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 The Free time of a Provocateur

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Celtius
Throne Provocateur


Posts : 62
Join date : 2009-11-15

PostSubject: Re: The Free time of a Provocateur   Tue Nov 30, 2010 5:55 pm

This story took place a week after Celtius' departure from his home after having defeated GraanShaKuun.

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Celtius walked casually through the barren wastlands of the Borean Tundra. His appearance was a stark contrast to what most know him as. He walked casually, swinging his shoulders slightly as he did so, his linen trench coat opened wide and waving behind him in the wind. His hood was down and his lips were spread in a smile of genuine peace and gladness. In his right hand he held the strap of the large leather back and hung behind his back, the strap extending over his shoulder. His long, sheathed katana was strapped onto the bag in a vertical position.

His body did not react to the harsh, cold conditions and so he appeared as a man on a stroll during the summer months, just enjoying the nature. As he neared a crossroad, a noice suddenly entered his ears and the foliage next to the crossroad, which prevented him from seeing one of the roads leading to the crossroad, suddenly gave way to reveal a small Alliance caravan.

It was a single intermediate sized wagon with 5 guards around it, mostly lightly armed. It was about to follow the road to the Alliance port nearby, but grounded to a halt as Celtius stopped in the middle of the crossroads, his eyes examining every inch of the "caravan".

Words were said and voices raised as weapons were drawn from their scabards the humans got into fighting poses, slowing surrounding Celtius. He narrowed his eyes slightly as his mind started analysing the data he had. Their armour isn't of best make and their weapons are simple. They are breathing a bit faster than they should be and their movements are slower. These men have been walking for hours, no doubt.

Casually, he set down his bag and unstrabbed the sheathed katana, gripping the handle in his right hand but he did not unsheath it. With a cry, the human that appeared as the captain charge forward, the rest of the guards following closely behind. They hacked and slashed at him, some trying to bash him with their shields, but Celtius always stepped just out of their reach and made use of the long length of his weapon to bluntly strike his opponents.

It wasn't long before they were worn out. Seeing this, Celtius smiled to himself. It was his turn. Within moments, the ground was littered with badly beaten, unconcious humans. His eyes scanned his former opponents for any signs of struggle but none did. His attention then turned to the man and woman who were sitting on the wagon that was pulled by the two horses. Slowly, he walked next to the horses and towards the couple.

As he reached the side of the wagon where the woman was sitting, his casually put a hand on the edge of the wagon, but this somehow caused the man to snap, drawing a quarterstaff and swinging out at Celtius over the gap in front of the woman. The man grunted as Celtius caught the staff and used it to pull the man out of the wagon. He landed heavily, having only the time to get to his knees before Celtius' cold fist connected with his face, snapping several facial bones as the force of the attack knocked the man backwards and out-cold.

A dagger suddenly pierced the flesh between Celtius' neck and shoulder. Surprised, he turned and jumped back, his right hand gripping the handle of his sword immediatelly. The sight he was greeted with knocked him off guard. The woman was cowering in the wagon, he body almost curled into a ball as she did so. It was the young boy, no older than 13, who embedded the dagger into Celtius' flesh, his left hand still holding a second dagger.

Celtius slowly let go of the handle of his sword, his free hand closing around the hilt of the dagger and slowly pulling it out of his flesh. Slowly, he looked at the 6 unconcious men around him and sighed. Carefully, he walked towards the boy who was trembling, whether it was from fear or excitement he could not tell, and held out the dagger for him to take. The boy didn't budge, his eyes locked on Celtius, waiting for an attack. But the elf only smiled slightly and stabbed the dagger into the woodwork of the wagon.

Celtius' next actions astonished the boy. With fascination and puzzlement, he watched as the elf strapped back the sword to his bag and started to lift up bodies and carry them onto the wagon. It took less than five minutes for him to position every unconcious person in a comfortable position on the wagon. The boy sat down with a thud, his jaw slack open, his mind unable to comprehend that the man that just took out all of the guards and his father was now leading their horses along the road towards their destination.

Three horsemen rode out of the port as the wagon came within their sight. When they reached it, they were met with a woman who was finally begining to calm down and a completely puzzled young boy. All the goods were in tact and nothing was missing. Six unconcious men lay in the back amongst the goods.

Celtius stood far away, his distance allowing him to easily watch the wagon while he was hard to spot for them. A smile spread on his face as he turned away and resumed his journey.
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Celtius
Throne Provocateur


Posts : 62
Join date : 2009-11-15

PostSubject: Re: The Free time of a Provocateur   Sun Feb 06, 2011 2:43 am

Present day

---------------------------------------------

Darkness, is this is?.....

Is this what I have been representing?

.....

Perhaps they were right all along...


Celtius was on his knees on a stone floor, completely bound in his prison. Shackles connected to a large stone behind him held his arms elevated at eye-level, his knees were bound to the ground by metal cuffs and his eyes were bound by a rough linen blindfold. He no longer reacted to the sound of dripping water onto stone, nor when it splashes onto the part of his sword that extruded out of the rock that imprisoned him. He just hung his upper body and kneeled there, defeated, lost and broken.

Echoes of footsteps reached Celtius' ears but he did not budge. He did not react when the sound of a metal door opening spread out through his cell, nor when a man in heavy boots entered, dragging a stool and leaving the door opened.

"It has been a while, hasn't it? The times when I proudly shook your hand and my daughter's wedding are long gone.... where are the days when the sun was shining and the birds were singing constantly?" The man asked him, his voice showing experience and age. Celtius was silent for a while but he knew that his captor had more than enough free time, so he broke the silence eventually.

