Elthas_Belthasar
12-18-12, 05:11 PM
(Closed to a certain Orc Hero. If you want I am willing to do PK's in this since the monks would just bring us back anyway. :D )
Elthas was no stranger to the halls of The Citadel.
As always, the twisting spires touched the clouds above, Elthas felt the weight of the all the laborers who built the damn thing. This view always impressed me. It is the inspiration of many of my paintings. Elthas was an artist when he was not hunting The Syndicate's enemies. Some of Elthas's paintings sold for a premium on the market. As his cover identity, he was an art dealer and professional painter. It was a perfect cover up job for one of The Syndicate's finest Bounty Hunters.
Very few people knew of Elthas's true identity.
Elthas wore a fancy suit that day. His top hat was tipped at a slight forty five degree angle, and the suit's jacket was worn open. He had his gear with him, a well forged crossbow and his daggers. Elthas was lethal with those blades, but he didn't have to dress like a savage. His face was somewhat upward as he looked at the spires of The Citadel. He knew inherently that The Citadel was a machine of war. A place where people could worship The Thaynes of War. Elthas looked down and took a pull of his pipe. It was a variant of the cannibus herb that was quite popular with Human youth. It tasted exceptionally sweet, and went down his throat easily. He exhaled from his nostrils, the sign of a true smoker.
He held the pipe aloft with one hand, and his other hand held a pocket watch.
Looking down at the time, as if it really mattered, Elthas smiled.
"The hour is upon us." Elthas said allowed, and a monk of the order approached him.
"Master Belthasar, not busy with your paintings today?" The monk asked. He was a younger fellow, likely a neophyte or initiate. That guy kept his hair. Many monk initiates often shaved or wore long, braided ponytails similar to The Akashiman chi masters.
Elthas smiled, it was a sincere gesture. "Ah. Brother Hammond. Good to see you again." Elthas spoke in a meticulous sort of way, his accent was heavily that of a Ruildian. According to The Thayne Codex, Concordia Forest was also known as Ruild. I don't know if I believe in The Thayne, but I certainly have seen a lot of strange stuff. Elthas wore glasses, they were square and worn low on his nose. His eyes were vibrant and filled with intellectual capacity, a natural hunger to live. In another life, Elthas would have been gifted in the arcane arts, but he cast aside that aspect of his people's way of life. Instead, he studied his martial skills. That is what brings me here this day. Elthas observed to himself. I must be fully prepared. Elthas adjusted his stance and his cloak swished with the movement. The hood was worn down, likely cause of the top hat, and the back of the cloak strangely had no marks.
Elthas appeared as any other suit might appear.
The only thing that differentiated Elthas from the other gladiators of The Citadel were his sharply angular features. A common trait of The Elf folk. Most predominantly, Elthas had sharp and long ears. They extended at a severe angle from either side of his head. Also interesting, was that Elthas wore jewelry. His ears were pierced with simple gold studs. The other notable feature was that Elthas had a long and slender nose, it was intact and surprisingly not broken from constant warfare. Elthas's suit was a combination of black and grey. That was the color of his long sleeved shirt, visible because the suit's blazer was worn open. Elthas wore a long tie, it had a basic blue pattern which was the only colorful thing on his person. The top hat he wore also had a long feather attached to one side, it was very pretty.
Elthas stood at impressive stature as he looked at the monk.
"I recently sold a few painting. Mayhaps you would like to visit my studio sometime?" Elthas commented.
"Ah." Hammond responded. "I would like to view your next batch of art. How is old Seth doing?" Hammond asked.
Elthas grinned widely at the mention of one of the few people that he gave a damn about. "He is well. I am on assignment now, which is why I am here. I must keep my skills sharp at all times, never know when the next big hit is going to come down the pipe line."
They both laughed at that.
Elthas sincerely liked Hammond, and many of the other monks. They were an agreeable lot, and didn't ask too many questions. They don't need to know what goes on behind closed doors... Elthas looked at Hammond.
"Seth is well. As I mentioned. He actually had me send you something." Elthas said. He produced a small package that had the markings of The Terrentius household.
"A gift?" Hammond asked.
"Something of that nature." Elthas narrowed his eyes. "It's more like a payment for allowing me and my colleagues to use the facilities undisturbed."
"The Citadel is open to all..." Hammond began.
"You don't have to treat me like one of your students, Hammond." Elthas began, his voice raised ever so subtly. "I understand that this is a legitimate business being run. Your services requite potential funding for future generations do they not?" Elthas asked. It was actually quite a serious observation on Elthas's behalf.
"A donation then?" Hammond asked, he raised an eyebrow with some speculation.
"An investment." Elthas corrected. "In the very near future more of my colleagues will be coming. I would personally appreciate that you continue to respect the vow of silence I have asked for. That my superiors have asked for." Elthas said.
Hammond thought carefully about what was being said. "I shall speak to Father Abbakus about this mater." Hammond assured. "If he agrees, you will have the recommendation you seek." Hammond said.
