Ramas Sepret
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Surrounded by a group of Yuan-Ti, the old Chillmaw watched from his sandstone throne amidst the torchlit darkness. Overseeing the plans of a raid against the home of a Paladin, Chillmaw's son, Nightrule, instructed the other Sect-members of their actions for the given event. Advice and directions were exchanged, dimensions to the event were considered to provide the best possible outcome, but in the end it would be up to the Priesthood of Set to take full advantage the plans Chillmaw's men were to bring forth. Of all that were at the table, none were of Yuan-Ti descent except for Chillmaw who was a Pureblood of the 4th Generation which barely gave him the gift to be noticed by the Yuan-Ti Abominations around him as one of them. The Yuan-Ti's loyalty was based off of a single detail: Set was their lord and ally to their own god, Merrshaulk. Some even considered Set to be Merrshaulk in another form, but what was clear to both them and Chillbrood's men was that they all had common enemies.
At the time, Nightrule was only a dozen human years old. Yet his education under the Cult of Set and training under his father was enough to put him at level with the older warriors and strategists in that underground meeting within the streets of Skuld. The raid would be simple, Nightrule would spearhead the mission and the others would provide the glamour and effects to intimidate the Paladin and his family. What was known to them was the Paladin had a daughter and a wife, easy targets to work as bargaining pieces against the Paladin if this was indeed a successful plan. None of the strategists at that map table had any brighter ideas since their own methods were rather messy despite their stealth. Nightrule's plans were hit-and-run. Gain the upper hand and make the Paladin suffer for his transgressions in their affairs.
The Cult of Set had other intentions for that night.
As clean as the Nightmasks, Nightrule's men slipped into the home of their targetted Paladin, one of the many in that Order which upset Chillbrood's operations over the passed few months. Nightrule felt a little apprehensive of violating another man's space, but at the command of his father the young boy needed to succeed. They were perhaps going to kidnap the wife, but as common couples are the wife slept next to her husband which dissuaded them from continuing that avenue of the operation. Instead they went after the one month old daughter. Knowing babies were really sensitive to the world around them, Nightrule went in alone as his lighter weight kept his movements quiet than even elves.
The child was gone and a cobra was left in its place. Nightrule's eyes darted towards the exit, catching sight of shadowy whisps fading from sight. The Priesthood was here and the boy now knew who had taken the child. Before he could slip back out, a shock to the back of his head caused his sight to flash red before succumbing to weakness and darkness.
Nightrule's sight came back in a strange blur. Carried by the arms like a prisoner, he found himself in his father's throne room. A man in fine black and green clothing started talking to his father, words he could not understand as his own senses were still in limbo. What he could barely see was his father seemingly outraged and the Yuan-Ti Abominations start attacking the man in black and green. Nightrule seemed to black out again.
A sudden jolt woke him up. Senses snapped into place faster than before. Nightrule felt the cold slab of wet sandstone upon his cheek, pushing himself up on instinct in time to see that same man in black and green hovering over him with a devilish grin that defined malicious intent for Nightrule.
"You are lucky, boy," the Priest of Set said, kneeling down to level with the intimidated Nightrule, "I was given a sign in your father's blood that you are to be of great use to Set's plans." Before Nightrule could respond, the Priest left the open chamber where two shrouded followers came in for the boy's "conditioning".
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Three years pass.
Nightrule was relegated to a faithful of Set, but his heart cried out for greater control of the situation that was his birthright as successor to the Eyes of the Serpentlord Sect in Skuld. With word of Chillmaw's death spreading throughout Skuld, Nightrule wondered if the Eyes of the Serpentlord would ever be the same with the factions split because of the Cult's intervention and betrayal. Then it came to his mind that the Eyes of the Serpentlord would be no longer with neither his father or himself at its throne, which spelled the end of a two century legacy of their bloodline's sovereignty.
Their focus now, at least the High-Priest's concern, was the child which was taken at the night which changed his life. The mark of Set was burned there upon the toddler's forehead and it was said upon her, "This will only hurt for for a moment, my dear. Please just try and stay still." The pain the child experienced marked the end of her potential for purity. As though pain were the locking of the doors to freedom, the girl would now follow the path of Set with the mark as a reminder to herself as well as others. To Nightrule, the mark represented his failure and the end of their legacy. The Priest went on to declare to the girl, "You have done very well my dear. You are strong, much stronger than we have ever thought. I am your father now. You will be knowns as Arizima Sepret, and you will make the lord proud."
Sepret, one of the common household names of Mulhorand. But to Nightrule, it meant something more. Sepret was the surname of his father which Nightrule did not come to earn before his father's demise. With this Arizima possessing his father's surname, Nightrule understood what the Priest was trying to do. The potential rivalry that would start once Arizima was trained, Nightrule's survival would depend on how well he could maintain his conditioning as the fighter he was a few years back.
The Cult had allowed Nightrule's training which confirmed the boy's belief that Arizima would be both his opponent and ticket out of servitude.
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Four years pass.
Well, his original belief of the Sepret surname had more history than he first believed. From what he learned from the elder priests, Nightrule's father was once part of the Cult of Set and received his surname as a privilege for gaining subsequent influence in the Cult. So too did many of those in the Cult possess the Sepret surname.
