Magics Bane, an Ending.

[Archmage_Cataris 622]

Cataris walks along the gravel path, he feels a stirring in his mind, his mind began to grow cloudy, he found it hard to think. He faltered in his step, his purple tattered and dirty robes snag onto a branch, ripping them further, his right leg suddenly breaks, he collapses to the ground. He attempts to draw in the Necromantic powers to reattach the bone, but without success, a sudden overwhelming fear takes over him, of the likes he has not had since Iblees enslaved him. His hands begin a tremor, he shakes as he takes off the rings from his fingers and the wand from his inner robe pocket. He searches over the wand, an emerald gem sits in the hilt, the usually misty phylactery gem is no longer misty, it seems it has almost turned back to its original state once more.

Cataris knowing full well what that meant, he began to grow frantic, he attempted to crawl away but as he moved his legs fell from his hips, he was now dragging himself across the gravel, a primal survival took over, his mind would no longer listen, it only repeated "Flee!". His fingers snapped off, broken, he rolled over, his ribcage breaking as he rolled. He looked up to the sky, with his intact fingers, he peeled off the steel mask. The fleeting remnants of Necromancy that once powered him were all but gone from this world. His time was now over, he could no longer move his body nor his head, he lost his black and white vision and could no longer see. His jaw hang open, within his mind he saw his wife calling out to him, and beside her his daughter. Were Cataris human once more, he would weep at such a beautiful sight. His phylactery suddenly cracked open, the gem shattered into a dozen pieces. Cataris lay still, along a nameless road, without a mina to his name, all his fame and honour gone, only the infamy of his crimes would remain. The gem lay next to his lifeless skull, along with it his steel mask, carved in permanent sorrow.

[Arkelos 1027]

Either it be by luck or chance, a small figure walked upon this same road, the gem catching her eye as she walked to it slowly, spotting the mask and skull. She grimaced, picking up the steel mask as she sighed. Pocketing the remnants of the gem into a bag as she picked up the skull, frowning. Whispering gently.

"Anothe' fer 'he pile, an' some more goodies fer fun later~" Zarovia giggles, putting away the mask and remnants of the phylactery away, strutting off with the Skull in hand, something... big was going to happen.

[Viscen 356]

Another walk along the side-roads; it was a time of meditation, contemplation and peace for Velwyn Ashford. The particular trail bore little meaning in itself, yet the traffic was low, perfect for reflection. On this particular walk, however, a strong, malign breeze seemed to stir up the leaves and debris in perpetual toil. A set of ornate, purple robes caught Velwyn's eye as he strode down the path, the rended garments vigiriously flapping in the wind. Such an article of clothing invoked old memories, thoughts of a master long-past. Scattered bones and trinkets dotted the path ahead, only confirming the knight's suspicion. How the lich perished, he did not know. Such a pitiful ending would not do, no.

A small, fresh mound interrupted the sea of decaying leaves, the burial site backed by a dormant oak. A half-rotted plank rests atop the packed dirt, bearing a hastily-scrawled inscription. It reads, "Here lies Cataris ConDoin. May he find peace at last." Velwyn lightly smiled at the work, garnishing the burial site with a dandelion. Brushing his hands off, he gathers up the torn robes, wand, rings and assorted baubles, trudging back down the seldom-trodden path.

[E__V__O 2000]

The ice that surrounds Evark in his tomb begins to show slight cracks from the vibrations of the gem shattering as small ice pieces break off but Evark still frozen unaware of what is occurring but his surroundings tell that his brother has finnaly pardened from this realm, Evark's as with Laurina's soul gem begins to weep black running down as it vanishes surrounding the sorrows of their formal master that has passed on for an instant then the colour turns back towards it original state.

( ( Cataris you will be dearly sorrowed and missed I hope you have fun with the departure ) )

[Supremacy 3361]

Kalenz, after a few minutes watching he approaches the bones and reads the sign.

"The Ullrain'sair..." He sighs.

Kalenz immediately glances about and inspects the pile of bones. He searches for anything of value for a moment remembering Cataris's rings but finds nothing.

"Polgrath will be pleased to say the least." He mutters

Kalenz takes some bones of Cataris and sets it opon a rock. Taking a stone he smashes it on the bones repeatedly as if it would reinforce the death of the lich. He turns and walks down the path; his white robes ripple in the wind. As he walks away from the lich one final time he remembers the words:

"Fear is the weapon of illusion."

They repeat in his mind.

((Bye Cataris <3 I will miss you))

[Fredfort (jens6851) 283]

Tyret grumbles as he walks slowly down the road, supporting himself with his axe, using it as a climbing-stick, holding his other hand on his back.

As he moves closer a brow raises on his wrinkled face...

"Mhm... This wasn't 'ere yesterday.." He mumbles at himself... A habit that have appeared over the last few years..

As Tyret inspects the robes he tilts his head slightly, feeling a grim grin forming around his lips.

Tyret bends down, sighing and cursing his old age. He leans a bit forward and picks up a small bone, putting it into a leather pouch.

"Noaw... Lets continue... Shall we?" He speaks at himself, chuckling at himself as he wanders down the road.

((Good luck with everything Cataris. <3.. And dat Helo Music... Brings forth good times.. :) ))

[Merkaken 516]

((A very dramatic but beautiful end. Kinda wish I had the chance to roleplay with you. Truly =/))

[Heero 4092]

-Reserved for later post.-

[Josh △ 87]

(( That was a very very beautiful read... breaks my heart to see you go.

