Compendium Oses Halleli

Discussion in 'Giygas' Abyss' started by Giygas, Feb 3, 2017.

  1. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    Posting a story in progress herein. Reserving 15 posts. One post goes to one chapter. No idea when story will be finished. So far there's no sex in the story. Just a lot of violence.
    Here it comes.

    Chapter translations for people

    I - In Nomine Domini - In God's Name
    II - Epinicium - Aftermath
    III - In Omnibus Sanctis - In All Things, Holy
    IV - A Casus Gratia - Fallen From Grace
    V - Asmodeus Lo Vult - Asmodeus' Will
    VI - Omnis Cedit Domum - Everybody Goes Home
    VII - Tempus Omnia Vulnera Sanat - Time Heals All Wounds
    VIII - Simplex Vitae - Normal Life
    IX - Una Lingua Numquam Satis Est - One Language is Never Enough
    X - Cavea - Beware
    Last edited: Feb 3, 2017
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  2. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    I - In Nomine Domini
    The calmness of the night was interrupted by two brisk shouts. The voice in the darkness triggered a chain reaction of activity, as torches lit from one end of the horizon to the other. The light of the fires became like day, and the sounds of heavy, metal equipment disturbed the silence. The town set before this army was declared one of Heretics. Worshiping false Gods and performing ritualistic sacrifice, both of man and animal.

    That's all that Ose knew. He didn't even know the name of the town -- This wasn't his first, either, He'd joined the Order when he was a teenager. His father was a Templar and, before him, his father's father was also a Templar. This course of action was decided long before his birth. He held his sword in hand, fingers gripping the haft to a white-knuckled extremity. He wasn't afraid for his life; instead he prayed for the lives of those that would soon be cut short.

    Waiting. Painful waiting. It was always like this. He stood in the ranks, shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Templars, their tabards ablaze with ivory whites and blazing reds. The bold cross over his chest seemed almost to glow with the light cast by the torches. He looked down at it, and it gave him some comfort. He could hear conversations had by the leaders of his troop, as they patrolled in front of the long line of soldiers.

    The silence broke. Ose looked up to his commanding officer as the orders were given. They were to eradicate every single life in the village. That wasn't a new thing. The Order was famous for being the bringers of death. No city was safe from their iron fist. All in the name of God. As the calling of orders came to an end, the commander raised his sword into the air.

    "Sancti spiritus adsit nobis gratia. Maria, Stella maris, perducat nos ad portam salutis. Amen."

    Ose prayed with them. As did every Templar in the ranks. They did what they were doing in service of God. Heretics were condemned. It was written in the Bible, plain as day. "There is no other God but Him." His will be done. This knowledge reinforced Ose's grip on his sword. Once the prayer had concluded, it would begin. The sergeant waited for only a few seconds, before speaking again.

    "Those curs that lay ahead have rejected the Lord and we are the avenues of His deliverance! Their lifestyle is the bane of the Lord! It is our duty as the Arm of God to reap from this world all those who would turn away from Him! I pray, my brothers, for the strength to bring justice on the heathens, that we may once again live in the prosperity God intended!" He turned toward the village before them, and pointed his sword in it's direction. "Onward! Let no sinner escape His divine judgment!"

    And they were off. As soon as the last word was spoken, the Templars gave their shields a firm, alarming strike with the faces of their blades -- A sound that threatened to tremble the very earth. They didn't run. Running spoiled the hunt. The line traveled in uniform down the hill towards the village. Oil lamps had begun being lit within the houses, the dull orange glow cast through their windows danced with the shadows of activity.

    This is how it had to be. This is how God demanded it. As the Templars fell upon the village, their ranks became broken. It wasn't a matter of organized, choreographed combat. This was to be a slaughter. The Templars were the strongest defense of God's kingdom, and the heretics were the wolves, dressed in sheep's clothing. The Order's soldiers split off into small groups. Ose was, as usual, with Bors and Ragnar. Bors had been Ose's closest friend in life. Both grew up in the care of the church, their fathers having been across the world in service of God, and their mothers had died both died during child birth. Bors was a reliable, albeit ugly as sin, man. Ose had come to learn that he could depend on Bors in even the most chaotic of situations. He was a fairly heavy-set man, which probably explained why his weapon of choice was one of such absurd proportions. The Zweihander he held stood as tall as he did. The handle was nearly two feet in length alone. Ragnar, on the other hand, was an odd, recent addition. He'd only been on two operations with the Templar. He originally came from some foreign land, where he worshiped false Gods. In his travels he met a priest -- whom he had captured and held captive. Through his piety, the priest was telling Ragnar of God, and His great deeds. When Ragnar was to kill him, he instead set him free. After that, he found himself drawn to the prospect -- And joined the Order of the Templar to atone for his great and multitudinous sins. He seemed to be impartial to a hand ax, and a small round shield.

    Ose himself carried a broadsword and a heater shield. He found the weight and coverage of the shield to be perfect for him. It had the same emblem emblazoned on it as did his tabard. Its paint was chipped and had spots of blood that would not wash off, no matter how he tried.

    Ose was quickly drawn back into reality when he heard Bors.

    "On your left, Ose!" The husky voice called out, and Ose quickly responded. He raised his shield first, and without even looking he had deflected a swing from an old wood-splitting maul. The blow was heavy, but shrugged off fairly easily as Ose responded. He raised his sword and jabbed it outward from just below his shield, driving it into the stomach of the one who swung first. Pushing his shield out to distance himself from the man, Ose drew his sword back, letting the blood spill to the ground, and raising his sword above his head to deliver judgment. The man fell to his knees, dropping his maul. He was fairly unkempt, with a scruffy beard and filthy hair. Ose drove the sword down into the man's chest from above, holding it there for a brief moment before ripping it back out. The man before him crumpled to the ground, lifeless, blood pooling around his injuries. Ose hadn't the time to offer a brief prayer for him -- as another had come from the same alleyway. Unfortunately for him, his attempt was far less successful. Ose met his charge with a single swing of his sword, cutting a wide, horrible grin into his gut, allowing innards to spill out before him. The knife he'd held dropped to the ground, and he stood for a few short seconds holding his precious insides, only to fall to the ground, just like the first.

    Ose flicked his sword with his wrist, most of the fresh blood slinging off of it and onto the dirt below. He turned his head to Bors, and offered a nod. "Thank you, brother. I'd not wish to be lain to rest at the hands of one of these mongrels." It was far from over. The sound of blades striking flesh were filling the night, now, as the Order pressed in, towards the center of town. Not a single one would escape; so help them. The only thing louder than the ringing of blades on flesh and bone was the screaming. Ose couldn't focus on that -- not with the adrenaline building as it was. He and his troop were doing their job; Bors made the entries, cleaving doors from their fastenings with a single smash from his heavy sword. The way he used it, it seemed more like a hammer. The homes they destroyed were simple huts, consisting of little more than a simple wooden door, a small table, and some grass rolls for beds. The word of God was absolute; not a single man, woman, or child were to be left alive.

    Ose never even thought about it. He had killed countless people in service of his church, and tonight was no different. Cries for the lost children and parents were cut abruptly short. The Templar's blades were indiscriminate. Ose trusted his companions to do the job, just like they trusted him to. And they did.

    When all was said and done, the Templars reorganized in the center of town. The smell of death filled the air, and their once-clean tabards were soaked with the blood of the fallen. A headcount was done -- And not a single Templar was killed -- or even injured. The sergeant took a step onto the edge of the small monument, so that he was the center of the men's attention.

    "Listen up!" He shouted, and all of the commotion fell quiet. Once again the night was calm, the insects could be heard all around, and the stars seemed to shine once more. Ose stood directly in front of his sergeant, with his comrades at either side. "Our work in this place is finished. The heretics lay dead or dying. You have all done an exceptional job tonight, my brothers. Take what you want, and reconvene at the top of the hill at first light. We've more business not far from here."

    A uniform cheer rattled the ground as the Templars prepared to take anything and everything of value. Most of it would go to the Church - gold, silver. But any food or wine or tools they came across were theirs to keep, so long as they could hold them. Ose turned to leave, before the sergeant interrupted him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

    "I saw you tonight, Ose. You did God proud. You delivered judgment to more of these heathens than any soldier in our ranks." He stated plainly, and Ose looked back over his shoulder, brushing his fairly-long, dark brown hair from his eyes.

    "I did it only in the name of God, Sir." Ose stated, wiping a bit of blood from his face, and bowing his head respectfully.

    "Ose, you've been in my battalion for five years, now. Call me Solomon." He nodded, and gave Ose another firm pat on his shoulder. The sergeant was a fairly nimble man -- Almost too nimble to be in a place of such power. You'd expect to see somebody like Bors in that role, and yet the five-foot-ten-inches man stood, quite a bit shorter than Ose, and congratulated him. He had removed his helmet, the tall, intricately-decorated metal shimmered under his arm. His hair was short and gold as a wheat field ready for harvest. His eyes were brown, and there was a scar over the left one. He was... ugly as sin, yes, but he had a solid head on his shoulders.

    Ose grinned just a bit, and nodded. "Alright, Solomon. Fair enough." He straightened up a bit, the grin sticking on his face as he spoke with his sergeant, allowing his friends to go on ahead to see the spoils of their victory. "You don't need to congratulate me. I was merely doing His work." Ose offered, running a hand through his hair, which was matted with sweat. His own eyes glimmered from the refraction of torchlight, the ice-blue hues of his iris' shining dully. "But I appreciate being noticed," he laughed, before looking towards the house his companions had went in. "However, if you don't mind, Solomon, I should like to acquire something for myself, before those two steal all of my hard earnings," he insisted, looking back to Solomon, who nodded.

    "Take some time for yourself tonight, when you finish here. You've earned it, and we have a big day tomorrow." Solomon gave another pat the Ose's back, before taking his own leave, putting his helmet back on. Ose turned towards the house, and made his way in, where a few congratulations could be heard from the two already inside. They sifted through the belongings of the dead, going from house to house into the small of the night, claiming food and wine for days and denars of silver for the church.
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    II - Epicinium
    Ose decided to take Solomon's advice. After they'd finished taking what they wanted, they'd set up camp at the top of the hill. Having left his take with his friends, he dismissed himself from their company to walk the forest alone. Through the trees he watched the village burn. That was the way they operated. Once it was cleared, the homes were destroyed. Not a thing would remain come morning time. The sound of the roaring fire was all Ose could hear, and he laid a hand on an old ash tree. He wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling as he watched that fire burn. He'd never been conflicted about his actions before, and it was no different tonight. It wasn't that he believed what he did was wrong. It was something else. He had a sense of dread... and he couldn't figure out why.

