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The Formorian Royal Family; Venicci Formor, Lord Valeron Formor and Ebil
Tweet Topic Started: Apr 12 2013, 11:05 PM (415 Views)
Venicci Formor Apr 12 2013, 11:05 PM Post #1
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Background Information Post

The green text that follows is more or less information as to the setting and some of the general plot.

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This information is also in the topic names and descriptions of various places staring in Malina, but here is a more concise version:

• Malina

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-Malina is a large island located to the southwest off the coast of Arendor’s coastal port across the Corran Strait. This island is a notorious safe haven for pirates, and is dominantly populated by humans. There are many other races seeded throughout however, which plays into a huge defining factor of this society-the utter lack of racial discrimination, much unlike many other places mainland. This is perhaps due to the general nature of many who occupy this particular area, and that it is a central trading hub for various countries surrounding. Malina has quite a few rich trading ports, as well as innumerable islands, sand bars, coves and underlying sea structures in the waters around the main island.

• Malina (City)

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-The major port off the eastern side of the island

• Siren's Trench


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-This area is due north of Malina, and is a 60-mile stretch of jagged rock faces and underwater sea structures located in the south portion of the Corran Strait. This also leaves it protected on all sides from surrounding oceans. This is a highly avoided portion of the sea, merely due to its unforgiving and dangerous waters. It has captured thousands of ships, which were either lost to storms or too daring for their own good.

The area ranges from shallow waters with many visible and hidden rock formations, to deep ravines diving abysmally into the ocean floor. What structures are visible are generally steep and jagged crags that rise sharply from the waters, forming impenetrable shells to protect the inner reaches. The reachable patches of land that do exist are generally barren and lacking in any large amounts of life, save for the creatures of the sea and sky.

What makes this area perhaps the most perilous of all is in that of its namesake. Siren's Trench holds legends of dark tales, speaking of many a sailor, his ship and crew becoming victim to the Siren’s call, having been lured to their deaths within the murky waters. Some stories even go further to speak of even more deep-rooted evils, those that linger far deeper in the dark frigid depths.

Few dare to brave the depths of Siren’s Trench, and for good reason.


• Avienna (General Area)

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-This is the more formal name for “Siren’s Trench,” used only by those who reside there. Avienna itself covers not only the visible area of the surface, but an intricate network of underwater and underground caverns that branch out to all the surrounding islands, as well as deep down into the subterranean city Netherrack, far beneath the ocean floor.

• Avienna (Main Surface Island)


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The main island of Avienna (Siren's Trench) is situated deep in the center of the surrounding islands and sea structures. The outer portion of the island is walled in on all sides by tall rock faces, some reaching high up and disappearing into the clouds. The island itself has an interior portion that is vegetated and somewhat tropical in climate, but the walls obscure most of the light coming in to the area, much of the life living there producing their own unique and colorful bioluminescence.

• Netherrack (Subterranean Area Beneath Avienna)


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(For those familiar, imagine Blackreach from Skyrim).

Netherrack is the subterranean city located far beneath Avienna. This underground network not only encompasses the area beneath Avienna itself, but also tunnels the entire way to both Malina and the mainland of Arendor, populated mostly by Mythicals and a very select few of the mortal races.

• Dawne (Main City of Netherrack)


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-Dawne (ironically named) is the main city of Netherrack, constructed in a huge cavern with adjoining passageways to other portions of this subterranean world. Most all of the structures within have been created using the dark onyx stone common in these lower layers of the Earth’s crust, as well as a luminescent stone called arycite (coming in a wide range of colors and degrees of brightness) that resides in thin veins throughout the rocky depths.

• Blackfall Palace


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- The Blackfall Palace is the home of the Formorian Royal Court. They and their allies are notably one of the most powerful forces in the surrounding lands, having banded together against the humans and elves who settled along the southern shores of Arendor.

Legend has it that the mythicals and various other races were forcibly driven from these homelands above-ground two centuries ago by the settlers, sending the two sides into a deep and bloody feud thereafter.


