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High Price To Pay [Salzem]

Started by joylss, December 07, 2016, 08:51:22 AM

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joylss

Arouse may the be the winds upon these deserted nights, hauled by simpering sand and cruel winds, shrouded by an ancient curse of yore, and forgone is the blessings of divine faith. Perhaps the striking pitfall of Doriaty is still visibly barbed and fresh to the eye, as sleep becomes a discounted guest to his chambers as of late, ever since the demise of his mother and grandfather, both of which employ the regal title of princess and king of Doriaty, now a forsaken kingdom left to preach only in stories. God liberate this piteous bloke of his daunting hassles, and bare witness to his sufferings!

For Grief is a stimulating catalyst oppressive enough to paralyze the gravest of a man's psyche. Condone to death and war, and lonesomeness shall be his eternal chagrin when all else has veered from favourable terms. Seldom is he congruent to seek the assistance of supernatural forces, nor entrust his faith to the grasps of ghostly entities, but naught could he do to amend his passing at this moment, therefore, breaching through his own border he shall, yet regrettably! His condolence is eked through mindless deceit and pain, for the favour he is to ask from the demon shall evince him no cheap levy.

❝ Hearken to me, O' Spirit! It is I, the grandson of late King Lanvir, Nasrin, who anticipates your grave tidding! ❞
cue the darken lines around sleepless eyes, as the once and future crowned prince of Doriaty hoists his voice to the echo of doleful sands. ❝ A favour it is I wish to ask of you, yet presumably, mindful I am that this shall prove no easy task---

For . . . I wish to change the past. Yet, none that I have would serve to the likes of an Otherworldly being, though whichever may be your price to pay, you only need to speak it, and I shall render it true! ❞

Salzem

Demagogue had little reason to visit the fell beyond remembering the good times. Ah, those were the days... This place wasn't always just a sack of rotting decayed buildings and salted lands after all. Once, what was known as "Fell" was a great and mighty kingdom, perhaps even more powerful than either the Serenians or the Connlaothians were in the modern day. Demagogue remembered a time when people ran through the streets happily, dutifully, where a demon like himself could make an honest profit and in the open too... That, or he was remembering some other long lost kingdom from days long past... it was so hard to remember when you were *insert length of time* years old. The ancient skeleton just didn't have a care to remember THOSE exact details right now... When one lived as long as he did, one learned how little time ultimately meant. It just didn't seem to matter as much as it did with mortals, those whom death was always an imminent threat.

Speaking of imminent threats, as Demagogue wandered through the streets of Fell, he came across a sight most unexpected: A man of seemingly high material wealth standing there in the center of town, calling out to "spirits" to aid him, declaring his purpose being to "change the past." Demagogue put a hand over his teeth to prevent himself from bursting out laughing, the lights in his eye-sockets flickering with his silent laughter. Did this twit not know how to summon a spirit...? Pfft.... The demon would disappear from his spot, slowly re-materializing before the man, first the rim of his large hat, then his skull, piece by by demonic piece forming the skeleton as he seemed to step out of non-existence. Like with most mortals, Demagogue towered over the man's meek frame, a sinister smile carved into his jaw.

"Human...." He rumbled, his voice seeming to echo across the land despite the lack of proper acoustics. "Don't you know how to summon a demon...?" He raised a long, large skeletal hand over his head, fingers curled tightly into a fist as if he were going to strike the man down right there... before his boney fingers flicked the man's forehead firmly, stinging him with the annoying pain of discipline. "If you want to summon one of us..." Demagogue schooled, his voice seemingly returning to it's normal pitch. "You best learn our names first. Elseways, anything would have the ability to come after you.... and kill you.... Like me! But not." The demon chuckled softly, his teeth bending and moving as if they were lips, an unsettling sight for those that weren't used to demons. "So! You want to change the past, little man... In what way? Remembered history? Written history?"