[Arkelos 1027]

Zarovia, after many days of traveling back to her home in Alras, takes the mask back out, staring at it as she sighs voice shifting for a brief moment as she seems to speak to it.

"My my... what a pretty gift I was given... especially these gemstones. This mask is gonna be my mark on this world, and the rise of the Monarch..."

Zarovia takes her circlet off her head, looking to the hole on the top of the mask, curiously, she slides the jetting stone into the slot, connecting. She grins as her voice shifts once more. Talking in a much thicker dwarven accent.

"Time fer ye ta make rise, ta my clan... my creatures... ta become loike 'he nigh'. Today marks 'he beginnin' of the Age of Shadiss."

A shadowy figure slithers across the floor, curling up against Zarovia's leg as she picks it up, placing it around her neck gently. She looks back to the mask, placing it on for the first time.

"Time ta begin..."

[Tentoa 3161]

Akal eerily trudges down the gravel path his foot skidding against the loose rock below him, until a the grave of what appears to be a bystander catches his eye. The lithe, shadow-cloaked figure would lean over the grave, his head twisting as he reads the sign before him. A slight smirk would tug at his lip, before a dry, humorless and grim giggle would arise from his throat, slowly evolving into an fierce, earsplitting cackle fueled by insanity.

"No more~ The hunter is no more!"

The gleeful male would pick himself up from the ground, giggling wildly to himself as he departed, the last of his "Hunters" now but a memory of this world.

[Sagwort 833]

Ambros approaches the grave and looks at the pile of bones and other properties of Cataris, now covered by dust and mud from the many that crossed the road not knowing who lay here. He takes off his wide brimmed pointy hat and places it to his heart looking down over the once proud mage. Leaning on his staff he begins to murmur words under his breath.

"Very few will know this man

Few will know his tale

Racing fate itself he ran

And now he has prevailed

Hiding he was from the mist

The mist that came with death

Those he knew did not assist

When the gates of hell did crest

Into shadows he did fall

Unaware of the sins

He answered when vengeance called

But it was but a wolf in sheep skin

He earned this title

Being quite a powerful caster

And now it could not be more vital

And so I call him master

Now here he lies

Finally at rest

Never to arise

He completed his life quest"

At that Ambros puts on his pointed hat and places a single poppy flower within the bones and takes up his staff, walking off.

[Guest Guest]

Laurina wanders on the road, noticing the corpse, before the steel mask was taken. She inspects the odd lifeless skeletal figure laying on the gravel path. Noticing the mask she bends down to take a close look. She releases a soft sigh, as she picks up the piece of metal. Her skulls turns to the right, taking a quick look at the corpse, then turns back to the steel mask as she flips it over to finally notice a familiar shape. Running her skeletal finger down the cheek of the mask, she notices the shattered gem from the corner of her socket. As she turns to have a better view, the lich puts the mask down as flesh drips from slight cracks in her skull onto the steel mask. After staring at the shattered gem, she stands. Laurina stares down at the lifeless skeleton as she speaks a few words:

"Farewell brother. Shall your broken soul rest in peace in the afterlife. You were confused, you did not know what you wanted or what you lived for anymore. Your family taken away from you and your ambitions destroyed. I now hope, that you will forever be with your wife and daughter within the second life. You were my greatest friend."

Laurina turns away and takes a few steps forwards as she takes a moment to think of her times with Cataris. She suddenly twitches as she feels an odd aura, as if she was here before, but not here. She shakes the feeling off and walks into the dark forest in the distance, her bones cracking back into place.

[Botar 39]

Botar Stumbles down the road, Twirling his cane and smiling, enjoying his vacation greatly, traveling down the dust road when he notices in a small mound of dirt, a bit of white poking out of the soft brown.

Curious he bends down to examine it, taken aback finding that it is a skull, frowning he goes to put it back when he see's the post of wood, and the name upon it.

He recognizes the name, and the memories of time past come back to him, the army, the talks they had, the time they had found his city unlocked. Good memories.

He turns down to the skull and lets out a ragged sigh, placing it back down gently and properly covering it, making sure the poppy flowers are put back into place, also putting something of his own in the grave, A small round bottle of clear blue liquid, something from the past.

Botar stands back up and dusts off his pants, hearing his wife Namalii call for him, turning to the grave one last time and bowing, and smiling, hoping his friend will have a good rest.

( Take care my scarred friend, and may real life treat ya as good as we have)

[Baconthief 682]

(Before the mask was taken)

The man once known as Skyler walks down the path, his mind fixated on the conflict that engulfs his troubled family. The mental battle rages on, causing him to step atop the wrist of the skeleton with no notice. He hears a crunch and looks down at his feet, and sees Cataris looking up at him.

At first he expects to see a bow laying next to him, given that all skeletal creatures seem to carry one. His eyes glide across the body but lock seeing the mask. At first instinct his hands tremble and his arm hair raise in sheer terror. He will never forget this mask, it was worn by the man who stole something very important in a manner most traumatic and horrific for a young boy. The crusher of his dreams, the destroyer of his youth, and the master of the man who ruined what was left of his life.

His hands calm and a small smile slowly formulates, as he sees no reaction from the corpse that he is stepping apon. The man who was second on his list of revenge has been removed, with no effort from him at all. He kneels down, looking the mask that has haunted his dreams for years. He shows no fear now, contrasting the last time he gazed upon the mask. The former skyler says out loud "It seems I have the last laugh." He stands up and walks away, his day slightly brighter and merrier.