The Formors, as they have named themselves, are waging war against those who occupy the mainland, trying to take back the land that belonged to their ancestors, (and those who have lived long enough through the centuries to remember) and avenge their loss. They consist of hundreds of different races, from gnolls to vampires, goblins, kobolds, sirens, merpeople, dragons, certain races of elves, dwarves, humans, and many many others.








The beginning of Venicci and Ebil.
Edited by Venicci Formor, Jun 5 2013, 04:01 PM.
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Venicci Formor Apr 13 2013, 12:34 AM Post #2
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Post 6-5-13 Venicci first post (edit)



Venicci’s eyes fluttered open to a dim room. She could feel the soft sheets of a bed beneath her, and a warm blanket drawn over her form. Rich, silken fabric hung in sheets from the canopy of the bed and a soft, sweet scent of flora drifted through the room. The girl slowly blinked her violet eyes, now becoming aware of an aching in her body.

She felt warm. Too warm. Although perhaps that was not so much of a surprise. Her flesh was cool to the touch for most, though she never personally noticed. In fact, she felt more comfortable in frigid temperatures than she could ever be anywhere else. She supposed that she could attribute that to her mother. Halfling or not, the blood of a siren was accustomed to icy ocean waters, and she had been no exception.
This had always proven problematic in most cases, however. Perhaps not here, deep down in subterranean Netherrack, miles beneath the ocean, nor when she was bound to the waters of the sea, but travel over land beneath the sun was tedious and moreover uncomfortable without enchantment.

Venicci allowed her eyes to trail along the stone ceiling high above, intricate patterns spiraling out from the center, lined with a blue-hued spindle of arycite. Even when she was young, she had always been fascinated by the luminescent stone. Arycite was common to the point of normalcy in the underground city, ranging in a wide variety of fluorescent colors as well as degrees of luminescence; some giving off enough light to brighten an entire room, and some just enough to stand out against a dark wall.

When she was small, her father had showered her with hundreds upon hundreds of these stones. Perhaps it was his attempt at providing something material for her to keep of him. He knew that he could not be with her to be the father that she so desperately craved, and perhaps it had been a roundabout way to show that he was still there with her. It had been cute, as she thought back. That love had always continued to glow just as brightly as the stones that lined the shelves of her room.

Thinking back, she remembered him being gone quite often. He would disappear for weeks and even months at a time on military business, or matters of the court to visit distant lands, or to coordinate armies and organize events. He was Lord Valeron Formor, the commander, and moreover, High Ruler of the Formors, the crown and Formorian name having been passed down to him through the legacy of the Formorian leaders from generations upon generations before.
In fact, he had held the seat over the Formors for what had now been nearly a century, not to mention his time spent before as part of the Royal Court and Ambassador to the Underworld.

Thus, she had realized that long ago, and eventually learned to accept, that her father would not always be there, even if that were most of the time.



Though, always, even after the longest of leaves, he would take the time to return to her.
When she was but a child, she would wait at the gates of the palace, watching on tip toes over the stone wall of the garden for his procession to cross over the bridge. How the excitement would bubble over, just as the doors began to open and his tall armored form appeared in a silhouette against the shining lights. The sound of metal banging and clinking together as iron-clad horses crossed over the stone ground and flags fluttered from carried poles, their crimson Formorian emblem casting a striking contrast against the black fabric. How she would clamber up over the wall in her little dress and bare feet, blue-hued hair and purple ribbons flying wildly about her body as she scampered across the courtyard to meet them.

There, he would smile upon her sight, pulling the silver helm from his head. It was a smile that had not only begun at his lips, but spread upward, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and a certain warmth playing behind his golden-amber irises. She would leap into his arms, he would pull her in to his chest, and she would feel safe. She would feel exuberance, warmth, and most of all love. “I missed you, daddy,” she would say in her small voice, and in turn, just like always, he would murmur, “..and I missed you, my beautiful little siren..”


Breathing softly, Venicci brought herself back to the present and slowly pushed herself up off the white silken sheets. She vaguely recalled last night’s events once she had managed to drag herself into the shallow shores of Avienna. After her escape from Hoarfrost, she had somehow made it to the ocean, and then also managed to transverse across the seas, and to the rocky crags of the Trench. She did not remember how.

