A Ghoul's Joy

[LeoRabbit99 360]

Word would get out of the attack on the Cathedral in Haense and the demise of the High Pontiff.

 

 

A cloaked figure concealed behind a hood stood before the large walls of Haense at the furthermost side. An eagerness sparked within his eyes. He was there for a purpose, and nothing would stand in his way. No man, no soldier...no bringer of light--no one. He leaned his head forward. He could remember how House Baruch, his own kin, severed his hand off in life for merely introducing himself as a Baruch, how they outcasted his father, and how they butchered his bastard brother. He remembered the church breaking their way into his home, destroying that which he held most dear. These were things he could not forget, and they rooted from Haense. He would have their heads, all their heads. His first target was Jude, High Pontiff of the Church of Canon. He gave the order for his town’s “purge,” and he would pay dearly for it. He unmasked himself--it was Richard, Creator of Monsters, whose life was ruined by the Church of Canon.

 

He could hear the prayers of the pope and his zealots in the distance, behind the sanctity of the walls and within the Cathedral of Haense. He loathed the hollars of their praise with every ounce of his soul. The pope would die, tonight. He twisted about on his heels, shuffling forward. As he moved, he was met with the handful of followers he brought with him. Some were apprentices, lied to with promises of power, some were men who only stayed because of the threat of their or their families’ lives, and some were like-minded, who only wanted revenge on a common enemy for the injustice they believed they were put through. It did not matter to Richard. They were all the same, nonetheless--all tools to be used for his revenge.

 

Richard was ready. He turned back to Haense, and so did his followers. They all gathered at the foot of the wall and looked up. A familiar man appeared at the top, returning the gaze downward. With a brief nod, he lowered a rope, allowing the attackers to ascend up the wall. Richard returned his hood to his head, seizing the rope with a wrathful grip.

 

 

The men made their way up the structure, swinging over the top part of the walls and onto the ramparts. The man who helped them in shoved the ropes off, quickly departing before caught. The group saw a carriage wheeled in by someone unknown next to the church. That was what they were looking for. One by one, they descended the wall, hitting the grassy floor. Quickly they rushed to the carriage, coldness radiating from it. It was stocked with Alchemist’s Fire, kept cool by thanium containers. Richard watched from ontop the wall as they carefully and silently unloaded the mixtures next to the side of the church.

 

Richard looked to the building, continuing to hear the chants of the Canonists. This would soon be a day they would come to dread as he and his people came to dread when they were attacked. He looked back to his forces. They were ready. Richard nodded, and they nodded back. One man reached into the cart, pulling a blue concoction from within. Uncapping it, he quickly downed the substance. Shortly, the mixture took its effects. His skin cracked as it warped into a rough, scaly texture, turning into an icy blue complexion. Coldness seeped from his form. He and the others took their positions a distance away from the pile of neatly stacked Alchemist's Fires.

 

He tossed a rock into the pile and the bottles shattered. The area protruded with flames, causing an eruption strong enough to carve a hole into the side of the stone made building. The transformed man was the first who charged through the entrance, the effects of his potion keeping him safe from the initial spark of the flame. He bolted toward Jude with a frenzied scream, his sword raised over his shoulder. The men of the church were loyal to their leader and quickly rose to his defense. They barricaded themselves around him as more men poured in.

 

A group of archers armed with bows followed in after. They knocked their arrows into their weapon, rearing the strings back and all taking aim toward Jude. They released their arrows, all flying directly for the Pontiff. The men of the Church stepped in front of the projectiles to save their leader, but they were helpless--too many were fired. A Few arrows found their mark in the High Pontiff’s chest, causing him to collapse. His body was quickly attended to, but it was too late...he was slain. The cries of the Canonists echoed as they mourned for their leader.

 

Richard stood outside, his normally expressionless face plastered with a wicked, toothy smirk. For years, over a decade, in fact, he was stuck in a form of rot, cursed to feast on living flesh, forced to watch everything and everyone he loved from afar, and treated like the monster he was. He hadn’t been happy for nearly 15 years, but the shrieks of his enemies indeed put a smile on his face.

 

 

The rest of Richard’s warriors and alchemists charged into the church, but it was of no use. Now that the guards were present, they were slaughtered almost the instant they stepped in, taking hardly anyone with them. Richard’s forces retreated, but his smile remained. His concern was not of his fodder, but his ace in the hole. A vicious roar was heard from behind Richard, beyond the walls. As the remaining Haense soldiers finished off the attackers, they moved outside, all gazing upon Richard. One stepped forth, taking a shot into his heart. The projectile implanted itself into Richard’s chest, causing him to stumble back. The ghoul merely stood back upright unpained, tilting his head with a grin.

