| Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit. Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own. In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins. There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Create a character now! If you're already a member, you can log into your account below: |
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| The Phoenix Effect; [GRP]/[P] Graham | |
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| Topic Started: Thu Jul 28, 2011 3:20 pm (522 Views) | |
| Lyavel | Thu Jul 28, 2011 3:20 pm Post #1 |
 
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“Interesting,” the Elf muttered aloud; delicately running a finger along the side of a large wooden beam; his eyes belaying a childish sense of excitement as he surveyed the tools which would be needed for him to complete the grandiose architectural structure he had found himself enlisted as a part of aiding within the building of. Bringing the curious finger away from the wood, he brought it closer to his face for a few moments, inspecting anything which may have become astray from the wood and latched onto his finger; unfortunately, it was rather bare. With an obligatory brushing of the tip with the thumb, he turned himself around and folded his arms across his chest; taking it upon himself to inspect the larger view of the cityscape behind him; which he had decided to neglect before in order to view his 'workplace' in its stead. What lay out ahead of the Elf was something of both a depressing and enlightening settlement; or at least what was becoming into the beginnings of one. The scars of the destruction were still clear to see, but the remnants were also matched with numerous build sites; sowing the seeds of hope into the city, which was clearly seeing a driven force in order to return it to its former glory. Had the Elf even offered the slightest sense of hope to anyone outside of himself, he might have found himself caring about the dedication being put into the movement. However, as it was, Lyavel, or Krasus 'the Silver' as he was currently self-monikered, cared for little outside of his own interests; albeit, Taras happened to serve as one of them for that time; well, that specific worksite at the least. From the ashes, it shall be born anew. Quaint. You've got to hand it to them; their unfaltering commitment is somewhat uplifting. It's a shame you can't share in their vigour. A small, yet crisp voice popped up within the mind of the Elf; just as he caught the zipping of a blurred golden outline in his peripherals. The small dragon often had a lot to say when matters concerned that of his 'Master'; a trait which Lyavel considered both a pro and a con toward the small golden creature. Whilst at times it was good to have a discussion with the creature; there were times, such as that moment, where Lyavel didn't really want to hear the creature's particular musings of the situation at hand. Not only did it distract the man's chain of thoughts; but it was just unnecessary to have a small voice, which only he was able to hear, pop up inside of his head spouting its personal views of whatever. Perhaps of it spoke audibly it would be different. The Elf gave the creature a pretty simple rebuttal; in the fact that he didn't. In turn, he, aptly, turned himself around once again; facing, for a further time, the site which was soon to become a construct of... well, he didn't quite know that yet. Whatever it was, it was grandiose, big and amazing. Well, it better be. Lyavel wasn't going to slave himself in aiding the creation of something which was unfitting of his tremendous ego. Only now was doubt setting in for the Elf; he had been naively under the impression that he would be creating something fabulous; but, rather stupidly, he had failed in finding out exactly what it was that they were building. Then again, he had given his word that he would aid in it; andd, like a true dashing rogue, his word meant... absolutely nothing. |
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| Graham Sideas | Thu Jul 28, 2011 5:29 pm Post #2 |
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There was a mixture of the dead and the living hefting construction equipment up and down different areas of the construction site, working together to give life to the inanimate creation their master wished to use to place his mark on this dead and rising town. It was rather inspiring-even to the heartless undead that was guiding these cultists and undead to the appointed task. It was often that humanity would show itself with respectable resolve to their idiotic and barbaric race. Phillip moved up and down the side of one of the walls being built for the massive building, his spectral form dancing back and forth-visible to all in the immediate area at his master's whim. He could not assist, so he would merely watch, trying to find some sort of amusement in all of this event-less action. Graham grinned slightly at this, the ghost usually one of the more detrimental parts of his plan. This would be the first time that Phillip was set comfortably out of the work for the day. He stepped forward, his spectral form materializing as a hammer fell, catching it by the head in his hand. He didn't notice much pain in his hand as he tossed the tool to the nearest cultist, who nearly fell over catching it unexpectedly. They were useless on their best of days, and were at best causing more damage then help in their work here. They at least knew where to get the best supplies for this place, the stones they brought particularly impressive for the floors and walls. "It's almost comedic, all of these insects rushing about to build something that will merely be destroyed down the road. Such is the nature of humanity, I suppose." Phillip stopped his dance and looked up at his master, confused at the rather dour demeanor his master had put on in the latest days. He had begun to become less violent, and more depressing towards many of the living folk. He even allowed one of them to walk from his realm alive, a first since the phantom had pulled himself from the abyss and back into this world-through sheer rage. "Is it so odd, to want a place of worship? You're the one who recommended the Cathedral in the first place. And as I recall master, you had an ulterior motive as well?" The Phantom smiled at the ghost child, the tone of sarcasm he was using was much different then his usual emotionless voice. He was purposely taunting his master, well aware that he was too fond of him to toss him away like any of his other undead. He merely shook his head, well aware that Phillip was aware of his plan for this place. The humans that would move here wouldn't be aware of it, but it would hide