Patience…
Patience…
Patience…
It had been eons for him, and yet, he was always told to practice patience. During that time, he had learned the craft that was needed in order to survive in this realm. He had moved up the ranks, through one means or another, always striving to make himself stronger.
Patience…
And now, patience had paid off.
Through the fault of an old, arrogant, dragon, a tear had come that would lead to the world of the living. And that tear would lead to the power which he desired…
Pearl Mountain
Moderator: Tasslehofl Momus
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Rael Ashen
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 10
- Joined: Sat Jun 18, 2005 11:42 pm
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Rael Ashen
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 10
- Joined: Sat Jun 18, 2005 11:42 pm
The progress to recruit for the army had gone better than planned. It would seem that there had been more willing souls that wished their revenge on the living than he had planned. Good… very good. It would take less time than he thought in order to prepare for the coming battle.
Yes, he had failed to mention that the war which they were about to ensue was with the dragons. Why bother the dead with little details such as this? What was it for him to care if their souls would be totally forfeit? After all… he was only using them.
He had not bothered to try and keep his plans secret. He knew that there were many who would flock to the chance to exact revenge to those still on the living plane. That, and he wanted the Elder Demons to know of the planning… that which he made public at least. Oh yes, there was much that was taking place behind the veil of secrecy. What good General did not have his secrets, after all? He has spent eons getting to where he was, and there was no point changing the tactics which he had aspired to perfect in so doing, just because he was going to war with dragons.
But the two elder dragons still played on his mental strings. He had known that the eldest was beyond reach. That was good. The less of their kind the better. But it was the younger of the two that had troubled him. His mark on the other side of the tear had changed. It still flared just as brightly, if not more so, but there was a change in the texture of it. Almost as if… no, if the dragon was dead, he would know about it. It must be only that this younger dragon knew of the problem at hand and was preparing for it.
Ahh, but then to think of the other problems which the dragon had to contend with. Oh yes, he had listened carefully to the murmured whispers of the dead on the 6th level. They had talked of their banishment, and the power behind it. They had talked of the blade which delivered that banishment… and the books which encased the power of the last king who had destroyed their lives. That would be a prize worthy to take. It would be one of his objectives once the war had come to begin. In the chaos of the war, things happened, after all. Who’s to say that these little items wouldn’t go missing in the night and their home burned to a tasty crisp?
Fire… to live in those flames… the flames that would soon encompass the peaks of the wretched mountain the dragon had left the tear upon. The cold that assailed him when he stepped through the tear was a tremor of delight. There would be none who would come to pester him there, because there was none, with the exception of the two elder dragons, that could. But, he knew their marks, and it was simple enough to slip back through the tear and vanish in the Hells before they had made their appearance.
War… ahh, the fun of it. And soon, it would begin.
Yes, he had failed to mention that the war which they were about to ensue was with the dragons. Why bother the dead with little details such as this? What was it for him to care if their souls would be totally forfeit? After all… he was only using them.
He had not bothered to try and keep his plans secret. He knew that there were many who would flock to the chance to exact revenge to those still on the living plane. That, and he wanted the Elder Demons to know of the planning… that which he made public at least. Oh yes, there was much that was taking place behind the veil of secrecy. What good General did not have his secrets, after all? He has spent eons getting to where he was, and there was no point changing the tactics which he had aspired to perfect in so doing, just because he was going to war with dragons.
But the two elder dragons still played on his mental strings. He had known that the eldest was beyond reach. That was good. The less of their kind the better. But it was the younger of the two that had troubled him. His mark on the other side of the tear had changed. It still flared just as brightly, if not more so, but there was a change in the texture of it. Almost as if… no, if the dragon was dead, he would know about it. It must be only that this younger dragon knew of the problem at hand and was preparing for it.
Ahh, but then to think of the other problems which the dragon had to contend with. Oh yes, he had listened carefully to the murmured whispers of the dead on the 6th level. They had talked of their banishment, and the power behind it. They had talked of the blade which delivered that banishment… and the books which encased the power of the last king who had destroyed their lives. That would be a prize worthy to take. It would be one of his objectives once the war had come to begin. In the chaos of the war, things happened, after all. Who’s to say that these little items wouldn’t go missing in the night and their home burned to a tasty crisp?
