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Post by Gabriel on Jul 7, 2017 10:23:15 GMT
A courtyard in Spirit was an unexpected place to be challenged for his title. The place was innocuous - grey paving, green ivy climbing the walls, potted lemon trees on doorsteps wafting a pleasant citrus scent into the night air. It was hot, the kind of sultry summer night that Gabriel loved to spend lounging under the stars, ideally with female company. The city was still busy - it wasn't late, and all manner of people came to Spirit for all manner of things. He'd been on his way out, heading back to the Tunnels after a brief stop in the heart of Litharia for pleasure rather than business. He hadn't foreseen the woman who stopped him, purple eyes glittering, chin tilted at a proud angle.
She was an Earth Elemental, wiry and cat-like, shorter than him by a head. Wild dark green hair curled above her head, woven with marble-sized chunks of emerald and amethyst, off-setting the paler green of her skin scattered with argon freckles. With her generous lips and round face, and that exotic colouring, she was exceptionally pretty. It was a shame that he was going to have to kill her.
"Are you quite sure?" Gabriel's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, when he stopped his walk through the courtyard to turn and look at the Daemon with assessing eyes. The question was a courtesy at best - there was no way he would let her walk away from this now, even if she changed her mind. The very fact that she'd had the wherewithal to challenge him at all made her enough of a threat that dead was the only state he would now accept. She only nodded, and he had to give it to her - there was no pausing for idle threats, no stalling or playing. She hit him with a magical attack within half a second of the question he'd asked her. Obviously she meant business.
The courtyard shook and a deafening cracking sound ripped through the still night as the earth split beneath his feet. Gabriel was forced to roll to one side, away from a growing chasm in the middle of the street. A few people walking in the vicinity had already stopped to watch - a Daemon fight was an excellent spectator sport, if a rather dangerous activity since there was no guarantee of any magic being contained. Some hurried away, cognizant of this fact, but some would take the risk to see these ethereally beautiful Daemons fight to the death.
He prowled in response, skirting the edge of the courtyard with bright teal eyes fixed on the Elemental. Claws and fangs at full length, even dressed in a smart suit Gabriel looked feral, more animal than person. Already fire pooled in his hands, bright balls of flame flickering red and white and racing to the tips of his claws. His foe watched this warily and they circled each other, sizing each other up, testing the waters. This was no time for seduction, no time for his more subtle, artistic magic. They were predators, tense and snarling, on the edge of an explosion.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 7, 2017 22:07:28 GMT
Roy first heard of the challenge and fight from the other Gladiator contendors.
It’d been a normal day. He went to the Black Rock arena to fight and earn his share for the day, killed a few angry people here and there, and was just about to head out to go drinking at his favorite, messy outdoor pub when one of his sparing partners, Trovius, had run up to him with so much excitement. Trovius was not a daemon, but he was just as passionate about fighting as Roy and every now and then he’d run into the small human bastard and go out for a drink with him. Instead of a drink though, he was raving about how there was some sort of fight going done between a big time daemon, the Daemon Lord to be exact, and a challenger. This peaked Roy’s curiosity, so he dropped what he was doing and went to the location Trovius had told him it would take place.
Though he was not super involved in politics, Roy at least knew of the name of who the current Daemon Lord was. It was the same name as the man that had saved him when Roy was a lot younger and still in the Dream Land, Gabriel. It never occurred to him that it could be the same guy though, since the name was pretty common and literally anyone named Gabriel could be the Daemon Lord. There were a few reasons that he decided to go see the fight. The first being his passion and love for a good round of combat, whether chaotic, graceful, or just plain silly. The second reason was his pride for his own people. Even if Roy based his loyalty around the individual, he was quite biased to the daemon race and felt it was a form of obligation to see a political fight go down, considering how rare they were as daemons had a loose form of politics compared to other species.
There was not enough time for Roy to run to the location, so he had called on Comet, his wyvern friend, hopped on her back. She did not fly though, and instead sprinted at an incredible rate using her powerful legs to propel her and cover a lot of ground. As per usual, his dark brown, long tunic was stained with blood from his fights. Across his shoulder was a nasty, jagged wound from the claws of a tiger from one of his matches. The areas around the wound looked like cracked, red clay. The cheap clothing material itself was also torn at that point. It oozed and consistently let small drizzles of blood slide down his bare chest. He’d have to get it stitched up. But later. The fight was more interesting.
Roy could tell where the fight was when he saw a small crowd of people circling around what, could only be, the fight that his gladiator friend had mentioned. Not wanting to raw attention to himself, he commanded Comet to stop and hoped off the green wyvern. A few patrons that were trying to get away from the fight eyed her warily, but otherwise seemed uninterested as she plopped onto the ground and rested.
He made his way through some people and made it just in time to see the ground beneath a man’s feet split open. Whom he assumed to be the Daemon Lord had his back faced to Roy, so he could not make out the face. His challenger though…she was a tiny thing. Looks could be very deceiving though, especially with daemons.
A man next to him scoffed at the sight and openly stated, “Fucking animals. Need to take their circus somewhere else.” Roy snapped his head and glared at the man with his bright, gold eyes, and snarled. Startled, the man swore under his breath and quickly walked away. Asshole. Couldn’t appreciate a good fight when he saw one.
