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| To Those Who Would Seek Death; Graham | |
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| Topic Started: Mon Jul 25, 2011 8:46 am (417 Views) | |
| Graham Sideas | Sun Aug 7, 2011 1:15 am Post #16 |
 
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Graham closed his eyes and felt the exhilaration as the two souls became one. For a moment, his heart began to pump again. He could feel the blood moving through his cold hands, his chest heaving up and down as it tried to squelch the feeling. It was a beautiful thing, this sensation, and is he felt it more he could hear the cries and screams from the reaper's vault as the souls within felt the change in their holder. Their screams and cries drowned out the noise for a moment until he finally calmed himself. "This feeling.. so beautiful..." His breath faltered before it finally stopped, his expression becoming cold as he heard the boy speak his true name. To his kin, names were important, things that one tried to keep close to the vest. He smiled, it had been too long. That wasn't his true name, though it may as well have been for the amount of time it had been since he went by Wilhelm. He let out a breath, continuing to calm himself as he thought about what the lad said. He smiled lightly, "You have indeed found who you seek, Lad, though I fear what you truly seek is far more then you know. To ascend this life, and join the ranks of the undead, is it not? It is a common goal amongst the aspiring and the undesirables of necromancers." He turned his head, his eyes visibly turning purple as the spectral light of his wraith sight put itself on again. He could feel his calmer personality taking hold, and he could feel his sight slowly withering away. How he hated being reminded of those years of his life, that century of wandering around the world as a man without one of his most important tools. He still recall the vengeance he enacted onto that fool who did it, though he could only hear the screams.. ah, the screams. He closed his eyes for a moment as he thought of it, opening them slowly as he remembered the man that was not forty paces from him. He waved a hand, figures beginning to appear in the mist. Many of his personal guard had begun to gather around the pair, ready to do whatever their master ordered when he called on them. He kept them held back, however, a certain curiosity sparking in his gaze. He slowly moved towards the lad, stopping when he reached twenty paces away, holding out his hand as neutrally as he truly could, "There are many things to know, if you are truly worthy to learn. You have proved yourself strong, but strength is not all it takes to draw life back to the dead. At least, not upon any level that a simple toddler could do. The true art behind it is.. rather beautiful." He smiled. He was looking for an opportunity like this for some time. He needed to have a back-up plan, something that he knew would succeed were he to fall to the many enemies he was sure to grow in the future. If this boy was willing to learn all he could teach, he could implant in him many things that needed to be given to the world. If he fell, he knew that his deepest secrets would be kept and used either for, or against the world. And as far as he was concerned, if he fell, against was something he wouldn't complain about. "I warn you, however. I am merely offering you a chance. You will either succeed, and gain the secrets I know.. or you will die, and become one of the many corpses on my tables. Either choice is fine for me, and I have never taken a student. Know that you are entering into waters no man has waded in." There was a dead seriousness in his gaze. Since the start of this, he felt something different about this man. There was a mild feeling of happiness in him, seeing so much of himself in the lad. He searched for something stronger, something with knowledge that he wanted, and came to prove himself worthy of it. He cocked his head back, a smile forming on his rotting face once again. There were so many things to do, oh so many things... |
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| Sebastian | Sun Aug 7, 2011 8:42 am Post #17 |
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This feeling was incredible. His soul swirled inside him. It was unusual, being able to actually feel the soul. It wasn't something many people had experienced, but with the influence of Graham's corrupting, necrotic soul within his own, it was clear to Sebastian precisely what his soul felt like. He felt such incredible power, being fused with the phantom, his own living soul bound to Graham's negative soul, a pillar of black energy within his body. Sebastian had not only changed on the inside, however. There was an immediate outward change on his body. The eyes of the genasi, which were naturally a faintly glowing blue, had begun to shine like icy beacons. Now, not only did the magic of his elemental father flow through him, but the influence of Graham's malevolent soul. The second change was not immediately visible, not to Graham nor to Sebastian, but the snowflake-shaped birthmark on the nape of his neck changed shape too. It