    He stood for quite some time watching the homes burn, and leaning against the tree. He had left most of his armor at the camp -- it was easier to move around in the light chainmail than the chainmail, plus the platemail, plus the tabard. He pulled an apple from his satchel, one that he had brought with him, rather than having stolen, and shined it on his mostly-clean shirt, before taking a bite. The sweetness contrasted the taste in his mouth sharply, and he closed his eyes to enjoy this brief respite. The sound of the fire was getting toned out, and Ose listened to the sounds of nature that surrounded him. Bats flying about, insects on the grass and in the trees... This was something he hadn't experienced in a long time. Just. . . Peace.

    Ose remained still, against that old tree, for several minutes. And the whole time, he thought... of nothing. Of what it would be like if this was his life -- A simple farmer, going about day to day life, having a family, having children, having friends that weren't routinely drenched in blood. It was a fleeting thought, but it was a thought no less, and in the mental image Ose painted for himself, it was a wonderful life.

    It was interrupted, though. The subtle snap of a twig drew Ose out of his fantasy, and before he could even turn to see what caused it, he felt something... hot. Searingly hot. It almost didn't hurt right away. What was that feeling? He looked down.. His shirt was stained in blood. It was... fresh. It wasn't blood from the massacre. It wasn't someone else's. Protruding from the center of that hot, dripping red spot was a small spike, driven through his lower back and out his front. Ose coughed, and fresh blood spattered from his mouth as his hands moved to the wound in confusion. Then the pain set in. He couldn't scream. Blood clogged his throat and mouth, and any attempt at making a noise simply sprayed the fine crimson mist onto the forest floor. The blade twisted within him, eliciting a new sharpness to the pain, and sending Ose forward off of the knife, onto the cold ground beneath, soaked with his own blood. His eyes frantically panned the horizon, trying desperately to see what had happened to him. His sword rest in it's scabbard on his hip, and he hadn't even the strength in his arm to attempt to reach for it.

    As he lay dying, a familiar voice was heard. It was hard to understand, over the choking sound of his own blood welling in his throat. But he knew the voice.

    "Forgive me, God. But this was a necessary sacrifice in Your name."

    That voice rung in Ose's head for the rest of his life. And as the figure walked away, Ose did his best to see who it was. All he saw was blonde hair, glowing by the light of the fire from the village. His eyes closed, and he remained there for several minutes, bleeding, choking, coughing, crying. The pain began to subside, but not because he was getting better. In those last few minutes, he returned to his dream. He was sitting at a dinner table, candles lit and a beautiful wife across from him. Two small children could be heard playing nearby.

    And then it was silent.

    The blackness swirled in Ose's mind. He was sure his eyes were open, but he saw nothing. His hand roamed the spot that was stabbed. The skin was unbroken, and there wasn't a hint of the wetness of blood. He moved his head as if to look around, but all he saw was black. He felt no pain. He felt nothing. He heard, and saw, and smelled nothing. He shouted as loud as he could muster -- but not a sound escaped his mouth. He was standing on... nothing. What the hell was going on? It stayed this way for several minutes. It was even more unsettling to Ose than the betrayal he'd just suffered.

    Or did he suffer it? Was it all a dream? Was he dead, or was he just asleep?... He wondered about this for what seemed like forever, when finally something started to come clear. The fog was beginning to move itself from his eyes. And when he could finally see again, he found himself in an unfamiliar place. He felt as light as the air. He looked down at himself -- he was still dressed in his chainmail, and there was still a dark red stain of blood on his shirt.

    "So it did happen," he mumbled to himself, his hand tracing that bloodstain. He was so focused on himself that he didn't notice his surroundings. A fairly placid voice rung out from not far away.

    "Yes, it happened." The voice said, and it caught Ose's attention immediately, staring dumbfounded at the man before him. He wore all white, and had a shining, golden halo. Instinctively, Ose bent his knee, and fell to the ground before the angel, bowing his head and offering a short prayer. The angel stood there, waiting for him to finish, before continuing.

    "Ose Hallel; Knight of the Order of Templars; Son of Oso; You cometh before me and seeketh thine entry into Heaven. You hath served thy life in commitment to God. He doth see your service, and so deemeth you worthy of entry into Heaven." The angel didn't wait for Ose to speak again, simply raising an arm to the side. A sort of portal seemed to open there, and Ose looked hesitantly towards it. So he was dead... And he hadn't so much as wished his two closest friends a goodnight. He waited for a few minutes, before bowing his head toward the angel.

    "God is great," he stated plainly, before signing the cross, and stepping into the directed portal. He did his best to look up -- He had a halo, as well. From his back sprouted two elaborate, ivory-feathered wings. He felt his entire body change... Into something different. But more importantly, he found himself in an audience with God himself.

    "Ose Hallel; Knight of the Order of Templars; Son of Oso; You are worthy of Heaven. You lived in dedication to the one True God, and He has heard all of your prayers; In life, you were a noble warrior. Your death was not befitting of you. The one who killed you--" He paused, as if to let Ose have a moment to speak.

    "Solomon." Ose replied flatly. He knew exactly who it was, now. He heard those words that were the last in his life so clearly in his mind, and the visage was... fresh. He knew exactly what had happened. "I was killed because I was outshining the Commander himself. That was his only reason."

    "Correct." God said. He continued. "Solomon has committed murder; his acts are treasonous and he has taken from the world one of my finest assets; He has done damage irreparable to himself." The voice was just as thunderous as Ose had always imagined, and he bowed respectfully as God spoke.

    "And you shall serve me in Heaven as you did on Earth; You will become Archangel Ose Hallel, Bane of Heresy." He spake, and Ose knelt before him in tribute.

    "O God, your kindness knows no bounds. I will execute your will in death as I did in life. Yours is all the glory, My Lord." Ose remained on his knees for several minutes, before standing. It was only then that he looked at himself. He was... different. His chainmail and bloodstained shirt were left as he entered into God's domain. He wasn't even human anymore. His body was shrouded in a fine layer of silver fur, spotted black along his sides and back. The crests of his wings were decorated with white gold. There was a rigid ruff of shimmering feathers around his neck, as well. They spanned to the top of his head, almost like a cloak. He had a long tail, that flicked from side to side almost on it's own. The only thing he seemed to wear was a fairly heavy, thick codpiece fashioned after an angelic wingspan. It glinted brilliantly in the light. Ose also felt two heavy swords mounted over his back, and traced his hands along their hilts. He spanned his wings, getting used to the feeling of controlling these new limbs.

    God presented him with a mirror, so that he could look at his new self. He had the head of a leopard, and the body of one, too. His feet and hands maintained the strength they had in life, and his new figure stood tall. He was nearly nine feet in height. After several minutes of taking this new body in, he looked to God, and bowed his head. "Thank you, O God." He performed the sign of the cross, before being dismissed from His presence.

    Ose had no idea what his new job required. He figured if he was needed, God would summon him, and so he found his new home, and began to make it feel more like home. It was large. Unreasonably large. He was used to living in a small barracks with his comrades, each man getting a small bed and about two square feet of personal space, and that was it. His home consisted of almost a dozen rooms, a separate one for bathing and sleeping. It was almost too much for Ose to process. He paced around the anteroom for some time, still getting used to his new height and body.

    This was going to be a task. There was a lot for him to understand, and he didn't know how much time he had to do it, either. So he began training himself - physically and mentally - to perform his duties. His knowledge of archangels was limited, as encounters with them in the world were unheard of. He had begun to train himself how to fight using two swords at once, learning the importance of a parry. His sword style was going to be self taught.
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    III - In Omnibus Sanctis
    It had been two years since Ose died. He had grown stronger in his current state - The physical limitations of his mortal body left behind, giving way to a new kind of strength. He had since trained himself how to wield his swords expertly, and even given the blades names. The blade for his left hand was named Bors, and the one for his right, Ragnar. They were the two most appropriate namesakes Ose could think of for his blades.

    However, he had not been able to make any use of them yet. Even after all of this time, he had no understanding of exactly what his task was. He had heard nothing from God, had no summons from any other archangels, and in fact had barely even met another soul. The extent of his interaction since his death was a simple introduction to the next archangel over, who had been there for aeons before Ose had.

    Still, Ose prayed daily as he did in life, and set about a morning bath. He placed his swords at the edge of the pool, and stepped into the hot water. Since his death, he had made it abundantly clear he would never be caught off guard again. One mistake was fatal. He would not let anyone get the best of him again. Even though he was in Heaven, he felt the need to make this practice normal. As he entered the water, he placed his codpiece next to his blades, and began to sink into the hot water, allowing it up to his long neck. He soaked for a long while, simply watching the doorway, and looking around the room. The water was pleasant, and it did wonders to ease the knots in his back. He was sore from his constant training, but there was nothing else to be done until otherwise stated.

    He enjoyed the comfort of his bath for the better part of an hour, before finally deciding to step out. He freed himself of the warm water, his fur matted to his body, making a wonderful display of his musculature for the audience of nobody to enjoy. He fetched a towel, and began to run it over himself, drying that fur and looking to his swords. They had their names engraved along the blades -- a task Ose took upon himself. It was elaborate, and he was proud of his work. He looped the towel around his waist, retrieving his belongings and returning to the entryway. He noticed someone standing within his door, and he straightened up a bit, closing his wings tight against himself. The figure wasn't familiar.

    She stood fairly short -- probably just over four feet. Half of Ose's, easily. "Who enters my home while I bathe? Have you no decency?" He asks, setting his armor and swords down for a moment. He stepped towards her, crossing his arms over his chest. She spoke up to him in a soft, innocent voice. She seemed barely old enough to be out on her own, but her wings were larger even than his, and her halo glowed more brightly.

    "Archangel Ose Hallel, the first of his name; The Lord requests your presence post haste. Please make yourself presentable to Him, and I will take you there." She said simply, her delicate golden eyes focused on his.

    Ose nodded, and bowed his head respectfully. "As you wish," he agreed, returning to his equipment and unwrapping the towel from himself. He was naked for only a brief moment, securing that codpiece in it's place and once again mounting his swords to his back. He spanned his wings, and made his way back to her, his ice blue eyes locked on hers. "I am ready. At your will," he nodded, and allowed her to bring him through to God's presence.

    He once again found himself before his Lord, standing far more proud this time than he had initially. His body had become stronger, and he was now comfortable with the control of both his wings and his tail. His halo had also grown more luminescent, and he carried with him an aura of calmness. He bowed before God, and straightened up swiftly. "You summoned me, O Lord?"

    He got a response fairly abruptly. God's voice rung out loudly. "I did. I wish to inform you that you will be presented with a device, that you may watch the goings-on of your Templars from where we stand. You may not intervene, but I understand that you are eager to know of the fates of Bors, Ragnar, and Solomon. I will grant you this wish in return for your service."

    And it was just that brief. No sooner had he entered the chamber than he was being escorted out of it. It seemed almost unnecessary to even bring him in to speak, aside from the way that God had very sternly informed him that there was to be no divine intervention. As he was brought back to his home in the presence of the serene young girl, he bowed his head. "I thank you for your assistance." He began to return to his daily training, before realizing the girl didn't leave. "Is there something you require of me?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

    She didn't respond, and instead smiled at him from where she stood. Her eyes stayed on his, which gave him a bit of a chill. It was an uncomfortable silence, and it lasted for far too long before she finally opened her mouth. "I will be overseeing you, now that you have been granted this power. Angels who gaze too long to the mortal world often get sentimental and feel the need to intervene. You need to understand -- That cannot happen." She spoke sternly, and Ose cleared his throat.

