Ask Grand General Jericho Swain

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General J Swain

Senior Member

12-15-2013

The rhythm of wet, woeful winter weather broke the stillness of the Institute at night. There were other sounds, too, that pierced the silence, seeming louder by the shadows than they did by day. The crackle of the fire in the hearth, the scratching of a quill over parchment, the periodic tak-tak-tak of talons over wood. The Master Tactician sat at his desk, hunched over a half-written document, his crimson eyes alight with flames of purpose. His fiendish familiar, that ever-present raven black as pitch, perched upon the windowsill. Now and again, with the whistle of wind, she shifted for a better vantage point from which to overlook the office, an avian gargoyle keeping watch over the room.

The Grand General himself paid little mind to anything beyond the drying ink upon the page before him. He ground his graying teeth behind his shroud, then shook his head and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in thought.

Denizens of the Institute, summoners and champions alike, all knew that to seek audience with Noxus' Grand General, they might respectfully request entry--and never to do so without good reason, for The Master Tactician was a busy man who did not abide by foolishness. If, through some extraordinary heedlessness or foolhardy temerity, one happened to forget this protocol, the two imposing Raedsel guards posted outside the carved oaken door (armored to the teeth, the eyes of their helms aglow in echo of their leader's) would serve as a sufficient reminder of the fact...


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Ask Darius

Member

12-15-2013

The sound of heavy sabatons thudding against the ground echoed through-out the hall. The heavily armored form appeared, his posture perfectly erect he was the symbol of Noxian might, his every movement seemed to convey this. His gaze had hardened over the years, struggle after struggle, clawing and tearing through Demacian ranks, one after the other all in the name of Noxus and her glory had been his purpose since he joined the military. He rose through the ranks, culled the weak from their positions of power and helped place the man he saw fit to lead Noxus at the head of the great city-state.

Now he walked through the halls of Darkbourne Hold, his thick heavy armor still splattered from the rain outside encased all but his head, giving the appearance of something more juggernaut than man. All the punishment he had received, the cuts, the gouges, the near fatal damage he had sustained and the mental wounds all worth it to see the man whom he placed the highest level of trust in, now leading the nation he had helped correct. Much work still had to be done, cowards and the weak still had their roots within Noxus, but much of it had been cut out, violently, with Swain's ascension to Grand General. If they had the balls to oppose both Darius AND Swain, they had better have the will to stand and face a power that Darius believed even demons had right to fear.

His lips were drawn in a thin grim line as he came to stand before the Raedsel guards, his lips drawn in a thin line as he scowled at the two who blocked the entrance. No matter who it was who approached, they would guard the room with their lives. Even Darius himself was not allowed entry unless permitted by Swain, appearances alone could be deceiving. So Darius stood, dark eyes locked upon one of the guards before him, "Requesting audience with Grand General Jericho Swain." He stated with a tone that would cause most mortal men to shrink away in fear.


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General J Swain

Senior Member

12-15-2013

The Raedsel stood like silent sentinels before their leader's chambers, unmoving, ever-at-attention. When the General-Hand stated his business, they brought their fists over their chests, wordlessly, in unison: offering salutes of stalwart patriotism to the paragon of Noxian might.

From behind the heavy door, the Master Tactician's imperious rasp commanded, "Enter," and the guards stepped aside to permit Darius entry. Swain sat at his desk, clad in pristine military regalia of Noxian green and gold, his chin lifted in dignity. He folded his withered hands upon the stack of folders before him and waited.


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Warden of Wards

Senior Member

12-15-2013

The spectral demon of the Isles manifests from the shadows clinging to the walls leading to the office of Noxian leader, Jericho Swain. Thresh drifts forward into the flickering light cast by the torches dug into the stone. Each step rattles the chains entwining his figure, carrying with him the grisly scythe locked at his hip whilst the lantern idly floats underneath the command of his left hand, which appears curved over the ghastly beacon. As he approaches, he shoots a terrifying glance at the twin guards, his hollow eyes backed by the dancing of his spiritual pyre that composed the majority of his being. Upon nearing the door, he stops, still eying the men defending the entrance.