had been corrupted, morphing to take on the shape of Graham's brand, the spiny harvest moon symbol permanently etched into Sebastian's skin. The mark would still offer the same innate abilities it had granted him before, but its shape was forever transformed. Sebastian felt himself closer to the immortality he desired than ever before. He now felt precisely what Graham had to offer him, but he still wanted more. He indeed wanted to join the ranks of the undead, but he would not be a servant. An apprentice, perhaps, but never a tool. Sebastian would be master. He felt Graham's minions pressing in, but Sebastian no longer feared them. That wasn't to say that he was reckless, necessarily. There was a myriad of undead monstrosities around him, but they would no longer cause the genasi to shudder or to flinch. They were beauteous creatures; he understood now. This was the lesson Graham's rotted soul had taught him. Mortals could only be as perfect as evolution deemed reasonable. However, the undead could be reshaped, mouled to beautiful perfection, and not even the Gods would protest. "I understand, master," the necromancer whispered, his birthmark glowing faintly beneath his cloak. "My mind patiently awaits the secrets you hold. Illuminate me." |
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| Graham Sideas | Sun Aug 7, 2011 10:08 pm Post #18 |
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The necromancer smiled at the word master, something he often only heard from the sheep. He wasn't fond of those that easily offered their services, but he had a feeling that this man wasn't the type to follow forever, something that actually made his services more pleasing to have. He was either not worth his arrogance, and would have died already, or he understands that to lead, one must first follow. Even Graham had offered his service, embracing the service of another until he could serve himself. He waved a hand, "Feel free to follow then, Child. I have a place nearby that should be rather... illuminating." He began to press on, finally wrapping his cloak around himself once again. The undead formed a line behind the pair as they moved, their hands set as if they were praying and their heads dipped low. They said nothing, but there was an uncomfortable feeling as their thoughts moved from one undead to another, a single word repeating just low enough that it couldn't really be heard. They had a fondness for speaking the name that Graham told his undead to refer to him by. Through the mists they went, the trees seeming to hang low around them, light barely able to pass through the mists. It wouldn't take long for them to reach the farm that the necromancer had taken as his home. There were two silos that would have been full were their owners not killed months before, as well as a barn and a farm house. All of the buildings seemed to be colored differently at one point, but they were a deep red in color now. The barn had the symbol that Sebastian now had in his flesh upon it's doors, marking it as the lab where the necromancer did his work. "We're almost there... I believe you're more accustomed to the work then the knowledge first, hm?" He turned and raised his brow. When the man seemed to show a complete interest in the work of toying with flesh, he would release their bound souls, but for now he would simply wait for a response. As they neared the barn, two of his undead moved forward to open the doors as quickly as they could, pulling them outward so they didn't have a chance to disturb anything inside. The smell of rot and burning flesh spilled from inside into the air, awful enough to choke a living man who was unawares of what he was walking into. On the inside there were a dozen different tables with corpses upon them, some made of wood others of metal. There were tables and desks litering the room, medical supplies as well as books opened at random, bottles full of black ichor spread across the lot of them. In the back of the room a massive table sat, a titan of flesh that was almost fifteen feet tall spread across it, it's chest open and it's arms bare. What it was meant to be was unclear, but it's flesh was clearly made from hundreds of living creatures. "Welcome to my workshop." Graham stepped in, taking a deep breath of the air as he felt the feeling of home washing over him. For some reason he could truly only get lost in his work, in the action of a needle stitching flesh together. With a smile, he pressed forward to the nearest table, running a hand along a body that laid upon it. It was a man, for the most part, missing almost half of it's body. It's chest had the symbol burned upon it, and it's eyes were stitched shut. It's features were half burned, and there were a few men in black cloaks moving around the table in an attempt to heat a taper hot enough to burn the rest. And as one, the cultists in the barn stopped their work and looked to their master, bowing and bending to their knees. His presence demanded respect to them, something that many had learned could prove fatal if ignored. |
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| Sebastian | Mon Aug 8, 2011 9:29 am Post #19 |
