Pride and Glory (Shinsou vs Storm)

[Storm Veritas]

The luxurious bar at the foot of the Citadel took an odd form in the morning. The romantic, dark motif was scattered from the glare of the brilliant sun pouring in through a skylight that normally let the revelers soak in the stars over drinks at night. Thick, large sofas, typically occupied by high-priced whores and movers were now almost abandoned, and the overpaid staff bustled about cleaning the place. The squeak of washcloths created a bizarre melody, steins chirping as a handsome barkeep prepped his inventory, systematically hanging the pristine glasses from hooks high above the bar. The lone patron this morning stretched himself in a large chair, fashioning a low table into his private ottoman.

“Sir, perhaps a whiskey?” The tall, thin waiter stood by the hip of Storm Veritas, whose steel-soled shoes shined brightly atop the low mahogany coffee table. Nervous, the waiter’s hands trembled as he held a small notepad and pen to take the order. His eyes stayed low, averting from the wizard.

“Relax, champ, don’t shit your britches on my account. Gonna be a big day, but I’ll be keeping everything above board. Just a coffee, double steeped, maybe a touch of hazelnut.” Immediately, the disarming smile of the would-be politico broke any tension in the room, as the lean adventurer flashed his bright white teeth and rested his hands harmlessly across his stomach, running a single finger along the seam of the satin vest that snugly wrapped his lean frame. He was dressed more suitably to represent the government in court, but still held the reputation that led people to see only one thing – killer.

Noon will come early. Gonna need to be sharp to make today work.

The Citadel was an interesting place for Storm. It called to the freaks of Althanas – the beautifully gifted, the monsters, the heroes. Where the experienced electromancer fell upon that spectrum would vary depending on who was asked, but his power was not up for debate. Here, a warrior could push the envelope, as the risk of death was known to be artificial. Here, he could open things up, and see what was left of him. The magician’s self-assessment was brutal, and required confirmation.

Slower than shit now, but the lightning has never felt stronger. Hurts to get out of bed, back and knees feel more like sixty than forty, but my magic leaves me a GOD regardless. Let’s see if I can’t split the earth in half today.

Shinsou was one of the few he could test himself against, but his motivation was much more specifically targeted than a simple measurement of manhoods. When the letter had arrived to him only days ago, Storm’s business dealings immediately ceased to take a throwaway fight with a man who also fluttered from closest friend to bitter rival. For all his silly samurai stylings, Vaan Osiris was every bit as smart as he was lethal. He shared a pragmatic worldview and no shortage of ambition. The fall of the Brotherhood was more tied to the tandem’s joint inexperience than lack of ability, and Storm knew Shinsou simply needed a push.

Sipping gently at the hot, richly flavored crest of his coffee, Storm raised the cup and thanked the now-charmed waiter with a few golden crowns. Turning coldly, the white-blue eyes of the mage tightened into thin slits as he stared in at the cup of swirling brown and steam, feeling the gentle whisper of steam against his freshly shaven jaw.

Sure, it’s nice to give myself a little reminder, put on a show for these peasants, but there’s heavier lifting for today. I need him to remember who HE is, and remind him that these little half-assed gestures of good-natured competition are entirely beneath him.

Our destinies are intertwined, and they involve greatness. Today I shake the cobwebs loose; tomorrow we take our town back.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The funnel wall of the Citadel’s portal snapped and crackled as the electrical substance that comprised it bent to the Ai'Bronne's every whim. Strange, tendril like anomalies morphed and swirled in front of Shinsou’s face as the arena panned into focus. The Telgradian judged the two foot gap between the lip of the portal and what appeared to be some sort of stone path and stepped down perfectly; Shinsou’s foot pressing, for the first time, onto the cold, hard floor of the monk's creation.

A creation from his memories.

Shinsou had recalled every small detail and had sent word ahead to the powerful guardians of the Citadel to work their magic. With an approving nod, the spellsword surveyed the wonderful work that had taken place in his absence.

The glistening surface of a white marble path carved an icy garden in two. It was covered with crispy, frost covered leaves, the kind that could be found in the aftermath of a bitter winter’s morning, and as his footsteps crunched one by one Shinsou cast his gaze to the Telgradian "Council of Five" chamber grounds.

Ah, the nostalgia. How long has it been? Five years? Ten?

Just ahead, that familiar silver gate stood at least three times the height of the ten foot wall on either side of it that encircled the chamber of the Council of Five. It was topped with crystalline spires that glinted like diamonds in the low morning sun. The dome shaped structure was made of some sort of white granite. Finely carved statues adorned the edges of the gate around its massive iron doors. Shinsou had seen the decorations before, although he couldn’t make out any of the statues from memory. Heroically posed warriors, insignias of Telgradia and the Council of Five and assorted coats or arms were some of the more prominent statuary, breathtaking in their beauty and refinement.

As he approached the door, Shinsou stopped to take it all in and then pressed his hand against the iron door on the right. After a bit of a struggle it slowly opened on its massive chrome hinges.

The revered halls of the Council of Five’s chambers were as silent as a crypt, and almost as dark and eerie. In Telgradia, the mausoleum like structure was well guarded and kept away from any official Telgradian military buildings. It was used only to summon the most powerful of warriors, including his father Telos Soltair, and was so scarcely attended that anyone walking its cold corridors could feel an empty chill reverberate down their spine as they peered at the empty walkways. As the heavily reinforced doors slammed behind him, Shinsou settled and took a moment to investigate the replica of the building he had been away from for over ten years

Far over his head, vaults and arches sailed up and converged in a classical array of marble carved embellishments. A row of marble columns rose to the ceiling and created an avenue that extended past the end of the dome chamber in which they stood. At the end of this avenue a white statue of a goddess, shrouded in celestial robes, loomed over the walkway with a single hand held towards the heavens. The floor consisted of a myriad of marble slabs that led to a centre circle underneath the peak of the dome, from which all other passageways through the building were connected. Here, the flooring was laid in such a way that the emblem of the Council of Five was sketched out over the circumference of the room.

Every detail etched. It's probably better than the original.

Shinsou once again set off, walking a straight path between the columns in silence. The lay-out of this section of the building was similar to several of the other royal buildings in the complex; high, narrow windows of colourful stained glass, patterned to portray important events in Telgradian lore. They alternated with the pillars, dark with the lack of any background light. Under these, tucked into coves far into either side of the corridor, were strange pedestals that contained small statues of previous council members. Rows of lighted, scented candles flickered on top of tables positioned either side of these figurines.

Shinsou couldn’t help notice that the Council of Five’s inner chambers was as enormous, and as disquieting, as any other part of the main building from the outside. It was then, as he cast his gaze down, he felt a lone power preparing to materialise at the end of the corridor.

The spellsword stopped, brushing a thread of chestnut brown hair from his face, as his golden eyes steeled onto the forming portal. He took his coat off to reveal a sleeveless black top, baring his arms to the world, and concentrated his trademark dark matter spell into his palms. Instead of producing a projectile, the two dark matter nucleuses instead expanded within their respective hands and cladded Shinsou's fists, like gloves, with a black and purple marbled membrane. He had tried this once in sparring with Josh, and now he would put the dark matter spell to new use here again, in a situation where he was without his sword to aid him.

Come on Storm, don't keep me waiting.