A Darker Shade of Malevolence - Rise of Adoras Lyonson


  • ICC

    Login: Vitiosus Phasmatis
    Character Name: Adoras Lyonson

    In the end, everyone finds a way to take what they want. I'm just honest about it.


    “Welcome.” beams a rather boisterous gnome, wearing rich apparel, clearly meant for an aristocrat. He grins, sporting rosy cheeks and dimples and appears to be quite the pleasant host. He continues to address the crowd, “I am glad that you have decided to join our small, but elite club.” A small, robed figure down the front interrupts with a murmured question, to which the gnome cheerfully replies, “No, the word cabal is fine. It's what everyone uses anyway, but we have so many more creative names for what we do. Never feel that a single word defines who or what you are. That is for your enemies.” The entire crowd seems to mumble and nod in agreement. Except a small boy, barely eight years old; he stands within the crowd, draped in rags. His facial expression is deep in thought, as if thinking strongly about what has been said. The gnome, unhindered by the interruption, continues to address the crowd.

    “Purity and idealism are for the weak-minded heroes, desperate to make a name for themselves at any charge. I would never say that we are victims, but it's truly amazing how murder can be justified in the minds of those who value life.” Some of the guests are heard to be agreeing wholeheartedly to this statement, as if they have been in such a ghastly situation. The boy, however, has pushed his way to the front to see the speaker. A frown comes across his face as he sees the gnome. How is it this little man can talk of bad things like that, the boy wonders, he looks and sounds so nice…

    “But let me show you around and introduce you to everyone.” The gnome clicks open a door, and begins ushering the crowd through into a large recreational room, already with some occupants making use of the space. “Many of our members are well-known in various circles. You'll no doubt recognize them, but please show some respect and never criticize or judge.” Amidst the original occupants, the small boy spots a portly old man wearing spectacles, and a turncoat. “That's the mayor!” he exclaims, before clasping his hand over his mouth. The mayor looks around, as if wondering where the closest exit may be.

    The gnome ignores the boy, and continues to talk as they pass a curtained room. “Others are a little more private and require that you not speak of them outside these walls.” He opens the curtain slightly for people to peer inside, revealing a rather gaunt and deathly figure sitting at a table, playing poker. His eye sockets glow an eerie green, and he is dealt a hand. “Bad things happen to those that speak ill of the dead,” the gnome adds before releasing the curtain.

    Many of the crowd speak loudly, mostly ignored by the small boy. His attention is still fixated on the gnome. “What's that? You want to get started already?” More raised voices and cheers. “Ha. Good. We appreciate your enthusiasm. But we have years to teach you what you need to know and the magic necessary to keep you alive a little longer than would be expected. How else do you intend to learn everything about ruling the world?” Rule the world? This little man can't know how to do that! The boy, still struggling with the idea that this gnome is evil, pushes his way right to the front and sits before him, listening intently.

    “Greed, conquest, power. We realize that your uneducated mind sets these tenets above all others. But, we hope to teach you that there is more to your rule than personal achievements.” A few startled and angered cries begin to rise in the background. The gnome grins, once again will rosy cheeks and dimples, “Of course, I'm kidding. There is nothing more important than personal achievement.” He winks at the small boy sitting before him, all the while keeping his attention mostly on the crowd.

    “But please. Today, you are our guest. There are servants about. Anything you wish can be had here. Anything. Do not cloud your mind with the limits of material gain. As you will soon learn, there is more to this reality than silver and gold. Sometimes, the greatest treasures lie beyond the veil of imagination.” He beams at the ragged bunch of misfits standing before him, and waves his hands in the direction of some comely wenches serving food and wine. The boy sits there at his feet, pondering what he wants most. I wanna rule the world, he thought. Show them bullies I'm better than them! Yeah, I could do that.

    The gnome, apparently not finished his spiel, continues in a cheerful tone, one to be expected from a fairy floss vendor - not an evil mastermind, “Tomorrow, everything will make sense. But, for now, I want you to know that we are here as mentors – guides if you will. When thinks seem hopeless or when the weight of the world is too much to bear, our house is your sanctuary and our books, your bibles. As I said, we are a small, elite club and our members are more like family.”

    “Eventually, the day will come when you no longer need us. And I will look forward to that day with a father's proud eyes,” he says softly, and looks the boy straight in the eyes. “You show promise, unlike these vagabonds, young one. I can see the passion in your eyes. You've lived your entire life in poverty, in ruin. Perhaps you shall be like the phoenix and rise from your ashes to start anew?” The gnome doesn't blink, narrowing his eyes. The small boy smiles, “You'll be my friend, mister?”. A quiet chortle escaped the gnome, “Yes, yes I will. My name is Janus. Janus Verenul. And what is yours, little one?”
    The boy stays silent for a while, his eyes darting around at nothing. “Adoras”, he whispers finally.

    “Well then, Adoras,” Janus begins, “Can you do something for me? There is a man in the room to your left who will help you while you are here. I want you to go see him now. His name is Riquel. Be nice.” Janus winks, and points towards the door. Adoras gives the gnome a strange look, as if deciding whether or not the gnome thinks he he stupid, before wandering through the archway.

    The room itself is well-lit, and well furnished. A polar bear skin rug has been strewn across the floor, while paintings and trophies adorn the walls. A mahogany desk with intricate carvings of leaves and small woodland animals stands near the back wall, and behind it on a matching seat, is a half-elf man. The small boy begins to talk, “Are you Riquel? I'm Ador--” He is interrupted by the half-elf. “Yes, yes. I know who you are. Janus told me what I needed to know. Sit down and listen, and you might just learn something.”



