A Sentry For Nothing (Special RP)

Subject: A Sentry For Nothing (Special RP) Mon Dec 01, 2008 1:55 pm

Very few beings traversed the upper levels of the Karthro Dynasty. Of the hundreds of cytoplast catwalks and small structures that made up the different chambers of the Dynasty, the top three levels had so few people on them that those below would likely have difficulty even noticing them. Of those three upper levels, the top was the emptiest, inhabited at the moment by only three beings. Two Devkarin Elite guardsmen walked back and forth infront of a set of double-doors, curve-blade pikes always at the ready... These two dark elves were Szadek's personal guard, and traveled little farther than ten or fifteen feet away from the front doors of the Throne Room. The Throne Room, however, was located in the Eastern side of the level.

The question that would have raised on anyone's mind, should they seek council from Szadek, or visited the top level for some other reason...was the lone Necrosage that stood sentry infront of an empty wall, watching everything through eyeless voids that had seemingly been punctured into a blackened skull... This Necrosage was not made the same as those that were used by Szadek and his rulers to converse between the realm of Shadow Nexus and that of Sadhadur, in which the Empire lay. No, instead, this Necrosage was dressed in - surprisingly, for his apparent level of importance (being one of four known beings that walked the top level without ever rising a question from the guards) - rather tattered robes of a mage. The robes, tattered as they were, were obviously those of one who had practiced in Ancient Arts. The intricate symbols that lined the sleeves and neck of the robe were evidence enough of that. The Necrosage held, in his left hand, a trinket, from which rose a minuet billow of steam, coming from the java held in the trinket. In his right hand, he held a simple Wakizashi...the rest of the Daishō was worn beneath the back of the robes, in two differing size sheaths strapped securely to the Necrosage's waist. At a glance, it was evident that the Necrosage carried a very great deal of purpose. Upon closer look...it appeared that that purpose was simply to guard a brick and cytoplast wall.

As one of the Devkarin guard came into his line of sight, the Sentry of Nothing lifted his Wakizashi and tilted his head to the warrior of death, who likewise saluted the full-dead mage before rounding on his heels and returning to the door. Even the two Devkarin guards did not know what that Necrosage guarded...though they had heard an unbelievable amount of rumors from those on the lower levels, who have seen the guard that watched over nothing. To the Devkarin, it was not even the fact that he guarded a plain wall...it was the fact that he never moved...never ate...never slept. He never blinked, or scratched at something...he simply drank from that minuscule trinket, which one of the men from the level one below would bring up to him at every dawn...and that one drink would stay hot as red steel from then, until the boy came to collect the empty trinket and refill the java the next day.

That would be, of course, until the day the boy decided to ask about the charge of the Necrosage. "Why do you stand sentry for a wall?", the boy had asked. Nothing. "What's the wall's secret?", the boy said, next. Still nothing. "I want to see what's so important about this wall!", the boy declared, reaching out with his left hand for the bricks. He was frozen solid in his tracks as for the first time in a decade, that Necrosage turned his skull so the eyeless pits were focused directly on the boy. In less time that it took for the scream of terror to reach from the boy's heart, to his lips, only to find itself cut off...the short, perfect blade of the Wakizashi passed through the boy's abdomen with little resistance, severing him from the third rib up on the right to the left hip. As the boy's halves hit the ground with two dull, moist 'thud's, the Necrosage simply turned his head back the way it had been for the better part of a decade before. The trinket in his hand was released, and the left hand was engulfed by a deep violet color. This deep violet enveloped both the boy's halves, as well as the trinket. Then, as suddenly as it had came, the glow was gone. The boy and the trinket had gone with it...and the Necrosage once again became a Sentry of Nothing.

Subject: Re: A Sentry For Nothing (Special RP) Thu Jan 01, 2009 12:35 am

It had been a decade since the incident with the coffee boy had taken place. Since then, there had been no more re-occurring incidents had taken place. Nothing had happened for nearly a decade and a half, before that one fateful day, when the secrets of that very wall had nearly been unraveled by a rogue Devkarin Priestess. As usual, the Sentry had been sitting on a stool infront of that wall, Wakizashi in hand. Even the Necrosage's eyeless portals where drawn to the magnificent beauty as the Priestess strolled seductively towards the guard, both Devkarin guards following close behind, seeming as if in a trance. While he had to admit in thought, that the Priestess was beautiful, physically, he smiled. He knew what the Devkarin Priestess was there for. There was only ever two things a Devkarin Priestess would be there for...as entertainment for the guards, or as entertainment for the Parun, Szadek Karthro. Now...while It was possible that she was there for the guards, she was not dressed the part in the slightest... As for the Parun...the Sentry knew that the Parun was not in his own Personal Chambers.

