As the shadows grew longer over the tainted soil that once was the grove of Ki, a small pack of bent over figures moved closer to its core. The low growls of the brutish kor language lifted the veil of silence as they carefully formed a small protective circle around it.
The group balanced on a rowdy and ill at ease morale and were almost about to break up as a black bat, swooped down in their midst. The air immediately quivered with unnatural might as the shape, obfuscated in a cloud of darkness transformed into humanoid form in flowing long robes. Its beauty was unmistakably pure, yet its lack of warmth and humanity sent eerie feelings to anyone calling himself alive. The orks needed not to guess, they knew who had appeared.
Father Arghivius barred his fangs, hissing at the nervous pack making sure they would not abandon their post prematurely. Then he knelt at the defiled alter with a dark prayer escaping his thin lips.
The moon cast its ever watchful eye toward the grove as the group almost were about to dissolve. As Marrent pulled out what he had been hiding inside his robes foreboding clouds blocked its sight and a cold wind flew over the glade.
The Dhaken blade glimmered with pitch black horror. Arghivius rose from his kneeling position and nodded toward the ork captain. He cracked a cruel and pointed toward one of the orks. Its eyes widened in horror and instantaneously made an attempt to flee. His pack mates would not let it. They threw themselves over him, knowing that they would be safe if their brother was scarified. The struggle was fierce but short.
Under the red, excited eyes of the undead priest the beast was dragged, squealing and screaming for his life. He kept resisting what was about to come - It was futile. His comrades heaved his cantankerous body onto the alter nailing him there with raw strength as Marrent began his chanting…
Foul ways...
-
vastgoten
- Dasarian Hero
- Posts: 1994
- Joined: Mon May 05, 2008 7:08 pm
- Main Player Character: Father Marrent Arghivius
Foul ways...
Last edited by vastgoten on Thu Sep 20, 2012 1:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
vastgoten
- Dasarian Hero
- Posts: 1994
- Joined: Mon May 05, 2008 7:08 pm
- Main Player Character: Father Marrent Arghivius
Re: Foul ways...
”The word gives and the word takes!” the dark priest hymned and lifted the dagger over the intended sacrifice. He splashed the content of a vial of blood onto the victims face, covering him with the red blood of an unknown innocent.
”Give unto me the weapon and I shall form the word in your image!” the Vampire priest gazed toward the darkened skies. ”I will taint the earth and bring destruction and despair to those who oppose your will. Through me your weapon will be reforged and feared!” Marrents voice rose far above the glade.
”Show me the path!” And with that word he trusted his dagger into the belly of the terrified ork upon the alter. It did not die immediately. The vampire continued to carve circles and crude triangles upon its body reciting the black word of the Unholy Trinity to fully unleash the potency of the Dhaken blade firmly held with both his hands.
Finally, the ork roars silenced as his body fell numb. His spirit wanted to flee yet the power of the blade kept it trapped. There was a short moment of silence. The other orks let go of their pack mate and looked a little bewildered at their leader. Marrent kept the blade buried inside the victim. His posture remained calm, yet his face could not hide his perverse bated breath.
The first raindrops hid the sound of a tiny electrical pulse emanating from the Dhaken blade. It slowly crept from the tip of the razor sharp edge and upon the cadaver f the dead ork on the alter. The corpse started to twist in an abnormal way as small black implosions burst and dissolved his flesh. Without forewarning a lightning bold struck out, grappling the closest ork. It screamed in pain having no time to understand the process. The beam of lightning kept him in place, feeding the cadaver of the alter with power. The other orks took wise actions of withdrawal although it was to late – the Dhaken blade required its sacrifice and the Vampire would not let any ork escape their gruesome fate. One by one they were caught in the draining lightning. All rays of lightning leading back to the withering corpse on the altar. Only bones remained of it as Father Arghivius drew a triangle in the air in front of the altar and knelt down.
”I am ready - master!”
The breathing dark cloud rose around the alter. An unholy prescence approached...
Anyone rushing forth toward the glade would shortly afterwards find the defiled grove abandoned by its vampiric visitors. A smell of burnt flesh would hit his nostrils and a group of seven Orks corpses littering the ground.
”Give unto me the weapon and I shall form the word in your image!” the Vampire priest gazed toward the darkened skies. ”I will taint the earth and bring destruction and despair to those who oppose your will. Through me your weapon will be reforged and feared!” Marrents voice rose far above the glade.
”Show me the path!” And with that word he trusted his dagger into the belly of the terrified ork upon the alter. It did not die immediately. The vampire continued to carve circles and crude triangles upon its body reciting the black word of the Unholy Trinity to fully unleash the potency of the Dhaken blade firmly held with both his hands.