"What must be done?" Elthas asked.
"Well if this is your first time at The Citadel..." Hammond became suddenly very serious. "...You have to fight."
"I understand." Elthas said. "Then let us prepare an adequate chamber for civilized folk." Elthas said.
"Elthas, do well and you shall be rewarded." Hammond said casually.
Elthas agreed. "It's a business transaction of course. So I find the terms agreeable." Elthas took a pull of his pipe once more. Then, he put out the embers to smoke a victory smoke after the battle was over. "Let the populace know one is welcome. Of any walk of life. But please give it to the first one who arrives." Elthas said.
"Chamber sixteen is ready for your calibration, Master Belthasar." Hammond said.
"Cheers, sir." Elthas responded. He tipped his hat in the general direction of his companion. "By the way, Hammond. If this can be arranged I'd very much like..." Elthas told Hammond the configuration for The Citadel chamber he wanted.
***
A short time later, Elthas stood in an art museum. It was a center popular in Radasanth, where many artistic minds gathered. It was an ironic setting for a long battle to the death. Elthas specified to Hammond that deaths would be okay. Even his own.
Elthas observed a very specific painting that fascinated him always. It was a detailed depiction of the ancient Hero, Radasanth of Corone bearing the sword of Radasanth aloft. Elthas studied the style of painting and identified it as the Radasanthian wing realism. Radasanth was a multi faced culture, a melting pot of the known world. Elthas always admired that about the city, but most of all, he always admired that it could still breed great Heroes. Elthas was a romantic. I view life as an on going tapestry. Many of my people do, each new piece of the tapestry adding to what came before. Each weave of the fabric represents a multitude of the choices that have gotten us all to this very moment. There were spectators too, many individuals wearing nicely trimmed clothing as they observed the various faces of Radasanth's artistic culture.
As always, Elthas impatiently looked at his gold stop watch. Maybe, that was a nervous habit that he'd picked up. His eyes darted from the numbers and ticking hands of the stopwatch, to the painting. He was studying specific Demon War era artists, and certain modern influences that were post The Civil War in Corone. Many of the current artistic pieces on display were actually a collection of anti-empire propaganda prevalent at the time. It all was so disgusting to Elthas. The art itself was beautiful, but the meaning behind the art disturbed Elthas. He knew who The Syndicate was bed buddies with. If only the dregs knew that remnants of their enemy, still amassed power and haunted them in the dark. Elthas rarely cared about politics, but that time...that time seemed like a finely thinned dagger piercing his innards.
The monks had done a tremendous job readying his chamber.
And once his opponent arrived, there would be no quarters held, or shits given.
Elthas was no stranger to the halls of The Citadel.
As always, the twisting spires touched the clouds above, Elthas felt the weight of the all the laborers who built the damn thing. This view always impressed me. It is the inspiration of many of my paintings. Elthas was an artist when he was not hunting The Syndicate's enemies. Some of Elthas's paintings sold for a premium on the market. As his cover identity, he was an art dealer and professional painter. It was a perfect cover up job for one of The Syndicate's finest Bounty Hunters.
Very few people knew of Elthas's true identity.
Elthas wore a fancy suit that day. His top hat was tipped at a slight forty five degree angle, and the suit's jacket was worn open. He had his gear with him, a well forged crossbow and his daggers. Elthas was lethal with those blades, but he didn't have to dress like a savage. His face was somewhat upward as he looked at the spires of The Citadel. He knew inherently that The Citadel was a machine of war. A place where people could worship The Thaynes of War. Elthas looked down and took a pull of his pipe. It was a variant of the cannibus herb that was quite popular with Human youth. It tasted exceptionally sweet, and went down his throat easily. He exhaled from his nostrils, the sign of a true smoker.
He held the pipe aloft with one hand, and his other hand held a pocket watch.
Looking down at the time, as if it really mattered, Elthas smiled.
"The hour is upon us." Elthas said allowed, and a monk of the order approached him.
"Master Belthasar, not busy with your paintings today?" The monk asked. He was a younger fellow, likely a neophyte or initiate. That guy kept his hair. Many monk initiates often shaved or wore long, braided ponytails similar to The Akashiman chi masters.
Elthas smiled, it was a sincere gesture. "Ah. Brother Hammond. Good to see you again." Elthas spoke in a meticulous sort of way, his accent was heavily that of a Ruildian. According to The Thayne Codex, Concordia Forest was also known as Ruild. I don't know if I believe in The Thayne, but I certainly have seen a lot of strange stuff. Elthas wore glasses, they were square and worn low on his nose. His eyes were vibrant and filled with intellectual capacity, a natural hunger to live. In another life, Elthas would have been gifted in the arcane arts, but he cast aside that aspect of his people's way of life. Instead, he studied his martial skills. That is what brings me here this day. Elthas observed to himself. I must be fully prepared. Elthas adjusted his stance and his cloak swished with the movement. The hood was worn down, likely cause of the top hat, and the back of the cloak strangely had no marks.
Elthas appeared as any other suit might appear.
