Execution of the Enemy of the World

[Aveilthé]

OOC: This is technically between Blitzy and I, but you are welcome to post on this board. That means anyone can post here, but there are a few rules. Please no smart alecy, arrogant characters that try to one-up other characters, and no fighting. Also, Blitzy and I might disregard chronological posting, meaning that we won't wait for anybody. So that means there's no posting order here.

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-The Final Hours-

A bleak sky covered the heavens for miles, foreboding something that the world's inhabitants could not yet understand. Though not a drop of rain fell, a sliver of sun broke through, symbolically saying that peace will soon be restored. Birds of many shapes and sizes traveled far and wide, bringing with them news that the world's enemy has fallen, but not yet dead, and all were welcome to witness his public execution in the foot of the canyons of dark northern lands.

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The threshold of the canyons harbored thousands of creatures, both wolf and noisy-tongued animals. All sported the same behavior, shouting with glee and happiness upon hearing the news that the pale one has been captured and incapacitated. Word has spread that the monster would soon appear on the highest peak of the canyon, where Kratos would hold the execution. All waited with bated breath, excitedly wondering what kind of horrors were in store for the exiled prince.

It was strange, as all these wolves have come here from near and far, neighbors and enemies, all with the same purpose. Perhaps they have heard of Endymion, the revolutionist, the threat, the wanna-be god... Or they were families that have lost dear ones by the pale one's paws. Now his death was nigh, and all organisms could taste it in the air.

King Tartarus sat next to his mate, Queen Diabol. The golden-scaled King looked on at all with patience, knowing that soon his son would appear on the high zenith and commence the ugly deed.

"Dear one," said Tartarus, kissing Diabol's forehead, "he has done it." His expression was unfathomable, but what Diabol may not have realized, was that Endymion was his son too, but with all the hideousness that Endymion has committed that even King Tartarus would frown upon, he still held love for his flesh and blood, no matter what... "But it must be done," he finished quietly, soberly, looking now behind him to see nothing but slabs of grayish stone walls, as if expecting to see Kratos coming thus, taking with him Endymion, who was to die soon.

[sakoru]

The baroness sat motionless by her King and Queen, icy emerald eyes gazing across the rocky expanse of the canyons. Her mahogany fur rippled in the barest hint of a breeze, and she tilted her magnificent head skyward, shifting her gaze to the lovely blue of the sky. The massive horns, arching over her back, speared the air around her shoulders, and a soft sigh escaped her muzzle. Endymion, killer of thousands, destroyer of the peace, was to die today.

Truthfully, she did not know whether she was glad or not that this traitor of Giaku was to die. She admired his defiance, though she hated him for it, for the way he had spurned her pack in favour of destruction and turned his back on what should have been his. He could have been great, she reflected, but he had turned into nothing more than a bandit, a wanton killer (in her eyes) who, though he was powerful, had at last been overcome. The idea of such power going to waste...the baroness did not like it. But this was Endymion, and she would watch him die, at the side of the rulers she loved, with no regrets.

Emerald gaze slid once more from the sky, only to curve over to the canyons where Kratos would later bring Endymion forth. A quiet sigh escaped her muzzle, and she spoke quietly to herself, curling her tail around the curve of a stone behind her.

"So it has come to this."


This was the only day on which members of the Shinkou and Akeru packs could safely enter into Giaku. And this Sho-un, powerful and part-metal, took advantage of it. He only wished it was to kill Endymion himself.

Steel, he was called, though he had borne another name once. Endymion had slaughtered his parents and caused the half-Rauroc to lose a leg and part of his face. Oh yes, he wanted to watch the pale killer die, although he wished that he, Steel, was to execute him. He could almost taste the blood in his mouth, though he was usually a gentle beast.

But now, he moved deeper into the lands of Giaku, metal claws scraping on the stone as he made his way to the canyons. At last he reached them, and joined the ranks of wolves gathered around the place of Endymion's soon-to-be death. Closing his non-mechanical eye for just a moment, Steel took a breath, then forced his way through the crowd to appear between a pair of screaming wolves near the front. Another tried to jostle him, but the heavy creature simply dug his three-and-a-half-hundred pound frame into the ground, and the wolf gave up.

And he waited.




