Fantasy IN THE NAME OF THE KING

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

((Sigurd doesn't play that way. He likes the challenge and seeing the expressions of betrayal or rage on his victim's faces before they get dumped in a ditch. But I get you. I was excited at the idea though and wanted to get it out there before others jumped on the chance. Plus, it totally makes sense a sinister character with no heart would do such a thing))

 

[AzileQueen]

Silas could hear everything from where she was, behind Sigurd. 'How'd you get here so fast?' she wondered, but soon waved the thought away.


As she got a better look at the man, she realized who he was: Arthur. The man who supposedly killed the previous king. Arthur yelled, and her eyes widened as she listened to his story. Sad. So terribly sad. A frown found its way on her lips, but no one could really tell what she was thinking. Eyeing Sigurd suspiciously, she pushed past him and his sword. "Then wouldn't you want revenge more than anything? Your family may have died, but you didn't; you're still alive. Your feeling pain says so," she tried. Arthur truly didn't kill the lion-heart of a king. But the red-eyed man... he seemed to be on the new king's side.


Her dark brown orbs glanced over the tall man behind her for a moment, before going back to Arthur. Sigurd wouldn't possibly try anything. Not with so many skilled sword master's about.

 

[RagingNoodle]

Jackson saw as Arthur tear a piece of Dante's armor with his blade. He walked over to get a better look at the situation but stayed back far enough to be out of harms way. He saw as Sigurd approached and herd him talk about some strange mambo jumbo. Honestly Jackson could have cared less this man was of no interest to the necromancer. He had seen many of his kind and from his experienced they never lasted more than a few years. Jackson decided to stick his nose into this situation. He loved doing that. He approached Sigurd and gave him a small little bow. "why hello there i couldn't help but over heard you saying something about killing my friend there. You see hes going through a bit of a rough time i hope you could reconsider killing him" as he said this his staff began to glow a little brighter. "We wouldn't want to have a problem here would we ?" He looked into Sigurd's eyes there was something there. Something familiar but he couldn't put his finger on it. "tell me what is you name Sir?"

 

[ThatGuyWithSouvlaki]

"Tell us his name I have a better idea what he can do for us." She said calmly but coldly. She reached for a secret compartment in her outfit and took out a throwing knife, through it as hard as she could at Sigurd.

 

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

Sigurd looked at the gathered crowd, distracting his prey. Mere flies in the way of the glory of slicing Arthur's throat finally. His red rose passed him, trying to morally support the ex commander. That was a bad choice, doll face, Sigurd thought in disappointment. Then the necromancer decided he could talk to him. Sigurd looked down at the man. He was annoyed for being ignored. Perhaps Blackthorn hadn't heard him. then again, he did mutter it to himself. Sigurd would've been sheepish...if he could've been.


Sigurd's eyes examined the necromancer cruelly. Filthy runt. "Many know me by Imp, the widow and widower maker. But there are some who have known me as my true name, Sigurd Kenelm. Master manipulator and assassin at the service of your imminent demise, sir." His eyes flashed dangerously. But he didn't agree to not killing this man's new 'friend.' He turned back to the majority of the crowd, drawing his dirk as well now. Perhaps if he tried a spell, he could take them all on. That would be fun. But there wouldn't be a guarantee of his life or the fact that he could slay Arthur, with so many buzzing bees defending him. The human heart was a weakness. These narrow minded fools obviously hadn't realized that. They hadn't discovered true beauty or seen what the real gems of life were. Perhaps he could enlighten them. A flash caught his eyes and he dodged a throwing knife. He looked at the offending party dangerously, his smile that of a snake.


"Was that for me, oh so noble bard?"

 

[One Mean Ghost]

Dante made no attempt to move, letting the cloth rip away from the sword. "I do not think you a metal man, Arthur. I know the sting of loss all too well, and I know how all consuming such loss can be. But that does not excuse your conduct. You do nothing as the dread fingers that twisted fate still play their games. Those that took all from you still live to take from others. THAT is how you have disgraced your loved ones. You did nothing to avenge their unjust deaths." He reaches up, trailing a finger through some of the blood, a cut on his chest opened from the attack. "But now I see it... your fire has returned... Your eyes show it... Let that rage, that fire... fuel you to avenge your loss... You have a reason to live, Arthur, a reason to continue the fight now..."


