lolknight

Central courtyard. (Mhaldor)

--- Area 121: Mhaldor -------

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----------- 0:4:6 -----------

A noxious, red-hued fog overwhelms the area with a thick, palpable vapour. Stalwartly protecting the courtyard from outside view, the immense walls of the fortress enclose this yard. Gravel crunches noisily underfoot, scattered before the imposing gates leading to the training grounds. Dusky brown stains are interspersed across the grey stone, proof of the intensity of the training experienced here. Crowning the walls of the fortress, painted in sharp relief against the sky, are the guard towers of the citadel. Each spire pierces the firmament, housing sentries that keep an eternal vigil, watching for disturbances both within and without. A Rajamalan woman has been nailed upon a ridged, blood-stained cross and left to perish. A runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. A stone fountain of dark fluid murmurs quietly. A dark granite statue of Lord Kaelin, of The Maldaathi casts its forbidding shadow upon the area. A sewer grate looms darkly beneath your feet. There are 2 beleaguered slaves here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. There are 5 infernal wraiths here. Nearly indiscernible in the shadows, a majestic peryton stands stoically here. Nose held snootily in the air, a magnificent sheepdog stands here.  Sir Vadimuses Xanatov is here. Lady Kitarel Ar'kena, Overseer of Prosperity is here. She wields a duelist's shield of polished steel and gold in her left hand. The Green Dragon Kelandra's imposing form looms. Executor Trey Adwimar, Squire of Xenomorph is here. Blade Prefect Katzchen Xanatov, Squire of Mhaldor is here. She wields an ornate steel rapier in each hand. Tormented Huo is here. Benedominatus Ethos De'Unnero is here. Father Carmain Fol'ia, Messiah of the Damned is here. He wields a wicked-looking daegger in his left hand and a blackened cavalry shield with ivory accents in his right. Phaestus, the Smith is here, the air about Him hazy with the intense heat of the forge. He wields a blacksmith's hammer in His right hand. Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade is here, shrouded.

You see exits leading north, northeast, east, southeast, south, southwest, west, northwest, and down.

 

Katzchen's blackened hand leaves a faint trail of ash as she performs a formal salute.

 

Tirac bows respectfully to Katzchen.

 

Nizaris bows respectfully to Phaestus.

 

Huo bows respectfully to Phaestus.

 

Jurixe bows her head slightly to Phaestus.

 

Carmain inclines his head politely at Phaestus.

 

Daemonic howls precede the appearance of the Horned God before you.

 

Tirac kneels before Shaitan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

 

Nizaris bows respectfully to Shaitan.

 

You kneel before Shaitan, swearing your allegiance to Him.

 

Katzchen kneels before Shaitan, swearing her allegiance to Him.

 

Kelandra kneels before Shaitan, swearing her allegiance to Him.

 

Phaestus inclines His head politely at Shaitan.

 

Nizaris kneels before Shaitan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

 

Huo kneels before Shaitan, swearing her allegiance to Him.

 

Ethos kneels before Shaitan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

 

Trey kneels before Shaitan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

 

Vadimuses kneels before Shaitan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

 

Shava arrives from the south.

 

With a flourish of his arm, Shava bows deeply.

 

Cahin kneels before Shaitan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

 

Shaitan inclines His massive head in acknowledgement, His curved horns dipping slightly.

 

Shava kneels before Shaitan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

 

Tirac stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

 

Katzchen stands up and stretches her arms out wide.

 

Cahin stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

 

Trey stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

 

You stand up and stretch your arms out wide.

 

Shava stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

 

Tirac nods his head in greeting to the assembled congregation.

 

Carmain bows respectfully to Shaitan.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Greetings, Mhaldor."

 

Ethos stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

 

Huo stands up and stretches her arms out wide.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "We gather in dark times. It need not be said, for every one of us knows it as truth."

 

Tirac gazes over the battlements and makes a sweeping gesture with his arm.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "The meek and unfaithful have fled our walls, our harsh way of life beyond the threshold of their softer morals, betraying our trust and leaving our ranks fewer and leaner."

 

Vadimuses stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

 

Tirac raises his arms outwards and holds an outstretched palm aloft, calling upon his necromantic essence to extinguish the light from around the congregation.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Slavering dogs from the Eastern Ithmia and aimless mercenaries from the northern Bastion hound our gates, braying against the last vestiges of civilization. The idle hands of the Northern Ithmias escape our ire, and the East remains an ever present threat."

 

A thick fog rolls in over the walls, driven by a howling wind and leaving a chill in the darkened courtyard.

 

Tirac turns back towards the gathered citizens, fixing them with an intent stare, outstretching his arms towards the dark mist surrounding them.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Truly, we are beset upon at all sides."