secret caverns for his cults to hide, worshiping and doing his dark work while he labored within the dungeons of the Shadow Society. And upon them fell the association with the man who had decided to join him for this project. He wasn't quite sure who the elf was, nor did he truly feel that he cared-but he was useful here, or hopefully he would prove to be. The mere association with the Shadow Society made Graham not wish to put harm upon the lad, at least for fear of drawing the rage of the zombie who gave him a lab to work in. So long as he had a place to work on his greatest piece of art, he would leave those who worked for the girl be. He strode across the work site, dematerializing his body to pass through the work without much interruption, beyond those that jumped at the sight of a ghost passing through them, moving to stand next to the elf. He turned to stand facing the building as well, his body materializing once again, "What do you think of it thus far, then? It's going quite well, for the builders being idiots on their best days..." Which he couldn't lie and say that he didn't feel the same way for the bulk of the population. He sighed, watching as one of the undead fell from the higher beams of the construction zone, a large crack resounding as it hit the ground-likely breaking a bulk of it's ribs. It stood up, revealing it to be a lifeless one, a siren at that. It's eyes, ears, and nose were sewn shut tightly, and the only way it could navigate was by tastes in the air, and it's master's will. Somehow he regretted bringing them along, instead of mindless ones specifically ordered to build such things. it would make things much simpler. Then again so would the thing building itself. |
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| Lyavel | Mon Aug 1, 2011 7:05 pm Post #3 |
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Whilst Lyavel, or as he had to keep reminding himself Krasus, had little to no intention of actually doing anything more than watch others building, he was definitely displaying a sense of excitement about his person. It really wasn't much of a difficult trait to point out; even from a range, the man's body language was enough to show that he was clearly at ease around whatever and whoever, and his passive smirk of content was clear upon his features to anyone who may have got into closer range. Albeit, it wasn't a wholly natural actions; and whilst it appeared subtle, the man was exaggerating his physicalities in order to 'appeal' more to anyone in range. It was rare that the man tended to show exactly what his thoughts and emotions were; and even when he did, they were cloaked with a sense of exaggeration to hide the true sense within. Lyavel's attention was forcefully taken from the building with the emergence of his, apparent 'associate', who also was affiliated with the Society of Shadows. Or was it Shadow Society? Whatever it was, it mattered little; and Lyavel had little time to let his mind wander about such frivolities. Being the man of etiquette and grace (or so he had led himself to believe over the course of the years), Lyavel was quick to meet the newly appeared man's eyes, and greet him with a soft dip of the head; of course being accompanied by the most charming smile he could possibly think of putting on at that moment in time without making himself look too much like a complete dolt. A relatively simple question posed at the Elf; followed up with a flippant observation. The Elf was slightly unsure at the man's motives; was he merely trying to instigate light conversation between the two, perhaps in the hopes of gaining a mutual friendship of sorts which could aid in their co-operation? Possible. But, Lyavel was a much more cynical character to let such a simple notion stay as it was; floating freely in a void of naivety and ignorance. If anything, Lyavel was more inclined toward thinking that this gentlemen was doing something more akin to scouting the Elf; perhaps gauging him. Either of the two was fine for the Elf; but were it in actuality the latter of the two, it would match what Lyavel was planning to do with this 'associate'. Those of the Shadow Society were very... very... loose allies. “It's... Indeed rather grandiose,” the Elf replied quickly; turning away from the brief acknowledgement of his associate and back at the building. “I'm both impressed and excited at the scale and architectural prowess of the plans I have managed to procure relating to the building. Were I only able to claim toward the ownership of such a creation, I would die a happy man.” He folded his arms delicately across his chest; a small and sly twitch of a smirk tingling at the edge of his lips as he spoke. It also seemed that his returned vision toward the building was just in time to watch the spectacle; which was rather aptly timed with his associate's following statement. Breaking apart the folded arms which had been prevalent for a matter of moments at most, he raised his right hand; index finger casually trailing the path taken by the servant and it plummeted from atop to structure. “Three... Two... One...” He mouthed; timing the distance of its fall time. Once seeming content with the spectacle, he spoke further; though loose, it was clear to whom the question was posed to: “And what of your views?” |
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| Graham Sideas | Tue Aug 2, 2011 10:19 pm Post #4 |
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Graham didn't think he truly had the same appreciation for the creation of the building that the elf did, but he left it at that. Mortals needs at such grand structures was something of a mystery to the Phantom, and he didn't understand it when he was amongst their herd either. His own home in the first years of his life was simple enough, each room built efficiently to serve it's purpose without any gross displays of arrogance or waste. "I suppose one could take pride in it's building, were they fond of the style. Personally I have my own reasoning for this..." He left it at that, not wanting to show the cat-paw that he had built in many other cities throughout Imythess. The human need for faith was an easily exploited tool that he took no shame in using. In the case of this building, however, he would feed the human need for excess and faith all at once. His only true realm in the place would be the catacombs, where those of the faith would be interred. And used for his purposes, should his cult infiltrate well enough. He was using them to build the place, so it shouldn't be too hard for them to take command of the place, at least. "As for any of my other views? I don't truly think a single building would make much of a difference. Perhaps if the city opened up quarter