Author Topic: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧  (Read 2178 times)

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⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« on: May 28, 2022, 11:01:40 PM »







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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #1 on: May 29, 2022, 10:27:39 AM »

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Barozzi and Marmagna had cultivated a certain reputation in Vor Ziyden. Provided the client had enough nightshades in their purse, they would not be turned away. Killed their own mother? That's obviously not a problem, Barozzi and Marmagna would be more than happy to take their case. More often than not, they were successful in talking down the stapan from bigger fines down to smaller, more manageable ones. Well, manageable for some.

The Borcan legal system is built entirely around restitution and Ezio Barozzi was a master when it came to its manipulation. Thus, it was indescribably poetic when his financial fortunes wholly reversed themselves and he found himself mired in debt with no real method to pay off any of it. He was brought before the stapan, the same man whom he argued in front of countless times for countless clients. The man's lip curled upwards in amusement; he certainly found this turn of events to be funny.

Ezio Barozzi, of course, wasn't laughing. He wasn't smiling. There was a fear in his eyes, and his expression was not one of quiet resignation as he was sentenced to toil in a privately-owned debtor's prison for the rest of his days. Instead, the look he held was one of abject terror; all that confidence he once held while in the stapan's chambers melted away and the brilliant solicitor who talked circles around his rivals suddenly had nothing left to say.

The back-breaking labor he performed while under court-ordered peonage took its toll on Ezio; he only made it two years into it, with a mountain of debt being passed along to his daughter Roxana. They say in his final moments, he pleaded and begged for 'more time'. Was it for him? Was it for his daughter? Who was he even talking to? None can say for certain, though the faint smell of sulfur lingers about Ezio Barozzi's grave to this day...

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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #2 on: May 29, 2022, 03:38:52 PM »

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"Was that as much fun for you as it was for me?", he said.

No, thought Roxana, though she dared not to vocalize it.

Roxana knew it did not matter. He could flop around on top of her for another hour, or even seven; it did not matter, so long as she got the nightshades this man promised her, once he had his fill of her.

What would it buy her?

Freedom.

Freedom from her father's debts. Out of the red for good. She would no longer have to constantly save.

It would also give her the freedom to walk away from this life, but why would she? She enjoyed being in the company of the rich and powerful.

She enjoyed the parties she was constantly invited to; she enjoyed the music, the dancing. She enjoyed all the food and drink, all of it delectable and decadent. She enjoyed seeing the men and women stare at her, their hungry eyes driven by lust, envy, or both. She enjoyed the lavish gifts, and she'll enjoy them even more now that she needn't pawn them off to try and pay off that miserable debt.

It was like a dream, all of it; unfortunately, we all must be roused from such things, at some point or another...


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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #3 on: May 31, 2022, 08:49:12 PM »
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Roxana was told that this room was off-limits. Her father said she wouldn't be able to understand any bit of what was inside until she was older.

Tonight was the night. She was old enough, at least by his reckoning.

She was excited. She was afraid. There was equal parts anticipation and apprehension. In spite of all her curiosity towards what happened to lie behind that door, she obeyed her father and never ventured in. She knew better than to act against his wishes.

After what felt like an eternity spent waiting in the parlor, her father fetched her and led her through one hallway, then another, then still another to the unopened door.

"We are special, Roxana. Our family's success comes from more than just hard work. It comes from our family's traditions. Your great-grandfather was shown this room when he was your age, as was your grandfather, as was I. When the time comes, you shall pass along our family's traditions to your children... but more important than the traditions we adhere to, are the contracts. I've told you time and again how important contracts are, and how important keeping to them is."

As he talked, he opened the door. His words became a dull, unintelligible drone to Roxana as she peered around, her pupils as wide as saucers. There were candles strewn about everywhere, a pentacle etched into the floor of the small circular room. There rested a small, plain-looking stone altar.. and atop the altar, the broken horn of a ram. Chiseled into the stone was a single name of ineffable power and strength:




« Last Edit: August 05, 2022, 09:44:12 PM by Imperial »

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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #4 on: July 14, 2022, 08:53:33 AM »
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Much had happened. In hindsight, it was only a matter of time before she got on the bad side of a possessive and scorned spouse, especially since the stapan she entered into a contract with was anything but discreet. With how often he boasted about their dalliances, it was almost inevitable that she would learn of what her husband was up to... and of her. The other woman.

