xodus — Roleplayer Guild

The Laments of a King

The air reeked of death and destruction, blood painted the sand and screams echoed in a symphony of terror. Kings were falling. The sounds of their blades growing duller, the radiance of their alchemy growing dimmer and yet it is darkness that gives way to light. Unfortunately in this case it was the light of a fallen soul, his name a kin to the Angel who lost his grace and led humanity a stray, Gadrael.

"Let all who come in my way be blown asunder. All you fucks who bow to the tyranny of a false messiah....let me enlighten you towards the path of hell!" The King spoke up, his words shaking the very ground beneath him. This man, unlike his comrades, bore the crest of Excalibur. Only four possessed the right to be branded with this insignia, a right reserved for the 'Counsel of Kings'.

"Lapdogs of A.M.R.O, do you know who you follow....do you know WHAT you follow!" His screams once again echoed, a strange pain hidden within these words, a sorrow best described as a kind of lamentation.

"You who hunt demons are led by the worst of that which you hunt, there is no justice only subjugation," the man bellowed once more while ferociously tearing of his hood revealing a face marred with burns and an empty eye socket.

The remaining forces slowly began to retreat and rally behind their leader whose words like daggers pierced the Asylums and their wretched purpose in a world that loathes them. They were a bane to this world, hated by Alchemists, shunned by the government and nonexistent to the humans. Ghosts. Despised. Unwanted.

"This face.." Gadrael screamed, his words disarming the Asylums of their weapons. "This is the face of a man who dared to question A.M.R.O. These scars.....they weren't my punishment.....these burns they are just a reminder of that punishment." Tears rolled down his eyes as the Forsaken King clenched his fist till a stream of blood trickled down.

"My punishment was watching my wife torn limb by limb in front of me by one of you!" His finger pointed towards the direction of the Asylums, his eyes bloodshot with rage. "My punishment was watching my newborn child thrown to the hounds, watching them feed." The sheer power of these words imbued with his Alchemic energy wreaked havoc upon the Asylums. Massive shock waves sliced through the air in all directions.

“What is your punishment Asylums?” The King spoke, his maddening tone coated in malice and a thirst for vengeance against all who wronged him. His bloodshot gaze scrutinizing the transgressors in front of him, his claymore brandished to reap the judgment that awaited them. His finger trembled with rage as he slowly pointed towards the Asylum known as, Fletcher. The bloodlust with which the Asylum fought reminded the king of the monsters that tore his family apart and as such the first victim had been selected.

“Let me ask you, which aspect molds a man to be the worst kind of men?” The king scoffed, a fiendish smirk resting across his face, an expression of spite. “Is it hatred?” As he spoke he slowly stepped towards the direction of Fletcher. “Is it fear?” His steps continued to close the distance with the Asylum.
“The answer is……..

------Xx-----Xx-----

“Despair” Angel whispered softly as he observed the carnage from a safe distance while perched atop the Caesar Palace.

“Why is that brother?” The little chrono questioned, her curious head slowly intruding in the middle so all her partner could see were her large mismatched eyes.

“A man who has nothing to lose is a man who isn’t afraid to take. That my dear is a very dangerous man,” her partner replied while playfully pressing his forehead against Rena’s. “To be consumed by despair. That is the underlying characteristic that is needed for one to be a part of the Council of Kings and that is exactly why they are such a threat.”

“Aren’t we also consumed by despair…brother?”

These innocent words carried the weight of a world, a world that Angel wouldn’t allow to topple over his partner even if his fate be the same of Atlas, a giant cursed to lift the skies as repentance for his sins.

“You need not worry little princess, the burdens of despair are not yours to bear and they never will,” XIII spoke in a strange melancholic tone, a kind of sadness that reflected of his partner’s eyes, the kind which possessed a strange warmth to it.

-------Xx-------xX-----

Before the Asylum had the chance to blink, Gadrael had already come within striking distance of Fletcher. His claymore burnt a blaze in a shade of celeste, this heavenly blue glow causing the very air around the king to bend to his will, thickening and sharpening. Soon enough the air around him had been condensed to form sharp invisible razor blades madly slicing at Fletcher and any and all around him.

“I will tear you to pieces and scorch your bones!” Gadrael screamed as the aura around his blade suddenly turned crimson and as soon as the giant claymore was pressed into the ground, a large circle spread across the ground on which Fletcher stood combating the thousand slices he was made to endure. As soon as this circle completed itself, in a matter of seconds it lit a blaze and an enormous flames surfaced, a cylinder of fire burning everything within it.

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