Posts : 87
Join date : 2009-05-25
Age : 106
Location : Waco, TX
HFS Name: Sleet Gil-shalos
Class: Healer, Wizard, Alchemist, Assassin, Warrior
|Subject: King of the Mountain Sat Aug 20, 2011 8:42 pm|| |
King of the mountain (Bhurtok rp)
King Molgrim stood staring out of the window of his mountain domain, basking in the glory of his own power. The heavy wooden door to the room opened, a gargoyle shuffled inside dragging a young man by his shirt collar. The creature threw the captive to the feet of its king, “I brought you a present master,” the gargoyle snarled.
The boy staggered... to his feet. He was tiny, his shoulder reached mid thigh on King Molgrim. The king gave a nod to his gargoyle minion, grabbed the boy by the shoulders and turned him to the window. The king adjusted his armor and his cape making himself more presentable for his guest.
“Do you know who I am boy?” The king bellowed.
The boy nodded shakily, “Yes sir you are Molgrim, the ogre that took mountain castle of Bhurtok.”
“I am King Molgrim, king of this island now!” He roared into the boys face. The boy froze in place, paralyzed by the scream. The king eyed the boy a moment before he recomposed himself. I led the boy to the window.
“Do you see the nation before you?”
The king liked that, yes sir, it felt right to him; it would feel better if the boy called him your majesty, but the boy was still young enough to learn. The king swept his hands across the view, “All things within these mountains are mine, boy. I need not even fear an attack as the boulders dropped into the pass block all who would dare attack my kingdom.”
“Sir?” King Molgrim raised an eyebrow at the boy, his captives never addressed him, he gave a curt nod and gestured for the boy to continue, “How did you take the mountain?”
King Molgrim let in a long breath, oh how he loved to tell this story, “Ah, you see young one I waited until the right time to attack, and the kingdom was mine.” His deep voice rang out in the chamber. “Your armies were always away, you best soldiers off assaulting other realms.”
The king began to pace around the room giving life to his story with his actions, “When the time came to defend your land from the creatures that live here already your soldiers had to spread themselves very thin, leaving no one to guard your queen.”
The king walked back to the window and pointed at the valley far in the distance, “From the Valley of Ash rose the armies of the damned, the torn corpses and discarded bones of thousands of fallen warriors walk again to torment and murder all they find,” the king pulled the boy close to him, “but they rarely stray far from their valley.”
The ogre king pointed at lowlands where a river died, a horrible swamp near the bay. “Then came the reptilians and their shaman, taking your people away to perform their dark rituals. They walk the marshlands, but no further.”
“Your soldiers were sent out to deal with these threats and others. It was then and only then, that I used the might of my blade. On that day I shred my way past rock, obliterated stone and pulverized brick to carve a hole large enough to bring my armies in.” The ogre king clentched his fist and continued, mad with power, “I defeated and exiled your queen and became king of the mountain, KING MOLGRIM!” His maddened bellow rocked the walls of the room.
The room was quiet for a moment, until the boy had the courage to speak again. “Did you bring me so that you could find the rest of my people? I won’t tell you anything.”
The ogre king gave the boy a puzzled look and shook his head “No boy, you are not a messenger, not of any kind.”
“Then what am I sir?”
King Molgrim smiled, “Lunch.”
When the meal was over, the gargoyle approached the king having waited patiently for him to finish. The claws on his feet clicked on the stone floor as he hopped toward the king, “My king where is your weapon? Where is the ax that can hew stone as easily as chop wood?”
The king leaned against the wall of his chamber staring out the window, “It was stolen. I was wounded fighting the queen and it was taken by the soldiers here as they fled, lost to pirates after that.” The king sensed dissent in the gargoyle, he spun and grabbed the creature by its neck with one hand “But that doesn’t mean I can’t crush you just as easily.” The ogre applied pressure forcing the gargoyle to it’s knees.
“No master, of course not,” the gargoyle choked. The ogre released the gargoyle, who stumbled back away from the kings reach. The gargoyle rubbed his neck and smiled, “I just wanted to warn you a new boat is approaching, a battleship.”
“No king, it is just nomads. Nomads that are following the queen of Bhurtok herself,” The gargoyle hopped back through the doorway claws clicking the whole way. As he closed the door he peaked his head back in, “Good luck king,” he whispered as he left.