Kerosene and a Fistful of Matches
11-24-2017, 07:16 PM
Amon flicked an ear as his sister arrived, knowing the woman must be just as excited as himself. For all that the woman was not necessarily 'pack material' it was in their nature to relish these sorts of activities. They had cut their teeth on pillage and plunder, wetted themselves on war as mere pups. It was an invigorating return to what Amon considered the norm after such a prolonged period of inactivity. Of course, the brute was confident that it had been time well spent. "Feel free. Fallen God knows I'd never dream of stopping you," he said dryly, a hint of humor leaking in. Before she had the chance, Andras arrived arrived as well. He wore the irritated, darting gaze Amon had come to understand was normal for the man. He gave his brother a nod, somewhat surprised to see him there at all. Of course, Amon was not complaining. His patience was rewarded with the relatively timely arrival of the packs leader. Amon took a long moment to drink in the male's appearance. He was a puny thing, by Amon's standards, being an entire head shorter than himself and his siblings. The fur of his head was excessively long and his limbs bore strange patterns. Amon's eyes were cold and, when he spoke, his voice strong. "So kind of you to join us," Amon rumbled in his deep, resonant baritone. Never one for polite chit chat, he dove in, chest swelling as the words began to trickle forth from his lips. "My name is Amon Abraxas, and the fine creatures beside me are Pyralis and Andras, Abraxas as well. You stand in the presence of the Children of the Fallen God. The rest of our kin lurk in the surrounding woods. I can only assume by this point they have your territory well scouted, if not entirely encircled." He let the gravity of his statement sink in, as well as the malice which had come forth so easily. "I have come to you as an emissary of the one true God. This land has been promised to us as the rightful inheritance of our family and our ancestors. Our empire will reach from coast to coast, and leave no land left untouched. We have come to you with an offer to join and live within it, or die and allow us to build upon your ashes." His lips lifted in a half snarl, blue eyes transformed into chip of glacial ice. "Submit, and those you love will be unharmed. They will be free to come and go as they please, granted the protection of our forces, encouraged to wander freely and spread the wealth of the Fallen God. If you choose to resist, you will be destroyed." Amon took three careful steps forward, crossing the border between this male's land and the free lands they had approached from. Amon was careful to maintain a distance between them should the man choose to lunge, all the while confident he could swat him aside like a fly if he would make such a fatal error. Pyralis and Andras would surely fall on him as well, rip the man to pieces. Amon could only hope he was a drop wiser than that. Amon continued on. "The Empire will know no neutral parties. The world belongs to us, which has left you no where to run, I'm afraid. Only the living fight with us, for all the rest shall be reduced to corpses." He took yet another step. "One at a time, of course. Even dead men bear useful information and I find they are eager to talk after watching two or three of their fellows bleed out into the dirt before them." Another step. "Tell me, leader of Dragoste, do you have a mate? Children?" One final step. "Which side would you rather see them standing on?" Amon loomed over the other male, staring down at him with the animosity of a looming thunderhead, dark and promising a fearsome display once unleashed. Beside him Gulo snarled, compact body bristling with the sort of unchecked rage which came so easily in his species. Amon waited for a reply. What happened next was no longer his choice. |
Amon is prone to foul language, insulting comments, and the occasional act of violence.
His children are welcome in any and all of his threads!
His children are welcome in any and all of his threads!
