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 Post subject: To Kill A Gypsy King
 Post Posted: Mon Jul 19, 2010 7:09 pm 
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The eye of Ra sent it's burning hot gaze down upon the realm of the Emerald Hills. The air was thick and the trees held the moisture in a tight grip, knowing it would soon be turned into sweet life-giving rain. The sound of a thousand unseen insects buzzing gloriously in a natural state of disharmony spread through the many trees of the vast gree canopy known as Tanglewood Forest. The hum was followed closely by the slightest of cool breezes, just strong enough to carry a bit of reprisal from such a sweltering afternoon.
The two friends stood for a moment, taking in the all too brief feeling of comfort before making thier way to the royal procession which was already in progress. By the time they reached the clearing where the high court had gathered for the transfer of the crown, the new king had ascended and was well into his opening ceremony.

Another Green Dragon on the thrown... for better or worse.

"I'm going to kill him" said the Dark Saint with a certain tone of finality in his voice.
This was no idle threat, nor was it in any way vindictive or malicious, just a simple fact.
His companion had heard this tone from Nevron many times before and did not doubt it's inevitability. As with all Cats, the Dark Saint was known for his persistence.
Immediately after accepting the course of events laid out by his fellow Cat, the Master Assassin set to work keeping the Gypsy King within his sights, while at the same time maintaining a quite distance as not to trip the trap too early and spoil the prize.

The evening waned on and the darkness brought no comfort from the waves of heat ebbing from the sun baked earthen floor of Tanglewood Forest. The companions sat at one of the tables near the paths leading to the edge of the woods, while they enjoyed a pleasant repast consisting of meat and cheese folded in flatbread. A simple feast. yet fitting for such summer courts.
Though distracted by troublesome buisness from the belted circle, Delphos had remained vigilant and kept the king in check all evening. Then at last the moment of opportunity presented itself as all perfect moments do.
He circled once to mark the exact locations...
Circled again to make all the corrections and compuations in his mind's eye...
Then he went in for the Kill...!!!

Stepping up beside the unsuspecting monarch, he laid the dagger lightly upon his back...
"Congratulations your majesty" said Delphos with a smile.
"Where are your guards?" he asked, stabbing twice with the dagger.

Smiling at the Assassin, the King called out...
"Well...isn't anyone going to protect me?"


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 Post subject: Re: To Kill A Gypsy King
 Post Posted: Tue Jul 20, 2010 8:22 am 
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Deep underground, below the majestic Emerald City in the Kingdom of the Emerald Hills, The Dark Lord sat on his throne made of blackened bones in his secret room deep in his stronghold . He had been sitting there for a little less than 3weeks. During that time he had taken no food or drink. His servants had all be avoiding him due to his quiet and yet agitated mood. He always got like that after one of the berserker bouts. The most recent one happened during the royal event held in the name of the newest Monarch to be elected by the populace of the Hills. These berserker bouts -as they had been named by others- always caused the Dark Lord to suffer from a sort of blackout. Its been said by those who were in the know, that the blackouts were probably brought on by the Dark Lord's own need to forget the events that happened during these bloody berserker moments that over took the Dark Lord from time to time. Friend and foe alike had felt the bite of the Dark Lord's steel while he was blinded by the battle rage. And while the barbarians of the lands could learn over time to control their own similar berserker rage. The Dark Lords was a tad bit different than theirs. Mostly it was in the way the rage came across. The barbarians rage would come to them in the heat of battle, after taking wounds that would kill a normal warrior, the Barbarians of the Hills would just become a fighting machine that short of removing of limbs or a major spell of destruction could not be stop for a long count. Many an enemy had fallen to a barbarians sword blow because the enemy thought the half crazed sword swingers were dead. Granted, if given enough time for the rage to run its course the barbarians would die on their own. Dying an awful death. One with no one to open the gates to Valhalla for them.

The Dark Lord's Rage was different. It was not brought on by battle, although its appearance was associated with battle. It was not brought on by the Dark Lord having suffered enough wounds to kill 4 normal men like that of the Barbarians. As a matter of fact, if he could prevent the Rage from taking over he would. The loss of control was always the price he paid for having the rage overwhelm him. A price that for any standing near him when the rage kicked, could lead to their paying a price as well. The price was always their death. Foe's, Friends, Brothers at arms, they all took a chance to fall victim to the Dark Lord's sword once the power of the Rage over took him. It had happened in the past and it will happen again in the future. But it had not happened in a long time. Now, it had happened at the recent Crown Coronation. And as always the price paid was felt by friends and foes.