by quarter and rebuilt itself slowly instead of this insane maze of reanimation of the buildings, it would be much more efficient. Then again I wouldn't be against burning the entire place down..." He waved his hand, the rest of the undead that hadn't broken themselves beyond use working twice as hard. He was aware of a graveyard in the nearby parts of the city that he could use to simply make work-horses from if these idiotic excuses for flesh made themselves more trouble then they were worth. He wasn't sure why he brought along undead built specifically for battle to build a behemoth of a building, but it was far too long down the road to worry about it. "Will you be partaking in the building, then?" He looked at the elf, curiously. He wanted to gauge how useful this man would make himself, and how secret he would need to keep the chambers he was building beneath the building. Already he had a pair of undead digging, the both of them he did build specifically for this mission. Every part of their body was horned to allow them to churn up dirt without so much as a shovel. They were similar to another beast he had built lately, though the designs for that one was much more sinister in it's purpose. One that Taras was very aware of, he was quite sure. He had already heard of a few sects of the slavers he was working with in the town. For now, however, that wasn't an important fact to reflect upon. Below the chapel, the pair of undead worked quickly at churning and digging through the dirt. The tunnels they were digging were intended to go far beneath the surface, winding stairs would be built and the catacombs beneath would house the bodies of the dead. They were not aware of this purpose, however, the two of them designed only to "consume". Every ounce of dirt they moved was shoveled into a mouth built into their chests, which would devour the dirt and turn it into fuel for the undead to push on. It was an interesting idea that their master had devised, though he couldn't truly see how unorthodox or successful it truly was. Phillip walked along the banisters above the foundation of the building, passing through many of the workers and almost causing a few of them to fall. He felt that he wasn't needed with his master for reconnaissance of a man that they had no intention of fighting. He hadn't ever truly thought of building as something important, his life as a living creature being rather short so far as humans were concerned. Now, however, he was curious to how this building would look. And the mild curiosity at whether or not his master's plan would truly work. |
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| Lyavel | Wed Aug 3, 2011 5:56 pm Post #5 |
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Lyavel's eyebrow instinctively quirked at the man's response to him; revealing some kind of 'personal reasoning' for creating this building. A part of a shady organisation (no pun intended), practically numberless undead minions, a gneral aura of distrust from Lyavel... The Elf was pretty sure that there was something behind the words of his associate; something pretty deep. Whilst Lyavel didn't possess a sense of paranoia around the man to a leve where he feared for his own life from a dagger in the back or something along them lines, but he just had a general distrust of this gentleman who he was 'working' alongside. He got the same general aura from the creepy little girl who he had met that night at the cemetery; perhaps it was just something about the other people he 'worked' with? Whatever it was, he couldn't really tell; but it was there; nagging at him from the shadows of his mind. Once returning to his, if not for a better word, normal state (eyebrow down and all) and resuming his eyeline onto the building, he listened to the man's further statements. “I find the devotion of the patrons somewhat... cute.” He responded calmly; following up with small, insincere sniff. “Why choose the orderly route when you can choose the quicker one? Then again, perhaps it's a monetary thing? I'm sure it'd cost more goldens for extensive periods of construction over a spread area, in comparison to a mass of construction over a short space of time would. But, I'm by no means an expert in that field.” He finished up with a shrug; his beliefs were pretty logical, but they were mere speculation. “As for burning it to the ground... I'm not sure it would hold quite as much of an... impact... as the last one. In fact, from what I've heard about what happened here, unless you can top an army of raging demons, it wouldn't be half as good... If you were planning to do it of show of course... I would do it for show...” You're rambling. Stop. It's embarrassing. In accordance with the voice erupting within his mind, which almost caused the Elf to simply jump out of the shock from the sudden incursion, the Elf did stop his speech; or so-called ramble. And from the way he had stopped, it had been apparent that he had intended to continue; even if it was going to be unrelated ideas and ways of which Lyavel would go about burning down the town in a multitude of different fanciful ways; one even including a pyre of 'wood golems'. However, the Dragon, which had now appeared beside Lyavel's head, after zipping off to look around the general area previously, remind hovering beside the man's left ear; its vision, whilst small and somewhat difficult to pinpoint locked onto Lyavel's associate. Aren't you going to introdu- Luckily for Lyavel, the Dragon's mental speech was cut off, or better put, deterred by the other man further speaking to Lyavel; querying where or not he would be aiding in the building. The Elf blinked, his face adopting what could only be described as a thoughtful expression. About a second later, the Elf stifled a laugh, rather poorly, and a smile of amusement spread across his face. “Oh... Oh, by the Gods, no!” He responded with a further laugh. He didn't know what these people had originally intended for this man to actually do; but Lyavel was most definitely content with standing around and looking pretty. He'd just tell others how he slaved away building this place, where he actually did nothing. You're so embarrassing... |
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| Graham Sideas | Wed Aug 3, 2011 7:01 pm Post #6 |