It was at this moment that Sigurd spoke up. "And it seems... your first step to peace has decided to open its ill-advised mouth..." Dante glanced over at Sigurd before returning his gaze to Arthur. "Never kneel again Arthur. Never let yourself fall again.. for their sake"


@XxLuluxX

 

[Sinisters]

The small crowd that had gathered in the streets below to observe this curious event shielded the shivering body of one Eliza Sparrow, brow muscles aching as she observed the rather complex 'discussions' that evolved between the group with squinted eyes and a pained expression. She had merely been standing outside The Crooked Crow beforehand, trying to flog the last of her winnings on her latest hunt, spitting all manners of colourful words at those who'd expected her to be part of some rather less prideful profession. It was the shouting, the scurrying of strangers and clangs of weapons being drawn that tempted the girl toward the commotion. Due to being so bloody short, however, she had a bad view, even if the crew did stand towards the edge of a rooftop(?). Inquisitive as ever, Eliza took it upon herself to venture into the bar, nimble fingers wrapping instinctively about the handle of her dagger as she saw the dead body. Looks like this meeting really wasn't so friendly, she thought to herself, swallowing down a gasp. It took the girl a few moments to identify the passing to the stairs, but was at the window in which overlooked their gathering just a few heartbeats later, having almost sprinted up the stairwell to resume watching the action. It was just as she fell into the shadow of the window frame, just as the fingers on her spare hand clutched the wood did she witness the knife leaving the hand of a girl, forcing her to stop in her tracks. She had intended on jumping down onto the roof top, demanding some explanation for their qualms, but reclined her decision as not to get struck down by a blade not meant for her own flesh. Simply, she waited.


(Really wasn't sure where to jump in, sorry, ha..)

 

[RagingNoodle]

Imp, he had herd of him through his travels. According to the rummer he was a sinister man. Ruining the lives of many. How... interesting. This man had single handily destroyed the lives of so many and why? for his own amusement perhaps? Jackson reconsidered his first impression of this man. He was someone he show pay close attention to. Before he could say anything back to Imp a knife flew passed his head and went straight for Imp. But he dodged it and even smiled about it. His smile is... snake like. Jackson liked this man. His red eyes shined with excitement. He looked back to see who had thrown the knife. It had been the Bard. Jackson stepped out Imp's was. "I like you Imp your interesting... do as you please i wont get in your way" He winked at the Bard "You better be careful this ones dangerous." And with that he stepped aside and next to Silas. He stood a bit to close to her.

 

[XxLuluxX]

The Raven


He was filled with flame. Rage. The anger of a man whom had nothing left to loose. He turned to the red eyed figure. Forgetting everything. The people whom surrounded him; speech and sound. Twas only the two of them. This battle would be swift. "...In the name of the king." It was so bitterly spat, that the words corroded his soul a little bit more. Gnawing away on the bone of depression. "May the gods be thy witness and my death not in vain. Lend me the strength and spirit of Ysgramor (*Cough* Skyrim *Cough*); the knowledge of the dead and love of the living" Arthur closed his eyes a moment. "Amen." Blackthorne charged the assassin, whoms hands had been stained in his sons blood. The one whom had claimed life that was not his. The blade struck with a clash, shoving him back a step with the momentum.

 

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

Sigurd cocked his head in amusement, a glorious feeling rushing through his veins. This man that stood blade against blade against him absolutely hated Sigurd. He grinned victoriously. This battle would be something to relish in, if the others didn't interfere like their 'honor' forced them not to. Gods, he just may die this evening but was there to lose? No one knew him from before. Before was what mattered. But no one knew of before so it did not interest Sigurd's twisted mind.


He pushed back against Raven, pushing him a few steps back so he could regain his ground. "Amen?! Your gods will not save you from your demise!" He cried out in glee. This broken man would die such a pitiful fool! His eyes gleamed as he countered another attack. "Come on, Commander. Try and finish the job. For your poor whimpering boy." The small speck of light that had been protected in his heart by shadows flickered angrily at him. She wasn't here though. Only the abyss.


Sigurd laughed as Blackthorn's blade grazed his cheek. He didn't care if it was poisoned. He would finish this before it took hold.

 

[Sinisters]

The intimidation that filled the voice of the man that so easily deflected his demise rung out into the air, forcing Eliza's heart to almost bounce out of her chest as the tones settled on her eardrums. That voice. The girl found herself leaning over the open window frame, torso fully exposed to the breeze that whipped along the rooftops and danced through her copper-brown hair. That voice. She held her breath, trying not to interrupt the words coming from his lips so she may identify them properly. That voice. I know that voice. Memories of her youth would flutter before her eyes, forcing the girl involuntarily breathless. Often did she try to remember her past, relishing in every memory of the happy life she was once gifted with. But surely it can't be? Perhaps her years of travelling-- Of hearing so many different voices, seeing so many faces, dreaming so many dreams-- had driven the girl to insanity. Maddened her into thinking that her past life still existed in this forsaken realm. But, naive to deflect that stereotypical 'follow your heart' disposition that her family had once so strongly encouraged, Eliza found herself leaping nimbly down upon the rooftop without even giving her legs permission to do so, the slightest of thuds resounding upon her landing, knocking one or two tiles from their clutch. She stood upright, after a crouched landing, fingers tracing thin strands of hair out of her eye's disturbance. She muttered, perhaps loud enough for the small crowd to hear, but not much louder than a whisper; "I know that voice."