    "Yes, God made that clear," he confirmed, frowning slightly as he adjusted. "Honestly, I'd just prefer to resume training... But it seems you're adamant on showing me how to operate this ... Thing. I suppose I can entertain you for some time." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, before allowing her to lead him to a side room -- one he'd never even entered, in his own home. This device was... enormous. It was similar to what he'd heard when he was alive; an enormous arrangement of planets hanging from thick cording, swirling slowly around a large model of the sun. He walked around it with wide eyes, taking in the sight - and the fact that the planet Earth was, rather than it's vibrant self, a fairly opaque sphere, cloudy and dark.

    He approached it, glancing over his shoulder at the girl, who nodded. As he stepped closer, the cloudiness began to give way to a fairly clear image. He could see his old companions. They were settled in a fairly large camp, and there was a large, walled city down the hill from them. He couldn't tell where they were, but the walls seemed to be fairly well built. There were catapults and trebuchets, and a larger army than Ose had ever seen for one Templar operation. Archers could be seen topping the high walls, and there was clear tension in the air. The battle hadn't yet started, and Ose watched with utmost interest.

    "Solomon is there. He's still in charge, I see... Pig." Ose grumbled, reaching his hand to touch the sphere, holding the smooth surface as he focused at it. He was becoming far more involved in this than he had intended to -- and if he glanced towards the girl, he'd see a wicked smile on her face. That smile that went unnoticed to Ose carried with it such a heavy weight. Unfortunately, Ose was far too distracted with what he saw before him. And as he watched, it began to unfold. Even with the army at it's size, the Templars were far outmatched by the tactical superiority of that wall. Coupling that with the fact that the layout of the city was unknown to the Templars, and the narrow entrypoints that would be the only way in... There was no way it was going to be a successful attack. Why would Solomon engage in such a stupid fight? In history, the Templars seized cities like this through a series of smart decisions. They would bar any food from entering, invoking the name of God as their rite. They would starve the city into crisis, and when they could no longer defend the walls, they would finish the job. Why were they going to fight in such an open field?... None of it added up.

    Ose didn't understand. None of it made any sense. He was asking his questions, which never received an answer. The girl in the room seemed uninterested in the affairs of the mortals -- only watching him, and smiling. Ose couldn't draw his eyes from what he saw, as the scene unraveled. The first act of this was one of the enemy's. It was subtle, especially given the small vantage Ose had, but he heard an order in a foreign language.

    "Ar-Rami, Istada!" He had no idea what language he was listening to, but it was obvious what the order meant. As soon as the last word echoed into nothingness, a flurry of motion could be seen atop the walls. The archers drew their bows, and pulled the strings back in uniform - before loosing a wave of arrows. The shadow trailed across the sky -- while the Templars were in rank. They heard the order as well -- and they didn't have much time to respond. Their prayer was cut short, and Solomon's voice could be heard above the chaos.

    "Shields!" He barked, lifting his own tower shield to the sky and lowering his stance, bracing for the coming impact. As quickly as they could, the Templars followed the command -- but for many, it wasn't soon enough. The rain of arrows met with shields, steel, and flesh -- Thudding loudly against those raised shields, piercing into the wood with impressive force. The ones that didn't hit shields either thumped into the dirt, or met with the bodies of the unfortunate Templars. It wasn't common, to say the least, for combat to be done in such a way -- One side would move towards the other before anything else would occur. The enemy, in this case, didn't seem to care for tradition. More than a dozen Templars were struck with the crude, barbed steel arrows. The tips had spikes fashioned in such a way that to remove them would take with them the surrounding flesh and organ; often resulting in even more severe injuries than just being shot.

    The arrows seemed to fall forever, to Ose. The sounds of battle were so close and they brought a terrible emotion to the archangel. A fist clenched as he watched, helplessly. Once the arrows finally stopped, Solomon's voice could be heard once again. "Charge!" He shouted, pointing his sword towards those impressive walls. "Trebuchets!" He raised his other arm, and threw it forward. "Loose!" And as his arm arched forward, the ropes holding the tension were cut, and the massive device lurched forward, launching a combination of enormous boulders and large jars filled with oil towards the walls. Some of them passed over the walls, smashing into roofs, or streets, or homes, and crushing them to dust under their mass. "Archers!" Solomon called, and the crossbowmen shouldered their weapons, aiming towards the wall. "Light!" For every archer, there was a footman with a torch. The bolts they'd loaded had their tips wrapped in cloth, soaked in a flammable oil. They were lit by a torch, and the action was performed very fluidly. Solomon had advanced their combat technology impressively in Ose's time away.

    "Fire!" The word cut through the momentary silence, and the flaming arrows were sent through the air, soaring wickedly towards the walls - aimed intentionally for the places soaked in that oil. Many of them hit their mark, a few sent askew by the wind. As soon as the flame touched that oiled surface, the wall burst into flames, burning many of the archers who garrisoned it. Even with the superior technology, though, the Templars weren't going to have an easy time. This became apparent to both Ose and Solomon as the soldiers approached the wall, moving towards the gate with a heavy ram in tow. The archer combat continued meanwhile, the walled archers maintaining their height to suppress the crossbowmen, who had to take longer to reload their weapon. The ram they had brought had a fairly well constructed frame, a sturdy roof overtop of it to protect those operating it. The outer gate was fairly easy to access, but there was another one inside that they hadn't been aware of yet. Above, another foreign order was shouted, and among the commotion, those at the door couldn't hear it -- and thus, weren't aware of the danger at hand. As they fought to gain entry, two enormous barrels of boiling oil were tipped above; and the scalding liquid rained down on those below. The ones directly against the ram remained relatively safe, though the spattering liquid would cause immediate and severe burns, while the poor souls in less cover were soaked thoroughly, suffering immensely as the burns boiled their skin.

    The few who avoided the rain of oil struggled to step over the bodies of the fallen -- those who hadn't died, but were left screaming and writhing in mortal agony. It was a hard thing to ignore, but it was also part of a Templar's training. They made headway, pushing up to cover under the roof of the ram, and raising their shields up to extend the coverage. The ram continued smashing against the door, and Solomon had the trebuchets re-equipped for another barrage. "Loose!" He shouted, the trebuchets now aiming to bring down a section of the wall, equal parts explosive and boulder, aimed universally for one point, far to the side from the door. Opening two entrances would allow for easier entry, and would break the defensive strength of the city.

    The heavy payload made it's way through the air, slamming violently into the wall, smashing an enormous pit in it's first layer -- but yet to proceed through it's second. It was a very well built wall, and it would be at least five minutes before the trebuchets were again ready to fire. Ose could feel the dread surrounding the dwindling Templar army. So many had already died -- and they hadn't even gotten into the city yet. Finally, though, that ram broke it's way through the first gate, eliciting a loud cheer from the company that operated it. They rolled it into the portcullis, towards the next gate, which seemed even heavier than the first. This proved to be a dangerous decision - the ceiling open for archers to fire upon them, and walls on either side. There was now only one means of escape, and they'd be tripping over their dead on their way out. Determined, the Templars held their shields up in such a fashion as to deflect the arrows to the ground, rather than to stop them dead. The more direct the impact, the harder it was on the shield. A grazing blow could provide protection just as well, while also maintaining the strength of the equipment.

    And they would. Arrows began to pour down at the soldiers, the occasional one getting in, striking either the ram itself, or grazing a flesh wound to one of the Templars. They maintained their strength, despite all of this. Ose could actually hear them singing -- A practice he and his friends had started when they were in a dire combat situation. It was actually a very practical thing -- It provided some comfort to those involved, while also disheveling the enemy. If your opponent can fight in such dreadful conditions and still have the motivation and gall to sing? It was an unsettling thing to behold. But Ose recognized the rough voice that lead the song.

    It was Bors. He was always the one who started it. Ose's eyes screwed shut, and he did his best to restrain even a single tear as the emotions tore through his body. He looked to the girl, watching him so intently. "They have to stop. There's no way they're going to win." He growled at her, pulling his face away from the scene for the first time in nearly an hour. "They have to stop." He repeated sternly, stepping up to her with a ferocious anger in his eyes. She simply smiled at him, and shook her head.

    "They will do what they will do. You do not have any say in the matter." She explained calmly, still smiling. Her demeanor was so polar opposite of Ose's. And that only pissed him off more. "God said to you directly that you are not to intervene. Under any circumstances." She looked at him, her smile widening. "You wouldn't want to disobey Him." She seemed almost cruel with how she spoke.

    Ose growled deeply in his throat, before turning back towards the sphere. He stared at it again, watching as the scene continued on. There was nothing he could do... All of the people he grew up with and lived with were falling. The singing continued, though. Bors was always a fool. Solomon seemed completely detached as his army suffered -- There was but a handful of people remaining. He ordered the trebuchets to fire once more -- and as he did, he brought his other hand up, as well. Once a liar, always a liar. As he brought up the other hand, he turned his head over his shoulder. The unspoken order was not issued to the Templars. Solomon had in fact hired a small band of mercenaries, and had them waiting out of sight. The archers and laborers working the siege engines didn't stance a chance as the soldiers rushed in from behind - killing each and every one of them, leaving Solomon on his own. He turned to them, and stepped down from his stand, approaching them and giving who appeared to be their leader a fairly heavy bag. Words -- unknown to Ose -- were exchanged, and Solomon began to walk away.

    Ose, unable to take his eyes off of what he was witnessing, felt his rage building exponentially as he put together exactly what Solomon had done. In the same way he died, Solomon just condemned the entire troop. All for the sake of inspiring more fear and hatred, growing his ranks, and fattening his coffers. And as Ose watched, his eyes followed that lone battering ram, manned only by a dozen men, who hadn't even realized what happened far behind them. Bors kept the rhythm in his song, as they pounded away at that heavy wooden door. The trebuchets creaked as they were drawn back to readiness, and loaded. There was no order this time -- And the heavy machines launched at an uneven time. That was the only warning Bors had been given. The Templars were very systematic, and combat was done in such a way that everything was uniform. He turned under his shield, only to see the half-dozen heavy boulders closing in on the gate in which they stood. And then it went dark.
  5. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    IV - A Casus Gratia
    None of what Ose witnessed was going to stand. He was sure of that. God be damned. What he saw was not an act of faith. That God sat idly by and did nothing about what Ose had witnessed only boiled that rage further. For his entire life, Ose had dedicated every act he'd ever done to his God. This God, who did nothing to stop the deaths of thousands of his most devoted.

