for Dorian (makingmyway)
Apr. 9th, 2023 12:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bigmoonlittlemoon posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
formmuseboxDark Orym AU
[The world has changed significantly in the months since the Apogee Solstice. The ceremony, the plans of Ludinus Da'leth had not gone exactly as expected. But they had, in the end, been successful enough. Predathos itself had not been fully released, not physically, but the very essence of it had been called down from Ruidus, broken out of its chains and left with only one choice of where to go.
Orym had been in the wrong place at the wrong time -- or perhaps the right -- an attempt at dislodging the obsidian-like orb that had been the Raven Queen's Champion, the Tempest's Lover. The machine had fired anyway, and for the halfling who had been caught straight in that beam, everything was pain and red.
When he woke, he hadn't been himself. Not entirely. He remembered everything, knew who he was, but he was something more now, something that hungered for so much more than Orym had ever desired. His own desires remained, though they'd been turned to near desperate obsessions. He would not lose anyone else that he loved in this absurd struggle; he would not allow it. It was that reflexive need brought on the bright and blinding flash of light that sent Bell's Hells and their allies scattering to the winds, teleported far enough away to be safe in a very broad sense of the word.
As the lights faded and the smoke cleared, as Ludinus and the rest realized what had happened, Orym had felt this new power course through him. And soon everyone came to know it. He'd killed Da'leth and Thull with little more than a glance. A swift death was more than they deserved for what they had been responsible for, what they'd done to Will and Derrig, what they'd tried to do to Laudna. From there, well, Paragon's Call and the Ruby Vanguard answered to him now. Orym, formerly of the Air Ashari, now of the Red Moon. Soon the world would answer to him, and this ridiculous play of gods and monsters would be over.
At his command, his forces have been trying to locate and bring back the rest of his friends. If he can keep them close, he can keep them safe. By now though, he knows that his friends have banded together to fight him. It stings, of course it stings, but he knows that they just don't understand. It doesn't change that he cares for them, and his people have been given strict instructions that while Bell's Hells and the Crown Keepers are to be fended off, they are not be irreparably harmed. They are dear and precious to Orym, and his anger while still quiet and subdued is lethal these days.
He misses his friends. Most nights he holds the sending stone and calls out to Dorian, just wanting to hear his voice, to know that he is safe. But there never seems to be an answer. It doesn't stop him, and most nights the words are simple. 'I hope you're okay, Dorian. I just want to hear your voice again. I miss it. I miss you.'
Today the skirmish that has broken out has been a violent one. Sometime during the fighting, Dorian seems to have been separated off, and the bard has taken a significant amount of damage. Maybe that's what has brought Orym actually out to the battlefield. He so seldom joins the fight these days, but this.
This requires his presence.
Dorian is here. Of everyone that he's wanted to see, the Air Genasi is the one who has had his heart aching the most, the feelings that he'd done so much to try to hide for Dorian's sake, no longer feeling that need to be hidden. Who else could protect him better than Orym? No one. He can give Dorian the world if he wants it, anything.
So when Orym slips in on the edges of the fray, when he sees one of his mages level a spell that sends Dorian sprawling to the ground, the halfling's voice rings out, stern and unyielding.]
Enough.
[He punctuates the words with a gesture towards the Paragon's Call member who had made the attack. A crimson hand appears and wraps itself around their throat, squeezing the life out of the solider slowly.]
You will not hurt him.
[The world has changed significantly in the months since the Apogee Solstice. The ceremony, the plans of Ludinus Da'leth had not gone exactly as expected. But they had, in the end, been successful enough. Predathos itself had not been fully released, not physically, but the very essence of it had been called down from Ruidus, broken out of its chains and left with only one choice of where to go.
Orym had been in the wrong place at the wrong time -- or perhaps the right -- an attempt at dislodging the obsidian-like orb that had been the Raven Queen's Champion, the Tempest's Lover. The machine had fired anyway, and for the halfling who had been caught straight in that beam, everything was pain and red.
When he woke, he hadn't been himself. Not entirely. He remembered everything, knew who he was, but he was something more now, something that hungered for so much more than Orym had ever desired. His own desires remained, though they'd been turned to near desperate obsessions. He would not lose anyone else that he loved in this absurd struggle; he would not allow it. It was that reflexive need brought on the bright and blinding flash of light that sent Bell's Hells and their allies scattering to the winds, teleported far enough away to be safe in a very broad sense of the word.
As the lights faded and the smoke cleared, as Ludinus and the rest realized what had happened, Orym had felt this new power course through him. And soon everyone came to know it. He'd killed Da'leth and Thull with little more than a glance. A swift death was more than they deserved for what they had been responsible for, what they'd done to Will and Derrig, what they'd tried to do to Laudna. From there, well, Paragon's Call and the Ruby Vanguard answered to him now. Orym, formerly of the Air Ashari, now of the Red Moon. Soon the world would answer to him, and this ridiculous play of gods and monsters would be over.
At his command, his forces have been trying to locate and bring back the rest of his friends. If he can keep them close, he can keep them safe. By now though, he knows that his friends have banded together to fight him. It stings, of course it stings, but he knows that they just don't understand. It doesn't change that he cares for them, and his people have been given strict instructions that while Bell's Hells and the Crown Keepers are to be fended off, they are not be irreparably harmed. They are dear and precious to Orym, and his anger while still quiet and subdued is lethal these days.
He misses his friends. Most nights he holds the sending stone and calls out to Dorian, just wanting to hear his voice, to know that he is safe. But there never seems to be an answer. It doesn't stop him, and most nights the words are simple. 'I hope you're okay, Dorian. I just want to hear your voice again. I miss it. I miss you.'
Today the skirmish that has broken out has been a violent one. Sometime during the fighting, Dorian seems to have been separated off, and the bard has taken a significant amount of damage. Maybe that's what has brought Orym actually out to the battlefield. He so seldom joins the fight these days, but this.
This requires his presence.
Dorian is here. Of everyone that he's wanted to see, the Air Genasi is the one who has had his heart aching the most, the feelings that he'd done so much to try to hide for Dorian's sake, no longer feeling that need to be hidden. Who else could protect him better than Orym? No one. He can give Dorian the world if he wants it, anything.
So when Orym slips in on the edges of the fray, when he sees one of his mages level a spell that sends Dorian sprawling to the ground, the halfling's voice rings out, stern and unyielding.]
Enough.
[He punctuates the words with a gesture towards the Paragon's Call member who had made the attack. A crimson hand appears and wraps itself around their throat, squeezing the life out of the solider slowly.]
You will not hurt him.