 

[AzileQueen]

Silas stepped lightly away from Jackson. Just in time, too, as Arthur raged his path towards Sigurd in seconds. The roof was most certainly not the best place to fight—especially with so many people. The former commander dealt a small slash across Sigurd's cheek, and she tilted her head. Why wouldn't Arthur just try ending it immediately? Whilst Arthur tried to inflict some damage, Sigurd laughed, seemingly toying with the man's heart. In the end, she wondered how long the fight would last and who would stand victorious. Both men were skilled in two very different arts, so it was hard to say.


Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a newcomer. 'Well, we've sure gotten popular,' she thought, her orbs now trained elsewhere.

 

[RagingNoodle]

Jackson was taken back by the new comer. His eyes widen. well well well hello there He thought to himself. Her copper brown hair was beautiful with a few flowers in it. She had a petite frame and her eyes. Her eyes green like that of emerald. Jackson froze he could moved. Paralyzed by beauty? He's thoughts went blank as she spoke. Her voice sounded like that of a goddess. He was powerless. His focus completely left the fight all he could focus on with this girl. He slowly made his way towards her


@Sinisters

 

[Yoyoman200]

(Sorry if this post doesn't make any sense for any reason, just trying to keep up with what's going on! )


Ivan sighed as he saw who it was. Arthur, of course it just had to be him of all people. "But why here, what is there to benefit from in this type of city, or this bar even?" He wondered, then froze as he thought about Arthur again. "Wait, wasn't he beheaded?!" He said aloud, shocked that anyone could survive such an execution. As Arthur ran upstairs, Ivan dashed out to the street, where a crowd had already gathered, looking up at the roof.


"Dear Gods....." He exclaimed as Arthur stood cornered by some of those he had seen at the bar earlier. Suddenly, he had an idea.

 

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

Sigurd saw her arrival and almost double-taked if it weren't for Arthur trying to skewer him. Gods, she was here? She was here?! He narrowly dodged a skilled jab. What was he going to do? This wasn't fair. She recognized him somehow. She shouldn't see him like this. The light flickered in his heart once more, glowing a bit brighter. Damned hope. Damned love. Damned innocence of youth. He locked blades with Arthur and glanced at her. She'd grown. So beautiful. The delicate flower he would never dare destroy. The reason of his obsession of innocence when he went mad. Then he saw more movement. Sigurd rolled from Arthur's swing and almost fell off of the edge of the roof. He looked again for a split second, multi tasking between death and curiosity. The necromancer dare approach her! The fool! That woman was better than him. She didn't need his corrupt gaze on her. Sigurd would show this man his place before a goddess. This rage fueled him more than his delight of fighting Blackthorn and he let the man come at him, parrying and feinting. Just one second was all he needed. And there was his chance. A bit rude to disrupt the vengeful duel, but Sigurd's interests were more important to himself than letting a broken man honor the dead with killing him. He pushed past Arthur, sending his pommel into the base of his spine. Just one second. His eyes flashed a green color as he summoned an enchantment of speed. He stood in front of Eliza, his sword pointed against the throat of Jackson. "Don't you dare even look at her, necromancer." He hissed possessively.

 

[One Mean Ghost]

Dante saw Sigurd hesitate. Following his gaze, he saw...- .Eliza? Just what is she... No.. it can't be....-


Dante made the connection... -So it really is the same person... the hell happened to him?....-


Then Sigurd broke off the fight with Arthur to stop the necromancer from approaching the girl.... -So there is his weakness...-


With Sigurd distracted, Dante made his move, a burst of speed taking him around the fighters to the girl in the blink of an eye.


"Sigurd... drop your weapon and surrender... I have questions for you to answer... Unless you don't care what is to happen to this one..." Dante hissed. He stood behind Eliza now, the blade of a dagger pressed against her throat, another pressed to the base of her spine, keeping her off balance such that any attempt to move could very well prove fatal. He leaned close to her ear, speaking so only she can hear... "Eliza.. it's Dante... You're in no danger, but this is the best chance of stopping this fight and getting some serious answers..." he murmured.