It was just after the newest King had been crowned and had started to move into a crowd of his followers. Being escorted only by his Champion, the new Monarch was unaware that there was a dark cloud moving thru the crowd. The Dark Lord had been suffering all day with an overwhelming feeling that something bad was going to take place at court. And while in the darkest part, in the lowest section of the Dark Lord's black heart, he knew he would rather avoid the always heavy price of having the Rage over take his mind and its total control of his actions. But he also knew that had it not been for the power of the Rage he might well of never survived that night or many others in the past.

In a flash the cloud let loose its lightning. Granted, in this case the cloud and its lightning came in the form of an Assassin and his deadly dagger. The Dark Lord was just out of striking range. Lurking in the shadows. And while he watched one of his Brother Assassins move in to take the Monarch life, the sight of the Champion moving in to defend or at the very least avenge his charges death brought the Rage up from whatever depths in his dark soul it lurked. In less time than it took to blink your eye the Dark Lord had pulled his Black Blade free of its sheath in one blow killed the avenging Champion before he even had time to report the assassination. The Dark Lord watched as his brother assassin died even while pulling free his dagger from the New Monarchs body. But the new Monarch wasn't as dim witted as he looked and while he was moving to the dying Assassin to let the attacker know that the assassination was foiled by the two Stoneskins placed on him by the courts spellcasters prior to court, the Dark Lords own black blade entered the new Monarch back. From that point on the Dark Lord was no longer in charge of his weapons actions.

The Black Blade's power flowed thru the Dark Lord. Filling him with the power and skill of warlords past, present and future. Blood was what the sword wanted and it didn't care whose. In a flash the Monarch was stab again as was two others who just happened to be standing nearby. Then the blade swung the Dark Lord around and struck out at another. And yet another. The Dark Lord could feel the swords power as it sucked up the life force of all it killed in the small amount of time it was uncovered. Then like the wind, the Sword forced its owner to turn and fade into the very darkness that it came from. By the time the Dark Lord found himself once again in control of his own actions he was far from the scene. Like all the times before, the Dark Lord was covered in the blood of the dead and he had little to no memory of what had happened. He tried to remember who it was that the sword killed in its recent slaughter but it was not to be. But from past experience he knew the Black Blade only stopped the slaughter because it felt the time to kill was only limited by the number of victims in close proximity. To venture further with the battle might bring more opponets than the Black Blade's owner could defend against. At least the Blade felt his owner was worth keeping alive.

For now.


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 Post subject: Re: To Kill A Gypsy King
 Post Posted: Tue Jul 20, 2010 2:07 pm 
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Somewhere in the midst of Tanglewood Forest, a warm wave of blackness washed over the Dark Knight. An all too familiar feeling brought his mind near consciousness, while his soul lingered comfortably within the great abyss and his body lie dead on the warm blood soaked ground.

"Ah... just to stay here and dream for eternity" he sighed to himself, knowing that the peace and tranquility he felt would not last and he would be brought back to walk the realm of the living, bound once again to his physical form. His long time karma debt still had a millennium or so of payment before he could be free. Some entity, divine or demonic, would certainly take this opportunity to exact another portion of the price due a comdemned soul.

"That will not do...!!!" Spoke the omnipresence that dwelled deep within the Dark Knight. "No rest for you, my servant!" Boomed the Voice. "There is entirely too much chaos and carnage to be had for you to lie peacefully in your grave!"

With the words still thundering in his head, Delphos opened his eyes against the darkness only to find himself surrounded by darkness. Slowly his cat sight began to adjust and he could discern his condition. The wound in his side had closed though the pain was excruciating. Rubbing it with his left hand, he carefully stood up and looked around. The early morning held the slightest indication of daybreak but the stars were still quite visible in the moonless sky. The grass was still damp with blood in the large area around where he stood, yet there seemed to be no one about and someone had removed the bodies of those he knew had been slain the night before.

The last thing he could recall before passing into the sweet arms of the Bitch, was the Dark Saint bursting out of the shadows, cleaving his killer and stabbing the Gypsy King. The image of the king's bloody body collapsing to the ground brought Delphos a slight sense of satisfaction and he chuckled to himself, then immediately regretted doing so and rubbed his side again.