Fire… to live in those flames… the flames that would soon encompass the peaks of the wretched mountain the dragon had left the tear upon. The cold that assailed him when he stepped through the tear was a tremor of delight. There would be none who would come to pester him there, because there was none, with the exception of the two elder dragons, that could. But, he knew their marks, and it was simple enough to slip back through the tear and vanish in the Hells before they had made their appearance.
War… ahh, the fun of it. And soon, it would begin.
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Rael Ashen
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 10
- Joined: Sat Jun 18, 2005 11:42 pm
Riverbend...
Oh yes, he knew that she had come to spy on the realm which her previous mentor had condemned. He had watched her as she stepped onto its plane, shaken from an encounter she swore never did. One’s mind was the most powerful thing to create fear. There was nothing that he could induce that her mind would not better. No, the mind was the ultimate fear.
Fear… oh, to taste it. Her fear was ripe, but controlled… for now.
He rested upon the stone that lay near the tear, and quietly watched as she finally returned to her body and lingered there within the mausoleum. She wanted to stay; he could feel her need ripple through the fae. Oh, she would have her chance to come and rest in her hell, he would see to that… but that time would come of its on will.
He knew she would once more walk to the tear and inspect it. Hers’ was a curiosity born of danger. She was reckless in her curiosity. Good.
He pulled the heat that radiated from his body deep within, cooling the air that flowed around him. He would let her come, and let her see the simple elf that sat there. She knew his name, so that too would need to be changed, as well as all the other distinguishing features so that he would resemble that hated race. It was a simple enough trick, and one which the mind readily accepted. Present those with what they want to see, than they will see it.
He sat, transfigured, and waited. The elven high mage waited. Ashen waited.
Fear… oh, to taste it. Her fear was ripe, but controlled… for now.
He rested upon the stone that lay near the tear, and quietly watched as she finally returned to her body and lingered there within the mausoleum. She wanted to stay; he could feel her need ripple through the fae. Oh, she would have her chance to come and rest in her hell, he would see to that… but that time would come of its on will.
He knew she would once more walk to the tear and inspect it. Hers’ was a curiosity born of danger. She was reckless in her curiosity. Good.
He pulled the heat that radiated from his body deep within, cooling the air that flowed around him. He would let her come, and let her see the simple elf that sat there. She knew his name, so that too would need to be changed, as well as all the other distinguishing features so that he would resemble that hated race. It was a simple enough trick, and one which the mind readily accepted. Present those with what they want to see, than they will see it.
He sat, transfigured, and waited. The elven high mage waited. Ashen waited.
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Alais d Nitesong
- Expert Adventurer
- Posts: 861
- Joined: Sat May 15, 2004 11:52 am
- Location: Matlal, Riverbend, I' Taurn or Nitesong, depending on time of year
- Contact:
Encounter
I turned from Morrin's effigy to glance at the rift, and there sat an elf. I nearly jumped out of my skin at his unexpected presence.
There was something not right about his appearance, as though he were using a glamor, or other altering magic. I finally found my voice, "Mayst Ah ask yer name?"
His presence within the mausoleum should not have been possible. It is a dead realm, so the apparent elf had to have been from the Hells somewhere.
For the briefest moment, I wondered if this might be the elusive Rael the 'Others' murmured about. As we regarded one another, in that moment a cold shiver rippled down my spine.
There was something not right about his appearance, as though he were using a glamor, or other altering magic. I finally found my voice, "Mayst Ah ask yer name?"
His presence within the mausoleum should not have been possible. It is a dead realm, so the apparent elf had to have been from the Hells somewhere.
For the briefest moment, I wondered if this might be the elusive Rael the 'Others' murmured about. As we regarded one another, in that moment a cold shiver rippled down my spine.
Lady Alais d' Arma Graham d' Nitesong Sidhe
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Rael Ashen
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 10
- Joined: Sat Jun 18, 2005 11:42 pm
He sat and watched her for the longest of a second, for time had no meaning to him, and in that single tick of a clock, he could weight the soul. Hers was a strong one, but one that could be broken. He would enjoy the game should be present.
It was time to start that game.
His voice was musical, singing with the sound of the hated Eldar. Yes, his mother was of that race. They thought that they were strong, but they were nothing more than weak, pathetic tools. Yet his voice held none of that hate, none of that anger. It was pure musical, and his tone was simply that of a frightened child.
