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Writer: Scorn
Date Sun Jun 24 15:30:57 2018
To all
Subject The 8th Shard of Seanan.
Archion, a being unlike all others, hovered slightly above the ground
being supported by powerful pink angelic wings. He wore no shirt and no
armor, but his muscular skin seemed to be as hard as thick metal. His arms
were made of fire and where he would have hands were blades of searing
flame. His eyes glowed white and his long golden hair hung flawlessly
behind his human head. A necklace containing a single shard of dark crystal
hung from his neck.
"Let's go already" he stated plainly, as if he were bored.
At once, Fatale, God of Murder charged at him. Swinging a long dark blade,
Archion countered his first attacks with quickness and agility. Twice
Fatale's blade made contact with Archion but twice the being parried it off
with his bare flame arms.
Fatale circled Archion, deciding his next move. From behind Archion
appeared Devion, God of Mischief, with a blade of his own in hand. He
struck the blade into Archion's side and twisted the blade in deep. Archion
expanded his wings with enough force to send Devion flying backwards.
Fatale seeing his chance lunged toward Archion, but Archion countered his
move again and struck the God with his searing blade arm across Fatale's mid
section. Fatale fell to his knees in pain.
Fatale grinned. "Who made you?"
Devion stumbled to his feet. "What are you?"
Archion spoke loudly. "I am Archion. And I am your demise."
Devion smirked "Not likely. I did not stab you with any normal blade."
Archion glanced down at the dagger stuck in his side. He made no
expression.
"You have minutes to live, whatever you are. Hand over the shard and I will
reverse your fate." Devion said.
Archion again looked at the dagger in his side. His flame bladed limb
shifted to that of a human arm with a hand and he grabbed the handle of the
blade and pulled. The dagger only sank in deeper as Archion attempted to
remove it. Bright pink blood began to seep through the wound and run down
his side.
"Do you really think that I will just give you this shard and seal the fate
of my maker?" Archion replied.
Fatale grinned as he stood to his feet. "No, I think you'll just die and
we'll then we'll take it. You lost. You fought long and hard but death is
finally coming for you."
"Your maker? So Nadrik made you? How?" Devion asked in genuine curiosity.
"Not Nadrik. But I am from him, made but from a lock of his hair, given
life by his mother. And I WILL die, but alas, I WILL return. I will be
reborn and I will find the next shard." Archion gripped the shard around
his neck.
"And by then, we'll have what we need to end this silly plan," Devion
replied as he stepped towards Archion.
Archion squeezed the shard in his hand and shut his eyes. The flames from
his left arm began to spread and circle around him into a fiery inferno.
Both Fatale and Devion attempted to walk to Archion but the strange,
magical fire seared their flesh and forced them to keep their distance.
The heat from the flames turned white hot before the shard exploded into
hundreds of pieces with the fragments being scattered high into the sky.
The fire cooled and ended in an instant as Archion collapsed to the ground.
"That was not wise...." Stated Fatale as he approached Archion. Fatale
raised his sword high into the air and slashed it downwards removing
Archion's head from his shoulders. Devion smiled as he walked over and
picked up the being's lifeless head. Studying it, he pulled a fist full of
its golden hair from its head. Devion noticed Fatale looking at him
curiously.
Devion shrugged as if almost embarrassed. "Never know what might come in
handy one day" he said with a grin.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
All across Algoron, fragments of the shard reigned down from the sky.
Within hours, collectors has begin to gather it. The Gods of Evil quickly
dispatched Warlords and Bounty Hunters from each continent. They began to
use all of their resources to gather as many fragments as they could find,
steal or buy. The hunt for the fragments of this shard had begun as the
news of this event was now world wide gossip.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
QUEST:
Find as many pieces of the shard as you can. When more than 250 pieces are
held together, it will attract a Warlord or Bounty Hunter coming to get it.
Defeat them and collect even more. Once all are found, the fragments can be
combined back into 1 full shard.
The player with the most fragments will recieve a special visit to end the
quest.
Writer: Scorn
Date Sun Jun 24 17:51:43 2018
To all
Subject The FINAL shard of Seanan....
Like a giant magnet, the majority of shard fragments pulled the lessor
amounts of shard fragments toward each other, reforming the shard into a
whole piece.
A hand reached down and picked up the shard. A dark cowl covering his face,
no smile or grin was evident. He simply placed that shard along with the
three others in his possession and crushed them into dust.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Austinian stared into space with a blank look upon his face.
Siccara placed a hand upon his shoulder.
"We tried. The mortals tried. We almost had him home," she said.
"I know." Austinian replied, his eyes wet with emotion. "Get everyone
ready. All is not lost. We'll just have to go get Nadrik ourselves, no
matter what the cost. And the cost could be.... Everything...."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
OOC: Evil wins the quest with 312 shard fragments shown with Good making it
close with 276 total shown.
Evil has destroyed enough of the Shards to prevent Nadriks sade escape and
so the story continues....
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The Story Continues: The Gods of Good attack the Dark Moon to resuce Nadrik.
Sunday July 1st at 4pm.
-Scorn
Writer: Scorn
Date Sun Jul 1 18:56:09 2018
To all
Subject The Fate of Nadrik
Devion stood upon this dark and barren moon. Only light from the blue
planet of Algoron and the white and red moons provided light to this side of
the moon. This moon had always avoided the light of the sun, much to the
agreement of the Gods of darkness, all of which were here.
"This place is always so boring," Devion complained. "But NOT today!
Definitely not today."
A dark thundering voice, much too loud for this small conversation bellowed
from the darkness. "They are coming."
"Yes, Mencius, I know..." Devion replied sarcastically.
"Then KILL him now! Allow me!" Interrupted Fatale.
"Why kill him now?" Asked Drakkara. "When he will bring them all to us,
and we can take this opportunity to kill more than just one God?" She
smirked.
A harsh voice from the darkness echoed through the landscape.
"Nadrik will live long enough.. For us to take another one with him."
Black smoked in smoldering flame swirled around violently until it formed
into Necrucifer.
"They will bring their mortal army with them, and so we shall bring ours.
And in the end, I have had the vision that we will take another God of the
Light into death."
A smile creased across Drakkara's face. "If you have foreseen it, then we
all KNOW that it will come to pass. You have never been wrong with your
predictions, not even once! However, it would be helpful to know WHO and
perhaps HOW so that we may be prepared?"
Necrucifer shot Drakkara an angry glare.
"You know the visions are not that specific. Let us prepare. This will be
a moment that we will never forget."
"Couldn't agree more." Drakkara replied before vanishing into a dark cloud.
Devion looked at Fatale's face.
"What the? Are you ACTUALLY smiling?" Devion asked curiously.
Fatale changed his expression to be much more displeasing as his form also
whisked away into black smoke.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Austinian held Taliena's hand on white moon. Beside them stood Kantilles and Taliena.