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 8, 2017 23:57:18 GMT
For Gabriel, fighting was an art. There were so many ways to go about it and he was influenced heavily by the setting, his opponent, the context, and his mood. It could be a lengthy, drawn out dance, or a brief and brutal clash. It could be dominated by magic, or a gory spectacle of claws and fangs and weapons. It could be bloody and dramatic, or subtle and almost elegant. Today, Gabriel was all business. Challenges for the Daemon Lord title had come thick and fast when he first took it over, Daemons taking the opportunity to test a freshly-blooded Lord before he really settled into the role. They had tapered off over the years though, and Gabriel thought his last challenge had been some time ago. Before Calandra had disappeared, even, he thought he remembered her watching with that enigmatic smile of hers as he'd beheaded a young, overconfident Golem.
Today was not a fight to show off, to draw out, to test new strategies. The Earth Elemental knew what she was doing - he suspected she'd been training for some time to take him on. The familiar bloodlust had lengthened his claws and fangs but he remained measured, in control, relying on his brain rather than instinct. The smart thing to do was to assess his opponent and end this fight as quickly as possible. It would not only give her the least opportunity to think over her strategy, no doubt carefully planned and tested for years or months prior to this, but it was also important to send a message to the rest of his kind. His reputation as merciless, efficient and brutal helped protect his power, and power Gabriel cared about more than just about anything else.
She tried to obscure his vision with dust clouds, to destabilise the ground with frequent small earthquakes centred directly below the courtyard, to throw him off balance. She attacked with plants, the ivy coming to life at her will to snake around his wrists, only to be instantly charred when searing fire raced over his skin. She relied on magic - her only real choice, given that Gabriel was much taller and heavier than her and would overpower her in direct melee combat. But to her frustration he countered with Daemon agility and fire. Her main attacking magic was plant-based, and it was no match for his developing strength with his own elemental magic. Her defensive magic was more rock-based, though, and this did ward off the fire effectively.
They traded blows from a distance for a little while, Gabriel sending fireballs in her direction and she retaliating with earthquakes and rockfall. Injuries were minor and, for Gabriel, unnoticed. He soon grew tired of the cat and mouse though, and when he closed the distance between them, she curled into a protective shield of thick rock that encircled her completely. Gabriel snarled, angry. Coward. What did she hope to achieve from inside there? She might be safe from the fire, but she couldn't attack him either. He had no patience for this kind of stalling.
Those who may have researched Gabriel thoroughly would know the two magical dangers Gabriel presented. The first was his deadly ability to mesmerise, enchant, distract and deceive. This was a slower form of fighting and he rarely used much of it in challenge fights, preferring to end them quickly and decisively. The second was his fire - bold, powerful, dangerous, but easy to sap. Elemental magic wore through magical energy quickly, especially some of Gabriel's more dramatic abilities. Perhaps her goal was for him to burn out trying to get through her shield. Unfortunately for her, Gabriel had a powerful magic known as the Words of Power. Available to him through the bardic arts, these remnants of Gods gave him at this stage a single water-based ability. It wasn't something one would expect a half Fire Elemental to wield, and herein lay her undoing.
"Vatn." Gabriel did not sound like himself when he said this. His voice was that of a God, a borrowed moment that accessed the old magic one had left behind. From the ground in front of his feet a great wave of water built then released, towering above their heads, reaching nearly the height of the buildings. It crashed over the Elemental's shield, eroding and weakening it. The wave continued throughout the courtyard, quickly losing power but drenching all those who stood close enough.
After that, it was sheer physical strength that broke down her barrier, tearing away the damaged shield faster than she could build it back up. He needed only a small gap, the size of his arm, to reach in and break her neck in one fast, efficient movement. The rock crumbled away the moment she died and Gabriel stood, nudging the body that slumped in front of him to ensure she was dead. Her eyes, once vibrant and purple, were now glassy. It was done.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 9, 2017 4:07:01 GMT
The fight had grown pretty dull and repetitive after a while. Or, well, most would have been bored by it. Roy was entranced and did much more than just spectate. He studied the way the earth elemental moved, stoic much like the earth. Since he was more focused on their body movements and not what they looked like, he over looked the familiar face that was the man who used fire. The Daemon Lord radiated power with every ranged strike he made against the challenger. At one point, Roy had to step out of the way of one of the fireballs the man threw.
It brought him to reality and for just a second, he stopped focusing on their movements and magic. He managed to tear his eyes away from the distracting flames and actually looked at the daemon lord. He was positive his jaw fell off and fell to the floor, because he was almost positive that the man was the same one he met in the Dream Land, sparred with once, and hopelessly lost against. To help with the suspicion, Roy knew that the name of the Daemon Lord was Gabriel, the same name of the man in the Dream Land. Before, Roy had assumed it was just a coincidence that the title was the same name of the person he met, but now it didn’t seem so.
He made a note to approach Gabriel after the fight, but for the moment he continued to watch with the up most interest even if the woman was just stalling. Roy as curious; Did she had any sort of plan, or was she just going with the flow? As a daemon, he suspected the former.
When she cocooned herself from Gabriel’s attacks, Roy knew she was finished. It was a last attempt at preventing her death, but there was no real tactical advantage to it unless she had something up her sleeve. She did not, but the daemon lord did it seemed.