Glittering, shimmering like a hundred thousand black diamonds, the dragon winged her way down out of the sky. Her jet scales shone in the daylight, and she lit down upon a spire of rock, high above the rest of the congregation. Silhouetted against the pale blue of the sky, she half-furled her wings, and gazed down upon the crowd below, laughing softly. So many creatures gathered here to watch another die. How sad.

They all hated Endymion. She knew they did - they were screaming for his death, many of them - but she, the hell-dragon Mirdyr, was here simply to watch blood flow. She did not care about the crimes he had committed; she did not care about the wrongs inflicted on anyone below her.

Curling her tail about the spire, Mirdyr flicked her gaze over the crowd, searching for faces she knew, and found many. Many of them hated her, though they hated Endymion more. She, too, had killed their families, yet she loomed here, high above them, and they ignored her, for now. How sweet. How very, very sweet. She was in no danger, and yet a mighty Druin would be slain here, before her, and bring the sweet scent of blood to her. What a perfect, beautiful day.

[/center]

[blitzkreig]

There was an atmosphere, one so odd it seemed morbidly joyous. With somber eyes of blue, the white Queen sat alongside her mate on an upraised spire, thrones of some sort, her maw inclined towards a more upward platform amongst the cliffs. The spot in question was like a stadium of sorts built of the natural cliff face with much room all around for a gathering of epic proportions. The Giaku royalty saved this court only for the most grand of shows and oh had the gathering ever been grand. Her eyes followed around the walls where demons and wolves of all sorts gathered. Even other creatures, animals not of the wolven world, and outsiders from lands far and wide.

And all of them had come for him.

Diabolic looked up at Tartarus, a bestial king seated just to the side of her and conveyed a look of mixed satisfaction and worry in those deathly sapphire depths. And the great Druin leaned downwards and touched her forehead lovingly with his nose. When he spoke she felt a shudder. It was as though he was trying to console her but somewhere deep inside she knew her mate was attempting to console himself. His son was killing his son. Diabol though could feel little remorse.

There was a noise from the clifftop, a creature announcing the entrance of a name she knew all too well. Diabol felt her spine tense with anticipation, her mouth drying as the excitement and bloodlust hit her like a ton of bricks.

"It's beginning.."

There was little rest for the wicked. Kratos drew in the air of the bright summer day, the sun glistening off of his sleek black coat which was now pitted with still fresh wounds, just having only scabbed. They covered his body and the way the prince moved was almost slightly labored. Well the horn held in his paw and the immense body dragging behind it might have explained the strain. But his face was steely, harsh glare of the executioner glimmering fresh on the edges of his eyes. Blue eyes, like his mother. Kratos did not even think about Endymion's own mother as he dragged the pale one's carcass towards the edge of the cliff.

There stood twin poles spaced a certain length away from one another and on each a thick chain and shackle dangled. They were rusting with age and old bloodstains but there was a purpose to them today.

So many had turned out on this day, this strangely glorious occasion. Kratos grunted to himself and dragged his semi conscious brother out to the edge of the cliff. A silence fell upon those collected and Kratos stood there upraised and drew in a deep breath of triumph. He could feel their collective eyes silently calling for death and the electric rush of adrenaline pumped excitement flowing through his body. He dropped Endymion none too gently, allowing him to slump there, bleeding and broken.

"Your so-called God!" He did not even have to yell, the canyons acted as their own amplifying system, boosting the acoustics and his voice bounced harshly off of the smooth rock faces.

[Aveilthé]

His single glassy, dead red eye looked on, peering at nothing in particular. The other was devoid of any eye, or magic. But as one might look upon his body, would perhaps either recoil in shock or disgust at the vile thing, broken and torn, bleeding and dying, all remorse forgotten. For who could ever feel sorry for a thing no longer recognizable?

And thus his body was tossed down, where he bounced once before falling cold and silent on the canyon rocks, so that all may see his unholy ugliness. Words could not describe him; it looked as though the King of Darkness in the Underworld himself gobbled the fallen white one down, chewed him up and carelessly spat him back out in distaste.

Endymion could vaguely hear the world outside of his ears. They did not interest him. All he knew is that he is in intense pain, and desired nothing more than to be released from that pain. But then he would never see his Moria again...

