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| To Those Who Would Seek Death; Graham | |
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| Topic Started: Mon Jul 25, 2011 8:46 am (416 Views) | |
| Sebastian | Mon Jul 25, 2011 8:46 am Post #1 |
 
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Sebastian could smell it in the clammy air. There were traces of the undead everywhere around him. He had never been one to chase wives' tales, but intuition had led him to this place, and now it was his own vile magics that told him he had found what he sought. Fiends and devils were no longer of the swordsman's concern. Sebastian had seen first hand the power of the black sorcery of necromancy, and he desired that power. He had devoured what little he could learn from spellbooks and journals, but he needed more. He needed to find an intelligent member of the undead, one who could teach him how to fissure the connection between his soul and his body so that he, like his father once was, could be free of mortality. The chattering of halfway sober bar patrons in sleepy villages throughout the Hills still rang clear in his mind. There were stories in these hills of the mindless undead, slaves to their own rotting bodies, roving the Hills of Mist, as far as Izmet's Field, and even Kellen Village. According to some of the men, the zombies were not without a master. The Hills were haunted by a terrible phantasm, one more clever and horrifying than any of the soulless drudges beneath him. The deathly revenant made his home somewhere in the area, and few had been brave enough to seek him, but those who sought him in the past did so for glory, for treasure, for self-proclaimed righteousness, or for vengeance. None before Sebastian had sought the dark spirit for power. Overheard words had painted a map in Sebastian's mind; the Hills of Mist were a vague series of ground zeroes, and the swordsman's head was a mess of theories and hypothoses. With a little luck and the right atmosphere, this night would be the night everything changed. |
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| Graham Sideas | Mon Jul 25, 2011 9:24 am Post #2 |
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He had been painfully aware of the living creature stalking his lands, though he wasn't aware of the man's intentions. It didn't much matter, really, so long as the living wandered the lands he claimed he wouldn't relax until they were no longer living. A wave of his hand and the first undead that the man would meet went forth, the spirit of the young boy Phillip. The little form rushed ahead, circling the man as he examined, thinking of a good way for him to weasel his way ahead with this plan. He could feel the anchor that tied him to this plane press in, and as the boy walked in front of the man Graham allowed the man to see the boy as a smile crossed over the young, pale face. "It's always a shame to see a good lad like yourself wander into the mists. To make this really fun, why don't you run a bit? Maybe cry?" Phillip laughed, the emotionless tone of his voice enough to make it run a normal man's blood cold. The young boy drifted backwards through the air as his smile widened, and figures began to shift in the mix. Graham was stationary where he stood, not an ounce of his will even left in his body as it was channeled into each of his minons. Their chant could be heart, whispers that seemed to drift just out of ear shot for the figure that came into his domain. Then he could hear them as they got closer, the whisper of their voices barely an echo to a normal man's hearing. Their voices, however, were not natural, an echo of the thoughts passing through their minds. "Yet they live... yet they live... yet they live..." The chant echoed eternally and as they got closer, their voices mingled into a single sound that was like the chattering of a crowd of voices. As they got close enough he could see them, he could see their mouths drooling and slavering, the only opening in their faces that wasn't stitched tightly shut. Their flesh was also stitched in many places, much of it burned and scorched until it was wrinkled and tight like leather. They were his personal vanguard, and each of the seven of them had natural weapons carved into their bodies. And each of them had his brand burned painfully into their heads, and as their hoods fell the man was able to see it, the symbol of the harvest moon overtaken by thorns burned perfectly into their already scorched foreheads. Graham focused his entire will into one, it's tongue licking it's lips-part of it falling to the dirt below. His entire body would be a beacon of black fire were anyone to look upon him with wraith sight. Phillip returned to his master's side, watching the march of the seven as they went for the man. His master didn't often send that many after one man, the ghost wondering if he sensed something different about this one. Something that brought a smile to the phantom's face. Something the boy had never seen before. |
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| Sebastian | Mon Jul 25, 2011 9:56 am Post #3 |
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Sebastian's hands immediately went to his blades as the smiling child materialized and he stopped dead in his tracks. The child hadn't been there before; it had certainly come from no where. He allowed magic to flow through his senses as he examined the boy more closely, and he could sense the reek of undeath. The little boy was, as Sebastian had expected, a phantom. "It's always a shame to see a good lad like yourself wander into the mists. To make this really fun, why don't you run a bit? Maybe cry?" the child said, his voice tinny and emotionless, and the hairs on Sebastian's neck tingled. The cryptic message echoed in his head and with each soft repeat, it was only more disturbing than the last. Sebastian started to follow the boy as he hovered away, simply floating backwards as his eerie grin seemed to stretch impossibly across his face, but he stopped before he had even taken a step. The ghost was surely a lure of some sort, pulling the swordsman