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He wouldn't hold the rambling against the man, the Phantom somewhat guilty of the action on several occasions. It came with his age, over time one began to repeat things. It had to be the human part of his lineage that caused it, well aware that most of the daemonic or abyssmal creatures he met preferring torture to rambling speeches. He narrowed his eyes at the abruptness of the way he stopped, however, his blood red eyes falling upon the tiny dragon that flew next to the man's face. He was reminded of two that were in his employ at some point. Alas, the creatures flew away the moment his phylactery shattered. They were intelligent enough to know that their master was gone, and they were free. He had a certain respect for the dragon-kin that populated Imythess, the average dragon of the lot often smart enough to hide from discovery, the drakes brutish enough to make a good life out of whatever is thrown at them. Reminded him a bit of the stout folk, though he felt the dwarves were a bad example. They become useless when it came to matters that couldn't be defeated by bashing one's head into it repeatedly. He simply shrugged, "I more meant just leaving the coast to die. The resources are going to be extensive, they could simply create a smaller town that doesn't have the scars of a daemonic invasion. This place has arcane scars and I imagine some of it's current inhabits are well aware... it's more trouble then it's worth. Besides, whats to stop more of the beasts from pouring out once the city is made, and before it can truly raise walls to defend itself? Just too many variables..." He shook his head. Humans and common sense was two facts of life that seemed hell-bent on keeping itself far from one another. He shook his head, remembering how a few of them threw themselves at the necromancer in the past, before the creation of his cult. The lot of them thought to gain something by offering themselves and family as pets for his experiments. He could barely remember any of their faces, let alone the autopsies themselves. He couldn't help but laugh when it came to the elf properly announcing he would not be assisting in the building. A useful one, this elf. He simply smiled with little mirth and crossed his arms over his chest beneath the surface of his cloak. He felt the elf was enough of an enigma to be interesting should this trip prove itself note-worthy. He wouldn't consider it so without something grand, of course, a simple attack from bandits or the like would just make it an understandable trip. But something truly grand? That would be glorious. His smile widened as he looked to the man, "Do try to keep yourself busy then, I would hate to think we lose a man to boredom before the end of this 'useful' foray into the bones of Taras." The sarcasm on his voice was evident, his hand waving and his undead forming into a line at the foundation of the building, beginning to mortar in stones and build the back wall of the cathedral. It would be something of a beauty when it was done, if it was built well enough. He looked up, thinking quietly to himself, It could use a decent enough bell tower... Never hurts to have a bell to warn folks that another army is coming in to slaughter the lot of them, honestly. |
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| Lyavel | Sat Aug 6, 2011 4:18 pm Post #7 |
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In all honesty, Lyavel had been somewhat apprehensive toward his what his esteemed associate's response may have been to the Elf's rather straight-forward, or better termed, blunt response. Whilst, as stated prior, Lyavel didn't so much as fear for his life around this man, he couldn't help but feel a slight sense of something evil; something the Elf disliked; beneath the sugar-coated words and exterior of the man. It had nothing to do with him being, presumably, undead or a member of the society of shadows; it was just one of those instinctual vibes which Lyavel seemed to get from the man. And such a feeling made the Elf ever so slightly uncomfortable in his presence... Though, not as if he'd let it show; it wasn't on a level where he was scared... just wary. Wary was a good word for the feeling. The response he did get however was both good and bad in a way; whereas the feeling of somewhat of a free sense where he wasn't feeling 'obliged' to do any work, his associate did point out a very poignant flaw in Lyavel's strategy of simply watching what would happen: boredom. Ultimately, the enemy Lyavel found to be ever stalking him in the endeavours across Chaon; and more often than not something which plagued him to a point where he had to find something engaging to do. Perhaps, if the building took a turn toward the boring side, Lyavel could potentially go and snoop around other portions of the city; perhaps he could even go and explore the large building under construction itself. But, he was unsure as to its safeness. So what exactly do you plan to do? After remaining respectfully quiet until the closure of the two humanoid's conversation, the dragon finally decided to pop back up; it's mental voice laced with both a tone of exasperation and interest. The posed question was apt enouhg and to the point. Lyavel had only just been mulling over thoughts of what he could do; perhaps the dragon might have been willing to aid Lyavel in a dilemma. Ideas were always welcome. “I haven't put much thought into it.” The nonchalant and overall uncaring response from the Elf was matched with a soft shrug, as he finally turned himself to face the small creature. He wasn't going to let it fly off and creep up on him this time. “If you have any ideas, I'm by all means open to suggestions, my draconic companion.” You could apologise to the gentleman for your rudeness... Or you could examine the building which you've so curiously been eyeing since its birth. The second part of the dragon's mental speech came added unnaturally; once it had released the futility of the first portion of its statement. The latter, however, tipped the balance for the curious Elf, and with the dragon's addition into his already brewing mental dilemma on what to do, he came to a decision that he would explore the structure which he had, apparently, been believed to have been aiding with. Maybe if his associate saw him doing something which may have looked productive, it might help the elf somehow in the long run. Either way, it was better to do in order to sate the curiosity of the Elf. Without further deliberation, he gave the dragon a soft nod, matched with a hum of agreement, and began to move off into the direction of the building. |
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| Graham Sideas | Sun Aug 7, 2011 7:46 am Post #8 |
