Goll: War
(OOC: I've been rather... recalcitrant in my duties to IC LJ of late. But I'm feeling a stir, so I thought I'd post a few and see how this goes. Oh, and this may turn in to my IC LJ for my other venues aswell.)
War. It's something few are comfortable with. The concept of death on such a grand scale frightens some, and excites others. It's different with me. I know that. Death is as comfortable as Tuesday. It's not a new thing, or something to force the blood to run in my veins. It simply is. A mortal will eat, sleep and breath. A vampire slumbers during the daylight, drinks the throat-wine of others and talks like someone gave a damn what they had to say. My kind... we kill as others blink. It is in us. It is inescapable. They will never learn this.
Goll moved through the dark stone walls of the Academy towards the Armory, his footfalls heavy within thick combat boots. He wore the leather jacket and hooded sweatshirt he had become known for, but the hood was thrown back and his inhuman flesh bared to the world. Not that any would see and be surprised - not here. The Hound of Darkness walked the walls of this Academy often, and if that upset some of the local Dragons... they did not voice that oppinion.
He threw open the heavy wooden door of the room and moved to one of the many weapons racks. He began to fit himself with wide belts of leather and even went so far as to take one of the duffel bags from the wall. A couple of crossbows, a assault rifle, several blades of various sizes - weapons fell on to Goll's person and in to the bag with speed.
"Getting ready to storm a castle?" The voice heald a touch of mockery, but a touch of concern aswell. Goll didn't need to turn to know who was speaking. Ia Tesla would be concerned for these weapons - she had crafted most herself. And, like so many of the local Dragons, she had no idea what to make of Goll.
"War has come. I prepare." Why was it so hard for Goll to speak the way these others did? He could attribute it to the many languages he had been forced to speak over the years... but that wasn't true. Something in Goll's mind didn't work the way the others' did. He would never be as intelligent as they - as eloquent. It was torture to serve eternity a fool... and all the worse to know it.
"Does Iono know? Or Calypso for that matter?" Ia entered the room proper, moving to pick up one of the finely crafted swords and test it's weight. "Whatever you're planning... it can't be like the other night. You can't... destroy..."
The pain was clear in her voice. It would be. Even the Axe could hardly understand what it was that Goll did. They did not understand that his rage... his mission, had been given him long before their creation. He had been set to Hunt by the Impaler. He and his Children. And the Hound would not stray from the course for a Prince' whim.
"They know. I go to prepare the Unsworn. And the Light and Mysteries aswell. We make them ready." Goll turned, clanking and clattering with all of the arms that bristled on him like a porcupine's quills. "This time, the blood touch all hands. All blades."
War. It is in me. But can the Hunt be taught to those who do not have it in their blood? I will find out. Many will die on both sides, I think, but the Hound is eternal.
War. It's something few are comfortable with. The concept of death on such a grand scale frightens some, and excites others. It's different with me. I know that. Death is as comfortable as Tuesday. It's not a new thing, or something to force the blood to run in my veins. It simply is. A mortal will eat, sleep and breath. A vampire slumbers during the daylight, drinks the throat-wine of others and talks like someone gave a damn what they had to say. My kind... we kill as others blink. It is in us. It is inescapable. They will never learn this.
Goll moved through the dark stone walls of the Academy towards the Armory, his footfalls heavy within thick combat boots. He wore the leather jacket and hooded sweatshirt he had become known for, but the hood was thrown back and his inhuman flesh bared to the world. Not that any would see and be surprised - not here. The Hound of Darkness walked the walls of this Academy often, and if that upset some of the local Dragons... they did not voice that oppinion.
He threw open the heavy wooden door of the room and moved to one of the many weapons racks. He began to fit himself with wide belts of leather and even went so far as to take one of the duffel bags from the wall. A couple of crossbows, a assault rifle, several blades of various sizes - weapons fell on to Goll's person and in to the bag with speed.
"Getting ready to storm a castle?" The voice heald a touch of mockery, but a touch of concern aswell. Goll didn't need to turn to know who was speaking. Ia Tesla would be concerned for these weapons - she had crafted most herself. And, like so many of the local Dragons, she had no idea what to make of Goll.
"War has come. I prepare." Why was it so hard for Goll to speak the way these others did? He could attribute it to the many languages he had been forced to speak over the years... but that wasn't true. Something in Goll's mind didn't work the way the others' did. He would never be as intelligent as they - as eloquent. It was torture to serve eternity a fool... and all the worse to know it.
"Does Iono know? Or Calypso for that matter?" Ia entered the room proper, moving to pick up one of the finely crafted swords and test it's weight. "Whatever you're planning... it can't be like the other night. You can't... destroy..."
The pain was clear in her voice. It would be. Even the Axe could hardly understand what it was that Goll did. They did not understand that his rage... his mission, had been given him long before their creation. He had been set to Hunt by the Impaler. He and his Children. And the Hound would not stray from the course for a Prince' whim.
"They know. I go to prepare the Unsworn. And the Light and Mysteries aswell. We make them ready." Goll turned, clanking and clattering with all of the arms that bristled on him like a porcupine's quills. "This time, the blood touch all hands. All blades."
War. It is in me. But can the Hunt be taught to those who do not have it in their blood? I will find out. Many will die on both sides, I think, but the Hound is eternal.