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06-01-2014, 09:21 AM
The rise and fall of empires christened glorious pursuits and creeds through the toxic indifference of his everlasting indignation, conquering, devouring, persecuting, amidst the threads of murky ineptitude. A Regime threatening to crush them, then punctured beneath the weight of its own stupidity, chaos unraveling and threatening, sending them to tombs and catacombs, then unraveled in the midst of perseverance, and now, renewal asunder in the plunge of their calculations. Another new member brought from the doldrums of the Threshold, or perhaps plucked from the surrounding outlands, by their General, trumpeting and beckoning for the weight of his gavel. He followed the gesture with the slate of his terrible wake, brazen, intimidating, nefarious vestiges pulsing and maddening, strife aligned with nefarious intrigues and enigmatic warrens – though clearly not the first, for Illynx had arrived with her son, and he was forced into the social aspects of Lordship; sometimes a rumination he wanted to leave untouched and buried, eager for the shadows and darkness swallowing, corrupting, instead of offering his presence in forced forums and congregations. There were sovereigns to ruin and havoc to be unleashed, but he remained shackled and tethered to the acceptance of others, and so gestured lightly to each soul bearing their weight amidst the cold, the grandeur, the power and precision of the Basin. Torleik’s achievement was duly noted, Illynx’s introductions followed thereafter by his own in its blunt, hazardous scabbard. “Deimos.” The Reaper’s precise stare, a piercing vessel calculating, ruminating, pondering, dragged over to the stranger, black, scattered to oblivion, sword upon her brow; but what else did she hold besides the worthy enamel? Was she a creature of loathing, of diligence, of fortitude, or another dame found in the bulrushes, sent to their home by the kindness and altruism of the General? What were her talents, her convictions, her capabilities and faculties – useful, or ill apparent, sanctioned to dine in the halls of the futile and ineffectual? What were her aspirations, to climb the walls of glory, or to fester in the abominations of the weak, the downtrodden, the pointless? So, he queried, laid the question out for adequate response, for where she would choose to roam, to drift, in their vast holdings of prowess and promise. “What strengths do you possess?”
