There are three duties protaining to the blessing of an Overlord's child. The first duty has already been covered, a duty that supposedly reflects the Overlord's loyalty to the forces of darkness. Or something like that. The second duty is more of a challenge. See, in order to complete the second duty, one must gather three items to present to the Voice of Evil. You know, like an offering or something, without the burning incence and exotic temples. Of course these "offerings" don't go without a reward, however the reward in question isn't power, nor immortality, not even a lifetime supply of chocolate. No, your reward for riling up your most prized possessions to give to a being you can't even see let alone touch is....a prophecy. THREE to be exact. Can I get a whoop-whoop? If you want to go into detail its a prophecy of personality for an animal, a prophecy of status for a mineral, and finally a prophecy of relations for a vegetable. Pretty nifty stuff there. The problem is, these three items can't be your normal everyday items, they have to be priceless. And that's where the challenge lies. You can't find priceless items at the nearest supermarket, life just isn't that easy. In order to gather such priceless objects one would have to circle the entire Earth only about five times, or stroll into the nearest black market. They sell some cheap stuff there. Like a mouflon lamb imported from Iran!
"Baaaaaaaa...baaaa...baa-" before the lamb could bleat another complaint it was silenced by none other than the grumpy old Overlord.
"Silence! I didn't spend millions of hard-stolen cash on you for my health you know", Rathor grumbled in the darkness. "Where is that disembodied freak anyways? He was supposed to be here an hour ago! Seven hours! Seven hours h--she...IT's kept me waiting, when it was supposed to be six! You would think an all-knowing being such as it would be able to keep track of time."
'My my, didn't your mother teach you patience was a virtue?'
Lord Rathor scowled at the darkness as that all too familiar wind pattern came back into existance. "Technically, there's no such thing as virtue here. And don't bring my mother into this." And to prove his point, the Overlord pointed the finger. And no one uses the finger on a disembodied Voice, because a Voice can totally kill ya. Totally.
That is if it had an actual body.
'Oh, I'm hurt....why so touchy about your parents....weren't you the one who -accidently- murdered them both...yesss?' If there was anything that would make Lord Rathor get P.O., it was any reference towards his parents. Nice people, papa was a warlord who happened to have a reputation for torturing every...single...thing...in...existance. Only, not that many organic lifeforms. And mama was just as nasty, the old witch left poor, innocent Rathor in a remote cavern inhabited by unintelligent dragons for five months before returning to find her son on the brink of death. Did she do anything to save him? Nooooo. It was three weeks before Rathor was strong enough to walk with no support, and even then he still had sensitivity issues...as well as breathing problems. The boy was burnt to a crisp. Worst. Parents. Ever. And don't get me started on the guy's sixteenth birthday party. He still has bite marks from those pesky man-eating piranhas. What a way to ruin a pool party, supposedly the piranhas were meant to be a "test". Of what? Rathor's ability to swim realy fast?
"Hey, they had it coming! What kind of parents give their children a man-eating, three-headed hell hound for a Christmas present?!"
'Actually...if you were to tame that beast it would've been a most useful pet...'
"And have Hades on my hide for the fifth time since I stole his ferryman's boat? I don't think so!"
'What's done is done....all that matters now is the offerings....what have you brought me, Rathor....?' The air seemed to grow thicker until it became heavy enough to frighten the mouflon. "Baaa-!" Rathor sighed, and quickly covered the lamb's mouth before the animal could cause a racket. "A lamb, but it's no Hebrew sacrafice. Imported all the way from Iran, though a local domesticated lamb would've probably been a lot more obediant".
For your information, lambs are smarter than you think. They understand human speech. They also understand when they are about to be sacraficed to some sort of god. One would say it's almost likesecond nature. After all they've been sacrafice bait since the fertile crescent. Honestly, why couldn't they just settle for crops as sacraficial items? Or gold? The Mayans and Aztecs got away with it, but in the Middle East, Europe and Asia you have to use animals? I blame Cain. He should've tried alot harder. And now, because of Cain's stupid mistake the poor mouflon was doomed to be devoured by darkness in exchange for a pesky prophecy, and let me tell ya, that lamb wouldn't heel to such blasphemy. Luckily, in Limbo, they accept all three types of offerings.
"Aaaaahhh!" cried Rathor, holding his bitten hand. The lamb took this chance to try and get the hell out of there. Unfortunately, before it could reach what it thought was the exit it instead got caught inside the darkness, making it the Voice's exotic catch of the day.
'It seems pretty obediant to me...I approve of the animal...'
"Ha, ha. Halarius. Now, the prophecy?"
