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Post by Admin on Oct 27, 2012 19:20:29 GMT -6
With word of a potential uprising spreading like wildfire through the streets of Pandemonium, tensions are starting to rise. To defend against potential threats, a curfew has been issued - the first since the War. It is being enforced by the already over-taxed Elite. Against a rising tide of animosity and hate, there is but one thing sure to placate the ravening throng.
The outside portion of the Gardens - home of the nobility - has been opened up to the public. Weekly festivals and tournaments are held, providing the denizens of the capital with free food and entertainment. Among the entertainment are gladiatorial matches. Winners live to fight another day, and the losers are used as ingredients in the free food and trophies for prizes.
It remains to be seen if this ancient bribe will be taken, or if the denizens of Hell will rise up against the High Chancellor...
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Post by emrys on Nov 7, 2012 22:22:08 GMT -6
'Today... Today you die! You die! Free from our prison we will be! We will be free!'
"No! Quiet, all of you! Today, I will not fall. Prisoners? More like squatters! You chose my mind to call home, I did not choose you!"
Emrys sat in his holding cell beneath the colosseum, arguing his mind's inhabitants. Over their ravings, he could hear the roars of the crowd above.
Hushed murmurs of the other slaves and prisoners sent a hum throughout the brimstone hallways. To Emrys, the sounds were maddening. Standing quickly, he darted toward the bars of the cell and slammed his body against them. "Silence you insolent curs! I demand it! I'll see you all slain this day, tongues cut out and ears torn off!" With his rage sated, Emrys stumbled back to his bench; slumping over, he lay his head in his hands and wept.
"On this day, I WILL be victorious. This I promise you, my love"
'I do not doubt your skill my sweet. By your hand, these filthy wretches will fall. The crowd will bow to you, riffraff and nobles alike'
"Elysium, I will not fail you." Emrys raised his head, rage filling his eye. As he stood, he could hear the muffled speeches of the politicians and nobles above, he cared not for what they had to say of this day of celebration, he only cared for the blood that would stain his hands.
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Post by Narrator on Nov 12, 2012 0:13:09 GMT -6
A large Fallen - gone somewhat to seed - strolls up between the heavily barred cages. A smaller, slighter Devil walks with him, his lips curling as though he smells something that disagrees with him. In the hands of both are buckets full of thick, dark liquid.
The Devil hangs back, tail twitching irritably, and lets the Fallen approach Emrys.
"It looks like there's been a change in the line-up," the Fallen says gruffly, sounding rather annoyed. "Your opponent was found slaughtered." He sighs and hefts a bucket. "You would not believe the hoops I had to jump through to arrange this, but it looks like you'll be fighting against the Hellhound alphas instead." He lifts one of the buckets. "To make it more interesting, you'll be drenched in the blood of their butchered pups." The Fallen chuckles. "It makes them enraged, you see."
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Post by emrys on Nov 18, 2012 3:01:22 GMT -6
Raising his head, Emrys glared and the heavy Fallen. The longer he listened, the more angry it made him. "You would have me to fight dogs?!" The fighter's attitude was far from approving. "I've trained against Fallen and Demon alike, some even dwarfing you, fat one, and I'm being put out to fight DOGS?!"
Snarling, Emrys slammed his fist against the brimstone wall. "So be it," he snapped, through gritted teeth. "Your pups will not taste my flesh. Only my steel as I slay every last one of them."
Standing in the small cell, bathed in Hell's sunlight through the small window over looking them Emrys outstretched his arms in a messianic pose, "Now please, open this door and bathe me in that putrid smelling liquid life."
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