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The necromancer went about his work, moving from man to man to ensure that each was doing their job. it was only the first day but they had setup a rather nice foundation for the building that they were setting up, and even some of the walls were beginning to be built. Many of the people were moving to setup tents already, however, the Phantom blissfully ignorant of the setting sun and his undead shared a similar quality as they continued about their work. The five that people were aware of kept about their building of the southern wall as many of the cultists moved to their camps. The necromancer sighed visibly as he saw the last of his men move off. They had a few masons that they hired on as mercenary builders so to speak, and he noticed that some of them stayed, and none of them were comfortable around him. At least they had a decent enough sense of self-preservation. He was quite sure that if they weren't making themselves useful he would have killed them and made them something that was useful. He sighed, moving back to his work. It was at night when he would begin his secret projects, when the rest were about their business of resting. His men began to build the thinner walls near the southern end, two special doors that would be barely noticeable unless a man looked directly at the stone, trying to find it. Opening it would simply require pressing down on the central stone on the door itself. Graham smiled as he watched the mason work go, the undead easily working with the most delicate of matters. The humans had finally gone to their camps as they begin to work on the doors, the undead remaining having only their eyes on their faces, their hands more befitting handling tools then being used as weaponry. He had always wondered why he made this particular type of undead, but now it seemed it showed it's hand to him. They were proving to be rather skilled masons, something that he would surely find himself in need of again. "This is proving quite.. interesting." He smiled, aiding occasionally to help it be a bit faster so far as wishing to finish at least the first door before dawn. There would be a library behind the main chapel to help disguise part of the bulk that would cover the entrance into the catacombs that would house his people, something to make the bulk behind the building nothing to question. Only the truly observant amongst folks would truly understand that there is stone there, and from there they could simply assume they were pillars of stone to hold the building up. So many things to be done, so many things to be planned... And yet, he felt that there was so little time to do it. On the wind, he could almost smell trouble in the very thick of it all. |
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| Lyavel | Wed Aug 10, 2011 1:17 pm Post #9 |
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The twilight framed by the setting sun was always a favourite aesthetic for Lyavel. Whilst the dutifully presented blanket of complete darkness had yet to spread its way across the world, the sun's disappearance into the horizon had left the area bathed in a soft, yet ever so slowly diminishing red hue. Back home, he would often make time just to watch both the sun setting, and rising; as not only were they sites of beauty and to be admired, but there was something soothing about the whole feeling. Either when the warm glow of the sun's rays were reclining or advancing, Lyavel found peace in admiring their beauty as they did so. It was almost a shame that the whole thing actually culminated in it going completely; day or night; it was just never the same as the twilight hours. Whilst the majority of those who had actually been partaking in the construction effort had begun to scatter away, presumably going to set up their tents and amenities for the night, Lyavel, though still without any intention to help working remained. Not only to observe the final attempts of the sun's rays to light up Chaon, but also to let the activity, or better put, the buzz of the site to calm down. Once there were less people clogging up the vicinity of the construction area, it would, hopefully, give the Elf enough time and space to freely snoop around the workings of the construction site as he deemed fit. Having to weave in and out of other people would dampen both the experience and level of intricacy the Elf would be able to gauge on the building. He didn't trust that this man, nor the Shadow Society was simply building in a ruined city without reason. Either he was being overly cynical and perhaps the man, and both Society had honest intentions; but the majority portion of his brain was both insulting and chastising the man over such naïve thoughts. Lyavel certainly wouldn't just build something for the sake of it; he'd install some kind of system; perhaps he'd charge money for entry; link it to another building. There was a multitude of things one could do under the guise of a simple building; and the cynicism was not only a useful trait, but also one which generally lead into his curiosity. Perhaps if he dug too deep, it may have lead to him being on the wrong side of his associate. Gods willing, his 'allegiance' to the Shadow Society may hinder such thoughts from actually taking place... Upon tearing his vision away from the spectacle of dusk, Lyavel inhaled, before turning to look at his faithful companion: the Fly Dragon. “It's peaceful,” he stated calmly; hand rising to gently move a stray bang of hairs away from his eyes. “Outside of the monotony of the build efforts, this place, this city; it just seems... quiet. I've found it rare to get such a peaceful night in this forsaken land for a long while.” I wouldn't let your guard down. I doubt everyone in this city is 'friendly' to your society and its ilk. The workers are necrotic in nature, and were it not for, presumably, the feeling of fear, I'm surprised that there has been little racism over the course of this single day... However, I cannot see such fragile bonds lasting for much longer. |
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| Graham Sideas | Thu Aug 11, 2011 10:45 am Post #10 |