The word he spoke held magical power, something Roy would never be able to explain to someone. The hairs on his arm and neck raised and he watched as great mass of water formed seemingly from nowhere. Roy’s eyes followed the water up and watched as it barreled against the rock formation the girl had. Now she was purely on the defensive, and Roy knew she was done for.
Even when he was drenched from the water, Roy did not flinch and watched as the daemon lord closed the distance between him and the girl and killed her. He couldn’t see what exactly he did, but whatever he did finished the job. As the formation of earth fell apart and the other observers quickly dispersed, Roy took the chance to chase after the daemon lord.
He came from the side so Gabriel could easily see Roy. The last thing he wanted to do was sneak up on the daemon lord just after he did a fight to the death. A genuine look of surprise across his face, Roy jogged up to him and could only exclaim, “Holy shit, it is you.”
Not even considering whether or not Gabriel remembered him, Roy grinned and stuck his hand out for Gabriel to shake. “Not sure if you remember me or not, but I sure as hell remember you. Name’s Roy.”
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 12, 2017 6:22:02 GMT
There was enough of a crowd assembled to watch the fight for Gabriel to be satisfied when he threw the Elemental’s body carelessly aside. Not because he sought glory - though, insofar as it contributed to his power, it was a nice side effect. Far more important though was to have enough of an audience that word of the fight would spread throughout the Daemon population. Gabriel did not fear challenge fights - he often enjoyed them when they did happen - but a powerful Lord did not get challenged frequently. Maintaining his title was as much about reputation as actual ability, and the more word of each successful defence spread, the more solid his reputation would become. Gabriel was highly nomadic, rarely staying in one place for long periods of time, but even so he was a highly visible and well-known presence amongst Daemons as their Lord. Some Daemon Lords were less ostentatious, but Gabriel wanted to be remembered. He wanted people to only need to hear his name to be able to picture him, to know of his power, to think twice about crossing him. It was egotistical, yes, but Gabriel was not the longest surviving Daemon Lord in Litharian history for no reason.
He cracked his neck as he walked away from the scene of the fight, stepping lightly over the ruined courtyard full of uprooted bricks and great wounds splitting the ground. The Elemental had landed a few blows, most of them crushing rather than cutting, and his silver skin was lightly peppered with developing bruises. There was an easy spring to his step though; he seemed full of energy, hardly even winded from the fight, and he wasn’t moving as though he noticed the injuries. Which, with his very limited ability to feel pain, he didn’t. There was some gravitas to him as he watched the crowd begin to disperse, noted a few Daemons amongst them. He still wanted to be seen as serious about the challenges; it would never do to stop respecting this essential part of Daemon tradition, one that had kept their kind strong despite small numbers in Litharia. It was hard not to buzz after a successful kill, though…the adrenaline was still flowing, and he felt great.
Gabriel didn’t immediately recognise the first person to approach him after the fight. This in itself was unusual - after seeing the display of magic and strength, most were careful not to get in his path. Everyone in Litharia knew Daemons were unpredictable and violent - just getting in one’s way when their blood was up could be enough of an excuse for a fight, sometimes. Gabriel only trailed to a stop, though, eyeing the other Daemon with interest. Flitting back through memories, it took him several moments to go far enough back - centuries, well into his Dream Land years - before there was a flicker of recognition. He did recognise this man, though, he was sure of it.
“I have some memory of you.” He frowned, but the details weren’t coming back.
“You’re a Dream Land Daemon, I know that much. Remind me of how we met?” He shook the other Daemon’s hand but didn’t bother giving his name in return - the man clearly knew who he was already.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2017 7:46:50 GMT
It honestly wasn’t that surprising that the daemon lord didn’t remember Roy. He was a form of political power and had no doubt met many faces he needed to keep track of. It’d also been centuries since they met, and he doubted he made any real mark on the guy’s life. Hell, the only reason Roy remembered was because he was a slave at the time and was on the brink of death. Even so, he took Gabriel’s acceptance of his hand as a sign of good faith. There seemed to be a little recognition too, which was nice.
Roy let go of his hand and sniffled. “Uh well, short version or long version?” He paused and then grinned. “Right, short version. Okay so I was a slave to some crazy-ass guy in the Dream Land as part of some weird trial and training my folks wanted me and my siblings to do. It sucked, blah blah blah, and, just when I was going to kill him when we were near Ngar’li, it turned out he was way stronger than I thought.” Again he paused, but this time with a frown. “Wait, I’m giving you the long version. Anyways, I almost died and you and some other guy at the time…I think you introduced him as your father? Well, the guy that enslaved me tried to kill you and you, well, killed him instead. And then I was dumb and asked you to spar with me and you kind of kicked my ass.” The story would sound crazy if Gabriel had no recognition of it, but Roy certainly hoped he did.
Still, he was grinning like an idiot at the daemon lord…in the middle of a fucked up square. Damons were so chaotic in their fights and it always showed. Even the air was dusty from all the dirty and dust the elemental had thrown at Gabriel, but Roy was all for it. “It sounds crazy, I know. And while I’d normally agree I’m probably a bit crazy, I’m actually being completely honest.”