A quiet flame burned in his chest, which ached so much that he lifted his quavering head and issued a soft whine that nobody could hear, except perhaps Kratos. That was when his eye focused and saw the thousands gazing back at him, screaming and jeering, and those with wings rose up and threw things at him. His head recoiled, then fell weakly, letting those objects dent his neck and break his teeth.

It has come to this, thought Endymion, suddenly realizing his position. I have killed so many that it should have made the god of war envious, and now they have come to witness my death. God forbid if I look remotely distinguishable...

Breathing shallowly, Endymion's eye blinked once then moved to gaze upon Kratos, hovering some where above him. That dark monster had a certain satisfaction about him, that Endymion thought his half-brother truly deserved.

[blitzkreig]

So many had come from far and wide, and Bia herself found she had not been apart of such a movement so grand in her entire life. Unless you counted the strange things she had encountered in their trip to the past, the war and the warriors. And this Druin whom she had come to know.

Maybe she would never know the truth, but something in the pale female urged her to come here beyond any reasoning she could find in her mind. Maybe it was the morbid idea of such a grusome spectacle. Maybe it had been because she felt she owed the great, pale Druin something after they had traveled to the past as a sort of mismatched team, not that he had helped them all that much. So what was it that brought here to the best area of viewing she could find so she could witness the death of a creature many sought the fate of.

Her eyes, one flaming red, the other a pale greenish blue glittered as she watched as suddenly he was dragged out before everyone assembled by an equally as large and imposing Druin. Bia was sure she remembered him from when she had saved Endymion before, and the sight of him excited a kind of pang in her heart which she did not understand.

Was that pain? Why? She bit her tongue and waited as shouts and jeers rose up in the crowd.

The voices rose suddenly in response to his single, mocking sentence towards the heap of pathetic bones and flesh laying beside him. Up there before everyone he felt like some sort of crowd warmer, someone up there to get the screams flowing and the blood rushing through their veins. Soon they would be shreiking for his live to be squeezed from him with Kratos very own paws. As they jeered and yelled he looked down at his worn pads for a moment as if examining them.

A whimper.

Kratos looked down, his attention torn away from his own thoughts by that single, pained and utterly contemptible sound eminating from Endymion's throat. The black druin let out a growl and nudged him solidly with his hind foot, hoping to knock the air out of him. "Shut up and reap what you've sown, Endymion."

Again Kratos raised himself up on his hind legs and looked out before those gathered, his mother and father just below watching with bated breath. "There is little I can say.." Kratos hated public speech. "But as I string up, Endymion I do ask that my father come up and say anything needed to be said."

He lowered himself and stalked back to Endymion. "Upsy-daisy." Straining once more he grasped the pale Druin and brought him to a slumped, seated position. Taking each arm he secured a shackle to his wrists. A few hoists on the chains on either pole before securing them as well and Endymion was pulled up until he was forced to stand on his hind paws, almost tip-toe with his arms spread eagle, beckoning the world to give him their best shot. Kratos growled in appreciation of his handywork and moved so his father could join him.

[Addykins]

He was part of the pack and so he felt the need to watch one of it's traitors die. He had made his way past some jeering wolves and was just able to catch some of Kratos's words. Pushing forward more so he could see better Arroyo growled at a wolf to busy jeering and yelling at the pale Druin to get out of his way. He sat down once finding a comfortable spot to watch the show and a small smirk found its way upon his maw. The pale Druin had been raised by Kratos, arms spread wide for all to see him. Arroyo really didn't have anything against Endymion but he found it curious that one who claimed himself a god would be brought down and was waiting for his death here in this place. His pink tongue slipped from his black jaws to caress a small scabbed wound earned only a few hours earlier. What fun Rinayrne and he had created. His golden orbs glanced around to see if he could spot the Princess but his attention was dragged back to the Druin of the hour.

He looked nothing like a god and the way the crowd was going Endymion was definitely not favored by anyone. He wondered briefly if all the wolves here had been wronged by Endymion, or they just wanted to see what would happen to him. He had seen some wolves not from Gaiku yelling beside those from Giaku, each one too intent on mocking the beaten Druin to care who stood next to them. Interesting how one so hated could bring two enemies together. He wanted to laugh but instead he merely looked up at the already half dead Druin. "So, what is it like to die?" He murmured quietly up at Endymion, but of course he wouldn't hear him.