Finally, the ork roars silenced as his body fell numb. His spirit wanted to flee yet the power of the blade kept it trapped. There was a short moment of silence. The other orks let go of their pack mate and looked a little bewildered at their leader. Marrent kept the blade buried inside the victim. His posture remained calm, yet his face could not hide his perverse bated breath.
The first raindrops hid the sound of a tiny electrical pulse emanating from the Dhaken blade. It slowly crept from the tip of the razor sharp edge and upon the cadaver f the dead ork on the alter. The corpse started to twist in an abnormal way as small black implosions burst and dissolved his flesh. Without forewarning a lightning bold struck out, grappling the closest ork. It screamed in pain having no time to understand the process. The beam of lightning kept him in place, feeding the cadaver of the alter with power. The other orks took wise actions of withdrawal although it was to late – the Dhaken blade required its sacrifice and the Vampire would not let any ork escape their gruesome fate. One by one they were caught in the draining lightning. All rays of lightning leading back to the withering corpse on the altar. Only bones remained of it as Father Arghivius drew a triangle in the air in front of the altar and knelt down.
”I am ready - master!”
The breathing dark cloud rose around the alter. An unholy prescence approached...
Anyone rushing forth toward the glade would shortly afterwards find the defiled grove abandoned by its vampiric visitors. A smell of burnt flesh would hit his nostrils and a group of seven Orks corpses littering the ground.
-
vastgoten
- Dasarian Hero
- Posts: 1994
- Joined: Mon May 05, 2008 7:08 pm
- Main Player Character: Father Marrent Arghivius
Re: Foul ways...
He had always recognized these moments as some of the best in his life. Sitting by the river watching the water pass by. Natures running its own course, no toil, no yoke no nothing. It was just him, the fish and a moment of peace.
For a twelve year old his life was not extraordinary, he did what was expected from him and his family needed his youthful body to support them - especially since his father had been summoned away to the front about a year ago. They had never heard from him since…
The moon was reflected in the water, he always found that comforting. As if someone was watching over his nightly escapades. Tonight it appeared somewhat reddish. He did not like it.
He shook the image away and returned his attention to the work at hand – fishing.
”Any luck boy?” the hoarse voice broke the silence, creeping closer from across the water. The boy looked up and noticed a figure kneeling at the far riverbank. He wore long dark robes and a hood covered his face.
”No luck so far mister” he replied cautiously. He got an eerie feeling and suddenly decided that he should leave. He started to pack up his things as the figure across the river touched the watery surface with the tip of his fingers. It caused small ripples.
”Are you leaving me already boy?” he questioned. The boy suddenly felt even more ill at ease. Without answering he threw the fishing rod over his shoulder and turned to rush away. He slammed right into the torso of a muscular, hairy and grinning beast.
Orks.. here? was all he had time to think before strong arms grabbed him by his shoulders and without any effort turned him around again.
The figure across the river remained kneeling, stroking the surface gently.
”I think I want you to stay boy.” he finally stated and pulled back his hood. His face was twisted, red eyes, sharp fangs and a monstrous pale skin. It was more than enough for the boy to understand. He tried to scream but a massive ork palm pressed against his face, almost choking him.
Father Arghivius rose with a cruel grin on his lips.
”Don’t be like that boy – you are about to witness something marvelous. In fact, I know many who would envy you.” the vampire folded his hands in prayer. The time had come to carry forth the heritage of the prophecy that had landed upon his shoulders. He felt excitement; wonder and a searing pain at once. He recognized the sensation by now and did not hesitate to continue. He threw his head back starting to chant.
”I grasp this power in my hand! Upon your blade I bring the blinded ones the curse! Give unto them famine and may all who feed upon these lands be struck down in sickness and despair!”
He raised his left arm, only now revealing that he had been holding a black dagger. There he tauntingly exposed it to the moon, barring his teeth in a mocking hiss.
”The promise was broken!”
And with that he slowly lowered the Dhaken Blade toward the surface of the river. And before the eyes of the young child blackness spread, like a sinful fog, across the river. Before the younglings horrified eyes the water quickly started to boil. Fume bore witness of the raging struggle the water put up against the wicked blade.
The Vampire looked on in awe, mumbling dark prayers, praising the first One. Within minutes the water calmed. Its surface no longer reflecting the moon, its temperature changed.
The first fish rose to the surface – where it found itself floating, cold dead. Soon he was joined by more. Everywhere the river expelled its living creatures. The distorted episode was enough proof. Marrent raised the Dhaken blade from the water praising the dark powers behind it.
The evil laughter echoed down the river bank as the Vampire leaped, and with a quick shift into bat shape he flew across the river toward the boy and landed returning to his old form with a victorious grin.