Ramas Sepret was the name Nightrule earned as being one of the great fighters of his cell of faithful. That was his true name, the one his father would have given to him being outside of the Cult. Ramas, among the many individuals surrounding Arizima, watched as the High-Priest bestowed upon the girl a suit of armor and a sword of fine craftsmanship. The young man found the event rather dull until the High-Priest made him the target.
"On my word I want you to draw your sword and aim for his heart," the High-Priest motioned Arizima to Ramas.
The time for his test came sooner than he thought and preparations to fight the well-trained Arizima were poor. Ramas still had his instincts left although he could not give away to the High-Priest that his training was made in thought of actually fighting the Chosen of Set.
The girl's new blade came in straight at Ramas. Instead the sword impaled another devotee who Ramas had pulled in front of him suddenly and just in time. Arizima withdrew the blade without disappointment or surprise, she just needed to try again.
Throwing the fatally wounded faithful down to the side, Ramas leaped at Arizima with fists ready to pummel her. She was quick though, for she had trained against skilled fighters for many hours over many days, a disadvantage for Ramas. Side-stepping, Arizima brought her sword up at Ramas's back closing the boy's space by bringing up a knee towards his abdomen.
Twisting sideways, Ramas cushioned the blow from the knee to his side and blocked the sword's path with the back of his forearm. Both fighters stopped in their position. Arizima looking down to where her sword had been stopped by something solid on Ramas's forearm. Pulling his hood back with his free hand, Ramas revealed a knowing smirk to the girl and pushed her sword away with his forearm.
Pulling back his robe's sleeves, Ramas revealed his steel-reinforced, leatherbound bracers.
The High-Priest was about to raise his hands to stop Ramas, but thought this would be a good way to test Arizima's new equipment. Stepping back in place where Ramas once was in the circle, the one who had brought them both into the Cult watched in wait for the victor.
Arizima entered a fighting stance, sword pointing foreward as she carried it with her backmost arm overhead in a sideways position. Ramas pulled his fists up, likewise in a sideways position facing Arizima. The girl waited for Ramas to strike first, but instead the boy broke through the circle and went for the armory down the hallway. She cast her "father" a glance to see if she should persue him. The Priest nodded to confirm her look.
Arizima found Ramas in the hallway carrying a sword which seemed a bit rusty although designed quite the same as her own. Arizima entered that exotic fighting stance once more, Ramas took the opposite where the sword was out with his foremost hand pointed down to the ground towards his opponent in a sort of lazy fencer pose. Their eyes locked to one another and it was clear that both were intent on finishing this match in death.
Ramas brought his sword up around his neck preparing for a swipe as he charged first at her, Arizima was ready.
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Five years later.
Ramas managed to recuperate quite well from his near fatal battle with Arizima. He had to admit, the girl had a certain gift to her. He hated her for it. Out of complete envy. So much was his dislike for the girl that when he was given the right to be out more on the surface, Ramas's mission was to destroy the Cult which he believed had wrecked his life. For many months the man searched for the Order which Arizima was stolen from, using his fellow devotees as informants to the Order's whereabouts.
When Ramas accomplished what he needed to, all that remained was time and how well he could hide his plans from the Cult.
Passing the door to Arizima's room that fateful morning when the Order began to spoil the operations of the Cult, Ramas whispered, "A man pities a bird when it could no longer sing… not when a fish could no longer breathe."
A week later, word spread that Ramas had been captured by the Order. The High-Priest grew worried and expected foul-play to have been committed by one of the faithfuls. The hours grew long and each minute strained the High-Priest who felt failure coming despite his prayers to Set. No others knew of the Priest's anxiety for he always showed an unshakable faith in all his words and actions.
Ramas stood by the nearest exit from the underground lair, Paladins swarming in from all sides in hopes of finally dousing the threat that plagued the civility of the area for years. The traitor smiled widely, hands placed on his hip, threats and explosions tossed around within the dark walls of the Cult's base of operations. Ramas stood there silently, a Paladin watching the exit with him with a more serious look on his face. Before Ramas decided to break off and disappear somewhere, a young girl whom he remembered had been Arizima's personal aide, ran up to the exit crying. The Paladin's face melted to a sort of compassionate look, but Ramas caught her first.
"Ramas!" she cried out, almost glad to see him. Ramas looked to her, frowning and shaking his head before reaching out to grab her by the neck. She reached up and tried to pry his grasp from her, the Paladin reaching for his sword. Snickering, Ramas threw the girl at the Paladin who used both hands to catch her. Ramas unsheathed the Paladin's sword and stabbed upward through both of their necks. Kicking them both down the small set of stairs as they desperately tried to find reason in Ramas's actions in their final gurgling seconds.
Leaving the site as the scourging of the Cult came to a close, Ramas tried to gather what may have been left of the Eye of the Serpentlord and find Arizima at a later time knowing that she was too skilled to be put down by a bunch of misguided Paladins.
Login: Argos5
Character Name: Ramas Sepret
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Reviewed - XP Pending.