“Forgive my startling you. I’ve been trapped here in…” his hands swept around him, indicating not only the place, but the idea of the place, “for what seems almost an eternity. Caught be one of…” his shudder spoke volumes “…by one of them. It was only through their arrogance that I was able to escape. You wouldn’t know what it cost me to find out that there was one who could traverse between this… this Hell, and home.”
He stood then, and pushed himself away from the stone which he sat. He never once gave the hint that he knew anything of the tear, nor of anything else around him. After all, he only knew of where to go to find the living that could traverse the veil, not the manner of the place which it was.
“My name is Ashen.” It was safe to use that name… none in Hell knew it, for it was a name long since dead. “I don’t suppose you could help me?” His voice was shaking and the look on his face was one of pleading. He needed her help.
It was time to start that game.
His voice was musical, singing with the sound of the hated Eldar. Yes, his mother was of that race. They thought that they were strong, but they were nothing more than weak, pathetic tools. Yet his voice held none of that hate, none of that anger. It was pure musical, and his tone was simply that of a frightened child.
“Forgive my startling you. I’ve been trapped here in…” his hands swept around him, indicating not only the place, but the idea of the place, “for what seems almost an eternity. Caught be one of…” his shudder spoke volumes “…by one of them. It was only through their arrogance that I was able to escape. You wouldn’t know what it cost me to find out that there was one who could traverse between this… this Hell, and home.”
He stood then, and pushed himself away from the stone which he sat. He never once gave the hint that he knew anything of the tear, nor of anything else around him. After all, he only knew of where to go to find the living that could traverse the veil, not the manner of the place which it was.
“My name is Ashen.” It was safe to use that name… none in Hell knew it, for it was a name long since dead. “I don’t suppose you could help me?” His voice was shaking and the look on his face was one of pleading. He needed her help.
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Alais d Nitesong
- Expert Adventurer
- Posts: 861
- Joined: Sat May 15, 2004 11:52 am
- Location: Matlal, Riverbend, I' Taurn or Nitesong, depending on time of year
- Contact:
Meeting Ashen
When at last the surprise visitor spoke, it was with the music of her ancestors. A voice of such melodiousness it could only belong to one of the Eldarie.
"How did you arrive here? Which one of the 'others' brought you here? This is my home, and I have never seen you within the walls of Riverbend or Annara."
The Annarans would never kidnap a child of the Eldar. It simply could not happen. However, there were so many levels of hell, the child could have been dumped here by anyone or anything.
"Yes, I can go between the worlds, but where do you call 'home' child?" I studied him closely, and I could not help but feel that the image I was seeing was altered, magically so, and that shiver of cold dread tickled along my spine once more.
He gave his name as Ashen, and his voice shook as he looked up at me with pleading and expectation. How could I leave the child in Riverbend? But I could not take him into Matlal either.
"Ashen, I cannot take you with me right this moment. I must return to a place you cannot go, but I will do what I can for you here until I can return." There was a flicker of something dark for the briefest moment, but it was gone so quickly I may have imagined it. "You are safe here in Riverbend. No one here will harm you."
I rose to depart from Riverbend.
"How did you arrive here? Which one of the 'others' brought you here? This is my home, and I have never seen you within the walls of Riverbend or Annara."
The Annarans would never kidnap a child of the Eldar. It simply could not happen. However, there were so many levels of hell, the child could have been dumped here by anyone or anything.
"Yes, I can go between the worlds, but where do you call 'home' child?" I studied him closely, and I could not help but feel that the image I was seeing was altered, magically so, and that shiver of cold dread tickled along my spine once more.
He gave his name as Ashen, and his voice shook as he looked up at me with pleading and expectation. How could I leave the child in Riverbend? But I could not take him into Matlal either.
"Ashen, I cannot take you with me right this moment. I must return to a place you cannot go, but I will do what I can for you here until I can return." There was a flicker of something dark for the briefest moment, but it was gone so quickly I may have imagined it. "You are safe here in Riverbend. No one here will harm you."
I rose to depart from Riverbend.
Lady Alais d' Arma Graham d' Nitesong Sidhe
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Rael Ashen
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 10
- Joined: Sat Jun 18, 2005 11:42 pm
He had sat there, and watched the elven women vanish before him.
A cold smile spread across his lips as he let the hated form leave his body. It was bad enough that he had to endure some parts of being an elf... it was quite another in matters of actually appearing as one.
A seed had been planted. That was all that was needed. He would nourish that seed until the time was ripe for it to break and grow.
Ahh, yes.
