Kis: Lords of Fire - 27th ET - Iosif.

[Dartimos Hammer]

Cieralien rolled her amber eyes in disgust as she wiped the blood off her blade, using the filthy edge of her victim's rags. How did the overwhelming stench of the alley not drive this fool away, she thought idly, not overly concerned with the answer. Stupid animals.

Satisfied the folded steel of her sabre was cleansed, Ciera sheathed the weapon with a flourish that allowed some of the eerie phosphorescence of her costume to show beneath her dull grey cloak. The swirling fabric settled quickly enough, but there were no more cattle in the alley to observe the scene anyway. And if there were, they would suffer the same fate, the adhiel murderer thought with a satisfying candor.

They were clustered close together, despite the generous distance between the dilapidated buildings that formed the walls of the alley. Figures cloaked in similar fashion to Ciera, each standing next to their silent black mounts, awaiting the coming mark with savage anticipation. Nestled in the heart of the Peasant District, a poor district even by those standards, it had been surprisingly simple to gather unnoticed. Except for Ciera's prey, of course, but that one was of little consequence. They all were, really. Now she and her followers were nearly ready to begin the ride and deliver their justice to the lowing masses, retribution for the unprovoked attack on an adhiel maiden.

Giving the signal, Ciera leapt upon her horse and shrugged off her cloak. The full measure of her costume became apparent, a demonic depiction of black leather traced in reddish phosphorescence that glowed like a torturer's fires. With her free hand she ripped away the covering on her mount's head, revealing the phosphor that turned her mundane horse into a creature of nightmare. As her final accoutrement, she pulled free from her belt the masked hood that would cover her head with a terrifying, glowing visage. As the silken cloth settled over her head Ciera felt the thrill of anonymity course through her, just as she did every time the Firelords rode. A nameless demon was free to strike without fear, and carry through on the deeds that weaker hearts could barely contemplate. A throaty chuckle emanated from Ciera, unbidden but relished all the same.

She looked back over her shoulder and smiled cruelly at the sight that awaited her, a whole band of demons eager to follow. With a gesture she set them to lighting their incendiary flasks, ready for the first charge. While the last few completed the task, Ciera took a last glance up into the night's sky, where Arkovda hovered so symbolically. In your honour, she offered the bright, burning giant.

"Firelords!" she yelled out, her powerful voice reverberating down the alley with authority. "We ride!"

Off to her left, now mounted on one of the Lord Reeve General's own steeds that was glowing with the same phosporesant sheen Iosif sat in his leathers. A hood was passed to him and the adhiel next to him waved at him to put it on.

[Iosif Seregon]

With the hood securely in place, Iosif spurred his horse forward to follow the female adhiel. He knew this was a day he would remember for years to come. His heart was bursting with a lust of for blood like he’d never known. His excitement at what lie ahead drowned the feelings of fear. First rearing its corrupt head with the Lord Reeve General had pulled him aside with this opportunity, Iosif had battled it since. But now the battle was over. In its place thrummed a beat that he could follow with all his might. His heart, his fists, even his mind pulsed with the desire for a most banal instinct – killing.

He gripped the horse tight with his knees as they emerged from the alley. Dressed in black and glowing eerily, they were vengeance incarnate. Fear would not do justice to the chaos they caused this night. It would be terror. Hopefully it would be carnage.

He looked from left to right on the street before him, looking for a ripe target for his torch. The leader, he had only heard her name mumbled, had burst forth and disappeared. He assumed that there were little rules this night. Ride, torch and flee. Cause panic in as many ways as possible. Drive the humans mad with these horrors – so mad that they would leave their beloved island home. But not leave yet, Koba, we don’t want that. First, there is punishment to mete out. There is justice yet.
Iosif thought briefly about where he should strike. There would be easy and obvious targets, of course, but he wanted to make an impression. He wanted something the humans and the Firelords would remember him for. Behind the black hood, his eyes sought a symbol for what he knew the humans would value. Their god was Vargas was it not?. Iosif sought his temple. Surely, in the peasant district there would be a place where they worshipped and prayed for salvation. It would be his pleasure to take it away from them.

[Dartimos Hammer]

Iosif buried his spurs into the horse's sides. It reared slightly then took off down the street towards the center of the human part of town. The streets here were slightly wider than the streets he had seen in the better parts of town, needing to have room for the carts and tradesmen he supposed. The buildings were larger too, with high doors and wide walks.

But no plants. The humna cattle had no sense of style or belonging. They didn't live with Kislovan as much as squat over it.

Most of the ninadhiel that saw him acted just as he expected cowering before thier betters running down sidestreets and alleys looking to escape.

Thunk Something bounced off his shoulder. Thunk

Thunk

It happened again. Looking around Iosif saw a group of the curs standing in the street behind him, many holding rocks, sitcks, or clods of dirt. It was also then that he realized in his haste to ride off and create history, he had indeed ridden off.........
.....Alone.

OOC: I am not declaring this thread impassible (yet), but I do want to make sure you understand that Iosif has gotten himself in a pretty pickle here and he should choose his actions accordingly.

[Guest]

Iosif realized quickly what had happened. In his momentary thirst for violence, he’d been left behind. The Fire Lords must have continued on when Iosif had turned. Thunk. The rock hit him and he turned to face the small group of humans that had gathered.
Iosif would never consider himself a coward but neither would he consider himself stupid. He was alone in a hostile environment. The fact that it was a hostile environment that should never exist rankled him even more. He could not win against these odds and deep inside he knew this was not the way to confront this scourge. Iosif was no martyr.

So, with anger in his heart, he quickly turned his horse and spurred it in violently the direction of the other Fire Lords. On his way back to the group he looked about for the nearest flammable substance. Roof? Hay? Lamp? Surely there would be something here that would burn. And when he found it he would torch it. He would be damned if he left this day without destroying something.

[Dartimos Hammer]

Pulling back on the reins caused the already spooked horse to rear, its front hooves waving dangerously in the air. A surer horseman might not have let the horse come up in the first place, but Iosif's instinct and training took over and he shifted his weight so not to lose his seat.

This accident turned out to be a good thing as the wild horse spooked the crowd in front of him, backing up before the apparition before them. The look of terror on thier faces was something Iosif knew he would savor like a fine wine.

Digging his spurs, he urged his mount forward before the ninadhiel could recover and was soon barrelling down a street towards the sounds of screams that told him his companions must be close.

As for finding something to burn, that was not going to be a problem. Most of the buildings were wood, and old dry wood at that. Windows often had curtains for color since the quick dying humans had no skill in growing living art.

As he pulled to where he could see a group of hooded riders passing the other end of the street he was on, he saw it was empty. Along the dirt street were shops with apartments above.