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Post by Kai Rose on Jan 7, 2021 20:34:32 GMT -8
A single beam of high noon's sunlight poured through the sunroof atop the otherwise spartan Church. Despite the Winter chill, to stand there alone as the focus of the sheer might of Solomon's Summer Mantle was an incredibly intimidating thing. The severe Fairest stared at her through one squinting eye. As the sun moved in the sky ever so slightly as she waited, the tiny shadow forged before her drawn forward and grown by his raw power.
He took a step toward her. His step hissed quietly as though it were burning away the plain wood of the Protestant house just by his passing. She raised her hand and dragged raw light out of the burning circle beating down on her, producing a bow of golden Wrath.
She offered it up to him as he took another step into the circle. Her jaw had a set to it, the unnature pressure weighing down upon her psyche and creating the kind of tension that drove the guilty to confess.
Taking one knee, Kai Rose held up her bow to him across both hands.
"My Lord, the truth is my watchword, and justice my compass. I will pursue the hidden truths of those who would transgress against us into darkness, and chastise those who would seek to rob our people of the bounty of righteousness. So I pledge, and should I fall from this path, I accept that just punishment shall scour my weakness."
So it would be. Her Will pressed out into the void between them to create the tie that would bind them.
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Post by Solomon on Jan 8, 2021 12:58:54 GMT -8
The figure scored by dawn itself was donned in a hooded cloak of sinner's ash, the red vengeance of Summer coating the helm around a gilded cross of Saint George. Solomon removed the gauntlet, skin smoking and greying as he held it aloft in the glow, the form of the bow tugged as the Wyrd was lifted from the weapon itself and spun into the rays of the church.
"Under the Iron crown of the Guardian At the Gate, I extend the Spear to grant this vassal succor in her Watch. On my honour, may my sword and torch burn the path to victory, and my crusaders live in the light," the Wrath was channeled as his hand traced a sigil on Kai's brow, pouring power to her Mantle.
"Rise a vassal of the Knight of Scales, Kai Rose. May your arrow strike at the hearts of this Freehold's enemies."
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Oren
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written by Hiver
Posts: 242
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Post by Oren on Jan 9, 2021 10:14:57 GMT -8
He played a priest only once. Robes of black and electrum. A great scripture bound in iron and thistle that spoke of weals and woes. The cloister thrummed with a multitude of ten thousand harpies, each feather a blade of grass, and each talon the blackest obsidian, their iron jaws poking out of hollows and hovels dug into the wall like the inside of cavernous, chthonic hive.
This place paled in comparison, yet the occasion gave it a weight. Ceremony. Ritual. A wedding.
Oren was second to kneel. Now, he had played the Knight-Errant many a time. The Thin White Duke had favorites. He knew this well.
"Gracious Lord, the shade shall know light under the halo of thy brow. Its rays will pierce the deepest black and purge that which elides under its purview. All will become known unto thee, that which is surmounted by the span of my wing. I shall dwell in the secret place, and the speaking houses of the Most Low and recite their serpent-tongues. I will free the stone from the ground and set fire to the earth, so that all is made level under thy sight. And shall it be that I fail, so shall it be that thy Judgement is exact. This, I do swear."
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Post by Solomon on Jan 13, 2021 22:55:05 GMT -8
The vicious glow of the Fairest's eyes shone behind the helm like a laser sight, the rest of his features lost to a shield of shadow and crimson metal. Without a foisted weapon like Kai, Oren appeared to have adapted the role of a classical knight. Solomon repeated the oath, his hand cleaving the light as the sun's fury as cast onto the Elemental's marble flesh and the same sigil was pressed above his brow; skin cracking slightly as he put his own voice to the pledge.
"Rise a vassal of the Knight of Scales, Oren. May your masquerade root out the whispers of traitors and the fallen, so they may answer to the might of the Iron's justice."
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