The only thing that differentiated Elthas from the other gladiators of The Citadel were his sharply angular features. A common trait of The Elf folk. Most predominantly, Elthas had sharp and long ears. They extended at a severe angle from either side of his head. Also interesting, was that Elthas wore jewelry. His ears were pierced with simple gold studs. The other notable feature was that Elthas had a long and slender nose, it was intact and surprisingly not broken from constant warfare. Elthas's suit was a combination of black and grey. That was the color of his long sleeved shirt, visible because the suit's blazer was worn open. Elthas wore a long tie, it had a basic blue pattern which was the only colorful thing on his person. The top hat he wore also had a long feather attached to one side, it was very pretty.
Elthas stood at impressive stature as he looked at the monk.
"I recently sold a few painting. Mayhaps you would like to visit my studio sometime?" Elthas commented.
"Ah." Hammond responded. "I would like to view your next batch of art. How is old Seth doing?" Hammond asked.
Elthas grinned widely at the mention of one of the few people that he gave a damn about. "He is well. I am on assignment now, which is why I am here. I must keep my skills sharp at all times, never know when the next big hit is going to come down the pipe line."
They both laughed at that.
Elthas sincerely liked Hammond, and many of the other monks. They were an agreeable lot, and didn't ask too many questions. They don't need to know what goes on behind closed doors... Elthas looked at Hammond.
"Seth is well. As I mentioned. He actually had me send you something." Elthas said. He produced a small package that had the markings of The Terrentius household.
"A gift?" Hammond asked.
"Something of that nature." Elthas narrowed his eyes. "It's more like a payment for allowing me and my colleagues to use the facilities undisturbed."
"The Citadel is open to all..." Hammond began.
"You don't have to treat me like one of your students, Hammond." Elthas began, his voice raised ever so subtly. "I understand that this is a legitimate business being run. Your services requite potential funding for future generations do they not?" Elthas asked. It was actually quite a serious observation on Elthas's behalf.
"A donation then?" Hammond asked, he raised an eyebrow with some speculation.
"An investment." Elthas corrected. "In the very near future more of my colleagues will be coming. I would personally appreciate that you continue to respect the vow of silence I have asked for. That my superiors have asked for." Elthas said.
Hammond thought carefully about what was being said. "I shall speak to Father Abbakus about this mater." Hammond assured. "If he agrees, you will have the recommendation you seek." Hammond said.
"What must be done?" Elthas asked.
"Well if this is your first time at The Citadel..." Hammond became suddenly very serious. "...You have to fight."
"I understand." Elthas said. "Then let us prepare an adequate chamber for civilized folk." Elthas said.
"Elthas, do well and you shall be rewarded." Hammond said casually.
Elthas agreed. "It's a business transaction of course. So I find the terms agreeable." Elthas took a pull of his pipe once more. Then, he put out the embers to smoke a victory smoke after the battle was over. "Let the populace know one is welcome. Of any walk of life. But please give it to the first one who arrives." Elthas said.
"Chamber sixteen is ready for your calibration, Master Belthasar." Hammond said.
"Cheers, sir." Elthas responded. He tipped his hat in the general direction of his companion. "By the way, Hammond. If this can be arranged I'd very much like..." Elthas told Hammond the configuration for The Citadel chamber he wanted.
***
A short time later, Elthas stood in an art museum. It was a center popular in Radasanth, where many artistic minds gathered. It was an ironic setting for a long battle to the death. Elthas specified to Hammond that deaths would be okay. Even his own.
Elthas observed a very specific painting that fascinated him always. It was a detailed depiction of the ancient Hero, Radasanth of Corone bearing the sword of Radasanth aloft. Elthas studied the style of painting and identified it as the Radasanthian wing realism. Radasanth was a multi faced culture, a melting pot of the known world. Elthas always admired that about the city, but most of all, he always admired that it could still breed great Heroes. Elthas was a romantic. I view life as an on going tapestry. Many of my people do, each new piece of the tapestry adding to what came before. Each weave of the fabric represents a multitude of the choices that have gotten us all to this very moment. There were spectators too, many individuals wearing nicely trimmed clothing as they observed the various faces of Radasanth's artistic culture.
As always, Elthas impatiently looked at his gold stop watch. Maybe, that was a nervous habit that he'd picked up. His eyes darted from the numbers and ticking hands of the stopwatch, to the painting. He was studying specific Demon War era artists, and certain modern influences that were post The Civil War in Corone. Many of the current artistic pieces on display were actually a collection of anti-empire propaganda prevalent at the time. It all was so disgusting to Elthas. The art itself was beautiful, but the meaning behind the art disturbed Elthas. He knew who The Syndicate was bed buddies with. If only the dregs knew that remnants of their enemy, still amassed power and haunted them in the dark. Elthas rarely cared about politics, but that time...that time seemed like a finely thinned dagger piercing his innards.
The monks had done a tremendous job readying his chamber.
And once his opponent arrived, there would be no quarters held, or shits given.