Scythes', And Existentialism

[Eleatic 1033]

--

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=-igdqVjgPd0

 

The scythe fell, the tendons seaming away from flesh as the mortals neck split open. The head falling unto the ground as it continued to shriek, if only for a second. The knight mumbled something incoherent as the lifeless, headless corpse fell unto the ground. Blood spurting out for a few more moments. He went unto his cloak, wiping away the blood unto the tattered satin.  The Knight designated as Elbent ground his helmet to a nod as the two began to pound off. Verin looked back to the corpse, considering rather jaggedly about where the mans soul mightn't find himself.

 

Over the next hour, two men found their fate as this one had. All without seeming coincdence, it was known most well that bad things came in threes, and this was no different. Their lifeless bodies had fallen with the same terorr, with the same lack of tenacity: With the same guttural humanity.

 

The Necromancer Lair itself was quiet, as it usually was. Verin waited in a large chair near the end, letting himself sit unnecessarily within. Infront of him was Elbent himself, and in the middle of them was a Tak Table. They played the monotonous, un-imaginative game for a while. Pressing chess-like pieces against each others, conquering small settlements, razing villages. The usual monotony of their undeath personified in a tedious game made for children, only service to pass eternity. He looked behind him, to the plain black-iron staff that had found it's owner by the first of the three. 

 

It went on. Murder by murder, direction by direction. Following the orders of the Dread Lord to the letter as they did their duty. Something about the game had reminded him of the chain of events, about cause, and effect. He remembered his whipping by the white rose, his entry into the druids, he wondered if he had never tried to hug the leader of the white rose, if he wouldn't of join the druids. If he'd of just been a normal, happy idiot forever. The thoughts soon escaped him. He had found a new meaning, and that meaning was service.

 

Existantialism was a prime concept in the beings life before death, and he found it an unnecessary truth in this as well, There is none. He conceded to himself, as he had been having that trouble all of his life. A false fairytale of mortal eyes. They did not want to bear the truth. He looked out to the figurative darkness, an ashen room, and embodiment of evil. This is all there is, now.

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.