Post by D'Kali Hegemony on Mar 16, 2014 15:05:41 GMT
The deep orange light flickered and danced over the smoothly carved stone of the chambers, casting out the cool of the evening. Large openings in the stone facade allowed for a view of the oceans to the east, and the fields of jungles to the west. Tapestry and adornments hung from brackets in the walls, breaking up the monotony of the masonry as the figures circled the room. Once the palace of the Archon of Xol’goth, the room had laid idle until now. Having arrived separately with the small guard they had been permitted, four D’Kali glared at each other over the fire that roared in the centre of the room, encircled with a thick ring-shaped table of polished stone. Under any other circumstances, any of the four would have gladly taken any other to battle but the reason for such a meeting was far from any other circumstances.
“How long is that arrogant whelp going to keep us waiting?” one of the D’Kali growled to the air. His verdant scales were cast in an eerie tone by the firelight, mostly hidden under polished silver armour and crested tabard.
“You would be the first to complain,” snorted the startlingly yellow-scaled drake to his left, sneering back. His jet-black horns curled back menacingly around his head and only further framed the look of contempt on his snout. “Was it really such a hardship for you?”
“Oh far be for me to be concerned!” the first snapped, nostrils flaring as his spines bristled along his back “Your borders aren’t under constant threat by that fool who calls himself Archon. You sit safe across the oceans, weaving your wars,”
“Wars you would no nothing about, Borxa” growled a third figure, this time to the green D’Kali’s right. Of all the D’Kali in the room, he was the largest, both in height and stature. His deep yellow eyes shone like lighthouses among his blackened scales and his armour only matched the foreboding shade. “You do not keep your halls safe from this…pi-tagh!”
The insult brought the golden D’Kali rearing to his back feet in rage, snarling as he slammed back down to the stone floor in a thud and scrap of claws “You DARE accuse me, Crix! Your clans barely know what respect of the Gods is! Your so-called warriors are nothing more then pitiless raiders, resorting to nest-snatching and hunt-theft!”
“Oh, as though you are any better,” spoke the fourth of the invited D’Kali, who until then had been lounging against the wall near one of the windows and gazing on the sea. His armour was lighter then the others, more in hides and leathers then the full plating worn by the others, with deep azure scales where the armour did not cover. “Your vassals raid and war upon mine as much as mine raid yours. What I want to know is why Rakx would put us all in the same room.”
Borxa snorted and curled his snout impatiently “Like I truly care why,”
“You should. Do you hear what his new honorific is? ‘The Visionary’ they call him now, singing his praises from temple to temple. I tell you all, he’s got us here for a good reason, and a few t’un* ago we wouldn’t have cared…but now here we are.” Looking at the others, the dark blue D’Kali smirked “Maybe just to make us all tear one another apart”
Once again, the room burst into an uproar as each of the four argued, snarled and threatened one another. The pair of guards that each had been allowed to bring began to look more and more apprehensive and with each passing moment their claws started drifting closer to their weapons.
The growls and shouts only silenced when the deep thud of metal striking stone rang through the room. Every head turned to the entrance way, where the doors had opened to allow a new figure to enter. He was fairly tall for a D’Kali, though not as broad as some of the others. He was ornately armoured in deep reds and golds, with the crest of Archon Rakx both on his breastplate and on the banner he held. The banner was affixed to the shaft of a long-bladed spear, the butt of which had brought silence with a single strike of the granite floor. The other D’Kali knew him as Khriss, Herald of Archon Rakx. It was the Herald that acted as both the emissary and standard bearer of a D’Kali lord, and Khriss had served his sibling well in that station. The combination of his words and Rakx’s reputation in battle had brought many city-states or principalities to heel, a unique talent among the Kalisa clans.
Without a word, Khriss simply walked to the table around the fire, the click of his claws his on the stone almost deafening. Taking his place, he simply waited for the others to join him. A few moments later Rakx himself entered the room, flanked by a guard who stayed by the door and sealed it behind them. The Archon glared over the flickering fire for what seemed like hours, letting the other lords begin to truly feel the discomfort of the situation before he spoke. “Thank you…for proving my point before I ever needed to make it,” he growled. “You Archons…between the five of us, we hold fealty of more then four fifths of the D’Kali race. Almost every other Lord, Regent or Prince on Kalisa owes one of us their allegiance and yet we throw them at another instead of building something greater”
Rakx waited to see if another of the other Archons would dare interrupt him before he nodded for his Herald to continue. “Were it not for respect of your vows to Kalisa, you would have left this room bloodied with one another to claim their titles…and that is why you fail…why you squabble over scraps of hunting grounds and citadels. The galaxy is a far bigger place then the Gods saw fit to tell us until now. Long ago, we were warned the dark gods were not truly dead, they had just fled from our fury. Now we have found one of them. This automaton is a creature that we cannot hunt, but must kill. If you do not unite with each other, then you invite a darkness that has not been known since the Reckoning”
The yellow-scaled D’Kali simply snorted and started to laugh “And I suppose you would have us all simply forfeit everything to your master? Swear fealty to your little Hegemony on the steps of Rox’ka?”