There was the sound of bricks and earth crunching under big feet and Roy turned just in time to see Comet trotting toward him. The wyvern wasn’t too much taller than the two daemons, but she was still big. She was not an affectionate creature, but she was still protective of Roy from their long time spent together. Her green scales were almost iridescent in the night and she looked quite beautiful, almost even chaotic and daemon-like in her own way.
“Oh that’s Comet. Been a pal of mine for a few centuries. Don’t mind her, she’s just nosy.” Again he smiled lightly. There were times when Roy acted more like he had a stick up his ass about everything, but he liked to be as light hearted as he could. Even for a daemon, life was too short to be so serious all the damn time.
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 14, 2017 9:16:52 GMT
Gabriel waited patiently through Roy's story, head tilted slightly to one side. His expression was unreadable but there was no tension in his body language. Gabriel had no reason to hurry away, no particular place he needed to be, and as a general rule he liked meeting Daemons he didn't know already. Connections amongst the people he called himself Lord of were valuable at best, but interesting and worthwhile even if they served no greater purpose. And Daemons with whom he had some history piqued his curiosity at once - he studied Ray's features, trying to place him, but before he could Gabriel was intensely surprised when the other man mentioned his father.
Very, very few Daemons alive today whom Gabriel was likely to run across had ever met his father. The connection had been a fleeting one, but in a rush Gabriel remembered the encounter with Roy. It had to have been, what, three, four hundred years ago? He couldn't remember much detail about it - couldn't bring to mind the face of the slaver Roy described, nor even whether it had been Damian or himself to do the killing. Gabriel had killed so often, back then, that recalling specific fights was difficult and from Roy's description either of them could have been pissed off enough at the slaver to deal out death. Damian had been, if anything, more volatile and temperamental than Gabriel. He remembered sparring with the younger Daemon though, that he was sure of. It had been a brief fight and Damian had lost interest before it even started.
"I remember," Gabriel said at last. Reaching up, he rubbed a thin stripe of blood off his cheek from where some shard of brick or glass or stone had caused a long but shallow laceration just above the bridge of his cheekbone. A brief glance at the wyvern was his only reaction to her appearance - Gabriel was more or less indifferent to animals - but he smiled, suddenly, at Roy, the quiet assessing calculating nature of his expression replaced with something more relaxed and open.
"Why did you ask me to spar with you? I recall either myself or my father...I forget which, but one of us...killed your master easily enough. The arrogance of youth?" Gabriel had been young then, too, but perhaps Roy hadn't realised how dangerous Damian was. It was sheer luck the older Daemon had gotten bored of Roy rather than deciding to use him as a plaything, or another morbid teaching moment for his son.
"Listen, I'm glad you introduced yourself. I like meeting other Daemons, and there are few enough from my time in the Dream Land that I'd expect to see over here these days, so you're more interesting than most. I'd like to get cleaned up, though, and now that I've had to deal with that-" Gabriel gestured at the crumpled body of the Earth Elemental still lying still and broken in the courtyard - "I'll probably stay in Spirit another day. If you want to keep talking, perhaps a drink and somewhere to sit would be an idea?"
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Post by Deleted on Jul 14, 2017 19:47:14 GMT
Roy wondered if it was all for not, really, and if Gabriel was going to just think he was crazy. It was hundreds of years ago that they’d met, and the golem was positive this was the man he met. Everything about him was similar, not just physically, but just his presence felt…familiar. The other man that he’d been with, Roy could not recall beyond the fact he had been traveling with Gabe. Still, he debated about just apologizing and saying he made a mistake, all the while looking like he was mad.
But at the last moment, the daemon lord stated that he remembered! Roy grinned, glad that he hopefully sounded a lot less crazy than he had seemed at first. He shrugged his shoulders playfully at Gabriel wanting to clean himself up and get away from the mess. “I mean,” he started, tone laced with sarcasm, “I like to have picnics and conversations over a pile of rubble and dead bodies…” he looked at the body that Gabriel gestured at. “…er, well body I suppose. But! To each their own. A drink it is. I’ll buy.”
He gestured off in the direction he arrived from. “There’s a gladiator arena straight that way. Can’t miss it. Black walls, lingering sensation of death, lots of screams. That sort of thing. Just off the side of are two nice pubs connected by a bridge. Can’t really miss that either. If you’re still interested in chatting when you’ve cleaned up, I’ll be in the smaller one….” He turned away then paused, looking back over his shoulder. “I’ll try to not get drunk before you get there. And to answer your question, yeah, I was a little shit in my youth. But I can tell you more about it later.” With that he hopped onto Comet’s back, who happily chirped and yipped, and rode off in the direction the golem had pointed towards.
-x-
The black rock pub was, as Roy had said, just off the side of the gladiatorial arena. The arena itself was called such due to the black stone that made its walls. The pub was very different from that, but named so just to coincide with its gladiator partner. It was actually composed of two separate buildings, both connected by a sky bridge on the second story. The first story of each building was primarily made of stone masonry, while the second stories were composed of wooden carpentry. Towards the top, the roofs formed a triangle. One building, the one on the right, was bigger. It had double doors acting as its entry way, and few windows that were shrouded by drapes. On the outside were two guards acting as bouncers. Only the ranked gladiators were allowed to enter in there, and Roy was not one of them.
