Broken Chains.

[Arkelos 1027]

 

In the Silence of night, the the cold of the Khorvadic Mountains, a lone figure walked upon the Dwarven carved halls of stone with a body upon her back, tied and dressed up in robes, white hair and blue eyes. This woman was knocked out cold as the figure carrying her, covered in black and red with golden trim, the fiery amber eyes flickering its gaze amongst the undead, the cultists were not allowed to join in on this, as she had no need for a cultist when an Undead could do what is desired.

Looking to Azaesil, the Zealot she nodded as she placed the woman upon the altar. A wide grin following this figure as she crossed her arms, lowering her head. She began to chant and call out for her god, her savior, arms extending upwards as she speaks



“Iblees, the one true god, I call upon thee, on this day I pledge my full devotion to you and you only.” she rasps out, looking to the bound woman “This is but a mere fragment of my past self, one I spent fifty years with, and I eagerly await to sacrifice her to you. I would do anything to please you, to follow you.”

Taking a deep breath, she draws her blade, a simple short sword as she leans over the body, “I managed to survive until the day you came for me, my savior, I did all this all for you and I to meet once more, and now I sever this chain, this chain of love. Love is but a weakness, it strains and weakens the heart, emotions get in the way of true desire.” she pauses to look upon the body once more, “And upon your name I ask for your praise!”

The woman takes a deep breath before diving the blade into the woman’s chest. she begins to let her thoughts race as she digs the blade in deeper. Certainly something was going on within as her eyes widened in pure bliss, and then nothing, content as she could be. She moved to carve the eye of Iblees into her stomach. From there she takes a cut of her finger dripping the blood into the center of the eye, letting it pool half way



“Bare witness, for I am yours and yours alone, Iblees. I already feel you embracing me, I need no more than your guidance. If you should grace me with your presence, even once in my life I would be honored, unworthy of such a thing.”

The figure rises, looking down on the corpse as she grins, “I’ll clean up the mess.” she nods to the Undead who had gathered. Then to The Zealot, bowing, letting him leave after exchanging some words, “This was to prove my loyalty as well, I will no longer need such things to keep me warm at night, for I feel closer to my goals, I can feel it all coming to fruition.”

And the robed figure would make her way down the hall with the corpse, as moonlight and the hash cold hit the skin, it would be revealed to be Elwen. Easily identifiable. The figure seems to drop the corpse off somewhere in the Khorvadic Lands, a spot picked at random, laying her on top of the snow as she whispered.

“See you, Elbell.”

[Drak3 442]

The night’s air was cool as it swept across the grass around the mountains of Khorvadic. Odd thumping and dragging sounds carried off across the distance as a few fiendish creatures stirred along. Constant groaning making it’s way from their rotting throats. Though these shambling corpses of the once living were not alone. With them moved a hooded and robed figure. The details on the individual’s attire were hidden under the blanket that dusk provided. They traveled onwards. Seemingly having no set course as they had finally had come to a clearing. The moon’s light barely giving off enough of a shine to illuminate the area.

With the sudden halt. the hooded figure leading the small pack of Ghouls steps forth a few feet. Unseen eyes now trying to make out the finer details set around the cold lands that once belonged to the Dwarven kingdom. Moving from the pack of flesh eating undead. The robed being moved to give itself some distance from the others. Looking up while pacing from the monstrous creatures that linger close by. Now separated, the figure raises both gauntleted hands to pull the hood back. Crimson colored hair then flowed downward to meet her shoulders and back. Giving away the faint features of what seems to be a dark elf female. Lifting a hand, she waved forth to the loyal undead that served.

As the female elf began to move again, she slowed as the faint outline of something was seen off by the hedgeline of trees. Squinting as the Ghouls behind her began to shuffle forth. Their rotting feet made an unholy rhythm that added to the inhuman groans and wails they let escape. Stopping, The elven woman pointed out a barbed finger towards the unknown lump that hid in the shadows. As the Ghouls came to her side. She let a faint whisper escape. Only loud enough for the creatures around to barely pick up on. With that being done. The Ghouls marched forth towards whatever nows rested in the shadows. As they neared to stop by it. The undead creatures each sent a light foot to tap the robed body.

The blood that swelled from the now dead body was cool. Covering most of the woman’s chest and stomach, now coagulated from sitting for some time in the brisk night's air. The undead servants that followed the redheaded female turn to growl and shuffle in place. As if to send a sign to their master. After some time of waiting. The unhooded female walked over to peer down. A gauntlet raising to be placed over her mouth as she gasped in horror. The sight of one she knew well. Some one Who had shown and taught her much of what she learned earlier in life. Anger and confusion now ran through her mind as she knelt to look over the broken corpse of Elwen. The Ghouls around the corpse and woman groaned and moved to stand nearby.

Their sunken in eyes constantly watching around for any signs of life to devour. But the only living one in the group didn’t hear them. Her mind now shut off from seeing one thing that stuck out. The eye of Iblees carved into her stomach was all the redhead had her sights on. The outline of blood that shown around where the cut was made. The same anger swelled inside of her, though pain and sadness also stuck deeply to her. A faint sniffle escaped the necromancer’s nose. A small sign that emotions were still apart of her. Standing to look back at the Ghouls. Some were barely held together, but they’d last for the journey back home. With her eyes cast upon the undead, she raised a gauntlet to send an order for them to carry the body along.

The loyal group of undead minions then shuffled over to lift the body of Elwen up. The redhead then waved a gauntlet. and with a slow step, she lead them off into woods. Leaving behind a small pool of Elwens own blood to mark the spot where the body was carelessly dumped off at.

[Roxforbraynz 251]

(( I've agreed to this PK. My character Elwen is dead. But her story isn't over yet. ))

[monkeypoacher 8055]

The Muyakelg bellows at the sky as plume of fire erupts from it's mouth, illuminating the darkness around it. As the smoke disperses into the cooling night air, the spirit feels an almost alien situation, pain, coursing through it's incorporeal body as it ever so slightly fails it's orders. It's head turns, gaze gravitating towards the mountain enclave of the Khorvadic empire. Rage coursed through it's spirit and it tensed it's tethered flesh, baring it's crooked teeth from it's mouth. A tongue of fire slid from it's mouth and it's feet smouldered tundra grass as it began to walk. It uttered, again and again in guttural, sloshing monotones, "Maukum..."

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

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