    How could everything Ose believed be so absurdly wrong? The thoughts clouded his mind as he loomed in his own room, mulling over every possible angle. In no scenario could he see God being in the right. The more he thought, the more furious he became. The way that girl had spoken to him... It almost seemed as if she wanted him to challenge God. And the more he stewed on it, the more he actually wanted to. He sat for several hours, until he could sit no more. He made his choice. This could stand no longer. He pushed open the door from his chamber with such force that the hinges that held it on snapped. The door fell with a loud slam - startling the young girl, who had, ever since that day, stood by his door. He didn't even acknowledge her. He swiftly stepped through the room, tearing the door from it much like he had the other -- and entering that room that held the 'gift' God had given him. He raised his hands up to his back, gripping firmly to the sword hilts that were there, and drew both of the blades out. "From this moment, you are no longer Bors. You are no longer Ragnar. My friends died serving the same foolish cause I did. I love you both. But these names do not offer me justice." He paused, and glanced at his weapons. He lifted the sword in his left hand. "Iudicium." And then the one in his right. "Ira." Judgment, and Wrath. He looked up at the contraption, and gave both of his swords and expert spin, before cleaving into everything in arm's reach, shredding and tearing and smashing every piece of it.

    The girl in the main room only smiled. The noises filling the room seemed to feed that smile. It grew and grew, until it was a very wicked grin. It had happened just like she hoped it would. It's not that she stacked the deck -- Everything Ose saw happened exactly like he saw it. But it was due in part to her for being so distant when he needed help. She stood calmly, as she heard Ose panting and heaving, standing in the devastation he'd created.

    And then he emerged from the room, staring at her. "Take me to Him. Now." Ose demanded, pointing Ira towards the girl. "Or I will kill you where you stand." He was serious -- she could see that. But it was exactly the reaction she wanted.

    "As you wish, Master." She spoke, opening that portal, and stepping through. She didn't address God. Even if she did, it wouldn't take long for Him to work out that she was not exactly on His side. Ose stepped through not a second after her, swords still drawn as he stared with a burning anger towards God.

    God went to speak -- but Ose didn't wait for him. "Save it. I tire of this façade. I tire of the absurd, draconian rules you spew forth to even your highest ranking angels. You sit here on your throne and you watch the world destroy itself for nothing. You call yourself the True God, and you do nothing for your people. What kind of God would sit and allow his most devoted to be slaughtered by some traitorous defecation of a man?" Even though he punctuated that question, he continued to speak before offering even a small window of response. "You forbid us from intervening in the lives of the mortals, and they die for nothing. People who put faith in you, who held sword in your name, who enforced your rules and demands on the world. You force us to watch as they die in vain. You're no better than Solomon, and I am no longer interested in serving this baseless existence." He raised his sword towards God, and growled. "You are the enemy." He stated plainly. The girl beside him remained calm, and didn't speak at all. She simply waited.

    God had an inkling that this was coming. He had given Ose a test; and Ose had failed. "Archangel Ose Hallel; Knight of the Templars, and Son of Oso... You have turned from my grace. Your failure here is immeasurable. From this moment forth, you are exile from Heaven; Your eternal soul is cast into the depths of Hell where it will rot for all eternity. There will be no mercy for you." As God spoke, Ose felt a searing pain in his back -- his vibrant wings being torn away, fresh streaks of crimson blood spraying from his back and down his silver fur. He crumpled to his knees, but refused to collapse. With every ounce of strength and hatred in his body, he worked back to his feet, and stood, heaving.

    "Mark my words," he growled in a low, feral tone. "I will destroy you." He raised his right arm, and began to drive Ira down towards God; only to be stopped short by an unnatural force. The hatred burning in his eyes spoke reams to God; and Ose felt his halo darken, and fall. He glanced to the side, only to see the same treatment occur to that young girl who had accompanied him. She was on her knees, blood pooling around her knees, but still smiling that same sincere smile. Ose began to sank into the clouds beneath, as did the girl.

    And then they fell. Together. As Ose watched what was once his greatest dream disappear into the sky, he felt the girl's soft hand envelope his. It was an odd kind of warmth. Her small fingers weaved between his, and she pulled herself towards him as they fell. The blood streaming from where their wings had been torn created a beautiful shimmer in the sky above them, and she pressed her arms around Ose.

    "Thank you, Master, for finally freeing us..." She spoke softly, so quietly that he almost couldn't hear her past the rushing of air. He did not understand at all what she was doing, but the comfort of having her was beyond comprehension... And so instinctively, he closed his arms around her, too. The two fallen angels held one another as they plummeted ever downwards, spiraling together, leaving a sea of crimson behind them.

    He held her. He held her tighter than anything in his entire life. He'd never had love in his mortal life, and the majority of his time as an Archangel was spent alone. He felt something different. Something new. As his arms tightened around her. He pressed his snout in against her hair, placing a soft kiss on top of her head. His long tail curled around, looping around the girl's waist. "The two of us deserve better than that. There was nothing for me there." He explained, before the bright skies faded into solemn darkness. It seemed to be dark for hours. He held on to her the entire time, feeling an odd kind of security in her company.

    Finally a voice rang out in the darkness. "Two more, eh?..." It was a bit of a rough voice. Ose perked his ears to the direction of the sound, but still saw nothing. "Angels, were they? ... An Archangel, even? Ohohoh, finally we get some excitement. Get them up." The voice croaked out, and Ose felt his body being lifted by an unfamiliar force. He was seperated from the young girl, and they stood side to side, the foggy darkness eventually swirling away to give light to the world around them. It was a dreary looking riverbank. There was a simple wooden desk on the sand, a couple feet from the water. Behind it sat a man with wild white hair, and an equally wild face. He grinned at them. "You are... Archangel Ose Hallel, is that right? Served as a Templar in life... Ooh, a violent one, too. . . And you were an archangel for a short time, as well? That's exciting. I'll inform Asmodeus about you." He spoke quickly, and Ose had no idea what he was saying. That's when he addressed the girl. "And you? You are... the Angel Sariel. Lived a short life, mostly uneventful. . . Spent dozens of years in God's domain. How exciting. Got some controversy with the big guy in the sky, do you?"

    Ose didn't respond at first. This man seemed to have a... different demeanor to anyone Ose had ever known. To so casually refer to God as something as silly as that still unsettled Ose, given the recentness of his exile. The stumps of his wings still bled, and his fur had changed from it's lustrous silver to a dull yellow. He looked over to Sariel. He didn't even know her name. He'd been around her for years now, and he didn't even know her name. He paused, before stepping forward. "I am Ose Hallel; Knight of the Order of Templars. I was an Archangel for some years, before being cast aside from God's grace. This angel-... This girl, Sariel - was assigned to me, by God. She is mine." He explained plainly, looking at the old man, who just laughed.

    "Ah, yes yes. Ose Hallel, blah blah blah." He waved a hand dismissively, and leaned forward on his desk. He tapped a quill against the surface of his desk, and laid his chin on a hand. "I don't really care who you are, or what you did to piss off the old guy. We've got business to settle." He explained, tapping the paper on his desk. "I'm Charon. I'm the gatekeeper, of sorts. Through me, you'll pass the River Styx, and into Hell. But I need you to do a bit of paperwork, first." He beckoned the two over to the desk. There were two forms, one set for Ose, the other for Sariel.

    Ose was still a little bit unsettled by the way the man dismissed... Everything. He looked down at the paper, filled with clauses and reams of tiny text. Ose glanced at Charon, and cleared his throat. The old man grinned. "Oh, don't even worry about reading it. It's all crap anyway. Just go ahead and flip to the last page and gimme a scribble." He directed the two to the line at the bottom of the paper for a signature. "More or less you're going to say you'll abide by the rules set out by Bael, and you're going to report to Asmodeus upon the conclusion of your journey across the river to get your assignments." He explained in... very short detail. Ose earflicked slowly.

    "Very well," he replied, looking down at the paper hesitantly. He shook his head. It's not like there was anything else he could do. He signed the paper. Sariel had already done that well before him, standing up with a happy smile on her face as Charon reviewed the signatures, and filed the papers away in a cluttered cabinet behind him. It stood lopsided in the sand, and Charon grinned at the two.

    "Lookit that! You two are already on your way to becoming full-fledged Demons. Perfect!" He clapped his hands together, before standing up and wandering towards the river. As he approached, a tattered old boat drifted into view, stopping at the shore. Charon raised a hand towards it, and smiled at the two. Ose kind of stared at him, while Sariel carelessly climbed onto the boat. Charon rolled his eyes. "Well get on with it! I have other people waiting!" He explained wandering over to Ose and rushing him towards the boat. "Go, go. Christ almighty!" He seemed to use that last bit ironically, but Ose didn't even take offense anymore. Actually, the way Charon said it elicited a laugh from Ose. Sariel placed her hand on Ose's chest as the boat began it's journey, and Charon returned to his desk, grumbling the whole while. As they traveled further, they could hear Charon once more.

    "Son of a bitch! I forgot to charge them."
  6. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    V - Asmodeus Lo Vult
    Crossing the river wasn't a very relaxing experience. There was nothing the two could do to control the boat. It seemed almost mechanical, the way it lurched across the surface. Hell was nothing like Ose was told it was. He heard tales of fire, brimstone, magma, burning sulfur. Screams of agony, eternal torture. Demons with whips lashing the souls of the damned for all eternity. Actually, it didn't seem very dissimilar to Earth. The sky was, admittedly, dark and more or less eternally a dull ashen red, but there seemed to be fauna sprawling as far as the eye could see as they approached the far shore.

    Ose looked around, taking everything in. It was actually quite a serene sight. Sariel stood at his side, looking up at him with her usual smile, and he held onto her shoulder protectively. The girl he was so full of disdain to see in Heaven quickly became his only companion, and he found himself compelled to protect her. His long, golden tail curled around her waist as the boat reached the shore; and he helped her off of it, glancing around. He didn't exactly know where to go. Charon only told him he'd get him to Asmodeus. Ose stood on that shore as the boat drifted away, back in it's initial direction. As he waited with Sariel, a low voice called to him from the distance. He couldn't tell where exactly it came from, but before long a tall, bulky figure approached.

    It was a demon - that much was obvious - but Ose didn't reach for his swords. After all, he was technically a Demon now, too. He looked to Sariel, who simply stood with that same milky smile she always had. The demon finally reached them -- standing eight feet tall, and heavy set. He was wearing some vile looking iron armor, caked with dried blood and Rust, and he bowed to Ose. That action kind of took Ose by surprise, but he didn't have much time to mull on it, as he was addressed.

    "Lord Ose," the demon spoke, beckoning the two to follow as he did. "Asmodeus requests your presence in his palace." He explains, as he started to walk away. Without many other options, Ose and Sariel followed after him. The leopard growled a bit, keeping his wits about him as they traversed the flat plain. There was a large structure on the horizon, and a tall wall not far ahead of them. "He has high hopes for you, given your history." The demon continued, and after a few short minutes, they reached the gate. It opened with much protest, creaking and rattling and thunking obscenely, until it finally finished, and Ose was swept through with his only ally in tow.