 

Tirac draws his sword and carves a pentagram into the ground at his feet, before planting the sword upright in the center of the symbol.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "But hope remains."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Perseverance remains."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Discipline remains."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "For one hundred years I have stood guard upon the walls of the Baelgrim Fortress, and for two hundred years before me, the Maldaathi have kept watch over the city gifted to us by Lord Sartan himself. Mhaldor, our fortress, our home."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "And at the head of the Maldaathi stand tall the brotherhood of Knights. A pillar of Evil. A paragon of Suffering and Oppression."

 

Tirac clenches his fist tightly around the hilt of the sword in the ground.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "I am here to tell you that while the Maldaathi Knights breathe, the Seven Truths shall never die, shall never relent."

 

Tirac gestures towards the dark fog swirling about the courtyard, the wind causing it to billow about the walls.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "For this night is of our making, and the fog is our red. And it is in the darkest of times that Mhaldor flourishes. Cast of those who would join us in fair weather, we devout will endure. We will maintain vigil. We will persevere."

 

The fiery pentagram suddenly alights in fire as Tirac draw his sword from the ground. The blade catches flame and tongues of fire lick at the wind and mist as the light is cast about the courtyard.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "And yes. Hope, too."

 

Tirac raises an arm in the direction of Executor Trey Adwimar, Squire of Xenomorph.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "For today, a Squire of the Maldaathi will die, and a Knight will be born from his ashes."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "No average man or woman can survive the trials to attain the rank of Knight. It is an honor and privilege reserved for the most dedicated."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Know this, Mhaldor. Great men are not born from bright days. They are born of hardship and suffering, from steel and from fire."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "It was not from prosperity and comfort that Mhaldor rose. It was not from abundance and peace that her citizens grew."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "It is in the darkest times, when we are beset upon at all sides, when we are the few and the heroic..."

 

Tirac lowers his voice to a near whisper.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "...that we -thrive-."

 

A small gremlin appears, negligently throws a rolled up letter at Rakon, then disappears in a puff of acrid smoke.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Squire Trey, you have walked the path to Knighthood. You have faced weakness and fear, and eradicated them. You have faced hardship and endured. You have faced fire and walked through it."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "If you have any words to say to your brothers, speak them now."

 

A small gremlin appears, negligently throws a rolled up letter at Rakon, then disappears in a puff of acrid smoke.

 

Resolve flashing in his eyes, Trey glances momentarily to each side, meeting gazes with all attended before speaking.

 

A small gremlin appears, negligently throws a rolled up letter at Rakon, then disappears in a puff of acrid smoke.

 

Guttural songs of unholy worship waft and wind throughout Mhaldor as the daemonic chorus is heard rehearsing from the Cathedral.

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "It is true of what Sir Tirac speaks. The false, the weak, the wavering souls have departed Mhaldor, leaving our number somewhat diminished of late. The ones who were measured and did not find themselves suited for their duties at hand."

 

A small gremlin appears, negligently throws a rolled up letter at Rakon, then disappears in a puff of acrid smoke.

 

A small gremlin appears, negligently throws a rolled up letter at Rakon, then disappears in a puff of acrid smoke.

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "But those who remain, those souls who decry their worthiness to our cause, who show loyalty where it is owed, prove that we will persevere and stand tall, the meek and false crushed beneath our boots."

 

Silver sparks dance across the heavens as the afternoon sun brushes a graceful hand over Achaea's three rings, the second brilliantly coruscating under her touch.

 

A small gremlin appears, negligently throws a rolled up letter at Rakon, then disappears in a puff of acrid smoke.

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "It is also true that the path of the righteous is beset on all

sides, and I am not the only one of our number who has traveled through fire and borne the brunt of steel. Of fire and steel, we know many things. And in service to the Truths our enemies shall know them too."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "I stand proud, as the rest of you should, in service and in Strength."

 

A small gremlin appears, negligently throws a rolled up letter at Rakon, then disappears in a puff of acrid smoke.

 

Tirac gives a nod of approval and raises the flaming blade between himself and Trey.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Squire Trey, kneel within the pentagram and swear the Maldaathi Oath of Knighthood. Repeat after me:."

 

(Whiners Anonymous): Rakon says, "Fuck, I feel like a tree. All this paper."

 

Trey kneels onto one knee, demonstrating his humility and respect.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "I am Maldaathi."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "I am Maldaathi."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Knight of the Seven Truths."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Knight of the Seven Truths."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Pillar of Evil."

 

A small gremlin appears, negligently throws a rolled up letter at Rakon, then disappears in a puff of acrid smoke.

