Arch_Nemsis
07-16-14, 05:27 PM
Nosdyn was looking at the old Orc once again.
Battle was second nature to his people, and he enjoyed frequenting The Citadel's halls. It had become an addiction, a sort of blood sport for Nosdyn. He was certainly happy that he'd found such a structure early in his career, a dedication to the gods of war and death. It had become an understood transaction, so long as the monks provided Nosdyn with constant fuel to feed his thirst for battle, Nosdyn would oblige. Further, Nosdyn would not attack The Citadel on principle that they were providing HIM a service. It was a win-win. Nosdyn walked with in silence with the old Orc for a long moment. Then, as he arrived at his usual chamber, the Orc turned towards him and spoke.
"Nosdyn." The Orc began. "Have you thought about why you're pushing yourself so hard?"
Nosdyn listened to the monk speaking, and let the question linger for a moment before he answered. "War is the very nature of my people. It cannot be escaped, and I cannot allow myself to grow weak or soft."
"You were born to unfortunate circumstances. In an unfortunate regime." The monk said calmly. "I have a proposal...URK..."
Nosdyn's hands were suddenly wrapped firmly around the old monk's throat. He was gripping tightly. "Listen to me VERY carefully old one." Nosdyn did not have to stand there, and allow one of those bastard monks insult his people and his way of life so he was going to send the monk a message. "If you insult my people ONCE more, I will make sure you die a horrible death." Nosdyn spoke in the most horrible, and terrifying fashion he could think of. He allowed his presence of fear to reach it's fullest potential. "I am in the service of Overlord Zieg. You can either assist me in my service, or stay out of my way." Nosdyn said calmly. "I will change, or bend for no man. Prepare my chamber and then your duties to me are through. Find me a more willing monk to assist me in my journey." Then, Nosdyn released the old monk who fell to the ground gasping for air. "Prepare my usual combat arena."
***
Nosdyn was angry.
Angrier than usual, the old monk had disrespected his people. And inadvertently, disrespected HIM. He was going to say something, but that doesn't matter. He was likely going to attempt to convert me to some cause or purpose, and make me loose sight of myself. I cannot allow anybody to make me weak...only the strong survive. Nosdyn thought to himself as he stood in place. It was a perfect replica of his chosen combat arena: Concordia Forest. He would allow specific opponents the chance to declare chosen arenas. But for now, Concordia Forest...was a fine enough battle ground. Nosdyn liked what worked. He walked towards the large husk of a fallen tree, and stood up on the bark.
It made him a little taller than what he physically was.
He felt the weight of the bark shift ever so slightly, but it held. It was a thick old oak, and it had recently fallen. Nosdyn did not have time to prepare a campfire that time. He was simply too angry to care about fine things at the moment. He wanted to take his anger out on someone or something. So he activated his weapon, and the familiar humming sound filled the air. He activated the full brunt of his fear mantle, he was going to make someone PAY for the monk's insolence. He was angry, frustrated and had a tremendous urge TO KILL.
And kill he would.
For war was his very nature.
Battle was second nature to his people, and he enjoyed frequenting The Citadel's halls. It had become an addiction, a sort of blood sport for Nosdyn. He was certainly happy that he'd found such a structure early in his career, a dedication to the gods of war and death. It had become an understood transaction, so long as the monks provided Nosdyn with constant fuel to feed his thirst for battle, Nosdyn would oblige. Further, Nosdyn would not attack The Citadel on principle that they were providing HIM a service. It was a win-win. Nosdyn walked with in silence with the old Orc for a long moment. Then, as he arrived at his usual chamber, the Orc turned towards him and spoke.
"Nosdyn." The Orc began. "Have you thought about why you're pushing yourself so hard?"
Nosdyn listened to the monk speaking, and let the question linger for a moment before he answered. "War is the very nature of my people. It cannot be escaped, and I cannot allow myself to grow weak or soft."
"You were born to unfortunate circumstances. In an unfortunate regime." The monk said calmly. "I have a proposal...URK..."
Nosdyn's hands were suddenly wrapped firmly around the old monk's throat. He was gripping tightly. "Listen to me VERY carefully old one." Nosdyn did not have to stand there, and allow one of those bastard monks insult his people and his way of life so he was going to send the monk a message. "If you insult my people ONCE more, I will make sure you die a horrible death." Nosdyn spoke in the most horrible, and terrifying fashion he could think of. He allowed his presence of fear to reach it's fullest potential. "I am in the service of Overlord Zieg. You can either assist me in my service, or stay out of my way." Nosdyn said calmly. "I will change, or bend for no man. Prepare my chamber and then your duties to me are through. Find me a more willing monk to assist me in my journey." Then, Nosdyn released the old monk who fell to the ground gasping for air. "Prepare my usual combat arena."
***
Nosdyn was angry.
Angrier than usual, the old monk had disrespected his people. And inadvertently, disrespected HIM. He was going to say something, but that doesn't matter. He was likely going to attempt to convert me to some cause or purpose, and make me loose sight of myself. I cannot allow anybody to make me weak...only the strong survive. Nosdyn thought to himself as he stood in place. It was a perfect replica of his chosen combat arena: Concordia Forest. He would allow specific opponents the chance to declare chosen arenas. But for now, Concordia Forest...was a fine enough battle ground. Nosdyn liked what worked. He walked towards the large husk of a fallen tree, and stood up on the bark.
It made him a little taller than what he physically was.
He felt the weight of the bark shift ever so slightly, but it held. It was a thick old oak, and it had recently fallen. Nosdyn did not have time to prepare a campfire that time. He was simply too angry to care about fine things at the moment. He wanted to take his anger out on someone or something. So he activated his weapon, and the familiar humming sound filled the air. He activated the full brunt of his fear mantle, he was going to make someone PAY for the monk's insolence. He was angry, frustrated and had a tremendous urge TO KILL.
And kill he would.
For war was his very nature.