||Cleansing the Outcasts (SO ~v~ Outcast)
|Posted: 2002-08-14 22:20  Profile;
((OOC: starting stats are..
OUTCAST NOBILITY (Outcasts) 19 8,894,147 468,113
SANCTUM OFFICIUM (SO) 12 3,442,354 286,862
This will be the last SO ooc note in this thread.
So it’s a case of “them or us” is it?
Joshua leaned with his back against the window and looked over his shoulder at the people moving around below, peasants going about their daily business. They meant nothing to him, just more pawns to be used and abused.
The advisor nodded in agreement with Joshua’s rhetoric and proceeded to explain the situation.
Messengers came to us during the last setting of the sun and explianed that a silent peace treaty had been agreed to between Govan, Archangel and Kaz.
He eyed the captain warily, knowing that any word that even seemed slightly out of place would result in his being beheaded. Joshua seemed more amused than angry though.
I see. How sneaky. Tell me, advisor, why aren’t we as sneaky as that?
The advisor shrugged his shallow shoulders, unable to give an answer. Unable or unwilling. Joshua chuckled and snorted through his nostrils, politics bored him.
They also claimed to suspect us of burning their temples whilst they were engaged in battle with WoR and the Ten.
And did we? The captain demanded.
No. Was the advisors reply, he self-consciously scratched his head before continuing. Nevertheless, they have expressed their intentions to attack us.
Joshua narrowed his piercing blue eyes and looked away from the window to gaze upon his advisor.
Have they indeed.
He couldn’t help but laugh about the situation, a tear of mirth rolled down his cheek as he burst into fits of laughter, the sound echoing around the huge “throne” room. The guards looked a little disconcerted about the whole affair and avoided any kind of eye contact with their eccentric surrogate leader.
And are they..
The words struggled for release between bouts of laughter.
So damned arrogant as to think we wouldn’t find out?
He slowly began to control his guffaws.
Do they think that we of the Darden faith don’t communicate?
The advisor wanted to join in with the mirth but thought it more prudent to remain aloof.
So it would appear, my lord. So it would appear.
Well this is grand!
Joshua rushed forward, pinched the advisors cheeks and gave him a kiss on the forehead. The advisor in turn looked understandably perplexed.
Well of course it is. This means I get the chance to show off my new moves on the battlefield, maybe I’ll sing to them as well.
Joshua said, beaming brightly at the mere thought of singing and dancing once again on a bloodied battlefield.
Ah.. yes.. of course.
The call to war had been sounded, row upon row of reavers lined the hilltop, each of them snarling and snapping at one another, eager to taste the blood of heathens once again, desperate to rend flesh and crush bones with their razor sharp teeth and claws.
As though the heavens were aware of what was about to happen, they opened up, huge droplets of rain crashed down onto the army, giving their black skin an oily appearance, causing them to shine unnaturally in the fading sunlight.
Joshua stood in the centre of them all, a huge grin on his face, for he was just as eager as they were to fight.
Strange that these demonic creatures of war would follow a human, but then this human was.. different.. he had earned their respect and they had most definitely earned his.
Behind this hideous army of obscenities stood the archers, their bows pulled back taut and ready to release their fury upon the city below.
A huge sprawling metropolis.
This war would be a challenge of the highest level, but then Joshua had always enjoyed a good challenge, as was the case with the rest of the Officium.
Joshua nodded his head to the bugle-boy who stood wide-eyed and full of fear at the back of the archers. Noticing the unspoken order the boy sounded a long melancholy note on his bugle.
The archers released their payload of metal fury upon the city and Joshua ran down the hill with a spring in his step, pausing now and then to do a little pirouette.
Suddenly he burst into song.
The reavers recognised this as his call for the war to begin and they flooded down the hill, a seething black mass of demonic fury ready to be released upon the heathens of the Outcast.
Only time would tell which way the battle would rage.
Call me cruel and I'll smile.
