The meeting had been arranged by the King, but there had been no conditions agreed upon prior to the meeting. The King had made his assumptions, of course, and believed their meeting was to be a diplomatic one, but what he did not understand was that the Elvish man he was meeting today was really no King at all. He was no Ruler and he was no Lord. He was not of royal blood and he was no god. He was neither above the men and women he lead to war, nor was he beneath them. He was merely the strongest and most passionate of them all, and that warranted the respect of his brethren. That earned him the right to lead the Dusk Elves South to destroy boarders and rape the lands between them and human kind. What did not lay frozen in the wake of Venge was burned, consumed or siphoned for it's life before being left to rot, and in some places his mark was left so profoundly that nothing would ever grow again.<br/><br/>This was what vengeance sowed. The world would be torn asunder by the wake of a demon in Elvish flesh. This was the path of Venge...<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>Hours passed by as the King and his guard waited there, horses growing tired on their feet and beginning to prance a bit in order to keep their powerful legs from falling asleep. Some of the men had even gotten off of their mounts and begun to make camp, a few tents being erected as fires were started and encircled by stones to create a safe and effective pit. They were making themselves at home in lands scarce of the human beings who used to inhabit it. Humans who had, weeks ago, moved on, clearing out of the path of Venge, for whispers of War and Death had preceded the movements of his people. Whispers carried by traders and journeymen racing South to find a safe enough Kingdom to place themselves inside of.<br/><br/>There was nothing but the sounds of chirping birds and water crashing down over the waterfall for the longest time, until a flock of the birds that had been prancing about on the tree limbs above them became spooked. A mass of flapping wings did roar as hundreds of birds took flight and hurried away towards the South as quickly as their wings could take them there. Odd as it was, some of the men were happy to be rid of the constant songs they sang, but only until they heard realized what was happening around them. Some had noticed long before the others who were distracted cooking meats and vegetables in a pot, but as a cold mist began to rise on all sides of the small platoon of men and their King, they all, one by one, began to notice the unsettling sounds of winter approaching them.<br/><br/>Soon the waters stopped tickling as the waterfall turned solid, ice forming and expanding across the once rippling waters that it poured out into. The trees, bushes and plants grew sickly looking, as if not expecting such frigid temperatures so quickly. As if Winter had come far sooner than scheduled, and in fact, it had, for Winter now followed one man who was so ruined by his past life as a slave that his hatred could chill a man to his core. A man who, at that present time, stepped out of the tree line first and revealed his half naked body, unaffected by the cold that was still sweeping over all of the once vibrantly colored forest around them. It was causing things to wilt, wither and break as the cold hung off of the flours and the trees branches, a wonderland of that blank, white, substance had formed, and it was of his and his people's doing. Their magic was unlike any other, and as the land was smothered beneath the white that rolled across the lands like a blanket, they all began to emerge.<br/><br/>One by one they stepped out from the trees, many of them white, pale bluish, grey and even black of skin, most possessing the most mesmerizing gazes of blue and sea green orbs, but only Venge possessed those golden orbs that seemed to burn with fury as if they might catch flame at any moment. Only Venge stood head above the rest, a sneer on his pretty, yet scarred up face as he stared down at the helpless fools who'd come to bargain with him, and as they noticed the man standing ahead from the North, they would begin to realize the hundreds of eyes that were watching them from all sides, all stood silent and entirely encircling the warm skinned Elves and the counterparts from the their kind.<br/><br/>Only one moved. That one was Venge, who let his long, powerful strides carry him towards those who were now so frightened that they'd all grabbed their weapons and encircled the carriage and their King who was looking rather afraid, despite making sure to continue looking proud. As the massive Dusk Elf took his steps, though, his black, elegantly crafted leather boots crunched into frozen leaves and snow as his bare chest seemed unaffected by the cold. From waist there dangled a red sash, and on the other side there was a sword lightly slapping his side each time he took a step, and across his chest there was a string that belonged to the bow running from his upper back down across his bottom and resting against his right thigh.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4d4dff">"Equidem mortem pro rege... pulchram..."</span>, he asked in his native tongue, knowing that none of them would have a clue what he was saying unless the King had been intelligent enough to bring with him a translator.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4d4dff">"</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(77, 77, 255)">Quod infirmum ac fragile Regis...</span><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4d4dff"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(77, 77, 255)">"</span></span>, he said, conviction in his voice as he stopped only a few feet in front of the King, golden eyes glancing back and forth to each of the faces of the men and women tasked with protecting their King during this meeting. Some of them held up pikes, swords and even arrows drawn to the bowstring, but not a single one of them would move to attack the man, for their show was one of courage, but they were losing their nerve quickly. Their resolve was fleeting every second they stood in the presence of Venge and saw what true power was. Something that their very own King couldn't dream to possess. Nothing of the like, in fact, and this was no mystery to the one called Venge.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4d4dff"></span><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4d4dff">"He doesn't show it, but his very soul is quivering within that festering, human heart of his..."</span>, were the next words out of Venge's mouth as he adjusted his language while eyeing the proud King, knowing the look of fear in someone's eyes far too well to mistake it in the King's gaze.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4d4dff">"You there..."</span>, he whispered as he raised his hand and pointed towards a young female Elf who had an arrow drawn to the string of her bow, ready to release it if she dared.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4d4dff">"Will you pierce my flesh with that arrow if I abuse your King? If I... force him to his knees and split his skull...?"</span>, he asked, his deep, yet soothing voice sending shivers down spines that could make someone question whether they were aroused or afraid.<br/><br/>Something about the way that little female looked, however, made him question her loyalty. It made him question her resolve. The eyes, ever the gateway to the soul, and her soul was trembling with fear.<br/><br/><br/>---<br/><br/><span style="font-family:Italianno"><span style="font-size: 26px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#808080"><b>Venge</b></span></span></span><br/><script class="js-extraPhrases" type="application/json">
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</div><br/><br/><b>Origin Story: </b><br/>Venge was born to a race of Dusk Elves who were once upon a time imprisoned by mankind. When he was born it was on the night of a blood moon, which was a bad omen and meant that when he came of age he would bring only death and destruction to the world around him. This won the child a rather interesting name that was born of his father's Vengeful nature against the human race that enslaved he and his kind. That night, a prophecy was foretold and rumors began to spread of the one with golden eyes and white hair. The bringer of Death.<br/><br/>When he came of age, Venge embraced his legend and spurred revolt within his quick, careful, powerful and skilled race, most of which had been used as hunters and warriors by their human captor for decades. After more than fifty years of enslavement, their people fashioned weapons over the span of two years and hashed out battle plans against the humans. Their plan worked, and the revolt just so happened to fall on the night of another blood moon. A night when thousands of human beings were slaughtered in the streets or had their throats cut in their beds, while Venge stood at the helm of the madness with blood and ashes in his wake.<br/><br/>He now rules the Kingdom of the Fringe, far North of the other Human countries, his people now thriving in the cold terrain and growing in number. There he waits as his kind adjust to freedom, allowing his kind to prosper once more before he takes his war to the rest of the human world. The Fringe belongs to him now, and in the depths of the massive fortress, surrounded by walls two hundred feet tall of ice, stone and steel, he fosters his people while growing his strength and his influence.<br/><br/><br/>Name: Venge - The Vehement One<br/>Sex: Male<br/>Preference: Heterosexual<br/>Age: 27<br/>Height: 6'5"<br/>Weight: 207 lbs<br/>Race: Dusk Elf<br/>Eyes: Golden/Amber<br/>Skin: White/Pale<br/>Hair: White<br/><br/>---<br/><br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="91" data-username="@Wren" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/91/">@Wren</a>