One must not forget the new players to this chess game. It would seem the old dragon was marshalling his allies. Good. Let them come. It would be best to be rid of the lot of them in one simple stroke. The new additions would not hinder his plan. They merely proved to be a side enjoyment.
The undead of the 6th level were almost ready. Each day that passed, each whisper that was uttered to them brought them closer to the edge. They hungered for something that was upon the old dragon's islands. Some books.. but what use were books? It didn't matter, he would look into these just as he would look into the rumor of some kind of special sword that was there as well.
Time.. it was all simply a matter of time. Eons had passed just to get to this point.. what was a few more days.. weeks.. months? They would pass in a blink, and then the time would come.
The question was.. what to do with the three elves that were on the islands...
A cold smile spread across his lips as he let the hated form leave his body. It was bad enough that he had to endure some parts of being an elf... it was quite another in matters of actually appearing as one.
A seed had been planted. That was all that was needed. He would nourish that seed until the time was ripe for it to break and grow.
Ahh, yes.
One must not forget the new players to this chess game. It would seem the old dragon was marshalling his allies. Good. Let them come. It would be best to be rid of the lot of them in one simple stroke. The new additions would not hinder his plan. They merely proved to be a side enjoyment.
The undead of the 6th level were almost ready. Each day that passed, each whisper that was uttered to them brought them closer to the edge. They hungered for something that was upon the old dragon's islands. Some books.. but what use were books? It didn't matter, he would look into these just as he would look into the rumor of some kind of special sword that was there as well.
Time.. it was all simply a matter of time. Eons had passed just to get to this point.. what was a few more days.. weeks.. months? They would pass in a blink, and then the time would come.
The question was.. what to do with the three elves that were on the islands...
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Rael Ashen
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 10
- Joined: Sat Jun 18, 2005 11:42 pm
The smile he wore grew. His energies were finally released, and the stone that surrounded him in the elf’s sarcophagus roared to a red glow. She, nor that guardian of hers, had realized that he had been there. Good… very good.
Upon entering, she had setup wards to protect the two from anything outside. She did not think to protect herself from anything from within. It had been so tempting to reach through the stone while they both laid prone, and take the elf’s body, to leave her with nothing when their souls returned. It has been so very tempting. But no… it was best to play with her a little longer.
He had seen many other pathetic individuals play with their pray, and in the process, got bitten. He would not fall to that trap. He was patience with his games. More patience than any of the ones that came before him. His patience was part of how he was able to acquire the position which he now held.
Another part was his ability to rile those that followed you into a frenzy beyond which they were normally capable of. He could still hear, and feel, the hatred that flowed all around him. It brought a smile to him. Soon, the time would come for the army to move. An army that spanned beyond even the scope of sight in this realm.
He rose slowly, leaving scorch marks in and through the stone as he did so. She would know that he had been there. Good. Standing, once free, he walked over to the wards which she had placed up. In their haste, she had left them up. The were good… twisted. They were not pure to the elf. No, they held…something. Stepping closer, he reached out and placed a finger into the ward. He could feel it wrap around his extended finger, and the burning commenced immediately. His smile grew as the feeling intensified. But he was not here to play the sadist. He focused on the wards itself. It was elven in nature, but it was twisted with…with… His eyes widened and the smile that twisted his lips grew. It was twisted with the magic of this land.
Oh… this would be fun. It was easy enough to twist those of this land and the magic they lived with. Would it be the same with this elf? He smiled and took a step through the ward, feeling the fire engulf him. This indeed would be interesting.
Upon entering, she had setup wards to protect the two from anything outside. She did not think to protect herself from anything from within. It had been so tempting to reach through the stone while they both laid prone, and take the elf’s body, to leave her with nothing when their souls returned. It has been so very tempting. But no… it was best to play with her a little longer.
He had seen many other pathetic individuals play with their pray, and in the process, got bitten. He would not fall to that trap. He was patience with his games. More patience than any of the ones that came before him. His patience was part of how he was able to acquire the position which he now held.
Another part was his ability to rile those that followed you into a frenzy beyond which they were normally capable of. He could still hear, and feel, the hatred that flowed all around him. It brought a smile to him. Soon, the time would come for the army to move. An army that spanned beyond even the scope of sight in this realm.