On the far side of the makeshift stadium a newcomer walked between a few smaller wolves who simply gave her a look before turning back to snarl or yell at the Druin already slung up in chains. Another Druin stood besides the white one, a darker one. It was like Ying and Yang, black and white. She hadn't a clue whom stood besides the white one, but she knew who the one to die was, Endymion. She had heard a few things of him, how he was a wanna-be god and he had killed countless people. A few wolves glanced her way, raising an eyebrow at her size. She was a Druin, but she stood at a mere 5ft. Bigger than most but still dwarfed when it came to the other Druins watching intently for Endymion's death. Her long furry mane swayed slightly as she continued to walk closer to the platform holding Endymion and the nameless Druin. When she did finally stop she stayed standing, craning her head up to look at the spectacle above. She raised a dainty hand-like claw to idly itch at a green scale lining the under side of her neck and belly. Her shorter ears listened intently to those around her, trying to catch names or deeds that Endymion had done.

Her green eyes glanced over to a great golden Druin sitting at the perfect spot to watch the execution and then at the white wolf that stood beside him. She frowned slightly as she tried to put names with faces. She had heard of Gaiku and the golden Druin must be Tartarus while the other wolf, Diabol. King and Queen of Giaku. The interested died though as she moved her gaze back to the main event. The other Druin, the black one that she had gathered to be Kratos, called for Tartarus to speak to the crowd. She was silent in the crowd of screaming wolves. It was then that she sat, her long tail wrapping around her front feet to keep from having anyone step on it. Her green marked face turned to the golden Druin again, listening intently. Her long furry mane blew in a small breeze, the few green strands standing out in the sea of black. She raised an eyebrow while waiting for Kratos to end Endymions life. On with the show.

[Kiroro {D.evil's A.dvocate}]

Rook silently shifted his weight as the crowd around him jumped, howled, screamed, spat, and mocked the white beast, Endymion. Rook knew Endymion from horror stories, but never did he think that the White God would be brought before him. The only Druin Rook had ever met was Zion, a smaller more peaceful Druin. But Kratos and Endymion were enormous masses of muscle and sinew, covered in scales. "He deserves to die... but what will it help? I cannot bring back the lives that have been lost by his hand. Why not enslave him, make him a pariah? Torture him, spit on him, imprison the beast." Rook spoke softly, his ears laying back in an uncomfortable manner.

He was in a very good spot for the execution as far as seating went. If there was a so such thing as a 'splash-zone', he was surely in it. Although he was still a good ways away from where the traitor was shackled, Rook thought that something as large as Kratos could fling blood to even the highest parts of the canyon. "Now we wait..."

"Kill the traitor! Burn in hell, Endymion! You bastard! You bastard!" Fiasco was screaming, laughing, jumping around in sheer joy. Her maniacal yet sexy voice rang loud with the others as they jeered. Her blood-lust was growing and she couldn't stand the wait. She felt as though her appetite for death was growing with each passing second.

"You're mocking the traitor? Isn't THAT the pot calling the kettle black." Vex laughed, his voice rumbling inside if Fiasco's head.

"Shut up Vex. This is different." Fiasco assured herself and her entity, eagerly awaiting the bloody execution.

[sakoru]

Another traitor stood in the canyons this bloody day, though most did not recognize her. She was not notorious, she was not a wannabe god, but she was not loyal to anyone, either.

She gazed up at the pale druin, hanging lifelessly from the shackles above her, and clenched her jaws together so hard that they cracked. The glorious horns which erupted from her head, almost like the baroness', accidentally poked another wolf standing next to her, and a short fight quickly broke out. Amanita simply hooked the creature under the belly and tossed him away into the crowd, ignoring the shouts of anger as he landed on several other wolves.

This was Falorin's sister, daring to enter the lands of Giaku once again. She did not come to watch the pale one die; she did not come to see Endymion tormented and humiliated. Though she said nothing yet, she came to give him her respect, whether he saw it or not. They were boh traitors - one infamous, one not - and the half-Besheika looked up at him, heart wrenching in frozen sorrow that someone so formerly powerful, so formerly beautiful, had to die. Yet she did not dare make a move to help him, for what would happen then? Kratos would execute them both, and make two spectacles instead of one?