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Pillar of Evil."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Paragon of Suffering."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Paragon of Suffering."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Pinnacle of Oppression."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Pinnacle of Oppression."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Enemy of weakness, tolerance, forgiveness, and laxity."

 

Trey says forcefully with a lilting accent, "Enemy of weakness, tolerance, forgiveness and laxity."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "From this day forth I shall never relent in my service to Evil."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "From this day forth I shall never relent in my service to Evil."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "For Lord Shaitan and Lord Apollyon, I forsake my eternal soul."

 

A small gremlin appears, negligently throws a rolled up letter at Rakon, then disappears in a puff of acrid smoke.

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "For Lord Shaitan and Lord Apollyon, I forsake my eternal soul."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "And none shall stand between me and the advancement of the Lords' will."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "And none shall stand between me and the advancement of the Lords' will."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Fear is my strength."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Fear is my strength."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Evil is my lawgiver."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Evil is my lawgiver."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Over humility will I cast out my shoe."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Over humility will I cast out my shoe."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Over righteousness will I triumph."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Over righteousness will I triumph."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "As one man, I shall chase a thousand."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "As one man, I shall chase a thousand."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "And by my hand, atrocity shall overtake the world and all shall walk in fear."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "And by my hand, atrocity shall overtake the world, and all shall walk in fear."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Vindico per Malum, Reus per Veneratio."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Vindico per Malum, Reus per Veneratio."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "I accept the mantle of a Maldaathi Knight, and swear loyalty to my brothers in the Maldaathi and to the city of Mhaldor."

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "I accept the mantle of a Maldaathi Knight, and swear loyalty to my brothers in the Maldaathi and to the City of Mhaldor."

 

Tirac steps forth, raising the flaming sword to Trey's right shoulder.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Of fire is your craft, blacksmith. Through fire have you passed, Squire. And by fire do I dub thee, Knight."

 

Tirac raises the blade to Trey's left shoulder, leaving a faint scorch marks.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Sir Trey Adwimar, Knight of Mhaldor."

 

A sharp ring resounds throughout the courtyard as the knights and the guards of the city draw their swords in salute.

 

Dusk steals silently over the horizon and crimson and ochre engulf the firmament, their seductive tones beckoning the sun to her nightly repose.

 

Sarynn draws an ornate steel rapier from a dark maroon scabbard in a crisp salute.

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Stand, Sir Trey. Today marks the end of your training. But today marks the beginning of your duties as a Maldaathi Knight, brother. You stand among those that give us reason to hope, and may you never let us down."

 

Tirac gives Trey a respectful salute.

 

Trey stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

 

Trey gives Tirac a respectful salute.

 

Shaitan, the Horned God says, "You have been reforged by My Truths, leaving a true warrior of Evil. Weakness, compassion, and fear.. these impurities have been burned away leaving only your primal purpose, domination of the weak, and destruction of the unworthy. Walk in strength, Sir Trey."

 

Rakon gives Trey a respectful salute.

 

Vadimuses gives Trey a respectful salute.

 

Rakon says in Mhaldorian in a harsh, reptilian voice, "Sir Trey."

 

Katzchen gives Trey a respectful salute.

 

Sarapis appears out of thin air.

 

Phaestus nods His approval.

 

Sarapis, the Logos says in Mhaldorian, "Well done, Sir Trey."

 

Kelandra gives Trey a respectful salute.

 

Rakon says to Trey in Mhaldorian in a harsh, reptilian voice, "Your path to achievement has seen you from Hashan to the house of Maldaathi and as such, the house presents you with a token of your station."

 

Rakon gives a knight’s heavy sable cloak to Trey.

 

Rakon says to Trey in Mhaldorian in a harsh, reptilian voice, "Wear it proudly, and may it always be coated in blood for our Masters."

 

The forge fires of the world sputter, then belch forth a stream of noxious red smoke as they burn with renewed intensity, heralding the rise of a new knight-smith in Mhaldor.

 

(LOOK TREY)

He is a graceful tsol'aa and is of middling height and athletic build for his race.  Tousled hair of raven black reaches the level of his chin and has been tucked back behind his slightly pointed ears, although errant strands have escaped to drape over his face.  A single braid rests tucked behind his right ear, a snowy white feather woven within.  He is far from unattractive, his features pronounced and smooth save for a neatly trimmed goatee.  He holds himself with anair of confidence, his azure eyes shining alertly as he observes his surroundings.  His light complexion is marred only by a few minute burn marks, the rough pinkish color contrasting greatly with his skin.  His arms are muscled, though not overly so, and several more burns resembling those on his face adorn them, along with faint scars from the cuts of battles long past.  His hands are slightly calloused, the sign of both a warrior and a laborer.  A particularly stark-white burn scar adorns the back of each of his hands, resembling nothing so much as the tip of a blade. He walks with the truefavour of Shaitan. He walks with the truefavour of Sarapis. He walks with the truefavour of Phaestus.