From there her memory faded in and out, with panicked voices and rushing figures. Somehow she ended up in her father’s arms, cradled against his chest just like she did years and years ago. Her memory was choppy, and she was not even sure that all that transpired had been within her mind or without. “..my siren.. my little siren..” the voice had faded in and out “..you have come home.. my beautiful.. I thought I lost.. we searched.. ..so long.. I thought.. ..lost.. gone.. never again.. you are safe.. you are safe now.. never.. again.. my siren.. I will protect you.. I promise.. Venicci..”


She rubbed at her face with a snowy pale hand, the soft sleeve of her thin green shift fluttering and shimmering at the movement. How long had she really been gone? She remembered, but it felt both just a few days ago, and at the same time, as if centuries had passed. She had gone off on her own, just as always. And, as always, she had done it very much without her father’s knowledge.


It had made perfect sense. Sneak around to the north through the ice caves to set an ambush for Rocheste’s Royal Guard, who were traveling just miles south of the icy crags. Intercept the message. Return to Avienna with important information about the Guard’s military position. At least, that had been the plan. Unfortunately, she had not taken into account those who resided within the caverns. Kobolds, yes. She could have dealt with that. However, the route that she had taken had been up through from the depths. Vennici had not been prepared for what lay deeper within those dark recesses.

Taking a slow breath, she ran her hands through her short-cropped hair, as her elbows rested against her knees. She had been stupid. She had been ignorant of a very clear threat. A threat that her years of training should have prevented and completely eliminated any possibility of even happening. In all truth, she should be dead right now, at the complete and total mercy of the monstrosities that roamed the dark icy caverns. And her death would have been all at the cost of those who loved and cared for her.

Edited by Arya Lumen, Jul 1 2013, 10:19 AM.
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Lord Valeron Formor Apr 14 2013, 05:24 PM Post #3
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A Note to My Readers

Tip: Read this as if you were reading a book, a book that you can put down with a bookmark if you have something to do, or want to take a break. Try not to think of it as this gigantic post that you really want to finish reading so that you can get to the part where you get to write and spill out all your own thoughts. Read it slowly, piece by piece while taking your time, not keeping in mind that you want to write a reply. Pretend it is the mere first chapter of a book~ <3

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Lord Valeron sat upon the stone chair at the head of the Great Hall’s lengthy table, his pale fingertips forming a sharp peak from where his elbows rested upon it's surface. He was a tall man, his height towering over most of the crowded communion’s heads. His golden amber eyes looked out through two curtains of silky raven-black hair that cascaded far down past his shoulders to his waist.

There was a hushed silence over the many bodies that lined both sides of the hall, breath seeming to be held for the information that he was about to divulge. In truth, he was seething inside, which made it very, very difficult to retain his human form. He was an Incubus, and further beyond that, he was very old, which made him, in turn, rather powerful. He was very modest in his abilities, and further, most all in attendance before him did not know a fraction of his true potential. However, he himself knew that any breach in his composure now could easily render all those present into a lake of crimson upon the dark granite floor.


Taking a slow breath, he closed his eyes, drifting back to events of the previous night. Alerts from sentries had come in reporting a breach in the surface perimeter of their territory Avienna. In truth, that perimeter, especially the over subterranean area of Netherrack technically spanned over a much more vast area of land than the small cluster of islands on the surface. In fact, it covered most all of the Corran Strait, so entry and travel by foreign ships was commonplace in their more northern waters. However, this particular invader had continued in a bee-line at incredible speed directly toward the central islands of Avienna.

It was not until this foreign being came within 40 miles of landing that he had sent for troops to stand guard at the eastern shores, in case it continued into their main territory. The rate of its progress had sent panic through the front lines. It was clear that whatever it was knew exactly where it was going, and had evaded the many traps and magical barriers as if they were not even there. By the time it finally reached within eyesight the shores, they had sent for Valeron himself to come above to help intercept it. It was clearly alone and was some sort of aquatic creature that had a terribly uncanny understanding of the hundreds of obstacles between the outside world and their inner sanctuary. Not even his men who regularly patrolled the borders knew everything that lay waiting beneath the waters, much less the hundreds of counter spells and incantations in which to disable them. Whatever it was had begun to instill fear into his own mind, for fear of his people’s safety.