"Damn...!!!" he groaned, picturing the culprit on the other end of the offending weapon. That strike would certainly not go unanswered, but for now his personal scores would have to wait as he had more pressing matters at hand. He needed sustenance after such an ordeal. Dying after all, took a lot out of one... even creatures like himself.

Hastily gathering his trappings, the Dark Knight struck out upon the road leading back to his manor house on the banks of the River Midnight. His thoughts rested momentarily on the deserted village which was once the great duchy that shared the river's name. The residents had never fully recovered from the assassin war and now made their home far away from the river's reach, taking only the name from it's origins. But it was not the first time such migrations had occured, nor would it be the last. For it seemed that a name could drift on the wind like a cloud and find it's home anywhere in the Realm.

A deep crimson glow was just begining to line the horizon by the time Delphos arrived at the doors of his humble abode. The Bitch had played a little time trick on him, but had taken no tax for her pleasure and for that he was thankful. He greeted his furred black children with love and food as they showed their affection with rubs, purrs and ruff tongued licks.

"Damn, it's good to be home...!!!" he said aloud, and they all answered in kind with meows of varied pitches, tones and volumes, each in it's own distinctive voice.
Finding the dark corners of the house where his sleeping chamber beckoned, the Dark Knight fell into a much needed slumber and dreamt of hunting Dragons...


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 Post subject: Re: To Kill A Gypsy King
 Post Posted: Tue Aug 24, 2010 1:09 pm 
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Watching from the shadows as she often did, this time the wolf played her part, eye and ears for the upcoming assassination. The crowd had begun to disperse and she sat sideways on one of the quickly emptying feast hall tables. The more skilled and honed Assassins only a short distance away waiting for their opportunity. As a Barbarian she knew she had many more weapons at her disposal, and who would not fear a berserking barbarian if that was what was indeed finally needed.
She watched as they circled their unsuspecting prey. She had to get closer to watch... Stepping out she saw the dark knight Nevron quickly take out his competition two at a time and retreat. Leaving the King to his partner, Delphos's dagger deeply digging into the unprotected Monarch's back.
It was all to quickly over, for the victims and for her, choosing the wrong place to hide the Nevron welcomed her with a well placed sword as well, fearing perusers, she suspected. His rage seemed to have robbed him of any logical thought or action.
But it was with a smile on her face that she saw the newest emerald serpentine figure fall, the glinting crown clattering to the floor at his knees. The newest Gypsy King was dead on but his first day of office. It gave her hope that the greed and treachery of the Green Dragons would not continue to undo the Kingdom she loved. The blackness of death greeted her, but for only a moment. She was in Amtgard after all...and many more lives remained that night the Gypsy king fell to the assassins of Sable Pride.

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 Post subject: Re: To Kill A Gypsy King
 Post Posted: Sun Sep 12, 2010 11:14 pm 
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Darkangel hovered near the Monarch, impatiently. The guard was changing, but those men moved slowly, while the sands of time rattled swiftly. Though he had pledged his blade in the defense of the King, he felt his own body was an all too frail shield should he be faced with significant force. At long last, the crowd began to meander and thin.

Delphos emerged from the crowd suddenly. Darkangel saw the raised hand and first thought the assassin had come to parlay. Darkangel saw the blade move. Now he saw only the King and the assassin, the awkward gathering surrounding the King becoming like dim mist in his eyes. Danger only was his vision and his lantern. Though he called on himself to move swiftly, he saw that he was too slow. Darkangel scanned his surroundings and saw he was outnumbered. His new opponent sent a shiver through his spine. The Dark Knight moved like a rush of carrion birds toward their prey. Either foe alone was a deadly threat; he had no hope with both in close quarters. Stilling his mind and his beating heart, Darkangel became like a shadow. Though the heavens still saw him, mortal men blinked. Darkangel moved quiet and swift.

There was no hope of protecting the King. Darkangel accepted this. Vengeance it would be, then. Darkangel moved, and his blade found its mark. He turned. Now the Dark Knight was upon him. This time, Darkangel reflected, he performed his duty. Evil blades perforated his body. This, too, Darkangel accepted.

His eyes met those of the first assassin. Darkangel knew then this would be only the opening move. Check, said the assassin. Knight takes knight. Rook takes knight. Check, said the Dark Knight.

Agony. Evil wounds. Darkness.