No, Amanita would not rise to Endymion's side, though she dearly wished to. She had not personally known him, but what of it? He had dared to break the law, defy his family, and set out for himself, albeit in a more violent manner than she had.

Closing her emerald eyes for just a moment, Amanita Ban-Sidhe bit back angry tears, and then looked back up at the druin in the shackles, hoping that maybe he would see her, that maybe he would see he wasn't hated by everyone. A feeble, foolish, stupid hope.

"Oh, Endymion..."




The druin's expression, as she stood motionless behind the congregation, was unreadable. With her seven feet of height, she could easily see over most of their heads to Endymion, the white terror who had roamed these lands since before she could remember. His nearly-dead body, hanging there as rocks, dirt, and other things were pelted at him, made the black creature's heart grow still. Yes, he had killed, and yes, he was a traitor. But no one should die like this.

Sekhmet's long tail writhed behind her in cold fury, knocking over several tall stones. She didn't notice, so wrapped up was she in the indignity of Endymion's execution. Indignity had run rampant when her father died, too - called a coward, and a fool, and many other things. Kratos standing there, dark as night with his fiery markings, made her remember all too well the day Ra died.

She snarled.




Falorin watched emotionlessly as Kratos strung up his half-brother for all the world to see the wreck he had become. The baroness flicked her gaze over the crowd, only to find an all-too-familiar set of black-and-white horns curling over a sienna-hued back. Emerald eyes darkening, she growled softly, ears stretching forward in anger before she returned her attention to Endymion. The little bitch below her would have to wait.


Steel's heart began to race as Endymion was lashed to the metal posts, standing there in all his defeated ugliness as the crowd began to throw things at him. The Rauroc cross, though he did not scream or throw objects, growled, and pushed his way closer to the front, wondering what Tartarus, invited by his son, would have to say.

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[Aveilthé]

Indeed the air had been ushered fast from Endymion's mouth as Kratos kicked him hard, so that he rolled over once. Now he was facing the other way, seeing nothing but a vast, barren canyonside, where he was raised...

King Tartarus looked on grimly to Kratos, his son, that had said words to the quieting crowd. Tartarus understood that he had his part to say, too. When permission was granted to him, he rose, lifting his head high, his multiple crown of horns glittering gold as his dark face appeared in the sun. He leaped onto the rocky platform of which Kratos had stood, and fixed his eyes upon the thousands of eyes looking back at him.

Only too suddenly did Endymion feel himself being pushed upward, and weakly, he had no choice but let himself be hoisted up by strange, tinkling cuffs, bearing his arms upward. Next thing he knew, he was being dragged higher and higher, until he felt the ground leave him. His ears had not even the strength to lift in order to hear the booming baritone voice that belonged to King Tartarus that had uttered words soon after Kratos's.

"We have all gathered here today for a common reason," he began, his voice, like Kratos's, soft, but somehow magnified by the stretch of canyons reverberating his voice hither and thither. "Strange how the tides have turned this day, when Shinkou, Akeru, and Giaku all meet for one purpose, miraculously setting aside our differences to look upon this conductor of unimaginable evil for the last time. Thus I welcome you all, even the inhabitants of Shinkou and Akeru, and their neighbors, our brothers and our sisters, our mothers and our fathers, grandparents and cousins, friends and enemies, all here to witness the execution of a creature we know as 'The Enemy of the World'. Look upon him, all, look how he has been beaten! Prince Kratos, the defeater of the enemy shall be hereafter known as the greatest hero of our time, to throw down such evil! Celebrations will be conducted in Kratos's name, and the whole world shall know his victory!"

He paused to allow a multitude of shouting and howling of assent to occur. Meanwhile, Endymion grunted loudly as horrendous pain shot up his spine. He felt the weight of gravity push his body down, nearly dislocating his arms from his shoulders. Words were uttered towards him, but he could not hear them. He dared to look up, and the sun blinded him, but he saw figures of wolves dancing on wings before him, shouting insults and throwing things still, things of which he accepted by force. His breathing became laborious; it hurt to breath. Yet every breath now was precious, for he knew his time was coming. All his thoughts were now bent on counting each breath intake.