deeper into the mist, like the glowing appendage of some horrid fish, luring its prey into deadly, waiting jaws. "Yet they live... yet they live... yet they live..." With the sound of metal sliding on metal, Sebastian's twin blades were drawn and immediately, he began to notice movement, deep into the mist. Shadowed figures lurched closer and closer, but still, the bounty hunter strained to see them, squinted his eyes as he peered toward them. "Yet they live... yet they live... yet they live..." Their gruesome chant resounded endlessly through the night, yet the grisly syllables carried the sensation that they were not spoken. It was as though those words were not heard with the ears, but with the skin of the forearms and the spine, where tiny goosebumps formed, receiving the repeated message and translating it into words. "Yet they live... yet they live... yet they live..." The chorus of whispered voices grew louder and louder as finally, the figures came into view, and for one brief moment, the swordsman was paralyzed by the sigh. There were seven vile abominations, creatures that may have once been human, or humanoid, Their features were sewn up completely, their eyes, noses, and ears no longer present. Only dripping, slobbering mouths remained. Their bodies were badly disfigured, with crude weapons carved out of the seemingly elongated bones of their arms. Their skin was dried and browned and leathery, and the stench of rot followed them, tickling the back of Sebastian's throat and raising bile into his mouth. Every one of them was hooded, but the hoods fell back as they closed in, and it was revealed to Sebastian that each one of them was marked with a thorny moon isnignia, the brand of some gruesome devil. Such were the horrors of necromancy. As the abhorrant drudges, seven of them, marched towards Sebastian, his eyes were opened to the beauty of death and undeath. These creatures were monsters, but these creatures were each works of art. It would be a pity to have to tear them apart. |
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| Graham Sideas | Mon Jul 25, 2011 11:15 am Post #4 |
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The first of them moved in, it's tongue moving over it's teeth as it's claws flew forward. Each of the weaponized pieces of flesh on the creature's body was serrated and sharp, building it into a 'living' weapon that was merely an extension of a much more sinister will. Graham forced his iron will into each of the seven, his power overtaking each of them and causing them to press on harder. They were knelt over and crooked, their movements more akin to beasts then the men they used to be. They each came in after the first, claws and teeth coming in to claw and bite and rend their target. There was no real hint to what their enemy would do by their actions, all they knew that they needed to kill him. All regards of defense or safety were tossed out the window, the only tactic the undead truly showed was the ability to overpower their opponents with speed and numbers. A smile crossed Graham's face as the first one neared it's target. He felt a kinship to the lad who had invaded his home, a part of him telling him this was much like the moment years before when he had come to his master. He was not as calm or collected about it as his master, however, any thought of order or mercy gone from his mind when his soul was shattered. If the boy truly was how Graham thought he was, he would be tested first. The greatest one is one tempered in flames. Phillip watched the fight, moving back and forth between his master and the field. He wasn't much of a fighter himself but the exhilaration he felt at watching one was something he hadn't felt since alive. He didn't know that, of course, every memory of his life long since snuffed out. He was simply a ghastly apparition now, held under the iron will of his master. His anchor was a mark tattooed into his master's back, something that made the two rely on each other more then either one would be willing to admit. "Are you sure this is wise, master?" He turned his head to look up at Graham, the phantom having materialized his body without realizing it. There was nothing of his master awake right now, bringing a frown to Phillip's face. Such zealotry in his actions was never good, the last time his master had given such focus into his undead was a time when he had lost control and nearly died. And a time when he was making Lucius. The young boy could remember both moments clearly, his master becoming barely a whisper of his composure and power. This time was a bit different, he could feel it. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, however. The undead were ravenous in their charges. Some of them knocked the others away in an attempt to converge on the man, some clawed at one another to open wounds that oozed black pus and embalming fluid that their master used to make their bodies more resilient. The first to come in seemed to unhinge it's jaw in a rage, attempting to bite straight at the boys neck. All they knew was the rage that came with their existence, and the only thing they heard in their minds beyond their own voices was the order to kill repeated over, and over, all manner of sanity to stave off the maddening voice long since burned from their consciousness and mind. |
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| Sebastian | Tue Jul 26, 2011 7:36 am Post #5 |
