Post by Omarion on Nov 2, 2009 18:01:38 GMT -5
A bit of irritation rolled through Omarion. The reasons for that irritation were clear. A single wolf had penetrated the stronghold until reaching the very throne room that he did not use. One werewolf had blown pasts the defenses and made the host of winged warriors look like fools. Annoyance rushed through his veins as if it was a very fast moving and deadly poison. Even the mental barriers and repressions he was so adept at could not fully sate the storm within himself. That beast had made it pas the perimeter guards as if they were nothing but children. Of course, the appropriate punishments had been issued to said guards, and it was dreadfully clear that those punishments would not be light. They had committed a grievous crime against the unspoken warriors code. They’d failed in their task, and even disgraced their name with letting just one adversary through the mighty walls of Namaesti.
The strategists steel clad feet clapped on the hard stone floor of the citadel as he moved towards the dungeon. The angels uninvited guest had been roughly escorted to the outsider pens per Omarion’s order. A werewolf as large as him deserved no better accommodations, and amusingly, the large cells fit him nicely. Double axes clanked against his metal protected leg as they hung loosely from leather straps. The angelic commanders footsteps were quick and precise, taking him quickly to his objective. The beast within the cells was one he knew from a previous battle within a hall of relics. The rooms they had engaged in had been demolished and ruined from the battle. This one werewolf contained a level of strength that rivaled the younger of winged descent. As the strategists descended a set of stone stairs, he recalled the battle and how exhilarating it had been to finally come across and opponent worth killing on this world.
On that day he had dropped his wrecking ball to the ground, along with the rest of his weapons. However, speaking of the giant obsidian sphere, it was obvious the weapon was not with him. Only his warhammer and duel axes accompanied him as he finally arrived at the bottom of the steps. He wasted no time in moving once more, making a bee line straight for the outsider section. There was a specific reason why he was now moving to speak with the wolf instead of the fool being executed as he should have been. It was simple, Omarion had plans for this one. The previous wolf that had tainted the halls of Namaesti was purely a source of information. He was no more important than a tool that was used and discarded as its usefulness came to an end. However, if his plans came to fruition, this werewolf would be a far more effective and sharp tool for him to use. The subtle markings of a sinister grin made a very slight appearance on the edges of his lips. The possibilities from this plan provided some amusing imaginative situations.
The strategist finally came to the outsider pens, armored hand finding purchase on the doorway and pushing it open with ease. The large angel crossed the threshold and proceeded into the area, blocking out the ferocious growls and roars originating from the captured outsiders throats. They were not his objective so they would be given none of his attention. Their one track minds were far too primitive to even garner a sample of his attention. The only time they were would even cause him to give a sidelong glance, were the ones trained by Elysia, that had been taught to attack on any angels command. Yes, they would be an effective tool once enough were caught and trained. The angelic commander still had the task of gathering and assigning certain angels as “Beast Masters”. They would be the ones controlling the beasts on the battlefield and sending them to kill or be killed, the perfect warbeasts.
Omarions rather loud footsteps stopped at the front of a certain cell, the one he wanted to see occupying the space. The strategist turned his full body to the beast before clasping hands behind his back in a regal fashion. His chin was held up with a clear arrogance as he awaited for some type of reaction or response from the wolf.
The strategists steel clad feet clapped on the hard stone floor of the citadel as he moved towards the dungeon. The angels uninvited guest had been roughly escorted to the outsider pens per Omarion’s order. A werewolf as large as him deserved no better accommodations, and amusingly, the large cells fit him nicely. Double axes clanked against his metal protected leg as they hung loosely from leather straps. The angelic commanders footsteps were quick and precise, taking him quickly to his objective. The beast within the cells was one he knew from a previous battle within a hall of relics. The rooms they had engaged in had been demolished and ruined from the battle. This one werewolf contained a level of strength that rivaled the younger of winged descent. As the strategists descended a set of stone stairs, he recalled the battle and how exhilarating it had been to finally come across and opponent worth killing on this world.
On that day he had dropped his wrecking ball to the ground, along with the rest of his weapons. However, speaking of the giant obsidian sphere, it was obvious the weapon was not with him. Only his warhammer and duel axes accompanied him as he finally arrived at the bottom of the steps. He wasted no time in moving once more, making a bee line straight for the outsider section. There was a specific reason why he was now moving to speak with the wolf instead of the fool being executed as he should have been. It was simple, Omarion had plans for this one. The previous wolf that had tainted the halls of Namaesti was purely a source of information. He was no more important than a tool that was used and discarded as its usefulness came to an end. However, if his plans came to fruition, this werewolf would be a far more effective and sharp tool for him to use. The subtle markings of a sinister grin made a very slight appearance on the edges of his lips. The possibilities from this plan provided some amusing imaginative situations.
The strategist finally came to the outsider pens, armored hand finding purchase on the doorway and pushing it open with ease. The large angel crossed the threshold and proceeded into the area, blocking out the ferocious growls and roars originating from the captured outsiders throats. They were not his objective so they would be given none of his attention. Their one track minds were far too primitive to even garner a sample of his attention. The only time they were would even cause him to give a sidelong glance, were the ones trained by Elysia, that had been taught to attack on any angels command. Yes, they would be an effective tool once enough were caught and trained. The angelic commander still had the task of gathering and assigning certain angels as “Beast Masters”. They would be the ones controlling the beasts on the battlefield and sending them to kill or be killed, the perfect warbeasts.
Omarions rather loud footsteps stopped at the front of a certain cell, the one he wanted to see occupying the space. The strategist turned his full body to the beast before clasping hands behind his back in a regal fashion. His chin was held up with a clear arrogance as he awaited for some type of reaction or response from the wolf.