May 8th, 23 CLE The Bleak Hall, Darkbourne Hold Early Evening
About a couple of months have passed since General Thralk’s untimely demise, the Noxian Rampager having met his end at a research facility of all things. Many of his peers openly pitied his death, expecting the brutish General to perish in battle- though many more of his soldiers rejoiced; the Noxian Rampager was perhaps the bluntest tactician, remembered for preferring bloody full frontal assaults that resulted either in Victorious slaughter or just slaughter. A true Noxian in body, if not in mind.
Those peers and soldiers concluded their mourning swiftly enough, resuming the business of running Noxus.
Today, Thralk’s remaining followers who did not immediately defect to other Generals, were present for the formal Promotion ceremony of the newest High Command General. Trouble was, they weren't quite sure who he was. The formal Ball was as always, held at Darkbourne hold, in the Bleak Hall, as the Grim Hall and the Dark Hall were unavailable. Fine food and wine was served for the after-ceremony party, servants moved about to deliver drinks, and the Noxian nobility and military representatives were the mainstay of the crowd.
An unusual addition to the mix were Necromancers from the Bleak Academy, in formal regalia- the academic Noxians rarely had anything to do with the military elite, until today, when one of their own had ascended to this prestigious position.
“Did you see the new General yet?” The nobles began talking among themselves.
“Yes. I’ve never seen a man of such size!” Another responded.
“And I hear he is a doctor as well. Noxian in body and mind. Very impressive.”
“He wears full plate as well. Another warrior-intellect graces our High Command it seems.”
“Is that him?” One noble who stood at the doorway to the Ball remarked, seeing a figure approaching. He quickly fled back inside the Hall.
When the clock turned 8 o'clock in the evening, The ushers rang the ceremonial gong, and all the gathered guests turned their eyes to the door.
"Announcing the arrival of Dr. Van Mordeheim, Tenured professor of the Bleak Academy and the newest member of the High Command."
Coming in from the hallway, one could hear and feel the heavy footsteps of a massive, armor plated... thing. It was clear this was no mere man- he stood twelve feet tall, and a body thicker than Gragas after an eating binge. His armor was plain but he wore an ornate cloak over it, and a helmet shaped into a distorted Minotaur’s face. People easily took notice, and made room for the massive figure, whose eyes seemed to glow red with an inhuman power. They broke into a formal applause, in congratulations to yet another Noxian climbing the ladder.
A young blonde woman in formal black contemporary and frilled dress followed right behind, subject to much fewer comments from the crowd.
“Huh. That girl must be his aid.” Suggested by a captain in the military downing his second glass of Bordeaux, observing the less imposing figure.
“Or daughter. Or wife.”Suggested another, an elderly and portly Matron, helping herself to a platter of appetizer
“Huh. Pretty thing. There is more to her than meets the eye, though...” Sylvia Monteclaire said to no one in particular, another elderly noxian noble but in enviable shape; the grey haired woman had a physique as impressive as her Gladiatrices. She was here of course, advancing herself as always.
The two figures approached the stage where the Grand General and the rest of the attending High Command were, if any deigned to attend the ascension of a new member in their circle.
The young woman meanwhile, remained silent behind the imposing figure, head downcast, left hand on her amulet. She made the effort to look over each member of the High Command, appraising their physical states, as any good doctor would.
They both bowed, and awaited for the ceremony to begin.
Post by The Master Tactician on May 11, 2013 14:09:11 GMT -5
The sound of a gong echoed through the hall, followed by the herald's formal announcement. For a moment, the chatter of high society died down, replaced first by scattered applause, then by the heavy footfalls of the approaching plate-clad behemoth. The giant parted the crowd with ease, forging a path for itself and the small, blonde-haired woman who followed in its wake.
Clad in his usual pristinely pressed military garb, withered hands folded over his cane, the Grand General stood at the head of the room, just before the two-step platform, which usually supported a grand piano. But tonight, that instrument had been removed and the hall redecorated for a singular purpose: Dr. Von Mordenheim's induction into High Command. From his vantage point, Swain observed her approach, his blazing eyes narrowed in calculating purpose. His expression remained impassive but for the fires that burned in his gaze.
Memories flashed briefly through his mind. He recalled this very ceremony, just over two years prior, in which he himself had approached the standing High Commanders--and in which Boram Darkwill had occupied the very stair upon which the Master Tactician now stood...
He never blinked as the girl neared, offered her bow and stood straight--nor did his eyes linger over her gargantuan escort. Instead, he held her gaze: firmly, purposefully, grim. The crowd watched intently, respectfully, as she drew up before him. "Doctor Van Mordenheim," the gravelly sound of the Grand General's voice rang out over the clinking of plates and glasses, the intensity of baited breath. "You have been recognized as a paragon of your country's ideals, as a gifted mind and a pioneer in your field."