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With so many coming upon him at once, taking a defensive position would be dangerous. To try fight off so many of the ghouls at once would be suicide; Sebastian would have to kill as many as possible as quickly as possible. Their number was overwhelming, so fast action would have to be the order of the evening. As the first of the pod attacked, lunging for Sebastian's neck with its yellowed teeth, the swordsman brought his first blade, the one in his right hand, down hard, sweeping its razor-edge towards the monster's face, hoping to bat the fiend away and be quickly on to the next one. As he struck in one direction, towards the first of the creatures, he also stabbed at a second of the ghastly zombies with his left hand, directly in front of him, hoping to cripple it before it could even make its first attack against him. Sebastian's azure eyes caught the harvest moon emblem again, and this time, for the first time, he payed real attention to them. There was one in each zombie's scalp, and they appeared to have been painfully burned into the flesh, probably while they were conscious, possibly while they were still alive. This was clearly the mark of the legendary phantom haunting the Hills, the one he had heard so many gruesome tales about. Was it possible that the child Sebastian had seen before was the violent spirit? It certainly hadn't seemed as powerful as the bounty hunter had expected his query to be, yet it heralded the approach of the other two. Somehow, Sebastian could feel Graham's presence, though he may have been unaware. The way his hair stood on end, or the way that every slight breeze, despite his concentration on combat, sent tremors down his spine. It could be the unnatural cold that seemed even to chill the frostborne magician, whose tolerance to low temperatures was unmatched. There was something dark and ethereal clinging to Sebastian's heart, something that told him he was being haunted by a thing not meant for this world, a creature lurking between the voids of the Abyss, and the material planes of Chaon. |
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| Graham Sideas | Tue Jul 26, 2011 3:32 pm Post #6 |
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They came at him unrelenting, even those that had taken wounds. The wounds inflicted on each glowed with a sickly green light and slowly stitched themselves shut, the internal damage barely repairing enough to keep the body moving. They were merely a distraction, two of the undead that had approached the figure in the mist having disappeared from the fight as it started. They had work that needed to do. Another of the undead severed it's connection to it's master as a blade slapped into it, dropping to the dirt in a mock show as if the man had successfully killed one of them. Another distraction all to setup a much greater plan hiding in the mist. The remaining four kept fighting, the one that he batted away twisting into a heaped mess on the ground, raising it's mangled hand to break it's jaw back into place, one of it's teeth remaining in it's hand as it pulled it away. A cruel grin crossed it's face as it waited for it's next order. The second of the lifeless ones took a blade in it's gut, jerking backwards and reaching for the man's arm in an attempt to pull him forward-making him defenseless against the other two's assault. Their fingers were slick, however, rot and grime having long since taken over where oil would once grow along their flesh, the undead slithering and twisting onto the ground before flopping like a fish out of water. For a moment, it almost raised itself back to it's feet. Almost. A figure that was barely visible in the mist slammed it's humanoid foot into the undead, crushing it's neck entirely. Seele had heard it's master's call as soon as the first undead severed it's connection to the necromancer, the creature made perfect for battles in such invisible terrains. It's flesh glittered for a moment before recommencing it's camouflage, the chameleon flesh that replaced that of a man's blending in with the dirt around him as he circled the man, the undead that remained alive coming in on him like ravenous beasts. The three struck with claw and tooth like barbarians, trying to stamp out the flame of light that perverted their home. Seele, however, was not pushed by such motivation. The beast waited behind the man, waited for him to engage in battle against the three before preparing for his jump. As he heard flesh pounding against metal he charged, his entire form bounding on foot and hands like a hound running towards it's prey, bounding towards the man as he neared in an attempt to ram directly into him. Graham's concentration didn't lessen, but it did split between two missions. His undead were merely distracting the man, going for wounding blows and pain in an attempt to drive him into a rage. He wanted to see how he would react to such things, to see if he could keep his head on his shoulders during the fight. If he couldn't? He'd die. If he could? This would be very interesting. But there was one test that he couldn't resist tossing at the intruder, one that he hadn't been able to test since his battle with that ranger, the one who he had fought once before, a long time ago. It was all irrelevant, regardless. The two undead that had left the battle came up behind their master, a cart pulled behind them. The cart was full of spare body parts and bones, a multitude of things set around it's entire surface that looked more like an irregular bin then an organized collection. Each had a purpose, however. At the very end of the cart, a skull sat with a partial axe-blade carved from bone planted into the center of it's face. He would need another cart of bones and parts before it could be made- and an important artifact he had hidden on his person-but it would be coming very soon. |
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| Sebastian | Fri Jul 29, 2011 9:27 am Post #7 |