Austinian and Taliena looked upon their children with forced smiles and teary eyes.
"We will not lose another child," Austinian said earnestly. "I wouldn't even risk you
two, but we have no chance without you. We are outnumbered 6 to 4."
"And Drakkara is particularly is strong on her home moon," Taliena stated. "We will get
Nadrik and then we will leave as soon as possible."
Kantilles took his turn to speak.
"As you all know, there is a way to swing her grip of power on that moon. And we must rely
on the mortals for that. We can die there, but mortals can not. But for each evil life
they take upon the moon, the power will swing to our favor."
"And for each one their mortals take, so the power will swing to them," Siccara added.
"Then let us hope the side of Good will do what needs be done. My faith is, as it has
always been, with them. We will win this day," Austinian said.
Taliena placed her hands upon her children's shoulders. "Remember, if we make it to Nadrik,
he alone is our prize. Let us not waste time on revenge. That time will come."
Austinian opened his arms and hugged each being. "Open the portals. Let us begin this.
And no matter what happens, know that I love each of you with all of my being. And if we
must fall, allow me to be the first."
Writer: Scorn
Date Sun Jul 1 19:39:00 2018
To all
Subject The Fate of Nadrik (Early results)
The Gods of Good advanced through the Black Moon towards Nadrik. The
forces of good had dominated the battle early on, giving the Gods of good
greater power and taking some away from Drakkara.
"This is not going well, my dear," Drakkara snapped at Necrucifer.
Necrucifer bellowed loudly, shouting at Drakkara. "I am well aware, and I
trust my vision. We will meet them head on here and we will finish this.
Trust in me as you always have."
Writer: Scorn
Date Sun Jul 1 19:55:18 2018
To all
Subject The Fate of Nadrik (Mid Results)
Nadrik was shackled upon his knees, in the same unbearable stance that he
had been stuck in for near a decade. His head and wrists were bound in
rocky stocks made from the black moon itself. He never seemed to run out of
blood, and Devion made sure that it kept flowing. His time and torture upon
the black moon had made him a shell of a being. He no longer spoke, he no
longer complained. He simply existed.
Standing around him stood all six Gods of Darkness.
Necrucifer spoke. "When they get here, I want Austinian and Taliena to look
upon their child's face one last before we take his life. Devion, you can
do the deed. In their despair, we will strike at them and kill as many as
we can."
"I WANT TO KILL NADRIK!" Mencius bellowed. "IT SHOULD BE ME!!"
Devion looked put off. "Fine with me. Quite frankly, I'm bored with it
all. I'll happily stand back and fight."
"So be it," commanded Necrucifer. "Strike hard, strike fast."
"I am losing power. The forces of Good are dominating our followers! Kill
him now." Drakkara protested.
"We WILL stick with my plan. Remember the vision." Necrucifer said
irritated.
Writer: Scorn
Date Sun Jul 1 20:38:49 2018
To all
Subject The Fate of Nadrik (Conclusion)
Austinian approached with Taliena, Siccara and Kantilles at his side.
Necrucifer stood and stared at him.
"Brother... Allow me to present, your son, Nadrik." Necrucifer said
mockingly.
Siccara rushed towards Nadrik, but Mencius put his blade to Nadriks near
lifeless neck. She stopped immediately and looked to Austinian for
guidance.
"What? You're not going to THANK ME for keeping him alive?" Necruifer
mocked. Austinian looked upon Nadrik with a deep sadness. He began to
respond to Necrucifer, but became overwhelmed with emotion.
"Ahh. At a loss for words, are you brother?" Necrucifer said. "You sure
had a lot to say when you turned mortals against me! You were at no loss of
words when you declared yourselves higher and mightier than the rest of us!
Your tongue was never tied each and every time your hypocrisy diluted my
influence! You take our son away from us and you hide him and turned him
against us all and you had plenty of words during all of that!"
Austinian collected himself. "I have words. Very important ones. Take me
for him. Exchange his freedom for my life. Declare this war over and allow
Taliena and our children to live in some sort of peace and you can have my
life as your revenge. And may it calm whatever form of vengeance that you
seek."
Necrucifer looked amused. "Oh how predictable. I don't like predictable.
If I did, I wouldn't do this...... Mencius.... Kill Nadrik now." Mencius
raised his blade and slashed it down towards Nadrik. The blade struck a
fountain of blood, but Mencius did not feel the blade go cleanly through.
He raised his blade again and slashed it down hard.
"NO!! PLEASE NO!!" Austinian yelled.
As the blood fell from above Mencius's blade, Mencius paused as the
realization hit him that he had not struck Nadrik at all. Siccara had
rushed to Nadrik and had taken the force of the blade into her shoulder
almost cutting her in half. She managed to weakly raise a hand as a white
light begin to glow.
She looked to Austinian and weakly whispered "I will not lose another
sibling...."
"PLEASE DON'T!" Yelled Austinian.
Realizing what was happening, Mencius slashed his blade down again hard,
ripping Siccara into two halves. The white light from her hand began to
grow and burn as hot as a star. What was left of her flesh was being seared
apart, as was Mencius.
"The God sacrifice spell! Sister, no...." Kantilles cried out.
Taliena rushed for Nadrik, wrapped her arms around him and disappeared.
Kantilles placed a hand upon Austinians shoulder and the two vanished away
as well.
The burning light enveloped Mencius as he screamed in anger. His body being
ripped apart from Siccara's spell.
Necrucifer tried to walk closer to the star, but found the heat unbearable
as well. He turned to flee.
"Let's move!" He yelled at the remaining 5 Gods of Evil.
As he turned around, Drakkara stood beside him.
"We will move," Drakkara said. "We will move on without you."
Drakkara, still having great power on her moon, shoved Necrucifer into the
bright burning light. Necrucifer reached out a hand towards her as his
being was torn into nothingness.
The small star collapsed upon itself, leaving 3 less Gods in existence.
Writer: Scorn
Date Sun Dec 9 19:47:26 2018
To all
Subject Drakkara, Queen of Darkness
The Black Moon had always been empty and silent. In recent times, not
even the remaining 4 Gods of Darkness came there since the Drakkara changed
the course of history with her betrayal of Necrucifer. The once powerful
army of Darkness was in disbelief, some were even in rebellion or civil war.
Prominent leaders and powerful wizards had used the recent chaotic events to
declare open rebellion against Drakarra and did so unchecked and
unchallenged.
For most of the world, the Black Moon was always silent. The white and red
moons displayed themselves brightly while the black moon was hidden from the
naked eye. Only talented magic users could see it and they tracked its
power along with all of its predicted movements.
That made today unique. The black moon was visible to everyone, even
through the daytime. As night time approached, the black moon glowed with
an eerie purple ring eliminating around it.
Bodrum, Wizard of the Black Robes sat in his study within the black tower.
Looking at his daily scrolls, he had not noticed the presence inside of his
study until the slender pale white hand caressed his shoulder.
"You've been a bad, bad boy." Drakkara said playfully. "And to think you
could lock me out of my own tower? Tsk tsk."
Bodrum tried to speak but found his voice unwilling to work.
With a smirk, Drakkara placed a finger over her lips. "The only words you
will say will be your repentance. Until then, only your screams will work.
Consider yourself lucky, Necromancer. I'm not letting you die just yet. I
require an example!"
With speed unlike Bodrum had ever seen, Drakkara ripped the still living
head from his body. She then waved a hand at his midsection, cutting it in
half. She smiled as Bodrum began to scream, all parts of him still alive
and in agony.
Near the entrance of all three towers of magic, a monument arose from the
ground reaching a height of 40 feet. All three monuments had an opening at
the top which poured a green acid type liquid constantly. At the top of the
black towers monument was Bodrums head, full of enough life to do nothing
but scream constantly. Near the white tower was a monument where Bodrums
bottom half was hung as a display, his legs kicking and twitching nonstop.
Near the red towers entrance was Bodrums upper section, constantly clawing
and flailing about.
Through the acidic liquid flowed various body parts into ground. Upon
hitting the ground, the parts formed into various living dead creatures, all
rising to kill anyone near them.
All three monuments bore the words up he monuments: "Drakkara, QUEEN of
Darkness reigns. Repent or die."
Writer: Scorn
Date Sun Dec 9 22:14:55 2018
To all
Subject Drakkara, Queen of Darkness (2)
Drakkara sat opon a throne.... Her throne... A large chair made out of
dragon bones and angel wings.
The demon bowed to Drakkara in complete obedience. "Your will...?" It
hissed.
"My will is for you to explain the new way of this world. Can you handle
this?" Drakkara replied sternly.
"Of coursssse! Most of the news outlets work for us," the demon replied.
Drakkara grinned.
"Very well. I will make this simple. It has always been my destiny to take
control of the Darkness. I have always known that I would strike against
Necrucifer at his first sign of weakness. And trust me, he WAS weak. We
have suffered under his leadership far too long. I have done this. I have
won. I am the Goddess of Darkness."
"And the tower?" The demon asked.
"Don't be absurd. They had their fun and now I have shown that my hand
should not be forced. If this message does not work, I will strip them of
their power until they understand without question where their power comes
from. Now, with that being said, let it be known that for ANY worshipper of
evil, I will accept them as my loyal followers with ease and without
punishment. But above all else, they need to understand that I have
absorbed ALL of Necrucifers power. And I do not intent to waste it as he
did sitting on my hands and losing a war! This is a new era for our side
and we will not let ANYTHING stop us."
Drakkara relaxed back upon her throne on the still lit black moon.
"This is a new era. The forces of light will push us around no longer. And
the so called Neutrals, well, they have their own problems. More than they
know."
Writer: Cayenna
Date Fri Oct 20 08:41:18 2023
To All
Subject Tears of Love and Loss
OOC: Over the next couple of months, historynotes to catch us up to where
we are in current events will be going in. Many have already been written,
at the time events occurred and that date will be included so there is an
idea of the appropriate timeline. These first three, follow Nadrik's
release, the fall of three gods and the rise of a new queen. Happy reading.
_.` `._.` `._.` `._.` `._.` `._.` `._.` `._.` `._.` `._.` `._.` `._.` `._
(written June 15, 2019)
Tears of Love and Loss
A pair of large hands come to rest upon shoulders that lay bent in sorrow,
giving a gentle squeeze of support before a smaller, fine-boned hand
responded, stretching across the woman's frame to lay her lightly cupped
palm on top of her husband's fingers.
"I thought I might find you here. You shouldn't come so frequently, it is
dangerous. You are safer upon the white moon..." A tender kiss presses to
the top of Taliena's head, meant to soften the chastening words.
Slipping her hand back into her lap, Taliena's response comes laced with
sadness. "I know but I miss her. Both of them so much... And look how it
lay so empty here... "
Intense sorrow washes across Austinian's face as he looks down upon his
wife's still bent head. "I miss them too. But Kantilles and Nadrik are
still very much with us and Nadrik needs us more than before... "
Turning partially to look back at her husband, large eyes filled with unshed
tears as she looks into his. "Austinian, he withdraws into himself and
bids me to leave him. He is angry. I do not want to push him so I come
here. Here, where it feels we are all still together as one and where I can
look upon Siccara's face or upon Kadiya's... Even if they are now only
stone-faced marble... "
Austinian takes only a moment to watch his wife's face, the tears that did
not yet fall and the tightness of her jaw as to prevent her lip from
quivering, before circling the well-oiled, mahogany bench where Taliena
sits, his knees bending to lower himself to look eye to eye with her while
taking both her hands in his. "He is a man of honor, Taliena. "
"He blames himself. "
"Don't we all? "
For a long moment, the silence stretched between the two, only breaking as
Taliena suddenly rises to her feet to face her husband who rises with her,
each to their full height, a rare anger flushing her cheeks as her words
pour forth. "Why does the mortal realm do nothing? Do they not love us
as we have loved them? I hear the murmured waves of their words from all
around me as I sit here amongst these pillars and beneath our moon and know
there is blooming hope of resurrection. But that is not for my daughters,
Austinian! It is for -your- brother that they hope for! "
Austinian quickly takes the step forward to embrace his wife's shoulders and
draw her close, silencing the outburst of her anger as it is swallowed by
the rising tide of sorrow and a mothers intense heart-break with tears
falling unchecked with each wretched sob pouring forth. With a loss for
words, Austinian holds tight to his wife as she grieves, his face its own
wash of despair as he watches her tears stream without restraint down her
cheek, each fat, glistening pool clinging to the underside of her porcelain
jaw before letting go and falling to the ground where Taliena's tears of
love and loss seep deep into the soil...
Writer: Cayenna
Date Fri Oct 20 09:06:20 2023
To All
Subject Broken Scales
(written June 15, 2019)
The blood red of the crimson moon set the atmosphere as it cast its
vermilion haze upon all that gathered, a stoic huddle of figures lost within
their own thoughts as each refused to yet give any spoken attestation of all
that transpired and the looming repercussions, a long pregnant pause of
silence weighing between them as heavily as the mood.
In the distance, even now the purple halo surrounding the black moon still
shone as bright as any star, the umbra of the sphere as it arced across the
Algoron sky not yet returned to its normal presence, yet even in brightness,
its casted shadow covered the entire realm for all to see.
The palpable unease finally brought a soft, almost inaudible sigh from the
lips of Zandreya, but in the overwhelming silence that loomed, it was as if
it were a scream upon the heavens. Feeling all eyes turn upon her, it
compelled her to speak. "We have gathered, so now what do we do? "
Reaching out and finding her hand, Cliath gave it a gentle squeeze. "What
can we do, Mother? Balance was thrown into upheaval since the birth of
Malachive and his spread of destruction upon the realm... "
With a snort, Raije cut him off. "We should be planning our fight against
Drakkara and you need to preface it with a history lesson? "
Giving a look that coupled with the lifting of one hand, Kwainin silenced
his two sons before the heated debate could truly start. Without preamble,
he turned toward their guest, Kwainin's gaze filled with sorrow as he looked
upon Austinian . "Tell me brother, how does Nadrik fare?"
"Taliena is with Nadrik now, he is still physically weak even as his wounds
have healed... "
"And his mind? "
A flicker of uncertainly flashed in the eyes of Austinian though the words
given were strong and sure. "Taliena grieves the loss of two daughters, she
will not see the demise of our son, physically or otherwise. "
Laced with a hint of impatience, the voice of Raije sounded again. "And
what of Necrucifer and the claims from Drakkara? "
Austinian and Kwainin passed a look between them with the barest of nods
given by Kwainin before Austinian spoke, his voice heavy in the words he
carefully lays to the group. "It has been long since Necrucifer and I seen
eye to eye and now I stand heavy hearted with the loss of a brother. "
Zandreyas soft voice rose to be heard in the pause of silence that fell.
"Necrucifer was not born though, it is impossible for him to then die. "
"It is what we thought as well but perhaps the imbalance has caused the
impossible to be possible. If so, it puts us all at risk. "
"Unless he is not truly gone. "
The gentle visage of Kwainin looked toward Cliath as he spoke the same
thought that lay in question on the mind of the others. "It is the
murmurings of the mortal realm that hold some hope to that as well. We
cannot yet know. "
With a slight turn of his head, Kwainin looks upon Sebatis. "You have been
silent my son, what would you offer? "
A troubled look passed over the features of Sebatis, his brows furrowing as
well. "Her power over the Black Moon is absolute. There is no one now to
keep Drakkara in check. "
Raije's face flushes with anger, posturing as he hefts his sword a bit
higher off his shoulder in a readying fight stance. "Then we fight! We
right the injustice of the realm! "
The sound of Kwainin's quiet voice cuts through, "What do we fight for, Son?
The death of Necrucifer? Of Mencius? Of Siccara? Or those that have gone
before? The rise of the Drakkara? The rising impact of Malachive's chaos?
Which fight would it be? For the first time, the shift of the larger number
falls upon the Red Moon yet it is not the Balance that we have continually
tried to maintain. "
"Brother, perhaps it is time to look to the mortal realm for guidance? Long
have they sought ours. And even in death, they cling to measures of hope,
of loss and resurrection. "
"Perhaps. " Kwainin looked to Raije. "All I know is that for the Balance,
the scales have broken. We cannot rest upon the laurels of the realm nor
any rest in measures of indecision. Chaos is here. It is time for a call
to action. "
Writer: Cayenna
Date Fri Oct 20 10:25:25 2023
To All
Subject The Dark Side of the Moon
(written June 15, 2019)
A purple glow dusted the moon's surface, bathing it in eerie light as
prevailing bolts of lightning crackled with energy as they splayed across
the skies in a rippling fulmination of streaking light, each charge a
brilliant display of boundless power. A gleeful chuckle escaped the lips of
the Queen of Darkness as she reveled in the conductivity of electricity that
surged through her landscape and into its core, feeding it like kindling
feeds a fire. With a lift of her chin, her focus returns to those before
her, slowly leaning back within her acquired throne as if she had nary a
care, with a face that settles into a mask of contemplation as she looked
upon the beckoned three that now kneeled in homage before her. One by one,
her fingers clicked upon the bony arm of her throne, allowing the sound to
become singular before she finally offers her first words, ones laced with
mocking sarcasm.
"My minions tell me that the death of Necrucifer has left the mortal realm
as uncertain and weak as he was. And yet they cling to the hope that he
will return. It is as if they loved him. Fools!! They are sheep and those
that do not bend, will be fodder for the taking. "
With a tight, scoffing laugh, Drakkara stands, ebon robes flowing out behind
her as she makes her way to the first figure, the tips of her fingers coming
to rest lightly upon the top of Dragoth's head as she moves around him in a
slow circle. "Dragoth, you will work to spread your decay across the realm,
leave nothing pure. And in the icy lands and to where your decay cannot
penetrate, let disease take hold and spread. Leave the Conclave be for now,
but remind them that they remain untouched at my bidding and that it is to
me and me alone that the Black Tower will rise above all others. "
The obedient, single nod was in swift delivery to her command. Satisfied,
her skirts swirl around her ankles as she moves to her next son, a slight
pressure from her fingers curling around one of his shoulders.
"Devion. "
"Nadrik remains weak. Amuse yourself with him. Break him. "
"Yes Mothe--" A giggle bubbles and escapes as he catches himself and his
words, "Yes, my Queen. "
With a single pat upon Devion's head, she moves to the last son in line.
"Fatale. "
"Much like the mortal kingdom that Necrucifer used to toy with. I hear that
your followers are at odds, weakening your name... " There is a slight
pause. "And your failure in slaughtering the demons that rise for
Necrucifer makes me question.... Do you no longer know how to hone your
deadly blade? "
With a soft tsking sound, she continues. "You disappoint me. "
Unlike with the others, her touch was removed as she leaned down over the
shoulder of Fatale, a silky, whispered croon sounding near his clenching jaw
and a reddening ear. "Perhaps the weakness of Necrucifer passed on to you.
I thought perhaps it was Malachive with his deranged plans and a bit touched
in his destructive conquests. Hmmm.... I had rather high hopes for you,
but... Perhaps you are the lesser son... "
As she heard the harsh sound of grinding teeth, the glint of satisfaction
infused into the eyes of Drakkara, ones that turned to watch Fatale's fist
clench as it lay wrapped around the pommel of his broadsword, so tight in
its growing grip that each knuckle whitened as if the blood were cut off
from the rest of the hand.
"Do the words sting, my son? Use it to channel the rage of your dead
brother and turn it upon those that refuse to answer my call. Salt the
realm with the blood of those who would oppose me. Ive always admired your
creative thirst... "
"And what of Fathers other mortal toys? "
"For now, leave them to me. If they fail to see the full power of my moon,
then they will suffer the same fate as the one they cling to. "
The barest of nods was given in response and one that would have gone
unnoticed if it had not been watched for so carefully, and with it, Drakkara
felt another sweet taste of victory.
The tips of her fingers finally stretch out to offer a mothers touch to the
side of Fatales cheek as she moves around him to retake her throne and from
that contact, a sharp spark of energy releases against his immortal flesh
causing Fatale to flinch, yet offer the slow spread of a sadistic grin in
response.
A knowing look passes in silence between mother and son and with lips that
curve into a cat-like, Cheshire grin of her own, Drakkara settles back into
the depths of her throne. With a blink, the gaze is broken as she sweeps
her eyes across them all.
"Now that the throne is mine, boys, its time to throw a party. And we have
some work to do. "
Writer: Scorn
Date Wed Dec 25 10:48:51 2024
To all
Subject The Crystal Dragon
The frigid mountainside upon Icewall was buffetted by an icy gale, fingers of rime clawing
at the craggy stone of the hilltops and screaming as the air raced past the mouth of a
cave that once stood comfortably in the lee of a shelf of rock. That time had long past,
worn away by entropy and the continued calamities that rocked Algoron to its core. Such an
unobtrusive entryway, however, belied the impossible miracles that dwelt within, for
the cavern deep within the mountain's heart was filled with gemstones of every type and
color. It was a veritable trove of wealth unspoiled by man or beast, despite the
long years it had dwelt here. It was, Cliath would say, one of the finest secrets that
he had ever left upon Algoron's face.
'This were one o' the finest secrets I ever left upon Algoron's face,' said Cliath,
wearing the guise of a wisened dwarf, his trimmed beard and bright eyes occasionally
giving him a gnomish countenance. He led his party past the gem-studded walls, the
golden glow of his presence causing the precious rocks to glitter and sparkle
with a kaleidoscope of colors.
'Yes, my son. You have told me of this,' replied Kwainin patiently, pausing to inspect
a sapphire the size of a child's fist. The gem was immaculate, requiring almost no cutting
to release its beauty or improve its luster, 'That is why we are here, for only the
finest will serve as our champions. Beginning from scratch would take too much time, would
attract the attention of the two ends that pull farther from the middle with every passing
moment.'
'Their fighting has upset the natural order, and turned too many eyes away from the problems
at hand,' murmured an elf-shaped Zandreya in a dangerously icy tone. It was her anger that
stirred the storm outside, which suited the party just fine on this night of all nights.
Her fury had not abated a whit in the months since the attack upon her person by the forces
of Chaos, and the rising intensity of the storms on Arkane made the blizzard that the gods
of Neutrality traveled under look like a spring shower in comparison, 'If we cannot rely
upon them to do as our agreements demand of them and uphold the world's balance, then we will
produce our own agents to do so.'
The minotaur that brought up the path behind Kwainin and Zandreya snorted, unimpressed
by the bounty of material wealth that surrounded him, 'The battle lines of Arkania are drawn.
One way or the other, it will be put to the test or put to rest. And then my true disciples will
have a new stone against which to whet their blades.' At that, Raije seemed to smile, a
gesture that did not do his craggy features any favors at the prospect of the mission his
Family's actions would put at the feet of the Slayers of Greystoke.
Behind the group, one last figure stalked. The half-elven Sebatis seemed somehow even less
impressed than Raije, his gaze looking past his brother to bore into the back of Cliath's head.
He said nothing, but the furrow-lines of his brow spoke of deep and darkened thoughts as
to the state of affairs, both immediately surrounding him and the world at large.
As the cavern grew, Cliath's explanations became more spirited, until at last his enthusiasm
and the grandiosity of the space became so much that the others knew without a shadow of a
doubt that they had reached their destination. It was Kwainin who diplomatically raised
a hand to becalm his son, cutting the dwarvish smith-god off with a patient expression,
'Cliath. We will begin to prepare the first vessel now. Will you find a suitable
medium?' Behind him, Raije did not bother concealing his relief past masking his
sigh as a half-hearted snort.
As Cliath busied himself about the cavern, inspecting outcroppings of gems and murmuring to
himself about measurements and purity, the God of Balance turned to his betrothed, 'They will
be the agents of our will, beloved Zandreya, made to put the wrongs to right. We shall make
it so, if we cannot rely on the wisdom of our peers.' This time, it was Sebatis who failed
to adequately conceal a snort, managing only to lower it to a cough as Cliath trundled back,
cradling a diamond the size of his stout torso.
'This ought to do us, Father,' said the creator-God, 'An' we saw what chaos-' he paused
as Zandreya's eyes flashed. Even the general term was a touchy one, and the diminutive God
adroitly pivoted, 'The destruction that tha first breeds wrought. We can avoid them wit'
our draft, isn't that righ', Brother?' He looked next to Sebatis who, with something
akin to a sour expression, nodded curtly, 'Perfect! Then we should get ta work, Father.'
Cliath tapped a boot upon the cavern floor and, with a rumbling and cracking, the stone
itself reshaped to accommodate its maker's will. A flat surface rose, a slab fit to rest
the great diamond upon. As Cliath set the stone down, the other Gods stepped forward, each
taking a position equidistant around the slab. All five gods raised their right hands,
suspending them above the diamond that glinted and gleamed, unaware of what its fate was
to be.
It was Kwainin who began, 'I imbue you with Purpose, that you will strive to protect the
world that gave birth to you.' As he spoke, a tendril of crimson light flowed from
his down-turned palm to sink into the diamond. The gem quivered, taking in the divine
radiance hungrily.
Cliath followed, seeing the shaking of the gemstone and casting his own benediction, 'I
imbue ye with Form, tha' the bones o' the earth bae your maker and yer home, so that ye
will never fade so long as yer world still stands.' Golden radiance flowed from his
palm, stilling the quivering of the diamond. Instead, a shadow began to form within its
depths, an indistinct shape that twisted with a quickening vigor.
Zandreya spoke softly, gazing intently upon the growing shadow in the gemstone, 'I imbue
you with Will, so that you do not shy from how great your task shall be. You are the guardians
of Algoron, who will face many foes among your kin in Light and Shadow. Do not fear them.'
The earthy glow dripped from Zandreya's palm like honey, twining around the shadow and bolstering
it. The shape within began to take on greater definition, the outline of wings and limbs focusing.
Raije joined in the ritual, growling his share of the incantation, 'I imbue you with Strength,
so that all who would oppose your mission will crumble before your might. No matter your
foe, may you break them.' His bloody radiance flashed into being, driving into the heart
of the diamond and filling it with a dire light. A crack formed upon the surface of the
gemstone, the creature within struggling to escape what had become its egg through the manifested
miracle of four combined divinities. Kwainin looked to Sebatis expectantly.
Sebatis remained quiet for a moment longer than was proper, watching the struggle of the unborn
creature within the crystalline egg. His expression was inscrutable, but as he felt the eyes
of his Family upon him, he spoke, 'I imbue you with Control, that you never stray as your
cousins once did.' The tension in the air doubled, for this was not fully expected, 'The
Dragonwars were a travesty, a stain upon history and a threat to all Algoron. You will not
need a Draconus to be brought to heel. You shall be our creations and our proxies, and you
will remember who first gave you life.' The coldness in his voice could have frozen a
waterfall, but the die was cast. The darkly ruddy light from his hand spilled into the cracks
of the diamond, wrapping around the neck of the unborn creature to complete its form.
With a splintering crack like the sound of a sundering bell, the diamond shattered, casting
impossibly hard slivers in all directions. The Gods did not shrink away, for no mortal
force within this cavern was beyond them. Instead, their eyes remained downcast upon the
slab, for the first of their new creations gazed upon the world with milky eyes and
flexed newly-formed wings and claws. The first Crystal Dragon took its very first breath,
and a pulse of light within the core of its glassy-scaled being cast a radiance through
its leathery skin, illuminating it.
Kwainin nodded, satisfied, before turning to Cliath, 'You have chosen well, my son. Please,
find us another.' He looked once more to the hatchling, raising a hand to take it in his
grasp with a deceptive gentleness and raise it to his godly perspective, 'We shall need
many more if we are to bring an end to this madness.'
Writer: Cayenna
Date Sat Jul 26 11:43:02 2025
To All
Subject The Olive Branch
Written March 31, 2020)
High above Algorons skies, the black moon turned on its axis in shrouded
silence, this side of its obsidian face little more than a desolate
wasteland broken only by a single towering mountain jutting upward toward
the stars. No living thing stirred, save for one lone figure who stood upon
the mountains peak, with the howls and cries of unseen demonic creatures,
diableries, and moonspawn echoing through the void and surrounding the one
that was Darkness herself.
For months, she had gazed down upon the mortal realm with a hunger born of
destiny. She watched them in their stubborn defiance, clinging to His
memory as their voices rose in offered prayers, ones that resulted in
nothing more than a brittle echo to a God that no longer listened. Poor
things.
They were not yet hers but as the months passed with no signs of return
coming from Necrucifer's altar as His divine essence lay cold, the delicious
taste of doubt began its slow creep inward, and their threads of hope were
starting to fray. These mortals were hers by conquest, by divine right of
destruction, but she would not descend in wrath and ruin, she was no brute
after all. She could afford to be gracious, to woo them with a velvety
sweet smile and razored tongue of seductive wit. Why, Algoron was
practically bursting at the seams with sinful immorality and she was a
temptation that few could resist. And neither mortals nor gods had the
faintest clue that she had not merely ended Necrucifer but unmade him,
absorbed him like a vintage wine poured straight into her veins. Fools, the
lot of them. Now was time to press her advantage and pay a visit to the
Keep. After all, her divine crown was in need of precious jewels.
_________________________________________________________________
The incredible ease of her descension and the way she slipped into the keep
like an expensive perfume wafting through a locked door, made her laugh
aloud, the sudden burst of uncontained amusement echoing across the room.
Why, it was as easy as taking candy from a baby! She watched with delighted
interest as her sound startled those present, causing quite the stir of
commotion as her body remained invisible to the several pair of eyes that
searched the room and peered into shadowed corners until a commanding voice
of authority called out, "Enough with the games. Stay your steel and your
spells. We have a Visitor of some infamy."
"No games, I assure you. Clever as you are. Though disappointed that you
have not rolled out the red carpet for me."
"You will need to grow accustomed to disappointment, Mistress of Dark
Magick."
The small crowd shifted with nervous energy, many positioning shields and
readying weapons that would do little harm to her celestial flesh. Their
preparations only widen her smile as more laughter sounds though it is
gentle and soothing as if coming from a best friend. "You prepare as if for
battle. To you, I mean no harm."
"Remember your measure. You are Knights, but you are before a Goddess. Do
not die a fool's death."
"Do not think I can't read your minds, mortals that you are. And such
disrespect in the fact that first there is no carpet for me to walk upon and
now, you do not kneel before me."
Dark Lord Telthian Schwartz gestured to his Knights and petitioners to put
their spells and weapons away. "Stand down."
Drakkara watched events unfold with a surveying gaze and was tickled to
watch a young fledging knight, undo the clasp to her cape and lay it upon
the marble floor where she both knelt and genuflected deeply with a bowed
head but found considerably more delight by the look of horror and fury
crossing the face of their Dark Lord as he commanded her to stand.
The Dark Lord again spoke, "The lives of the men and women of this Keep are
sworn, given away to another already. We fought for Him, and for You,
once."
"And for my son and yet, who still stands?"
After moments of consideration, his response was given. "A few of us were
'Graced' by your Champion and Wizard not so long ago. Some time after
Bodrum was dismembered but before he was...Re-assembled minus a few parts."
The Goddess shrugged one bare shoulder, "Easy come, easy go. How quickly
the mortal realm can forget themselves. And in his profuse apologies, he
was delivered back intact. A good lesson learned." Her lips lift into an
easy smile, the curve soft and gentle as her gaze surveyed the group and
their collective quietness. "If I so wished to dismember this group, it
would be done and your fate, would be worse than the newly formed gully."
Telthian again spoke, "Aye, we are flawed creatures, all. But this Keep is
an edifice to the desire to become something greater."
A new voice, raspy and more obnoxious, interjected, "Which is why we are
having this discussion, rather than being a keep of viscera. Why have you
deigned to appear before us?"
She tilts her head slightly to one side, "There is a passion within this
Keep that draws the eye. I have watched through the years and all that you
have accomplished." In the pause, she rights herself though one hand lifts
with elegant ease, her palm up as she motions toward the group, though her
eyes remain upon their Dark Lord. "I am a lady who does enjoy a very fine
bauble."
"None of us doubt your Power, Mistress. But if it were Power for its sake
alone we would not be sworn to Him."
"You are, let us say at present .... A diamond in the rough?"
The obnoxious voice again, "You want us to serve you."
The question is ignored as the Goddess speaks softly to Telthian, "You are
also not a fool. Not in any form. I extend an olive branch. The branch
can be broken, or it can be taken. I expect no decision at this time, only
the offer for you to mull over. For now."
The response given was careful. Measured. "You slew our Creator for your
own gain."
Genuine laughter is laced in her reply, "Does Storm not teach of the weak
and to cull the herd?"
Telthian inclines his head to Drakkara, "We are humbled that you know of our
teachings. Indeed, we do. But there is no illusion as to what it means to
decline your olive branch." Still carefully measuring his words, he
continues, "As for culling weakness. You have yet to demonstrate that the
Darkness is stronger, not weaker, for your gambit." Telthian gestures to
the area surrounding him, "But this earth is rich with our blood, and His.
Spilt by Light and Balance both. You saw us confront them all from your
Throne on the Moon. Forgive us, we are stubborn creatures who cling to our
code, vigilant and skeptical in all."
Drakkara smiles as she hears Telthian out, no shred of malice or sarcastic
humor in the curve of her lips nor the next words that she speaks. "Look
around and know the truth that is already forming in your mind. Where are
the other Gods in all this aftermath? Still licking their wounds and
wondering what will become of them. While I have been gracious with my magi
and while I come here, to allow you the chance to rise from your own
wallowing pit to become what you were destined to become. Your skepticism
has at times failed you. When my son sought shelter here, what did that
earn you? Exile. And at whose hand?"
Another voice from the sidelines, "How long until you wish an answer, Dark
Lady?"
She turns to smile at the one known as Jermichael, "I am willing to indulge
you for a time. I will hear your prayers and I will know your actions. My
eye is now upon you and that reminder is now here in your keep."
Drakkara's gaze shifted to give Telthian her full measure as his voice
sounded. "I have often wondered, how it was that the symbol of Gohdam's
revolution was a Black Moon. Perhaps one day I might be so enlightened."
Wisps of curling smoke begin to materialize and slowly cling upon the curves
of the goddess as a sultry smile is flashed upon Telthian in response. "But
again, I think in your mind, you already know that answer."
With a lift of her hand, Drakkara gestures as if giving a royal command
before her subjects. "Oh, and one more thing boys? I mentioned a carpet
earlier, though purple is more to my preference. I do think it would look
lovely against the gray stone of the floor."
The smoke continues to wash over every curve and feature of Drakkara before
there is nothing more then a wall of thin black smoke and the pleasant smell
of incense that lingers in her wake.
Writer: Scorn
Date Fri Aug 8 14:11:29 2025
To All Dragon
Subject Balanx Report: Anomalous Growth of Gem Dragons
[ Report filed within Lex Draconis Medius, Vol. II ]
Observation: Unexpected development of initial subjects inserted into
Algoron by the will of the Pantheon of Creation.
Elaboration: Subjects (colloquial term: "Crystal Dragon", "Thirdborn", "Gem
Dragon") underwent diaspora after incarnation by the hands of the Twilight
Gods. Many Crystal Dragons migrated to cold climes, utilizing natural
camouflage to integrate into food chain and joined the natural cycle of life
on Algoron. Some subjects have migrated into other regions and climates,
and have begun to adapt in unforeseen ways to their environment.
Gem Dragons settling in the desert is an anomaly recorded in previous
reports (see: "Lifestyles and Lifecycles of Cliathian Creations vol.
VIII"). Those who have done so have often left a wide berth around the
Umbral Rift ("Dark-Forged Calamities, vol. CVI") out of respect for
unanticipated feedback from latent magicks and energies. Newer hatched eggs
from the region have revealed passive absorption of umbral energies.
Result: Newborn Gem Dragon eggs found in the region surrounding the Umbral
Rift have developed an affinity for similarly-aligned magicks. Their
scales, accordingly, have lost their purity and have become altered to
better suit their environment. Their core nature does not appear to be
changed, with early observation demonstrating continued loyalty to the
Twilight Gods despite increased irascibility and aggression indicating
affinity for umbral-aligned powers.
Risk Assessment: Newly-developed dragons do not appear to be at-risk of
succumbing to Dark influence. These creatures may have simply adapted to
the environment and utilize natural affinity to aid in hunting and resisting
the widening breach above the New Thalos desert. Other traits remain in
line with capabilities and expectations of the Gem Dragons that came before.
Current risk to the Divine Plan: Low. Next audit of the impurity will
include a re-evaluation of this risk factor.
Addendum: New designation has been requested by Zandreyan Cataloguer
Ix'nia'bahel (Order: Species Examiner, third rank Balanx). Designation has
been analyzed and approved as following the structure of the nomenclature of
previous dragon creations and the appropriate color of the impurity.
Designation of new dragon life forms: Topaz Dragons.
Report concludes.
Bra'vurahara Arcanological Observer, sixth rank Balanx
Writer: Cayenna
Date Sun Nov 9 19:38:51 2025
To All
Subject Broken, Remade and Unleashed
(Written for the historical context from December 2018 through May 2020)
At first, there was only trapped rage. His mind echoing a singular name,
cursing it like an endless loop made to play on repeat while his voice was a
roar of intense agony, filling the emptiness where his body had been.
Divided and bound and without a body, time lost count as the days could not
be marked by toil or rest. In a place unsee, his writhing torso ached but
could not draw any breath while his stumpy legs twitched and spasmed but
staked upon the pillar, they were insubstantial with no weight or burden to
bear. The dwarf sensed rather than heard a slow, rhythmic thrum beating
through him, his own screams maddening against his ear but within a fragile
thread of sanity, he imagined it as the heartbeat of the goddess who had
torn him apart and displayed him as punishment and left for the realm to see
as a symbol of consequence. The demoralizing price of defiance and
disobedience. He hated her for it, yet in that cruelty, it made him feel
less alone.
As the years passed, he tried to remember the shape of his face, not the
screaming thing that hung like a deformed amulet upon the neck of its
monumented stone. As it slipped through his memory like sand, he created a
new one and wondered if a mug of dark ale was simply a concocted image from
a dream for he could see the mug rise to his lips but could not recall its
taste as it spilled and wet his tongue. He tried laughter instead of
screams, but the sounds from those efforts were ugly, foreign and
frightening. He tried to still his voice altogether, but the silence was
far worse.
Then came the demonic whispers. Tiny voices that scratched through his
shrieks with words that were both familiar and mocking, yet tender. He
found himself uncomfortably stilled and for a time, weightless as he was
carried through darkness until all his parts were in one place upon cratered
ground. He could feel a faint shiver beneath the soil before it broke,
hairline cracks emerging around him as the first of the worms pushed
through, their bodies pale, glistening coils twisting into the open
darkness. He welcomed their swarm across his flesh, blind, wet and wordless
creatures that wriggled down his throat, burrowing their way through his
body and consuming him until all went black.
Hours later as he sat up slowly, every bone heavy with the echo of something
forgotten and his body creaking in its move to stand with a faint flash of
pain felt along his neck and hips, he recalled a voice speaking his name in
a tongue he could not recall though he sensed it was far better that way.
There was only numbing contentment when the figure whose voice he recalled
stepped from the shadows and in that moment, he did not call her a tyrant or
a traitor but stood silently and waited for judgment. Her violet eyes
reflected an unknown glint and as a slow, cruel smile spread wide across her
lips, he knew her intent. He had worshipped her faithfully, had been broken
beneath her fury when he rebelled, and now was sculpted anew in her design.
And with a dismissive wave of her hand, he tumbled from her presence,
disgraced and disowned, nothing more than the inside of a discarded tissue
from a nose blown.
--------------------
(Written for the historical context from May 2020)
The sun rose upon the farthest horizon, a wash of pinks and blues spreading
across the sky as a backdrop for both the white and red moons, as a new day
dawned.