'Yesss....of course....your son will grow to become headstrong....never yealding...never giving...always pursuing his goals....he shall be cunning....and devilishly handsome...slow to anger...but quick to bite back if deemed necessary....don't be surprised if the boy disobeys you directly....or worse...'
"What do you mean 'or worse'?" Lord Rathor asked, raising an eyebrow. There are so many unwanted nuisances that could come of this. Like backstabbing for example! Sensing the Overlord's concern, ol' Voice of Evil decided to shed some light on the situation....a very dim light.
'Oh don't worry...he won't be that much of a threat....only if you allow him to be...frankly it probably wouldn't matter anyways....you are a bit overprotective of your current status...now....the mineral...'
Minerals are more tricky, since prophecies based on material items are more inspired from symbolism. For example, a goblet is often use to symbolize family and tradition, but is used more often as a ritualistic item in certain polytheistic religions/cultures. If filled with wine it might often reflect immortality (see holy grail), or it could imply that someone would grow up to be an alcoholic. Either way, you gotta think about just what sort of material object you're gonna present, before actually presenting it. A knife may represent a person who will undergo relationship's that just won't work, but be protected from pain and nightmares. A staff might imply an authoritive figure. For example, Rathor's father presented a golden sceptre for his mineral offering. Traditionally the mineral items would predict a person's status, and possibly even their personal abilities. Rathor's offering, was a diadem. A diadem is a type of crown fastened at the back, sometimes it's bejeweled, sometimes it isn't. A diadem is often used to donate a king's/emperor's authority, but it is also used as an emblem for regal power or dignity. If you want to go into detail, it's basically an object befitting for a sepreme ruler, in this case an Overlord. The diadem was of course bejeweled with three precious gems. The first gem was a Ruby, a jewel famously reconized as the king of all jewels, a jewel that represents passion. The second jewel was a Rubellite, a particularly beautiful gemstone from the colorful family of tourmalines. It's vibrant color scheme is said to give off a seductive, pleasurable aura. The third jewel was a Morganite, a gem full of many fine pink hues with a hint of orange, emitting charm, esprit, and tenderness. The diadem itself? It was made of brass. Yeah...totally awesome right? Did I mention most of the jewels looked pink? Pink is a manly color ain't it?
'You've really outdone yourself this time...a diadem...where you got this I wonder....and the jewels...quite an unnatural combination....very well.....he will grow to become purhaps the most powerfull Overlord yet....however....he will be trialed....weither he will be victorious or not I can't decide....he will become a servant of lust...but he will be charming....seductive....and above all passionate.....how this will work out I wonder.....well...we shall see won't we....after all you still haven't presented me the vegetable....
Lord Rathor sighed, his son's future was already turning out to be a nuisance. First he was fortold to become a headstrong, magnificant bastard, now he was a powerful and headstrong, magnificant bastard with a femenine side? What next? What else could this "Voice of Evil" come up with? Well, it wasn't like the Voice's prophecies were accurate. I mean, it wasn't like the kid would actually be able to overthrow him or something. Noooo, that would be impossible. The Overlord pulled out the last offering, a black petaled rose whose thorns were dripping with violet fluids.
Now, I don't know how or why, but out of all the many plant-life in the world, a black rose was good enough to scare the daylights out of the Voice of Evil. It probably scared it more than weeds could, and those things are scary. But what was the source of this fear? Was it the color black? No, it was evil, evil isn't effected by black. Was it the thorns? Nah, the thing didn't have a body for crying out loud. Maybe it was the violet fluids? Seriously, nobody's afraid of fluids, as long as they aren't acidic. No, the "almighty" Voice of Evil was afraid of none of these things, it was the fact that Lord Rathor would even dare to present it such an object. Why? Because this black rose could possibly bring about the worst luck known to man...and woman. When it comes to relationships, black roses if given to a lover would basically mean your breaking up with them. If given to a relative it's almost like your wishing them the worst of luck. And it's rare too. It will only grow in dark places (usually caverns), and at a certain time of month (usually december). Each rose only emits one seed, and it takes years for a single rose to grow. By the way, black roses aren't found on Earth, and be glad. If pierced by one of it's black thorns you sir(or madam) are in danger of dying at midnight. That's right folks, this flower takes a rose's capacity for representing death...to the extreme. So you would understand why the Voice is so freaked out.
'Are you sure you want to present that...thing....?' the Voice asked with a hint of foreboding in it's voice.
"Yes, yes. Get on with it!"
The air grew cold, and the chamber was struck with a few minutes of eerie silence. It was like Death itself was witnessing the ritual. 'Very well...here is your reward...'
Last edited by sam4books
on Sat Aug 22, 2009 7:48 am, edited 1 time in total.
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