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Sebastian grinned with satisfaction as he felt his razor-sharp steel pierce two of the zombies, dropping one, gutting another. Each time his weapons struck their knotted flesh, the swordsman felt a soothing rush of cold air against his skin as his weapons unleashed tiny clouds of freezing mist to incapacitate their victims. The undead were supposed to be relentless, but already, four had fallen to the frostborne genasi. Two of the monsters appeared to be destroyed, slain by Sebastian's enchanted weapons, and the other two had retreated, but it couldn't have been fear. There was something else going on. This was a part of their animator's design. The two that hard retreated clearly served a far more sinister purpose; the frostborne would not drop his guard. As the remaining three zombies came in upon Sebastian, he prepared to bring his blades down again, he suddenly heard a sound from behind him like the charge of a wild beast. Something was coming, and it was large. The bounty hunter whipped around immediately and saw nothing, only a strange ripple somewhere on the ground in front of him, when suddenly, his feet were taken out from under him. Sebastian landed gracelessly on the cold, frosty ground, his left-handed sword tossed to the side, and he was quick to pick himself up. Already, the three remaining minor zomibes were closing in. He still hadn't seen what had struck him, but he had certainly been struck. With his now free hand, Sebastian drew a long dagger from his belt. The blade was roughly nine inches long, and its handle was bone-white, intricately carved to resemble a rather malicious-looking, tusked whale. The hilt was, in fact, carved from the horn of a narwal that had washed ashore near Striberg. The genasi hadn't made the weapon himself, but he had been acquainted with the he who had, and had been given the enchanted knife in exchange for performing a hit-job in the city. The kill, with the aid of the dagger, had been incredibly clean. Since then, the weapon had been a favorite of his. Its blade was a silvery blue, and ice-cold, forged from a material found only in the frozen north that was like ice itself, even in that, when left in hot weather, the blade would melt away, requiring days of regeneration in the cold to become usable again. Thankfully, in these shivering, misty hills, it was cold enough to keep the magic blade frozen. Sebastian brought his icy dagger down upon one of the three remaining zombies, still keeping his eyes peeled for signs of the camouflaged assailant that had knocked him off his feet. |
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| Graham Sideas | Fri Jul 29, 2011 7:50 pm Post #8 |
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The undead pressed in on Sebastian with less zeal as Graham's concentration was broken, the object he was waiting for coming to him in the hands of a cultist. It was contained in a box of pure onyx, it's surface seeming as pitch black as the gloves that held it tight. The bones behind the Necromancer began to rattle and shake as the box opened, an orb setting upon a satin pillow within. He materialized fully and lifted the object into his hands, a smile crossing his face as he looked into the cultist's eyes. "How would you like to serve your master?" Before the cultist could respond, Graham reached into the slab holding the bones, pulling a mace that he had requested for some time earlier from the pile of them. As the cultist opened his mouth, he swung the mace around and slammed into the man's face, the crack resounding from the blow enough to sicken a normal man. The man's body convulsed as it hit the ground, and as it entered it's death throes Graham lifted the small orb, draining the man's soul into it's pristine surface. Another small glittering light in it's beautiful surface. The undead slackened and fought, the last of the three stopping and shaking in the middle of combat, easily being struck down as they pressed in on the man that stood before them. Seele felt no change in himself, Graham's will completely overshadowing him and keeping his will resolute. The creature's body rippled in the air, becoming a solid black color for a moment as it stood on it's two feet to it's full height-almost three meters. A hissing noise came from the creature's throat as it's shivered, it's charred flesh rippling over it's surface to blend it in with it's surroundings once again. Crouching low to the dirt, it's secondary eyelid lowered so it could see through the mists, the beast sprinting over the dirt to break some distance with the skilled swordsman, circling around the man like a hunter. It could smell blood, and it was blood that it lived for. It began to see red as it rushed as hard as it could towards the man's left side, fangs barred and ready. Graham held the orb in both of his hands, his eyes closed tight. The bones on the slab began to shake and grumble as they rose into the air, forming into a ghastly form in the air in front of them. It formed with two large arms, a spine forming into a tail. As it floated into the air, Graham lifted a hand to remove the clasp from his cloak, the material wrapping around it's neck to cover the bones as the cultist's spirit moved towards the surface of the orb in his hands, tearing itself from it's recesses to meld into the beast that Graham had risen. The body and the soul became one, necrotic energy rippling through it to twist and torment the spirit, tearing away what it had known of itself not moments before. "Awaken, my beautiful Lapochka..." The beast had no voice, it's newly given life coursing through it, it's eyes burning with a spectral blue flame. As Seele fought on, it's new brother slammed it's skeletal fingers into the dirt, pulling itself towards the battle. It could barely float over the earth thanks to the bone holding it together from within, it's arms acting as it's legs until it could find it's quarry. It's purpose was simple, and it had little time to complete it; Destroy. |
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| Sebastian | Fri Aug 5, 2011 1:47 am Post #9 |