Instead he was headed into the building on the left, the smaller, and louder one. There were numerous people outside, all of whom were familiar faces to Roy. As he passed them to enter the building open to the public, he waved.
The inside was bigger than it looked on the outside, and it was less crowded than one would assume too. The bottom floor had the kitchen off to the back behind a wall and bar. The wall was heavily decorated with many different types of drinks, and there were roughly ten kegs piled up as well against it. Off to the right was a massive fire place were Roy spent some of his time entertaining by singing, if he was in the mood. There was always someone there when he wasn’t though. Tonight it was a young petite woman, singing shanties of the sea from whence she came, and there were gladiatorial combatants singing along with her. Part of the floor was also for dancing, but the rest consisted mostly of tables and chairs. The second floor was only a bar and restricted to only gladiatorial combatants, but where was the fun in that?
Comet had flown off when Roy dismounted her, no doubt going to the wood to find food. She brought a lot of attention whenever he was riding her around, and though Roy didn’t really mind, he had no desire to see someone dumb enough to think they could steal her or kill her, so he liked to send her off to hide outside of the city.
He approached the bar itself, waving at the few patrons that recognized him and the rest that happily raised a glass. Roy frequented the bar a lot, almost every day in fact, so he was very familiar with the regulars and staff there. He pulled out one of the rickety, wooden stools and sat onto it, ignoring the loud ‘squeaks’ that come from it.
The bartender was in the back yelling at his family about something, so Roy was temporarily stuck without a drink, which was fun. He’d promise Gabriel he wouldn’t work on getting drunk before he arrived after all, but part of Roy wondered if he’d even show up.
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 16, 2017 1:22:08 GMT
Gabriel nodded. He knew the gladiator arena - he'd once hauled Hadjara out of the place, all righteous fury and murderous revenge, and he also knew that she now fought there on a fairly regular basis in the interest of defending her title. It was funny how quickly things could change. But the point was the locations Roy gave him were familiar so after returning to the dingy room he'd rented, adding another day on to his original stay, and rinsing away the dust, dirt and blood of the fight, Gabriel went looking for the pub. He'd seen it from the outside but never gone inside before; it was frequented mainly by the gladiators and those involved with them, however peripherally, and Gabriel had never undertaken a sanctioned fight. He didn't think bursting in on Hadjara nearly getting killed and tearing the place apart in murderous fury counted, and it occurred to him as he walked inside that someone might remember that little incident. He was fairly memorable in appearance, and he done a fair bit of damage.
Oh well. Cross that bridge if he came to it.
He found Roy at the bar and his memory of the other Daemon solidified a little more. He was a Golem too, his magic tempered towards battle, and Gabriel wondered if he'd kept developing it. Not everyone was as deeply connected with and dependent upon magic as the Daemon Lord was - plenty preferred sheer physical strength, brute force, to arcane arts. It was fitting, he supposed, that Roy was a gladiator, given his bloodline.
"Do they serve whiskey at this place?" The stool squeaked loudly as Gabriel took a seat next to the other Golem, glancing over at him with an assessing expression. Gabriel could count on one hand the connections he had left from the Dream Land; stumbling upon Roy was more intriguing than he would have guessed. So few Daemons alive and in Litharia would share so much history and background and upbringing with him. It was a rare connection, and not one Gabriel would have missed trying to follow up on.
"Did you not think I would come?" Gabriel could read the other Daemon's expression, the lack of expectation.
"I don't know many Daemons from my time in the Dream Land, these days. It was a very long time ago now and we live such violent lives. Many never crossed the portal at all. What brought you over to Litharia?"
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Post by Deleted on Jul 16, 2017 8:43:35 GMT
Truth be told, Roy was surprised to see Gabriel. Though daemons were naturally good at controlling their emotions, every now and then things could slide by, like his brief surprise when the daemon lord sat next to him and asked the question up front. He scratched the back of his head, perplexed by his own brief lack of self-control, but then shrugged. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure you totally believed me. It’s been hundreds of years, after all. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of faces since we met. Just a few.” His light heartedness returning, he raised his hand up for the bartender as he emerged from the backroom. “You bet your arse there’s whiskey here. Best stuff is in the building next over, but I don’t fight in ranked matches. Especially not after I met your Strongest Daemon.” He smiled. A few weeks prior, Roy had met the daemon woman, Hadjara, who was the champion in the ranked matches and held the title of strongest daemon. Since Gabriel was the daemon lord, Roy knew that it meant he knew her. “I watched her fight a match. Wouldn’t last a minute against her, but she’s damn good.” That was all he’d say about her for now. He really didn’t know that much about her, but he had admired her fighting ability when he saw it. Roy did not invite Gabriel over for a drink to talk about someone else though.
The bartender was a big, beefy man who used to fight in his own matches. He was a reptilian shifter of some sort, as indicated by the slit eyes and naturally split tongue he had from his true form. He was really tall too, even taller than Roy, and much wider. He grinned at the battle golem. “Roy! Why the hell ain’t ya singing tonight, eh?” He looked over at Gabriel and nodded. Despite his demeanor, the man was quite welcoming to his guests and customers. “What’ll it be, boys? The usual for you, Roy?
