Songbird's Query

[Ambduscias 1028]

 

   

 

Faceless, nameless. Those hurt weren’t people; it was simply a great reconciliation of numbers - the systematic trimming of redundancies from a whole, as each little light was snuffed and their flame forgotten in the bright illumination of what was so lovingly referred to as the Lordsoul. Committed atrocities didn’t stem from cruelty, today; on the contrary, the Intoner was feeling merciful. Those with pretty voices and quick minds - those deserving of continued existence - were given an opportunity to pick up where they’d once left off.

 

    The twang of loosed bolts and quarrels began a harmonic woodwind. From the bloody streets of old Adelburg, to the heart of the grove and the Ascended’s hold came the choir. This evening was no different. The aforementioned Intoner was flanked at his right by his lieutenant, Jack de Felsen, now since transcended into a form far greater than what he once was. At his left was the corrupted Paladin, lightguard turned servant of the Choir; he too was equipped with an arbalest. A simple device to load and aim, delivering death through a clean and mechanized payload.

 

    Tonight’s target was a group of Elves. There was nothing abnormal about that. One fell after another; one was grabbed, held upright by Jacque de Felsen. The deathless warrior’s fingers tightened about the throat of that poor soul, slowly choking the life from him. Black, bottomless sockets greeted his pleading; they expressed little in the way of emotion as response.

 

“A moment, Jacques. Lower him.”

 

The command was abided by. His compulsion was a thing of powerful magic, reliant upon the Necromancy he so cherished; a weapon that allowed him to guide his hordes of ghouls like clockwork, eternally obedient to his demands and expectations. It was a function he’d lacked in his life. The dropped Elf presumably squirmed and writhed, skewered through the breast with a suitably wicked bolt.

 

    All around them, death and battle ensued. The mortals had little going for them, and one by one, they fell and were taken by throngs of Undead. Many were eaten while they still lived, eliciting the most horrible groans and screams. Bloody gurgling became the most steady tempo of the evening. Nevertheless, the Intoner kneeled before the taken Elf.

 

    He believed he still possessed the capacity to empathize. Once, the Intoner was a Paladin. He believed he was still righteous. It wasn’t hatred that turned him away from the light of Xan; it was reality that taught him that Necromancy might serve a better purpose. Unlike the Great Protector’s arts, it was something of life. The alternative was a tool of war, intended exclusively to rend and destroy.

 

This was still the right thing to do, wasn’t it? With what he knew, with what was to come -- Man, Elf, Dwarf, and all else would need to be prepared. Regardless of the cost, what he did here was required. 

 

“It's a wonderful day. Take a moment to appreciate the weather and save your breath, but...”

 

A few weak gurgles followed. If it was speech, it didn’t come across as anything cohesive.

 

“Will you give me a song? I want something to remember you by.”

 

Spoiler

some cringeposting i felt compelled to post to solicit rep from off of discords. it's pretty gay and probably not a style of writing i'll use again, but it kinda gives insight into the frankly stupid amount of ghouls/spooks i've been mass producing and a little bit into the spooky necromancer. 

 

make a shitpost that's funny and i'll rep you

 

[JEEGK 1367]

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.