It wasn't about love. It's never about love. Marriage in Borca is a contract like any other, a business arrangement. A transaction taking place between two parties for their own mutual benefit, and little else. All the same, he belonged to her... and Roxana, the other woman, was trespassing. That merited reprisal. Fortunately, she saw the writing on the wall and knew it was time to leave. In truth, she wanted to leave Borca behind and go elsewhere, and this offered her just the excuse she needed.

When considering where to stay in the long-term, Vallaki would not have ordinarily been her first choice. It was grimy, it was rustic, and far removed from a lot of the comforts she was accustomed to... but with this new property, landing in both of their laps, came opportunity. She would offer them luxuries, a taste of the finer things here, entertainments unlike what others elsewhere in the city were prepared to offer. She would offer them a taste of herself and like the poppy-eaters, they would coming back for more and more...

She would spin her web from silk cushions and bedsheets and the flies would inevitably beat their wings over to her...



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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #5 on: July 21, 2022, 09:48:05 PM »
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Ekarest Autumnmalt had no idea where he was.

This was not his destination. This was not Myratma. This was not Tethyr. Nothing was as it should be. Why was not the moon crying? What were these stars and why were none of them familiar to him?

Days went by and Ekerest began to learn more about where he was, and yet the more he learned, the more questions he had...

What was "the Vacancy of Power" these unwashed peons were yammering on about? Who was Camille Dilisnya?

For months upon end, he prayed. He prayed for guidance, and yet no answers came. For a time, he thought the beast with the broken horn he saw along the crudely-cobbled toll-roads was a sign. He slew the beast and dug through its entrails, hoping that augury would provide a clue as to what he should do next... and yet there was nothing.

His liege was not entirely silent, though. The deal he made so many years ago continued to be honored. The all-consuming, unnatural flame continued to dance between his fingertips, it remained his to command, the sulfur and brimstone continuing to cling to his form like a limpet on a ship's sunken husk. The honeyed lies continued to spill so easily out from his forked tongue. Power remained his, and thus the terms would of that deal would continue to be honored.

The terms were simple: Serve.

Serve, he did, though he ceased to be Ekarest Autumnmalt, though he had never truly existed to begin with. This was as a snake, shedding its skin. Who was he before Ekarest Autumnmalt? It does not matter, just as Ekarest Autumnmalt himself did not matter, in the end. The serpent would take on the name Ernesto Barozzi and though this place was strange and unfamiliar to him, it would become familiar... and he would continue to serve, in accordance with the wishes and tenets of the Lord Who Watches.




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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #6 on: July 29, 2022, 08:03:36 AM »

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THE FIRST BOOK OF ASTAROTH



Astaroth was one of many powerful beings, powerful entities who stood for true law and a perfect order. He was devoted to his work, and his work was the eventual elimination of chaos, the stamping out of discord, of mayhem and of all the suffering that so frequently accompanied change. Life changes into death, summer into winter, day into night…and with their arrival came the agonies of loss and mourning.

Astaroth sought an end to change. As its agents worked to try and infiltrate the hallowed halls of Astaroth’s demesne, he exposed them and saw them cast out. However, his peers began to fret over the competence Astaroth had shown and, though they squabbled amongst each other, frequently competing with one another and spurred ever on by their unchecked ambition. Fearing that the same ambition rested in Astaroth, they saw him sent into exile.

They were right to fear him, but only because Astaroth alone had seen the truth. Squabbling made Astaroth’s erstwhile peers weak, and more susceptible to what Astaroth himself had seen. The agents of chaos and misery were always looking for ways to exploit their weaknesses and if they could not present a truly united front, they would never be able to bring true peace to all of creation. Thus, Astaroth resolved to try and save his erstwhile peers from themselves. He would come to rule them with an iron fist, encased beneath a velvet glove.