"He is my son," Tartarus continued quietly, looking at them all with pained eyes, "one of which I am ashamed to admit that he is of my flesh and blood. He is no son of mine now, for he had wronged us by killing our youngest daughter, Phobos!" He gestured to Queen Diabol. "Thus I end my speech by turning to Kratos, and telling him..." Tartarus turned his head and looked upon his son with an unfathomable expression, his voice echoing strong and harsh. "Make him feel the same pain that we all have known by him."

King Tartarus swiftly turned from Kratos and the audience, returning to Queen Diabol's side. Satisfaction reigned over his expression, but also, sadness. "My only disappointment is that when he dies, he will go in to the burning underworld, where even the black fire is not enough to eternally punish his loathsome soul," he murmured quietly to his mate.

[blitzkreig]

He had settled back, directing his eyes to the ground as the king came up to join him atop the cliffside. It was not out of respect, no, Kratos would never feel much of that for his father, nay it was more out of thoughtfulness, pondering still while he could. Reflecting over the death that was soon to be on his paws. In the death of his sister he had taken up the mantle of an executioner, a service of private revenge for his family. Still there would always remain the questions that had never come to his mind of just how their hatred had come to be long before Endymion overstepped the boundaries and ended the life of Phobos. Of the conflicting forces between Endymion and Kratos that had existed since their birth to existence in this meager world.

Kratos shuddered silently as Tartarus said his sister's name, and continued to stare gravely at his paws, waiting as he listened to the tick tocking countdown in his mind. A life was ending here today, it's time here on earth drawing to a final and ill-dignified close strung up before hundreds of those who hated the very molecules from which he was constructed. And the crowd was then passed back onto Kratos who took it without so much as a nod to his father.

There was another object near to the pillars holding Endymion spread eagle before his captors and Kratos sidled over to slide his paw into the smoothed handle of a gnarled, serrated instrument. He tested the things weight and sharpness on his paw, gave it a small swing. The thing fit easily in his hand, made to be a single-pawed instrument of carnage. What this was though was a special instrument only constructed in Druin clans. The horns of a Druin are fabled to be super dense and almost impossible to break, and thus the most effective weapon against them is another horn.

The tool in Kratos paw was a thick handsaw constructed of a Druin horn. He stood before Endymion, head bowed from weakness and single eye blearily gazing out at the crowd hissing, booing, spitting and venom. "To decrown a king," he said coldly and roughly he grasped one of Endymion's already shattered horns. With the other arm he began to work the saw, biting into his half-brother's horn and splintering it to tiny fragments as it bit and tore with thick teeth. The movement was jolting and probably would have caused the pale one a deal of pain as the saw tore into the tender nerves that reached up into the bases of the horns.

A pale gray hunk of Druin horn thudded to the ground at their paws. He went to work on the second.

[Addykins]

He sat and listened to the golden Druin as he spoke. Arroyo was still silent as the other wolves started to calm to listen to Tartarus speak. Not interested in the Druin's words Arroyo looked again for the fast Druin that had found him just that day. Of course he couldn't find her again and by the time he bothered to look at Tartarus he had finished speaking. Golden eyes shifted to watch Kratos as he picked up a tool and raised it to Endymion's horns. At this Arroyo winced, for him losing one's horn is worse than death. His ears lay flat against his skull as he watched one of Endymion's horns fall to the ground. His gaze turned back to watch Kratos hack off another of Endymion's horns.


The female gave Tartarus her full attention. Her black head was raised as her ears flicked forward. He spoke of Endymion's death bringing the wolves of Shinkou, Akeru, and others, together but Seiko wondered for how long would the peace last? Would the Shinkou wolves be able to leave Giaku after Endymion was dead? Or would there be fights after the pale Druin dies? Truly the female didn't care but the thoughts raced in her head none the less. When Tartarus was done speaking Kratos stood and picked up a small tool and from where she was Seiko couldn't truly see what it was. It wasn't till the first horn fell that she raised and eyebrow. Seiko couldn't truly feel anything about having ones horns cut because she had none. She felt no indignity to have them cut or shame or whatever other Druin's would feel when having their glorious horns cut.

