Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Jan 23, 2008 11:17:10 GMT -6
The myriad of circumstances makes Nyxereos feel patronized. His instinct is to fire off at the fallen recruit of how logistics and tactics do not constitute the makings of a true field commander. No amount of learning can substitute the unmistakable grit of an outstanding officer. He is not at all impressed with her self promoting words and he simply turns his head toward her.
His words are frigid as the northern prevailing winds and sharp as needles. "No. I will not." He is glaring at her through his black eyes. "If I am forced to choose then I must be allowed to... choose... my way. If any of you weak beings can prove you are fit for more than the filthy scavengers bellies on the rotting battlefield, then I'll be forced to promote... the first who can prove it, not just fly empty words of self-worship. Others say you are worthy... We shall soon see..." Nyxereos says with black contempt and malice in his voice.
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Post by Lysandor on Jan 23, 2008 21:35:57 GMT -6
Lysandor smirks to Ciel at Nyxereos's outburst. "He is showing some potential." He sobers, and continues, "But do not think that I am giving him a gift by making him squad leader for these cadets. They are here because they were hand-chosen by their commanding officers. Whether they intend it or not, this will give them a sense of superiority, as seen most strongly in the Dark Elf. This attitude will be the downfall of many of them, and Nyxereos as well. If a cadet shows disrespect or carelessness in training, he will be punished along with them."
He pauses to let the implications sink in to Ciel. "While the attitude will not last very long, the system will endure until these cadets either fail or graduate full Elite. That allows for plenty of time for the cadets to make mistakes and for Nyxereos to learn his place and himself."
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Post by Ciel on Jan 24, 2008 1:40:34 GMT -6
Ciel smiled as well and crossed her pretty arms. "I was thinking exactly that. He does not just take what is tossed in front of him like raw meat in front of Thane."
Ciel nodded to his second comment. "If he takes this as a gift, then our youngling really is mistaken and does not know anything. And as long as he can keep his head and not kill them all, you should get some very talented Elite from this bunch."
She shifted her weight, and in that low voice meant only for Lysandor's ear, continued. "Though I must say I still do not thoroughly trust the youngling. There is just something about him that strikes me in such an unappealing way..."
She turned to Lysandor. "I cannot quite put my finger on it, but it is there. How can you trust him not to cut and run, even under the tutelage of you and the Chancellor?"
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Nyxereos
Bourgeois
The Dark Earth
Posts: 102
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Post by Nyxereos on Jan 24, 2008 13:43:35 GMT -6
Nyxereos is simply vexed by this new predicament. He wants nothing to do with these demons yet now he is strapped to this ticking time bomb of incompetents. His thoughts are ravenous as they fuel his mental fires of paranoia and anxiety. He is visibly huffing now as he has become almost angry.
As angry as he can get for his state anyway. Dumped into servitude to a underling, humiliated, fueled by hate and revenge, branded a traitor, stripped of his glory, remade into a being of trash and refuse only to be discarded to serve those demonic hoards that he has despised and looked down upon for nearly an eon.
What small bit of his former persona that still remains, is the only bit of Rashiel that shall only bring him naught but torment for the rest of his days.
Guilt.
Now he is Nyxereos, the dirt of the pit of hell. The disfigured abomination he had made for his own transgressions. Regent simply made the transfiguration possible, and it was Rashiel who made himself Nyxereos. His own mind is the betrayer of his heart, the last part of what he would become was brought upon himself.
Regent knew this and removed Rashiel's heart, for he could foresee the ultimate despair that would be the end of Rashiel. Now this is his own legacy, Rashiel was to throw all to ruin and in return, Nyxereos has become the hand of ruin itself.
Cleaver this Regent, damn him, damn him... for I have b... become my own t... tormentor. Who better to be the toll master of the harshest of judgments than that which we serve the verdict to pass the maximum of sentences upon ourselves.
The temporary clarity in his head makes Nyxereos snap. His tears return but now they are black and streak down his face like oil. His rage now full height as it were before his transformation. His hate for himself has made him powerful beyond measure. But his self induced madness has crippled his mind to use it and consequently he has damned himself because of it.
He stands silent shivering from his rage, and now the pain burns within him as his self loathing poisons his shattered mind.
The only thing the others can hear of him whispering to himself, "I have lost."
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Post by Ciel on Jan 25, 2008 10:16:12 GMT -6
Staying turned to Lysandor bodily, she turned her head to look at the new Fallen and shook it. She looked back at Lysandor and smiled sadly. "Did he know how much of his fate he sealed when he did what he did? Did he know that eventually he would become what he hated so much? Do you think, Master Elite, that he chose this madness of his anyway?"
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Regent
Bourgeois
The Regent of Darkness
Posts: 246
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Post by Regent on Jan 25, 2008 12:32:49 GMT -6
High above the court yard a lone figure watches the training from the shadows in the main tower. His electric eyes are keen on his new pet and he wonders how this test of devotion will unfold. Many have been tested for the Elite, but this is his first taste of the splendor of it all.
His crackling eyes zoom and focus on this Commandant of the guard. Confident and nearly emotionless this Elite takes his top batch of select warriors and reduces them to mere recruits. Very interesting this tactic. Tear them down to rebuild them into a unit to act and react as a whole, remove the basis of self and replace it with the loyalty of unity. The very fiber and creed of the Elite corps. He has seen it in action for himself and it is most beautifully efficient... and equally deadly.
Regent wants to get a closer look and he slips over the railing like a ghost and disappears into the shadows with nothing more than a whisper.
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Post by Lysandor on Jan 27, 2008 10:38:31 GMT -6
"I do not trust him," Lysandor replies matter-of-factly. "I will watch him to make sure that he does not kill my cadets or the other Elite, and to make sure he does not try to abandon his post, though I am sure that would not be his plan. Where would he go?"
Lysandor watches Nyxereos's emotions get the better of him. On one had, the Fallen Elite cannot help but feel for him and for his loss, but he realizes that it was Nyxereos who brought himself so low and so far from the world he knew.
"I think he did not expect to be kept alive," Lysandor says. "He was fully aware that he would never return to his former home, that is one reason he did not care if he kept his wings or not. If he had known that this would have been the consequences of his actions, I think he would have thought his escape through a little more."
Lysandor looks over at the cadets. "It is time to see them in action." He raises his voice, and though he isn't shouting, the cadets can hear him. "Move out to the Battle Arena."
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Post by Ciel on Jan 27, 2008 13:29:54 GMT -6
As she watched the cadets file out, Ciel tossed her head. "Well then, at least we are in agreement on that. I am sure that none of us trust the thing."
She looked up at Lysandor with eyes that said volumes. "And it is even sadder how it doesn't even trust itself. Are we doomed?"
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Post by Narrator on Jan 27, 2008 15:30:01 GMT -6
The recruits snap to Lysandor's orders. To the battle arena. Long hours of training and conditioning play in their memories. The daunting gray stone coliseum where countless demons have trained, battled and either won their honor, or were crushed beneath its stone edifices into oblivion. A place of endurance, valor and sacrifice all too familiar to those who call themselves a soldier of the legion. The training ground these recruits all know too well... all save Nyxereos. They hop to the order and make for the arena double time. They enter the great gates and make down the long steps for the circular wall at the rear of the grand steep, sunken stadium. They line up to await Lysandor and Ciel. To Be Continued at: rpgqod.proboards38.com/index.cgi?board=soldierforge&action=display&thread=1201470552
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