He is wearing:

 a steel pauldron,

 a dragonskin pack,

 2 Sartanic scabbards,

 fingerless gloves of supple silver-grey suede,

 an obsidian and ivory headhunter's medal,

 a sleek formal tunic of charcoal silk,

 a knights surcoat of sable leather,

 tooled black boots with a silver-grey cuff,

 pressed trousers of charcoal-grey wool, and

 a silver-grey belt with a crossed scimitar buckle

 

Trey says to Rakon with a lilting accent, "I will do so with pride. Thank you."

 

Trey turns his gaze about the courtyard.

 

Thousands of points of light illuminate the heavens as the pale moon awakens, darkness smoothly descending over the land.

 

Rakon gives the world a smart salute.

 

A great weight seems to have been lifted from Kelandra.

 

Kelandra takes some balm from a vial and rubs it on her skin.

 

Sarapis bows respectfully to Trey.

 

Sarapis wraps Himself in His flowing grey robes, and is gone.

 

Trey says with a lilting accent, "Thank you all. I will not falter, nor will the weak and

uninitiated know much rest."

 

Sir Tirac Vastel, Champion of the Blade says, "Go in strength, Sir Trey. Thank you for attending, Mhaldor and distinguished guests."

 

Sarynn suddenly loses the fury in her eyes.

 

The ambient temperature abruptly cools as the Dwarf Lord vanishes, engulfed in hissing steam.

 

Daemonic Cleric Kelandra Lichlord says to Trey, "Congratulations, Sir. Well done."

 

(LOOK SHAITAN)

He is a radiant immortal and is massive, easily twice the height of an average man and with the girth to match. Though bare-chested, His hardened skin appears as impenetrable as any armour, stained a deep red with the strange, glistening smoothness of a healed-over scar. Ropes of sinew twine around His muscular arms. Two stout horns protrude above His brow, curving out, then upwards for several feet before terminating in wicked points. Beneath the horns, pitiless black orbs serve for eyes, the flames of Hell flickering within their depths. His craggy features carry a touch of the bestial.

He is wearing:

 midnight-black leather breeches, and

 bloodsteel leg greaves

 

Vaim tells you in Mhaldorian, "Wow that was intense. Does that happen every time someone is raised to Knighthood?"

 

Shava kneels before Shaitan, swearing his allegiance to Him.

 

Shava stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

 

Shaitan, the Horned God says, "Serve well, Knight."

 

Shava bows to those assembled.

 

A jagged tear leading into a black void rips open in the fabric of reality, edged with flames. The Lord of Oppression strides away into its depths.

 

Shava leaves to the south.

 

You tell Naga Vaim a'Rang, Caustic Lash in Mhaldorian, "This is the first Knighting I have attended in my life, so I cannot say."

 

You tell Naga Vaim a'Rang, Caustic Lash in Mhaldorian, "But yes, twas indeed."

 

Kitarel says to Trey in a soft voice, "I can finally toss aside Squire."

 

Sarynn gives the world a smart salute.

 

Trey gives the world a smart salute.

 

Trey takes a drink from a stygian vial.

 

Trey's eyes sparkle with amusement at Kitarel.

 

Jurixe raises a pale hand to her forehead slowly in something resembling an awkward

attempt at a salute towards Trey.

 

Tirac gives the world a smart salute.

 

Sir Vadimuses Xanatov says to Trey, "Serve well, Sir Trey. It is your time."

 

Kelandra leaves, following Tirac.

Eerily melting into the shadows, an ashen peryton canters out to the south.

 

Vadimuses gives Trey a respectful salute.

 

Trey says to Vadimuses with a lilting accent, "I will, Sir."

 

Trey gives Vadimuses a respectful salute.

 

You say to Trey in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "Congratulations, Sir Trey."

 

Vadimuses puts on a pair of atavian wings.

 

Sir Vadimuses Xanatov says in Mhaldorian, "Duanathar."

Vadimuses is swiftly carried into the skies and out of sight by a pair of atavian wings.

 

Katzchen's blackened hand leaves a faint trail of ash as she acknowledges Trey with a formal salute.

 

Katzchen leaves to the south.

 

 

Nizaris's blackened hand leaves a faint trail of ash as he acknowledges Trey with a formal salute.

 

Trey says to you with a lilting accent, "Thank you, Naga Jurixe."

 

Tormented Huo says to Trey, "Congratulations, Sir."