 

Another mighty roar echoed from behind Richard, heavy steps pounding on the forest floors. A brief moment of silence overtook them before suddenly...a large paw gripped onto the top of the wall, heaving itself up. The defenders were faced with a monstrosity--a beast 16 feet in length that stood on all fours with disfigured skin, patches of missing fur, crooked, piercing teeth, and the tail of a giant scorpion. It growled fiercely, pouncing at the group.

 

 

The ghoul let out a chuckle as the defenders dealt with the threat, turning to leave…but he was intercepted by a familiar face. Quillian, one who knew and despised Richard in life.

 

"Cease." The woman growled out in a slightly ragged breath, blue orbs narrowed upon the stature of the cloaked figure - gladius soon withdrawing from her sheath against her back, a metallic groan sounded as she began forth.

 

Richard turned to face Quillian as she approached, his hands reaching into his cloak. They slipped out, drawing something from within. His hands went behind his back, and Richard tilted his head forth at the druid. "QuIlLIan. . ." He muttered with a cold groan.

 

"Thought you went to the damned grave." She snarled out with venom laced upon her tongue, eyes narrowing upon the stature of Richard - steps continuing forth.

 

He could not be captured, he told himself. With an uttered groan, Richard dropped one of the potions at his feet, causing the area around him to be clouded with a thick, gray fog. Richard then turned his back over the wall, rearing off the edge. His body snapped as it hit the floor, lifeless.

 

But his curse would not allow such a release. From his dead corpse, he eventually reformed--his bones aligned back into place and his skin pieced back together. He glanced toward Haense. The beast was destroyed, but a pleasant moan escaped his final smile as he heard the people of Haense grieve the High Pontiff. He then turned away, beginning to move to his next target.

 

Related Posts:

Spoiler

Part One: 

Part Two:

Part Three:

Part Four: 

Jude's PK Post:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Vindicant 642]

A cold wind blows, and only one is there to feel it. Karyssmov glances upwards at the wall where he had seen the masked Richard only a few hours before. "You fool. You've damned it all." he mutters out to no one in particular, before trudging back into the walls of Haense.

[Archbishop 1784]

Father Marcus writes a warrant for the devious and sinful Richard Baruch.

[Skylez 870]

An Automaton soon comes to learn of the Pontiff's death, as well vague details of the man, or thing who committed the act.

 

"Another well versed alchemist, even an artificer perhaps."
The thing drones within the confines of its shelter.

 

"An adversary, an obstacle."
It begins towards the South after some time, seeking the capital of Haense to learn more.

[firegirl7894523 247]

A young widow stands inside a particular place, in front of a grave. On hearing the news, she lowers her head, her hand reaching up to grasp the ring necklace she wore. She takes a deep breath, laying flowers on his pre-Ghoul grave. 

[Lhindir_ 3691]

Orsul the lich-lord bursts into laughter upon receiving news, wondering where his creation dwelled now.

[Farryn 860]

Elvira would hear the news and she would take a calm breath, standing up from her chair. She'd grab her two blades, Mesolavitis and Pyrakto, and attach them to her belt. Her eye pulsing with a brilliant teal glow.

She had ghoul to track down and end.

[Parkins 550]

 

From atop his decrepit throne, a cobweb covered lich remains entirely still, news of the lands and dead are brought to him by aging minions as he works some unseen study. A simple response is muttered by the corpse, his jaw never moving though the sound echoed off the chamber walls:

 

"The Ghuul will return, when they are required."

[KeiaTypeBeat 3281]

 

An old, dilapidated and rotted corpse with a large rat crawling in his eye socket would hear the news in one way or another. He smiles widely, popping his jaw out of place as he did so. He brings a skeletal hand up to his skull, pulling the rat by its tail and dangling it in front of his only remaining orb. 

 

“Do you.. you.. hear that.. hrm.. Chelsea?”

 

He breaks into laughter as his decaying brain slowly processes the information. 

 

“My br..br.. my brothers have.. they have.. they’ve been awful eh.. busy! Yes? Haha!”

 

He hums to himself, thinking his next choice of wording carefully. 

 

“I should join them!” Balmak screams out loudly, startling the rat as it begins to struggle within his decrepit grip. With a long, winded chuckle, he brings the upper half of the rodent’s fat, dirty body into his gaping maw, and with a hasty crunch, the rat ceases all movement. The morghuul drops his midnight treat, seemingly forgetting all about it, then slowly begins to shamble out of his forest home in search of what he calls his brethren. 

[Burnsy 437]

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.