    What he saw amazed him. It was a sprawling city, filled with all kinds of demon roaming and going through their days, just like on Earth. There were shops, merchants, markets, smithies... It was really quite breathtaking. This was the closest he's felt to home since he died. As they walked, many of the demon inhabitants made their way to see the Duke's new asset, chattering among themselves in a foreign tongue. Ose was brought to the base of a massive staircase, which lead up to the building he'd seen upon reaching shore. He looked to Sariel, and then to the demon who brought them there. That demon only grunted, and nodded up the stares. "Best not to keep him waiting, ne?"

    Ose nodded, and began to make his way up those stares with the girl at his side. It took almost as long to climb the hundreds of stairs as it did to get to the city in the first place. As they finally crested those stairs, they were met by a large gate - already opened, and leading in to a very elaborate chamber. At the end of the table sat a massive demon - covered in blood red bone, seated on a throne that rivaled God's. The demon had to have been at least fifteen feet in height, and he was imposing enough sitting down. Ose was glad he didn't have to meet him standing. He stepped hesitantly through the door with Sariel, and it slammed shut behind them. Asmodeus turned his dark eyes up towards the two, and extended an arm. His voice was ... terrifying. But Ose remained externally calm, and Sariel? She just had that same smile on her face as always.

    "The guests of honor arrive." Asmodeus growls, and the dozen demons around the table turned their heads towards Ose, all offering a polite bow. Asmodeus stood. And as Ose imagined, the figure of the demon standing was absolutely monstrous. Jagged skeletons cast a dark red, and mangled together like armor. Ose slowly regained composure, and nodded to them all.

    "I am Ose Hallel; Former Knight of the Order of the Templar, and Archangel at the right hand of God. I come to you here to pledge my alliance to you." He spoke. He wasn't sure where the words were coming from. He certainly didn't plan this. "I was disgusted with the lack of compassion exhibited by God and His defenders. Having lived my life in His service only to watch Him do nothing while everything I loved burned... I could not rightly stand by His side any longer. This is Sariel; She was my..." He hadn't thought of the word. What was she to him?... He shook his head, and cleared his throat. "I am here because I no longer agree with what my God was. I exist for two purposes. I will kill my former master, and I will bring judgment to their God." He said plainly, and the authority with which he spoke brought a laugh out of Asmodeus, and applause from the others in the room.

    Asmodeus sat once again, and pointed to the empty seat at the other end of the table. There was one for Sariel next to it. Ose wasted no time, not wanting to appear ungrateful as he seated himself at the table. There were candles burning, and a wide variety of food - most of it looked familiar, but there were some oddities, as well. Asmodeus leaned towards the table, and spoke. "You will get your chances for vengeance, Ose Hallel. I assure you of that. Every day our strength grows, and soon we will bring judgment to the world, and to the Heavens. Bael is pleased with your addition to our forces. Archangels are a rare treat for us. That is why Bael and I have decided that your presence here warrants a celebration. You have knowledge of God's defenses, as well as an impressive level of power about you. That is why I am granting you the title of Great President of Hell. You will join four other Great Presidents, and you will preside over the seven Presidents, as well as thirty legions of Bael's army. There is already a palace-city waiting for you to take over. It is a day's march east of here, but we will have you there by the end of the night. For now, relax, eat, drink. You will soon understand your role here in Hell."

    Ose listened intently as he was spoken to. To be given a title like that -- and an entire city to run? Not to mention an army of one-hundred fifty-thousand? Those numbers were almost unheard of on Earth. Even with all of this amazing information, Ose did his best to remain contained. He thought he should act as his role sounds; professional. And so as Asmodeus wrapped up his speech, Ose reached to set himself a plate, as well as one for Sariel, who had sat at his side and was listening intently, as well. Her hand remained on his thigh as he set the food in front of her. "Your offer is most gracious, Asmodeus. I will gladly accept. I look forward to whatever comes my way." He nodded. In the back of his mind, he wanted his vengeance. Now. But he knew it wouldn't come that easily, and so he would bide his time.

    All of it had come so suddenly to Ose. It was a bit hard to comprehend. In the course of a few minutes he went from being a stranger in a strange land, to being one of the few Great Presidents of Hell. The small amount of his situation that he did understand was that the only reason he was granted this was that he was an Archangel. And the only reason he was an Archangel was that he was a devoted member of the Templars. Everything he did in his life trickled down to this point. There was a lot to process, and it was made more difficult by the fury that still clouded Ose's mind. The betrayal of everything he had ever believed in, the pointless deaths of those who sacrificed so much for their belief... And the fact that he could do nothing about it.

    That is why Ose so willingly took on his new role in Hell. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that he was going to get revenge. He watched every one of the demons at the table, and then looked to Sariel, who sat at his side as she always seemed to. He was going to talk to her at length when they were finally alone. There was much he wanted to ask. The thoughts stirring in his mind were interrupted as Asmodeus' voice thundered through the room.

    "There is a lot for you to do, Ose, and not a lot of time to do it. I've arranged for a series of advisers to instruct you upon your arrival to your city. As soon as you're ready to leave, inform me, and then those two," He pointed towards a pair of guards near the door. "They'll escort you to your destination." He nodded, sitting up in his chair and staring down at Ose.

    He felt his own feline-ears flick, and nodded his understanding to Asmodeus. "Of course. I will just let Sariel eat; she seems to be quite hungry." He grunted, having only eaten a small amount himself. He had far too much on his mind to think about food. Sariel, on the other hand, had been picking at her plate pretty consistently, chewing at bits of the unusual food, and eating it all fearlessly. She seemed to be enjoying herself, too.

    For the next half hour, Sariel ate, and ate, and ate. Ose almost wondered how she could fit such an enormous capacity in such a small stature. But finally, she cleaned that plate, and pushed it back onto the table as far as she could reach, before looking up at Ose, smiling a bit more genuinely than usual.
    "We can go, now, Master." She spoke quietly, and Ose nodded. He stood, and offered a polite goodbye to the array of demons, making his way up towards Asmodeus, and bowing respectfully. "We will be on our way, then. I look forward to working with you." He looked up at Asmodeus, who nodded plainly.

    "I will be in touch."


    Ose approached the guards, and explained the situation to them. They seemed to know what they were to do already, and so they brought Ose and Sariel outside of the chamber, and back down the myriad steps. Through the city they marched, and Ose watched as the citizens clamored around. There was still dried blood on his back, as well as Sariel's, but the stream seemed to have stopped some time ago. As they made their way through the gates, the guards had already summoned a transport of sorts for them. It was a weird thing - similar to a chariot, drawn by demonic stallions, who seemed almost to be made of seaweed. Ose figured it was better not to ask questions as he was directed into the cart. He stood next to Sariel, holding on to her shoulder protectively as the vehicle began to move - at a fairly brisk pace, too. In no time at all, the city they had just left was but a speck on the horizon. The fields were lush with strange looking plants, workers tending to them and taskmasters watching vigilantly. There were guards posted every now and then along the roads, but aside from that, it was a quiet ride.

    After a couple hours, another city became visible on the horizon. The man steering the cart turned to Ose, and nodded. "This'll be you," he explained simply, before returning to his work. Ose straightened, and looked towards the approaching city. It wasn't nearly as big as the one he had recently been in, but it wasn't small, either. It had fairly high, smooth walls, with oddly styled peaks along them. The houses were similar. He'd never seen architecture like it, and he looked in awe as they pulled up to the gates. The cart's door opened, and Ose stepped off, with Sariel in tow. Without so much as a word, the vehicle took off back to it's original destination, and Ose watched until he couldn't see it anymore. He turned towards Sariel, and then to the gate.

    "Well... I guess we're home," he muttered, taking her in his arm and stepping towards the gate, which opened steadily as he approached.
  7. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    VI - Omnis Cedit Domum
    The city streets seemed to have a sprawling design. The walls curved around the city in what appeared to be a perfect circle. Ose had never seen anything like it. The homes were stilted -- several feet off of the ground. The rooftops of every house were tiled or thatched, and there didn't appear to be any conventional doors. Ose stared at every detail he could as he made his way down the streets -- only to find that the houses had what he could only imagine were false walls. He watched as someone stepped out, sliding the wall out of place, and then back into it's original position. All of this was very exciting to Ose - but he didn't have long to muse on it before he reached the center of the circular city. There was a tall, red monument at the base of the stairs; two large pillars, peaked with an unfamiliar design. Ose had no idea what it was, but he didn't get the time to ask, either. He was brought up the stairs, Sariel in his arm, to the top. An enormous pagoda lay before him, the sliding doors opened wide to accept the new master.

    It was then that the guards moving him stopped. He was left at his freedom with Sariel, and he slowly made his way up the last few steps, and into the house. The floors were made of a solid, dark wood, smooth boards spanning the entire length of the enormous room. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, sporting unfamiliar symbols made with heavy brush strokes. The walls were thin, and decorated elaborately. A low-sitting table was in the center of the room, surrounded not by chairs, but instead several firm cushions. Ose looked from side to side, taking in every aspect of the room, and looking to Sariel, who was walking through the room, smiling at the paintings.

    "It's beautiful," She said, giggling quietly in an innocent manner. Ose watched her. It was only then that he really took in the full impact of her beauty. She had waist-length silver hair, delicate golden eyes, and skin so fair it rivaled the finest porcelain. She was little - but the way she held herself gave her an air of maturity. Ose kept watching her as she danced throughout the room, enthralled in her new surroundings. Her plain white dress was stained so heavily with her blood and his, putting a pit in the bottom of Ose's stomach.

    He stepped up to her, and placed a hand on her cheek, tilting her head up so that she could see the look on his face. There was pain in his eyes, and a solemn, sad tone in his voice as he spoke. "Sariel... I wish to clean the blood from your back. It does not befit such a lovely body, to be stained with such filth." He paused, taking a deep breath as he looked back at the door they'd entered. Sariel smiled up at him, that same milky smile as always.

    "If it is your blood and mine, Master, then it is not filth, but the most intricate beauty." She replied, placing her soft, small hand on his. The warmth that her palm surrounded him with was dumbfounding. Ose stood silently before her, before shaking his head.

    "Still.." He paused, trying to form words. He couldn't do it, and he shook his head again. Sariel smiled as he did, and stepped closer.

    "I understand, Master. I will go with you." She nodded slowly, and took his hand with both of hers. Ose didn't really know his way around this new home, so he checked a couple doors for exactly what might be on the other side. After the third one, he found what he assumed to be a bathing area. It wasn't roofed off - and instead looked up at the clear sky, with the high walls and tiled roofs on all sides. Ose traveled with Sariel through the area, low red fences surrounding steaming pools of crystal-clear water. There were birds singing - songs Ose had never heard in his life. They were beautiful. As they walked, they came to the center of the room, where the fences surrounding the water opened up. There were towels set aside already, as well as soaps and oils along the edges of the water. Ose smiled at Sariel, and looked down at her.

