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Shadows of Death {P}
Topic Started: Sat Jul 9, 2011 9:17 am (367 Views)
Dusker
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Ten corpses laid before a dark figure on a stormy night. The moon was perfectly hidden behind a layer of thick dark clouds, casting pure shadow upon the world below. One patch remained free of the blight of darkness, however, lit in a purple glow of thirty-two candles spread about, a circle which had been broken for optimal light, for once the owner had realized that there was no need for such stupidity. And now, here he was, a bone-like white amongst black skin, all tattooed though the reason a mystery. A red glow came from the end of a cigarette hanging from his mouth as he looked to the bodies, joints freed of flesh, an arduous process without any tools, no knives or blades, and Tenebre clearly refused to dare dirtying itself with the dead, perhaps against whatever it may believe.

“What are you thinking?” A ghostly voice asked, the source coming from the smoke from the dark man’s cigarette, seemingly piling unnaturally in a sort of screen in the air, a face forming within the smoke. It seemed surprised, though that was simply from the drifting of the smoke catching upon what simplistic facial features managed to show themselves in its unconventional body.

“If it’ll work…” Said the dark man, breathing out two twin jets of smoke from his nose, looking over the bodies once more, “Well… Mostly.”

He had been born with necrotic powers, from his first moments he had been marked by society for being a true living dead, eyes unnatural given the human parents he was born from, and this alone was enough, an omen, to mark that spirits would follow him. Some feared such a thing, knowing those who interacted with the dead to be only evil, and others saw it as a hope for good, of one to speak to the long deceased, to gain their wisdom and messages. Leave it to Renacen to disappoint both parties involved, living in isolation and leaving home as soon as his skin was turned to black and white.

He was supposedly walking death incarnate. He didn’t see it, after all, it wasn’t like people dropped from his touch, or that death followed him. In fact, the corpses lay before him were proof that he had to search it out, rather than it be the other way around. It seemed to almost avoid him for some reason, and he had no idea why. There had been times when he knew he should have died, but somehow managed to survive.

“Mostly?” The spirit questioned with a huff, spewing some of the smoke it was comprised of back towards Ren who seemed utterly unaffected by such a thing, “What else could there to think of?”

The white eyes of the necromancer drifted lazily towards his dead companion, a slight glare about his gaze as he thought how best to word such a thing, to list out his worries of what would happen, of how he was supposed to deal with such a thing if it were to go wrong, not to mention the fact it would be so obnoxious to dig the corpses from their graves, and how he might take these with him if he wanted to avoid worries later on. He decided to skip past all of this, to save it for later, perhaps he could have them follow him about, try and call their spirit to their bodies. That could work… maybe… He wasn’t sure, he had only heard of necromancers capable of doing such a thing, he couldn’t be sure he would be able to do the same thing.

“We’ve already been interrupted once…” He commented idly, looking back to the bodies swiftly, the red of the end of his cigarette crawling closer to his white lips. The spirit merely gave a light chuckle to the concern, noting the secrets hidden deeper but not daring to comment upon them.

“If something else comes, you’ll have at least once corpse to deal with such a thing, and if all goes correctly, all ten of these corpses will fight for you! What is there to be worried about?”
“An arrow through my head?”
“Asides from that… Anyway, it would be a good way to see if you truly are death incarnate, to see if such a thing would kill you.”
“And if it does?”
“Then I have no more reason to stay around you then, now do I?”
“Reassuring… Thanks…”
“That’s why I’m here… Now stop wasting time! It will rain soon, it’ll ruin the bodies! We can’t have that! They’re already practically rotten to the marrow… Hell, I doubt they even have any marrow left within their bodies!”

Ren huffed, another puff of smoke escaping past his lips as he thought it over for a moment. He wasn’t sure that the bodies would corrode so quickly, though… maybe it would be a good idea to get such a thing over with quickly.
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Shaco
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A very thin layer of mist blanketed the grave yard, giving the ground a moist muddy feeling and making the graveyard seem more darker than it was. It seemed that graveyards were always filled with mist to make things seem more creepier. As if the large amount of dead bodies and ruined head stones wasn’t frightening enough. But Shaco loved this place, it was one of the very few quiet locations he could stand to be in. He didnt know why he liked it here, maybe it was because everything was dead, but no matter, he enjoyed it here. So after a long rough fight with himself to decided to be here, the jester now found himself among the dead, sitting on a head stone and laughing. What was he laughing about, well most of the time it was nothing at all, random spurts of laughter that filled his lungs. But tonight he had a reason to laugh. For the head stone he sat upon had a very funny name to the clown. To ordinary people it was a pretty normal, Rodger Fowly, a well known black smith in the town of Istan. But To shaco this name brought tears of humor.