However, as it began to near, he noticed a certain exhausted desperation as it moved through the water with a fatigued flick of pale ivory and blue.

It was then that something stirred in the back of his mind, and he had abruptly screamed for the archers and magic-users to stand down, just as he broke from his place on the shores. He had begun to sprint toward the water’s edge and into the shallows, splashing through the dark water toward the body that now lay unmoving not fifty meters out, floating in a sloshing movement from the constant batter of waves.

He could remember the sudden, raging, and uncontrollable wall of energy that had coursed through his body, the very water beneath his feet almost parting out of the way from his progress.

Valeron remembered how suddenly, despite his uncanny tendency of self-control, he could not keep control over his physical form. How in a burst of flame, his body contorted, legs, arms and torso elongating as a black shell formed over his flesh and a massive pair of dark leathery wings burst from his back, sending him faster over the water’s surface. How, black tendrils of shadow pulsed from his body, devouring the light surrounding, and suddenly, completely blocking out the sun in a giant dome covering the area in at least a mile perimeter.

He remembered in slow motion how his eyes began to widen, an overwhelming sense of sadness and despair balling up in his chest as he sighted that body floating face-down in the murky water. He remembered how thin she was, seeing her nude upper half disappear into the blue and violet scales of her nine-foot tail. How he gently scooped her limp, lifeless body up into his arms and in to his chest, her form instantly melting back into that of a human state as soon as it left the icy water. He remembered hovering there for what had felt like hours under the rhythmical beat of his wings, his golden eyes looking down upon the daughter who now lay unconscious in his arms.

His daughter whom he had loved more than his own life. His daughter, whom he had kept safe, confined and protected as she grew and matured into the beautiful creature she was today. His daughter whom he had chastised again and again for disappearing from the safety of the realm. His daughter whom, despite his constant conveyed fears, contained a never-ending thirst for adventure and most of all, ambition to make a mark on the world. To feel like she held an important purpose in their fight for justice.
This was his beautiful little girl that had disappeared nearly ten years ago. The one for whom he had exhausted and sacrificed all available resources to find. The one he had searched for night and day for months and years on end, before finally falling to the chilling reality that she had to have been dead.


This beautiful creature that he now held to his dripping wet body was the daughter who had grown under the protection of his care to be an elite and deadly warrior. But above all, this little girl was the one that he vowed to protect with his life on her mother’s deathbed, transferring all the love and devotion for his lover to the small child that they had borne together under what should have been impossible circumstances.


Valeron’s eyes had begun to fill with shadowy tears, half obscuring Venicci’s gaunt form. Her midnight blue hair stuck to her snowy pale face in thin tendrils, each and every part of her features bearing a striking resemblance to the woman who he had once loved. One that had given her very life to save the child that was growing within her womb.

The growing babe was the offspring of an Incubus and a Siren, two terribly unlikely matches. It was a child that his lover had to pour constant energy into keeping alive. Serana was a Siren, a daughter of the ice and sea, who he, a creature of air and fire had fallen madly in love with. She had been his constant companion for years into centuries, she leading the Formorian front from the oceans, and he over the land.

For years she had grieved over the idea that they could never procreate. That she would never be able to bear his child within her womb to create something that would be a part of both of them: a product of their unimaginable love.
However, that was to change. Word had come their way of an enchantress. A witch who housed herself deep within the realms of the Samarians. She promised the ability of Serana to conceive that child, but warning that it could prove fatal for both she and the baby. It took months upon months of her constant pleading for him to finally, but grudgingly agree. He could not bear to run the chance of losing her. She was his other half. A vital part of him. However, he also could not deny her what she craved so desperately.
It was a difficult time, their two bloods waging a continuous war to destroy the other, just inside her body. However, she held strong, grueling through the beginning process of the miracle.



It was not to be. Weaker and weaker the woman grew, sending him further into the pain of a true realization: Serana knew that she would not survive this. She knew in entirety, but yet she continued to pour each and every last bit of energy into the baby in which she undoubtedly loved.