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He was not that surprised at the man remaining behind to examine the building. He got the feeling that the man would likely have a certain curiosity to his ulterior motives, at least he hoped so. If the man wasn't intelligent enough to doubt those around him - especially those from an organization like the Shadow Society - and show a reasonable amount of caution. He had to admit he wasn't expecting someone quite so clever to be working with the Society, his opinion of the zombie that led them being painted on the rest of the Society. That of course meant that Graham would also have to offer a bit of discretion in his build plans, not one to wish to share his plans with the world. He was quite sure that if this elf decided the shadow society was no longer a good friend to have he wouldn't have issues leading whatever authority figure he could run to to one of his cults, and the one in Taras was going to be a rather large cell. Especially if the town could rise to it's former glory, something that the Phantom was absently hoping for. A town this large would prove itself to be quite a useful place to find powerful tools in, humans who knew little of the value their meat truly had. Ah, but to dream of the future was a silly thing for the Phantom to do. He walked to the edges of the building's foundation, stepping over it and moving towards the edges of the premises. He had an uncomfortable feeling as he looked out towards the shadows of the buildings, as if the darkness itself was staring back and him and waiting for the Phantom and his ilk to show weakness. It was a rarity for him to feel such feelings, paranoia beginning to wash over him as he narrowed his gaze into the alleys of nearby buildings. The Cathedral would be a rather large part of a district of the town, set in the center of many buildings. For now they had a lot of space, but he could just feel the atmosphere of cramped streets as he looked out at shattered cobblestone roads and collapsing stone and wood buildings. He could swear he smelled flames in the air. Perhaps that was just the wind playing tricks on him, a smile crossing his face as his brain tried to convince itself of this. The undead continued about their work without any notice of their master and his discomfort, each of the four of them that went about the work setting stones in place and using mortar to lock it into place. They were each of the Carrion variety, a type that Graham wasn't remarkably fond of. Their use here was merely because the only working area of their faces were their eyes, something that their master had felt was important when one worked with stone, mortar, hammers, and other materials that tended to make one's body useless if used improperly. They set stones in place to attempt to finish at least a single wall, ladders and stools being set in place to assist them in making the wall to it's full night for the first night. It would not be a bad amount of progress, all things considered, and it would be especially easy to customize the wall during the next few nights while everyone else was resting. While their master mused and shouted at shadow the undead went about their work, mindlessly setting stone to stone. It was almost beautifully efficient, if the method and meaning behind this buildings creation wasn't so morbid and twisted. |
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| Lyavel | Thu Aug 11, 2011 9:29 pm Post #11 |
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The dragon's words couldn't help but stir something deep within Lyavel; a mixture of emotions; bordering upon disgust and humour. The words were true; though the Elf had overlooked it, it was relatively common knowledge that the world around him was most definitely not an accepting and equal place. Racism was prevalent basically everywhere he went, and matched with ignorance of others, just deepened the dark views that Lyavel had on the rest of the inhabitants of the world. The peaceful day which Lyavel had been through could have been so easily interrupted by an intervention of something; perhaps a stray argument which was a catalyst for a split between something. Even the appearance of a delusional, overzealous Paladin could have easily put a halt to proceedings. Whilst security was clearly present, Lyavel couldn't help but think what would incur were the problems to arise from within. But, such thoughts were soon shrugged off by the Elf; his nonchalant and calm expression remaining as he gave the dragon a response. “Then that shall be a bridge to be crossed once such a time is upon us. There seems to be little problems arising as of yet; and I believe it better to, albeit naively, continue to believe that such shall continue into the foreseeable future. After all, that shall lead to a more enjoyable experience for all, no?” Though laced with an undertone of calmness, Lyavel's voice was rather cold in its body. He gave the dragon no time, nor reason to response; the closing question was clearly rhetorical in its nature, and almost immediately after his speech, he began to make his way closer toward the site of construction. Naturally, the man made sure he was wary around any possible methods of hazards; such as falling slabs, falling undead, cave-ins. Perhaps some kind of protective headwear would have made such areas safer. I'm surprised it's taken you over the entire course of a day to actually come this close to the building. I still don't understand how are content with doing little to nothing over the course of an age and not get bored... Lyavel sniffed in amusement at the dragon's reappearing voice; a small smile belaying his mirth following up. “Do you think it wise to explore a building which has yet to have even been started on?” The question was rather simple; and Lyavel made sure of hammering this point home to the dragon. Not only did he make hand motions to match his statement in the form of a questioning shrug of the shoulders, but his voice held a condescending tone. “I'd rather be able to examine something which has at least had some kind of work put into it. Wouldn't you?” Though hearing the dragon's mental scoffing at the Elf's, if not for a better word, rude, response to it, Lyavel took no notice and continued to make his way toward the area of the ruins. Unlike his associate, he didn't have the ability to defy the laws of gravity imposed upon him; and as such, the trip took slightly longer. Even further lengthened by the personal security measures taken by the man to ensure the prevention of an early and avoidable death. Then again, from what he had seen of the other members of the Shadow Societies thus far, the Elf truly had doubts that he would remain dead for very long. He was fairly sure that, unless he was deemed unimportant, which he doubted, he would more than likely be returned to the world as a creature of undeath. The elf honestly had no idea how he would react to such a situation; he had never really clicked with undead creatures. Whilst he had no problems against them, there was just a nagging feeling when around them that edged at a sense of caution and dislike. But, perhaps that was understandable; the forests back home where the man had spent the majority of his previous, and boring life had harboured little in the ways of necromancy. Perhaps it was a natural response? Undead were branded as creatures of both evil and fear. Whatever the case, he stopped his mind from wandering further as he looked up to examine the work going into the single current wall of the structure. The view from closer up seemed clearer; the darkness now making it difficult to see, even from such a close distance. |