Call me evil and I'll laugh.
Call me a fool and I'll feed you your innards.
Captain of Maledicts armies
[ This Message was edited by: Joshua Black on 2002-08-15 10:24 ]
|Posted: 2002-08-14 22:27  Profile;
[ooc] only ooc note to be made: We are picking up right from this thread, as we were there. One last thing. This link - read it if you're going to actually sail on us. so sick of people roleplaying marching at an island. ps - ooc is too long, mal. pss. i hate ubb[/ooc]
Lady Raven! The shout drew my attention away from the scene in the hall, and I turned to the Knight coming up to me.
Yes, Derek? I asked, the Knight saluting quickly. The atmosphere, already tense in the hall, grew even more tense.
Banners of the Sanctum march on the land we have captured. I nodded.
I expected this when I heard rumours from my spies, about them bitching about us unfairly ganging on the people of TEN and WoR. But it happens. I shrugged. Derek blinked at me.
Lady Raven? Orders? The plaintive tone of Derek's voice stopped me. After all, hadn't some of our people died for this land?
Very well. We'll fight to keep orange from taking orange-stained land. Deploy troops as you see fit, Commander.
Also, I added, Have the Flying Raven and the others prepare to leave. If things get hectic, hell if I'll be landbound. Derek saluted and rushed off.
Turning to AmirKa, I smirked.
Orange defending orange. Here, the fruit does not fall far from the tree. Please, take Attero to the ship. If he struggles, gut him, I care not.
Stupid heathens. I wanted supper first.
Raven of the Outcasts
[ This Message was edited by: Govan on 2002-08-14 22:42 ]
|Posted: 2002-08-14 22:47  Profile;
Smiling as the carnage began, the young demon, still new to the ways of war waited, and watched with a grin as he saw the heathans slowly at first, but then with growing monentum. Fall.
The screams of the dying exhilirated him and his men, the smell of blood, the bodies that covered the ground almost drove him men into a frenzy, almost. Luitenants and captians were a little to eager to crack the whips at those who started to move out of line. He would have to remember to have a word with them later, he wanted moral high, especially during times of war. But for now, he simply pu the faces of those whipped into his mind, he would appologize for their cruel treatment if they lived this night.
A rain started, a drizzel at first, but then it grew as did the slaughter. Almost laughing, he saw that noe seemed to notice, the frenzy of death. The joy of the killing was to much for them to care about, More than the drops of rain theat cooled the heated bodies encased in the metal that did nothing to cool them, but only make them hotter.
Watching for his signal, it finally came, a great shout went up through his troops, almost deafening to him, who did not know if they were all still eager for the small kills still left. But he was still not ready for that, for now he would wait, and watch, and learn.
Raising his slender sword in the air, he swept it foreward, watching as his men, eager for battle rushed by him, working together to work on a single target at a time, working together to beat the mre powerful, and taking moe land than he had hoped for.
Smiling, he waited for his men to finnish the slaughter, then when they returned to him, they made their way back to their keep for the night, but also ready to be on the move for the next night.
Sanctum Officium - Maxim
Fides - Valid
|Posted: 2002-08-14 23:08  Profile;
Tell me, my friends..I asked my fellow thieves, who were no more my friends than Govan was mine. When the enemy goes to war, what does he leave untended?
The men chuckled as we continued to escort our Arctics to the meeting area. Others had already gone aloft on dragonback and would be dropped near their burn points. By this time tomorrow, the lands of Sanctum Officium would be char pile.
As in Very Big Empty Spaces. With D'lil leading, the troops of the Outcasts would turn each and every enemy into a field with little charry holes in it. And with the drow D'lil leading, I could relax.
Poor Sanctum. Too bad they didn't realize we had goaded them into this war. Free food is always nice.
