victorvon_doom (victorvon_doom) wrote in newalliance, @ 2015-01-04 22:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | [event] high fantasy, doom |
Who: King Doom, npc King Luthor
Where: Luthor's Tent
When: The Faire
What: High Fantasy event! Doom received an invite to King Luthor's tent and is not pleased with what he's told. Really, it's a marvelous thing nothing is destroyed.
Rating: PG
The kings that had not chosen to take advantage of the inn royal suites were not hard to spot--their tents were the grandest and most luxurious shelters claiming the hilltops across the fields like so many landed ship sails ringed with guards.
One of the raised canvas shelters was dark green and black, the trailing banners staked out on the grounds boasting the vague metal mask that was Doom's coat of arms. It was surrounded by very few humans in comparison to other royal tents. Instead heavy metal golems with glowing red eyes made a grating sound and snorted steam toward anyone venturing nearby. Few were so brazen and curious to come near, however. Doom had a reputation, one for also being a sorcerer. Few wanted to test the network of spells circling the tent.
Today Doom finally left the tent where he had remained since disembarking from his ship. No guard attended him, and perhaps that was more intimidating for all who noticed his approach and cleared the road. Or perhaps it was because he was riding something that was only equine in shape. The beast had no hair. No mane. The creatures hooves were cloven, and where the black and silver barding did not cover it, its bald hide showed black and loose over its thick muscle. Even under the long spiked champron, it was not hard to see that there were no square teeth of an herbivore lying over the bit. Every time it hissed at being redirected on the road, it flashed very large canines. This fell creature was stopped right before another royal tent of white with purple and gold trim. A servant started to come forward to take the reins and stopped short at the sight of the tall beast looking toward him hungrily. Thankfully there was no need to test its temperament. Doom dismounted and gave a complicated gesture and the fell creature's eyes filled with fog, head dropping as though asleep.
He couldn't have the bloody thing trying to eat people here. The other king would probably take insult.
Not that it was hard to insult King Luthor of Metropolis. King Doom brushed by the servant that tried to make him wait out in the general pavilion and walked directly on to the more private inner pavilion where he knew guests would be seen. He could hear that Lex was angry at something. He was yelling and by time Doom reached the rug just outside of the inner pavilion, a servant was scrambling out from behind the flap and frantically running away with wide eyes.
"I want her FOUND! Find Slade and have my alchemist retrieved! QUIETLY! And find out where my shipment is and why the Cutthroat wasn't at the docks this morning! NOW!"
Doom only glared at the fleeing servant as he scrambled past him, and the servant that had been following him swept ahead and stammered out quickly that his highness Doom of Latveria was here--right here.
The silence that ground out was tense, but when King Luthor spoke next his voice was once more controlled and calm. "Please have him enter."
As though Doom was going to wait. The servant held the flap to one side and the taller king ducked to avoid scraping the helm before continuing to stand near the table Luthor was seated at. The other king was a much different picture from Doom. Whereas Doom was all dark metal and green tunic, Lex Luthor was in white silks and fur trim, a cushioned crown on his head. He was currently pouring two wines, standing to offer Doom the goblet.
"I am actually surprised you came with such expediency, Victor von Doom," Lex Luthor noted.
Doom narrowed his eyes from behind his mask. No titles, the other King trying to establish their equality. Doom knew better. They were not equals. No one was equal with Doom. "You merely caught me between tasks. What is it you wanted?"
Lex looked closely at Doom's mask while stepping backward to retake his seat, as though he could measure from just the eyes and tone what mood the other was in. He couldn't hope Doom would remove his mask. The eccentric, violent-tempered king never did so. The most that would happen was what Lex watched now--the lower jaw pieces sliding to either side to permit Doom to drink. The scarred lips were a flat line of displeasure just as the mask was, however. Not even the exquisite elven wine moved them at all.
"A warning, is all." Lex quickly lift his palm, brows and mouth quirking up amenably. "Not concerning any harm from myself of course. The kingdom of Metropolis wishes only a peaceable relationship with its fellow neighbors and Latveria. There are those, however, who do not. Word has reached my ears that there will be an assassination attempted at the festivities."
"Assassins do not concern DOOM, Luthor," Victor responded coldly.
Lex gestured in a conceding manner toward Doom, attempting flattery, though it was hard to keep his teeth from grinding in the smile. "Of all of us kings, you are perhaps the most well protected, yes. Though I would not doubt an assassin would hope you are overly confident and give an attempt nonetheless. Oh, it would fail, of course," he hurriedly assured when Doom's eyes darkened. "But it would still cause a disruption, nonetheless. With that said, I do not believe that you will be the target, despite how many enemies you have."
It was no secret that Doom had angered a great many people during his campaigns across the stormy sea. He was still greedy for the lands around him, greedy to expand his empire to all. It was even part of his motto, the words for his newly established royal line. All will kneel.
"If you are seeking my protection, Luthor, you are sorely mistaken," Doom noted, tone dismissive.
Luthor waited till the other ruler had set his cup down on the table and was about to turn to leave. "What will happen when the Church learns of your ties with Hydra?"
Doom stopped short, turned so quickly his cloak whipped upward, his eyes glowing an unmistakable red gleam. His voice was controlled, but seething with rage. "DOOM would never lower himself to Hydra. Nor to the Sunlord's minions. I have nothing to do with their war."
Luthor feigned surprise. "Truly?" He looked studious, head turning as though to take Doom in better with one eye. Then more surprise. "You really aren't, are you."
The gauntlet twitched in a way that made it clear Victor was restraining from picking the man up by his throat in his own tent. "I will not tolerate such baseless accusations. Who dares say such?"
"That is the question, isn't it," Luthor said, face now grim. "It's been circulating among the kingdoms that Hydra is receiving their funding from someone not of our shore. With the way word travels, I suppose I am not terribly surprised it has not reached your ears yet. It makes me glad I chose to risk mentioning it."
"Mention it not again. Doom needs alliance with no such cowardly cults that profane the arcane arts."
King Luthor very diplomatically chose to not mention the mage community thinking Doom tarnished the arts himself. Instead he stood again, goblet in hand and looking thoughtfully to the ornate rug beneath his feet while slowly stepping toward the other ruler. "I will see if I can find the truth behind such rumors then. While I am glad, since I was not looking forward to seeing you named an enemy of the church, Doom, it means I have not found the head of this particular snake."
The mask had slid closed around the jaw, so it was simply the scowling metal and fiery eyes that leaned down closer toward him. "DOOM... does not fear the Church." The armored king then straightened, looking down his nose at King Luthor. "You called me to your tent merely to prod me for reaction to these rumors. Do not make such a mistake again. I will consider it forgiven only if these baseless rumors are found to be the falsehoods they are."
He then turned and stalked out of the tent, armor clanking with his hard, angry steps.
King Luthor couldn't help his smug smile. Usually stirring a hornet's nest took a great deal more throwing stones...