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Sebastian's slender swords flew, like slim silver dancers in the misty night air. The dancers were beautiful, but they were also deadly, their bladed edges hacking into undead flesh like hot steel through wax. The small zombies were no longer a threat, merely fodder for the frostborne swordsman's wicked blades. As the genasi fell into his rhythm, he became a veritable whirlwhind of steel, even five, seven, ten zombies being to few to stand a chance against his dangerous proficiency with his patchwork dual blade technique. Though Sebastian's weapons moved like liquid, his mind raced incredibly. The exact location of the stealth-beast who had caught him once was a mystery. He couldn't see it, but there was a monstrous, invisible creature nearby, a threat that would, if it got another accurate blow against the swordsman, tear him to pieces. His swords worked like a machine, without consciousness, almost by themselves, but his eyes, his ears, and even his skin, strained with all of his concentration to locate the camouflaged abomination in the mist. Suddenly, Sebastian's blades caught the zombies in three rapid strokes, one after another, and oddly, all three of them fell before him. The genasi's eyes caught what they were straining for, however, and his curiosity about the sudden deaths of his previous undead adversaries disappated. His query had been located, as its body stood on two legs, its camouflaged enchantment shimmering about its hulking form, revealing a slender black body. Sebastian turned and poured all of his concentration into keeping his eyes locked on the creature's location. Not to his surprise, the thing once again became invisible before attacking, but Sebastian was prepared for it. He listened for the creature's hissing breath, its pattering feet. He watched for its footfalls in the wet grass below him. It came from the left, and Sebastian turned. He could feel the monster's head breath on his arms as he struck out with both blades, pushing their points towards where its face would be. The momentum of the attack would no doubt knock over the swordsman, but, if it was unable to dampen its speed, Sebastian's weapons would immediately gore the creature's head, hopefully incapacitating it. In the distance, the genasi heard the rattling of bones, but he payed it no mind. |
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| Graham Sideas | Fri Aug 5, 2011 7:20 am Post #10 |
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There was little that the undead could do to stop it's impending doom, it's ravenous nature becoming the death of it. It's eyes were filled with hatred and malice as it pressed forward, a sickly sound of flesh and bone snapping open resounding over the silence of the hills. It's own momentum was the worst of it, the body jerking and twisting in an attempt to escape the fate that it brought upon itself. When they landed in the dirt, what was left of it was a twisting mass of flesh, desperately trying to bring itself back together. As far as his master was concerned, however, it was merely another sacrifice. So long as there were others, so long as death remained within this world, the loss of a few soldiers meant nothing against the resolve that Graham Sideas had. And he would give little rest to the man who had trespassed in his home, the man that he felt no fear from. All that could be seen at first in the mist was the spectral glow of the beast's eyes, glaring from beneath the cloak it had pilfered from it's master. It was moving closer in to face it's prey, and it would have blood within the hour. If it didn't, then it wouldn't truly matter. And if the boy could survive the hour, the Phantom smiled at the prospect of showing his face personally. It was something that he rarely did, something he hadn't done since his days as a Lich. At least, not beyond the battle with that ranger, though he didn't count a personal grudge to count towards that much. All of that didn't matter now, however. The beast finally became visible in all of it's splendor, with it's arms pressing into the dirt and holding itself to a height of around twelve feet, a strength in it's limbs rather rare of it's skeletal kind. The phantom could feel the rage in the cultist he had implanted into the wraith, the feeling of betrayal as it bounded towards it's target. There was nothing it could do against it's master, not in this form, but what it could do to it's enemies? That was a different story. So it's rage had a channel, and the burning fire in the pits that once housed eyes of the skull upon it's neck hinted that the genasi in front of it was going to be that channel. It tried to open it's mouth, the bottom of it's jaw falling limply into the dirt and the scream it wished to emit coming out as silence. The wraith clenched it's skeletal fists and dragged itself forward, pounding it's fist hard into the dirt near the lad, bringing up it's other fist to swing in a wild hay-maker towards him as hard as he could. It's spine twisted like a tail, slamming into the dirt and twirling like a snake as it tried to drill and pound shapes into the grass until it became dust. The dew that often formed on the grass here sprayed into the air with each blow and it's entire body shook under the strength of each blow. It was trying fiercely to kick and use legs that were no longer there, legs that it rightly should have. Graham had put too much faith in the power of the spirit, however, hoping it would graft it's ability to fly into the bones that he placed into the wraith. It would be a hurdle it would have to get around. It's jaw shook and shuttered in the dirt, attempting to crawl back towards it's skull. It wouldn't make it, but everything of it's form and it's master's will screamed that it needed to be whole, needed to fight. It needed to kill, or it's very existence would be for naught. It pressed on, pounding it's fists forward like pistons. One hay-maker became a series of punches and slams of fists that went past the single digits and pushed into numbers that the cultist couldn't count to in life, let alone in death. Counting them didn't matter, however, executing them did. All the while, the Phantom stood still, running his fingers over the surface of the vault. He could hear the screams of the thousands within, he could feel the strength that was held in every soul within. There were so many beautiful things one could do if you could harness the power of the mortal soul, so many beautiful things... He strengthened his will, feeling every movement of his beautiful Lapochka in his very bones, or at least it felt like he did, his corporeal body long gone and his possession of bones being merely speculative on his part. He was quite sure any hint of bone or flesh that was truly his was lost in that cavern beneath the earth, that beautiful, dank and dark place that he could truly call home. |