  • locking… sorry this didn't get reviewed sooner


  • ICC

    A lone figure scurries through the night, passing from shadow to shadow, trying to avoiding notice. He holds his breath, waiting for a lovestruck half-elven couple to stroll past the nearby square. They idle for a while, swooning over each other and passing sweet nothings between them. The lone figure smiles, and lowers his hood before stepping out of the shadows. “A fine evening for a romantic stroll, is it not?” he calls out to the half-elven couple, who obviously turn, startled to see a young human man, not a year past childhood. He casually walks towards them, the half-elven gentleman clearly caught off-guard by the boy's arrival. The boy has an air of confidence surrounding him, taking the entire situation in his stride.

    Smiling, he talks softly to the girl, “My dear girl, it is so good to see your ravishing beauty once more. I had forgotten how moving it was to see your fair skin glow under the night sky…Truly, you have won my heart tonight,” he continues, “And my dashing friend, have you not forgotten our little wager? Were it not for my efforts, you would not be here tonight. Clearly, the gods have entwined this meeting into fate, for why else would we meet up under these circumstances? Why, I am on my way to see our gnomish compatriot this very instant. Perhaps you two can join us!”

    Shaken by these very words, the gentleman begins to call out only to be stifled by the boy, one hand over his mouth, the other wrapped around the hilt of a dagger pressed firmly to his throat. “Tut tut, you should of known better. We are all friends here tonight, are we not?” A small nod, and a muffled sound escapes from the half-elven gentleman. “Well then, I am so thrilled you remembered. You owe me a rather tidy sum, one I would collect in blood were you not enjoying an evening out with this pretty dove.” He motions towards the frightened girl with his dagger before drawing it back to the half-elf's throat. He turns and smiles to the girl, “Now... Perhaps you should sit down and listen, little dove, you might just learn something.”


    //Yes, I know... No explanation for how I even came to Narfell... But it just didn't feel right continuing to write. It was as if it compelled me to stop before I was beating a wobbly mess of horse giblets on the floor. It leads into the story, without actually going into the real journey... I also felt like compartmentalizing the background so it was more aesthetically pleasing... Hope you all survive reading it. 😛


  • ICC

    It was here in the House of Whims that Adoras grew to call his sanctuary, his hideout, his home. Over the years, he grew to be a strapping young lad, always smiling and ready for a challenge. While Riquel taught him the arts of war, vigorously testing his discipline and combat prowess; Janus drew swords with Adoras in social swordplay, each opponent trying to outdo the other in the art of persuasion and glibness. Because of this, not only was Adoras an excellent thug, but he charming and lovable, unlike others in the House of Whims. His social aptitude sealed many unlawful incidents without bloodshed, bringing newfound respect, something he had never received his entire life. But with newfound respect, comes unexpected rivals.

    One brisk winters morn, Adoras awoke to the sounds of shouting and cries. He stumbled out of bed, barely clothed and ran outside to the recreational room to see the House of Whims in complete and utter discord. Many a priceless painting that once adorned the walls were missing, and fingers were being pointed at everyone. Janus stood in the middle of the rabble, quite flustered and unable to muster a masterpiece of wordplay to try extinguish the situation. The rabble grew louder and more violent, some even drew blades or threw punches.

    In the end, however, Adoras stood back and watched as the curtains set alight and burned, and through it's smoldering remains stormed Typholar the Foul, resident lich archmage. Typholar had decided he had enough with the ruckus, and promptly started flinging all manner of dark and forbidden magicks around the room until only he was left standing atop the pile of former house mates. “You. Boy,” he rasped, the sound of nails against a gravestone etched the words into Adoras' mind, “Unless you… Want to live... do not make a sound...” All Adoras could muster was a very slow nod. “Good...” And with that, Typholar stepped back through the remains of his curtain, which magically stitched itself back up as he stepped through.

    With that a great emptiness filled the mind of Adoras. It was not for the loss of his family, the members of the House of Whims, but for his purpose - What would he do with all his competition eliminated on the spot? A sinister smile stretches across his face as he pondered that thought, while checking to see who had fallen. His smile slipped away to a blank stare as he rolled over the bubbling corpse of Janus. Such a waste, he thought, Janus had all the control here... What made it slip? Adoras continued checking the fallen, before suddenly standing up. “Riquel!” he snarled.

    Storming into the room he once knew as Riquel's, Adoras stood in complete shock. It was bare. Not a damn thing stood in the room, nothing except an envelope on the floor. Carefully walking over to it, he opens it to find a scribbled note, in a penned in blotchy ink and a spidery hand. This made it difficult to read, however Adoras recognized it instantly, for he had grown up around it. The note read:

    _Dear Friend,
    I've moved on to a better life with a nice half-elven girl I met a few months ago. I hated how Janus treated you like you were better. So, I needed some money to start my new life. I hope you don't mind that I helped myself to the House of Whims. Don't come after me, I taught you everything you know about fighting. I don't want to have to hurt you.

    Sincerely,
    'R'_

    Vengeance seethed within Adoras, a feeling not felt since he was a small child. That bastard, he screamed inside his head. Now he knew what he had to do in order to get ahead. There would be no friendships too strong, no obstacles too great. This day, Adoras rejected the idea of unacceptable means to achieve what he wanted in life. Greed, conquest, power. Nothing more than personal achievements laid before his feet, ripe for the taking. It was time to rise from the ashes.