Roy nodded while adding, “Hell yeah. And whatever he wants.” He meant it when he said he’d pay for their drinks. After all, Roy was the one that invited them. The bartender nodded and started grabbing drinks from the wall.
While their drinks were on their way, he turned his attention to Gabe’s question about crossing the portal. There were many days that Roy missed the Dream Land and just…everything about it, but there was also a part of him that didn’t miss it. Litharia was not as beautiful, but there was more variety with just species along, much less everything else. “Interesting story, that one,” he began just as their drinks arrived. "Actually...not really. It's not that interesting. But since you asked...
Roy had ordered a very strong, home-brewed mead laced with honey and a tinge or raspberry juice. He nodded his head in thanks at the bartender before continuing. “So my family’s really big on the ‘we only want strong children’ sorta thing. I had three older sisters and I was a twig compared to them. So naturally, my father thought I was the weakest and well, it’s safe to say I was just born obsessively pissed off at my family.” He smiled and took a big swig of his drink, thoroughly enjoying the strong taste of alcohol, honey, and just a trace of raspberry.
“I felt I had a point to prove, so I stuck with them trying to get better than my sisters. That’s actually why I was a slave. My family saw escaping slavery as a form of initiation to some partial, bullshit acceptance into the family.” Though the story was of Roy explaining his frustration with his family, his tone showed no hint of it. He’d killed his sisters a long while ago and did exactly what he wanted to do, so he felt very indifferent to his remaining family at that point. “Anyways, since I wanted to prove a point to my family, I stuck with them when they decided to leave the dream land for…whatever reason. But yeah, that’s basically what happened. Split off when I won my father's favor. “ He purposely left out the information about killing his sisters, unsure about how Gabriel would react to something like that. They hadn’t been children when he killed them, so it wasn’t against the few daemon codes they had, but the fact of the matter was that Roy had no idea what kind of person the daemon lord really was.
The battle golem was curious too and did not only wish to talk about himself. “Okay so I have to know. What exactly made you want to become the daemon lord? I’m guessing that meant you challenged the previous one, right? When’d that happen?” Sure, Roy heard about Gabriel a good while ago and a new daemon lord rising, but there was no telling when it actually happened. For all he knew, he heard about it years after Gabe actually got the position. Though he was asking about the position, he had no intention of delving into the politics. Political chatter at a bar could get so boring.
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 18, 2017 9:02:31 GMT
"Plenty," Gabriel agreed. He'd met countless people in the centuries between his last meeting with Roy and this one.
"Not so many Daemons from the Dream Land, though, and amongst that smaller group, not all that many Golems. Not many at all I've fought with, even light-heartedly." Even in three hundred odd years that narrowed things down. Daemons were not numerous in Litharia, even after all of this time. Many in the Dream Land would never cross the portal - the price of your immortality was a high one. So yes, Roy intrigued him. How infinitesimal were the chances of meeting someone with even a fleeting connection in your past, really?
Somehow, Gabriel ended up with a glass of whiskey in hand without another word on the matter. Sometimes subtle, sometimes flashy, the modus operandi of his magic was, in the end, about getting what he wanted, and what he wanted right now was a drink. He thought he'd earned it after his first challenge in years, and as always that first searing, smoky taste was met with an expression of unselfconscious bliss. There were some things in this world Gabriel really appreciated, and whiskey was one of them.
"You met Hadjara? Wise choice, not to fight her. Very wise." She wasn't the Strongest Daemon for nothing. Gabriel had been vaguely aware that Hadjara had taken to defending her title back at the gladiator rings, and here was yet another interesting connection with Roy. A meeting well worth pursuing, it seemed.
Like most Daemons Gabriel loved stories. As a Bardic Golem, he probably loved them more than most. There was no impatience in his expression or demeanour as he listened to Roy share his, especially since it contained so many elements of personal interest to him. The Dream Land, a place he had taken to considering home again, since his magic had allowed him to return. The portal, once his salvation from a crushing sense of despair at the memories he couldn't escape in the Dream Land. Litharia, a place he loved deeply for the refuge and adventure and power it had offered. And, unbeknownst to Roy and not something Gabriel would ever share with someone he'd only just met for all intents and purposes, they shared a fraught and complicated family life too.
Roy's question, though, was a reasonable one and something Gabriel was happy to be more open about. There was nothing secretive about being the Daemon Lord; by definition it was all about the show.
"Power." This was the short answer, and an accurate enough summation of the basic reason Gabriel had become the Daemon Lord.
"I wanted to be powerful. More powerful than anyone else, because I love the Daemons and I think I should be the one to defend our strength here, in this place I also love." There was ego in his words, of course, but his tone was not bragging or self-congratulatory. This, to Gabriel, was the simple, straight-forward truth. He didn't want others making decisions about things he loved, so he made sure he was strong enough to call the shots. By nature he was obsessively oriented to gathering power, too, so the fit was natural, but his motives were not purely self-serving.
"Challenged and killed, the age old ritual. Over a century ago now, and not looking to step down any time soon in case you had any thoughts of trying your hand." His grin at Roy turned distinctly wolfish; there was humour in the words and he had no expectation that this was the case, though of course the sentiment was deadly serious.
"Do you miss it? The Dream Land?"
