Post by Ahramayav on Dec 24, 2006 4:36:26 GMT -5
The Drows knowledge of the subject at hand was without equal; it was exactly what Ahramayav needed. The creatures soul began to look even more appetising in his state of disrepair, his growing hunger looking towards the Drow with eager eyes. Yet, the prospect the Drow offered, to bring thousands more to the sword, and ultimately, to the Chorus, meant the Drow would no longer be considred a target. Like starving before a banquet, Ahramayav would not feed until the feast overcame him, and he was spoilt for choice; the Chorus would grow fat on what would soon be offered to him.
"I shall trust your judgement. Do not worry about me. I shall complete the task at hand. War shall fall this nation. Yes. The smaller nations would be more willing to accept one such as I. Appearance emans little to them; they seek power, strength, to become the equals of the Sobek and Orsinium. Vengence. Death. They would throw themselves to the blade just to gain my Song at their side. And with your position in this Orsinium court." Finally, now, did he let out his real laugh; like a dog barking with its throat slit, the wheezing laughter was a vicious noise, which sounded as painful for Ahramayav, as it was for the ears of anybody who caught it. The unnatural shiver that ran through the air; was that another of Ahramayavs great Chorus? Or did his unnatural laugh just carry a natural shudder of darkness with it? It mattered not.
"When I have found a position within these Empires, I shall contact you again. If you need me, come here; we shall crown this our unofficial home, our Choir-room, if you will. From here we shall guide the sounds of millions, dragging the noise from simple songs to vicious war-cries. And we shall both gain what we truly desire." His words echoed through the air, as if reitterating the point and hand. Both would be fulfilled by these prospects of War, both would gain what they truly did desire. Yet, with the Drows proven nature of back-stabbing, as Ahramayavs Chorus guiding the way; would everything really go as smoothly as planned? Only time would tell. "Call me Ahramayav, equal.." With that single word, equal, Ahramayav put his trust into the Drow. No longer did futile terms of species or class replace name. They were equals in the eyes of Ahramayav; a rare gift, as few did he consider equal to himself..
"I shall trust your judgement. Do not worry about me. I shall complete the task at hand. War shall fall this nation. Yes. The smaller nations would be more willing to accept one such as I. Appearance emans little to them; they seek power, strength, to become the equals of the Sobek and Orsinium. Vengence. Death. They would throw themselves to the blade just to gain my Song at their side. And with your position in this Orsinium court." Finally, now, did he let out his real laugh; like a dog barking with its throat slit, the wheezing laughter was a vicious noise, which sounded as painful for Ahramayav, as it was for the ears of anybody who caught it. The unnatural shiver that ran through the air; was that another of Ahramayavs great Chorus? Or did his unnatural laugh just carry a natural shudder of darkness with it? It mattered not.
"When I have found a position within these Empires, I shall contact you again. If you need me, come here; we shall crown this our unofficial home, our Choir-room, if you will. From here we shall guide the sounds of millions, dragging the noise from simple songs to vicious war-cries. And we shall both gain what we truly desire." His words echoed through the air, as if reitterating the point and hand. Both would be fulfilled by these prospects of War, both would gain what they truly did desire. Yet, with the Drows proven nature of back-stabbing, as Ahramayavs Chorus guiding the way; would everything really go as smoothly as planned? Only time would tell. "Call me Ahramayav, equal.." With that single word, equal, Ahramayav put his trust into the Drow. No longer did futile terms of species or class replace name. They were equals in the eyes of Ahramayav; a rare gift, as few did he consider equal to himself..