He watched powerlessly as her suffering grew, as the enchantment to keep the baby alive consumed her body. The last he saw of her beautiful violet eyes was when she lay in a pool of her own blood, having labored to birth the little girl that she now held against her chest, her ragged breathing becoming weaker and weaker as she pressed her lips to their child’s brow. That last whisper he ever heard, as she weakly exhaled her very last breath, would burn into his mind for centuries to come: “..I love you, my Incubus.”

There in his arms, 25 years later, he had now held that same girl whom he and her mother had devoted every last ounce of love into. He held Serana’s life, and thus, that of Venicci's, which in turn was something that he could never replace: her devotion to him.

Right then and there, vowed never to lose her again.
Edited by Venicci Formor, Jun 4 2013, 06:00 PM.
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Lord Valeron Formor Apr 14 2013, 05:28 PM Post #4
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Lord Valeron returned to the matter at hand, to those who had attended the meeting he had called not a few hours before.

He knew, just as he always knew, that he could not always be there to protect her, which killed him more than anything else. As high ruler over the Formorian alliance, he had a duty to not only the crown, but to his military and above all, his people.

The lives of thousands were in his very hands, and protected by the decisions, power, efforts and military strategy that he had employed for going on centuries. His people trusted him, and believed that he would one day lead them to the land of the light that they had been driven from so long ago.

He also had duties as a father, and duties as a king, neither of which he could give to fully without sacrificing a piece of the other. However, he knew that the Formorian efforts, once they succeeded, would lay promise to a place where he could be that father. He would not have to live in constant fear that the humans would lay siege to his home, and kill those he cared about. He would have a place for them to live. For her to live.
What needed to done now was to take care of the present problem.


Taking a breath, he opened his eyes, looking out over representatives from each and every creature and people that the Formorian alliance had gained the trust of. Of course there would be politics seeded into this seemingly simple choice. He had not been fool enough not to consider that. The daughter of the Formorian High Ruler needed a bodyguard, and if he were to happen choose one particular race over another (whether or not he was choosing whomever or whatever was best fit for the job), he would send out a sense of unrest, causing whispers that he favored some over the others. As petty as it sounded, it was very real, and could turn into something causing a doubt in his leadership, or better, a civil war within the alliance.


Slowly, he rose from his seat. All eyes were upon him as he towered over all those present.
“My bretheren.” He let the greeting echo over the vast hall, “A most joyous and unexpected happening has occurred in the last day.” He knew very well that by now, news would have traveled like wildfire, despite his command to keep it to secrecy: That Lord Valeron’s daughter, Venicci Formor had returned to Avienna, taking her place in Blackfall Palace that had been left empty for nearly a decade.
However, as for formalities and general courtesy to those he already knew were aware, he would have to play as if he thought this news were completely new to everyone.

“A great and glorious light has returned to the city of Dawne, and moreover the Formorian House.” He lifted his arm into the air, where he gestured toward a massive painting that hung just behind him at the end of the hall, depicting a beautiful siren woman holding a child to her chest, “I and my beloved Serana’s child has returned to her home after years of our believing she was lost to the seas.”

He gave a few seconds to his subjects, nodding in acceptance to applause and politely excited words. After a moment, he raised a hand, the noises dying down in accordance, “However, despite my joy, I also realize that such a thing can never be allowed to happen again.” Here he frowned, allowing a true sense of remorse, regret, and aged sorrow creep into both his voice, features and posture, “It was my own fault that she was allowed to disappear without protection. Had I been more careful, had I been more watchful.. I might not have gone the last ten years of my life blaming myself for by beloved daughter’s death.”
He faded off then, his eyes becoming distant. In truth, a tight constriction began to enclose on his chest in the severe truth of those words.

Down the table, Gharzvog, leader of the Orcish armies slowly rose, his beady eyes looking directly towards him. Crossing a fist over his chest, the Orc spoke, his deep voice holding a gravelly tone, “My lord. You must not blame yourself so heavily for something that could have happened to any of us. In the midst of war and incredible duty, we all falter.”

A female Dark Elf by the name of Illia rose fluidly to her feet in return, her sing-song voice chiming in after Gharzvog’s, “It is true.” Her finely chiseled features rose, almond eyes glancing over to the Orc, “Our children are precious stars to all of us, and we know, just as well as you, that you would and did do everything in your power to protect and provide for that little girl. You have done the best you can in the situation you have been given, and cannot be condemned, for what happened was not within your power to control.”


