| Warlord_Allatu | Date: Sunday, 21 September 14, 8:44 PM | Message # 1 |
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Almania
15:00 Local Time
House Allatu Fortress
Slowly rising from upon the massive butte of what had once been a lone mountain, now reformed from years of erosion and the careful carving of those craftsmen that had first created the fortress that rest upon it. As the sun slowly rose, its rays of light bleeding in through the many windows that lined the grand hall, the mess of corpses that had once been beings became visible. The walls painted with a myriad of colors from the various bloods of those that had been slaughtered within. Quietly a solitary figure moved towards the throne that rested upon the far end, a single survivor cowering upon the stone throne as the one approached swung the blade to the side, the blood flung from it to splatter against the wall, leaving yet one more decorative splatter upon a nearby pillar.
The room seemed to be filled with an unnatural quiet, the final screams of those last few guards that had been alive would cut out shortly as their final dying breaths carried them off. All that remained were the two whom now stood opposite of one another, looking upon each others forms. The woman holding her blade stepped forward again, quietly and methodically moving towards the throne. The being upon which shook with fear as he knew that his time had finally come to an end in this galaxy.
It had all happened so quickly, or rather the events that lead up to this conclusion were set in motion decades ago when a rival family had risen up and destroyed those that had any form of allegiance or loyalty to Almania, with those that had supported the Republic seemingly falling into the position of power. A war had raged upon the world and entire families had been wiped from existence. This was merely another in the long line of those whom were thought dead. This young woman had survived and had finally returned home to reclaim that which her family had once called home. An ancient fortress upon Almania that now was bathed and rechristened in blood.
Stepping forward once more, the woman brought up her blade, the large doors to the grand hall swinging open. She was not alone, and those that had arrived stepped within the chambers. Quietly they slowly moved in, with a few already seeing to the clean up as they began to drag and carry the corpses out of the hall. A small smirk crossed her lips as she turned and looked towards the frightened man that had taken a seat that was not his to take.
"You'll pay for this! The Republic will crush you!"
An idle threat of a being whom believed that the corrupted and decedent Republic had any real power in the Outer Rim Territories. Their fleets and armies had been waylaid since the days of the Ruusan Reformation, and their power was more symbolic than any real strength. Though for those that still believed in such an institution; perhaps it gave them some piece of hope in their final hours.
With each threat that followed however, they only served to widen the smirking grin upon the woman's face. With a final echoing thud of her heavy boot, she stopped at the top of the small platform that held the throne. Her left hand came up, touching the stone work and resting upon it. Leaning forward, her eyes looked into the man's as she chuckled to herself lightly.
"Where are they? Where is your Republic that you killed so many for?"
The woman asked, her eyes locked upon the being before her. With her hand slowly coming down from where it perched itself just moments earlier, she pressed upon the man's shoulder. Pushing the being back against the seat as she looked forward, her lithe figure seeming to dance as she stood there and allowed herself to sway with the slight breeze that was already beginning to move through the open windows of the hall.
"You're in my seat. A seat that belonged to someone far greater than you or I."
With that a silent movement of her blade saw it seated within the beings torso, the shock and pain so much that it was enough to take away the beings voice. Standing up, her hand pushed the figure out of the way, letting the corpulent man fall to the side of the throne upon his back like a bloated whale upon the shore. With a quiet brush of her hand she pushed away some of the dust and crumbs that had covered the throne, only to take her seat as she crossed one leg over the other.
"See to the vessels and the men. I want Almania within my grasp. We are not going to let it fall back into the hands of the Republic."
After so many years it had finally happened. Kishar had returned home, and now it was time for House Allatu to rise.
Kishar Allatu
Warlord of Almania
Message edited by Warlord_Allatu - Sunday, 21 September 14, 8:45 PM |
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