“I would have you fight for something more then scraps from The Ridge or Q’areth, Lokxal” Rakx growled back. “You would keep your titles, your lordships, your vassals. Your warriors however, will no longer fight each other. They will fight the enemies of Kalisa.”
“And if the enemies of Kalisa happen to be your own?” Crix wondered coldly, onyx armed crossed over his breastplate. Rakx’s lip curled into a snarl, but a sidelong glance from his spawn-mate stopped him.
The Herald continued instead. “Your concern is more then valid enough, Lord Crix. But a bare two ka’tun* ago we all believed that the only way to gain glory and respect from the Gods was to fight each other. We know now the Gods have given us new challenges, new prey…and new threats. As long as the D’Kali have the sight to look beyond petty squabbles when we are threatened from the stars, you will continue to have every right to deal with your territory and any incursions into it,” Khriss paused to look at the others around the table, “but if Kalisa itself is threatened, your warriors will answer our call.”
“And what is to stop my fleets from sailing into your jewel of a city Khriss, while the warriors of Rox’ka are off crusading in the stars?”
The Herald looked at the blue D’Kali warlord with an off-putting smirk. “You could try, Xeral. You and your corsairs might even succeed. But look around you. We called this meeting here, in this place, to prove the point. You are in the home of the Archon of Xol’goth, the great city that kept you at heel all these long t’un*. Rakx took this city for his own while ‘crusading’ as you put it, after they dared attack him. The Gods have shown us the wisdom of our path, and even without you, we might succeed against the Automaton. But make no mistake that if we fail, then so will all of you.”
As his sibling finished, Rakx drew his sword slowly from the scabbard at his side, the meter-long blade almost singing in the stone hall. The other Archons immediately reached for their weapons, though relaxed as he placed the weapon on the table, it’s tip licked by the flames of the fire in the centre. “I leave you all to your decision, Archons. Place your blade with mine if you have the will.” With a graceful sweep of his tail, the Archon of Rox’ka turned to leave the room, his two spawn-mates moving to follow. “And whether your sword is on the table or not, prepare for war!” he snarled back over his shoulder, before disappearing down the corridor.
“How long is that arrogant whelp going to keep us waiting?” one of the D’Kali growled to the air. His verdant scales were cast in an eerie tone by the firelight, mostly hidden under polished silver armour and crested tabard.
“You would be the first to complain,” snorted the startlingly yellow-scaled drake to his left, sneering back. His jet-black horns curled back menacingly around his head and only further framed the look of contempt on his snout. “Was it really such a hardship for you?”
“Oh far be for me to be concerned!” the first snapped, nostrils flaring as his spines bristled along his back “Your borders aren’t under constant threat by that fool who calls himself Archon. You sit safe across the oceans, weaving your wars,”
“Wars you would no nothing about, Borxa” growled a third figure, this time to the green D’Kali’s right. Of all the D’Kali in the room, he was the largest, both in height and stature. His deep yellow eyes shone like lighthouses among his blackened scales and his armour only matched the foreboding shade. “You do not keep your halls safe from this…pi-tagh!”
The insult brought the golden D’Kali rearing to his back feet in rage, snarling as he slammed back down to the stone floor in a thud and scrap of claws “You DARE accuse me, Crix! Your clans barely know what respect of the Gods is! Your so-called warriors are nothing more then pitiless raiders, resorting to nest-snatching and hunt-theft!”
“Oh, as though you are any better,” spoke the fourth of the invited D’Kali, who until then had been lounging against the wall near one of the windows and gazing on the sea. His armour was lighter then the others, more in hides and leathers then the full plating worn by the others, with deep azure scales where the armour did not cover. “Your vassals raid and war upon mine as much as mine raid yours. What I want to know is why Rakx would put us all in the same room.”