"After a night like the one that had begun, one must ask, will the sun ever rise again..." Celtius replied in a low, cold voice, almost a whisper.

"Well said.... well said indeed! All that time spent buried in those piles of books have indeed helped you."

"Have you come to amuse yourself again?"

"Possibly... I want to hear your story, child."

"You know my story... all of it... my tome of secrets has been opened to you a long time ago, what more would you want than what you already know from my life?"

"But I do not speak of Celtius' Story.... I want the story of Celtius Muerro Excessum," the captor suddenly spoke in a grave and serious voice.

"You know that name.... how do you know about that?.... Nevermind, now at least I understand how you managed to keep me here... the ground must be covered in runes, the shackels are imbuded with power and the blindfold tampers with my Provocateur enhancement..... You have my praise," Celtius commented with an even, emotionless voice.

A moment of silence followed which was broken by a sound that finally forced Celtius to raise his head slowly. THE sword was drawn. He could recognise it by the sound alone.

"You know this blade, don't you, dog? This consecrated blade would do harm even to a being like you... so how about it, shall we keep this civil?" Celtius' captor asked in a patient voice, the sword lightly touching Celtius' shackles.

"Then spared your threats and your insults... if you know what you claim to know, then we both recognise the meaninglessness of such an act. I will tell you what you wish to know under once condition.....

.... Never send anyone to me ever again. You aren't going to leave me go, therefore leave me alone, I prefer the silence to the presence of another being," Celtius spoke decisively and yet his voice still remained without emotion, logic guided his words instead.

"We have a deal," his captor said as he sat down again and rested the sword on his lap, his full attention focused on his prisoner, the man who murdered many of his closest friends and, worst of all, his daughter...
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Celtius
Throne Provocateur


Posts : 62
Join date : 2009-11-15

PostSubject: Re: The Free time of a Provocateur   Mon Feb 14, 2011 12:57 am

"I have a question for you, Muerro...", Celtius' captor spoke after a moment of silence. His words were only met by the Provocateur's indifferent silence.

"You were the leader of the Provocateurs... zealously loyal to your cause, even almost attacking Magnark once when you suspected him of treachery... so why are you here? Lapdog, why did you leave when your precious congregation of corpses needed a pillar to support itself?" the captor asked in a slighly mocking voice. Celtius didn't answer for a while but his captor was familiar with him enough to simply silently await the answer.

"You spoke the answer, paladin. 'Lapdog'... I serve, protect, uphold... It isn't my duty to lead... I received no orders to support the regime that you spoke of. I serve a Dark Lord that is firm in his duty... anything less than that has no authority over me." Celtius answered in a slow, seemingly bored or tired voice.

"Do you honestly care for the House of Sylvanas? This doesn't seem like much of concern to me," the captor asked in an intrigued voice.

"'Care'? I thought you were wiser. Celtius is a tiny minority, you know that... That is why you don't use that name to address me. I lost the capability to feel a long time ago... It is merely logical that I uphold an oath and pay the price for the powers that I was given... no more, no less. Logic," Celtius explained.

"Intriguing... you truly have gone far from the man I once knew... Now I believe I understand how you could have destroyed everything you cared for..." his captor commented drily.

Silence became the unforgiving soundtrack of Celtius' cell as his captor became enveloped by his own thoughts and Celtius enjoyed the silence.

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Celtius
Throne Provocateur


Posts : 62
Join date : 2009-11-15

PostSubject: Re: The Free time of a Provocateur   Sun Mar 27, 2011 4:34 pm

"So your decision is final then?" the elf asked as he stood by the thick metal door.

"I have made my choice a long time ago. If what you said is true, then the world has moved on. My place in the Royal House is no longer wanted, no matter how necessary it is... I have no reason to leave this place," Celtius replied slowly, choosing his worlds carefully.

"As you wish, but you will never leave this place. Once I leave, this corridor and most of this underground crypt will be caved in. No one will find you here, no one will look for you here. You will stay here for all eternity," his captor explained, his voice serious and almost puzzled, as if unsure of Celtius' sanity.

"So be it," Celtius replied shortly and let his body hang limp. His captor sighed and shook his head as he walked out of the room and shut the large metal door behind him. The sound of a key turning the mechanism of a lock echoed throughout Celtius' small cell. Silence followed for a number of minutes after last of the elf's footsteps were no longer heard before Celtius felt a small tremor and then a serious of explosion. His entire cell shook and at one point it seemed as if the door was about to be torn from his hinges, but it held.

"Blessed silence.... I shall stay, a remnant of the past, until the future sees the merits of that past.... then my time will come," Celtius muttered to himself and relaxed as much as his chains let him.

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And so ends the tale of Celtius Muerro Excessum, the Throne Provocateur. He will remain locked in his cell until the end of time, or until the moment when a Dark Lord or a Dark Mistress will decide to locate him and bring him back into the ranks of the House of Sylvanas. Until such a time will come, however, his existance is merely.... irrelavant.
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Othragon Rotarm

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Age : 33
Location : Portugal

PostSubject: Re: The Free time of a Provocateur   Sun Mar 27, 2011 11:06 pm

*2000 years later, subway construction drill cracks his way unto Celtius' chamber, releasing the the bottled up unholy plague to the world*
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Celtius
Throne Provocateur


Posts : 62
Join date : 2009-11-15

PostSubject: Re: The Free time of a Provocateur   Mon Mar 28, 2011 7:01 pm

(( Now THAT would be hilarious XD ))
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