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| Sebastian | Fri Aug 5, 2011 8:33 am Post #11 |
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Sebastian was flung meters behind the defeated Seele, propelled by the weight and momentum of the body. His landing was graceless, but it could have been worse. He had managed to avoid being crushed by the zombie's writhing corpse. The creature tried to fight still, to repair itself and carry on the battle. It was pathetic, really, almost said, and it gave Sebastian enough time to get off the ground, straighten himself out, and adjust his balance and his grip on his blades. Only enough time for that, however. With an earthshaking thud, a nearby monstrosity brought down its skeletal paw in the earth. Sebastian only saw its glowing blue eyes, flickering in the gloom. Those two shining orbs, spectral, like will-o'-whisps over a swamp, were enormous. The monster behind them was no doubt as enormous. "You're no phantom, abomination," Sebastian called into the mists, adressing the skeletal monster before him, but calling out for Graham himself. "You call yourself master, yet you hide from me, a mortal." His voice was calm, cold, even mocking. The word mortal was harsh on his tongue; the lowest insult he could throw had been delivered, and he even felt slightly hurt himself at the thought of being so low beneath the phantom. A mortal. More sounds, bone scraping moist earth, weight pounding into the ground, the chattering and cracking of bones, something gigantic being dragged towards him. Slowly, those haunting eyes got bigger until the monster's face was in plain view. It was horrifying. An inhuman skull, its jaw hanging off its hinges, several times the size of a regular skull, sat between two enormous, bony claws. It dragged itself closer, and more of the beast came into view. Its arms, long, hulking, almost as if they'd been fashioned from leg bones and reinforced with osofied armor. Its shoulders, powerful, nearly as broad as Sebastian was tall. The creature's body was cloaked in a tattered black rag, but it clearly had no functional legs, dragging itself on the ground with its mighty paws. Sebastian whispered a word of command and his swords were immediately immersed in faintly glowing blue sheaths, auras of deadly cold. He would need all the firepower he could get to defeat the creature. Commencing his whispering again, Sebastian allowed magic to flow freely through his body, channeling a simple curse that he could throw at even an undead target. The bone golem, a hive of negative energy, was now stationary on the groud, and its fists flew towards Sebastian like wrecking balls as he cast his spell, careful to stay out of the range of each bone-crunching assault. One strike from those hulking fists and Sebastian would be reduced to a fleshy puddle. It was difficult for Sebastian to focus, but he forced his will into the arcana he spun as he danced away from the pulverizing fists. As his short incantation was completed, he extended one finger to point at the giant and spoke the command word, a cool, grating syllable, and allowed the spell to be unleashed. Weaken. If his spell was successful, the monster with the might of a dragon would find its strength diminished to that of a man, such that it may not even be able to lift its heavy hands to punch any longer. For as long as Graham stayed at a distance, Sebastian felt he had the upper hand. |
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| Graham Sideas | Fri Aug 5, 2011 3:51 pm Post #12 |
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The undead seemed to strengthen in it's resolve at the sound of it's master being called lesser then a mortal. Any rage the soul of the cultist felt at it's master for the under-handed nature of his death, the rage he felt at the thought of his master being lesser then a mortal? That would not be heard of. He was nothing less then a god in living form, and the cultist would not have this insult against his god. he beast pressed forward with increased vigor, pounding it's fists into the dirt with a force to push the dirt around it. That was, until the spell hit it. It's fist rose, and as the spell pressed into it's form it's first fell with greater force, it's bones shattering as they slammed into the dirt. The titan of bone collapsed to one side, barely able to hold itself up with the other arm as the strength left it's skeletal body. It had no muscles to weaken, but the magical force that kept it afloat strained it's power. It's face tried to lift itself into a scream, the flames in it's eyes making it seem like it was sad, and in pain. Graham visibly shivered at the feeling of his beast dying, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He hadn't felt that sort of shudder from one of his beast's dying, the soul within screaming in agony. He could hear it, distantly. He could remember his name, or maybe the spirit was putting it into his head itself... Allen. Allen was writhing in pain, because his very soul had been weakened and shattered. He could feel it in himself, the connection to his pet sending the pain coursing through his body in an exhilirating show of pain. He couldn't help but smile, pity creeping it's way into his cold heart as Lapochka-no... the beast was gone now, it was Allen now- Allen clawed at the ground, it's fingers raising as it's 'tail' thrashed wildly. It wanted to fight, to tear the throat from this blasphemous dog, but he couldn't. For a moment, the lad could hear a psychic scream in his head as the beast yelled, a mixture of pain and rage as the soul within paled and broke from the abomination. For a moment, he could see the surface of the vault glow gently, Allen returning to his new eternal home. "Rest well, Allen. I will not call on you again..." He had not learned how to free souls from the vault, a frown crossing over his face. It was the first time he had felt empathy since the start of his undeath. The boy had a quality that the undead could respect, a loyalty that transcended his wrath, went past retribution to defend the man-nay the god that he had lived for. He rotated it in his fingers before moving