructions, Renekton doubtlessly would have torn the chemist in half upon arrival. If the man held the cure to this affliction, however, then he would be spared, if temporarily. Further, perhaps he could come out ahead with this situation; the Chemist was known even to the demigod to manufacture empowering substances and concoctions. It would not be a far cry to perhaps see himself be further bolstered by these experiments and examinations; he would need all the strength and power he could possibly gain if he were to lay waste to his opponents, and eventually, Nasus[/i].
The thought of his treacherous brother made Renekton's blood boil, his hatred deepening even further from their recent meeting. Perhaps by subconscious whim, the letter vanished within Renekton fist with hardly a sound, minute shreds drifting towards the floor immediately afterward. How dare he try to sway the Butcher, even then?! His rage was off-set at that moment, like a pebble tossed into a pond; an echoing mewl somehow carried up from the ground outside of Darkborne Hold. Renekton knew from observance that it was naught but a straight fall to the earth below. The sound came again, giving Renekton all the confirmation he needed.
"At the fortress' base, there is..." Renekton started before pausing briefly. This was an odd request to make, certainly. "A visitor, of high esteem. Bring her to me."
Despite the very much neutral relationship between him and the servant, Renekton had no intention of asking to be brought a cat at the bottom of the castle, at least, not directly.
Post by Vivien LeMeire on Mar 29, 2013 13:49:24 GMT -5
Though the maid's expression remained politely impassive, her almond eyes trained respectfully upon the floor, inwardly she quirked a brow. Who would journey here to visit the Culling Blade of Noxus? They must have come peacefully; they must have come openly. Few in this world were stealthy enough to evade the network of guards that protected the dignitaries she served. And if the visitor were capable of such deception, they would need no reception. Who could it be? A curious summoner? No, as far as she could gather, Renekton held the same distaste for the Institute of War as the Grand General. Why shouldn't he? It was they who bound him, they who kept him chained.
She could not help herself the briefest glance over her master's fearsome form. Why had the League held him? It seemed unnecessary. He was not the most genteel master in the world, but he had never yet laid a claw on her. The fear with which she initially regarded him had mostly subsided over the weeks of her service, replaced instead with cautious reverence. So long as she served to his satisfaction, she would likely not end up in his jaws. If anything, her assignment to the demigod had been an exhilarating challenge, unique in her experience.
"At once, my lord," Vivien curtsied gracefully and hurried from the room. Through the Butcher's living room she went, past the untouched shelves of books, the wingbacked chairs, through the double doors. Light steps carried her swiftly through the castle, down the winding staircases, through dimly lit halls, across the foyer, until finally she came to the massive front doors. On either side there stood a guard, poised, at attention. Vivien curtsied low and strode forth, laying a dainty hand over the iron knob. She felt grateful in this moment that her status as matron-lieutenant permitted her to do such things; a lesser maid would have likely been apprehended for stepping outside unbidden.
The guards did not move, even to acknowledge the maid's respectful gesture. Vivien crossed the threshold and closed the door behind her. The sealing thud was followed by the swift tak-tak-tak of black flats upon the marble stairs as she descended to the courtyard, the the rhythmic crunch of gravel as she hurried towards the gate. More guards stood at attention here, some clad in the imposing armor of the Raedsel guard. Crimson eyes watched Vivien as she approached. She would not meet them, but feel them in the way her hair stood on end. Despite their constant presence in The Hold, she could not sometimes help but feel intimidated by their piercing gazes.
Reaching the gate, she curtsied low again. Almond eyes now scanned the street outside for the esteemed visitor her master was expecting. No one. Was this a joke? A trick? No. That did not seem at all Renekton's style. She took another step towards the gate, scanned the path for an approaching form. But there was no one. No one but a sleek black cat outside the grate.
The black feline was not some plain looking thing. She carried upon her gold jewelry that would make her stand out to some degree. A simple head dress, a choker, and a ring on both her front leg and her tail. The scent of Renekton was clear to Emuishere when the maid approached the gates. Her iridescent green eyes glowed lightly upon the gentle moon rays that broke through the murky clouds above. Another quiet meow, padding her way nearer to Vivien with her tail swaying with eager anticipation. Was this who would allow her in?
She settled down onto her hunches, pawing at the air before a voice would reach out from her. "Where is Renekton?" It was motherly and warm, yet eager as well. A sense of urgency laced through the female voice. Had the cat just spoken? It might seem odd, but so was a giant crocodile demi-god! Emuishere tilted her head gently to one side, then stood up from her hunches to close the distance to Vivien. Another meow following, more pressing then the last. Whatever her purpose for being here, it was urgent.
Post by Vivien LeMeire on Mar 29, 2013 23:55:01 GMT -5
Vivien blinked. Had she just been addressed by a cat? She stared down at the sleek feline form, noting the golden adornments it wore. There, upon the cat's shining green eyes, almond ones lingered, full of intrigue. But it was not a cat. It was... a visitor of high esteem? The maid quickly remembered herself, dropping her gaze from Emuishere's and training it again upon the gravel. She curtsied low. "He is within." Would 'my lady' be appropriate? "He is expecting you."