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| Graham Sideas | Sun Aug 14, 2011 1:44 am Post #12 |
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The undead seemed to silently watch the elf while they worked, uncomfortable around the presence of a living creature while they went about their work. They would need to be careful or they would give away their master's plan. They weren't the most covert of workers, but their master's plan was it seeming like him taking advantage of their sleepless existence, pushing their bodies that never tire to levels of work that no human can follow them in. If he truly wanted to cement the point, he would work as well, but he would truly rather avoid that extreme. He watched the shadows closer as he began to hear the shuffling of feet in the alleyways. He was well aware of Taras not being empty, the phantom dematerializing as he moved backwards. He had a feeling that whatever would come for them would wait for night, oh if only they knew what was awaiting them on this side of the darkness. The first of them showed their face, the white lights of their living aura burning bright in the necromancer's vision. He could trace similar dancing lights across the rows of buildings, though he couldn't get a precise count in many of the places that they crowded on top of one another. His lips split open as he began to recite arcane word after arcane word, the first bolt of twisted black energy flying from his finger tips. It's power twisted into the man, his life quickly sapped and blotted out entirely. The attack was satisfying for the Phantom, the exhilaration of magic running through his veins being almost too much for him to stand. As the second of the filth showed their faces, the undead dropped their work and began their charge towards the enemy. They ran on hands and feet like rabid animals, the first of them appearing slamming headlong into the first bandit, it's fangs finding hold in the man's neck as readily as it would any other prey. More bandits rushed from the streets and homes while undead rushed from their work, going about the business that they were built to do. Each tracked movement perfectly with their undead eyes, finding target after target faster then the bandits could in the darkness of the night. Their master rematerialized as he stood near the building, watching as numerous white lights quickly flamed out and became black. As each bandit died, the white contrails of their souls pulled themselves towards the black orb he kept in his breast pocket. At least their interruption was a bountiful harvest. The battle went on with the Phantom merely watching, unwilling to assist his servants in their little skirmish. One or two of them fell, quickly to be replaced by one of the bandits allies. It would be a simple task to sever his will from these, and turn another of the corpses into mindless fodder, built simply to build. It was rather poetic now that he thought of it. They came for loot and the lucky amongst them would be charged with building. The unlucky would be dinner for the builders. All would have their purpose, and none of them would find their deaths a waste. It was more then most living creatures could ask, and he truly felt merciful as he planned each step in his head. Everything was always in it's proper place, oh yes indeed... |
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| Lyavel | Tue Aug 16, 2011 6:56 am Post #13 |
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Lyavel, now that he was closer to the source of the building action, found himself becoming more curious and to the ins and outs of the workers his associate was using in order to effectively construct. He was interested in both the creation of such, if not for a better word, perfect constructs; both efficient and relevant to the design of whatever their master wished them to do. Designed each solely for a purpose, and the purpose would get done in time which no mortal, without the aid of magic would be able to keep up to. Did he not have so much pride, he probably would have used similar tactics himself; but, unfortunately, whilst the man put thought into it, there was no one better in doing something, than if he simply did it himself... Of course, that meant he would only do whatever it was that he wanted to do; but, whilst irrelevant, it was fitting for the man. That bridge you mentioned, it's he- Oh, you're already leaving. How noble of you. Lyavel had already noticed the encroaching group of people merely moments the dragon beside him had mentioned it, and had already begun slipping back towards the safe(r) area of the camp which was directly behind him. He could only scoff at the the dragon's mental statement; he was surprised the creature still made such comments, even though it probably knew, better than anyone other than himself, what Lyavel was actually like. He gave the creature little else other than the simple gesture, and was soon belated with a mental lecture on how it would have been noble and 'right' for him to aid his associate in the suddenly erupting battle. Naturally, being more concerned with getting out of sight as quickly as possible, Lyavel didn't take in, nor even listen to half of what the dragon said. He picked up the odd word now and again, but he didn't overly care. Once he got far enough back, he slipped behind a, well placed, stack of timber; which was presumably going to be for something in the construction; and due to the Elf not being an architect, he had little to no idea where in the abyss they would be put. He could make logical assumptions though. Once he was safely 'hidden', he observed the battle which had only just begun when he had first slipped away from it, in order to preserve his own life. Well, it wasn't as much of a battle as it was a complete slaughter. It was clear that these newcomers had not been expecting to come up against the menagerie of undead monsters which had been created by his associate. Were it not for his disdain for their complete ineptitude and their shambling tactics and combat style, completely outmatched by the machine of the Phantom, the Elf may have just felt sorry for the men. They were nothing more than lambs to a slaughter. And even once they fell an undead, they were only replaced moments later by another; one of their former own at that. It was a true spectacle to watch. Lyavel was also beginning to respect his associate more. It seemed he was very competent in what he did. |
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| Graham Sideas | Sat Aug 20, 2011 8:40 pm Post #14 |