He almost feel from the head stone a few times, swaying and kicking his feet. And after a few minuets of laughing he did fall from the stone seat. Landed on his back in the soft dirt he just laid there, laughing even more now. The jester always ended up like this, making himself laugh and have fun in times that most people would find boring or lonely. But he was very good at entertaining himself. The man decided to stand, and clean the dirt off of his suit, a very elegant and fancy suit. He loved this outfit, his black and red jester uniform. So the dirt just had to go. As he brushed the dirt from his suit he glanced over and saw a strange man standing of fin the distance. With him was some clouds of smoke, and a few dead bodies laying around him.

Being curious Shaco hopped on over to where the man stood. Taking a few long hops he was soon close enough to hear voices. There were two voices, but Shaco could only see one man. He didn’t pick up on this though, and since eh had no mind it did not confuse him in the least. He was however very curious as to why there were dead bodies around the man. Shaco, being a very skilled killer, loved dead bodies, he enjoyed to poke them and lick them. So maybe this man was a friend, another person who enjoyed playing with the dead like he did. So he pranced on over, close to the right side of the man.

Mister, do you like to play with dead people to? Oh I simply love dead people, they are so funny He laughed a little and looked down at the bodies. There were quite a few of them. To many for Shaco to count and keep track of, but there was indeed enough for him to play with. did you kill all these people? Man you must be strong! Hahaha wanna hear a joke!! His mind was running a riot now, jumping from subject to subject, never quite sure where it was going to end up.
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Dusker
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The necromancer took a deep breath, a long drag from his cigarette as the red glow grew brighter for a moment. Every caster had his tool… This was Ren’s. His guide watched for a moment, interested in what would be the results. And with each millimeter that the ash of the tobacco roll crawled, he could swear he felt his heart about to shatter past his ribs and rip through his body. It was a tense moment, the beginning of what would be, what could surely become. Slowly a middle finger and a thumb reached for what was left of the cigarette, being careful to bring it from his lips, to not lose the ash before he could begin. And then would come his words, calling forth to magics pertaining to the afterlife.

"Spiritus est, et consummatio - et justo duo verba sonant, et recessit.” The words spilled from between his white lips while his index finger began to tap twice, slowly, upon the cigarette, loosing the ash with a thundering call out to the world of the dead, to bring forth the first spirit, to commune with the dead member, the owner of the first body which he had dragged from its grave. And when the spell was done, there was little left that he could do except wait… just wait and see if the spirit even listened to his call, if it would show itself…

It seemed at first that he had his answer, looking over his shoulder to see what appeared to be a jester at his side, gazing happily down at the corpses, wanting to know if Renacen had killed them… It was clear to him within all of an instant that this was not of the corpse he called, but something else entirely. Something… Off-beat. Though at any rate, even if this wasn’t the thing that he was calling, it seemed that the spirit wasn’t answering. A lost cause, the first corpse. Or perhaps not, if the spirit would not care enough to bother coming to talk with the necromancer; the body could have use yet.

“Something had to have killed them.” Ren said, his voice calm and cool, his dead eyes watching and looking over the jester, clearly not of the norm, being nowhere near a castle or royalty. Though perhaps such a thing could lighten a mood, though at the same time something to be wary of. It was not often for friendly beings to traverse the lands where the dead lie in eternal slumber.

“Fine, tell me a joke.” Ren said, his voice still even, cool. His eyes turning back to his cigarette, spent, a sign that he needed a new one to smoke, otherwise he might go mad. He had no proof of this, but it did seem he was addicted, so there seemed little to no point in letting that addiction take the better of him with withdrawal, he’d much rather smoke another. Though, he wondered a slight if the jester might also.
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