For a moment, she hesitated. Was it within her right to receive a guest unbidden by the Grand General? But she had been surrendered to Renekton, and this was The Butcher's bidding. Vivien bent at the knees, her black uniform falling over the gravel as she lowered herself to the visitor's level, extending a graceful hand towards the bars, which were spaced just widely enough that the feline would be able to slip between them.
Should she carry the cat? Was that disrespectful? She waited, deciding to let the visitor set the tone of their interaction, for Emui to come to her.
Emuishere watched as the maid knelt down with her hand extended out towards her. Small paws padded their way closer with her nose twitching to take in the scents on the woman. A twitch of her whiskers, and Emuishere quickly ran up her arm to settle upon her shoulder. Should Vivien not protest, she'd settle contently upon her, keeping herself well balanced while she readied for the trip to see her brother. Another softer meow, gently nuzzling her cheek against Vivien's.
Post by Vivien LeMeire on Apr 9, 2013 3:37:55 GMT -5
The maid smiled slightly, her almond eyes alight with curiosity and mirth. The cat was light, despite her golden adornments, and so Vivien stood, Emuishere upon her shoulder, and hurried back up the drive, up the impressive marble stairs, through the carved front doors and on through the twisting passageways of Darkbourne Hold.
The castle's lower halls were build partway into the mountain itself, and still bore the gloomy air of the caverns they once were. The architecture spoke of the potential of Noxian craftsmanship, the sheer scope, the intricate details. Graceful steps carried the maid and her passenger through the sepulchral halls of Darkbourne Hold, silent on the marble and the carpet. It was several minutes--and several flights of stairs--before she finally alighted in The Butcher's wing.
She knocked once before pushing down the handle to announce her presence. "My lord?" Vivien inquired. "Your guest arrives." She stepped over the threshold, the cat still perched daintily upon her shoulder, and waited for Renekton to emerge from the sunroom in reception. Nervousness plagued her mind. Perhaps this is not the guest he sought. Perhaps it is but a cat. Will he kill me? But Vivien hid her misgivings behind a polite, unassuming expression, her eyes ever trained upon the carpet.
In the time since the servant girl, Vivien, had left to retrieve Emuishere from the fortress' base, Renekton had busied himself with the proffered meal, or at least attempted to do so. The contagion that he had fallen victim to made even that simple task troublesome, with every swallow sending wracking pain throughout his system. The only comforts he could take were in the view of the Noxian skyline provided by the sun-room's vista, and the hefty tankard of mead that had been brought. How the mighty had fallen...
Were his efforts in Runeterra worth such instances of misery? Already he commanded respect in this city-state, wielding authority and prestige much as he had on the Homeworld. It was difficult to compare the two, admittedly; it were as though he set the sun next to a jar filled with ants. But in Runeterra, his ambition of rule seemed so much more possible. Deities that could nearly equal him were nearly nonexistent in this realm, excepting a few, and mankind here was unfamiliar with the power of his people. How difficult would it be to usur...no. The Homeworld needed him, and he would do whatever it took to return to those familiar shores.
A single knock drew his attention back, rousing the Butcher from his reverie. They had returned, it appeared. Plodding steadily back towards the main wing, Renekton's gaze alighted first on the servant girl, as uniform and subservient as ever, then to the familiar black cat seated atop her shoulder.
"Sister," Renekton rumbled, quirking a brow at the newcomer. "Welcome to Noxus."
The small, black feline daintily made her way off of Vivien's shoulder with striking green-gold eyes set upon Renekton. She was weakened, shown in the small tumble she took upon landing on the floor before rising up with that same grace she often showed. A small mew of sadness reached the air, before the small black feline would allow her form to return to its normal appearance.
In the blink of an eye, the small cat had become the slender woman with sleek black fur and vibrantly colored clothing covering her form. Emuishere did not wait long to close the distance, with her long fingers pressing lightly against Renekton's arm before leaning her body against his. It comforted him, feeling him there beside her, within grasp, where a faint purr escaped her. Content in the fact she was not away from one of her most cherished brothers.
"Brother.." She whispered, with tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. "I bring unwelcome news.. The Void.." Lifting her eyes to his, "..it's taken our world."
A moments pause, studying his reaction as her own pained look lingered upon is visage. She dare not pull away, for fear of losing him in a moment she was terribly vulnerable.
"I looked upon the face of its darkness.. I saw our people beckoning me forward into it.. Even now, I hear their screams, and a voice in my mind.. calling me to join it."
Emuishere didn't appear to be tainted. But the voices, and the calling might clue him in to the fact. She leaned into him tighter, curling her fingers against his chest with her eyes closing. She was trembling, both in fear, rage, and deep sorrow.
"We've no home to return to, brother. They're.. gone.. And the Void means to take this world, too."
Last Edit: Apr 11, 2013 8:17:20 GMT -5 by Emuishere
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.
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