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 Post subject: Re: To Kill A Gypsy King
 Post Posted: Tue Oct 19, 2010 2:31 pm 
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The long day of battle had passed in the Great War of the Banners and the usual band of victors sat at the high table among the crown heads and kingdom nobles. The feast of boiled bird and starchy vegetables did little to satisfy the bloodlust and hunger felt by those who did not fare so well on the field of armor, steel and harsh words. They questioned the outcome of such battles, where magical spells seemed useless against the onslaught of the metal plated behemoths who rampaged across the bloodstained ground, leaving only death in their wake.

The air was cool and the nearly full moon shone down upon the gathering with a silver translucence which illuminated the open areas just enough for the well trained eyes of any assassin to see his prey clearly and yet the shadows offered sanctuary for rapid escape and evasion. A perfect night for death dealing, one might say…

“I’ll just watch from the catbird seat and wait to see what happens,” said the Dark Knight to his Squire. “The Guild is yours now, and I’d like to see how you handle yourself and your Sins without my presence.”

“By your leave, Sir Knight,” replied the Master Assassin as he turned and walked away into the darkness.

The Gypsy King was no simple target. It was, as the Dark Saint had often coined the “Nobles’ Rule”, easier to kill them than to get them to die. Yet this King had already died once, at the point of Sir Nevron’s Black Blade. He could indeed be killed, at least for a time. So, it was not so inconceivable that Lord Sutra’s plan would not work. But with the understanding of the “Nobles’ Rule”, the Dark Knight had his doubts.

The Kingdom Champion was strangely absent from court on this occasion and the King’s Guard seemed less prepared than they should have been. Perhaps the long day of battle had gotten the better of them and they were in need of some well deserved rest. That would certainly create a better opportunity for a frontal assault by the Guild of Shadows. Such was the plan hatched from the mind of the current Guildmaster.

With the help of an “insider” and a prime chance during a presentation of a gift to the kingdom coffers, the Master Assassin and his Guild Forces would take their best shot.

After finishing his meal, the Dark Knight sat in silence and listened to the omnipresent voice deep within his damned soul…
“My Servant!” the dark familiar presence called…
“Use your skills and place yourself where you must be to act when the time is right.”

Having taken the role of a Monk for the days battle, the Dark Knight still moved as he always did. Quietly, swiftly and without notice… Within the space of a few heartbeats he had reached his destination behind the court, behind the King and his guards, unseen, unnoticed and armed.


to be continued...


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 Post subject: Re: To Kill A Gypsy King
 Post Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 1:57 am 
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The shades name echoed through the sparsely decorated feast hall. Laughter filled in the gaps. The king's herald called out two more times.

'Will Sutra approach the court!?'

The sins form took shape as he emerged from the cloak of night. Torch light cast wicked shadows across his bowed head. He walked with purpose this evening.

Regent Cynisca stood a short distance behind the king with a dark demeanor. Her reign had not been an easy one. Her green felt hat sat sadly out of place upon her brow. The lack of the glinting sheen of a royal crown had once again gone unnoticed. She stood surrounded by a nameless guard, veiled in secrets.

Tzar Darktigger cautiously eyed the approaching shade. Silence overtook the crowd for a brief moment. It had been years since the crowned duke had spoken at an official gathering of the populace. Tonight, Sutra would thank the few souls that had journeyed to a distant land with a foreign king in the name of charity. There, the small caravan was weight down with gold bullion in thankful recompense for their presence. Tonight, the dark wizard would present the gift to the kingdom. A humble gesture of a few.

'To those who served that night at the humble request of a foreign crown, I thank you. Without you, this royal gift would not have been possible. And with this gold, we pray that our kingdom grounds see some much needed additions.'*

The people cheered with eager abandon. The donation would be a much needed catalyst in improving the royal grounds.

Darktigger smiled. Sutra nodded.

'And one more thing...' the shade boomed.

'The Guild has a message for you Darktigger...'

The name had long been whispered in lore. It had been a lifetime of seasons since the tales could be verified. It was all hearsay of a few who claimed to have seen their existence and lived to tell about it.

The Guild.

Men could feel its presence.
Women sensed its existence.
Children feared its bogeymen.

The Guild was not a fabrication. And tonight, Sutra would confirm its existence in a dramatically concise display of power.

He had envisioned an ocean of darkness casting the high table into glorious oblivion. Tonight was a special night. A revered knight was to be knighted shortly after Sutra's speech. He had to weigh the consequences of this plot. He lit candles and spoke with the Darkheart, seeking ancient advice and direction. The ancient one supported his squires sound decision. A small but accurate strike would avoid culling the innocent.

