Thread: The Prince be Damned (Nightingale and Safehold)

Your royal highness, we are ready. The grave-looking, elderly man in the sage robe who was one of the few men in the Princedom or the world that Alexander Cameron trusted. Only he had the knowledge and the raw ability to make this event possible. It was a shame that these events would likely mean Magister Tillman's death, every experiment needed a few test subjects but that just couldn't be helped. So it did no good to fret, especially when one had to put on a pleasant smile as he did now. Thank you Patrick. Let us proceed, then. Of course, your royal highness. The draping ends of his robe moved like a banner flowing in the outside air as he turned to retrieve his assistant and their device. After only a few moments, three more robes, Prince Alexander didn't bother to recall their names as their fates were likely already as sealed as Tillman's, accompanied the majister, carrying a heavy and considerably sized jar which was covered in dark runes. That was the catalyst, Alexander realized. The portal through which his object would arrive. He smiled, giddy with anticipation. Well, what are you waiting for?? Proceed! He forgot and then recalled a rather important detail. Ah, err, once you seal the presence chamber I mean. Of course, your royal highness. The Magister turned to the great room's massive gilded doors and waved his hand, prompting them to slam shut. Tumblers and gears activated as the high security system engaged to keep them that way. If this procedure went to shit, then the storm had to be contained within this room, even at the cost to his life, the Prince knew. Tillman and his three soon to be dead lackeys assumed their positions at opposite ends of the massive tankard in the floor before the Princes' throne. Tillman closed his eyes and lifted his arms. Great and powerful spirits, I call to thee! The lackeys began to chant a strange tongue that Alexander suspected was not meant to be heard by mortal ears. Send unto us a servant, bound by the nature and will of our mighty Prince! The chanting continued for a few minutes, with no additional pleas from the leader. Then, We offer unto thee, a sacrifice! The chanting then stopped as Tillman drew a dagger. One of the lackeys bowed before him, and Alexander smiled. Good on you, son. I'll send something to your family if I find the time. Tillman seized the man's red-haired head and cut his throat brutally but quickly. The blood seeped onto the floor and under the jar, which began to vibrate extensively. This was it. The chanting resumed as the container became more and more active, and then, finally, what sounded like a crash of thunder emanated through the room. Yes ... The runed pottery, if that is what it merely was in its true nature, cracked, and then split open to reveal a woman... The Prince smiled. This was of course not just any woman. Clad only the sheerest of thong underwear and an equally revealing top, her white skin marked by various runic tattoos and her black hair flowing and loose over her considerable chest and bust, she levitated from the site of the explosion. Tillman turned to Alexander in shock. Fool! he called out. You were to think of an agent of power, a soldier! Not an agent of corruption! She will destroy--! Alexander smiled as the babbling fool was cut off by a mystical force, his jaw snapping shut while the horror remained in his eyes. The Price turned to look at his new demonic servant. What did she have in store for the old man?