- Invitation Status
- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Genres
- I am open to all types of genre's, my main ones however are Sci-fi Horror and Action. The only RP's I'd rather not due are any threads dealing with any type pf homosexual themes or manga or anime type RP's.
The two intimidating looking guards solemnly stare out into the vast expanse of harsh and empty desert. The winds lightly pelt their black armor with smatterings of sand. They stand watch at a large and impressive gate, leading to a bejeweled city within. The kingdom of Khathara lied somewhere between the aptly named Forbidden Dunes and the tormented region known as The Land Of The Black Sand. Khathara had a reputation for being fabulously wealthy. Traders, pilgrims and nomads throughout the land came here in droves just to marvel at the city's riches. Over the twilight horizon, one of the guards spots seven dark figures on horse back steadily approaching the gates of Khathara. One of the guards steps forward to intercept the mysterious riders.
"Halt nomads! What business do you have in Khathara?"
One of the riders dismounts from his steed and coolly walks closer to the guards. He is tall, clad in impressive looking leather armor, his face obscured by a tattered hood and a dangerous looking blade strapped to his back. Jericho keeps his face slightly down down turned "This is the city of Khathara, is it not?" he asks in a low and menacing tone.
"Indeed it is peasant. Now again I ask, what business do you and the rest of these dregs have here?"
Jericho slowly looks up, his tattooed face causing the guard to intake a sharp breath of surprise "We are here on the authority of the great Xsaster...and we wish an audience with your ruler."
The guard laughs "...and what makes you think that Prince Tarnnis would hold court with the likes of such peasants such as you?"
The other guard steps forward "Wait Oskor, I think I know who these riders are." He lowers his large ax and swallows hard as he scrutinizes these mysterious wanderers "They are indeed the Acolytes of Xsaster. They are the fabled Seven Dreaded, whispered in hushed rumors throughout the lore of the deserts."
"Oh for heaven sake Crayden, the Seven Dreaded are nothing more than a ridiculous myth! Old wives tales told to naughty children." says the other guard.
Another rider, a regal dark skinned man, sporting ceremonial tribal garb, unlatches his bow from his person "I can assure you guardsman, we are no myth." says El'Kadesh.
Jericho removes his hood "You have two options, soldier. You can let us pass or you can join your soon to be dead prince in the eternal flames of the Nine Realms."
Crayden looks anxiously at Oskor "Let them pass Oskor, I plead with you. Trust me, this class of warrior is way above our pay grade."
Oskor shakes his head slightly " Alright than oh mighty Seven Dreaded, just what do you want with our prince?" he says in a mocking voice.
El'Kadesh begins to draw one of his arrows in anger, but is stopped by a hand gesture from Jericho. He stares threateningly at Oskor "We are here to pass judgement on your pathetic excuse of a prince for his numerous heresies and crimes against humanity. To pass sentence of this despicable kingdom for it's transgressions against it's people." Jericho than draws his sword with eye blurring speed and holds it perilously close to the guard's throat "Gotta problem with that?"
Oskor, feeling the razor sharp edge of the cold metal pressing up against neck, breathes hard "I'm sure the prince can squeeze you in." he says with a whimper.
Jericho smirks "Most kind of you..." he says as he re-sheathes his blade, the sound of the metal echoing sharply as the sword scrapes the insides of it's scabbard.
Oskor stammers back and grips his neck, discovering that the weapon has left a small cut on his neck "Right, this way than..." he says as he nervously unbolts the large gates to permit the Seven entry into the city.