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Sebastian held his head high as he followed his new master, the only one who was not bowing. Graham's cult following was incredible. Even his living servants, those who were not bound to his will by magic, followed the phantom unquestioningly, even willing to die for him. What did Graham offer these ascendants? Was it the promise of eternal life for all of them? Was it power? Perfection? As they moved through the mists, Sebastian wondered where Graham was taking them. Where would a phantom live? Perhaps it was a horrifying mass-burial grounds, where tombs were desecrated daily to swell the necromancer's army. Or perhaps it was an unholy ground, scortched by demonic magic and made unfit for anything to live besides the undead. Maybe he lived within a magical bubble, invisible to the outside world. What he found was much different from what he expected. Graham's home was an old farm, certainly less extravagant than the swordsman would have guessed, but there was still something impressive about the old structure. All of the buildings seemed to be painted a dark crimson, and the paint seemed recent enough. "We're almost there... I believe you're more accustomed to the work then the knowledge first, hm?" Graham said, turning briefly to face. "I have familiarized myself with the knowledge, and to some degree, the process, but I want to know how you make such elegant lifeforms. The invisible creature, the giant of bones, the myriad of abhorrent zombies. How does one soul create such arcana?" Sebastian responded, his arms waving to the sides, gesturing at each of Graham's servants surrounding them. "How do you make even mortal men follow you unquestioningly? Your... Lapochka was mortal once. I could sense it," he continued, struggling to remember the name of the bone golem, saying it very slowly. When finally, they reached the barn, two zombies opened the door for them, and Sebastian nodded at them, accustomed to politeness. He found himself wondering if the zombies even remarked gestured of etiquette, sincerely doubting it. The inside of the barn was in every way not a barn. The smell within was not the smell of hay and manure, but the smell of rot, and embalming fluid, and charred flesh. Sebastian felt fire all around him, and the skin over his spine began to tingle uncomfortably. The smell was awful, but it did not bother him with his distractions. The barn was like some sort of horrible scientific laboratory combined with a concentration camp. There were jars and vials of strange liquors, and pieces of once-living flesh laying around bloodied operating tables, where atop lay zombies having their flesh seared, and Sebastian was glad that this was not his fate. He had been burned badly enough. His chest still showed scars to prove it. On one large table, an undead giant was layed out, its skin clearly made of the combined pelts of scores of different creatures. The abomination stood nearly fifteen feet, and it was torn open. Human cultists bustled about the barn, working on the once-living pieces of art that decorated the laboratory. As soon as Graham entered the barn, every servant lowered himself to one knee. Even Sebastian caught himself bowing his head, but did not kneel before the phantom. Sebastian had only raised five of his own zombies in the course of his lifetime, and nothing so elegant or horrifying as what Graham was crafting. He had never quite understood the possibilities nor the limitations of necromancy. Perhaps that was his primary reason for seaking the phantom. |
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| Graham Sideas | Tue Aug 9, 2011 2:53 am Post #20 |
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Most of the barn moved back to it's work, the cultists nearest Graham remaining still, standing against walls and far out of his way in an attempt to not provoke their master. In each of them was a mixture of fear and adulation that was almost poetic as they looked towards the creature they revered as a god. To each of them was a tale of their reasoning for being there that Graham truly couldn't care enough to remember to truly answer how he got each and every one of them to follow him, so a simple answer would truly have to suffice, "They worship because they wish to. When I showed up in these hills the peasantry started to fear the mist, and then some of the more pious began to revere it. They came to me in worship because it was that, or face death as the sheep that remain in the hills." He looked to the nearest human that stood still, noticing a mild shake in the lad. Many of them had begun to show fear lately, something that he wasn't very fond of. He was beginning to offer more of them the gift of undeath, but the more he offered the more they eventually found that their gift they wanted so badly was exactly as their master had told them initially; A curse that no man would look for without desperation in his heart. He moved across the room to the giant corpse that sat upon the massive metallic table, his precious rammstein open and in pieces for any who entered to see. He ran his fingers over the arm of the creature, ignoring the black ichor that seeped over his fingers as he did it. Embalming fluid was something that he had gotten quite used to, as it were. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together before looking back at the perspective, "So truly, it is merely the fact that mortals, humans especially, will search for something stronger then them to attach to. So far as creating creatures as I have... it is a mixture of methods I have developed over almost three centuries of life, as well as methods I have... learned... from someone else's work. You could say she's more of a savant then anything..." Which wasn't all that true, mostly the part of him spending the bulk of his life perfecting his art. He actually didn't pick up necromancy until the last century or so that he had lived, not gaining a true appreciation to the art until two or three years before. In a way he was a budding baby so far as his time with the arts went, but he would keep that fact to himself. He looked over the genasi for a moment, nodding to himself before muttering the same incantation he spoke out on their chosen field, this time in reverse. Slowly, their souls parted, breaking apart from one another. He would be a fool to strike at the Phantom here, before the lad could truly catch up to Graham he would be consumed in a river of cultists and undead that the Phantom would actually enjoy watching someone attempt to fight through. "So.... show your abilities so I may see how capable you are. If you are searching for this power I'm assuming you at least have some of it beneath your belt?" He rose his brow, stepping back and motioning for some of the cultists to wheel one of the perfectly put together bodies into the center of the room. The body was of a young woman, her body stitched together and many places looking like they were grafted on from another body entirely. She was a cultist that was in the Phantom's service, one who had served loyally enough that he was willing to offer her perfect undeath. Or at least, the best that this lad could offer, which was all that Graham truly could give the girl. With a smile, he stepped aside, awaiting the show. Edited by Graham Sideas, Tue Aug 9, 2011 2:54 am.
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| Sebastian | Tue Aug 9, 2011 9:30 am Post #21 |
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"They worship because they wish to. When I showed up in these hills the peasantry started to fear the mist, and then some of the more pious began to revere it. They came to me in worship because it was that, or face death as the sheep that remain in the hills." Fear was never something Sebastian had led with before. He had always had to make promises to hold his followers attention, promises of power, of ascention, of survival. He had always simply had a knack for making others believe in his words. But when he had true power, then he would bend his followers by force of will. Those who did not wish to serve him would be forced to. This was the first beauty of necromancy. "So truly, it is merely the fact that mortals, humans especially, will search for something stronger than them to attach to. So far as creating creatures as I have... it is a mixture of methods I have developed over almost three centuries of life, as well as methods I have... learned... from someone else's work. You could say she's more of a savant then anything..." As the phantom examined the ichor on his fingers, he spoke. Sebastian wondered what he meant by this. What woman had the ability to mould flesh with more elegance than Graham, he wondered. His eyes trailed over the machine on Graham's table, the abomination Rammstein, and he tried to note the gentle intricacies of the monster. The human body could be astonishingly moulded like putty be those not too squeemish to try. This was the second beauty of necromancy. As Sebastian felt his soul come unbound from the phantom, he emitted a sigh. It was not a sigh of relief, nor of pain. It was simply the only way his body knew to react to the feeling. He had been given a taste of what was to come. He longed for more. "So.... show your abilities so I may see how capable you are. If you are searching for this power, I'm assuming you at least have some of it beneath your belt?" Graham's final statement brought blood to the genasi's cheeks. He had done very little necromancy in the past, and nothing that would impress the phantom, but today, all Graham asked was for him to animate the body. He had already began to concentrate on the spell as the cultists wheeled in the body, the body of what was once a woman. Though perhaps she had in the past been a woman, she was now a construct of sewn flesh, waiting to be brought back to life. As the body came nearer him, he began to unleash the necrotic energy his body was harboring, and he felt tendrils of negative energy flow from his body, through the ground, like roots, and into the ex-woman. For a moment, he felt a connection between himself and the woman, before her eyelids flicked open, her empty eyes glowing frosty-blue in the din of the laboratory. She began to fight against her constraints that kept her bound, and while cultists stood uneasily around her, prepared to stop her should the genasi be unable to control her, Sebastian forced his will into her, and with a shudder, he felt her snap under his pressure, falling limpty into his service. "What would you like me to do with her?" Sebastian questioned, his eyes glowing fiercely as he channeled the dark arcana. |