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The fight had been a remarkably short lived one, holes beginning to appear beneath some of the more dangerous bandits so they were dragged below the ground, the two undead that were burrowing beneath taking them to a painfully slow death. The first additions to the catacombs below, rotting carefully in the hands of the Master's Children. A fate that the Phantom would have to admit he wouldn't wish on the most pitiful of humans. He could hear the screaming of those that fell into the chambers they had dug below. Those that weren't pulled under were being killed by their allies, friends that they relied upon until not minutes ago, tearing at them with nails and claws. He mused that they wished they had better grooming when their allies untended claws dug into them. If it wasn't the claws, it was the teeth that would get them. Humans had remarkably strong jaws, at least a little impressive when it came to breaking things open. He'd have to design something a little stronger to assist in his works. Perhaps with a two-fold purpose? Ah, the possibilities that came with the things he worked with. "That is enough, let them run." He waved his hand, the undead breaking off their pursuit as the bandits rushed away from the scene. They would not likely be back for a long time, they may even leave Taras. He chuckled as he wondered if that would count as his good deed of the decade. Phantom monster helps clear Taras of crime, maybe he'd get a nice little title or something from the locals. That would be rather quaint, maybe even warm and fuzzy if he felt like playing nice. He never did. A wave of his hand sent his undead inside, moving to build once again. The would begin their work on the library in the back end of the cathedral. It would be at least half done before the sun rose, the rest of it able to be started quickly and built around the area he would use to stage his dark little dealings. His wraith sight traced the lines of black that slithered over white beneath the dirt, a smile crossing his face as he used it to trace their digging routes, their construction of rooms that his other undead would go down to line with stone within a matter of days. Impressive work, he had to give the planning that. The catacombs would only be an issue if they broke into the sewers, making it easier to find. Perhaps he could use that? It would be pleasant if his cultists could take over the sewers, using it to take over the town. So many plans to make, so little time. He turned his head and caught the elf keeping himself at a distance. A smile crossed his face, he had to admit that he enjoyed the style. He personally enjoyed keeping himself away from fights as well, letting his minions do the work. He was nowhere near comfortable with living things, even bordering upon a hateful desire to wipe them all out, but sometimes he had to give one of them their dues - even if its just having a style he can appreciate. He grinned to himself, "We will need to talk sometime, little elf... it could be quite a fun conversation." His men moved to their work, most of the originals replaced by mindless undead, those who couldn't even form a simple thought. They each continuously muttered a single word over and over again, unable to control their mouths or minds. "Ghandrihar... Ghandrihar... Ghandrihar.." |
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| Lyavel | Wed Aug 24, 2011 4:07 am Post #15 |
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Once it had calmed down to a level where it was obvious that there was hostility left in the area, then Lyavel deemed it proper for himself to come out of his makeshift hiding spot and back into the open area of the construction site once again. Whilst he couldn't help but feel a sense of arrogant disdain toward the barbaric events which had just taken place before him, he retained a form of justification in the fact that the undead were, well, undead, and were doing presumably what they were supposed to do; they were an efficient, beautiful war machine, and were something which made the Elf glad to have the Phantom as an ally. The bandits, however, were viewed as little more than petty scum by the man; cheap, opportunistic cowards who tried to live by violence. And not only violence for that matter, cheap assault and fear tactics, which, with a shiny sword alone, were enough to steal poorer folks' hard earned food and money. With a sigh, he brushed some dust off of his shoulder; no doubt a remnant from the statutory observation he had just been making from in his concealed position. He had found himself with a slight feeling of both disgust and elation upon finally returning out from his, not too welcoming position. He hated violence. He really hated violence. And he couldn't force himself to find joy in watching the fight that had unfolded; but the feeling of being impressed by the Phantom's army remained; it was like watching an execution, and praising the executioner for his fabulous axe skills; or something alone them lines. Maybe he was just trying to justify it himself. The elation, however, had come from the end of the fight; he was now once again able to stand out in the open, not having to worry about being killed. Though it was slightly forced, the feeling of disgust deep within his stomach was masked by the surge of 'happiness' once he stepped back into the open. His life was precious. Whilst being slightly apprehensive to return to the area of the actual building once again, slightly fearful that a second group of bandits potentially making their appearance known in the area, his retained sense of curiosity was still rather overpowering in the sense that he wanted to know what this man planned to do with the building. After all that he had witnessed, it had only affirmed the man's suspicions that this building was being built for much more nefarious purposes than what appeared in the naked eye. And whilst he wasn't able to see what they were quite at that moment in time, he would find out. Whether that was at that date, or if he would come back at a later date, when the building was completed, and look through every last inch of it then; he would do it. Just so he could gert a mental gauge of what his associate(s) planned to do. Have you ever thought of aiding peo- “I didn't see you in the thick of it, Sten. Do not tar me with a brush of which you are the same colour.” The dragon's chastisement was cut off by a rather blunt and snappish response from the Elf; which worked in effectively silencing further comments from the creature. He was in little mood for the dragon's mental musings, and desires for Lyavel to be someone that he was not at that moment in time; and as such, he wouldn't deal with it. Without a further word, he began to walk toward the construction site for a second time. |
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4:33 PM May 22
