- Messages
- 15
- Character Biography
- Link
Nubydos was endless years lost. Amun'Dzeer turned the bronze Khopesh over in her hands, one small treasure recovered from recent scavengers. A recent battle in the area attracted looters, and with them, a long-lost cache of Nubydian arms left behind during the Fall.
It fit her hand so perfectly; it was the first time a quality weapon fit her grip. Tarnished though it was, it was sharp and sturdy. It was proof that everything she had believed, her convictions, the stories passed back and forth...
The Gnolls once reigned in Amol-Kalit, however long ago, as a sophisticated kingdom. Cultured, advanced, and full of wonder. Now... she looked upon her savage warriors, Gnoll brutes called up from the Savannah and steppes. They couldn't even speak their ancestral tongue, they used stolen arms and pilfered armor, they worshiped Human gods.
She clutched the ankh of cool faience upon her neck. If the Anaphite were correct, this was the key. To all of it. Her throne, their kingdom, the return of a people so long trod upon and relegated to vermin and pests. The restoration of pride and soul to the Gnoll race and peoples.
She had only two hundred men and six women under her command; Gnolls, all of them, and only her three brothers could speak Nubydian. She was to find her birthright with this? To restore the ancient line of Pharaohs?
Atleast she had an Anaphite Necropolise Knight by her side. She was armored in heavy bronze plates, spell-hardened and covered in so many magical charms. Her ax was twice the size of Amun'Dzeer, and the princess had seen it sheer a centaur in half vertically. This ancient veteran, and her mighty Giant Scorpion, were the only things she felt she could truly rely upon. She had no friends, no allies, and no family beyond her brothers.
Hopefully... that would change now. She had arrived in the center for the most prominent Warlord of Amol-Kalit, Emperor Gerra he fashioned himself, a champion of the Gods and avatar of the divine. It was honestly impressive, and if he was so divinely inspired, perhaps he would see the just cause in restoring a depised lineage of God-blessed Kings.
Or, he would laugh at a Gnoll claiming she was royalty, try to steal her host and her treasures, and maybe shove her in a cage for amusement. The only guarentee she had that she would leave here was her Necropolis Knight; this Emperor Gerra would underestimate her, and her followers, if he dismissed her. Then, his elite guard would fall like flies before a Milleniun-old warrior-monk and magician-knight.
The risk was immense, as was the potential reward. She was risking her life, and the lives of all those who trusted her. She had to do this, though. She had to start somewhere, and an ally who could give her some support could be just the beginning her people, her species, needed. If this worked, if Emperor Gerra acquiesced, then perhaps the Gnolls could have a future again.
And that was worth any risk, as long as the pay off was equal or better.
"Amun'Dzeer?" Asked a voice; a pack of snarling hyena-men swarmed at it, weapons glinting and teeth glistening; "Ah! Uh, a thousand pardons, Princess Amun'Dzeer? His Grace is willing to receive you now. You have been announced and His Benevolence will hear you."
She rose from her cushions, her throng of brave warriors parting to reveal a silk-robed, bejewelled and perfumed beauty among her race. She was muscled, lightly scarred and banded with golden rings of fur and if she didn't discard the Khopesh she was brandishing she would have been threatening. Her yellow eyes shone with black irises, predatory yet deeply intelligent. She was a pampered amazon, mighty by human measure (though most Gnoll Matriarchs could boast more raw might) and garbed in sophistication befitting a ruler in exile.
"Princess Amun'Dzeer, Heir of the Pharonic Dynasty of Nubydos," she answered, stepping slowly and with patience, savoring and steeling herself for this moment as she passed her heirloom to her most trusted guardian, "will speak with the Emperor now."
She left her tent, a small camp outside of the palace; her followers had small campfires or rude dugouts, their chariots and baggage forming a humble nomadic village. There, a short ways away, a ziggurat: she had only a brief climb, especially for one in her physique, before destiny would unfold itself.
She wasted no time. The summit drew closer, it's airy and sunlit court room boasting opulence of every sort which permeated Amol-Kalit. As she rose up the steps, her golden jewelry and Faience charms glittered and shone like something lost in time; black silk with white and blue folds, the gentle scent of flowers and perfumes hanging about her.
Her white teeth flashed as her yellow eyes snaked across the floor, slowly taking in the court. She gave a humble curtsey from the doorway, the crier announced her with a boast, "Presenting, Princess of Long-Lost Nubydos, last of her line, Pharaoh Amun'Dzeer."
She remained at the doorway, awaiting the invitation to enter. Someone like Gerra, this emperor who forged a kingdom in Amol-Kalit... it took great will and force to create a nation in the ruins of Nubydos, this ravaged place her people once called home. The fact he had done it was evidence enough he was not to be disrespected. She would offer him no such slights, obeying every courtly courtesy she could remember and think of.