”Your turn ” he teased…
…
In the morning the inhabitants of the nearby tavern was met by the horrendous sight. Tied to a log floating in the river, the young farmer boy, Mathew, barely clung to life. His eye sockets empty, his mouth crudely stitched together, his ears removed and his body covered in a black foreboding mud. Across his naked torso a pyramid had been carved upon his flesh.
Despite this gruesome deed, the crowd gathering soon turned their attention toward the river itself.
It was dead.
For a twelve year old his life was not extraordinary, he did what was expected from him and his family needed his youthful body to support them - especially since his father had been summoned away to the front about a year ago. They had never heard from him since…
The moon was reflected in the water, he always found that comforting. As if someone was watching over his nightly escapades. Tonight it appeared somewhat reddish. He did not like it.
He shook the image away and returned his attention to the work at hand – fishing.
”Any luck boy?” the hoarse voice broke the silence, creeping closer from across the water. The boy looked up and noticed a figure kneeling at the far riverbank. He wore long dark robes and a hood covered his face.
”No luck so far mister” he replied cautiously. He got an eerie feeling and suddenly decided that he should leave. He started to pack up his things as the figure across the river touched the watery surface with the tip of his fingers. It caused small ripples.
”Are you leaving me already boy?” he questioned. The boy suddenly felt even more ill at ease. Without answering he threw the fishing rod over his shoulder and turned to rush away. He slammed right into the torso of a muscular, hairy and grinning beast.
Orks.. here? was all he had time to think before strong arms grabbed him by his shoulders and without any effort turned him around again.
The figure across the river remained kneeling, stroking the surface gently.
”I think I want you to stay boy.” he finally stated and pulled back his hood. His face was twisted, red eyes, sharp fangs and a monstrous pale skin. It was more than enough for the boy to understand. He tried to scream but a massive ork palm pressed against his face, almost choking him.
Father Arghivius rose with a cruel grin on his lips.
”Don’t be like that boy – you are about to witness something marvelous. In fact, I know many who would envy you.” the vampire folded his hands in prayer. The time had come to carry forth the heritage of the prophecy that had landed upon his shoulders. He felt excitement; wonder and a searing pain at once. He recognized the sensation by now and did not hesitate to continue. He threw his head back starting to chant.
”I grasp this power in my hand! Upon your blade I bring the blinded ones the curse! Give unto them famine and may all who feed upon these lands be struck down in sickness and despair!”
He raised his left arm, only now revealing that he had been holding a black dagger. There he tauntingly exposed it to the moon, barring his teeth in a mocking hiss.
”The promise was broken!”
And with that he slowly lowered the Dhaken Blade toward the surface of the river. And before the eyes of the young child blackness spread, like a sinful fog, across the river. Before the younglings horrified eyes the water quickly started to boil. Fume bore witness of the raging struggle the water put up against the wicked blade.
The Vampire looked on in awe, mumbling dark prayers, praising the first One. Within minutes the water calmed. Its surface no longer reflecting the moon, its temperature changed.
The first fish rose to the surface – where it found itself floating, cold dead. Soon he was joined by more. Everywhere the river expelled its living creatures. The distorted episode was enough proof. Marrent raised the Dhaken blade from the water praising the dark powers behind it.
The evil laughter echoed down the river bank as the Vampire leaped, and with a quick shift into bat shape he flew across the river toward the boy and landed returning to his old form with a victorious grin.
”Your turn ” he teased…
…
In the morning the inhabitants of the nearby tavern was met by the horrendous sight. Tied to a log floating in the river, the young farmer boy, Mathew, barely clung to life. His eye sockets empty, his mouth crudely stitched together, his ears removed and his body covered in a black foreboding mud. Across his naked torso a pyramid had been carved upon his flesh.
Despite this gruesome deed, the crowd gathering soon turned their attention toward the river itself.
It was dead.
-
vastgoten
- Dasarian Hero
- Posts: 1994
- Joined: Mon May 05, 2008 7:08 pm
- Main Player Character: Father Marrent Arghivius
Re: Foul ways...
The fog was too dense to be natural. Hucker took a deep breath. Something was wrong. He grasped the shovel with both his hands and cast a nervous look over his shoulder making sure the house was barred. He could sense his wives peering through the one window of their small cottage.
He took a step forward out onto the field and narrowed his eyes trying to penetrate the darkness ahead. The silence was deafening.
The livestock was never this silent he frowned.. If a wolf had… he felt something sticky on the ground and almost tripped.
The Cadaver was not alone, as Hucker turned about the mist dissolved and more and more of the dead cows revealed itself.