He rose slowly, leaving scorch marks in and through the stone as he did so. She would know that he had been there. Good. Standing, once free, he walked over to the wards which she had placed up. In their haste, she had left them up. The were good… twisted. They were not pure to the elf. No, they held…something. Stepping closer, he reached out and placed a finger into the ward. He could feel it wrap around his extended finger, and the burning commenced immediately. His smile grew as the feeling intensified. But he was not here to play the sadist. He focused on the wards itself. It was elven in nature, but it was twisted with…with… His eyes widened and the smile that twisted his lips grew. It was twisted with the magic of this land.
Oh… this would be fun. It was easy enough to twist those of this land and the magic they lived with. Would it be the same with this elf? He smiled and took a step through the ward, feeling the fire engulf him. This indeed would be interesting.
Malchor Arcturus was dead but that didn't mean he was stupid. He approached the General with practiced fear that was uncommon to him. In life he'd been one of the most feared Generals in the Annaran military. He had led dozens of campaigns slaughtering any that stood against him. He didn't leave the slaughter to his soldiers either, he had reveled in the feel of warm blood as it spilled from the bodies of his fallen foes. Despite his past depredations, despite all his years in hell, he had been unprepared for the agonies inflicted upon him by Rael the first and only time he had challenged his authority. He would not make that mistake again, dead not stupid.
As he approached Rael was looking out over the plains that were now filled with his horde of undead and demons of every description. Malchor stepped up next to him and saluted, "Your army is ready General. At your command we will begin, it will be good to taste battle again."
As he approached Rael was looking out over the plains that were now filled with his horde of undead and demons of every description. Malchor stepped up next to him and saluted, "Your army is ready General. At your command we will begin, it will be good to taste battle again."
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Rael Ashen
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 10
- Joined: Sat Jun 18, 2005 11:42 pm
His eyes continued to scan the horizon as Malchor approached. He was well versed in the matters of war, and much like himself in the desire for power. But power was not everything. He would need to learn that one day.
However, Malchor's bloodlust was unmatched by any but himself. It showed in his approach.
"Your army is ready General. At your command we will begin, it will be good to taste battle again."
Rael shifted his gaze to look at his second. "Sound the march, and let us bring absolution to all who stand before us."
The time had come to let waiting pass.
However, Malchor's bloodlust was unmatched by any but himself. It showed in his approach.
"Your army is ready General. At your command we will begin, it will be good to taste battle again."
Rael shifted his gaze to look at his second. "Sound the march, and let us bring absolution to all who stand before us."
The time had come to let waiting pass.
Malchor signaled one of his men down on the plain and a horn sounded, followed by another and another as the call to march was passed on throughout the horde. Malchor watched for a moment feeling the familliar stiring in his blood and with a downward slash of his hand a huge gateway split the air out on the plain. The demonic forces surged forward towards the gate. The world of the living called them onwards and they thirsted for their long awaited vengeance.
Malchor watched for a moment and turned back. "Our scouts report that the elf is not at the manor and it is lightly defended. The gate opens directly onto her lands. We will have secured the area within the hour milord. If you can spare me I would like to join my troops on the field. The blood calls." Rael nodded and Malchor transported himself to the gateway. He stepped into the land of the living once more to bring blood and death.
Malchor watched for a moment and turned back. "Our scouts report that the elf is not at the manor and it is lightly defended. The gate opens directly onto her lands. We will have secured the area within the hour milord. If you can spare me I would like to join my troops on the field. The blood calls." Rael nodded and Malchor transported himself to the gateway. He stepped into the land of the living once more to bring blood and death.
The gateway openned on a small hill over looking the farmland that stretched out to the south west of the elf's home. Malchor stood on the crest of the hill reveling in the death and destruction. The screams of dying dragons mingled with that of his own warriors in a magnificient symphony of battle and blood.
The dragons had responded to the assault quicker than he expected but it he wasn't particularly concerned with casualties anyways. His forces had already set fire to the small village and he could see the collectors moving through the buildings even as the battle continued to rage around them. The collectors were gathering the souls of the fallen dragons before they could escape. It amused him that their own fallen would provide him the power to defeat their magics. Across the fields his troops had brought down several of the dragons but one continued to defeat his troops, even several of the demons that flew against him had been defeated. Garl.
Malchor recognized the elf woman's protector from the reports his spies had provided. He watched as the raging dragon flew strafing runs scattering his soldiers and killing ever more of them as Garl danced his gracefully deadly ballet. Malchor smiled as he summoned his mount to him. The nightmare snorted as Malchor mounted with lazy grace and the two launched into the air to face their foe.
