Automagfreek
17-02-2004, 05:45
<AMF News Update>
At 2:30pm today, there was an assassination attempt on Supreme Warlord Damien Dreadfire. The perpetrator was a middle aged man disguised as an Great Hall security guard. The man jumped a guard near the rear entrance and stole his clothes and hid the unconscious guard in the nearby bushes. Using his key card, he gained entry to Lord Dreadire's private quarters and attacked him with a 7 inch knife. Damien promptly subdued the attacker, and the man is now awaiting his public execution.
*
<45 minutes prior>
There was a knock on Dreadfire's door, and at this time of day Damien found that quite unusual. He prompted the person to enter, for nobody disturbed Damien in the afternoon unless it was an emergency. What is it? Damien said in an eager voice. The man walked towards Damien and started talking, his nervousness visable.
Um...excuse me...Damien but there's...s...something that requires your attention..... Dreadfire cocked his eyebrow and sarred with a puzzled look at the man. What's your problem? You seem nervous. What's going on? The man placed both his arms behind his back and continued walking towards Damein. Well...you see sir.. The man let loose a deafening roar, and as he charged Dreadfire he pulled a 7 inch knife from a sheath hidden behind him.
Damein rose to his feet and assumed a combat stance, and as the man charged him Damien stood firm, waiting for him to get close enough. As the man swung the knife fiercely in an over hand strike, Damien blocked the attack with his left arm. With his right, he grabbed ahold of the man's elbow and with great force and a mighty growl he wrenched the man's arm almost completely around. The assassin's eyes grew wide with shock, and as he looked at his now shattered arm he let out a pitiful howl of pain. with great haste Damien drew a broadsword from the weapon rack near his desk, and holding the sword at his waist he proceeded to lift his right boot and kick the man directly in the face.
The man's head bounced off the obsidian floor, and as he writhed in pain in his own tears and blood, Damien drew up his sword and placed the tip near his throat. Sniveling and cowering before Dreadfire, the man begged for mercy. I will honor your request. You will recieve mercy...until you arrive in the public square. You have commited treason of the greatest kind, you attempted to assassinate me. This is a crime that many a man dared dream, for the Halls of the Dead hunger for fresh souls. Upon hearing Damien mention the "Halls", the man broke down into tears. Now you face your judgment, now you will meet your fate.
<30 minutes later>
In the public square the assassin stood with his hands and feet bound. The crowd of several thousand were restless, for they were anxious to see this vile being in his last moments. The Freeks were fiercely loyal to Dreadfire, and upon hearing of this assassination attempt, a public outcry for blood was heard. Without formality or pomp, a 35 foot pike was placed on the ground, and the cretin was tied to it's top. Without a moment for last words the pike was raised high into the air. As the man was hoisted into the cloudless sky, the Freeks roared in approval, spitting on the ground near the villain and cursing him violently.
After nearly a dozen minutes of intense pain, the man screamed out in great suffering, and the pike began piercing the man's skin. He cried out at the top of his lungs until his voice grew raspy, and the man's own weight continued to drive the pike deeper into the small of his back. The Freeks oo'd and ahh'd and the man squirmed and wriggled, his intoxicating dance of pain atop the pike of death fueling the crowd. In an instant, the pike finally broke through skin and innard alike, it's now bloodied tip rupturing the man's stomach. He starring in horror as he slipped further and further down until his body rested on the stopper. His eyes rolled back and his lungs expelled breath for the final time, and within the second the heathen was dead. The crowd exploded in approval, and the man's body was paraded through the streets by the Sentinels.
His impaled corpse was taken to the mountains near ULE City, and on a small peak next to a mountain pass into the city his body was put on display. Through night and day, rain and shine, his body would sit and rot. His stench would be a reminder to all of the penalties of crossing the Dread Fires. A sign was nailed to the pike which had but one word on it: TREASON.
At 2:30pm today, there was an assassination attempt on Supreme Warlord Damien Dreadfire. The perpetrator was a middle aged man disguised as an Great Hall security guard. The man jumped a guard near the rear entrance and stole his clothes and hid the unconscious guard in the nearby bushes. Using his key card, he gained entry to Lord Dreadire's private quarters and attacked him with a 7 inch knife. Damien promptly subdued the attacker, and the man is now awaiting his public execution.
*
<45 minutes prior>
There was a knock on Dreadfire's door, and at this time of day Damien found that quite unusual. He prompted the person to enter, for nobody disturbed Damien in the afternoon unless it was an emergency. What is it? Damien said in an eager voice. The man walked towards Damien and started talking, his nervousness visable.
Um...excuse me...Damien but there's...s...something that requires your attention..... Dreadfire cocked his eyebrow and sarred with a puzzled look at the man. What's your problem? You seem nervous. What's going on? The man placed both his arms behind his back and continued walking towards Damein. Well...you see sir.. The man let loose a deafening roar, and as he charged Dreadfire he pulled a 7 inch knife from a sheath hidden behind him.
Damein rose to his feet and assumed a combat stance, and as the man charged him Damien stood firm, waiting for him to get close enough. As the man swung the knife fiercely in an over hand strike, Damien blocked the attack with his left arm. With his right, he grabbed ahold of the man's elbow and with great force and a mighty growl he wrenched the man's arm almost completely around. The assassin's eyes grew wide with shock, and as he looked at his now shattered arm he let out a pitiful howl of pain. with great haste Damien drew a broadsword from the weapon rack near his desk, and holding the sword at his waist he proceeded to lift his right boot and kick the man directly in the face.
The man's head bounced off the obsidian floor, and as he writhed in pain in his own tears and blood, Damien drew up his sword and placed the tip near his throat. Sniveling and cowering before Dreadfire, the man begged for mercy. I will honor your request. You will recieve mercy...until you arrive in the public square. You have commited treason of the greatest kind, you attempted to assassinate me. This is a crime that many a man dared dream, for the Halls of the Dead hunger for fresh souls. Upon hearing Damien mention the "Halls", the man broke down into tears. Now you face your judgment, now you will meet your fate.
<30 minutes later>
In the public square the assassin stood with his hands and feet bound. The crowd of several thousand were restless, for they were anxious to see this vile being in his last moments. The Freeks were fiercely loyal to Dreadfire, and upon hearing of this assassination attempt, a public outcry for blood was heard. Without formality or pomp, a 35 foot pike was placed on the ground, and the cretin was tied to it's top. Without a moment for last words the pike was raised high into the air. As the man was hoisted into the cloudless sky, the Freeks roared in approval, spitting on the ground near the villain and cursing him violently.
After nearly a dozen minutes of intense pain, the man screamed out in great suffering, and the pike began piercing the man's skin. He cried out at the top of his lungs until his voice grew raspy, and the man's own weight continued to drive the pike deeper into the small of his back. The Freeks oo'd and ahh'd and the man squirmed and wriggled, his intoxicating dance of pain atop the pike of death fueling the crowd. In an instant, the pike finally broke through skin and innard alike, it's now bloodied tip rupturing the man's stomach. He starring in horror as he slipped further and further down until his body rested on the stopper. His eyes rolled back and his lungs expelled breath for the final time, and within the second the heathen was dead. The crowd exploded in approval, and the man's body was paraded through the streets by the Sentinels.
His impaled corpse was taken to the mountains near ULE City, and on a small peak next to a mountain pass into the city his body was put on display. Through night and day, rain and shine, his body would sit and rot. His stench would be a reminder to all of the penalties of crossing the Dread Fires. A sign was nailed to the pike which had but one word on it: TREASON.