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| Graham Sideas | Wed Aug 10, 2011 10:09 am Post #22 |
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It was rather difficult for the necromancer to hide the look of satisfaction that grew across his face. The woman's mind was in no way in tact as he would have hoped for her, but it was at least a moving creature now. Far better then it was moments ago. Truly he had no illusions that the woman would survive, and his own personal process of necromancy would have destroyed everything of the woman that once was. He could live with this outcome, quite easily at that. "You'll find in time that that question is pointless." He tapped his finger, debating whether he should truly take this lad beneath his wing. He was quite sure that the lad could surpass his own growth so far as the power behind the art went, though his artistry would require years to truly master. Would it be worth it? He ran his tongue over his lips, somewhat wishing he still had a living body. It was the odd little things one missed about it, really, even the things one hated in life. Anxiety was one of those things that he felt himself missing, it would be very useful to know when he should actually feel it instead of having to fake it. He looked to the new thrall and debated showing his own powers, taking control of her from the lad. For now he would leave that until a later date, the master mage finding it to be in bad taste. Especially when one was actually growing to enjoy the lad. He waved his hand to motion for him to follow after him. He stopped at the door, lifting his index finger for a moment as a realization finally dawned upon the undead, feeling increasingly rude as it fully eclipsed into his mind, "What is your name, while I'm thinking on it? I find myself referring to you by the boy in my head, and I imagine that is not a term you would enjoy forced upon you." Especially considering that any name the Phantom would refer to him by would be one his undead and cultists would mirror without the Genasi being able to do anything about it, but Graham would keep that to himself. That would likely be something he would figure out on his own soon enough anyway. He waited a single moment for a response, merely nodding to anything the lad said until they reached the farm house across from the barn, the doors already open for them with a candle lit inside. And what they found inside could only be described as a library disguising itself as a home.Or perhaps a home cleverly disguising it's walls with books. Graham walked past the furniture he had set into the room, tables and chairs that were well cushioned with a table set in the middle of them, and moved towards the far left book shelf. As the books went on, their bindings went from black leather to different leathers that eventually became grisly, and were obviously made from less-then-accepted materials. "I suppose if I am to teach you, it would be better to teach you my art of crafting the bodies, since you have the basics of raising the bodies to life. Any skills beyond that are things I would much rather you learn on your own..." He set the first book down on the table, obviously scanning for a specific book. The page he had it open to had a rather detailed drawing of an autopsy he had done on a woman, the writing showing his rather detailed interest in the differences from male to female anatomy. The date on the page was two hundred and thirty years ago, much of the terminology on the page being slightly different then the normal dialects that most Imythessians used. He seemed painfully oblivious to all of it as he put another book down on the table, moving across the room to the far right, looking through the most recent books for some small detail that he could start his teachings off on, something that even he could not truly remember. |
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| Sebastian | Thu Aug 11, 2011 9:29 am Post #23 |
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"Sebastian," the genasi answered simply, and the phantom nodded in response. The swordsman hadn't even noticed that he hadn't yet given Graham his name; after having his soul bonded with the Necro Lord, he felt as though he had known him far longer than the past fifteen minutes or so they'd spent together. Fifteen minutes and already Sebastian was made his apprentice. Already, he could taste immortality dancing before his nostrils. He wanted to take a bite, savor the feeling of eternity, but the time was not yet right. The genasi was awed by the extensive library of forbidden tomes the phantom kept. Some of them were self-written, and he imagined some of them were probably a part of Graham's library before he had died. It was only a matter of time, a matter of learning to carve and wield flesh as tools, before Sebastian, too, could be like Graham. |
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4:28 PM May 22