Sieko stood passively while Kratos cut Endymions crown of horns off. Other wolves around her where screaming and yelling and it was getting quite annoying. She gave an impatient sigh, would he just kill him already so the wolves would stop screaming in her ear? She flattened her ears to her head while watching the horns that were previously on the pale Druin's head fall to the ground.

[twilightsshadow]

A small creature was not sitting on Sekhmet's back. The strange beast was indeed not a wolf in any sense. Nor was it even clear as to whether it was male or female. The creature had a long tail, outfitted with a long flag of a man on the bottom. It could stand on two legs, and had visible arms however thin they were. It was laying on Sekhmet's back, crawling up till it's head rested on hers. The creature was quite a bit smaller then her. In it's right eye, a clock was ticking, and it could plainly see the clock that appeared when it looked at Endymion. Could plainly see that remainder of his life. The creature knew, knew how many more minutes he had to live. How many more seconds. Tick tock went the clock.

"Aaaah......Oooooh?"

The creature murred. It was clear, however strange the creature looked... That it was still a baby. The den of negative emotions that had built up in this place had attracted it, and now, it wanted nothing more then to enjoy the subtle insanity that was spreading through the crowd.

Amatsu yawned as he stumbled onto the scene without any sense of grace or importance. He was walking with an apple in his jaws, one of a few he had pilfered from the garden that he had a hand in creating. He saw Endymion and truthfully. They had never really met before. Sure, he'd heard of him, but he didn't care. So he killed a few people. So had Amatsu. Amatsu and Tartarus together had torn through rows of shinkou shoulders like weeds to a weedwacker.

"Pretty big turnout for this.... Disgraceful. Makes me wonder whos side i'm on after all."

He muttered to himself, coming to stand next to Sekhmet as well. He noticed the little creature that had positioned itself on her head, watching as it jumped to his. He didn't pay it much attention, merely wondered why a baby... Whatever the hell it was would even be here.

[sakoru]

Tartarus' speech was a long one, and good. But it evoked no feeling in Amanita, aside from the chilling knowledge that she, too, could one day face a fate like this, albeit not as public. The Besheika cross shivered as she watched Kratos pick up the handsaw, then put it to Endymion's horn and begin sawing. As the wedge of missing horn grew, the traitor's green eyes flickered, and she jerked involuntarily, cringing. How it must feel to lose those beautiful, broken horns...her throat constricted at the very thought of losing her own horns.

He was defeated, yes, captured, yes, but she could not help but be amazed at Endymion's fortitude, not to fight back. How could he endure such agony, such indignity, even if he was beaten?

In all truth, the idea horrified Amanita. She shied away from it as a deer might shy from a pack of wolves - and how fitting the comparison was, she thought dryly. It evoked the need to get away from this horror, although she wouldn't leave entirely. No, instead the half-breed sprang nimbly through the crowd of wolves about her, pushing wolves out of her way and flinging them with her horns if they wouldn't move. In general, she was causing quite a ruckus.

This was when, heaving another weighty creature out of her way, Amanita struck someone's warm, scaly leg. With a growl, she drew back, only to glance up at a druin she had once known, for some time.

"Amatsu Mikaboshi. Been a long time, hasn't it?"




Sekhmet watched the decrowning of the world's tyrant with little emotion, although her heart still raced with anger as memories of Ra's death drifted through her mind. She dug her paws into the ground, snapping someone into a rock with her wildly thrashing tail, and then noticed the presence crawling up her neck and onto her head. With an irritated snarl, she whipped her head up and sideways, horns nearly banging against another druin's.

Another druin? There were far too many of them around here, she thought. Practically banging into them no matter which way she turned. At any rate, she heard the murmured comment, sharp ears picking it up even in the din, and she flicked her gaze sideways with a cool nod.

"Not just disgraceful, either. Disgusting. Sickening isn't too strong a word."

The black druin's purple eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the other, a male, who of course stood three feet higher than her own vibrant self. Nearly half again her height, she thought, but that didn't stop her from speaking to him. She hated other druins, but since this one apparently felt similarly about this situation, well...he couldn't be too terrible. Or maybe he could, but she didn't care. She had to say something, though she didn't want to scream a big '[grrr]-you' straight to the royalty and turn herself into an enemy of the entire dark pack. Sekhmet liked her freedom, thank you very much.