joylss

Odd for a demon of the netherworld to speak in such a liberal manner. Nasrin could feel the demon's gaze on him---empty and intent, almost cringe-worthy, suffice to instill a quaver even in the most valiant hearts of men. ❝ And would you willingly surrender me your name? ❞ A challenge, is what he is proposing, albeit, concealing neither fear nor pleasure for doing so. ❝ For I believe your name is something I must earn, instead. ❞

Respect is a significant courtesy one must expect to pay, when conversing with a demon. Nasrin did not formerly possess a hand within the dark arts, nor submit his body to worldly turmoil for the sake of an unholy allegiance. So, this is perceptibly his first confrontation with demons like Demagogue, who undoubtedly feasts and devour on humane fears from desperate contractors like such as Nasrin himself.


In controversy to his flicking of the forehead, Nasrin all but takes a wary step backward, fabricating the distance in between them remains, though extends but yet a few centimeters still.

❝ I am Nasrin, son of Lord Pelgius and Princess Laila, the daughter of King Lanvir of Doriaty. It is I who bare the title of Crowned Prince of Doriaty, ere I am taken away by the hands of my father. However, my departure from Doriaty results in the product of its destruction. Palpably, it is me who should beheld the blame now that the Doriathim people is robbed of their lives. It is not reasonable that as their Prince, I should grasp any chance I am offered to restore my kingdom? ❞

Coyly does his words makes their depart through pursed lips, but trust is not a gift Nasrin would offer the demon so soon. For it is known, often, that demons are vile spirits of hell who wouldn't hesitate to chortle over the suffering of humans who bid them their help. A sigh, ensued later by a gesture of hand, as solemn words make their depart:

❝ Folly is the wish I am to behest, but, I only ask that this remains shared between me and you: 14 years ago today would be my ninth birthday while I am yet still a child in Doriaty. I ask that you bring me back in time, to avoid what should have been done years ago. ❞

Salzem

"And you've earned it by asking!" Demagogue smiled, knowing that this man was obviously expecting more. "Too many demon-summoners expect us to be their subservient. That respect will take you far in life, little human, especially in future dealings with us." The skeleton snickered, his stupid time pun he found extremely enjoyable somehow. "My name is Demagogue, perhaps you've heard of me. God of Destruction, Lord of lies, Demon of Deception... I have many aliases." His eye-socket shrunk as if it were an eye winking, a knowing grin on his skeletal face. "But then again, most of those come from people who refuse to do business with someone like myself." The demon lowered his head next to the man's ear, as if to tell a secret. "Between you and me, I don't think they appreciate the competition..." The skeleton laughed lightly, as jolly as a bag of bones could be before returning to the matter at hand. Demagogue smiled even wider as the man (now known to him as Nasrin) told his story, one ancient and very familiar.

I am prince of this and such, kicked out of my kingdom and now want it all back... The demon would have rolled his eyes if he had any, but instead settled for the lights that served. It mattered not his reasons nor the intentions, but this man was just as uninteresting as the rest who asked for such things. The only minor twist was that, in addition to getting his little kingdom back, he wanted all history of everything else erased. Poof'ed, gone from the history books so all future generations would only know him as their divine ruler of hell or whatever title he preferred. At least, that was what he thought until this man suggested a great magical taboo: Time-Wizardry. He actually, physically wanted to go back 14 years to stop something from happening. 14 solid years upon which the demon had already built the foundations of his plan. This would not do at all. Demagogue smiled strangely at the man's request as if he didn't quite understand what he wanted.

"Well, happy 20th birthday, Nasrin. I'd take you somewhere but..." The demon looked around and shrugged, his shoulders rolling in their sockets. "...there doesn't seem to be anywhere else to go. Besides that... let me get this straight... A bastard son (the fatherless kind) wants to reclaim a kingdom he's wronged... not by earning their trust back like the hero he claims to be but... through the cheap escape of Time Magic..." Demagogue's tone was obviously judgemental and harsh, seemingly offended the man would suggest such a thing. Based on everything from his hair to his boots, Nasrin was what anyone would attribute as a good-guy or, more specifically, a "Pretty-Boy" good-guy, the kind that do any form of heroism no matter how dirty and somehow come out even more good-looking than before. At least, that's what Demagogue attributed him as. He disliked being proved wrong.