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Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2017 10:52:12 GMT
Roy nodded in agreement regarding the lack of daemons in Litharia from the Dream Land. “Yeah, can’t say I’ve met many others from there. Met plenty of humans turned daemon, but less born as one here.” Daemons aged slowly and thanks to their aggressive nature, so they didn’t tend to survive for their whole life time in Litharia. Personally, Roy wasn’t sure if he really cared that much for immortality. When he left, he didn’t consider that factor much. It was unlikely that he would live to the expected max lifespan anyways, especially since he was obsessed with gladiatorial matches.
He laughed about being wise to not fight Hadjara. “I love the dance of combat, not suicide,” he jested. Roy was over confident with his fighting ability, but it was not so far to act as a weakness. Partaking in ranked matches was just that, suicide. Hadjara was not the only ranked combatant that was a threat to him. Black Rock was not an overly popular arena, as arenas were all over Spirit, but it gathered enough attention to keep Roy on his toes.
Personally, the golem was very open about his life. He had no secrets, no real regrets anywhere. The only thing he kept hushed was the stuff about his sisters. Just because he was open did not mean Roy expected the same from Gabriel, so he was content not to pry or expect a life story from him. They were essentially strangers having only met momentarily.
Gabe’s answer to his question was expected, but also respected. Like most daemons, Roy respected those that proved their strength through raw power. “Fair enough.” His drink was finished quickly and Roy waved down the bartender for another. “It’s not just politics all the time like humans, right? You get some fights to the death here and there.” He made no real assumptions about what being the daemon lord entailed, but Roy did have the basic understand that one could gain the position by challenging the current daemon lord and killing them.
Again, Roy laughed, this time louder as it was drowned out by the other voices in the room. His new drink was already in hand and he took no time to start working on it as well. “Like I said, I’m not fond of suicide. I’m good at combat, but not ‘I want to represent the daemons’ good.” Similarly, his tone was full of jokes and sarcasm. Roy liked to talk to people, even more so with people like Gabe who came from the same place as the golem.
A young woman sat on the other side of Roy and smiled at him. She was also a regular there, but he wasn’t much interested in speaking with someone else so he just glanced at her briefly and smiled. Just after Gabe asked about the Dream Land, she interjected and, pointing at the tiger scratch marks on Roy’s shoulder, asked, “Shouldn’t you fix that?”
Rolling his eyes, he turned away, ignoring her question. He looked down at the scabbing, not serious wound that was still had a steady, thin stream of blood moving down it. Later he’d deal with it to clean it up so there would be no infection, but the benefit of feeling no pain was that there was no concern for it now. He was in no danger of bleeding out or anything.
He rubbed the area around the wound with his hand. “Of course I miss it,” he answered in a slightly more serious, but still friendly and almost sad tone. “The immortality didn’t appeal to me, but the landscapes and cities were quite unlike anything here.” It was his home, and Roy wish he’d done more consideration before just following his family blindly. “I miss using our native tongue more often than the common tongue.” He enjoyed the way it rolled off his tongue as he spoke it.
Roy stretched out one of his arms and broke his eye contact from Gabe. It was nice, relaxing even and familiar to talk about the dream land with another daemon. It’d been a long time since Roy did so, and he was glad he recognized Gabriel when he did. “But,” he continued. “I do have an immense appreciation for Litharia too. There’s more variety of people here, more cultures. Both have their perks…but yeah, I do miss it a lot sometimes.” There wasn’t much point in dwelling on it too much. He would never be able to return, but he was curious on Gabe’s feelings about the daemon homeland.
“So what about you, eh? You regret leaving ever or miss our home?”
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 21, 2017 22:50:40 GMT
Gabriel cataloged the bar in his mind as they talked and drank - another place to become familiar with, another small corner of Litharia to learn. He was genuine in his love for this world and also in his curiosity for its many facets. The pub was crowded, though not unpleasantly cramped, and the man behind the bar pleasantly jovial without being overly nosy or interfering. The whiskey was decent, and the other patrons an eclectic mix - rough around the edges, hard living but fun-loving, as you might expect for a crowd who earned their living through fighting. He could see why Roy liked spending time here.
"Is all your combat experience in gladiator fights?" Tonight was not about business, but Gabriel was never truly off duty. This question, while it would serve its purpose of learning more about Roy in a friendly and casual manner, was also about figuring out whether the other Daemon could be of more deliberate use to him in the future. It had been some time since Gabriel had called on the Daemons loyal either to him, their race as a whole, or just willing to fight for any cause, to come together as an army and engage in formal battle. The war between the Fae and the Humans had hit an uneasy stalemate in the last few years, with Quirinoh stepping down and his son taking over the crown, and it wasn't yet clear what would happen in the future. Being prepared was always the key, though; Gabriel worked hard to make connections with other Daemons, inspire loyalty, form personal relationships, not only because he was sociable by nature and enjoyed it but because when he called, he wanted others to come ready for war. This question was a first, subtle probe into whether Roy might become one of those people in the future.
"Here and there. Fewer now, than in the beginning, but fighting is still a big part of the job." The challenges might have dropped off over the years but Gabriel still had blood on his claws often enough to keep him happy.