The undead forces attacking him backed away and Garl scanned the area quickly. He alone had survived the initial brutal assault and now he could see a single figure astride a demon steed calmly awaiting him to join the battle. Garl snarled, his body was covered in small wounds and he'd seen too many friends die this day. This must be the one that led these monstrosities to his home. He dived at Malchor roaring his defiance and launching a devastating stream of fire to envelop his opponent. Garl pulled up short though. Malchor hadn't moved, in fact he didn't even appear to have been touched. Even on the dragon's reptilian face the disbelief was almost comical. Malchor laughed derisively and charged the dragon. They met hundreds of feet in the air and sword met talons again and again. The two danced around each other as the dead army looked on, ever growing as more and more of the host emerged from the gateway.
Then suddenly it was over. Malchor dodged under a wild swing from Garl and sliced the main tendon supporting the dragon's right wing. Garl plummeted to the ground crushing several creatures too slow to get out of the way. Malchor took his time returning to the ground. The army slowly closed on Garl but stopped at Malchor's command. "No! This one is mine." He dismounted and strode towards Garl.
Garl struggled to rise but he was too weak, he'd taken too many wounds. "You'll regret ever coming here abomination. The dragon lord will make you wish for your hells before he unmakes your very souls."
Malchor smiled cruelly, "Perhaps dragon but you'll not be around to see it. Or perhaps you will." Malchor walked right up to the dying dragon and whispered into his ear, "in death you will serve me and you will watch the destruction of your world." Malchor took a pendant from a large red gem from around his neck and shoved it into on of Garls many wounds. Malchor spoke the words of a spell as he felt the dragon's warm blood wash over his hand. Garl let out a wordless roar filled with agony and despair as he felt his soul be ripped from his body. The army stood silent around Malchor for a moment and then a cheer of bloodlust and rage lifted over the fields.
Malchor basked in the aftermath as he licked the blood from his arm. It tasted sweet, it tasted powerful. Still clutching the pendant he spoke a second spell and the Garl's dead body stirred, rising to stand and flex its wings. The undead dragon bent its knee allowing Malchor to climb onto its back. They took to the air and Malchor watched as his warlocks began to assault the magical defenses of the manor. His troops were ahead of schedule, Rael would be pleased. Their first victory won, this world would fall and he would feast, and when the whole world burned the elf woman would be his. Malchor's laughter echoed over the burning fields.
The dragons had responded to the assault quicker than he expected but it he wasn't particularly concerned with casualties anyways. His forces had already set fire to the small village and he could see the collectors moving through the buildings even as the battle continued to rage around them. The collectors were gathering the souls of the fallen dragons before they could escape. It amused him that their own fallen would provide him the power to defeat their magics. Across the fields his troops had brought down several of the dragons but one continued to defeat his troops, even several of the demons that flew against him had been defeated. Garl.
Malchor recognized the elf woman's protector from the reports his spies had provided. He watched as the raging dragon flew strafing runs scattering his soldiers and killing ever more of them as Garl danced his gracefully deadly ballet. Malchor smiled as he summoned his mount to him. The nightmare snorted as Malchor mounted with lazy grace and the two launched into the air to face their foe.
The undead forces attacking him backed away and Garl scanned the area quickly. He alone had survived the initial brutal assault and now he could see a single figure astride a demon steed calmly awaiting him to join the battle. Garl snarled, his body was covered in small wounds and he'd seen too many friends die this day. This must be the one that led these monstrosities to his home. He dived at Malchor roaring his defiance and launching a devastating stream of fire to envelop his opponent. Garl pulled up short though. Malchor hadn't moved, in fact he didn't even appear to have been touched. Even on the dragon's reptilian face the disbelief was almost comical. Malchor laughed derisively and charged the dragon. They met hundreds of feet in the air and sword met talons again and again. The two danced around each other as the dead army looked on, ever growing as more and more of the host emerged from the gateway.
Then suddenly it was over. Malchor dodged under a wild swing from Garl and sliced the main tendon supporting the dragon's right wing. Garl plummeted to the ground crushing several creatures too slow to get out of the way. Malchor took his time returning to the ground. The army slowly closed on Garl but stopped at Malchor's command. "No! This one is mine." He dismounted and strode towards Garl.
Garl struggled to rise but he was too weak, he'd taken too many wounds. "You'll regret ever coming here abomination. The dragon lord will make you wish for your hells before he unmakes your very souls."