The Grand General lifted his chin, maintaining a pose of dignified poise despite the skeletal state of his form, his body's heavy tremor, visibly evident beneath chandelier light. "It is with great confidence in your capacity that I, Grand General Jericho Swain of Noxus, and the standing members of High Command extend you the opportunity to claim your place at the head of our great nation, to aid us in ushering in a new era: one in which Noxus will stand as a pinnacle of strength and achievement above Valoran. One in which Noxus will rise." From his shoulder, Beatrice craned her neck to look up at the monstrosity who loomed behind the prospective High Commander, her own red eyes a calculating echo of her master's own.
"For what do you fight?" came the obligatory ceremonial question. The Grand General's own answer of the past resounded in his mind:
"For Noxus, my country. For her people. For the furtherment of the Noxian way. And for you, Grand General Boram Darkwill." In the memory, his scarred grip tightened upon the stone head of his cane, but not with the same desperate necessity it did this evening. Emilia LeBlanc's satisfied smile, the chink of toasting champagne glasses, the beaming faces of high society. Ascension.[/color]
The glowing embers of his eyes flickered only slightly before Swain returned his attention to the woman before him, awaiting her patriotic response.
Valeria glanced briefly about the room, and then turned to face the Grand General as he addressed her. She listened intently and maintained eye contact, a slight hint of tiredness in it due to her condition despite having recently fed. Still, she maintained her posture and strength.
Looking back, yhe last year had been a most shaky road towards this day, bringing everyone at the academy into line with her goals, whether by Valeria’s diplomacy or the Brute’s Diplomacy. The espionage and shadowy deals of the Black Rose had been invaluable for this, as is her own Academy’s. It went without saying that she still had many, many detractors- Rivals from Witherwood College, Thralk’s surviving family and their loyalists, and a host of other yet unseen threats. She had estimated she had waited long enough, and her rivals were now few in number- but if there were any she overlooked, they would now work together to test her mettle as a General.
It had also been taxing on her condition; she had doubled her intake of life force to almost monthly. And she had not the time to indulge in succulent invigoration either- she had to settle with the mundane energies she could take from her large lectures, taking small amounts from each student. The Bleak Academy has been reporting many cases of lethargy among its students, but students being lazy are something few people would see as unusual.
“For what do you fight?” Swain asked her, and for a moment she remained quiet, as if to think of a response. She looked at the other Generals, trying to see if any had a reaction.
The Oath’s script was simple enough to put to memory. She recited it, her voice soft spoken. The Brute also spoke as she did, serving to amplify her soft voice.
She placed her open right hand on her chest, pledging her statement as coming from her heart. The Brute moved slightly differently placing a closed fist on his left chest. “I fight for Noxus, my homeland. For her people, for the advancement of the Noxian way. For the sake of knowledge, and for you, Grand General Swain.”
Post by The Master Tactician on May 11, 2013 22:08:25 GMT -5
The Grand General accepted her oath with a formal nod. A Raedsel guard strode forth, bearing an open wooden box lined with green velvet, inside of which lay a High Commander's badge. The guard stopped at attention behind the two, his head bowed respectfully, red eyes gleaming in his helm, a head-and-shoulders taller than both Swain and Mordenheim--though still dwarfed by the doctor's brute. He extend the box towards the Grand General, who lifted the gleaming badge from its pillow, his scarred hand visibly trembling.
He took one crooked step forward and leant his cane against his hip, shifting his weight to his stronger leg. The tremor of his form became even more painfully evident as he reached to pin the badge to the doctor's jacket. For a terribly nerve-racking moment in which the room fell deathly silent, the Master Tactician seemed unable to steady himself enough to secure the badge to her lapel. His expression darkened with concentration; his jaw clenched behind his shroud. After a few intense seconds of fumbling, Swain successfully fastened the mark of the doctor's newly acquired rank to her collar.
"Welcome to High Command, General Von Mordenheim," he said, taking up his cane again. He retreated a step and resumed his position, dignified before the gathered crowd, resting his hands upon his cane once more. "Forever strong," came his authoritative rasp.
"Forever strong!" the crowd echoed, raising their glasses in unified celebration of Noxus' newest High Commander.
The doctor turned to a side to allow the Raedsel deliver the medal. Valeria frowned slightly at Swain's condition- it seemed he wasn't in the best physical condition he could be. She made a small motion to assist him, but refrained from taking any unfavorable action- her training as a doctor clashing with her Noxian mindset.
He managed to pin the badge. "Thank you, Grand General. Forever strong!" She affirmed, her eastern Noxus accent showing. People who could see were beginning to murmur after they made their toast, realizing that the girl was the General. Some discreetly voiced their distaste, the High Command having another unimpressive, non-warrior General. Others applaud the individual who can wield intellect and strategy over mere brute force, someone who emulates Swain to a degree.