"Our politics are very different from the Human monarchy. More dangerous. Less formal. A lot more fun." He smiled; not everyone would find it fun, the job he did, but it was certainly less stuffy than the rigmarole the Humans went through. And Roy was right that the violence of it was part of the appeal - Gabriel relished being able to demonstrate the iron grip he had on his power whenever the chance arose.
He heard the wistfulness in Roy's tone when he spoke of the Dream Land and knew here they shared another connection. He nodded in agreement, understanding the feeling instinctively.
"No, it's nothing like here." Litharia was colourful wilderness to the Dream Land's dark, dramatic chaos. Here, the forests held the source of the world's magic - there, the Daemons themselves were its source, without any connection to the land. But although Daemons did not have the kind of deep, essential connection to the land that the Fae did with Litharia, he still loved his homeland. Gabriel was perhaps the only living Daemon who could travel back to the Dream Land when he wanted to, but this was not a magical ability he shared with just anyone. He had no desire to become a transportation service for homesick Daemons. So he nodded, and said - because it was the truth - "I miss it every day. But I do not regret leaving."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 30, 2017 20:02:00 GMT
Roy was feeling particular joyful and full of energy. Normally it was the mix of adrenaline and instinctive daemon hormones that made him feel pumped and ready to go, but at the moment it was something different. It was a mix of a friendly environment, good drinks, and re-visiting the past. Just the mention of the Dream Land had a refreshing change in subject when it came to casual conversation. There weren’t many other daemons he’d ever talked to that were from there. Most of the time, they already had roots in Litharia or were humans that were changed.
Immediately after the question was asked, Roy shook his head side-to-side in a ‘no’ gesture. But then he thought about it. “Yes and no. Most of my recent experience has been from the arena, but I was practically born with a knife in my hand.” It was mostly a joke. The fact was though, his father and mother had him clawing and biting before he was even a teenager. “Close to when I went through the portal, I met a shifter woman who seemed to excel at everything she put her hands on. I’m not sure if it was some ability or just pure skill, but I apprenticed to her since I wanted to broaden by spectrum past daemon experiences.” Perhaps the woman had both refined magical abilities and skills with her skill level with nearly everything she touched, but either way, she’d taught Roy a lot.
Even though Gabriel was the equivalent of an acquaintanced stranger, Roy was very open to talking about his life and experienced. That and the man before him was the Daemon Lord. Personally, the golem liked to judge people on an individual level to determine whether they were worth his trust and loyalty at all, but he was extremely loyal to daemons as a whole, and thus there was some loyalty for what Gabriel stood for.
Roy found himself grinning on how leaving the Dream Land was not one of the Daemon Lord’s regrets. Dwelling on something that couldn’t be fixed was wasteful and silly. Missing home was different, normal even, but it was not a feeling that equaled regret and Roy himself would never regret leaving, but he would always miss it. He grabbed his glass and nodded towards Gabriel. “I can drink to that,” he responded and finished his second drink much faster than the first.
Now it was his turn to be curious. Everything about combat was Roy’s life, and he was immensely curious about what he saw during the daemon lord’s challenge earlier. “Magic, then, is what you mostly used to fight with?” Someone off towards the fire place in the bar had stepped up and was singing a fun shanty, a few people laughing, clapping, and singing along, and the golem tapped his hand against the bar gently along with the clapping of the crowd.
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Post by Gabriel on Aug 6, 2017 3:42:36 GMT
Gabriel tried to think back to the last Daemon he'd met who had been born in the Dream Land, instead of either born or changed in Litharia. Most, he figured, were those he'd known prior to crossing the portal. Calandra, Rio. Rah, the previous Daemon Lord, had been Dream Land born. But they were rarer, these days, than changed Daemons. The portal remained open but it had only ever been a trickle of Daemons coming into Litharia...quite apart from the fact that you lost your immortality here, there was no way to cross the portal without travelling close to the other Daemon Lord's castle, and it was rumoured he didn't let just any Daemon leave.
"What's the appeal, these arena fights? Hadjara loves them too, but then she's powerful now. Being weaker can mean being used as essentially bait, your death or injury as low brow entertainment. Right?" He didn't actually understand much about how the gladiator rings worked, and as it happened going back to try and find out wasn't really on the cards. Gabriel had once hauled Hadjara out of there and he had wiped out a few important players in the process. Given he was striking in appearance, he thought there was a good chance he would be remembered there, and not kindly, by the people in charge. So in a way meeting Roy was a window into this strange world which appealed for the innate violence, but which he knew very little of.
"Are your fights to the death? I mean, obviously mine are, but I feel like the pay off is worth it. What do you get if you win in a gladiator match?"
Roy was drinking quickly, much more quickly than him, but then the whiskey was strong and searing in the back of his throat. Gabriel was relaxed, in a good mood after a challenge fight neatly executed, but he suspected Roy was getting drunker much faster. Maybe that would be entertaining in itself, though. He waved a hand to summon another drink, the same again, still drawn to the stark, strong burn of spirits, even if this kind of place probably dealt more commonly in beer.
"I can fight with fangs and claws, like any of us. But yes, magic, lots of that. This is what sets us apart from each other, isn't it? What makes the way that I fight memorable, so the next time a Daemon gets a funny idea about challenging for my title they might think twice." He grinned, glancing Roy up and down for a second in an assessing way.
"You're a Battle Golem, right?"
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