Moments of dread silence pass between the three before The Warden's visage twists into a sick smile and he utters "I desire...an audience with your Grand General, should he permit it."

As the words slip into existence, Thresh offers a slight bow of respect, awaiting the Raedsel response.


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Unexisted

Senior Member

12-15-2013

Dear General Swain,


Do Noxus burn a lot of fossil fuel?


- Agenor Noir

http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/3692


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General J Swain

Senior Member

12-15-2013

Quote:
Originally Posted by Warden of Wards View Post
The spectral demon of the Isles manifests from the shadows clinging to the walls leading to the office of Noxian leader, Jericho Swain. Thresh drifts forward into the flickering light cast by the torches dug into the stone. Each step rattles the chains entwining his figure, carrying with him the grisly scythe locked at his hip whilst the lantern idly floats underneath the command of his left hand, which appears curved over the ghastly beacon. As he approaches, he shoots a terrifying glance at the twin guards, his hollow eyes backed by the dancing of his spiritual pyre that composed the majority of his being. Upon nearing the door, he stops, still eying the men defending the entrance.

Moments of dread silence pass between the three before The Warden's visage twists into a sick smile and he utters "I desire...an audience with your Grand General, should he permit it."

As the words slip into existence, Thresh offers a slight bow of respect, awaiting the Raedsel response.
The Raedsel remained at attention though the hairs on the backs of their necks stood straight in the sickly light cast by the Warden's lantern. Another moment of silence passed between the trio before the Grand General's grim command rang out from within: "Enter."

He spoke with the tone of one accustomed to giving orders--and seeing them obeyed--and the Raedsel stepped aside to allow Thresh entry. The door behind them creaked open, seemingly of its own accord. In the chamber beyond, the Master Tactician sat behind a large mahogany desk, his crimson eyes flickering in reflection of the hearthfire. The flames behind the grate cast long shadows over the office floor, deepening the wrinkles on Swain's weathered face. From her perch upon the windowsill, the raven tilted her head in assessment of their ghoulish guest.

"Warden," the Grand General rasped in greeting. He paused--like his fiendish familiar, inspecting the shape haunting his doorway--then inquired, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit." They were words purposefully articulated, ringing subtly with irony though their speaker's face remained utterly impassive.


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Ryugi Kazamaru

Senior Member

12-15-2013

(( Welcome, Swain! Please enjoy your stay. Good to have ol' birdbrain back. ))


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Nwol

Senior Member

12-15-2013

The Grand General would receive a letter, rather plain but within it was marked with a familiar insignia. The Rose. Measures had of course been taken to make sure this was not intercepted and that it arrived in Swain's hands.

Quote:
"Since we last have spoken I have acquired a significant amount of updates. As always, I am at your disposal."
[ http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/2110 OOC: Normally I wouldn't do it this way, but new thread warrant introduction me thinks. ]


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General J Swain

Senior Member

12-15-2013

Quote:
Originally Posted by Unexisted View Post
Dear General Swain,


Do Noxus burn a lot of fossil fuel?


- Agenor Noir

http://summoners.shurelia.com/profiles/3692
"The answer to your inquiry can be found in any public volume of environmental data collected by the Institute. I have neither time nor patience to devote to educating those too bloody lazy to educate themselves. Now get out of my sight."


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Ask Darius

Member

12-15-2013

Darius returned the salute to the guards, saluting those that would give their lives for their leader. He then strode forth into the room, his eyes instantly locking upon the form of Swain as he sat upright, the dark gaze studied the form of his ally. His expression was one of stone as he approached the desk where the Grand General was seated, in his hand was the wrought iron battleax he had used since his earliest days in the Noxian Military.

The head of Darius' axe was placed upon the ground between his feet with a heavy thud, both hands clasped together upon the pummel as Darius' cold stare continued to watch Swain, "Sometimes I wonder." he spoke calmly, his expression not breaking once, "How long the Institute of War will stifle Noxus' rise to glory by restricting our movements." It was fairly clear to one like Swain, someone who had been around Darius to pick up on the tell-tail signs, that the Hand of Noxus was frustrated though he never consciously conveyed it outwardly, "How long will this so called peace be forced upon us?"


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