You see.... Dante had traveled much in the course of his young life. He had met Arthur when the late King needed mercenaries for a particularly hairy job. And he had befriended Eliza and a pre-evil Sigurd on his travels while working as a mercenary... Sometimes, it seems, it paid to have no place to call home...


@Celemyvel @Sinisters

 

[RagingNoodle]

Jackson only allowed Imp to keep his blade on his throat for a second before slapping it away with his staff taking a step back. His eyes flashed with curiosity and anger. How dare this blood thirsty insect lift his weapon menacingly against him! But that all disappeared with another look of the girl. "nice to meet you ma'lady im Jackson the necromancer" he flashed her a friendly smile. "From your reaction i take it you know her Sir Imp, i meant no disrespect" he said with a playful smile. "its just" He said taking on a serious tone and locking eyes with her. "shes beautiful, i dare said the most beautiful girl ive ever seen" He looked away from her remembering his appearance. Red eyes, pale skin, and holding a glowing staff. Perhaps i let my emotions cloud my judgment. He felt a bit foolish talking about beauty. But something kept him from turning away. He was willing to fight this renowned assassin for the privilege of talking to this girl. This one girl. Dam what the blazes is this feeling He stood there only a few feet away from Imp and the girl.

 

[RagingNoodle]

But before jackson could do anything dante went behind the girl and began threatening Imp. "Oh Dante was it please release the girl unless you want to suffer the pain of a thousand undead corpses ripping you flesh from you bones !" Jackson's mind had become completely clouded with anger. I will kill this bastard for touch her.


@One Mean Ghost @Celemyvel @Sinisters

 

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

Sigurd growled venomously at the necromancer. But then the second masked man was suddenly behind him, holding Eliza. Sigurd's cold gaze faltered. Not fair. He looked at the man behind her. Of course. He had suspected when he heard the nicknames. Dante. So he was indeed somehow still alive. Sigurd would have to punish his informant for false information.


"Sigurd... drop your weapon and surrender... I have questions for you to answer... Unless you don't care what is to happen to this one..." Dante hissed.


Sigurd hissed. "This isn't fair." His voice held a tone of pleading.


"Oh Dante was it please release the girl unless you want to suffer the pain of a thousand undead corpses ripping you flesh from you bones !" The necromancer threatened.


Sigurd whirled back on him. "What did I say, wretch? Don't dare look at her." He turned back and looked at Dante. He couldn't meet Eliza's eyes. He wasn't prepared to do such a thing.


"Dante." He said lowly, his sharp gaze regained in his glowing orange-gold eyes. He was still shocked at this whole reunion. It wasn't fair! He was so close! So close to the embrace of eternal darkness. But her light tugged him back. But Dante wouldn't budge, only adjusted the knife at her throat.


Sigurd swore loudly, his whole aura of intimidation defeated. He glared at Jackson, daring him to try to interrupt business he had no reason to interfere with. "You are only a by stander. Don't try anything stupid. This is between the three of us, you hear? Or the four of us." He glanced at Arthur. "Once we've ended what we started, then you can have your fun." He looked at the rest gathered in warning. Finally, he looked back at Dante and grudgingly threw his blades on the roof. "What are your questions, Shadow of Death?"

 

[One Mean Ghost]

Dante watched the necromancer, his eyes cold, unfeeling, emotionless. "If you even attempt anything at this point, I will end her life, and I will be certain to destroy her body so that it will be beyond the reach of your magic." He remarks icily, his gaze shifting to Sigurd when he dropped his weapons.


"Arthur, stay your hand until I've gotten what I need from him. You can resume your conflict after if you still feel the need..." His gaze never left the disarmed man, however.


"I would like for you to answer these questions first, just so I can see how far you've really fallen... First, what part did you really play in the murder of Arthur's family? Was it truly your hand that took the life of his wife and child? I want the truth, Sigurd..." His grip on his daggers did not waver. The cost of lying was heavily implied. Of course, only Dante and Eliza were aware that she was in no actual danger from him...


@XxLuluxX @Celemyvel @RagingNoodle @Sinisters

 

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

Sigurd restrained himself from launching himself at Dante in order to pry Eliza away from immediate danger. Luck had finally ran out for him. His jaw clenched as a wave of pain seized his whole body, amplified by his stress. After a few deep breaths, his hazy gaze returned to Dante's unfriendly one. Not that Sigurd could be offended by being treated coldly by his past comrade, if friend.


"I would like for you to answer these questions first, just so I can see how far you've really fallen... First, what part did you really play in the murder of Arthur's family? Was it truly your hand that took the life of his wife and child? I want the truth, Sigurd..." Dante made it clear he would not accept anything otherwise.