Quick to rise to the bait of a supposed attack. Perhaps Govan DID show some sneakyness that I did not expect of her. Getting a secret treaty, then dropping that we were going to hit the Sanctum...of course they would hit us back. Nice. Maybe now she actually has earned my admiration...
|Posted: 2002-08-14 23:22  Profile;
No rest for the weary, hmm? Mya said, casting a half-smile at the small shadow of a wolf that crept along at her side. Still in the midst of securing her newly taken lands as her own, and the calls of war had filled the air once again. Not that she wasn't ready... Far from it.
But it seemed that she would continue in a role she had seldom played before, creeping in by night with poisons and torches and blades. But whatever the role, it was the outcome that mattered. She kept this formost in her mind as headed unquestioningly towards enemy territory.
It was the unfamiliarity, she decided, of her present duties, that bothered her most... moreso than the moral issues that had prodded at her conscience through the last campaign. Perhaps more than even that, it was not being in command so much as she once had been... for she had yet to prove herself to her new-found allies... had yet to prove to herself that she was still capable in battle. It had been a rather long time, after all.
She stared into the flames that rose high into the night sky, smoke obsuring the moon partially from view. In the distance, building crumbled, though that was the doing of the priests of the temples of Isoia. But before her, the temples of Darden burned... this was her doing.
A deep satisfaction, quieted the desire for revenge. For the moment.
Devoted to the one... Isonia
"When all is said and done, will you still stand by me?"
|Posted: 2002-08-14 23:28  Profile;
It had been easier than she expected. There had to be a trap of some sort, but she hadn't put her finger on where it was yet. She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully as she stopped at the edge of the town and looked around in bemusement, then turned toward her second in command.
You say they left no one to guard their acquisitions? What they had stolen from Darden, what they unlawfully held-they did not even have the sense to leave a small army to defend? They got on their ships and went home???
Aye, mistress. It would appear that way. The forces we fought to reclaim in the name of our lord were not enough to hold us back. When we tortured information from one of the captured soldiers, he said something about a ship and sailing...
Her eyes narrowed and glittered dangerously, then she laughed before talking low under her breath, as if she didn't mean anyone to hear.
They sailed away. Well, I have no fondness for water. If they want these lands back, then they'll have to fight me on dry ground. I have no interest in their flea ridden ships.
Smirking, she waved the man off to complete his business while she went to talk to some of the newly liberated townspeople. Perhaps if she was lucky, she'd find another heathen to castrate.
Well behaved women rarely make history.
Sing the song of Darden
|Posted: 2002-08-14 23:36  Profile;
The news of the armies of the Sanctum marching against the Outcast’s newly acquired lands came as no surprise what-so ever to the Drow. Govan had already informed him of her scheme to bait SO into the open, and he was ready. Having already laid out a plan of attack, he leapt into action as soon as the first drop of blood was spilt.
Thank goodness the time has come. I have grown tired of waiting around in that blasted keep He grinned. Then in a flash he was off. The speed with which the Drow moved was simply amazing. Not only did he blend into the shadows, he almost became one. Disappearing nearly as quickly as he arrived.
As soon as he left, the others waiting around him shot off as well, having already been given their orders earlier. D’lil Veldrin himself headed straight for the heart of the lands of the Sanctum, his tasking being the only thing upon his mind. Sentry scouts did nothing to delay him. A quick flash of his dark blade and Drow, Citites, and Shakes all fell over dead silently, their throats being cut right out. Entering each city, the drow stealthily and swiftly moved through the shadows, gracefully leaping from rooftop to rooftop, leaving a path of fire behind him. The paths of fire rapidly grew into raging infernos, engulfing the temples to the false god Darden.
Having set one city ablaze and prepared it for Govan’s scorers, the Drow simply made his way to the next, leaving a trail of slaughtered scouts behind him. He had a sly grin upon his face the whole time. This is what he loved. This is what he lived for.
Outcast NobilityWe only come out at night, we only come out at night.
The days are far too bright.