What he could not figure out, though, was how...or even if....the Priestess knew about what he guarded. He did know, that for entertainment, she had quite a bit of auras about her to conceal her intentions from him...and that, alone, was enough to lead the Sentry to suspect her of attempting to figure out his secret. He stood from stool as she drew nearer, reaching behind his robe with his free hand - the one not holding the Wakizashi - and withdrawing his Katana. Staring through his eyeless pools of darkness at the female Devkarin, his legs ached to step forward...and he obeyed. The Devkarin failed to stop her progress. The Sentry rose his Katana, sheathing the smaller blade to grip the samurai blade's hilt with both hands. The Devkarin stopped. Had the Necrosage been among the living, a wave of relief should have passed through his core. He remained still, Katana risen, unfeeling of the emotions that should have been, knowing only his duty to protect the Unreachable.

The priestess smiled at the Sentry, curtsying...almost mocking him. "Hello, there, Sentry....I see you are true to your duties to the great Parun, Szadek. Tell me, Necrosage...how do you plan on dealing with your fellow guards?" At a tilt from the Priestess' head, the two Devkarin Elites rushed forward, only to be felled in a single arch of the Sentry's Katana, which was afterwards brought back to the raised position in the same reverse-arch motion. "Impressive...I see Szadek has chosen his Personal guard wisely...a change, from when I was his object of undeniable interest." The Priestess' smile faded, and she produced - from a strap on her back - a thin stave, topped with multiple rings hanging freely above a large orb that was set solidly into a three-prong, talon-like structure of the staff. "I'm tired, though, Sentry...and in a hurry. So I hope you can forgive me for making this quick..." With a sweep of the stave, and a quick word in Ancient Devkarin, the Priestess sent a wave of energy that collided viciously with the Sentry, throwing him like a rag doll into the wall just behind him, where his hand, and the Katana, fell loosely to his side, the Katana releasing from his grip and sliding just inches out of reach. The Sentry's body slumped to the ground, less than lifeless.

The Devkarin approached the area behind the Sentry's post, examining the wall thoroughly. Smiling, she stepped back, raising her staff to the wall. Another fit of Ancient Devkarin, and a swirl appeared infront of the wall. Soon after, the wall disappeared, giving way to a stairwell that lead deep into the wall, and almost into a straight incline. Her eyes widened, and a maniacal grin blessed her face. She took a step forward. Nothing. It was as if she were stepping against the wall that was no longer there. "What the Hells is this?!", she cursed. From nowhere, a masked voice, deep, and rough, echoed throughout the floor. As the voice reached her ears, it sent a chill down the Devkarin Priestess' spine. Or maybe, perhaps, it was the blade that had pierced that spine, that sent the chills.

"That, love, would my last warning that you would suffer a fate far worse than death, should you continue in your pursuit of the Unreachable." The Sentry, who's apparent body was still slumped on the ground feet away as the Priestess began to turn, quickly withdrew his Wakizashi from Priestess' midsection, allowing for a spurt of dark, nearly blackish red blood to spill from the wound. "How?" was the only word that escaped the Priestess' lips - which were already turning an unimaginably dark shade of toxic purple - before the transparent figure of the Sentry spun and severed her skull from the base of the neck. As it hit the ground with a dull thud, The Sentry returned his transparent form to his felled body. Laying atop the body, he sank into it's confines, only to have it rise once again, grabbing the Katana on it's way up as if in a mechanical trance. "For a Devkarin necromancy priestess...you don't know very much about Necrosages...as long as my creator remains amongst the living...I cannot be slain...comes in handy...as you can see."

Once more, the Sentry called forth the dark void that would suck up the body and repair the atmosphere. The head of the Priestess, however, was left untouched. As the void dissipated, the Sentry reached down, and plucked up both the head, and the stave. With a mighty drop, the Sentry plunged the orbless end of the stave into the solid ground of the corridor. Then, with a squishy, messy plop, he affixed the head of the Priestess to the staff, as a warning for those who would try an attempt at her treachery in the future. Though he could not repair the magics that had concealed the stairs, the Sentry worried not. Sure, it would raise plenty of questions pertaining to where they lead...but as the boy decades earlier, and the Priestess just moments ago had learned...those that asked would soon figure out that questions were not rewarded in kind answers. So, the Sentry sat on his stool once more, and affixed his gaze on the spot in which his body had lain only moments ago...and there, his pose held still.