He would need two things, however. The first was more power. Fortunately, power would find him as powerful entities aligned with chaos would find him and, knowing through foresight that he would eventually become their undoing, attempt to destroy him. Their failure granted him divinity; suddenly, he was more than what his peers were. He had superseded that. Now, He was a god.

This would not be enough to claim what was rightfully His, though. He needed a kingdom, a world that He could see molded in accordance with His own image.  With it, He would assert His supremacy over those who wrongly ousted him and with one world made harmonious and orderly, the rest of creation would eventually follow as the forces of chaos, disorganized as they are, are broken and sundered and made to rout.

Astaroth first attempted to alter and shape another world and yet His efforts were thwarted at every turn by rival deities who opposed His vision and sought only to maintain the status quo. Thus, He ventured to within the Mists, It would be within its embrace that he would create His kingdom. What He did and His message would inspire and help to create the chief religions within the Mists, and yet neither could see the whole of everything; they could only catch a sliver of His reflection.

It has already started; His chosen few have created a fissure in reality, broken away from the northern banks of a lake in Barovia. “Iadul”. “Perfidus”. It has many names, but it doesn’t ultimately change what it is: the beginnings of His kingdom. Dr. van Richten, misguided as he is overall, was right when writing of reality wrinkles and their effects. Soon, all within the Mists shall be transformed and we who serve Him shall stand to inherit.

Already the agents of chaos work yet again to stop Him and His work; they take refuge in a labyrinthine temple that was once His and defile it with their profanity. A general of His, once thought loyal, has defected and now serves alongside those whom he has been enemies with for centuries.

No true force stands against them, at present, save the forces of law who are rightly appalled by this general’s treachery.

The vast majority of mortals who dare tread in His kingdom do not truly seek the destruction of what lies within the desecrated temple, for that would require the destruction of their phylacteries. What they seek instead are riches and material wealth, or else the treasures lurking within the meteors falling from the saffron sky. Do not let them fool you; their intentions are far from noble.

Thus, it falls onto us to take greater measures to remove the invaders once and for all, and likewise see the borders of His kingdom grow. In doing so, we will taking the first steps to seeing the whole of creation unmade and remade again into our paradise.



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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #7 on: August 08, 2022, 06:03:55 PM »


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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #8 on: August 22, 2022, 12:50:44 PM »
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The memories of that day began to haunt her once again; she had thought that they had been buried, sealed away by her own mind as a way to protect her… but the seal had been broken.

It was several years ago, back when her father was still alive, back before his financial troubles became a known quantity; in spite of that, the wound felt fresh… no, even worse - like a wound ignored and allowed to fester and succumb to rot.

It happened in a flash. Five minutes earlier, Lorenzo had been laughing at a joke she made… and then he was dead, his blood pooling on the cobbled streets from where the young stapan ran him through. She could not even remember what they were fighting over… and yet the indemnity he was forced to pay for the murder of Lorenzo was burned into her mind: 200 nightshades.

Her father handled the stapan’s case, arguing it before the magistrate. He didn’t know about Lorenzo, and even if he did, he wouldn’t like him. He was a rake and a scoundrel, at least in the eyes of most living in Vor Ziyden, but even if he wasn’t loyal to anything else, he was loyal to her. She would never truly forgive her father for that.

She knew that after Lorenzo, she would never be able to know true love again. She knew they were meant for each other, that they were true soulmates, and there would be no replacing him. There would be many men after him in her bed, and many women too, but there would be none like Lorenzo. The rest were only worth the coin she could extract from them, or else served only as rungs to climb in pursuit of greater power.

This suited her, or so she thought before the painful memory made its unwelcome return. More wine and more carnal knowledge would make it go away again. Even if it didn’t, she would not so easily break the oath she made to herself: she would never let herself fall in love like that again.

It was on that day that she knew, it was on that day that she understood: real darkness wears love for a face, and the first death is in the heart.