"Are you gonna run from your mistakes so easily, little man? How long can I expect before you call me again? One year? Two? Perhaps I should cause a bit of calamity amongst your people just to see if you'll "reset" again. What do you think? Sound like fun?"

joylss

The demon may flaunt and deride his ridicule so much as he pleased, come what those deplorable words may bring. They would only come to be negated in vain conclusion whereas Nasrin remains yet at end, a faux pas of intruding evil befouling the many lives of men. But even so, these men may only subject blame to their own uncompliant, insatiable demands, when ultimately the measure of greed is what that caused their inevitable pitfall.


The Demon of Deception may ring a foregoing bell in the pivotal foundation of his subconscious memory, instances where the nature of humans is best known vulnerable. Temptations to shed blood for the sake of gold-lust, or feigning friendship to furnish an impoverished opportunity, but predictably it is unlike Nasrin to be enslaved by the momentum of greed and envy itself, for while he is not ordained a being of heavenly body among celestial beings, long has it been since he had breached the mastery of emotional bout!

❝ Think what you may, Demagogue. For long has it been since I perceived you to be the oppressive kind. Your words bear no glory and your actions deceitful. However, I shall have you see me into the past, for I only need to thwart my parents from conceiving me, and project necessary means for my grandfather to permit Shagad, my half-brother, to ascend to the throne!

His command is without remorse, firm, as if he mind is rightfully made. Demagogue shall find it hilarious to play his hand into this, and watch the misery of mankind unfold when he withdraws without shame. ❝ Perhaps, come dignity should we have a bet? Are you willing to whet your unparalleled immortality to ratify I am not without success? If so, then, by all means I bid you----challenge me!


He had thought his actions are best prosecuted to divert the demon's attention, while Demagogue remains yet fit in the mood, providiing him with the liberty of discourse to warrant his proposition had not provoked the demon's ire.

Salzem

"You really are a selfish little creature, aren't you?" The demon laughed. "Have you no thought for anyone else, little man? What if your little time-hopping makes it so I end up dying before this point? What if you actually make it worse by doing all of this? Time isn't something you should be so eager to mess with." The skeleton actually frowned for once in his demonic life, his mouth curling downward as the man proposed his challenge. He was so damned determined to get to the past and fix all of this... Why Demagogue didn't kill him yet was beyond him... at least... thats what he wanted to think... The truth was, he sort of empathized with this man. The demon had his own reasons for wanting to go back, reasons enough to risk every little thing just to fulfill his purpose like this man was right now. This was why he glared down upon the nobleman, his frown a devastatingly horrifying thing indeed. Demagogue knew what this man was planning to do was wrong because the skeleton was going to do it himself. He knew that this man had everything to gain, but also everything to lose as well, just as he had. The main difference was, Demagogue had just the tiniest confidence in himself to get the job done. He didn't share the same for this mortal who could barely struggle through 80 years. That... and at least mortals had a life worth living for in their long term. Even though the skeleton's face shifted to a frown, his eyes didn't dare go out. He wanted the glow in his sockets to draw the attention of this man, for their eyes to meet and for him to know just what the hell he was asking for right now.

"Normally... I would praise you for such selfish behavior... I would exploit you to the ends of your purse and your wit... Consider this a gift from a demon who empathizes with you, mortal: Don't mess with the gods-damned timeline. You couldn't possibly begin to comprehend the events that could unfold with you mucking it up."

With that, his smile would return, though it was obviously forced, not half the life in it that there was just a few moments ago. "Now... is there something else I can help you with...? A hat maybe.... or... perhaps your family needs saving...?"

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