Valeron closed his eyes, trying to appear taken with their words, despite the continuous feeling of guilt, “..I appreciate your words.. Gharzvog.. Illia..” He nodded, the two of them taking their seats once more. “However, what I have truly brought to the Hall on this day is a pleading question, and a decision that I want to include each of you on. One that will have the greatest impact on the rest of my life, and the life of my daughter’s.” Here, he knew that he had their attention. Valeron knew very well that his people loved him, and would also jump at any chance they could get to serve and perhaps even please him.

“My daughter, Venicci Formor is in need of a guardian.” He let his words sink in, now scanning along all the faces present, “She needs someone who will stand by her side, protect her from the harms of the world, and moreover, keep her safe to the point of being willing to give their very life for her in time of need.”
Slowly, he drug in a breath, allowing his eyes to fall to the tabletop, now speaking so low that not a body in the room dared take a breath for fear of not hearing it, “I cannot bear to lose my daughter again, not knowing that she will and continue to face the dangers of the world and this war.” He lifted his eyes to his company, “I am asking for your voices.”


With that, he faded off as he leaned back into his seat, allowing the beings in the room to fall into their own private conversations, and waited for the room to calm on its own time. This meant more than a mere employment of a bodyguard. This was to be the guardian employed by the most important figurehead in the last two centuries of Formorian leaders.
Granted, he already had a plan formed in his head, and knew exactly the outcome, whether he himself had to lead the debate to it or allow someone in the room to come to the same conclusion. It was no matter. He had to comply with the requirement of including the various leaders on all of his decisions, or at least put up a front that he was.


He knew that there were two sides to the coin that they were all tossing back and forth between themselves. Each of them wanted to get their hand into the workings of the Royal Blackfall line, thus pushing forth champions suited for the job, but they also knew that should that champion not be well enough suited, perhaps, enough to get Venicci killed? That would be terribly detrimental to their position and ultimately bring down their position in political and social standing.

To risk having Venicci’s death on their own hands was to damn them to a hell that could be brought on by none other than Valeron himself. There were risks. However there were also grand opportunities for gaining a foothold in the race for the High Ruler’s favor.



Edited by Venicci Formor, Apr 16 2013, 12:03 AM.
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Lord Valeron Formor Apr 14 2013, 07:44 PM Post #5
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The procession went on for perhaps another fifteen minutes before things started to sort out. Between hushed whispers and loud voices yelling to each other from across the table, it was in all honesty enough for Valeron to aquire a slight headache. However, he was listening intently to each individual conversation around the room. It seemed that most everyone seemed to have come to one of the same conclusions that he had: They could not send forth a guardian of their own race and risk their entire position for fear that their chosen would fail at his duty.

The various bands of humans from Melina and beyond were the first to opt out, though it had been clear from the start with unspoken agreement that they could not hope to compete with the various other races.

Next, were the elves who wittily talked themselves out of participating, followed by various creatures of larger proportions. Their decided problem was simple: A dragon, goblin or other large creature were just that. They were very large, and very easily targeted beings, and far too obvious to be suitable candidates for traveling with a girl that could pass as a human.

By the end of a half hour, there were only three willing parties left that had not admitted to a major fault or problem with the protection of the Princess: the Orcs and two different groups of Dwarves, all of which had descended into a heated argument of who would be more suited than the other. Valeron allowed this to go on for a short period of time before intervening.

They went back and forth, presenting to him reasons why they had the perfect candidate for protecting Princess Venicci (all of which, he noted, were based on what they boisterously claimed as superior attributes over the other party. He figured that it was more due to the underlying feud that had always seemed to exist between Dwarves and Orcs, rather than their actual ability to protect his daughter.)


He did not have to say anything, however, when the same dark elf inserted a smooth comment: “..not to be biased, nor overly critical, being that I have chosen to withdraw my card, but would not a best-suited protector be one containing the ability to use magic..?”
The statement was short, quaint, but enough to stir the pot, which she undoubtedly knew.