Malchor smiled cruelly, "Perhaps dragon but you'll not be around to see it. Or perhaps you will." Malchor walked right up to the dying dragon and whispered into his ear, "in death you will serve me and you will watch the destruction of your world." Malchor took a pendant from a large red gem from around his neck and shoved it into on of Garls many wounds. Malchor spoke the words of a spell as he felt the dragon's warm blood wash over his hand. Garl let out a wordless roar filled with agony and despair as he felt his soul be ripped from his body. The army stood silent around Malchor for a moment and then a cheer of bloodlust and rage lifted over the fields.
Malchor basked in the aftermath as he licked the blood from his arm. It tasted sweet, it tasted powerful. Still clutching the pendant he spoke a second spell and the Garl's dead body stirred, rising to stand and flex its wings. The undead dragon bent its knee allowing Malchor to climb onto its back. They took to the air and Malchor watched as his warlocks began to assault the magical defenses of the manor. His troops were ahead of schedule, Rael would be pleased. Their first victory won, this world would fall and he would feast, and when the whole world burned the elf woman would be his. Malchor's laughter echoed over the burning fields.
The manor's defenses fell in the early hours of the morning and by sunrise the once fertile farmland that surrounded it had been razed. Newly raised dracoliches and demons had begun the sytematic burning of the forests as the warlocks began to open gateways to various levels of hell to bring forth more of their brethren. Malchor gave each of the new arrivals a choice, they could either join the growing army or go free across the lands as long as they didn't interfere with his armies operations. About half had decided to stay, swelling the ranks of the army even further. The other half he figured he might have to deal with eventually but until then they would cause death and mayhem and further distract and confuse the defenders of this world.
Malchor waited in the entrance hall of the newly claimed manor. His people were currently despoiling the interior and he left them to it. The entrance hall was one of the few places that had been completed so he had chosen it to meet with his visitors. One at a time ten cloaked figures entered the room, they hid their faces in darkness and stayed as far from each other as they did from Malchor. He simply grinned at them. "Welcome Ladies and Gentle-dragons," he scanned the room slowly as he talked. "I wish to...congratulate you on your ability to see the inevitable. All of you have agreed to perform certain functions for my master in return for certain concessions. I have brought you here to seal this agreement." Malchor signalled and one of his servants entered the room. One of the hooded figures gasped. "I see you recognize him. He was a most fortunate addition to my staff." The servant handed out glasses of wine and retreated. "As you can see, we are unstoppable. I expect word of your successes within the week." He lifted his glass, "To victory." They all drank and moved to leave quickly.
Malchor savored the his drink and their fear as they fled with as much dignity as they could muster. He disliked spies but they were a necessary part of his profession. He much prefered honest combat and the spilling of blood but even he had his orders. He wondered if any of them had been able to taste the blood of his master in the wine. Whether they knew it or not they were bound to Rael now. He handed his glass to the waiting servant. "I wish to dine on dragon steak tonight, ensure the cooks find a young one, I will be most displeased if the meat is tough. Oh and prepare the master bedroom and bring me a pair of captives after I have eaten. I wish to partake of all of my old pleasures." He said as he swept out of the hall to check on his armies progress.
"Of course sir," Giles said quietly before continuing about his duties.
Malchor waited in the entrance hall of the newly claimed manor. His people were currently despoiling the interior and he left them to it. The entrance hall was one of the few places that had been completed so he had chosen it to meet with his visitors. One at a time ten cloaked figures entered the room, they hid their faces in darkness and stayed as far from each other as they did from Malchor. He simply grinned at them. "Welcome Ladies and Gentle-dragons," he scanned the room slowly as he talked. "I wish to...congratulate you on your ability to see the inevitable. All of you have agreed to perform certain functions for my master in return for certain concessions. I have brought you here to seal this agreement." Malchor signalled and one of his servants entered the room. One of the hooded figures gasped. "I see you recognize him. He was a most fortunate addition to my staff." The servant handed out glasses of wine and retreated. "As you can see, we are unstoppable. I expect word of your successes within the week." He lifted his glass, "To victory." They all drank and moved to leave quickly.
