Thread: Daggers of the Mind [Darkangel76 & Slairlayh]

The new Lord Marshall could hear the whispers of his fellow comrades if only because he could smell the unease dripping off the cold of their paled flesh. Was it fate that had decided to bring them beneath the rule of an outsider? Was it fate that brought them at the mercy of one whose race had been wiped out by their own hands? The Furyan tasted their fears with a smugly curved lip, his penchant for chaos feeling right at home in the midst of all this unsettled tension. Truly the odds of him finding comfort in a throne like his was beyond anyone's expectations, including his own. Or so the Elemental had perceived. Do you...mind if I tag along, Furyan? Haven't you heard, Aereon? I'm the king of Necromongers now, the Furyan is no more. He saw that shine of a brow rising up in musing speculation. She didn't have to say it, he knew the beast was still there, ever frothing at the mouth and ready to chew out its next victim. Sure you can. Just don't go regretting your decision to involve me in all this. You put the bounty on my head, you're responsible for anything I do to disrupt that so called 'balance' of yours. Indeed. Perhaps I wish to remain at your side for that reason. He couldn't smell her like other humans since all she was was a great density of cloud, but his senses still told him she had found a curiosity in him greater than her natural disposition towards neutral objectivity. He seemed to have that effect on people--made them fight against their own instincts. No wonder everybody around him dies. Perhaps I wish to see how the balance tips in yourself as well. Riddick had left Aereon to her own devices since then. He'd felt her breeze glide through the hallways and hover near his presence, but the two had not conversed once they'd left Helion Prime. It might be that she knew he didn't want her near him, it might be that he was avoiding her. Either way, she was worse than the holy man. A man that lived in faith was at least amusing. A woman that believed only in logic was...frustrating, to say the least. Lord Marshall, we have arrived. His body lay limp in the throne until Vaako expressed that tightening impatience of his with a small gruff. Riddick then pulled his goggles back down over his eyes, pushing away the helmet that one of his waiting maids offered over his shoulder. Will you not wear-- I know you think that this Quasi-Dead of yours is really important, but I'm not the Quasi-Dead and I am not wearing their faces. If we have that clear, I suggest we move on. He ignored Vaako's semi-apology and picked himself up off the throne to start making way for the doors that were beginning to crank open. He stopped just as the commander turned to follow. You guys don't seem like the type to carry around wheels, but do you at least have something fast that rides low? There are the scouting ships, we have a few. But they only carry a small crew of men and then some. Do I need any more? My Lord, Riddick could hear that slight grinding between the man's harsh breath and tight jaws. The convict now ex? always did delight in upsetting the people around him, but he had to admit that the warrior's extreme level of self-control made it all the more fun. We do not know how much Furya has changed since we last passed through over three decades ago. There may be new people residing here, some even rebellious. If you will not take a fleet, you must at least take with you a guard. He tilted his head back and gave the other lord's shoulder a heavy pat. Aw... How sweet. If you're so worried, why don't you be my guard? If the Lord Marshall commands it... He also had to admit, the awkward position of actually being the authority for once sort of dampened the fun. Sure. The more the merrier, right? Get that ship prepped for me. I'm going to get some fresh air.