Engor, a stalky dwarf rose in a fury of red-faced retaliation, “You elves seem to think that magic is the most important factor in getting anything done." He scoffed, grumbling, "I’ll have you know that by a bit of know-how when it comes to weaponry and innovation, you can accomplish anything without the use of unecessary magics!”

Gharzvog seemed to smile to himself, speaking confidently, “My kind has each of those attributes. We have powerful healers and mages, that are not only adept in the use of the Language of Power, but are mighty and brave warriors above that.”

Engor looked as if he were to say something else when Illia cut in again, “ -furthermore..” Her almond gaze eyed the both of them dangerously, “..there is a major reason why my race chose to pull out of this decision. Where we are adept in strength and skillful magic, you both seem to have forgotten several very simple, key points that I am highly surprised that you did not think to consider.”

If mere looks could kill, the dark elf would have dropped right there on the spot.

“Firstly, unless you have not taken note, Venicci is not just a creature of land.” She purposefully let those words sink in. Valeron knew exactly where she was going with this, and had actually thought about it far before the meeting had adjourned to give each of them time to talk it over.

From here, she began her full-on in her assault, “Venicci is a Siren. She is also part Incubus. On one side, unless I am mistaken, neither of you has the stamina to swim for leagues at a time across the ocean, nor the capability of holding your breath for an indefinite amount of time. Even with the use of magic, eventually your energy stores will be depleted and you will drown. As per flight, I don’t see the likelihood of either of you sprouting a pair of wings to join her in the sky. The same rule applies for the use of magic to do so.”

Illia continued, “My second point is even more simple: Venicci could pass as a regular human, should she need to hide or blend in. An Orc or a Dwarf will not go unnoticed.”

The intensity of the emotions in the room was at a pique. Illia had presented several very solid arguments that none of them could hope to match or challenge.

Sputtering, the little Dwarf cast his arms up into the air, his face the color of a beet, “Well THEN Elf, what exactly do you propose, Hmm? I don’t see anyone sitting here short of Valeron himself who can quite match up to those requirements, since even your kind has surprisingly admitted to inferiority.”

Illia raised an eyebrow, merely smiling, “It would be impossible for any living creature to have those attributes, my dear Engor. Yes, we possess the ability to do all of those things, but not infinitely, and not when our attentions should be focused on protecting Venicci rather than the effort to keep up, or running the chance of hindering her many modes of travel. If she were bound to the Earth, my kind would easily be one of the best suited for the job. Unfortunately, we are humble unlike many, and admit to our limits and faults.”

Valeron was highly amused at this point, though kept his composure. Elves were and always had been terribly crafty both in wit and managing to gain the upper hand in just about any situation. They were also highly intelligent, highly guarded, and highly deadly. Between superior thought processes, physical speed, endurance and strength, they were set up to be dangerous killing machines. Even with his power, he would not be so keen as to crossing a group of elves the wrong way, much less were he a lower being.

Seeing a stalemate ensue between them, Valeron raised his voice, gaining their attention once more, “I have thought of this problem as well and figured that it would come down to this, but I wanted to see if any of you had a better solution to this very serious problem.” He watched as they shifted uneasily, none of them seeming to see any immediate answer, “Last night I sent a message to a certain contact, explaining to him my problem.” He moved, placing his fingertips back into a steeple, observing their expressions before he uttered his next words, “It was a message sent to the creatures of the Underworld.”

An uneasy murmur ran through those sitting in the hall. The Underworld was a place that was avoided in many regards, and one that, unless you were very stupid, powerful, or in Valeron’s case, had a personal heritage with it, you did not go playing around with any sort communion. Valeron had had many problems in his rising of rank, attributed mostly to the fact that he was indeed not of this world.

He was born in that Underworld, and in fact did not breach fully into the world of the living till later in his life. They had not trusted him, and for good reason. He had far too much power for this realm. Yes, it was possible for him to die, but not in the sense of actual death, and nor as easily as a mortal creature.

That fact alone made them wary of him, and made it much more difficult to earn their trust. When it all came down to it, he was an Incubus. He was a man-eater, and that was hardly something stable enough to build any sense reliance on. Valeron tended to avoid the topic altogether, but knew that in order to protect her, the guardian chosen would have to be an equal in power, if not above. The meeting held had truly been no more than a front, for his decision had been made as soon as Venicci had returned.

