Kingslayer

[Auriel_ 652]

“No Witnesses.”

[music]

 Forsooth, these greedy dwed had not paid their price in full, even refraining from paying out their true deal; a deal that could have ended in Elven Blood. For the Autarch would not have it, so too, would the dwarves attempt his life. Trudging back into the dreadful dwarven fortress, on his own avail and honor of those whom he trekked here for, having defended them, they even refused the decent hospitality, opening up after leaving the Matron and her guardsmen aside. The Autarch, remained.

 

“Yar! We captured y’, immortal prisoner!” A Dwed King, unfortunately, spoke.

 

 Alas, no one could have foreseen the outcome, brutality and finesse that escaped the lithe, armored form of the Elven Autarch, for he was alone, and so were these dwarves. For he drew his hand towards his back and drew down his visor; the fiery rings that accompanied his iris shimmering in the dimly lit dwarven hell-hole, simmering mantras escaping his helmet- taking forth his grand berserker axe, it’s cosmic steel glistening in the dark.

 

Arrogantly spoken, yet again, the Dwarven King and his Honor Guard; “Ye will never take me alive, y’our prisoner!” And he could never be more right.

 

 Charged, he was, by the two, and with two steps to the side, an exchange of blows with deific strength and radiant force, belayed the Kings Guard, with a kick and a slash to ones neck, fell two heads. He faced the Grandaxe finally and swung his axe to the right- blood flecking and slicking the floor; shifting and drew his visor up for the King to gaze, before bringing his cloak to the side directly. Clearing the path as he encircled his own way out, shouting and screaming being heard in the distance, his time was limited.

 

“Come on then!” The Grandaxe once more, retrieved his axe for a final fight.

 

 The Autarch obliged, having sent his silvered chain around the Stouts leg in a vicious example of force: sending him to the ground, and would have approached- looming over as he held his axe up over head and murmured through his visor; the metallic rasp echoing past his helmet.

 

“Do you have any last words, ‘King of Dwarves’?”

 

Words escaped his mouth, but alas, heads rolled, accompanied by a life cut inevitably short. There were no witnsses, only blood.

 

[OOC]

A short tribute to the occurences of last night and a characters delve into what can only be assumed

is his own sanctimonious descent into darkness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Guest]

((Nicely written raph ?

[Inferno_Ougi 1454]

Glottgut sat in his blarg and suddenly jumped in his chair in joy at a sudden feeling. Perhaps it was a Confederate dwarf being killed? Who could know.

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.