Malchor savored the his drink and their fear as they fled with as much dignity as they could muster. He disliked spies but they were a necessary part of his profession. He much prefered honest combat and the spilling of blood but even he had his orders. He wondered if any of them had been able to taste the blood of his master in the wine. Whether they knew it or not they were bound to Rael now. He handed his glass to the waiting servant. "I wish to dine on dragon steak tonight, ensure the cooks find a young one, I will be most displeased if the meat is tough. Oh and prepare the master bedroom and bring me a pair of captives after I have eaten. I wish to partake of all of my old pleasures." He said as he swept out of the hall to check on his armies progress.
"Of course sir," Giles said quietly before continuing about his duties.
General Brantius looked over the reports that were spread across his desk. The demon armies seemed to be everywhere. He had reports from every corner of the Isles. Demons and undead had struck villages everywhere and then they just seemed to vanish into the ether. He stared at one of the latest reports wondering how a sixteen foot tall, three headed jackal that slobbered acid could dissappear and, failing to find anything that resembled a good answer, set the report aside to deal with later. Of course then there was Matlal which for all intents and purposes was no longer part of the Isles. The entire island had been covered in a glowing purple dome and anyone they sent in simply disappeared.
Brantius sighed. He needed information to fight this war and it just wasn't available. The entry of his daughter into his study made him smile. She was trying to sneak in as usual. He watched her out of the corner of her eye as she creeped into the room and tiptoed up behind him. Just before she reached him he spun in his chair grabbing her up and setting her in his lap. She giggled at him and he smiled back.
Suddenly his daughters eyes changed from green to burning red and her mouth opened further than it should have been able to. Her teeth were needle sharp as she bit deep into his throat silencing his scream before it began. He died before he realized it wasn't a nightmare.
The thing that wasn't his daughter fed quickly and grew as it did so. Soon there was no sign of blood or a disturbance anywhere in the room. The thing that wasn't General Brantius settled into the chair and began to write orders. He had a war to lose.
Brantius sighed. He needed information to fight this war and it just wasn't available. The entry of his daughter into his study made him smile. She was trying to sneak in as usual. He watched her out of the corner of her eye as she creeped into the room and tiptoed up behind him. Just before she reached him he spun in his chair grabbing her up and setting her in his lap. She giggled at him and he smiled back.
Suddenly his daughters eyes changed from green to burning red and her mouth opened further than it should have been able to. Her teeth were needle sharp as she bit deep into his throat silencing his scream before it began. He died before he realized it wasn't a nightmare.
The thing that wasn't his daughter fed quickly and grew as it did so. Soon there was no sign of blood or a disturbance anywhere in the room. The thing that wasn't General Brantius settled into the chair and began to write orders. He had a war to lose.
Last edited by Malchor on Mon Nov 07, 2005 12:16 am, edited 1 time in total.
Hershal Nornun stalked through the brush. The General had sent them out to intercept a scouting group from the demon armies. They had picked up the tracks an hour before and were slowly approaching the column. His squad had spread out and were to attack on his signal.
The demons were moving unhurridly through the forest. Arrogant buggers. Hershal thought to himself as he released a bolt of electricity into the wagons and charged after it hearing his troops doing the same, We'll teach them to respect the dragons. Explosions sprang up all through the demon ranks and they turned to meet their attackers with magic and steel. He leaped over a fallen log slashing down through the upraised arm of one of the demons. It screamed and fell to the ground. He spun the sword to plunge it into his opponent and stopped. A young girl lay screaming before him, her arm had been severed by his strike. He looked around. The demons that they had seen before were gone, replaced by women and children...refugees. An illusion.
Hershal looked around at his troops who were looking at him in horror. What have I done? He looked down at the dying child and never saw the demons that sprung out of the woods around them. He was one of the lucky ones, he was dead when the demons began to feed.
The demons were moving unhurridly through the forest. Arrogant buggers. Hershal thought to himself as he released a bolt of electricity into the wagons and charged after it hearing his troops doing the same, We'll teach them to respect the dragons. Explosions sprang up all through the demon ranks and they turned to meet their attackers with magic and steel. He leaped over a fallen log slashing down through the upraised arm of one of the demons. It screamed and fell to the ground. He spun the sword to plunge it into his opponent and stopped. A young girl lay screaming before him, her arm had been severed by his strike. He looked around. The demons that they had seen before were gone, replaced by women and children...refugees. An illusion.
Hershal looked around at his troops who were looking at him in horror. What have I done? He looked down at the dying child and never saw the demons that sprung out of the woods around them. He was one of the lucky ones, he was dead when the demons began to feed.
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