11-30-2006, 08:23 PM
?I take nothing for granted, no matter what it may seem. However egotistical and self-centered I may seem, know that in my heart I am careful in the ways I choose to do what exactly I may find myself doing.? King Cold stated, overlooking the crowding band of supremacy. At his grasp was his newfound ability, to revert to a hulking stature and harness the call of heightened prowess. ?I take nothing for granted soldiers, and you shouldn?t either. That?s the foundations behind my style.?
Having been inquired by the soldiers on his hardhearted stance and disposition, he broke it down into the subtlest form he could digress. After all, he didn?t want everyone going around with knowledge of his tactics. Word had turned to epidemic about the camp, their commander Broli?s life at liberty for his valiant actions during this wartime. His strategic genius, alongside that of the preceding monarch of the planet Vegeta, was brilliance. In these six days Cold himself had marched upon two villages alongside his brothers in arms, but he was certain their influence had spread further with the politicking the commanding officers had been achieving behind the closed curtains of the tents.
Strategic points were imprinted in his thoughts, tactical locations and calculated easing of the enemy into a swarm of bluecoats. They would break by submission at the heels of Dante. The Syntech forces crippling had done wonders for the spirits of the soldiers, who bore the very solemn visage of the reaper as they jostled along. King Cold marched amongst them, his eyes set on the towers overlooking the entire field as a drifting wind guided a ceaseless snow upon them. It was light first, but as they began to venture further into Syntech?s territory its passionate downward spiral and blanketing grew. Boots crunched over the inviting cold, the king taking delight with his bare feet guiding him over the blanket of Frost once more. Slowly shaking his head, shaking away the repeated oddities of his personal affairs he shivered. Nothing having to do with the chilly temperament of the cascading snowfall, but in the distance and through the fog of the storm he could clearly make out the erect structure, their next trophy.
An outstretched finger seemed to highlight the lone structure, as when he guided the eyes of the soldiers whose morale seemed to dwindle, everyone suddenly noted its outline amongst the haze of snowfall. They kept it quiet, only their sweeping march perturbed the quiet.
?So, Cold,? One of the soldiers had demanded his attention with his sudden intrusion. Between organizing his misplaced thoughts and conceiving devious strategies the changeling scoffed aloud, his eyes set upon one who hadn?t appreciated the tranquility as he had. ?You think we could do something major, for this one? Something major would always be appreciated, just to take back home. Story to share with mercs who?d fought the war on Vegeta.?
Cold turned away from the soldier, considering his choice of words very selectively. ?I just might be able to do that. Can?t guarantee any promises, but stick by me soldier and I?ll do whatever I can to lead you to conquest.?
?I wonder whose home we?ve come upon.? Cold?s statement questioned no one in particular, his lips splitting from the mislaid achromatic crescent to a grin of poorly concealed zeal. Separating from his brigade, he?d come upon Broli and nodded when the saiyajin acknowledged him with his own. ?Some of us think that after this we should talk.? Cold managed to get out while Broli nodded in a hasty agreement. The konat nodded when Cold?s eyes fell upon him; words had little say in this ordeal.
Having been inquired by the soldiers on his hardhearted stance and disposition, he broke it down into the subtlest form he could digress. After all, he didn?t want everyone going around with knowledge of his tactics. Word had turned to epidemic about the camp, their commander Broli?s life at liberty for his valiant actions during this wartime. His strategic genius, alongside that of the preceding monarch of the planet Vegeta, was brilliance. In these six days Cold himself had marched upon two villages alongside his brothers in arms, but he was certain their influence had spread further with the politicking the commanding officers had been achieving behind the closed curtains of the tents.
Strategic points were imprinted in his thoughts, tactical locations and calculated easing of the enemy into a swarm of bluecoats. They would break by submission at the heels of Dante. The Syntech forces crippling had done wonders for the spirits of the soldiers, who bore the very solemn visage of the reaper as they jostled along. King Cold marched amongst them, his eyes set on the towers overlooking the entire field as a drifting wind guided a ceaseless snow upon them. It was light first, but as they began to venture further into Syntech?s territory its passionate downward spiral and blanketing grew. Boots crunched over the inviting cold, the king taking delight with his bare feet guiding him over the blanket of Frost once more. Slowly shaking his head, shaking away the repeated oddities of his personal affairs he shivered. Nothing having to do with the chilly temperament of the cascading snowfall, but in the distance and through the fog of the storm he could clearly make out the erect structure, their next trophy.
An outstretched finger seemed to highlight the lone structure, as when he guided the eyes of the soldiers whose morale seemed to dwindle, everyone suddenly noted its outline amongst the haze of snowfall. They kept it quiet, only their sweeping march perturbed the quiet.
?So, Cold,? One of the soldiers had demanded his attention with his sudden intrusion. Between organizing his misplaced thoughts and conceiving devious strategies the changeling scoffed aloud, his eyes set upon one who hadn?t appreciated the tranquility as he had. ?You think we could do something major, for this one? Something major would always be appreciated, just to take back home. Story to share with mercs who?d fought the war on Vegeta.?
Cold turned away from the soldier, considering his choice of words very selectively. ?I just might be able to do that. Can?t guarantee any promises, but stick by me soldier and I?ll do whatever I can to lead you to conquest.?
?I wonder whose home we?ve come upon.? Cold?s statement questioned no one in particular, his lips splitting from the mislaid achromatic crescent to a grin of poorly concealed zeal. Separating from his brigade, he?d come upon Broli and nodded when the saiyajin acknowledged him with his own. ?Some of us think that after this we should talk.? Cold managed to get out while Broli nodded in a hasty agreement. The konat nodded when Cold?s eyes fell upon him; words had little say in this ordeal.