Aye given Avrik can't speak this would be apt
" Thhe crows bid the Gravesworn welcome as they stood in the small open courtyard of the annex building. Avrik, as he ussually could be found, was perched on the stone form of an ancient blacksmith cradling within his arms a dark flame, its glow casting hollow shadows o'er the walls.
The Gravesworn were quiet, few enough ever spoke a word, some couldnt even, Avrik amongst those, his own body burnt to ashes by the Noble Knights after the War of Giants, now his half bleached hald black skeleton could be seen through the rents in his tattered clothes, each bone bathes in a malign green glow..
Amongst them could be seen Noxus the Plagueord, also Plagius, now wearing a smock and dancing to some inane beat he was playing off of the skull of old Titan Maeroxphian. Evem more were there. Lord Ziko of the Rhymewhind Tombs, the Ashen Willowalker of Eos, and many more nightmarish figures of legend.
Each stared intently at the figure sitting comfortably, legs crossed, shoulders relaxed, head hung, now flanked by two of the massive crow demons and half a hundred more smaller drow which consisted his Murder.
A chill wind filed through the remains of the broken tower, some did not quiet hear the barely audible whisper that was Avrik as his mind brushed against thiers.
Some stiffened defensively, until he placated or dominated thier minds. Now all heard his for the first time, his voice, his mind cold like ice, hollow, not human, as final as death itself. Though Avrik could not speak he made his intention clear through images instead, Nito falling to the light, the tombs sealed and those that should be dead allowed to walk freely, the noisy spread of humanity, the chaos it brought.
"Hear me oh brothers of the grave;
To Nito our loyalty we gave. To now serve his allies now in this twisted world;
by now the thread of fate unfuled; our destiny awaits this day;
and we march to battle for knights to slay."
This rhyming was typical of Avrik, though unbeknowest to them, as he spent many hours alone with the crows, who spoke in naught but rhyme and riddle. Here many of the Gravesworn looked puzzled, they needed no rousing speech, they knew thier duty. T o slay the living in the name of the Dead Ones. To bring misery to the hearts of men. To devour all light that could be found. Though still they fidgeted uncofrotably in the pause Avrik lefts.
Only Plagius was not bestilled by this, his shrieks of madness formed cacophany the drowned out the cawwing of the Crows. H'ed never like the birds much and found thier eyes to peicing for his tastes.
Again the dark presence touched thier minds, different now than it had been before, a howling gale, the shrieks of the dead, the clawing of nails on the insides of the tombs, and then his ice cold voice over all the din.
"Brother, my brothers, who swore, like I, their very souls to the Lord of the Dead we stand against the tide. I speak not of numbers, for the Knights outnumber us already, I speak not of their relentless nature, for it is plain to see, I speak of the Light. We slumbered for centuries in fear of its gaze. We dwelt where there was nothing but bones, and death, and silence."
The crows cawwed loudly, the beginnings of a great frenzy, and the voice inside thier minds become more opressive.
"We stood our ground in the hallowed tombs, and Nito was not with us that day. Twas not his design for us fell them all, merely to hold the line. He commanded we break thier back here, a world of Twilight and Cold. His commands were simple. Do not Die the Final Death!"
The crows were reaching a clamour, and all the denizens of the Painted World could hear and were afraid, as the crows had not risen as they had in a millenia, all those save Etraiu, the Hand, and his most veteran Lifehunters. Priscilla merely smiled kindly to the Hand, knowingly,her eyes now fiercely proud of all of her children.
Now the Annes itsef began to shake, the mentally projected voice now audible, his own voice now no longer braced by the barriers of the mind it tore at thier ears, a torrent of screams, death cries, and shireiking crows.
"This is the precipice! We stand now before the Veil" Avrik projected a long claw like finger to the rent in the the fabric of reality where the Painting stood in Anor Londo.
"We stand here to show all Nito's might, his malice, HIS WILL BE DONE!"
And with that the Gravesworn raised thier blades,a myriad of weapons stood tall as if to spilt the skies, thier voices mingled together to forms chants of "His Will be Done" and" Nito, Nito, First of the Dead!'
Avrik lorded over them all from atop his podium, he could feel it this time, the winds of change, and something more besides. He held out a thin, ghostly arm to his side, hands clawed at the air as if he was forming the air itself.
At first there was nothing, then a small aura a darkness appeared, it grew and grew until it was as tall as Avrik himself.
The Grvesworn watched on, stil chanting.
Then... the Murder scattered to the winds, taking off in shriller schreeches, bursting over the heads of the assembled Gravelords.
Now resting in the Revenant Avrik's hand was a gleaming, curved scythe....."
This is the first part of Avrik's "I'm going too war section"
Im also no good at making speeches for anyone other than good guys and Avrik really doesn fit the good guy image.
Also what does a villain say to his minions?
Go out there and try not to die too much?
by Forum Pirate Wed May 30, 2012 9:43 pm
