The Fall of the House of Jagannath (Open, PM to Join)

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The Fall of the House of Jagannath (Open, PM to Join)

Post by moondrummer »

(Serious, experienced RPers only, please. Realistic characters wanted. This RP will be dark and intensely violent, but is not intended to be gory for its own sake.)

Tell me, Great Sahib, of the One called Shamar abd'Sokar, last son of the great and dying Jagannath family and protector of the Emperor...

"Wake up!"

Ice cold water stung Shamar's face, and he didn't have the luxury of lids to protect his eyes. He spat water from his mouth and coughed, shaking his head. The sneering lizard cleared in his vision.
"Dawn comes early for traitors," the lizard spat.

He struck Shamar across the face with the bucket. Shamar used the jerk of his head to locate his blade - set in its sheath on a pair of pegs against the far wall. Shamar feined rage. He snarled and fought the manacles on his wrists.
"Traitor? Who dares accuse ME - a roryal guard - of treason!" Shamar roared. "I have more noble blood in my veins than you have in your entire family, sssscum!"

The lizard's cold golden eyes narrowed in amusement.
"Such spirit. Good."

Shamar glanced at his surroundings. It was difficult to see anything in the dim light. A lone torch burned on the wall. A barred window was set into the ceiling, though it was too early yet for any sunlight to shine into the dungeon. A second figure lay limp and chained to the wall near the door, his face bloated after several days of death. Maggots writhed under the lifeless skin and dripped from black, cracked lips. Somewhere, a man screamed. Shamar could smell the cooked meat of his flesh as it was flayed off in neat, smoking strips. There was a fireplace and a table. What lay on the table...

The lizard picked up a small obsidian scalpel. He kissed it gently, like a child, sauntering toward the chained serpent.
"Do not insult either of us by forcing me to explain the rules. I would also respectfully advise you, Shamar Surud abd'Sokar Ibn'Jagannath, not to attempt escape. As you may have noticed, you have been cooled. Even if you somehow broke your bonds, I doubt you would have the energy to resist the guards around the corner."

Shamar tested his muscles. Their response was sluggish. But not sluggish enough. Whoever had captured him did not know he was Stormcircle, capable of fighting even with cooled blood, even on the brink of collapse. Shamar met the eyes of the lizard.
"If you know my name, you musst alsso know more. What, then, is the point?"

His hiss turned into a steam-kettle snarl of pain. The lizard drew a slow, bloody spiral in his flesh with the scalpel, just under his chin. Disgusted with himself, Shamar clenched his fangs and fell silent. The lizard curled his lip.
"You think you are brave, snake. I have broken brave men before."

He backed away, set down the scalpel, and yanked a long iron poker from the fire. The end glowed white. The lizard stalked toward Shamar. The white light from the poker's serrated point seemed to flicker against its own reflection as it inched toward Shamar's left eye.

Shamar's thick muscular tail curled around the lizard's waist as fast as a whip. Shamar gave a hard jerk, heard the lizard's lower spine break with a wet snap, and squeezed the lizard's head with his coils to muffle the dying shrieks. It took a full minute while the lizard flailed and twitched like a broken marionette.

Shamar searched the corpse with his tail tip, found the keys, and in moments was free of his bonds. A steel-plated tricerotops armed with a battleaxe filled the doorway. Shamar flicked the iron poker up into his hand with his tail as the dinosaur charged. It flew like a javelin, searing a tunnel through the guard's windpipe and rupturing out the back of his unarmored neck laced with bits of the pink inner tissue like an hour d'ivoire of crab meat.

Shamar pounced to the wall. Two more roaring prison guards ran into the torture chamber. Shamar drew steel, spun in a full circle on his flexible, thick tail, and gutted one guard all in one fluid movement. The second slipped in his steaming intestines, knocking his blow wild. Shamar's backhand sprayed the guard's blood across the stones of the far wall. Shamar rammed him with his head, and the second guard careened into the fireplace.

Shamar watched while he became a screaming, burning dervish, scraps of scales and skin floating upward as ash. The eyes bubbled and burst, melting into sizzling jelly down his cheeks. His cheeks seared away to expose bare bone. Shamar slammed the smoldering guard into the wall.

"Who ordered my arresst?" he hissed.


Shamar growled, raised the man off his feet, slammed him back into the wall again.

"S..s..someone the regent knows! Aaaaaarrhh!"

Shamar bared his fangs. He gripped the reptile's smoking head in both paws. His talons dug into what little flesh remained. They drug long, deep trenches of boiling blood that oozed down his cheeks and hissed as it reached the guttering candle flames his remaining skin had become.
"A name! Give me a name! TELL ME!"

"Alhatal.." the reptile said in a voice that gurgled and collapsed in on itself.

Shamar's eyes grew wide with horror.
"You LIE!" he hissed. "Alhatal is dead!"

"Sobek spare me...for aiding...the Shadow Horse."

Shamar swept the table clear of its impliments and planted the dying guard on it.
"I grant you the mercy of a swifter death," he snarled, and jabbed the lizard torturer's obsidian blade into the reptile guard's open mouth.

The guard spasmed and died, pinned to the table. Shamar sheathed his bloodstained falchion, slung it onto his muscular back, and slither-staggered down the dungeon tunnel toward the light of the stairs. His vision swam. Too cold. He was too cold. He could feel his heartbeat dangerously slow.
Hast Character Profile - Detailed:

Shamar Character Profile - Detailed: