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| The Dead Walk With Us; [P] Graham Sideas | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Thu Apr 7, 2011 9:07 am (352 Views) | |
| Balzoth | Thu Apr 7, 2011 9:07 am Post #1 |
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Within the cemetery of an ancient, ruined city stood a mausoleum, the home of a great and mighty tomb. Within this tomb lay the entirety of a once great and powerful demon heritage. One sarcophagus stood out, in the middle of the large room. It was primarily golden and in demonic it read, "The Final Heir." On the lid there were a few unreadable sigils, likely these held some importance to he who lay inside. Next to the sarcophagus was an axe, covered in dark almost black colored blood. And a cloak lay between it and the door. The cloak was black, tattered with some red spots. On top of it lay an amulet, cracked it was silver and held one of the same sigils marked upon the sarcophagus. The weather outside began to intensify as to prelude to something large. Lightning struck the large crypt, leaving a hole in the rooftop. Raid began to pour in as sounds could be heard within the sarcophagus. Screams, cries of pain and agony. Someone calling out to be saved. That is what would would expect to hear. Laughter, the grim laughter of what could only be a demon, or fallen soldier of the heaven. A pounding on the lid sent it flying across the room. A black cloud drifted from within, it sprouted wings and horns. It wielded a large scythe, and it held out it's boney hand towards the body inside. Raising out a pale bloodied arm, in tatters like the cloak on the cold ground. The figure sat up from it's imprisonment. Laughing as it stood, looking around the room, seeing the crypt that held it's dead family. Waving a hand in front of it's face several times before stepping out of it's golden cage. It picked up the amulet and cloak, placing them on it's person and taking a step towards a candle stick in the corner. It snapped it's finger and the candle became ablaze. Walking towards the door, past the shadowy figure it let out a low but intensified, "thank you." Placing it's pale dead hands on the doors of the mausoleum, the storm raging outside ceased, if only for a moment that felt like ages. Time itself took a halt. The graves that flooded the yard began to shake restlessly. Holding his hands towards the shining moon above he spoke out once more. This time loudly with much vigor. "Rest in piece my fallen brothers. I will take my new found place in this human world, in a body granted to me by a demon of shadow. I will show the light of this world, true damnation. I swear to you all, I Balzoth, reborn demon of the material plane. Will make this world, weep.." |
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| Graham Sideas | Fri Apr 8, 2011 12:43 am Post #2 |
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The little necromancer had a soft smile on his face, looking down at the scene with some bemusement from a nearby tree. His feet kicked lightly through the air, debating exactly how he wanted to handle the situation. He could hear the crying out of the dead here, could see trails of dead spirits walking over their own graves. Many of the men here had not been laid to rest properly, and he could feel their rage, hatred... "There won't be peace for any of your brothers for some time, I'm sure..." The necromancer seemed more forlorn then happy by his own statement. Instead of his normal taunting tone, there was a sadness to it. He hated to see so much wasted power, knowing that trying to revive any of them now would burn out the body and turn them into mindless undead... such useless creatures. The flesh of heroes is such a fickle resource. He slowly drifted down from the tree branch, landing softly in the grass. He looked around the graveyard, avoiding looking at the newly born thing he was examining before he noticed any of the dead. Spectral flames burned around his purple eyes as he drifted from grave to grave, examining the name of the man buried within and the soul that was pounding at it's own casket. "Your presence disturbed them..." He snorted, continuing with his examination for some time without so much as a second glance at the demon. Lucius leaned against the tree with his hands crossed, strands of wrapping dangling from his hands. He examined his master with a bit of curiosity, never truly understanding the curious little necromancer. He had no clue of the worlds that drifted inside the phantom's mind, or what he was seeing when he was speaking of them. He pulled himself up from his lazing and walked across the graveyard, keeping at least twenty yards between himself and the newly born demon. He was never remarkably comfortable around the living, but those that just recently popped out of caskets were not the type to be trusted. Especially if a mass of supernatural energy happened to be there to aid in that rising. "I'm sure he didn't mean to disturb them, My lord. Perhaps we should leave it be?" The little child angrily waved Lucius away, going to the next grave and putting his spectral hand into the dirt. There was a growl of rage and a stomping of ghostly feet as the Phantom remembered he couldn't' interact with any part of the grave. Lucius knew this meant he'd want to do something awful to vent that knowledge out. "And as far as weeping, You're rather forthcoming for that. I don't see you lasting long when you explain everything you intend so simply to graves. What happens when you're up against a Knight who wishes to preserve the world, hm?" The Phantom turned his head for a moment as if he was interested in the conversation, then moved on to the next grave. The flame of his eyes died down as he pressed his spectral forehead into the dirt. He could almost smell the moisture in the soil, but a frown crossed his ghastly face. "Like looking through anothers eyes...hmm..." |
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2:51 PM Jul 11