    "I am glad to have you here, with me. I may not have been fair to you in Heaven, but I understand much more now than I did then." Even though it had only been a couple hours since their fall, Ose felt infinitely more comfortable with Sariel. It was an emotional thing to go through with another person. It took Ose a few minutes to break out of the clouds in his mind, but he smiled down at her. He turned away from her, the blood from the torn wings on his spine still staining his fur. He lifted the codpiece off, and set it down on the ground next to the towels, setting his swords down as well. Turning to face her, the naked feline took a step towards her, and brushed her cheek. "...I haven't taken a hot bath in so long," he joked, breaking into a bit of an uncomfortable laugh, joined by her sweet, ringing one. She leaned into his hand softly, before looking at the water, and taking a step back. She began to lift her thin dress off, slowing down as it approached her upper back, breaking some of that dried blood that stuck to it, and causing a few fresh streaks to soak down her skin. She had a look of discomfort on her face, and let out quiet noises as the pain was rekindled.

    Ose held her as she removed the dress. He felt every twinge of pain that she was experiencing, and he did his best to calm her down as she worked through it. Finally her dress came over her head, and she folded the ruined fabric, and set it beside Ose's equipment. The two stood for some time, simply looking into one another's eyes, before Ose took the first step into the water. It was perfectly hot, and he seemed to relax as soon as his flesh touched it. He stepped in further, the water up to his thighs, as he turned towards her, to help her in. She had a few tears streaming down her cheeks, but her face still had that smile... And she followed Ose's direction, stepping into the water, the blood running down her back and distending in the water as it rolled down her body. The thigh-deep water for Ose was waist-deep for Sariel. He turned to face her, smiling at her. Her skin beneath the dress was just as perfect as he had thought it would be. Smooth, pale white, and completely unblemished. He hadn't developed much, but she still carried an air of adulthood about her.

    He stepped away from her, lifting a small, elaborate jar of oil, and returning to her, pulling the gemstone cap off of it, and pouring a generous amount into his palm. He knelt down to better match her height, the first bit of his waist beneath the surface of the water as he placed his hands on her shoulders, stroking the soft skin, lathering the oil around on her skin. He ran his hands down the lengths of her arms, and back up - down over her chest, the small, delicate breasts, and over her stomach. She was giggling quietly the entire time, a bright pink blush glossing over her pale cheeks. He stopped when his hands met the water, leaving her upper body shining brightly in the natural light. He withdrew his hands, and nodded. "Turn around... I must get the blood off of your skin." He waited for her compliance, watching her smooth body. She obliged, turning to face away from him, the blush on her face still glowing brightly. He looked at her back. Aside from the torn flesh and blood, it was just as delicate as her front was. She had soft curves, smooth skin, and a brilliant radiance.

    He reached for a cloth, and soaked it in the hot water, before gently brushing around the sensitive stumps of her wings, beginning to clean the blood from her skin slowly. He took great care around that broken flesh, avoiding it until he could get the rest of her clean. He stroked down her back firmly, removing the fresh and dried blood, soaking the cloth to get it clean once again. It took quite a while for him to finally get her back clean, but once he had, her skin shimmered in it's natural beauty once more. He did his best to clean the wound, and set the blood-drenched cloth to the side. "I will apply bandages when we finish here." He smiled at her, stroking down her small body gently. She turned her head to him, and nodded.

    "We're not done yet, though." She interjected. Turning to face him, she had a sweeter smile on her face than Ose had ever seen. He found himself slightly taken aback from the loving gaze she aimed at him, and she spoke again, slowly. "I have to clean you, too... It's only fair, Master." She explained, and waited for his compliance now. Ose paused, and lowered his head. He felt an inexplicable shame as he turned to expose his wounds to her. His were slightly larger, given his frame. The flesh was wickedly torn down his upper back, the fur caked with dark blood. His ears flattened against his skull as she retrieved a clean cloth, and began to repeat his process on him. He stifled the pain completely. He didn't want to appear weak to her - not after it felt like it was his job to protect her. He flexed every muscle in his body as she cleaned his fur of his blood, his tail remaining still under the water.

    After a painstakingly long time, She was satisfied with the job she had done. She set the bloody cloth with her own, and looked up at him, before gently tracing the wounds on his back with a delicate hand. Ose cringed - not from the pain, but from the intimacy of the moment. Never in his life did he have someone care for him like she had in the past hour. He let out a low exhale, and turned to face her once more, stroking her face. For a long moment, he simply stared. Finally, he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. It was an awkward thing -- he'd never really kissed anyone in life, and now with this form, he had a new thing to get used to. It was a little bit awkward, but he held the kiss for some time, Sariel blushing even more brightly before the moment finally came to an end.

    Ose stood, and straightened up in front of her, smiling. "Come. Let us get you bandaged."
  8. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    VII - Tempus Omnia Vulnera Sanat

    The oiled bandages laid in a neat pile next to the table. Ose had seated himself behind Sariel, so that he could reach her better. The light from the paper lanterns was bright enough to work, and he smiled at her as he lifted the first strand of bandages. The blood had stopped flowing, so it was an easier process. He placed the bandage around her. It was similar to what they used on the battlefield, though it had much more tensile strength. He looked it around her chest, and then picked up another strand, repeating the process. After several minutes, he had applied six rows of bandages, and he began to go over them another layer. Once he was satisfied that her wound was well protected, he rinsed his hands in a jug of clean water, and dried them. She turned towards him, and smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Master Ose." She offered, before he lifted a small white dress to her. It was slightly more elaborate than her old one, and significantly cleaner. He helped her to put it on, taking care to avoid the sensitive upper back.

    Once she was dressed, she smiled brighter than ever. The fluid coating the bandage was a sort of salve, and it seemed to relax the tensity of her muscles and numb the pain in her shoulder blades. She placed a palm on Ose's chest, holding it for a moment, before smiling. "Do you not want bandages, Ose?" She asked softly, and looked at him with concern.

    Ose shook his head. "My pain is minute. I will heal. I only wanted you to be comfortable." He explained, before standing with her, and petting her head. He had long since replaced that codpiece he wore, the shining metal seeming only more brilliant in contrast to his now darker fur. He looked over his shoulder at the bloody stumps where his wings were, and frowned slightly at them, but shook it off fairly quickly. He stepped around his seat with Sariel, and began to clean up the medical supplies.

    It was then that Ose remembered everything that happened that night. He was so caught up in tending to Sariel that he didn't even think about the fact that Asmodeus had sent a series of people over to assist Ose in his new work. He paused, and looked to Sariel. "That seat," he pointed to the large wooden chair behind an equally large desk. "That's where I'm to sit when I work. I suppose you're supposed to stand at my side. If you would, open the door. I'm sure that Asmodeus' assistants will be waiting." He explained, before kissing her forehead, and making his way to that chair. He sat, but didn't lean back. His back was still sore, and he didn't want to appear weak in any sense to these new people.

    And just like Ose predicted; as Sariel opened the door, there were a group of demons. Four of them, Ose counted. They were all varying levels of disturbing. Ose had to maintain his composure, though, given his new position. As they filed in, Sariel returned to Ose's side, clasping her hands in front of her, and smiling sweetly at him. Ose straightened his back as they approached, and presented him with several books. They were all titled in a foreign language, and thicker than the bible. He glanced at them with a bit of a look on his face, before being addressed by the first of the demons; a lizard-looking thing of fairly small stature, clutching to a thin spear. "For the first order of business, Ose, I am Belial. I am a translator, of sorts. I am here to teach you demontongue, so that you might converse in the universal language here in Hell. It's a lot to learn and it's a process, but I am the finest teacher. I will have you fluent in a matter of days." The reptile bowed respectfully to Ose, before stepping back, and letting the next in line to speak.

    This one was significantly larger. Intimidating, even. Ose showed no sign of weakness, as the beast spoke. There were several swords and arrows lodged through his chest and arms. The wounds seemed almost like accolades as he spoke in a rough voice. "I am Lham Dearg. I am to teach you how to handle your legions. It is no small feat to command nearly a quarter of a million soldiers, while also balancing the well being of your city. Trust in me, for I will bring you to glory." The man stepped back, matching Belial's behavior. Ose listened intently glancing to Sariel, who had taken it upon herself to write small notes of the situation as each demon introduced themselves.

    Next, a demon stepped forward. In contrast to the first two, she was quite beautiful. Ose's eyes trailed up her body. She wore tight-fitting white clothes, that appeared to be hand stitched. "I am Clotho. I am a tailor. I weave clothing and tan leathers to provide for the city. I am also a member of your council. I have been sent to you to provide you with a new outfit, fitting of your position. I will also provide Sariel with something, if it pleases you. Speak to me whenever you wish to discuss it." She curtsied politely, and stepped back in line as well.

    Finally, the last in line stepped forward. She stood before him - the left half of her body was much like Sariel's; pale, smooth white skin. Slender form, beautiful golden hair. It was contrasted immediately by the right half, which was covered in hard, crimson scales. Black, flowing hair, and a powerful wing. A long red tail curled around her waist, and she spoke in a split voice, gentle, and also stern. "I am Vouivre. I will be here to advise you on your handling of public situations. There is much to discuss, but we understand it is late. If you wish to retire for the night, we will return to your presence whenever you request us." She explained simply, bowing her head and returning to the line with the other three. Ose glanced at the books they had brought him, one from each. He looked over them all, and nodded.

    "I do appreciate all of you arriving so promptly - but as Vouivre had stated," He paused, and looked at her. "I wish to spend the night with Sariel alone. It has been a long enough day. I will get ahold of you all when I need you." He nodded to them, standing behind his desk. "For now, you are all dismissed. I wish you all a good night." With that, they began to move towards the door. He thought as they were walking away, before grunting. "Actually. Clotho, was it? Come here for a moment." The young woman turned, and smiled as she stepped up to Ose. She was only just over five feet, so she had to look up to see his face.

    "Yes, Master Ose?" She asked, hands clasped politely in front of her. She reminded him of Sariel.

    "I would like a cloak, of some kind." He explained, looking down towards Sariel, who was out of earshot. "I want something heavy that can hold my swords, and conceal the wounds on my back." He explained, and she nodded understandingly.

    "Very well, Master Ose. I will come to you with something tomorrow." With that, she turned to leave with the rest of the demons, and she closed the door behind them. This left Ose alone with Sariel, who turned to walk up to him, smiling.

    "Let us retire to bed, Master Ose... I am so weary." She spoke softly, and Ose nodded in agreement. He took her by the hand, and walked towards the room he'd seen the bed in previously. He slid open the door, and then closed it behind them. Sariel crawled into the large bed, and slid beneath the sheets. Ose followed suit, setting his codpiece aside as he made himself comfortable, and let his eyes slip shut.
  9. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    VIII - Simplex Vita

    The night didn't last long enough for Ose. He stirred in his sleep. Dreams haunted him. The images of Solomon's betrayal were still fresh in his mind -- the blood on that man's hands could never be cleaned. There was only one way for him to atone for what he'd done, and Ose was going to make sure that justice was done. Ose awakened early - and to his surprise, Sariel was nowhere to be seen. He glanced around the large room, rolling onto his back and grunting as those still-sore stumps pressed into the bed. With an uneasy grunt, he leaned up, and slid off of the bed. He left his swords and his codpiece in their place, and made his way to the sliding door, stepping through it and closing it behind him. The main chamber was empty. Two voices were heard in the next room over. One he recognized as Sariel, and the other was a vaguely familiar female.

