Revenge: Or, the Need for Constituency

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 8:12 AM Pacific Standard Time
From: LrdRhane


"That which haunts once shall haunt forever"-The Return of Rhane Machien Shaner It had been hell, these past four months. No, not that he wasn't used to torture--the lessons from back home had well prepared him for anything of this nature. Clawing his way up, gauntleted fist by gauntleted fist, he'd had time to think. Often, as the swampy earth coursed down about his armor, he'd picture several of those who irked him and fling them to a watery grave. A month...two, three four. His hand broke the surface of the swamp which had held him captive for all these weeks, and what soon followed appeared to be Lord Rhane..yet in truth, his physical body consisted of little more than a shrunken, emaciated zombie in control of some -very- powerful armor. ~~ * * * ~~It had been three weeks now, since his return. Still strapped to his back was the family broadsword; as fit as ever, despite the underground journey host and blade had so recently undergone. Very little was familiar--very little mattered. Only two things held his focus, and only two things would--the location of his brothers, and the death of those that flung him to that misbegotten grave of earth and leeches. After a short time, Rhane found the Arena; hardly a chore, considering its popularity. Noting the empty state at this morning hour, he issued a noisy clank to the message board, hand strokes halting at first, but soon finding the eloquence and etiquette of ages past...People of The Arena Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die DieThe post is left unsigned.

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 8:50 AM Pacific Standard Time
From: LrdRhane


(This is the final draft--the other should not have posted)"That which haunts once shall haunt forever"-The Return of Rhane Machien Shaner It had been hell, these past four months. No, not that he wasn't used to torture--the lessons from back home had well prepared him for anything of this nature. Clawing his way up, gauntleted fist by gauntleted fist, he'd had time to think. Often, as the swampy earth coursed down about his armor, he'd picture several of those who irked him and fling them, in his own twisted visions, to a watery grave. A month...two, three, four. His hand broke the surface of the swamp which had held him captive for all these weeks, and what soon followed appeared to be Lord Rhane..yet in truth, his physical body consisted of little more than a shrunken, emaciated zombie - in control of some -very- powerful armor. ~~ * * * ~~It had been three weeks now, since his return. Still strapped to his back was the family broadsword; as fit as ever, despite the underground journey host and blade had so recently undergone. Very little was familiar. very little mattered. Only two things held his focus and only two things would: the location of his brothers, and the death of those that flung him to that misbegotten grave of earth and leeches. Rhane found the arena after a short time; hardly a chore, considering its popularity. Noting the empty state at this morning hour, he issued a noisy clank to the message board, hand strokes halting at first, but soon finding the eloquence and etiquette of ages past...People of The Arena Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die DieThe post is left unsigned.

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 8:57 AM Pacific Standard Time
From: HumaDragbn

::stands at the posting board reading the strange note. Wondering to himself:: I wonder if somebody wants us to die? ::Huma rubs his chin and wanders off::

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 11:12 AM Pacific Standard Time
From: Kenman9696

::reads the post and is angered::

Rhane,

I've seen, in my short few months of frequenting the DoS, and my four or five weeks of dueling about a dozen hot headed pricks like yourself come with ill intentions for no purpose but to have ill intentions, and then leave after a week or so in anominity as lowly unworthy duelers. I guess all I'm trying to say is that there are dozens of duelers here that would stand against your moronic intentions, and though I am no leader, I will stand on
the fore-front of these proud warriors and bury you as the pathetic worm that you are.

-Ken-
The one with no titles

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 12:01 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: Kenman9696

::crawls in to a deep hole::

::shoots himelf in the head::

Guess I was just pissed at another big mouth who was wearing on me nerves,so I lashed out stupidly. ::feels really silly, at his sudden fit of anger::

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 12:04 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: Gaejin


Dear Sir, Your actions upon this board are completely uncalled for. Such Malice, Hate, Ill-Will, and Morbid Thoughts have surprised me. Perhaps when we meet I will teach you a thing or two.. ..about how to really scare the pants off these worms.With the utmost respect,A Heavenly Benefactor.

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 12:35 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: QuickVar65


::Sees the post:: Oh, yay, someone new who wants me to die? ::Goes home and wonders if Noelle will bake some muffins for whoever wants him dead, then returns to the boards, leaving a glass of milk, and a couple cookies:: To the sociopath, I would like to see you try to kill everyone in the arena. Lay on a hand on someone out of anger, and you will see everyone else retaliate. Whether you be lord or lady, everyone will give you hell. Welcome, or welcome back to the arena. ±Var Medici-Giovanni::The crossed off tombstone "±" symbolizing his desire to preserve life::

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 1:53 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: Zagaroth

He frowns as he see the note posted. "Who would so blindly hate every one who duels? I think this one should simply be considered one of the dangerously insane, and put out of his or he rmisery, adn ours." He shrugs, and continues looking through the posts.