We only come out at night.
|Posted: 2002-08-15 05:44  Profile;
Bansidhe wails filled the air this night, but not for the lost of her people. For the lost of the people of the Outcasts. So much water had run crimson this night from the clothes of the fallen.
Morrigan smiled. And her wails joined the chorus as she removed her hands from within the corpse of her victim. The battlegrounds between the opposing sides lie deep in blood, and through the blood, the dark lady could see in her mind's eye the activity on the field. So much being sacrificed for Darden. He would, indeed, be pleased.
The dark lady swung up onto the back of her destrier, standing patiently nearby. She had decided that this particular enemy camp needed her personal, special attention. As day closed, she had walked into the camp dressed as the enemy and had proceeded to relieve the soldiers and their officers of their hearts, one by one. They were currently burning merrily in the center of the camp as a sacrifice to the God of Despair.
As she began riding back along the fields, observing the fighting, a general brought her a scroll of parchment. She already knew what it would say. Prisoners had been taken by both sides and a parley offer had been tendered by the enemy to trade the captives. She shook her head ruefully.
Write to this Outcast lord that it is my great regret that I cannot accept his offer. It is not the way of things. And then see to the decapitation of the captives and the proper disposal of the heads in the peat bog.
A sliver of despair pierced her heart at the knowledge that the execution of the enemy captives assuredly meant the execution of those of her people who had been taken prisoner. But, she reasoned, it was war. And the pain, any pain, of war was very sweet indeed.
We've been rambling all the night and sometime of this day...
|Posted: 2002-08-15 08:21  Profile;
I stand stock still, arms out to either side, head thrown back as if to look up at the sky. But my empty eye sockets see nothing, the eyes long ago gouged out and given up to Darden. Every exposed inch of my body is scourged by the red sands of my desert home, it purifies and prepares me for the time to come. Only by making myself a worthy vessel for Him, purging all sin from my pathetic flesh, may we conquer in His name, putting right the wrong that was done against Him. The harsh sands in the winds goad tiny droplets of blood to the surface of my skin. They gather, flowing, each becoming greater together than they were alone, till my hands are slick with my own blood.
My precious son, my clever Silus, I say softly, beckoning my beast-like child near. His hot breath touches my face and so I reach out with bloodied hands to caress him. His white fur must have been stained red by the touch of my blood, something of me to carry with him into battle. Darden's blessing shall be upon you my beautiful son, they shall not stand against you when the time comes. The followers of the false one cannot deny His strength, not when you embody all that is glorious in His faith.
I lean forward till my mouth brushes the soft fur of his pricked up ears, whispering, Be the vengeful desert wind my child. He shall not fail me, not my son, my precious, precious child.
The battle ahead will be a difficult one, a trying time of pain and death; Darden will be most pleased. Through the cries of the dying and screams of the tormented His song shall sing clearly in the hearts of all who are true. The agony that shall be unleashed will make a most fit sacrifice to the Lord, and I shall revel in any that is visited upon me. So few realise, simply not understanding the instruction that can be obtained through such sensations. They ignore their pain, trying to push it away, to stem its flow rather than accepting it. The people of this world seek pleasure too regularly, enjoying its fleeting experiences while they flee from its stronger counterpart.
Somewhere out in the lands my Silus tries to teach the heathen of the many ways of pain. I doubt that they shall understand the lesson that is being brought to their borders, they will turn away, thinking themselves greater that it. They will laugh and make false assumptions, perhaps even trusting in their 'Goddess'. The thought brings a smile to my lips as I walk back to the low-lying desert town. Isonia is not worthy of such a title, She is no more than a worm compared to the cowled God and no more worthy of worship than that lowly creature.
I walk back to the red temple, the tallest building in the town even though it is no higher than most simple town-houses in other cities. Nothing is allowed to be built that is higher than this structure, no one may assume themselves greater than the Lord. No heathen can ever touch this central temple, born forth by the earth itself, it shall never be destroyed, not till He wishes it to be so. Kneeling before its closed doors I press my raw flesh to the sandy ground, Darden watch over him, accept the offerings that my Silus sends to You this night. Offerings of life, of pain, of land even, all shall be given unto Him.