« Last Edit: August 22, 2022, 12:52:35 PM by Imperial »

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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #9 on: September 20, 2022, 07:31:37 PM »
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A heat built up inside of her, starting off as a warm feeling in the throat at first, though it would soon spread outwards from there to be present throughout her entire body. It felt comfortable at first, though the heat grew and grew, until it became this searing sensation that overtook all over the senses and had her doubled over in agony. It burned hotter than any flame ever could, as though the last vestiges of her own humanity were being boiled off.

Suddenly, she was surrounded by an all-consuming flame. Sulfurous smoke filled her lungs and she found that she could barely breathe. The flames rose and rose, though a shape could be seen amongst the hellfire that surrounded her. An angel, an agent of law and justice unperverted and pitiless lay perched atop the clawed hand of a massive marble statue, depicting a handsome horned figure holding a ranseur.

Slithering serpents formed from nothing and sprang like vipers towards her ankles. When they sank their teeth in, a venom that burned even worse than the flame coursed through her, and agony sprang enough. She tried to focus through it on the angels' words, on Garythmar the Aspirer's words. There were only a few grains of sand left in the hourglass, and she was squandering them.

The ride back to Barovia haunted her, too. Gone was the sound of wagon wheels crunching down the leaves into the earth, and sundering errant twigs, replaced instead with the noise of crackling flames, sounds not unlike the roar of a well-tended hearth, though there was no comfort to be found in what she heard. The barking of the Vistani driver were replaced with a harsher voice, still shouting, though in a language predating mortal-kind themselves. The whip, of course, could still be heard, though the sounds of the oxen being driven forward were replaced with a broken man's screams, and the sound of flesh being expertly flayed from bone.

She worked to banish these visions away, these waking nightmares, and yet they would constantly return and still linger in the back of her thoughts. She came to dread slumber, for fear that she would spirited away to the place the visions had shown her and never return. She resolved that it would be different for her. She would not be a slave in this place, but instead one of its queens. She would be different. She would be the punisher, not the punished.

She had to be.





« Last Edit: September 20, 2022, 07:33:10 PM by Imperial »

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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #10 on: October 11, 2022, 05:27:21 AM »

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FIAT IUSTITIA RUAT CÆLUM



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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #11 on: October 16, 2022, 02:03:08 AM »
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”Do. Not Neglect. What is Ours.”

The warning was heard loud and clear. Those mortals who could stand against her, who would stand against her, were not a matter of concern — at least for the moment. Not seeing the mercenaries that she brought to bear given their due could jeopardize everything, however. Her patron seeks both its destruction and the inquisitor’s, and yet that simply wasn’t feasible, at least at present; she would have to see it properly appeased with payment for services rendered.

Perhaps it was folly to have tipped her hand to the sellsword in front of others, but her position remained secure; if anything happened to her, if they acted, she would surely save her. The bond she had given almost everything to see forged was continuing to be actively cultivated by her, and it would stay cultivated and made to deepen. It was fertile ground; the seeds were ripe to be planted, and what beautiful fruit they’d produce in the long run.

She was the key, but that nevertheless did not keep her from expanding her influence and making it grow elsewhere. Her newfound pet had gone above and beyond with proving her worth, and allies and clout have been found in the most unexpected of places.

The way ahead remained fraught with peril, and yet she only stood to gain when the die was finally cast; they would stay weighted in her favor.



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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #12 on: October 29, 2022, 09:59:18 PM »
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Tasting the grapes of Vor Ziyden,
Galloping proudly for over years score,
Trampling o'er most treacherous adders,
T'was vaunted line of fair Vinator.

Yet the stallion's power was fleeting,
His coffers full, yet his luck proved poor,
Thus the promising vine was snipped early.
The proud steeds doth canter no more.

Arturo did spy a fair damsel,
Neither jewelry nor bauble she wore.
As his covetous wife did spurn him,
This woman he would come to adore.

The damsel did return his affections,
A solemn secret! Discretion, he swore.
Yet Arturo would break his own vows,
Where it mattered, toothless to his core.