forward, materialized fully as he passed through the mist. His wraith sight sprang to life as he followed the traces of his Lapochka slamming her tail into the dirt. It's claw still absently clawed at the dirt, attempting to pull itself up. Without the soul inside, it was barely able to animate itself. He didn't use the same object that he used to bring his beast, Boris, to life, Lapochka's catalyst now gone from her form. He stepped forward, his clothing dark and torn in places. The rags he wore were as old as he was, clothing he was given when he came of age in Belerun. The frill that was just beneath his collar irritated him at times, but the clothing gave him a certain comfort. As he neared the scene, he reached down to take his cloak from Lapochka's body, revealing the morphed and twisted bones forming into solid plates instead of a rib cage, many of the bones overlapping two or three more instead of just a single bone. "Rest in peace, Lapochka... You seem to wish to face me in person, so you have your wish, intruder." He bit his tongue, blood rolling down his chin as his voice rolled with arcane and foreign words. Even he had lost the true meaning of them, but with each word he felt the air around his mouth lose it's moisture, his lips cracking. Black light came from his mouth before a ball of negative energy shot from his mouth, twisting through the air like a fireball as it flew for it's target. "Allow me to show you your folly." He spat blood, it's color quickly turning black as it sat in the dirt at Graham's feet. |
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| Sebastian | Fri Aug 5, 2011 11:31 pm Post #13 |
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Sebastian's spell struck home, and he watched as the creature's mad flailing slowed, the gigantic abomination struggling to move its heavy limbs. The energy fueling its locomotion had been stifled, and the skeletal monstrosity no longer fought the intruder, but rather fought its own failing body. The creature's body slipped further into the dirt, trying to keep itself up. Its eyes had become dim; it looked almost human like this, its enormous blue orbs visibly anguished. The monster writhed, its bones making cracking noises as they began to fall apart without the strength required to hold them. The monster's massive tail thrashed in agony behind it. Sebastian no longer sensed fury, or the sensation to annihilate in the monster's soul. Rather, it seemed to simply desire peace. It wanted to be whole or to be destroyed, but it didn't want the pathetic half-existance it was forced to endure. Finally, the monster's eyes began to dim as its strength rapidly left it. Whatever intelligence had possessed it before was now gone, and the beast had simply become a set of animated bones. Its fingers clawed and the dirt, its tail twitched and slammed against the soil. Sebastian heard the bones beginning to fall out of place, joints groaning and solid bone splintering. Sentience had left Lapochka. There was nothing left to keep her up. Finally, the phantom appeared, and Sebastian could tell it was the phantom. Although it took on a seemingly physical form, it smelled of power and of negative energy. It was far stronger than the zombies, than Seele, even stronger than Lapochka. The figure before him, who crouched low to retrieve the tattered dark cloak from the fallen monstrosity's body. Beneath the cloak was a mess of twisted, fused bones, unnatural and reinforced. These were the powerful servants at the command of a necrolord. "Rest in peace, Lapochka... You seem to wish to face me in person, so you have your wish, intruder," Graham said, his voice a warning tone. It seemed airy and detatched, as if not truly uttered by a solid mouth, but spoken by the mist itself. The phantom wore clothing from an era long-passed, and it denoted nobility. In life, Graham had no doubt been a respectable man. While it was torn and ratty with age, the suit was expensive in taste. Sebastian had little time to admire the ghost's taste in clothing, for it became immediately hostile. Its eyes glowed brightly as darkness began to glow within its mouth. It was hard to describe, but Sebastian had seen it once before, pure black light, harnessed as energy. It had been wielded by Seele, and he recognized it as negative energy, weaponized black magic. He had tasted a black bolt before; it was easy for him to identify the spell. "Allow me to show you your folly," it stated simply, releasing the darkness. As the ball of negative energy flew towards Sebastian, he threw himself to the side, putting out one of his blades, inorganic material, to absorb the blast. The attack struck his sword directly, but had no effect. Negative energy ignored inorganic matieral, and it simply passed straight through it, striking the ground behind him. The grass immediately wilted, becoming gray and whithered, and the land where the attack had struck appeared to have been blighted with acid. Nothing would grow there for time to come. Sebastian had a counter-spell in store, and he cast it off quickly, its command word being relatively simple. As Graham spat black blood onto the ground, he unleashed his own magic, and immediately the temperature dropped around him. The mist that always hung in the air suddenly became thicker, colder, and Sebastian took a deep breath, inhaling his element. The mist would cling to skin, weapons, and armor, and prove quite disabling. The birthmark at the nape of Sebastian's neck glowed a bright-blue, and the frostborne sorcerer was made immune to the effects of the spell. OOC
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| Graham Sideas | Sat Aug 6, 2011 6:12 pm Post #14 |