Sigurd narrowed his eyes. He didn't want people to know him. He didn't want to tarnish the dark reputation he worked so hard at. He didn't want to break down the corrupt walls that embraced his mind. He didn't want to admit it. He looked side long at Arthur. But this was for her.


"I didn't kill the boy. I told them not to. I told the others to leave the woman and child alone, but the fools held no respect to staying strictly to the contract. I killed his wife though, out of mercy. I killed her swiftly, painlessly before they could lay their grubby hands all over her bare body. I do not kill women and children. They are jewels of life that shine better in life. Innocent, oblivious life. But I made an exception to save that woman from her soul being ravaged and murdered anyways. They got back at me by getting the boy. But I might as well have killed him myself, not that they would let him get away alive." His eyes met Arthur's. "But make no mistake." He looked back at Dante, a cold smile on his face. "I stayed with the contract. I killed the king and the rest of my comrades to silence the disobedient wretches. I did as I was hired to do." He cared not if the people on the ground heard him. It was too late to redeem himself for Eliza.

 

[RagingNoodle]

"I'll do as i please sir imp and oh how noble of you " Jackson interrupted. "Honestly i haven't known you for more than a few hours and i already feel like that isn't the whole truth, What about the whole mess with Albert's daughter ? she was a women and from what you were saying you didn't kill her but instead ruined her life" He lowered his staff in an attempt to Show Dante he wasn't going to do anything so long as he held the girl. "why do i feel like your still hiding something assassin" He probably should have kept his nose out of this one but the way that bloody insect had talked to him and denied him from talking to this goddess. It just pissed him off.


He wanted to help the girl but knew better then to risk her safety. This man .. Dante he looked like a man who wasn't afraid to keep his word. Even when it involves hurting hostages. "i wont try anything just dont hurt her"

 

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

Sigurd's eyes slid slowly to the necromancer. He took back his comment from before, he despised necromancers, the foolish creatures who couldn't keep their mouths shut. He smirked at the man. "Are you asking for advise on women or are you trying to bury me deeper than what I have already done to myself?" His blazing eyes threatening. "Thank you very much for pointing out the obvious of what I'm most known for. But the wench had it coming. Two sides to every story, as they say. And that story will not be told tonight. It doesn't have to do with this trial." He looked at the group. He wouldn't get out of this mess alive if he didn't think something up fast. He swung his head back to Dante and Eliza, though he now fully refused to grace himself to look at her. What she must think of him, this despicable shell that dreams of beauty in his insane, corrupted way. The world had done this to him, he reminded himself, and he owed nothing to the world. But he did owe one man something. He glanced at Arthur and stood to his full height, waiting for more questions about the assassination, or foul comments called out, or even a knife between the ribs. The thought made him secretly enchant his armors strength as well as his skin to the hardness of dragon scales, making him impenetrable. For the first time in practically his life, Sigurd had a reason to live and fight, to repay what was owed and to protect what was precious. The flickering bead of light in his soul grew into a candle flame.

 

[XxLuluxX]

The Raven


No more words passed his lips. The only sound was a gruttal war cry from a man needing closure. Sigurd may of spoken about how women and children were jewels or how he would've never laid a hand on them...Yet he hungered. Hungered to spill his blood. No longer did he stop to listen. Someone needed to die. Arthur drove onward, taking hits and blocking strikes; eyes alight like a man possessed by the devil himself. The ex-commander blocked out all routes of reason, sympathy now a distant thing. All that had been left was the shell of Sir Arthur Blackthorne, rage all consuming.

 

[Atrophia Sanguinis]

Sigurd was not surprised when a blade whipped against his back. It did not cut him, but if he lived long enough, it would bruise heavily. He staggered forward a bit, groweling in pain. He looked at Dante, still holding Eliza and slowly turned to face Blackthorn, leaving his weapons on the ground. He strengthened the protection of his hands and gauntlets as he blocked Arthur's attack. Sigurd looked curiously at the man. He did not want to avenge his King with valuable information? No, no, Sigurd snarkily chided himself. The man was broken, filled with rage as sustenance.


Weak. He's weak. But you, you're strong. (*cough* Skyrim *cough*)


Sigurd clenched his jaw and visibly shook as another wave of pain washed over. He gripped his head in his hands and growled. Sigurd didn't need this, all his demons coming after him at once. But then again, how else would it happen for his sinister soul. He desperately tried to protect the fading light in his soul from the voice. Another bout of pain and he was on his knees, blood trickling from his nose. He looked up at Arthur, who was more than ready to end him. One last chance. His gaze was even, face plain. No psychological games this time. "You really think I deserve the mercy of death?" He asked honestly. "You plan to save me from my suffering?"


@XxLuluxX