Relix
Supernova
- Joined
- Jan 14, 2009
- Location
- timewastington, capitol of procastor
Denerim.
Celebration of sorts. Four years passing where a boy became a man, a mercenary becomes a Knight-Commander. His name? Riddick. For those who don't know him, he was once referred to as 'Rage', the boy who ran around with an apostate Mage, Deacon; a sleazy Rogue, Zander; all looking for his sister, Elizabeth, formerly known as 'Cloud'. Celebration of his new rank, the party .. after party only to be greeted by the sulking after everything had died down. Four years to the date, the male had lost a dear friend -- whom at the time, the two weren't very close at all -- in this very city, Denerim. Celebration with a hint of remorse for the tragedy four years ago.
His form changed tremendously, grew a few more inches to stand at six foot, six inches. Muscles being redefined, toned. Personality much of a polar opposite of what he was as a boy. Demeanor, changed significantly. Cared for himself, cared for his troops, made sure his sister stayed safe in the walls of Denerim. A boy to a man was an understatement.
Some called him a hero,
Some called him a fraud,
He called himself a failure.
"All hail, Knight-Commander Riddick!" The booming voice called, raising his class at the side of the male, sitting in the throne-like chair at the end of the long banquet table. A wide grin on his face, he had grown much, much wiser in these past four years. Scars came a plenty during his boy-years, untrained, uncoordinated, fool-hardy. Most of all; stupid, arrogant, immature. Clapping his hands together, Riddick pushed himself up from the chair, grabbing his goblet. "Brothers, sisters," His voice boomed, the bone fire burning behind him enough to light the whole section, "Enjoy your feast, may we all eat hearty, live hearty and most of all," Pausing for a moment, "Drink hearty!" Voice echoing through all of Denerim, ah, yes, his one weakness still. Booze, alcohol, the liquid poison. Taking a seat in his chair, taking a sip of his goblet. To most, none could hear them ... the little footsteps pattering against the ground. Riddick, 'Rage', but most of all, 'Big brother', could always hear his little sister's footsteps. She was twelve, taking courses in being a Templar, but she spent too much time around Zander. Rogue tendencies were very broad in her.
The smaller, girlish figure approached his chair, tugging on his arm. Riddick had already been paying attention to her, "Yes, Elizabeth?" The male spoke, his voice traveling under the chattering knights, templars, bridesmaids, whatever attended his Celebration this eve. "You can't drink that much, brother. You still need to tuck me in tonight." The girl spoke lightly, "Ah, you know, Aunt Annie would kill me if she knew I snuck you out of her house." Elizabeth giggled like a school-girl, "Aunt Ann couldn't do anything, she'd then lose me, too, Big brother." Shaking his head lightly, "What would you do, Liz, run away?" Watching the girl shake her head in reply, "Yes! I would run! I would become big and strong, like you, and come back and crush mean old Aunt Ann."
Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.
Riddick excused himself for the moment, he needed to put his little sister down for bed. It was getting late.
Hand moving to stop Elizabeth, that familiar horn ringing in the distance. "We're under attack!" Riddick shouted, turning to Elizabeth, "Stay he-" His attention moving around him, watching her skitter along down the steps, two knives in hand. "Elizabeth!" Riddick shouted, grabbing his Axe, running down the steps after her.
One dead. Two dead. Three. Four. The numbers quickly rising, ah, just like the days before. Rage chasing down a ghost, looking for his sister, slaying everything in his past. But, these weren't darkspawn, they were ... human. What the hell was going on? "Cloud!"
Little to be known to Riddick, his little sister had found their old friend, long presumed dead; Deacon. She was running straight for her, her little voice squeaking out 'Deacon'. Too far for the male to even hear.
Celebration of sorts. Four years passing where a boy became a man, a mercenary becomes a Knight-Commander. His name? Riddick. For those who don't know him, he was once referred to as 'Rage', the boy who ran around with an apostate Mage, Deacon; a sleazy Rogue, Zander; all looking for his sister, Elizabeth, formerly known as 'Cloud'. Celebration of his new rank, the party .. after party only to be greeted by the sulking after everything had died down. Four years to the date, the male had lost a dear friend -- whom at the time, the two weren't very close at all -- in this very city, Denerim. Celebration with a hint of remorse for the tragedy four years ago.
His form changed tremendously, grew a few more inches to stand at six foot, six inches. Muscles being redefined, toned. Personality much of a polar opposite of what he was as a boy. Demeanor, changed significantly. Cared for himself, cared for his troops, made sure his sister stayed safe in the walls of Denerim. A boy to a man was an understatement.
Some called him a hero,
Some called him a fraud,
He called himself a failure.
"All hail, Knight-Commander Riddick!" The booming voice called, raising his class at the side of the male, sitting in the throne-like chair at the end of the long banquet table. A wide grin on his face, he had grown much, much wiser in these past four years. Scars came a plenty during his boy-years, untrained, uncoordinated, fool-hardy. Most of all; stupid, arrogant, immature. Clapping his hands together, Riddick pushed himself up from the chair, grabbing his goblet. "Brothers, sisters," His voice boomed, the bone fire burning behind him enough to light the whole section, "Enjoy your feast, may we all eat hearty, live hearty and most of all," Pausing for a moment, "Drink hearty!" Voice echoing through all of Denerim, ah, yes, his one weakness still. Booze, alcohol, the liquid poison. Taking a seat in his chair, taking a sip of his goblet. To most, none could hear them ... the little footsteps pattering against the ground. Riddick, 'Rage', but most of all, 'Big brother', could always hear his little sister's footsteps. She was twelve, taking courses in being a Templar, but she spent too much time around Zander. Rogue tendencies were very broad in her.
The smaller, girlish figure approached his chair, tugging on his arm. Riddick had already been paying attention to her, "Yes, Elizabeth?" The male spoke, his voice traveling under the chattering knights, templars, bridesmaids, whatever attended his Celebration this eve. "You can't drink that much, brother. You still need to tuck me in tonight." The girl spoke lightly, "Ah, you know, Aunt Annie would kill me if she knew I snuck you out of her house." Elizabeth giggled like a school-girl, "Aunt Ann couldn't do anything, she'd then lose me, too, Big brother." Shaking his head lightly, "What would you do, Liz, run away?" Watching the girl shake her head in reply, "Yes! I would run! I would become big and strong, like you, and come back and crush mean old Aunt Ann."
Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.
Riddick excused himself for the moment, he needed to put his little sister down for bed. It was getting late.
Hand moving to stop Elizabeth, that familiar horn ringing in the distance. "We're under attack!" Riddick shouted, turning to Elizabeth, "Stay he-" His attention moving around him, watching her skitter along down the steps, two knives in hand. "Elizabeth!" Riddick shouted, grabbing his Axe, running down the steps after her.
One dead. Two dead. Three. Four. The numbers quickly rising, ah, just like the days before. Rage chasing down a ghost, looking for his sister, slaying everything in his past. But, these weren't darkspawn, they were ... human. What the hell was going on? "Cloud!"
Little to be known to Riddick, his little sister had found their old friend, long presumed dead; Deacon. She was running straight for her, her little voice squeaking out 'Deacon'. Too far for the male to even hear.