Thread: The Scourge of Truassley (Poppy x J_Jester)

Return to the palace, a voice commanded, the man getting off his horse and grabbing his sword from the saddle, turning to look at the obsidian castle with a certain, confident swagger. His green eyes glinted with the reflected heat, as a light smile appeared on his face. M-my lord, you can't mean to say you plan to enter there yourself, a knight protested, an older man with graying blonde hair and a patch covering his left eye, the vampire is in there, and who knows what else. It would be insane for you to... I appreciate your concern Sir Davith, but I'm the only one among us who has the church's pendant. Any knights coming in with me would be a liability, the Prince said, he turned his head, his finger ran along the chain on his neck which lead to the protected medallion safely tucked under his shirt and breastplate. Unseen, the pendant was a silver circle, marked with a sword cracking open the land, a common motif for the church to symbolize breaking apart the hostile ways of the land. I don't see how we would be... Sir Davith began to argue. The Prince cleared his throat, You heard the priest. No magic will work on me, her thralls won't be able to detect me, she'll be as helpless as any women when confronted with a knight. But if you go in, or any knight? Well, she'd suddenly have willing hostages, you've seen first hand what these creatures can do to men, he stated with a smile, his confidence brimming, besides, think of the story, Logan Velmuri, first of his name, ridding this land of an evil by himself. The bards will write songs for court, I'm sure, Logan chuckled, strapping his sword to his waist. Fine... the older knight said begrudgingly, the other dozen or so knights there traded unsure glances at the decision, but all began to turn their horses, To the south of here is the town of Brigan, about a days journey on foot, there you can get safe passage back to the palace once the deed is done. We'll have knights there to escort you back, Sir Davith explained, giving his Prince one last look. I'll be fine Sir Davith, may the faithful welcome you as they'll welcome me, Logan nodded, giving a short wave to his traveling companions before turning and beginning his walk to the castle. Soon the sound of hooves clattering against the stone littered road dissapated, Logan was alone on his journey, as he preferred it. Logan Velmuri was the first born son of Fredrick Velmuri, making him heir to the Trussaley Empire's throne. Perhaps there was no person in the Empire more suited to the position as he was. Tall with black hair which fell from his head, and a matching black stubble, he was the only child of him and his siblings to inherent his late mother's eyes and hair, the handsome prince was a warrior, known for his skill with the sword and his fearless, always confident behavior. More importantly, however, he was beloved by the common people and knights who served under him. It was no secret that Logan would drink in common taverns and visit brothels, often paying for his knights to spend an evening as well, many a peasant maiden knew him, for a brief time, intimately, and many men of low birth joined the ranks of his soldiers simply because of tales of his exploits. Even the church paraded him as a living saint, one who slew those creatures, those monsters that tainted the land. The church, behind closed doors, knew better though. Logan wasn't pious, nor was he particularly kind or good willed. He was an ambitious Prince, one who could display great cruelty, to both the monsters he had bested, and those who would seek to undermine him. Members of the clergy who protested his promiscuous behavior had a habit of disappearing, as did nobles who sought more power than he felt comfortable with. He kept his siblings in line as well, both his younger brother and sister knew well never to challenge his claim to the throne. But the church, and the nobles, were powerless, unable to wriggle away from his iron grip. He had the love of the people, the admiration of the soldiers, and the name and bloodline to solidify his power. He knew this, and he knew that killing the Vampire queen would only further his own ambitions, for if one of the greatest evils of the land fell by his hand alone, who could possibly challenge his capacity to lead and rule the Empire to a better time? Why a volcano? Logan muttered to himself, his armored fingers wiped the beads of sweat from his head as he trudged on. Logan's position as Prince afforded him the ability to be as physically impressive as he was mentally, as underneath the plated grey armor and the thick clothes under that was a body lined with tone muscle. His stature was only made more imposing by his armor, his Empire had learned to be practical, in the harsh land, above all else, leading to plate made of a dead grey color, only with small designs of his Kingdom's seals near his collar, and on both forearms. Beneath that, he wore simple clothing, a heavy white shirt and brown pants, padded enough to maybe stop a blade which found its way through the armor. He was going to make this his personal castle once the deed was done, any fortification in these destitute lands was valuable, and the ash the gaping earthen maw spewed made the soil of the land actually fertile. But the intense heat was making him reconsider. He walked, unopposed, into the castle, he wasn't sure if there simply weren't defenses, or if his pendant stopped them from being triggered. In either case, he was sure his task would prove easy. He had used the pendant once before, a male vampire had a den inside the bustling capitol, he was powerless before Logan, only able to claw and use a dagger, which to a knight means little. The Prince had dealt with demons whose size would blot out the sun, strip away the magic of a vampire, and they were nothing more than a peasant by comparison. Finally he entered the throne room, still a confident sway to his step as he looked up at what he would be killing. He didn't believe the rumors, he thought he'd find a withered, fanged husk, dry and craving blood, a monster, but instead it was a woman of legendary beauty, one he would take in a heartbeat under different circumstances. He looked up, seeing her atop her throne of bones and armor, Carmilla, I presume? he said with a slight, dry chuckle to his voice, I am Prince Logan Velmuri, first son of the King. I'm about to be known for killing you, come, get off that throne, kneel down and I'll make it quick, his fingers tapped the hilt of his sword, he was ready for her to lunge or attack.