    Ose made his way towards the room from which the voices emanated, and looked inside. Clotho was standing with Sariel, who wore a new dress. It was far more elaborate than the simple gown she'd worn the day before. It was weaved of a heavier fabric, and inlaid with threads of gold and silver. The ivory-white dress flowed to her knees, and she wore two thin white socks that rose to her thighs. She looked even more angelic than she did when she was an angel. Ose smiled slightly as he approached, the young girl smiling towards him as she caught sight of him. "Master Ose!" She called to him, bowing her head. "Clotho has brought us some clothing to wear, sir." She seemed quite excited, and hadn't even really noticed Ose's nudity.

    Clotho bowed her head briefly, a small blush creeping onto her face as she looked over the nakedness of her new Lord. "Yes. Hello, Master Ose; I have finished your request, and I took the liberty of providing your companion here with a few dresses of her own." She nodded, and turned away from Ose, making her way out of the room through a door in the back. She returned moments later carrying a fairly large package, setting it on a nearby table, and lifting the enormous green cloak. It was a heavy, tanned leather of some sort. Ose didn't recognize what creature it could have come from, but it was inlaid with strands of splendid gold. He traced his fingers over the elaborate pattern. It was, in fact, real gold. There was a golden zipper along the neck, and he smiled as he took in the whole of it.
    "Turn around please, Master." Clotho requested.

    Ose obliged; he turned to face away from her, those gruesome, scarring stumps on display. He didn't feel particularly proud of them. This is the exact reason he requested a cloak. Without so much as pausing to look at his wounds, she stepped up onto a small stool to reach, and secured the cloak around his neck and shoulders, stepping around to do up the zipper. Once she did, she stepped back to look at how it fit. Tall sides of that cloak covered the entirety of his neck, and followed perfectly along his jawline. The sides of the cloak draped over his shoulders, and flowed wonderfully down his back. The very edges of that cloak just barely touched the floor. It was perfect. Clotho smiled at her work, and clapped her hands together, eliciting a smile from Ose. "There is one more thing, Master Ose." She continued, returning to the table. Ose turned to follow her, as she lifted an enormous metal object. It was similar to his old codpiece, albeit significantly more angular, and far more ornate. She hefted the massive plate forward, and rested it on his loins, adjusting it until it stayed in place with a strange sort of enchantment.

    Strangely, once it locked in place like that, it seemed to lose all it's weight. It was still solid, and he could tell it was there, but it didn't encumber him at all. The cloak, on the other hand, was a massive weight. He adjusted, getting used to it. All that mattered to him was that it covered his wounds. He grinned at his new accommodations, and nodded to Clotho. "This is perfect. Thank you." He bowed his head politely, before she gave an excited gasp.

    "That's right! There's actually another thing..." She scratched the back of her head, looking slightly befuddled. Ose tilted his head, glancing between Clotho and Sariel, as the tailor ran off, back to the same door. She came back in, carrying two large swords. She seemed to be quite strong, even despite her frame. The swords were significantly longer than his old ones, golden ends on the pommel, and long, ridged green handles. They matched in length, their scabbards adorned with delicate golden text. Words Ose couldn't understand, written in demontongue. He watched as she presented them to him. "There are two straits in your cloak in which to fit these," she explained. "If you would kneel, please?" She asked respectfully, and Ose complied. He knelt down, lowering his head to allow her to fit the scabbards into place. After a few moments, Ose felt that new weight on his back, and Clotho stepped back, smiling. Ose stood as well, presenting a new, far more imposing figure. He stood, eight and a half feet, those two swords extending another foot behind his back. The ruff of his cloak covered the entirety of his long neck, and hugged around the base of his skull. It flowed in a wide area behind him, and the new codpiece glimmered a reddish-gold.

    Sariel gasped quietly as she admired him, her cheeks lit up in a blush as she threw herself into Clotho in a hug. "Master looks even more splendid thanks to you, Clotho. You did a wonderful job," she explained, eventually letting go to step up to her Master's side. Ose bows politely to Clotho, and smiles.

    "Yes, this is sufficient. I appreciate your dedication, Clotho." He straightened up again, and Clotho curtsied politely.

    "I am happy to serve you, Master Ose." She looked up to him, and then smiled again. "If you will permit me, I must take my leave. I have many orders to fulfill." She explained, and Ose nodded to her. On her way out, she looked at Ose over her shoulder. "Belial will be returning to you soon. You must learn our language quickly. Surely you will understand." She smiled, before taking her leave, and letting Ose get accustomed to his new equipment.

    Ose took Sariel under his arm, and returned to the main room of their new palace. He looked around, taking in every breathtaking detail of the place that was now their home. "So much has changed in so little time, Sariel. I cannot thank you enough for undergoing all of this with me... I could not have done it alone and maintained my sanity." He looked at her, the seriousness of his face punctuating his sentence for him. Ose shook his head, and gave her a fairly unconvincing smile. "But I suppose all that matters is that we have a set goal now. I feel far more at home here than I did in Heaven. Still... I have only one goal; I am going to visit the pain that Solomon gave me upon him a hundredfold."

    Sariel nodded. She understood that it was something Ose had to do. She didn't question him at all. After watching the pain in his face as his whole life was destroyed at Solomon's hands, Sariel spoke calmly. "I will be at your side through it all, Master Ose. I will bear witness to your vengeance." She nodded firmly as she finished, hugging against his leg slightly. He laid his hand atop her head, and nodded.

    "And I will be happy to have you there." He replied, taking his seat in front of his desk, with Sariel at his side. He glanced at the books he had been brought the previous day, and ran his hand over the odd symbols. He had no understanding of any of them, but he hoped that Belial would arrive soon to teach him.

    No sooner had Ose thought that, than the door opened. The small lizard wandered into the building nonchalantly, and stepped up to Ose's desk with a slightly lopsided grin. He bowed his head, eventually. "Greetings, Ose! I am here to teach you our language, more recently referred to as Enochian. What it's called isn't particularly important. All that matters is that we get you learned, so that you can converse with your citizens and your army, yes? So, let's waste no time." He shuffled over towards Ose's side of the desk, grabbing the book he'd brought earlier, and cracking it open next to Ose, in front of Sariel.

    The lessons would take some time.
  10. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    IX - Una Lingua Numquam Satis Est
    A week had passed. A week of little sleep, and even less privacy. Ose had been constantly surrounded by Belial, the wise, albeit annoying reptile explaining the ins and outs of Enochian to him. Ose learned a lot. He had to give credit to Belial. He learned the language, he learned of many other demons, of cities that sprawled throughout Hell. He learned Asmodeus' history, the origins of the world around him. He learned about everything that made Hell what it was. Finally, though, it was the last day of all of these impromptu lessons.

    "I trust that your education was satisfactory, Ose?" Belial asked, in Enochian. Ose paused as he dug through the mess of his mind. Finally, he responded in kind.

    "It was efficient, Belial. I am glad to have received your knowledge." He scrunched his face up a bit, waiting for Belial to reply. The lizard simply laughed, and nodded firmly.

    "You will do just fine, Ose. Which is good. I took the liberty of gathering most of your citizens at the base of your palace. You'd best go and introduce yourself - these are the people who keep your city running." He nodded, before excusing himself almost immediately, leaving Ose with a bit of a pit in his stomach, before he felt the soft touch of Sariel's hand on his shoulder. He looked up to her, and gave a bit of an unsure smile. He stood up, and grunted slightly.

    "I suppose I should take care of this mess, then." He stated plainly, clearing his mind for a second, and then standing tall. He did his best to put on a solid facade, smiling to Sariel. "You will come with me, of course." He instructed, and he made his way to the front door. The girl followed close behind him, hands clasped in front of her as she did. Ose made his way to the door, and slid it open. He stepped down the initial few steps, and then made his way down the long mountain of stairs that lead to the streets below. There was a stage of sorts set up, and myriad people surrounding it. Ose approached, and stepped up onto the stage, with Sariel at his side. He cleared his throat, and stood tall, waiting for silence.

    It came fairly suddenly. The commotion died completely as Ose took his place on the stage, and all eyes were on him. He scanned the crowd, before clearing his throat, and speaking with a feigned confidence in his newly learned tongue.

    "My people; I come before you today as a new citizen of Hell. It feels foreign to me to command such a position as this. In life I didn't even have a home. I couldn't, by order, own property. In Heaven I was given a home. One that was larger than I could use. I was left to my own devices. I spoke no more than one hundred words in my entire time there. And then I came here. I was made your President. I was given not just a home, but an entire city. I was tasked with keeping this city safe. I was tasked with strengthening Bael's army. I was promised my revenge. I come to you today not to ask for your help, but to assure you of one thing; I will not falter. My resolve is unbreakable. My determination is concrete. My devotion is not only to you, but to everyone. To all of those who suffered, who starved, who died in the name of 'God'. I give my word, I will not stop until all of His paradise is but ashes raining from the skies. I will burn from history all traces of this God, and all those who put their faith in Him!"

    The speech was met with a plethora of applause and cheers. Ose stood tall on his stage, eyes once again panning the enormous crowd before him. The fact that they listened so silently and responded so powerfully made his false confidence become real. He raised a fist into the air, and eventually opened the hand, dismissing himself from the crowd and making his way back up to his temple, Sariel following closely behind him.

    Ose made his way back into the temple, sliding the door shut behind Sariel, and turning to face her, letting out a long exhale. "Well, that went... Okay, I guess." He grinned at her, and she stepped up to touch his chest with both small hands.
    "You did excellently, my Master. You were very well conducted." She confirmed, giving him a loose hug, which he returned. He glanced at his desk, and shook his head.

    "I should like to take a bath, Sariel." He said, stepping past her, and she once again followed him into the onsen. They made their way to the pool where they'd bathed the day before. Through mechanisms Ose didn't understand, the blood that tainted the water was cleaned away completely. He lifted his cloak off - the entire thing weighing roughly two hundred pounds - and set it down neatly on the ground, removing his codpiece and setting it down as well. Sariel disrobed as well, and the two stepped into the water together. Ose stretched, and let out a bit of a groan, before turning to Sariel, smiling at her naked body. He knelt down again, and pressed his forehead gently against hers, pausing for a moment. He leaned back, only to be interrupted by Sariel, who reached up while she could, and gripped the back of his head. She pulled him down, and placed a kiss against his lips - the short fur of the feline's muzzle tickling her skin. She giggled quietly during the kiss, hooking her arms around his shoulders. Ose, taken aback by this action, grunted uneasily, and fought to maintain balance. He slowly moved his hands to her hips, holding her securely as he returned her intimate kiss. It dragged on for quite some time... The sounds of the world fading into irrelevance as they held one another. Finally, Sariel leaned back from the kiss, a burning blush on her face as she struggled to correct herself.