The black hell-dragon, high above the proceedings, watched hungrily as Kratos began to saw off the pale one's horns. A soft growl of pleasure escaped her maw, and she coiled her tail tighter about the rock spire, eagle-sharp eyes watching with sick delight as a chunk of silvery horn fell to the ground. She leaned lower over the crowd, though her body was still fifty feet above the rest of them. Wings half-spread, she balanced there, eyes fixed on the hacksaw biting through the white druin's horns.

Oh, how she loved the carnage.

[/center]

[Relairah]

Many, thousands, had come to witness the death, the execution. What else was there to say? There were several, most not even worth mentioning or naming. The regal prince sat above the crowd a bit, on a ledge from the rocks. Eyes like his father's observed both the crowd and his family. The white scales of his body glimmered in the bright sun and the long, teal horse-like hair fell over him loosely. Few thoughts passed through his mind. He had heard the various stories of his half-brother. So hated. So feared. He had journeyed with him for a time. Despite not getting to know him that well... he felt this execution was perhaps unnecessary. Could Kratos not have merely killed him and moved on? Still, Erebus remained silent. As his father delivered the speech, and Kratos proceeded with torturing, Erebus remained silent.

He felt as though he might have learned more from or about Endymion. Was he truly the way everyone said? Erebus had not been present when Phobos' head had been cast before the rest of his family. On hearing such a horror, though, he had been wraught with grief and anger. Thirst for revenge. Yet even now, he wondered if Endymion had killed all those he had in mere bloodlust. Had they each in turn asked for it? He would never know. So he waited. Soon, his death would ensue.




Just like so many others, she stood among the crowd below the ledge upon which Kratos would kill Endymion. How long it had been since last she had lain eyes upon him. Despite her yearning for him, she stood, paralyzed. Even if he looked, he would not see her. No one would. Those banished from Giaku, even they were welcome here this day. No one would care of one measly wolfess among countless others. The two Druins whom she had come to know, the one whom she loved like no other and the other for whom she was grateful and trusting unexplainably. How strange to see them together in such a fashion.

Blue-tinted black fur rippled, though did not have the shine and beauty which she had previously worked for. Her eyes, one creamy white the other dark blue were worn and tired, bags beneath them. Oh, oh Endymion!

How she longed to weep, but in that moment her eyes were dry. Her stomach bulged with the pups soon to come. She was due within a week, perhaps even days. Should she call to him? Should she try and perform some act of salvation in a crazed state? No. It would be futile. Her body slumped. She did not wish for this to be her last sight of Endymion. She had no choice. So she gazed upward and upon him, her mind and heart a chaos of emotions and thoughts, one nearly indistinguishable from the next.




Many a time, he had faced Endymion in battle. He had both hated him and respected him. For a time, Endymion had even raised him... sort of. There was a strange bond which this wolf felt for the great Druin in a sort of love/hate idea. He stood idly, having come to witness his death like the others. Endymion's death was pleasing to him, and yet somehow he wondered if he truly wanted it. He had already gotten his revenge, having fought out his anger at the death of his dear cousin, Arthos. Now, he merely thought of the past and silently laughed. Perhaps the bitch herself was here, somewhere among the mob. Golden eyes glimmered and didn't bother to look for her. "It's about time..." he supposed.

[Aveilthé]

The sun hurt his dirty eye, but he could not look away. He already felt his open flesh baking, and it stung; it was too painful to bear. But the pain was just the beginning.

His head snapped but did not break as Kratos roughly took one of his horns. He saw something glint at the corner of his eye. What was it? Movements were futile as he tried to shove his head away, but weakness overcame him, and he slumped there, letting Kratos force the instrument on his skull.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

He shouted, an otherworldly scream piercing the ears of those near him, then he fell silent as he wept, for the pain in his skull was astronomical. The cut from the horn-knife was too close and hit a nerve, and it bled fresh, the crimson juice rolling down his graying face.

He began to shudder, but he could not yet feel the life slipping away from him. Only when the pain subsided would he know that death was just a blink of an eye away.

"Kill," he muttered laboriously, his pupil growing small as he looked up into the sun, "kill me. Kill me... Kill me now... Please..."

That was when his left shoulder dislodged from his arm and broke, yet the sinew still held them together. He screamed again, weeping pathetically.