Across the vast deserts of Kabir Abyad, the vivid caravans wound their way
between towering dunes that sparkled like glistening gold, the wind dragging
long whispers through the wastelands, leaving unmarked footprints in the
sands where nomads and camels trod along.
Within the sweltering rainforests of Tropica, the hum of life came alive to
something steady and familiar. Brightly feathered birds called from the
canopy while great lizards basked lazily on sunlit stones as the air
shimmered with intense heat.
Inside the stone walls of each city and kingdom, the toll of bells marked
the passing hours and market stalls clattered open, bringing the bustle of
people and the animated screams as their children raced through squares and
alleys in play, enjoying the morning sun.
And in the frigid wilds of Icewall, where it was difficult to judge where
snowcapped mountain peaks touched billowing clouds, all was as it should be.
The cries of battle drills rang out against the chilled morning air while in
other parts of the land, yinnae, minotaurs, and goblins awoke to go about
their day. The chatter within the dark forest slowly elevated to be heard
above the howling winds that blew cold and constant, until, without warning,
it faltered.
No prophecy warned of it. No omen marked the day as beneath root, stone and
molten fire of all of Algoron, something ancient flexed, as it testing its
strength after a long sleep. Nothing more than a ripple at first, one that
hung on bated breath before the soft rumbling reached the ears of many, one
that was heard deep within the earth before it was actually felt but as it
emerged, producing a shake so strong that it rattled items from walls,
felled limbs from trees and heaved the ground below.
Across the realm, the land lay broken with ley lines redrawn by the will of
the deep earth. Forests now stood silent as their roots lay torn open to
the sun, rivers changing course and carving out new paths through the fallen
stone, cities full of dust and scarred with crumbled walls and leaning
towers, desert winds carrying a new yet broken song while ocean waves
consumed shorelines with islands born and destroyed by looming tidal waves.
Yet threads of magic stirred anew, heaved in the imbalance where against the
glistening white snow and ice, a small orb now hovered near the frozen
ground, defined by a faint glow of reflected red and a soft pulse that
shakes slightly in the frosty climate, with a nearly inaudible hum weighing
in with a life of its own.
Writer: Cayenna
Date Sun Nov 9 20:31:56 2025
To All
Subject Of Darker Tides
(Written for the historical context from May 2020)
Beyond the shadowed streets of Verminasia and far past the eastern gate,
the Temple of Dark Magick stands as a pillar within the sanctum of Darkness,
where countless souls come in shared faith to whisper their prayers, swear
their oaths, plot their betrayals and the demise of others, and confess
their sins. Its walls absorb the secrets of those seeking redemption or
forbidden knowledge, and beneath the gaze of the alabaster statue, every
whispered plea carries the peril of being heard. Priests and worshippers
gather in sermon, the pews filled and their voices rising into the vaulted
ceiling as the statues faint glow answers.
A figure slowly phases into existence and before you is a man, or what
appears to be a man though much of him is hidden from view beyond his
uncovered hands, which despite his long, black fingernails, appear human.
He is covered head to toe in dark, unholy robes with a hood pulled up to
cover his face, nothing more than a deep emptiness laying within where his
face might be. All eyes turn upon the newcomer.
At the head of the temple, Eevelline pushes her glasses up- unsure of what
to think of the newcomer. "Hmmm... Welcome, faceless one. What is it
that.. You require? "
"Continue child. I would hear the rest of your words. Uninterrupted. "
The limbs of the gnome jerked against her will, each muscle convulsing as if
some unseen hand plucked at her flesh. With a clearing of her throat,
Eevelline looks to the Dark Lady's visage within the temple and draws a deep
breath before she continues. "The Dark Lady, for lack of a better word- has
come down to our world.. And begun to clean house of those whom She finds
displeasing. She is fair, and balanced. She has given ultimatums, but I
know that She is fair, and kind. If we were to unite, and uplift all of the
Dark Gods as vital benefactors to our existence- She will be pleased. It
all honors Her, in the end. For yes, She sits upon the Throne.
Possibilities or not, we must still unite for ourselves."
"I understand the loss of the Darkfather, though I am not of His Flock.
But.. Even in this, unity is paramount. Sure.. We can pursue the avenues
we find for restoration of Him. That is a possibility, above all things.
That is what I think, the Mistress values most out of all of us. Is that we
forge our path, and we do it for the Church. Ultimately, for the Black
Moon. A time of tribulation is coming.. And we cannot afford to stand
against each other. It is our duty as worshipers of -all- Darkness to look
after one another."
High above, a crackle of energy runs across the ceiling, ending in a
sizzling spark. It is follow by another, the sizzle of light rushing across
the ceiling and while contained at the moment, there is a palpable energy
that can be felt from the charged bolt.
"Do you believe in the power of the moon, child?"
"I do. With every fiber of my being."
"And in whose hands is that power held?"
There is no hesitation as the gnome answers, "The Dark Lady, certainly."
The figure croons at the little gnome, "The truth is spoken in this child.
But not in other words. There is no other equal beyond Her."
The gnomes head bobs in agreement. "I understand. The path is clear...
Truly. May I... Entreat the Mistress to look favorably upon others whom do
not fully see? They know naught what they do.. We mortals can bring them
together. For Her, and all of the Church. Or... We can die trying."
"Are you such a voice, child?"
Uncertainty crosses the gnomes face. "I do not know.. But if She will have
me, I will be that voice. I will gladly die trying in order to bring us all
together."
The faceless figure does not look away as he reaches into a satchel that
hums with energy, his clawed hands withdrawing a replica of the black moon
that crackles with energy, mini bolts of lightning seeming to jump and spark
from off the sphere to wash over its extending hands. "Be confident child.
I repeat, are you such a Voice?"
Eevelline takes a long moment to think this over and after several moments,
her eyes look to the Dark Lady's visage within the temple. She turns back
and nods with every inch of her four feet seeming straightand determined.
"I am. I will be that Voice."
Almost comical and what seems to be a thousand times over, Eevelline blinks
as the dark orb is handed to her, along with a bit of rolled parchment.
With her gaze upon the black moon replica, she shudders a bit and seems
unsure of what to do but her words are determined. "I can do this. I will
do this."
The faceless man looks to the one known as Ognir as he stands beside the
gnome before turning his empty hood back toward Eevelline. "Prepare."
A sharp sound echoes as a deep purple bolt splinters across the ceiling
before spreading its fingers out across the room, touching no one yet
electrifying all with an incredible warmth. And with that, the faceless man
seems to fall apart before your eyes, its robes blending with the colors and
air within the temple before it is gone altogether.
----------
In the aftermath where quiet reigned and the gnome stood alone among the
sanctity of one, tiny fingers finally unfurled the parchment to reveal the
prophecy still untold.
~Of Darker Tides
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~&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
o>=< o>=< o>=<
>==
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the Black Moon rising
over a murdered sea of faceless pawns
splattered blood and ro |
