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What happened when Rashkae totally did Primus's wife, and then they were French, and enemies and stuff.

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#1 Primus


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Posted 23 November 2007 - 09:14 AM

In the silence of the grand hall, a single sharp note broke.

Rashkae whirled and looked up, a silhouette highlighted in the searching rays of the full moon,
seeping through the stained glass window at the top of the staircase. He started involountarily
as he recognised the shadowy figure at once - despite the poor light, there could be no doubt as
to who it was.

The arrogant pose.

Those piercing eyes.

The aristocratic blue suit and white ruffles.

The curling moustache, the trimmed goatee.

It was none other than the Margrave Primus, his most sworn enemy. His bitter rival in diplomacy
and trade, the man he had promised to his dying brother that he would one day avenge himself upon.
The man whose life he had been destroying, one piece at a time, for nearly ten years.

Slowly applauding his departure, as a thief, from the house of his host, after consorting with his
wife and setting into motion the plans that would see the entire town burned to the ground.

Slowly applauding.

Immensely confident.

"Well played, Imperator Rashkae."

The sharp voice cracked like a whip across the hall, the compliment an insult so terrible that it
demanded immediate retaliation. Rashkae's cheeks flushed crimson as he drew his rapier is a single
fluid motion, raising it in traditional salute, as he began to speak his challenge.

"Margrave Primus."

The aristocrat merely raised one cultured eyebrow, and began to descend the stairway.

"In the flesh."

The click of those boot-heels was maddenning in the silence, ringing infinitely loud and huge across
the great hall, and under his loose clothing the Imperator began to sweat, realizing that at any
moment the Royal Guard would be here to have him executed. Unless his plan had worked, and they
were all busy fighting his army, his glorious army, for control of the city.

Primus's blade flashed out in a streak of silver, catching Rashkae on the back foot, stumbling as he
barely parried the powerful stroke, which was followed summarily by another, and another. Rashkae
was caught fumbling and obtained two stinging, yet non-lethal strokes across his chest, thin lines of
crimson staining his white dress shirt.

Desperately plunging forward, he attempted to force the Margrave back up the stairs, but Primus calmly
stood his ground, one hand behind his back, flicking away Rashkae's thrusts with ease, darting in to
administer another painful lesson in humility to the young upstart Trader.

Their blades locked in a deadly embrace, and both men strained forward, pressing for advantage, mere
inches away from eachother, Rashkae breathing heavily, the Margrave's cold eyes piercing him just as
his rapier had so recently done.

With a mighty heave, the Imperator broke them apart and sent the Margrave a step backwards, and then
turned to run from the house, out through the main doors and onto the Citadel roof.

The sight that greeted him was truly magnificent.

Embers fly and tangled in the soft drizzle that fell almost constantly over Vardel, the Margrave's
personal domain. Warehouses burned in their place, ships burned in their docks, the streets ran with
blood of the slain Vardelmen and Royal Guards. He beheld his own troopers, laughing, pursuing the
few survivors through the burning wreckage, looting and pillaging at will.

A sharp intake of breath behind him announced the Margrave's arrival.

"This cannot be...!"

Was it simply the heat, the weather, his exhaustion, or was there a tremor in Primus's voice, a
heartbreak, a deep sadness?

Without pausing to question, Rashkae lashed out with his rapier again, but was once again found
lacking and forced back. With a swift move, Primus knocked the blade from the Imperator's nerveless
fingers and lay his own at Rashkae's throat.

He spat venom.

"You cruel bastard..."

Rashkae attempted a grin back at the Margrave, who, trembling with anger, slapped him across the face.
He did not attempt again.

"Is that what you've wanted? For so many innocent to suffer?"

The blade began cutting into the Imperator's throat, and suddenly, he knew with clarity what he must do.

"Your wife... moaned.. like a whore!"

The Margrave's eyes bulged, and Rashkae's world began to move in slow motion. He saw the muscles and tendons
tense in Primus's arm, ready to swivel the blade and decapitate him. But he was quicker. The poisoned dagger
slipped easily from his sleeve, and ducking out of the surely-lethal streak, he plunged it deeply into
the Margrave's chest, 'tween his ribs.

Falling to the stone floor, the blade hissed roughly past his head, and he closed his eyes and waited for
the end.

It did not come.

He looked up.

Primus stood, still, with an amused look on his face, watching the deep crimson stain his own shirt. He dabbed
at it with a silken glove, which also quickly stained. His hands were starting to shake, the onset of the terrible

"Poison, Rashkae?" The Margrave asked, his voice cool as ice in deep winter. "How... droll."

He staggered slightly, his eyes blurring out of focus, losing his grip on the rapier as it clattered over the
edge, down into the courtyard below.

The Imperator looked up at a man he had come to know and loathe so deeply over all the years.

A man who had become like a brother to him.

The man he had finally succeeded in defeating, utterly.

He felt no pleasure, no pride.

Only remorse, pity.

"Things... had to end, this way. Such is life."

The Margrave offered him a grim smile, his favourite quote, the line he had delivered to snivelling merchants
and pleading brokers time after time as he crushed them out of business and livlihood.


And as the world spiralled black, he slipped from conciousness and the rooftop, landing with a dull thud
on the harsh stone below, never to move again.

#2 Gobru


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Posted 28 November 2007 - 08:53 AM

Rashkae twirled his cheeky french moustache around one bloodied finger as he surveyed the rampant devastation around him. The opposing army crushed and driven from the city, the body of his nemesis broken and bleeding below - clearly, there was only one course of action.
Pulling a carrier pigeon, parchment, and quill from his belt pouch, he quickly began to pen the command ordering his forces to surrender.

#3 Minotorious


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Posted 28 November 2007 - 08:57 AM

Dragonburner walks in, looks at gobru, double-takes...


#4 Perem


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Posted 28 November 2007 - 10:15 AM

Perems fleet, now heading towards Rashkae, load their cannons and prepare to fire, only to realise that they are in the wrong thread.


#5 Minotorious


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Posted 28 November 2007 - 10:58 AM

*sees perems fleet floating above the city*


*shoots perems fleet with his ninja robot zombie pirate lasers*

#6 Perem


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Posted 29 November 2007 - 04:35 AM

The lasers hit Perems fleet but luckily the shields take the impact of the damage.

THIS IS WAR yells Perem, Fleet to arms! The crew on Perems boat push a button on the boat and the waters start to rumble. Sharks with lasers on their heads emerge from the water and return fire on the robots. Leaving the sharks to do battle, the fleet return to the correct thead.