As she turned to face the crowd's applause, Valeria couldn't help but speak to Swain on the stage. "Um... Grand General? I do not mean to pry, but are you feeling alright? perhaps we should take our seats." She spoke with a mixture of respect and concern, her position as a doctor showing itself.
Last Edit: May 11, 2013 23:07:33 GMT -5 by valeria
Post by Decavian Theun on May 11, 2013 23:29:01 GMT -5
Decavian was standing on the stage, along with the Master Tactician and any other high commanders who may have arrived. He waited patiently for the Doctor's ceremony to finish. Having researched about the necromancer, he already knew who she was. The noble rabble started to irritate him but he let it slide aside. Finally, a scholar joins their little council of command.
When the new recruit and the Grand General finished the ceremony, Decavian paced forward, his hand lift to shake the Doctor's hand.
"Forever Strong, miss Mordeheim." Decavian said in a welcoming voice. The pistolier's weapons were on him, all 4 of them. He wore his general black suit and the only addition would be a crimson red rose, pinned against his pocket on the left side of the suit. "May I call you Valeria?"
Post by The Master Tactician on May 12, 2013 3:32:42 GMT -5
The crowd began to mingle again. The Grand General's cracked lips pursed behind his shroud at Mordenheim's voiced concern. He had no time to issue a response, however, before Theun inserted himself between them. He stepped back, scowling at the pistolier's forwardness. At his shoulder, the great black bird without which he was rarely seen clucked her beak in disdain.
"You will find the reserved table at the far end of the hall, General Van Mordenheim," Swain said gruffly. "Welcome again and congratulations."
With a polite tilt of his head, he began to limp away, cane, step, step--presumably headed for the High Command table himself.
Post by Andre Bleakwood on May 12, 2013 9:20:58 GMT -5
Andre was not surprised the girl got the medal, being part of the nomination process and supported having a necromancer in the High Command even with his dislike of Urgot. He was wary of the juggernaut at her heel. Bigger than he had imagined.
His own memory drifted to his own coronation. He had been 30 and had served admirably as a general in Freljord. Still had the Frostbite scars to prove it. The ceremony was rushed then as he was almost immediately sent to Ionia. His hand drifted up to scratch his ear...and then he realized he didn't have one there. He took a sip of the wine. A good vintage, but Andre preferred a bit more bite in his drink.
As the Grand General approached, Andre rose and raised his glass to the general very quietly, mindful that this was a celebration for the new general, but honoring his commander. When Swain sat, he would.
"You honor me, Grand General. I am eager to serve, but also eager to learn of what lies ahead of me." she bowed again to Swain, following his lead, when the next General came up to introduce himself rather eagerly.
The Brute reacted as it was programmed, a fist slowly rising and a growl slowly emanating from behind its helm, as Decavian approached while visibly armed. The Brute hadn't even taken a half step when Valeria gestured it to keep calm.
Only then did she accept Decavian's hand to shake. Someone of her stature had, unremarkably, a weak handshake, and she was a bit cold- and a hint of tired. "General Van Mordenheim or Dr. Van Mordenheim are acceptable, General Theun. Let us be acquainted as professionals first... I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage for now."
She looked over to the other Generals and gave them polite nods. She knew them by face and name, and very brief backgrounds, and reminded herself she had much catching up to do.
"Come then, let us have our evening to celebrate and be acquainted... The days ahead will be filled with much work for Noxus." she said, following Swain's lead towards the table. She waited for the Grand General to seat before taking her own, as the Command Table was slowly being filled up.
Meanwhile in the crowd, several eyes had been trained on Valeria since she entered...
Post by The Master Tactician on May 12, 2013 12:07:39 GMT -5
As they drew upon the reserved High Command area, a Raedsel guard strode forth to pull out the Grand General's chair at the head of the table. Swain lowered himself into the high-backed seat in that slightly belabored way that had become typical of his movements: slow and deliberate, conscious of the limits of his feeble form. To Bleakwood and the other commanders, he offered a polite, if stiff, nod of acknowledgement.
Crimson eyes swept the crowd in a brief assessment of public opinion. Obviously, some of the aristocracy felt wary of the new general's giant escort, her reputation, the nature of her previous position, now being whispered through the assemblage like wildfire through the plains--but Swain had expected no less. He had been mildly surprised by the support for his preferred candidate among the other High Commanders, but against ease of operations he would not complain.
The Master Tactician sat back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. At his shoulder, his fiendish familiar trilled and preened her feathers.
Post by Girard Laurentine III on May 13, 2013 0:59:59 GMT -5
Girard remained silent during the coronation, offering only a nod of congratulation to the newly-appointed High Command General. She seemed strong, in mind and in magic. She would - hopefully - serve her country very well indeed, and earn the title of High Command General.
