So it ends.

[ThumperJack 927]

 

 

Demagol walks through the mountains as he usually does in the mornings. He tells people it's to get some fresh air out of those 'dusty caverns', but that is a lie. He travels far into the mountains to a small clearing in a patch of woods where a pile of large logs sit to his right, and an empty area covered in wood splinters to his left. Demagol inhales sharply, already feeling the same anger build up in his chest. With a huff, he goes to begin moving a log toward the wood splinter covered area when a loud crack of a snapping branch resounds from the trees behind him. He stops, letting even his breathe stoop to almost dead silence as his piercing blood red gaze watchs the treeline like an animal. After several minutes of simply staring, a group of ragged dwarves with various hair colors and skins make their way into the Doomforged's secret clearing bearing hateful expressions as they brandish axes and swords. Demagol sets down the log, moving to stand a few feet away from one dwarf that is obviously the leader. This dwarf was blonde and scarred, wearing leather and mix-matched metal plates. None of this seemed out of the ordinary, except for the black and grey beards the dwarf wore across his belt. Demagol immediately recognized them as Doomforged beards, as some still held beads and braids common to his clan. 

 

"Why are you here, dwedmar? And why do adorn yourself in that manner?" Demagol asks, the anger beginning to rise in his chest more and more as he starts to struggle to contain it. The blonde dwarf laughs, causing the others around him to rumble with chuckles and grunts. "Is our purpose not obvious, half-breed? Do those eyes make you blind as well as stupid?" The dwarf luaghs again, withdrawing a sword from the scabbard at his belt. He and his group moves toward Demagol now, the rest drawing axes and swords and hefting them in undisciplined manners above their heads and letting them swing around legs carelessly. Demagol shakes his head, thinking to himself how much of a sorry bunch this appears to be. However, blonde dwarf's stance is professional and confident unlike his men. Demagol drew his sword, a blade reinforced with Asgolian steel and a gift from a long-dead friend, and charged at them with a warcry in dwarven. He easily dispatchs the first two dwarves that clumsily swing their weapons at him, decapitating one and smashing the other's nose with his stone fist. The next dwarf that charges him falls just as easily, however makes way for the next to slash her sword across Demagol's face and cause a waterfall of blood to flow down his cheek. Demagol growls at the pain, kicking the woman to the ground and moves to end it when the blonde dwarf comes behind him and rakes his sword through Demagol's back and pushing him aside. The elder Doomforged stumbles into the log pile panting and gasping as he turns, blood soaking through the shredded cloth on his back and dripping onto the snow at his feet. The blonde dwarf laughs, "That hurts? Imagine what I'll do to your kin in Urguan. Their blood will fill the fountains and their beards will be the garb of my clan." He cackles as he steps closer to the wounded Doomforged, parrying a slash to his chest and delivering a swift punch to Demagol's burn-scarred face, sending him to the snow. The blonde dwarf kneels to grab a fistful of the elder Doomforged's long hair, growling, "I will burn them to the ground, like you did Kal'Agnar." The dwarf says, picking up Demagol's dark sword and shove it through his chest. Demagol gasps, the glow of his eyes fading like the life within him dies.

 

The blonde dwarf starts to laugh again, looking away from Demagol at his utter joy in killing the Doomforged. The female dwarf behind him stands, blinking at Demagol as the Doomforged'd glassy eyes rage into a fierce glow, "Iblees.. not me." The Doomforged shakily grabs the blonde dwarf's discarded sword and slides the blade through the dwarf's chest similar to his own killing blow. The two dwedmar sit there kneeling before eachother now with their own swords plunged into their chests, having a silent stand-off to see who dies first. The blonde dwarf fails, letting out a small hiss of air as he falls to his left and face first in the reddened snow. The female dwarf screams, running into the hills as two other Doomforged run into the clearing while patrolling the route Demagol had given them a few weeks prior, having heard the cries and clangs of steel from afar. However, they only make it halfway to Demagol as the glow of his eyes fades completely and his falls backward in the snow with his own sword sticking from his chest.

 

OOC:

So I've finally done it. Demagol's dead, no comebacks for him this time. I got tired of playing a character who'd already seen it all and done it all so I'll be playing his son and one of the nameless Doomforged above. Thanks to everyone who RPed with Demagol and made him one of (If not the one) favorite characters I've ever played.

 

 

[wytch 870]

Archimedes slammed his golem-fist into the table, his eyes flaring up with anger as the table cracked loudly, a roar escaping as he began to trash his room. "DAMN YE!" He'd ****** his weapon up, and storm off.

[Farryn 860]

Elvira would soon hear of the news after heading to the dwarven city, wanting to truly hear if Archimedes was dead. A lone dwarf told her what had happened, sending the Adherent deeper into her grief. First her ex-fiance, now one of her closest friends. The woman clutched the handle of her sheathed sabre, the very same sabre that Demagol had made her when she was offically connected as a cleric. The black iron flared with life as her platinum light danced within the fire engravings.

 

The Adherent remained silent on her way home, her gaze emotionless and blank throughout the whole journey.

[Daisy 9735]

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

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.