Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 19, 2024 11:35:02 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2016 8:39:14 GMT -8
  War is not glorious. War is dirty, bloody, and in the end there is nothing beautiful about it, only broken, charred, and decimated bodies left in the snow to stain in red, red, red. The Killing Field is constantly moving forward with the Frost Queen's conquering armies. Recent battles -- no, recent massacres -- are what is strewn about the field, as those who oppose the Frost Queen come against the Frozen Wall of her armies and shatter. |
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Palatine Parisa
Established
Roleplay posts: 20 
Age: 33
Physical Description: She's a tall, pale, fit woman. Beautiful and hard with an intense stare. Her blonde hair, worked up in locks like the savages of the north, only adds to the uncomfortable menace of her presence. She has the look of someone used to getting her way.
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Clothes and Equipment: She wears armor made from the hides of the forest bison. It is revealing, serving more to emphasize her body than to protect in combat. Rather she relies on her enchanted gauntlets to provide the barriers and deflections she needs.
Her weapons include a two-handed greatsword—useful for cleaving her foes in half in one mighty swing—and a foreign throwing disc called a chakram. Both have been magicked into being more than they first appear.
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Registered: Jun 14, 2016 8:40:16 GMT -8
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Post by Palatine Parisa on Jun 14, 2016 14:30:36 GMT -8
Parisa walks through the battlefield. Less than an hour has passed since the fighting ended and already the falling snow is covering the bodies of the dead. And the wounded.
She hears a moan to her left. A survivor. "Cutter!" she yells into the quiet evening air. Immediately one of the throat-cutters walking behind her rushes ahead to where she indicates. An enemy warrior seems to have hidden under the corpse of his comrade, using the fallen man's waning warmth to stay alive. A quick, smooth slice from the cutter ended the survivor's deception.
"Spread out and look for more. There's bound to be some. You can keep what you find on them but I will tolerate no squabbling over trinkets. Understood? Then go." At her command the throat-cutters—greedy little wretches too lame or weak to fight in the battle proper—spread out looking for trinkets and blood.
The Palatine herself, though, continues to walk among the snow-covered corpses, frozen as they were in their final moments. She smiles and whispers a quiet prayer. "This I do for the glory of my Frost Queen."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 19, 2024 11:35:02 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2016 15:34:14 GMT -8
 The winds kicked up, a biting chill to them now. The snow began to fall a little heavier, as if trying to erase the red smears upon the sludge and snow of the battlefield. And suddenly-- A gust! A whirling blizzard was set upon the killing fields, ripping ragged banners from their broken poles, sending strays of skin and hair ripped form decimated bodies up into the fury of the storm until it suddenly broke, dispersing with a low boom that shook the ground they stood on. Everything seemed frozen where it was. Even the snow that hung in the air stopped right as it should be, and at its epicenter was the embodiment of winter itself -- both cruel and beautiful; cold and breathtaking... the Frost Queen.  Her gown was made of snow and ice and frost, her hair flowing like starlight was trapped in its strands, her eyes a glowing blue. She was beautiful, and like most things that were beautiful, she was deadly as well. " You've been busy," she said to Prisa, and she looked down beside her, her slender hand pulling away her skirts to reveal a body beneath it. Before their very eyes, the body soon became coated in ice, thick and forming to its skin and bones and hair as if it were a statue. Then, it shattered. The Frost Queen looked up at Prisa, ignoring anyone but the woman she had come to see. |
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Palatine Parisa
Established
Roleplay posts: 20
Age: 33
Physical Description: She's a tall, pale, fit woman. Beautiful and hard with an intense stare. Her blonde hair, worked up in locks like the savages of the north, only adds to the uncomfortable menace of her presence. She has the look of someone used to getting her way.
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Clothes and Equipment: She wears armor made from the hides of the forest bison. It is revealing, serving more to emphasize her body than to protect in combat. Rather she relies on her enchanted gauntlets to provide the barriers and deflections she needs.
Her weapons include a two-handed greatsword—useful for cleaving her foes in half in one mighty swing—and a foreign throwing disc called a chakram. Both have been magicked into being more than they first appear.
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Registered: Jun 14, 2016 8:40:16 GMT -8
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Post by Palatine Parisa on Jun 14, 2016 15:57:24 GMT -8
Parisa quickly lowers herself before her queen, her bare shins and knees driven into the snow, her head bowed. She pays no notice to the cold as it doesn't affect her in the least.
"Victorious queen, it is done," she says, her eyes lowered. "As you commanded, we've taken another village from these barbarians. They have been broken and it will take weeks, if not months, for them to regroup. The way north lies open for your armies. We can press forward now or regroup and consolidate, first."
The warrior remains kneeling before her terribly wondrous queen, the suspended snowflakes twinkling around her. She knows the armies need time to rest, that pushing too far too quickly would not be the best strategy. But her duty is to obey her Frost Queen. She would do as the Queen commanded, as always.
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