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The Phantom grinned wide enough to reveal sharpened and serrated teeth as the warrior fought on against him, even dodging the blast of negative energy that he sent towards him. He was growing rather fond of the lad, the zeal with which he fought being a respectable quality. One only fought with such grandiose displays of power when one had a goal that meant more to them then the world itself. Whatever it was, Graham found himself curious. He ran his tongue along his teeth as his breath left his mouth as a fog, the mists around him chilling visibly, "What is it that drives you so hard, Child? You don't seem the righteous type. What whispers have guided you into the mist?" He licked his lips and smiled, his hand raising as his mouth twisted and curled through more arcane words. Necrotic energy formed along his finger-tips as he prepared the missile to launch towards his foe. His eyes traced the black light of the man's aura, his curiosity growing as he watched him fight on. He could almost feel that there was something living in the man, a smile crossing over his face at the realization that it was the same powers he had mastered when he took up the path he now walked. He flattened his palm and the missile fired, necrotic energy pulsing through it as it flew for it's target. As it fired, he flicked his wrist and began to whisper another incantation towards the skull of Lapochka, the telekinetic force that came from his mind twisting it off of the beast's shoulders and raising it in the air. He felt the cold pressing in on him, even in his spectral form. The movement of the skull was rather slow, regardless of it's lack of much weight. He smiled even wider as he threw his arm out wide, tossing the skull as quickly as he could behind the missile. Using the two attacks as cover, the Phantom moved with as much speed as he could to the other side of the man. He hadn't felt this alive since his battle with the ranger, either of the fights with him now that he thought of it. He rarely personally entered the battle, preferring to allow his undead to do the dirty work. Graham's eyes visibly widened as he became more frenzied and into the battle around him. He materialized thirty-five paces from the Genasi, feeling the chill press in on his dead flesh. For a moment, he closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling. Very few things in the world truly effected him, the feeling of reality being much like looking at it through glass. The spectral light in his eyes burned brighter as he began to go through the words of his next spell, watching the Genasi the entire time. He made sure that each word was loud enough so that the man could hear, even from behind him. Each word was difficult to get out, his body trying to numb and chill itself more then death had already done for him. The last words made the reaper's vault and his own tattoo glow from beneath his clothing. Deep red lights came from beneath as his throat seemed to vibrate with the spell. He could feel his very soul quivering with the prospect of testing this spell on something that he was not a master to, something that was not truly willing. As the man reacted to hearing his enemy behind him, he could see the eyes of the warrior he was fighting. He lipped the final words of the spell and felt his soul wretch forward in response to the spell, reaching towards the soul of his enemy in an attempt to meld the two together. "Join me, my new little friend, and become one..." The laughter that came from the Phantom would have chilled his own blood if it didn't come from him, his blood red eyes sparkling through the mists like beacons. This... would be an interesting test. So very interesting. |
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| Sebastian | Sat Aug 6, 2011 9:20 pm Post #15 |
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Sebastian was determined to defeat the phantom. It wasn't that he wanted to vanquish its spirit, or dominate it. He didn't even want to prove that he was better than it. He needed to prove that he was worth Graham's time. The phantom possessed everything that Sebastian aspired to possess. Since his childhood, the genasi had abused his mother and reviled his father, frustrated with his curse of mortality. But he had not been a sheep. He had been a leader, and he had worked his whole life towards this. He would not die at the hands of his prize. "What is it that drives you so hard, child? You don't seem the righteous type. What whispers have guided you into the mist?" the devilish spirit hissed, smiling his cruel, razor-sharp grin. The fiend prepared another spell, dark energy glowing in the phantom's hand. The monster threw his spell, and this one Sebastian could not so capably avoid. The burst of dark magic struck him in the stomach, and he reeled backwards, clutching his gut. It was a sensation not unlike the one he had experienced when his arm had failed him in his match with Seele. This was followed by a sailing boulder, Lapochka's skeletal head. This one, Sebastian had to avoid, dodging out of the way, careful to stay away from any place it might rebound to. The ground shuddered as the monster's skull landed, rolling several yards away from their misty arena. Despite the burning in his bowels, Sebastian felt alive, his senses heightened by the thrill of the battle, and the comfortable icy nip in the air. His father's heritege strengthened him. Then the phantomed disappeared, and Sebastian was momentarily worried that the ghost had fled him, preparing to send more of his zombies after him. He heard the ghost calling out an incantation from behind him, and he turned around quickly, straining to see through the mist."I am driven by the same ambition that once drove you," Sebastian called out, "...Graham Sideas," he mouthed. "That is who you are, isn't it? The Shadow Society told me about you, said that I might be able to find you if I knew where to look. I desire the power you have, Graham Sideas." Then something inside him tore. It felt as if his body was being stretched apart, but it wasn't. It was his soul. Sebastian had fallen victim to a powerful curse, and he should have recognized it by the forbidden incantation. His soul was being fused with Graham's, and for a brief moment, he felt everything Graham felt, amusement, curiosity, but then it was gone. Graham's eyes were glowing crimson, two tiny rubies, the only things visible through the mist. It was done. Sebastian and Graham had become one. |
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4:27 PM May 22
