Descend Darkness

[Treshure 5817]

 

Deep within the caverns of the Cultists, ecstatic chanting blasted in high volumes, ricocheting off of the cavern walls and even outside of the pit of corruption. It carried out into the skies it's message of destruction. Corpses and barely alive individuals were dumped into a center pile, all in the powerful Ritual Sector. Crystals of all kinds hung from the ceiling, blood pooled on the floor, and bones stuck from the walls.

 

The Servants of Iblees lay within the Ritual Site's four protective arches, groveling on the ground to their Dark Lord and Master. Whereas they had been defeated at the Fortress of Knowledge, they were to be rewarded here for their longing loyalty to his cause. Their arms waved back and forth as their desperate chants all centered in the mass, where they exerted their very will upon the shrouded summoning.

 

 

In a matter of minutes two figures tore their way through, mist concealing their beings. And once it cleared, it revealed to two Spirits, hooked arms and seemingly together. Together they spoke in unison,  calling out to what the Cultists wanted, and what must of been done. For the deal had been made, and it must of been fulfilled. The Dark Beings inquired on the Cultists present, before screeching in a monotonous tone, their eyes set on the once proud Princedom. Their ethereal forms leaked from the captivating place of which they were ripped into this realm, and they poured through the gates and doors that safeguarded the Cult.

 

 

They shot across the sky, and the clouds that hung low over the Dread Lands and to the Fortress of Knowledge would have their new location. They dragged through the sky as darkness befell the ruined Princedom. Cultists approached the Princedom, hymns and praises to the Dark Lord rushing through the barren land. Men of all types slowly stopped their shovels to stop and stare; For what they have seen is not what one has or could of seen since the fall of Setherien.

 

 

Rifts began to open as savage creatures tore their way into the Fringe like that of someone shredding open a curtain. And they were enticed. And they envied.

They rushed the few men there, and they pushed them back. Horns triumphed the sky as midgets from the Dwarvish Legion came to clash with the creatures, and so they did.

 

 

Atop a mount did Zemophrenis stand, bound in a circle of blood. His hands waved to and fro as if leading an orchestra, a merry band of corrupted beasts. A figure clad in bright yellow robes began to ascend the mount, glaring up at the figure who had brought doom upon the land.

 

“I will cast you from this mount as I have your brothers. All will fall to the Dark Lord.”

“I don’t think so.” Hosper Blackthorn slowly draws his sword from the sheathe, wrought of holy flame.

Zemophrenis pulls out his longsword, glaring down the glint of it to the Cleric.

Thundering echoes come from below, as the Cleric was beckoned back downwards.

“You will be dealt with, in another time and another day.”

 

A miasma of corruption was unleashed onto the land, as the deal drew to an end. Over-extension reached, and after the corruption tainted the soil, the undead began to withdraw from the lands as they had before. Up rushed warriors from all races, climbing to the top of the mount. Zemophrenis glanced down at the circle protecting him, and to the advancing warriors. He swiveled on his heel, sprinting down and through brush. The chase had began.

 

An arrow pierced his leg, sending him crashing to the floor. The protectors pounced on him, making quick work of his fragile figure. And when they had descended back to the wretched location of where the taint stood ever so valiant, Zemophrenis’s body was carried to the Temple by random pass-byers. His body not of taint, nor unholy connections. And within the fortnight, he was released.

 

Only his thoughts bore the faint memories of the attack, knowing that since he had survived somehow all was not in vain. And much farther away from the Temple that forsaken place stood, pillars crumbling by the actions of mortal and celestial forces.

They could only rise from here.

 

[]

Shout out to Tsuyose and Tentoa for playing the Spirits!

[Pandasan 74]

Lanith gazes in amazement.

[hosper 77]

From the peak of the alter of Tahariea within Alras a dozen white doves fly in different directions with each as small parcel is held. Parcels are tied a small scroll to each bird, they knew its destination as they flew. The clerics resting across the land would soon receive the birds and the note attached. 

 

Brothers and Sisters

             It is with great sadness that I send you this letter. One would think that with the recent death of the great Wyrm we would have the chance for at least a short time of peace and purity. We were wrong. There are dark forces brewing and what appears to be a new Dark Prophet. He is coming into the world swinging and wishes to shed  blood. He has already stuck once. Corruption has taken hold in the former lands of the Snow Elves. We shall clear this corruption and show this is not to be stood for. I summon all of you to Alras till further notice. Cultists must be dealt with and darkness kept at bay.

Regards, Forseti of Wisdom 

[Jake the Dog 290]

Receives Hosper's letter, giving it the once over before he places it back down, holding a smile to his lips.

 

​"Looks like were back in business."

[dandan1350 479]

Ivanus swiflty reads over the letter in hand, crumpling it in large grip of his gauntleted hands. 

 

"I warned them to gather their strength, they would not do so at Setherien, nor when I called upon them for other answers. They will not recieve anything from me until the sender comes to the bottom of my tower and pleas the custodians help." 

 

He grunted, chucking the meshed up letter to the side, looking out over the vast fortress before him. 

 

"They questioned my judgement for too long..."

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

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