”No…” he gasped. The sight was sickening. The entire flock just lay there. There was no sign of struggle. It looked unnatural… Taking a closer look he noticed ”There is no blood…” he managed.
”There will be plenty of blood soon enough my son…” the Chilly voice had him startled and he turned raising his shovel in vain defense.
Father Arghivius rose from the mist. It was as if the wind used the fog to rebuild his body in front of the horrified farmer’s eyes.
”Upon these lands shalth the One walk! Woe upon the Blasphemy!” the monster hissed and lifted the dark Dhaken Blade above his head.
”Who… what… ” Hucker felt a chill down his spine but he had no time to react. The priest let the dagger come down against Huckers arm wrists in a quick and delicate flow. The hands, still grasping the shovel, fell to the ground. Hucker, horrified, watched the stomps where his hands used to be attached.
”With this blood I plant a new seed! In your Image shalth the Empire rise!” the maddened chant ended as the Vampire forcefully knelt and drew the dagger deep inside the soil.
”Your will be done, Master” Marrent loked up at Hucker with a cruel grin. ”Do not worry, I will not harm you further.” he said with a played sincerity. He then rose watching the spot where he had cursed the ground in fascination.
”You will have the great honor of witnessing the work of the shadow child. Behold the wonder!” The undead priest turned and started to wander toward the cottage. The crops slowly started to blacken and wither around the cadavers of Huckens cows. He felt an odd sensation in his feet.
What is happening...? Hucker felt realization creeping closer. His life… his land… he collapsed exhausted on the ground unable to support himself without his hands his head landed on the spot where the Blade had burrowed a hole. It immediately started to burn.
The screams of his wife and child was the last thing that reached his rotting ear. Blisters and decay soon spread across his body . His family…
…
As the morning broke over the small village, screams and shouts in disbelief turned everyone’s attention to the young men who had gone to work the fields – The crops that had been so promising had begun to wither over a night. The men soon started to feel ill… Shortly afterwards rumors reached them about the Hucken place. His land was completely barren and he himself was nowhere to be seen. His wife had been found, mad and cursed, in a state no longer living. Whatever twisted powers lay behind it had made sure that she was feasting on their children’s tiny lifeless corpses.
Above all - the land was dead.
He took a step forward out onto the field and narrowed his eyes trying to penetrate the darkness ahead. The silence was deafening.
The livestock was never this silent he frowned.. If a wolf had… he felt something sticky on the ground and almost tripped.
The Cadaver was not alone, as Hucker turned about the mist dissolved and more and more of the dead cows revealed itself.
”No…” he gasped. The sight was sickening. The entire flock just lay there. There was no sign of struggle. It looked unnatural… Taking a closer look he noticed ”There is no blood…” he managed.
”There will be plenty of blood soon enough my son…” the Chilly voice had him startled and he turned raising his shovel in vain defense.
Father Arghivius rose from the mist. It was as if the wind used the fog to rebuild his body in front of the horrified farmer’s eyes.
”Upon these lands shalth the One walk! Woe upon the Blasphemy!” the monster hissed and lifted the dark Dhaken Blade above his head.
”Who… what… ” Hucker felt a chill down his spine but he had no time to react. The priest let the dagger come down against Huckers arm wrists in a quick and delicate flow. The hands, still grasping the shovel, fell to the ground. Hucker, horrified, watched the stomps where his hands used to be attached.
”With this blood I plant a new seed! In your Image shalth the Empire rise!” the maddened chant ended as the Vampire forcefully knelt and drew the dagger deep inside the soil.
”Your will be done, Master” Marrent loked up at Hucker with a cruel grin. ”Do not worry, I will not harm you further.” he said with a played sincerity. He then rose watching the spot where he had cursed the ground in fascination.
”You will have the great honor of witnessing the work of the shadow child. Behold the wonder!” The undead priest turned and started to wander toward the cottage. The crops slowly started to blacken and wither around the cadavers of Huckens cows. He felt an odd sensation in his feet.
What is happening...? Hucker felt realization creeping closer. His life… his land… he collapsed exhausted on the ground unable to support himself without his hands his head landed on the spot where the Blade had burrowed a hole. It immediately started to burn.
The screams of his wife and child was the last thing that reached his rotting ear. Blisters and decay soon spread across his body . His family…
…
As the morning broke over the small village, screams and shouts in disbelief turned everyone’s attention to the young men who had gone to work the fields – The crops that had been so promising had begun to wither over a night. The men soon started to feel ill… Shortly afterwards rumors reached them about the Hucken place. His land was completely barren and he himself was nowhere to be seen. His wife had been found, mad and cursed, in a state no longer living. Whatever twisted powers lay behind it had made sure that she was feasting on their children’s tiny lifeless corpses.
Above all - the land was dead.