Standing slowly, he lowered his voice, “..I considered the possibilities, and speaking in very crude yet truthful terms, you need a demon to protect a demon.” He could feel the tension in the air grow as he lifted his hand, speaking once more, “Ebil. Come forth.”


Edited by Lord Valeron Formor, Sep 5 2013, 12:24 PM.
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Ebil Aug 29 2013, 02:51 PM Post #6
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"Ebil, come forth." with that Ebil pushed through the large double doors seated behind the throne that the king sat upon. As he did so all the eyes in the room were trained on him, most faces bore an expression of amazement due to one simple fact, Ebil was quite a sight to behold. Standing at just over 9 feet tall and roughly 500 pounds of solid muscle, long black hair, slicked back evenly along his scalp, a dark tan color to his skin that was riddled with scars on every visible piece, but that was just the man who was even considered small for his people. Covering both of his fists were a weapon that would make any human think twice before attacking him, twin cestus, a gauntlet of solid metal adorned with massive spikes coming off each of the knuckles, and enchanted with power that no one other than Ebil himself knew the true extent of. But simply by looking at them you could tell it was something dark, due to the slight red glow eminating off of either of the greusome weapons, he was after all, a demon.

The council sat there in mere shock at the monstrocity that now stood before them. Lord Valeron would trust his daughter in the hands of this man..this monster..a demon from the deepest pits of hell itself, before he would trust her to any of the warriors that the council had to offer? In doing so showing a strong act of defiance against every council member that now stood before him "perhaps a display as to why i have made this choice council?" with a motion of his hand the doors behind ebil now opened once again, a thirty foot tall red gnoll chieftain, brandishing his giant spiked hammer, now stood at the doors not 100 feet away from the council and Lord Valeron with nothing but ebil in between. Many of the council members cried out in horror, at the creature slowly lumbering toward them knowing that without their weapons none of them (with the acception of Lord Valeron himself) would stand any sort of a chance against the beast and that they were likely about to be torn limb from limb. "Ebil will you take care of this for me?" Lord Valeron said in an almost mocking tone. "Are you out of your damned mind?!?" came a frantic voice from one of the council members now scrambling toward the back of the chamber while lord Valeron remained in his throne completely calm and collected. "No, no i dont think i am. Ebil." Slowly Ebil turned around to face the beast now a mere twenty feet away

The monster let out a roar..low, loud, and threatening enough to send any sensible man fleeing for cover, but all Ebil could manage was a slight smirk. Enraged at the fact that he could not even get an ounce of fear to show from the man that was only a third of his size, the gnoll swung his hammer, hard, fast, and deadly just as he had done to vanquish so many foes before, but he had never dealt with a creature of the under word before..atleast not one quite on par with Ebil. As the hammer was coming down Ebil simply stuck his fist in the air, ready to meet the hammer mere feet before it would surely crush him. Then came the connection, what everyone though would surely be the end of the demon man and quite possibly them if Lord Valeron couldnt defeat the monster on his own, but when the hammer impacted with Ebils fist it shattered into a million pieces. The beast in complete shock couldnt even defend himself as ebil, with speed that no one seemed to think could be possible from a man of his stature, seemed
to materalize in front of the chieftain, smashing his cestus into his knee with such force that the bone shattered like glass, sending the chieftain down to one knee. Jumping off of the beasts leg Ebil easily cleared the rest of the distance to the monsters face pulling his fist back, and sending it forward with such force it seemed that he would cave the monsters skull in with no issue, though he stopped short of its snout by several inches. Just as everyone had assumed he was giving the chieftain mercy, an explosion that seemed like fifty cannons going off at the same time erupted from his fist, as Ebil landed back on his feet, slowly walking back toward Lord Valerons side the monster landed, dead and half incinerated in a burnt furry lump several feet away.


Lord Valeron simply smiled "would anyone care to question my judgement now?" As Ebil stood next to him, emotionless, as if he were a statue.

Edited by Venicci Formor, Aug 29 2013, 03:01 PM.
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Venicci Formor Dec 5 2013, 05:21 PM Post #7
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