Such thoughts brought him back to his own promotion....It seemed so long ago, and yet only yesterday. He was promoted on the eve of the Barbarian Pacification Campaign, the mission itself seeming almost as a test to his ability to fulfill his role. The ceremony was a rushed affair, as nearly three-quarters of Noxus was being mobilized for battle...But it still stuck in Girard's memory, that moment when Darkwill pinned the medal upon his collar, the very medal he now wore, and the only one that he wore today. Sure, Girard had other medals...But they were all but pretense. Girard was a High Command General, first and foremost. If he needed further validation, he would have sought another career long ago.
Girard followed Swain to the dining table, taking his seat two chairs to the General's left. The mixed scents of several delectable dishes wafted past, causing the cryomancer to take note of his stomach's emptiness. He had not eaten since breakfast, and his stomach was beginning to protest it's lack of food....A good thing that Swain's kitchen staff were the best in all of Noxus.
Post by Zorn Agammond on May 13, 2013 1:32:39 GMT -5
Zorn's eyes watched the great Brute as it made a path through the crowd, his eyes however did not linger upon the beast. They were drawn to the woman behind it, recognition showing in his eyes as he paused, his glass of wine at his lips a slight frown upon his brow.
He returns to smiling as the ceremony commences, finishing his third glass of wine. He moves to the dining table with the other Generals. Taking his place, an eager smile on his face as he takes in the various scents of the foods. Rubbing his hands he looks around with a hungry look in his eyes.
While the majority of the guests’ appetizers were already laid out, the High Command Table’s food was carted in fresh as could be. Five uniformed servers came and filled up the table, laying out 15 kinds of cheeses- hard cheeses, soft cheeses and cheese spreads; cheese of varying colors, textures and sources, all arrayed on massive ebony platters and 7 kinds of breads served in basket, sliced and fresh from the Sinful Succulence’s catering department.
The last two carts meanwhile carried platters of salads- a mixture of leafy vegetables and colourful fruits, with many dressings to choose from, as well as tall bottles of olive oil and dark balsamic and wine vinegars. The servers poured everyone a small dipping plate for the oil and vinegar. Once each General had their servings, the staff depart to begin preparing for the next course.
No one on the table would be found lacking for the first round of appetizers, and Valeria helped herself to a sampling of every kind of cheese and bread, if only a slice or two. She also helped herself to a full plate of salad. The lady General took her seat finally, and ate with a deliberate pace, apparently enjoying the first round of a multi-course meal- dousing her salad with oil and vinegar. She ate just slowly enough to begin engaging in conversation, but was still a bit... reluctant to open up to anyone.
Most of them were large burly men, with only one other female so far. She looked at the Grand General as if he had some kind of answers on him, then towards her escort, who stayed nearby but off the stage, standing idly as no threats presented themselves yet.
She slowly chewed, wondering what to say. She eyed tonight's menu, realizing it was a really formal and heavy dinner, with appetizers and main courses coming in two parts! “My... it seems we’re in for a fine, long meal indeed. Hmm... While we may know each other by official names, perhaps it would be courteous to do personal introductions?”
Post by Zorn Agammond on May 13, 2013 7:53:38 GMT -5
Zorn looked upon the salads and cheeses and grimaced, ugh... Rabbit food. Still he piled it upon his plate, before he started eating he hears the new High General and clears his throat while pushing out his chest a little with pride, the various medals he had earned tinkered quietly with the movement, "Ah! I am Zorn Agammond, quite possibly one of the best mages in Noxus." He boasted proudly with a smile, "I worked largely in the Barbarian Pacification Campaign before being moved to Ionia during the invasion."
His smile faltered a little, the Ionian invasion was somewhat of a sore spot for Zorn, Darkwill butchering it making Zorn incompetent had caused a great deal of irritation for Zorn. The good natured smile returns however, "Anything you need I'll be glad to help." His eyes turn to his plate, before he digs into his meal eagerly.
Post by Andre Bleakwood on May 13, 2013 19:06:31 GMT -5
"Zorn, if you were half that size, you would be as formidable appearing as you claim. Every time I see you issue orders I am amazed a sniper doesn't take you out." Andre muttered with a bit of a chuckle. "If I recall correctly one almost did. Worst Ionian sniper I had ever seen. Still managed to unhorse Zorn, the enlisted mages were laughing so hard they almost missed the Ionian bastard." That sniper lasted for only three seconds after his shot before being turned into ash by the magical retaliation.
"I am Andre Bleakwood. Fought in the Barbarian Pacification Campaign and Ionia. My wall still stands in Navori, if the damned Ionians know what they are doing. My men are on the Wall." Andre said with his normal roughness.
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.