Borxa snorted and curled his snout impatiently “Like I truly care why,”
“You should. Do you hear what his new honorific is? ‘The Visionary’ they call him now, singing his praises from temple to temple. I tell you all, he’s got us here for a good reason, and a few t’un* ago we wouldn’t have cared…but now here we are.” Looking at the others, the dark blue D’Kali smirked “Maybe just to make us all tear one another apart”
Once again, the room burst into an uproar as each of the four argued, snarled and threatened one another. The pair of guards that each had been allowed to bring began to look more and more apprehensive and with each passing moment their claws started drifting closer to their weapons.
The growls and shouts only silenced when the deep thud of metal striking stone rang through the room. Every head turned to the entrance way, where the doors had opened to allow a new figure to enter. He was fairly tall for a D’Kali, though not as broad as some of the others. He was ornately armoured in deep reds and golds, with the crest of Archon Rakx both on his breastplate and on the banner he held. The banner was affixed to the shaft of a long-bladed spear, the butt of which had brought silence with a single strike of the granite floor. The other D’Kali knew him as Khriss, Herald of Archon Rakx. It was the Herald that acted as both the emissary and standard bearer of a D’Kali lord, and Khriss had served his sibling well in that station. The combination of his words and Rakx’s reputation in battle had brought many city-states or principalities to heel, a unique talent among the Kalisa clans.
Without a word, Khriss simply walked to the table around the fire, the click of his claws his on the stone almost deafening. Taking his place, he simply waited for the others to join him. A few moments later Rakx himself entered the room, flanked by a guard who stayed by the door and sealed it behind them. The Archon glared over the flickering fire for what seemed like hours, letting the other lords begin to truly feel the discomfort of the situation before he spoke. “Thank you…for proving my point before I ever needed to make it,” he growled. “You Archons…between the five of us, we hold fealty of more then four fifths of the D’Kali race. Almost every other Lord, Regent or Prince on Kalisa owes one of us their allegiance and yet we throw them at another instead of building something greater”
Rakx waited to see if another of the other Archons would dare interrupt him before he nodded for his Herald to continue. “Were it not for respect of your vows to Kalisa, you would have left this room bloodied with one another to claim their titles…and that is why you fail…why you squabble over scraps of hunting grounds and citadels. The galaxy is a far bigger place then the Gods saw fit to tell us until now. Long ago, we were warned the dark gods were not truly dead, they had just fled from our fury. Now we have found one of them. This automaton is a creature that we cannot hunt, but must kill. If you do not unite with each other, then you invite a darkness that has not been known since the Reckoning”
The yellow-scaled D’Kali simply snorted and started to laugh “And I suppose you would have us all simply forfeit everything to your master? Swear fealty to your little Hegemony on the steps of Rox’ka?”
“I would have you fight for something more then scraps from The Ridge or Q’areth, Lokxal” Rakx growled back. “You would keep your titles, your lordships, your vassals. Your warriors however, will no longer fight each other. They will fight the enemies of Kalisa.”
“And if the enemies of Kalisa happen to be your own?” Crix wondered coldly, onyx armed crossed over his breastplate. Rakx’s lip curled into a snarl, but a sidelong glance from his spawn-mate stopped him.
The Herald continued instead. “Your concern is more then valid enough, Lord Crix. But a bare two ka’tun* ago we all believed that the only way to gain glory and respect from the Gods was to fight each other. We know now the Gods have given us new challenges, new prey…and new threats. As long as the D’Kali have the sight to look beyond petty squabbles when we are threatened from the stars, you will continue to have every right to deal with your territory and any incursions into it,” Khriss paused to look at the others around the table, “but if Kalisa itself is threatened, your warriors will answer our call.”
“And what is to stop my fleets from sailing into your jewel of a city Khriss, while the warriors of Rox’ka are off crusading in the stars?”
The Herald looked at the blue D’Kali warlord with an off-putting smirk. “You could try, Xeral. You and your corsairs might even succeed. But look around you. We called this meeting here, in this place, to prove the point. You are in the home of the Archon of Xol’goth, the great city that kept you at heel all these long t’un*. Rakx took this city for his own while ‘crusading’ as you put it, after they dared attack him. The Gods have shown us the wisdom of our path, and even without you, we might succeed against the Automaton. But make no mistake that if we fail, then so will all of you.”
As his sibling finished, Rakx drew his sword slowly from the scabbard at his side, the meter-long blade almost singing in the stone hall. The other Archons immediately reached for their weapons, though relaxed as he placed the weapon on the table, it’s tip licked by the flames of the fire in the centre. “I leave you all to your decision, Archons. Place your blade with mine if you have the will.” With a graceful sweep of his tail, the Archon of Rox’ka turned to leave the room, his two spawn-mates moving to follow. “And whether your sword is on the table or not, prepare for war!” he snarled back over his shoulder, before disappearing down the corridor.