    "P-Please forgive me, Master Ose..." She mumbled unevenly, looking down at herself, ashamed. Ose shook his head, and stroked her cheek softly, smiling at her.

    "There is nothing to forgive." He stated, before standing up, and stroking her hair. The two bathed one another as they had a few times before, only it was a much more happy, intimate situation than previously.

    Ose smiled at Sariel as they bathed, and he paused. This girl was the only thing he really knew anymore. She'd been at his side in Heaven, and she'd been at his side in Hell. Through all of these developments, she was the only thing that never changed. He was so used to speaking in their normal language to each other. As he stared at her, he cleared his throat. He opened his mouth, and spoke softly towards her, in Enochian. "I love you, my world."

    Sariel replied, in English. "And I love you, my stars."
  11. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    X - Cavea

    Three years had passed since the day of the speech. Ose had spent the duration of time within the walls of his city. He had become close friends with Clotho. He had met his ranks with Lham Dearg. He had handled several incidents between disgruntled citizens with the help of Vouivre. He'd become closer to his people as a whole through the combined actions of all of them. The people were comfortable with Ose, and Ose with them. This morning, Ose was woken from his sleep by a heavy hand on his door. He slid free from his bed, leaving Sariel to rest as he opened the door. To his surprise, Asmodeus stood in the center of the room. One of his guards had come to wake Ose. He closed the door again, and quickly threw on his attire, before stepping out before Asmodeus, and offering a bow.

    Asmodeus returned a dismissive wave, and grinned at Ose. "Stand, Ose Hallel, Great President of Hell. For today I bring you good news. Your desire for revenge? The means to fulfill it are close at hand. Bael has taken it upon himself to help you flourish in Hell. He has, in fact, established a means for you to return to the mortal plane, to exact that vengeance. Understand that this is not an act of kindness. You will be forever indebted to Bael. In performing this act, you are signing a contract. You will have your revenge, but you will never raise a finger against our High King. You will remain in your position as Great President, and you will continue to keep watch over this city. When the time comes to march upon the Heavens, you will join us on the front lines as we bring devastation to God." Asmodeus finally concluded his speech, and waited for Ose's reply.

    Ose nodded simply. "I understand. I had no intention of disloyalty. I am happy where I am, and I would like to maintain this position. If I am being given a chance to exact revenge upon Solomon, I will take it with grace. This place is mine. These people are mine. I care more for them than I cared for anything in life. You have my word, Asmodeus, as Great President, that I will never betray you. I vow to you here that my blade arm is yours." He knelt before Asmodeus, and looked up at the demon, who nodded firmly. There was nothing more to be said.

    "Bael will send an emissary. You, Sariel, and she will travel to the mortal world. When your duty is finished, she will see to it that you are returned here immediately. You can spend only a short time on the mortal world, so I suggest that once you arrive, you find and complete your objective swiftly. Do it well, Ose. You get only one chance." Asmodeus turned as he finished speaking, and left - with his guards - without one further word.

    As Asmodeus left, Ose felt nothing but overwhelming happiness. He felt something he'd never felt before. It was a different happiness than what he felt with Sariel the night before. He would finally destroy the one who destroyed him. Who destroyed everything. It was finally going to happen. Ose didn't even know how he would do it. He had dozens of ideas. None of them seemed to be enough. Sariel stepped out into the room, and watched Ose curiously, who had still not stood up. She walked over to him, and pressed her hand to his shoulders, looking at his face. "Ah... Good news, Master Ose?" She asked, and he looked up at her, still grinning.

    "Solomon will die." He stated simply, standing up next to her, and adjusting his cloak. "And I will kill him." He concluded, and Sariel seemed to smile at him with that milky smile she always used to have.

    "Good," she replied simply, and hugged against his side. "It is far past his time." She stroked his leg, and he returned the touch to her hair. Slowly, he returned to his desk, with her at his side. It was now a waiting game. Ose wanted to go now.

    Several nerve-wracking hours passed, before finally the door to Ose's palace slid open. Into the room stepped a girl, dressed in heavy chainmail and carrying an ornate torch. She approached briskly, and smiled. "I am Brigid. I have come to bring you to the mortal world. I understand that you have a mission there." Her voice was serene, and her tone sincere. Ose stood, and stepped around his desk towards her, Sariel following after.

    "Brigid. I am pleased that you have arrived. I have waited years for this moment," Ose admitted, bowing his head respectfully. "I should like the chance to go back with you now, to bring to this snake justice."

    It would not be a quick task by any stretch of the imagination. Both the ritual involved to return to Earth, and the elimination of Ose's target - But Ose had waited for years for this opportunity. He turned his attention to Sariel, and tipped her chin upward. "You must stay here, my dear. You are too precious."

    Of course, the girl protested, but Ose made his point clear, and without needing to say another word, she surrendered her position and took his seat behind his desk. Ose turned his attention to Brigid once more, and straightened up. "Then we leave at once." He nods, and she agrees.

    The ritual went smoothly - Brigid having a conduit to Earth through a summoner - which allowed Ose a fairly painless trip across the veil. It did take time - and of course, the flow of time was different - but Ose definitely recognized the world around him, upon coming to his senses. When he got ahold of himself, he was alone. Brigid was nowhere to be seen, nor her summoner, nor any evidence of the ritual. It wasn't quite dark yet. Enough light streaked through the trees for a human to see - And Ose certainly wasn't human. His feline eyes did a wonderful job of illuminating the darkness, and he gave a small grunt as he stretched, before reaching back to ensure his swords were still in their place - and of course, they were.

    Then it was time. Ose came here alone, and it was now his goal to kill one of the most guarded soldiers in the known world. But this was a war that they did not want, and one they could not win.
    Ose knew this.

    He moved through the dense forest, devoid of life entirely. No small creatures, no deer. Not even any insects, that Ose could see. He reached the edge of the woods, where, on the horizon, he could see a faint glow along the darker skyline. It was an obvious orange tint, and Ose recognized it to be the glow of a village ablaze. He had seen it enough in his life - and he knew exactly what was the cause. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he died, but it had been a long time. He began to make his way towards the beacon in the distance, adjusting his heavy cloak, and taking long, deliberate strides - not concerned with being seen or being attacked. His mission was the only thing on his mind, and he played it through in his head - exactly how it was going to finish, and that thought kept him going.

    It took him a few minutes to crest the hill between him and the village, but as he reached the peak, he looked down upon the scene - and it was just as he remembered it being. The screaming, the death, the blood. The stench of it all. People were a filthy thing at the best of time, let alone when they are angry, desperate, afraid. The raiding party wasn't massive. Solomon wouldn't be among them - but they would know where he is. This would be an excellent chance to get back into the swing of things.

    Ose drew his swords, giving each a small flick before making his way down the hill in a slow, deliberate motion. He wasn't going to hide himself. He took a count of the men in the village. There appeared to be no more than thirty Templars, and the remaining villagers alive was easily less than ten. Still, there was no knowing whether the villagers would go to the first available distraction for safety, or if they would try to kill the demon, as well. Ose had no quarrel with them, but he would not let them, or anyone, stand in his way.

    Finally, as he drew closer, one of the soldiers seemed to notice him. However, the sun had sank deeper into the sky, and as a result, his response wasn't very fast. He noticed movement, so he reached for a torch as he moved towards Ose's silhouette, sword drawn in his other hand.

    Ose grinned as the man approached. He knew he couldn't easily be seen, but the demon's own anatomy was still working just fine - and he could see clearly, as though it was day. Before the man could respond, Ose bounded forward, and gripped his throat with a powerful claw, dragging him off of the ground and squeezing quite firmly. "Your time has come to an end. You, and all those like you." He continued to squeeze, the sharp claws digging into the thin flesh of the throat, tearing into the man's windpipe with little effort. Blood trickled down Ose's arm, matting the golden fur with a dull red tint. It bubbled out of the man's mouth and ran down his chin. Ose dropped the solider to the ground, stepping heavily on the center of his chest, cracking several ribs under his weight. Any attempts to scream resulted only in muffled gurgling as blood clogged up the open windpipe - and Ose left him there to die in the darkness.

    One down. The rest would not be so easy. Ose wasn't here for easy. He only needed one to be alive. He stood in the center of town, as the houses burned around him. Before long, one of the soldiers took note, and called orders to the rest.

    "A demon! An actual demon, in the flesh! To arms, brothers! We slay this beast in the name of God!"

    Ose just grinned. Actually, he laughed. The humans still believe everything they're told. What a simple existence it must be. But this was the end for them. Swords in hand, he stands before the group. There was indeed about thirty of them. They stood behind their shields, some of their younger members visibly afraid of such a confrontation - even their veterans looked wary. Encounters with actual demons were more or less unheard of. The fires surrounding them cast a bronze glow across Ose's powerful body, and the light glimmered off of his sharp teeth. There was a palpable tension in the air, but Ose looked as calm as ever.

    "Charge!" Shouted the one, who seemed to be their commander. On his order, or close after, the group pushed forward, attempting to overpower the demon before he could respond.

    Ose, however, had other plans. He turned his attention to the closest of the group, the leader of the charge. Their shields were not prepared to deal with the hellish or the divine. Mere wood would not save them. Ose lifted his left hand, and drove the sword into the shield. The wood immediately caught flame and burned rapidly, and the sword continued to pierce, directly into the soldier's skull. Without so much as a moment to recover, Ose began an elaborate dance with this small army, swinging freely amidst the chaos, avoiding the swords and the axes and the clubs with an elegant perfection. One by one these assailants fell, until Ose was left with only one - who was clearly quite new to the Templars. He had dropped his sword and turned tail.

    Ose couldn't let him escape. He would bring the news to the rest of the Templars and he would never get to Solomon. He still felt a connection to Hell, to all of the demons in his command. It raised a level of curiosity. He knew he would have no trouble catching up to the person on foot, but he needed the Templar afraid. Ose stood, drenched in blood, and closed his eyes, chanting quietly.

    Within moments, the earth around the last remaining witness trembled, and a thick wall of solid red bone jutted up from the earth, surrounding him completely. Ose grinned. Asmodeus was indeed present, and all to happy to menace Templars. The feline approached the cage slowly, and paced around it, growling quietly.

    "...You," He stopped in his place, looking up at the man, who was trembling, and weeping, and it smelled as though he'd pissed himself.

    "You will tell me where the Templar Solomon is."
    Last edited: Jun 18, 2018 at 1:45 AM
  12. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    Last edited: Jun 18, 2018 at 1:46 AM
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    Comment away

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  17. Giygas My Penis Can Pull Down Panties. [__________] Writer

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    I guess I'm kind of trying to get into writing again, maybe

    Don't hold your breath
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