Jealous spouse did learn of the other,
Arturo neither begged nor implored.
Instead his erstwhile lover was hunted,
Chased to the very ends of the Core.

Months later, Arturo would be at his villa,
A rap upon large oaken door.
Man and wife would move to go answer it;
Their lives would soon spill on the floor.

Tasting the grapes of Vor Ziyden,
Galloping proudly for over years score,
Trampling o'er most treacherous adders,
T'was vaunted line of fair Vinator.

Yet the stallion's power was fleeting,
His coffers full, yet his luck proved poor,
Thus the promising vine was snipped early.
The proud steeds doth canter no more.



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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #13 on: November 29, 2022, 05:44:43 PM »


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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #14 on: December 01, 2022, 01:12:08 PM »
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Roxana felt wounded; she felt betrayed. Is this what it felt like? It stung, and her guts felt like they had been tangled and tied up in knots.

It was meant to be the eve of her triumph. She had them eating out of the palm of her hand. She intended to offer them up as gifts to her patron… and yet she showed no interest, no desire to receive them, not while the forces of chaos lurked in their midst.

The truths passed down from generation to generation were all she knew, all her family knew… and yet in the back of her mind, she started to doubt, to question… and yet everything hinged on retaining her favor… or did it? The price was paid, the agreement reached. Once everything was in order, once her position was secure and beyond reproach, could she not see the yoke placed upon her cast instead upon another?

No. She needed to banish these thoughts. She would not let its rhetoric influence her and pull her from the straight and narrow. She would HAVE a plan.



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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #15 on: December 10, 2022, 09:25:30 AM »

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"It is better to be feared than loved, if one cannot be both." - Niccolo Machiavelli



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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #16 on: December 18, 2022, 02:41:11 PM »
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Roxana nestled herself closer to her beloved as they lie together in the hay, bathing in the afterglow of their shared moment of passion. Thinking of it now, every part of the memory caused her pain. Her recollection of how he smelled, the rakish and mischievous smile he wore alongside those warm and welcoming eyes... it all just hurt now, but.. what caused the most anguish were his words, burned into her mind.

"Your father has plans for you, I'm sure... plans that have nothing to do with me, but... we can write our own story, Roxi. Us. Together. We don't need the rest of the world, or their approval. We need only each other."

There was nothing of his that she held onto. No cameo with his face painted in, nor any of the rings, plain as they were, that he gifted him. When she was forced to flee Borca, she had to do so quickly... and she reasoned at the time that she only could take what she needed. In her mind, there was no room for sentimentality. In hindsight, it is clear that she believed that by leaving all his gifts to her behind, his hold on her from beyond the grave would weaken.

The opposite turned out to be true. It was like a wound that was left to fester and necrose. She entreated with the thing, begging for it to cut away all those memories of him, acting as though she just then realized she left all those baubles that reminded her of him behind... but it was no accident. It was a conscious decision on her part, something she had done on purpose. The thing saw through her lies.. and Roxana looked down, her lips curled in an expression of self-loathing.

"We can shape our own destiny, Roxi. You and me."

Their new life together was meant to start a month after she heard those words, and yet destiny is not so easily shaped by mortals. Roxana Barozzi's fate had been chiseled in the stone generations prior, with the accord her ancestor saw struck. From the day she was born, she was doomed. Damned. Forsaken by Our Guardian or whatever good there could be found in the world. For her, there was only the way forward; her fate was sealed, her soul was blackened and to be claimed when her time was up, and yet there were good works and deeds she could see wrought, with all her power. Lives that would be saved, livelihoods restored. She would not let them stand in her way.

She wondered what Lorenzo would think of her now. She often did... and yet perhaps she did not need to. Lorenzo was a good man. A decent man, in spite of his rakish nature. He would despise her, just as much as he loved her back then; just as much as she hates herself, now.