It fit her hand so perfectly; it was the first time a quality weapon fit her grip. Tarnished though it was, it was sharp and sturdy. It was proof that everything she had believed, her convictions, the stories passed back and forth...
The Gnolls once reigned in Amol-Kalit, however long ago, as a sophisticated kingdom. Cultured, advanced, and full of wonder. Now... she looked upon her savage warriors, Gnoll brutes called up from the Savannah and steppes. They couldn't even speak their ancestral tongue, they used stolen arms and pilfered armor, they worshiped Human gods.
She clutched the ankh of cool faience upon her neck. If the Anaphite were correct, this was the key. To all of it. Her throne, their kingdom, the return of a people so long trod upon and relegated to vermin and pests. The restoration of pride and soul to the Gnoll race and peoples.
She had only two hundred men and six women under her command; Gnolls, all of them, and only her three brothers could speak Nubydian. She was to find her birthright with this? To restore the ancient line of Pharaohs?
Atleast she had an Anaphite Necropolise Knight by her side. She was armored in heavy bronze plates, spell-hardened and covered in so many magical charms. Her ax was twice the size of Amun'Dzeer, and the princess had seen it sheer a centaur in half vertically. This ancient veteran, and her mighty Giant Scorpion, were the only things she felt she could truly rely upon. She had no friends, no allies, and no family beyond her brothers.
Hopefully... that would change now. She had arrived in the center for the most prominent Warlord of Amol-Kalit, Emperor Gerra he fashioned himself, a champion of the Gods and avatar of the divine. It was honestly impressive, and if he was so divinely inspired, perhaps he would see the just cause in restoring a depised lineage of God-blessed Kings.
Or, he would laugh at a Gnoll claiming she was royalty, try to steal her host and her treasures, and maybe shove her in a cage for amusement. The only guarentee she had that she would leave here was her Necropolis Knight; this Emperor Gerra would underestimate her, and her followers, if he dismissed her. Then, his elite guard would fall like flies before a Milleniun-old warrior-monk and magician-knight.
The risk was immense, as was the potential reward. She was risking her life, and the lives of all those who trusted her. She had to do this, though. She had to start somewhere, and an ally who could give her some support could be just the beginning her people, her species, needed. If this worked, if Emperor Gerra acquiesced, then perhaps the Gnolls could have a future again.
And that was worth any risk, as long as the pay off was equal or better.
"Amun'Dzeer?" Asked a voice; a pack of snarling hyena-men swarmed at it, weapons glinting and teeth glistening; "Ah! Uh, a thousand pardons, Princess Amun'Dzeer? His Grace is willing to receive you now. You have been announced and His Benevolence will hear you."
She rose from her cushions, her throng of brave warriors parting to reveal a silk-robed, bejewelled and perfumed beauty among her race. She was muscled, lightly scarred and banded with golden rings of fur and if she didn't discard the Khopesh she was brandishing she would have been threatening. Her yellow eyes shone with black irises, predatory yet deeply intelligent. She was a pampered amazon, mighty by human measure (though most Gnoll Matriarchs could boast more raw might) and garbed in sophistication befitting a ruler in exile.
"Princess Amun'Dzeer, Heir of the Pharonic Dynasty of Nubydos," she answered, stepping slowly and with patience, savoring and steeling herself for this moment as she passed her heirloom to her most trusted guardian, "will speak with the Emperor now."
She left her tent, a small camp outside of the palace; her followers had small campfires or rude dugouts, their chariots and baggage forming a humble nomadic village. There, a short ways away, a ziggurat: she had only a brief climb, especially for one in her physique, before destiny would unfold itself.
She wasted no time. The summit drew closer, it's airy and sunlit court room boasting opulence of every sort which permeated Amol-Kalit. As she rose up the steps, her golden jewelry and Faience charms glittered and shone like something lost in time; black silk with white and blue folds, the gentle scent of flowers and perfumes hanging about her.
Her white teeth flashed as her yellow eyes snaked across the floor, slowly taking in the court. She gave a humble curtsey from the doorway, the crier announced her with a boast, "Presenting, Princess of Long-Lost Nubydos, last of her line, Pharaoh Amun'Dzeer."
She remained at the doorway, awaiting the invitation to enter. Someone like Gerra, this emperor who forged a kingdom in Amol-Kalit... it took great will and force to create a nation in the ruins of Nubydos, this ravaged place her people once called home. The fact he had done it was evidence enough he was not to be disrespected. She would offer him no such slights, obeying every courtly courtesy she could remember and think of.