Sutra was driven by justice, not blind carnage. Tonight would serve as a reminder to the faithless masses that the darkness is to be feared and respected once more.

****************

'The Guild has a message for you Darktigger...'

The shade turned and faced the crown-less king. The wicked grin was obscured by failing light. Dark shapes pounced at the signal. The gleam of whirling blades cast brilliant flashes of light. Sutra stood proudly at the courageous display of fevered loyalty.

Two of the three sins fell at the strong presence of the kings guard, with a third finding his mark twice. The blade sang as it broke two strong castings of protects. A hail of blades made quick work of the dark one as he fell to his knees.

The plot had fallen short this eve, the guild master accepted; but not it's true purpose.

A glinting dagger caught Sutra's attention. The Darkheart fully materialized from behind the guard. Time seemed to stand still out of respect. Sutra's mind reeled at the reminder of his knight's dark prowess.

'Santuary...'

The dagger bit deep into the monk king's flesh but had no lethal effect. A shimmering aura of gold encompassed Darktigger. Sir Delphos stood defiantly against the weight of a barrage of death majicks. His chesire smirk slowly faded into the night.

'Santuary...'

The king would not die tonight at the hands of The Guild.

The dark one stood dutifully as he watched the bodies of his fallen brothers turn to black mist, called by strong majicks to temporary graves.

Chuckling, Sutra turned on his heel and calmly walked away from the confused scene. The king had managed to escaped tonight, but his time would come soon enough.

The populace watched as the dark guildmaster faded out of sight.

The Guild's act of defiance would mark the beginning of a new era, one which would soon shape the kingdom's history once more.

S
[con't]

*OOCishly, I wish I could have named each and every single one of you kiddos who helped out with the MDS event. I can't thank you all enough.

But just in case, thank you:
Cynisca
Orchid
Garm
Magnus and wife (what is her game name!!?)
Myth
Sir Delphos
Eniad
Did I miss anyone? Don't think so.

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The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu


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 Post subject: Re: To Kill A Gypsy King
 Post Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 5:42 pm 
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A Coward dies a thousand deaths… A Hero dies but once…
Both live on forever in Legends.

Death can come swiftly and without warning or it can linger for ages causing great pain and suffering over long periods of time.
In either case, the end is the same…
For death is the great equalizer and no mortal can escape the shared fate of all who walk the realm in a physical body of flesh, bone and blood.

To some, sanctuary means a consecrated place of refuge. To others, it is a state of being where one can avoid harm or attack. It is the latter definition that saved the Gypsy King from his immanent demise…

The attack came quickly and with little warning, but it was enough to set the royal guards in motion. Taking positions between the King and his would be killers, they defended him with expert steal. The silver flash of swords under the autumn moon soon turned crimson with the blood of the fallen guild members, their bodies hitting the ground like fallen trees around the Gypsy King.

One Accolade made his way past the defenders and hit his mark. Once, then twice his swift blade struck home, only to be turned aside as if striking the hardest redwood. Before he could muster a third attack, the Dark Squire was himself slain…

Just as the final blow came down upon his chest, the King began his chant…
“Sanctuary”… “Sanctuary”… “Sanc…” the third chant was punctuated by yet another blade. This time from behind… Three more times the Darkheart’s dagger found its mark, but still had no effect upon the Gypsy King…

With a Joker-like smile the King turned his head to the side and looked into the face of his assailant…
Eye to eye, the two Monks exchanged a gaze in a moment of silence.

“Sanctuary” said the King, with a lilt of laughter in his voice…

“Damn It…!!!” exclaimed the Dark Knight, as he quickly turned on his heel and took a few steps back into the shadows from which he had emerged mere seconds before the attack had begun.

Within the span of a few heartbeats, one of the King’s guards was upon him, but the Dark Knight was too fast on his feet… With a loud clear voice, the guard called out…
“Delphos… I call for your death, I call for your Death…”

The Dark Knight merely laughed at this feeble attempt by the spell caster.
Keeping to the shadows and sheathing his dagger, Delphos began his own chant…
He walked slowly by the dead and dying…
Through the crowd of assassins, royal guards, witnesses, and even past the King himself… all the while his words could plainly be heard…

“Sanctuary”… “Sanctuary”… “Sanctuary”…


[smilie=icon_cool.gif]


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