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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #17 on: December 27, 2022, 07:54:51 AM »

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Roxana slept well for a change, but rest did nothing to soothe the anger that had been gradually building up within her since early yesterday evening. The stirring from her slumber felt like the awakening of some ancient caldera, stirred from long hibernation and roused to something great and terrible…

She held dark fantasies driven by spite of destroying what had worked for months to build. If they sought to sabotage her, then what obligation did she have to try and save them from what they would otherwise endure? Let them die trying to take those fortified positions, let them have their short-lived moments of glory, before the reality of things set in and they come to recognize these as their final seconds. Devoid of heroes, devoid of villains… just a desperate mass of humanity trying in vain to survive before the end comes. She longed to see these sanctimonious champions of good die, alongside these contemptuous aristocrats and their loyal sycophants, their bodies strewn about haphazardly across a battlefield, slowly picked apart by the crows.

At the same time, however, she knew she could not see her work undone, nor her plans for Falsonno thwarted. Deep down, she hoped the lives saved and the lives made better would wash away the black mark left on the soul she went and signed away; she dreamt, perhaps hopelessly, that it would scrub away her original sin, and the countless sins that followed.

Perhaps she was deluding herself, and perhaps this was her own way to justify all she had done this far. Perhaps this was her dressing up her own vainglorious pursuit of legacy and she’s no different from the rest of them… and yet, the question that would keep arising is, if none of this was done in pursuit of some greater good, if the dream of a new order for the Core and, indeed, all that lies beyond it is a lie she just kept repeating to herself, just what and who was all of it for?



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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #18 on: January 07, 2023, 08:42:58 AM »

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The ride there was silent, lonely. Months before, a long trip like this would at least have Julio perched on Roxana’s shoulder, making wisecracks and quips, yet that night her only companion was a deafening silence. She missed him. She welcomed the dawn when it came, for it signaled the end of the stars’ judging gaze down upon her.

It was time to get to work. Once the work started, it was not long after that the wooden battlements and fortifications that surrounded the encampment were engulfed in flames that burned with a heat not of this world. She could feel the heat sear even her when she drifted too close. Arrows were loosed and sent flying down from the adjacent hill to where she stood; they shredded and punctured her toughened skin… and yet she remained undeterred. She remained focused.

The dwarves made for a tunnel they dug to escape from the flames. As fire raged all around her and arrows rained from the sky, Roxana began to slowly drag a boulder over to transform their place of refuge into their tomb. She heard their screams as they burned and their hacking coughs and gasps as they asphyxiated; Roxana thought that for a time, they sounded like her father…
 


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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #19 on: January 13, 2023, 10:39:36 AM »


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It was now her fight to either win or lose. The stakes could not be higher.

If she won, she would be hailed as a heroine, one of Borca’s champions in the annals of its storied history, a mythical figure spoken of in the same breath as Lech Cosco or Leo Dilisnya… perhaps even in the same breath as Yakov Dilisnya. What they whispered about her now, in the present, would not matter. History is penned by the winners. She would be lauded as a savior by scholars, whilst her foes and rivals would not receive even a footnote.

Of course, to lose here meant death and Roxana’s greatest fear: what came after death. The settling of things. Her judgment, her almost certain condemnation. The bill suddenly coming due, just as it had for her father and his father before him. Their offer sounded tempting. Part of her longed to be free of the gilded yoke she wore, and yet she could not so easily cast it off. Not without undoing her work, not without giving up everything.

A thought to entertain when the work was finished, perhaps. How delicious it would be for it to find its servant has become its master…

 


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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #20 on: February 02, 2023, 06:23:48 AM »

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She did not wish to use it. It has become clear enough where playing with fire has gotten her… and yet inaction ill suited her, especially in the face of the carnage and brutality she had witnessed. Would she stand idly by and place her trust in others to see this through?

She couldn’t bring herself to do so. What of her men? What of those who still yet lived? She had an obligation to them.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and these were desperate times. The fools can balk and shun me all they like… they can keep their hands nice and clean while she plunged them into the muck.

Idealism has no place on a battlefield. Thus, she would entreat with the mercenary one last time…

 


Imperial

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Re: ⛧ The Diabolic Match - Roxana Barozzi ⛧
« Reply #21 on: February 04, 2023, 04:00:55 PM »

































FIN.