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 2:21 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: J Oaknshld

Lord Rhane...Chaos opened up yer chest quite easily before, I'd have no qualms about doin' it again.

Welcome back weak one ::wicked grin::

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 3:44 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: KnghtVHonR

::Grins as he knows this could come from but only one person, who hath such darkness in his heart:

::Skakes his head, grinning, wondering if he'll ever stop his madness::
::Chuckles ta himself as he jests:: He just won't go away, will he. Like a bad rash, or a fungi.

Flicks a gold coin in tha air,
Go get yerself a hobby, lad.

::Walks way with a grin::

Respectfully,
Milites Christi
Translates ~ "Knight of CHRIST"

And ta Sir QuickVar....best of luck on yer upcoming challenge.

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 5:23 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: Arislan D


The former Lord Shaner frequented the Arena often, though he always tried to avoid the crowds which he found so overwhelming. As had become a routine, the Moran first stepped to the cork, idly flipping through the posts there as his green swirling pupils set in the black pools of his eyes scanned each one. Arislan Darius read each one with curiosity and interest, all the while tapping his masked cheek with his free hand. A response to a challenge for one of the titles of the sport, a public apology, the usual writings for the most part. Finally he reached one in particular, the word "die" repeated over and over again. Aris stood motionless for what must have been a long time, something about the post shook his being to the core. The writing of the word seemed all too familiar, yet the youngest son of Viktul could not put his finger on it. Shivering, Arislan stepped away from the board. His eyes continued to stare at the singular post even as one hand shakily rose to wipe his long, jet-black hair from his face. Arislan could not tell why he was frightened, for that was an alien emotion to him, all he could tell was that this post did not bode well for him, nor did it for anyone. (( OOC Note: Since the post by Rhane was left unsigned, and I'd wager it's as close to impossible as impossible can be that anyone would have any idea as to who the author of it is, that's how I'll play it. So, for all intents and purposes, all posts directed to Rhane were and are being ignored. ))

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/15/97 5:45 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: Kenman9696

::doesn't feel as bad anymore,since so many people got his back::

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/16/97 12:23 AM Pacific Standard Time
From: PrlUnicorn


Collie headed in for duty in the arena that night. It was the usual insanity of people talking and carrying on, but in a good humored way. There were of course the one or two problem children driving everyone crazy. After she changed her uniform, there was time to read the public notices. The one with the word Die written over and over again stood out like a sore thumb and made her blood run cold. A sense of evil passed over her. She pulled her arms around her shivering not able to stop the cold chills running up her back. There was sense of familiarity, but her intuition failed her. She headed for home and quickly, her defense mechanisms set off as well as the mother in her. All her children would be safe this night under the wards of Navarra.

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/16/97 8:35 AM Pacific Standard Time
From: LrdRhane


The manor loomed in the distance, home to Drakewyn Alabaster and her husband, the General Perrinis. Behind Rhane, the slow dragging of a sack left a distinct dirt trail along the well traveled road; the trail now colored red from the severed limbs held within the bag. Step by step, the ashen monolith drew up to the Manor door, a grunt issuing forth from his mask as he begins the slow process of tacking limbs upon their door with several metal stakes.* * ~ * ~ * *Hours later, the deed was done. A little girl's head topped off the gruesome totem, impaled to the door roughly six feet off of the earth. Below that, an old woman's torso--an old woman who he'd found on the way here, and who's arms and legs littered the fields some "klicks" back. One arm--the left--was a small girls's--in her teens, most likely, with a bracelet reading "Azael" in silver grain. A stake, jammed through the shoulder, held these fleshy toys against each other. The right arm of this construction was a female waitress; all a'covered with grime and muscle, the calloused hands leading to her probable profession. This arm(as the last), was attached through the shoulder. Perhaps running out of victims, perhaps running out of time--perhaps both, the legs were from one woman, the well formed thighs and firm buttocks suggesting a healthy, vital woman of 20 or so. His job done, Rhane jabbed one last stake into the chest of the vagrant, a small note fluttering off the end of this impaling sheath.Drakewyn wilL dIe Die die die die. . .(The "Dies" continue until the bottom of the paper)Upon closer inspection, the liquid used to write can be revealed as blood--fresh blood.

[DoS Archive]

Date: 11/16/97 1:08 PM Pacific Standard Time
From: Occurs

::reads the message boards, her dark green eyes growing troubled and disturbed. Saunters away slowly, lost in thought::

(s)Now this be a peck o' nonsense.

::breaks into a run up the stairs to go find Jeff::