Shaitan

Shaitan the Executioner

"He commands, and I obey"
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Hushed whispers fill the cathedral, armor clunking heavily as Shaitan drags the deserter to his knees before the Mórrígan, the bloodstained Goddess of War sitting upon her throne, and her guardian, Goliath, standing right beside her. Shaitan and Goliath's eyes meet, a silent message passing between them. A deep blush stains Shaitan's cheeks, thankfully hidden by his helmet, before he's able to return his expression back to impassivity.

The murmurs silence when the Goddess stands from her throne of metal and bone, three blades levitating around her, prompting the head priestess forward with a bow, a sword held up in offering. The Mórrígan delicately plucks the offered weapon from the fae and steps towards the kneeling prisoner. Placing the tip of her sword under the deserter's chin, tipping his head upwards she forces him to meet her eyes the blades hovering, spinning languidly around them awaiting judgment. The Goddess sneers, displeased by what she sees, slipping her sword down the coward's neck piercing it and shooting the hovering blades forward impaling the deserter. Blood pools upon the polished floors, forcing Shaitan to avert his gaze else be blinded by the light he sees within the Goddess through his faceted eyes, as her skin is further stained a bloody red. The Mórrígan passes along her sword and the crowd bows their heads as the Priestess begins prayer to the Goddess.
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"Come with me" the whispered words sent shivers down Shaitan's spine as Goliath presses him against the wall. The darkness he sees deep inside the Guardian's soul is enticing, promising grandeur and eternity. Shaitan is very much aware he's being used. That the man in front of him doesn't care for him, not truly, at least not in the way Shaitan cares for him. What the man is planning is treason of the highest degree, but Shaitan is weak and those words weren't a request.
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Shaitan hums while sharpening his cleaver, the screams of outrage with an underlying hint of fear music to his ears.

"YOU TRAITOR! You'll never get away with this! The wrath of Mórrígan will strike you down!" The priestess shrieks with fervor, tied to a makeshift altar made of stone.

Shaitan rolls his eyes and heaves his cleaver towards the priestess' neck, ending her pathetic wails and gospel, her head rolling along the floor. May her blood stain the Goddess' skin.

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- Iceluoxue