I wait before the temple as the hours pass, not moving instead giving all my thoughts to Him and His glory. Not even the foul Isonia sorcery that streaks towards us makes me flinch. The smell of burning and charred flesh only brings a sensation of peace to my mind. It has begun, nothing may change that now, what was forseen shall be no matter whether the outcome be for good or ill.
And if my lands should fall in the battle? So be it, for it is His will and His alone.
Lands mean nothing compared to faith, lands may come and go, stolen and returned as easily as breathing. But my faith in Darden is eternal, I shall never leave the side of the One Lord who rescued me from death in the desert and allowed me to serve Him. No other deity or mortal creature could ever have offered me a gift as wonderous as that given to me by Darden. He allowed me to be His servant, there is no greater gift.
Darden be praised, tonight the lands sing only for you.
Seeing what others deny
Sanctum Officium - Cardinal of Despair
Let your death feed the visions
Maledict's Psychiatrist by special appointment
[ This Message was edited by: Ebony on 2002-08-15 08:22 ]
|Posted: 2002-08-15 09:51  Profile;
The wraith danced across the lands, not aware and yet not totally unaware, it existed and that was enough. It had very little idea of itself, it had no idea if it was male or female, indeed even that concept was beyond its tortured mind. All that it had been in life was gone, swept away and wiped clean, the knowledge of who and what it had been forever denied to it. The wretched spirit had been brought back from the depths of the afterlife to serve His faithful ones.
So cold is it, so very cold, need warmth it does, Ivory's voice whispered on the breeze as it neared the city. Forever suffering the icy chill of death the wraith desired only the warmth of living flesh. With a single touch it could drain the warmth from a living creature and leave only a frozen corpse in its wake. Even as it moved now a moth flew on the night air, wings of deep red and gold. It fluttered and thought only of its simple wants, drawn to the faint glow of the wraith. The moth drew ever nearer, as if daring itself to touch that sickly light. Abruptly Ivory changed direction, the moth passing through its insubstantial form. It hung in the air for a moment after flying through the wraith, held there by shock alone it would seem. Then it fell to the ground, wings still out-stretched, all heat gone from its tiny body.
And Ivory moved on unaware, the little life held no meaning for it, the heat barely making an impression on the cold that it was wrapped in.
The Isonian city rose up in the distant, and if Ivory had been alive perhaps it would have been impressed by the sight. But such scenes no longer meant anything to it, this was merely where it had been told to go. Yes, it sang in an almost child-like voice, Mistress tell it to go here. Tell Ivory to meet the people, to hold them close to it. Ivory cold now but soon be warm again, Mistress says so. Master doesn't mind if it takes these ones, only the other ones, can't touch them, must let them keep their warmth. But these ones, these ones, it sighed in thought of such heat being its again.
Ivory won't be cold again, it thrilled at the idea that life would be its once more. But it didn't matter how much heat that the wraith stole from the living, death had claimed it long ago and there was no returning from such an eternal grasp. Not that the ghost knew it, it still believed that if it took enough heat, enough life, then it would not longer be cold, it would live once more. That was what kept Ivory on its leash, that and the pain that Darden would visit upon it if it dared to go against Him.
The fog that the city's sorcerers had called by masked Ivory's arrival, it was no more than a half-glimpsed image in the eyes of the tired guards. They ignored it, mistaking its gossamer-fine form as no more than a dream. After all who would be foolish enough to walk alone into the city? What manner of foe could walk through the walls with barely a trace? Later, later they would realise what it was that had passed through their midst, leaving only death in its wake.
It passed into houses and hovels alike, embracing those within till they had no more heat to give to it. When all were dead and no more than frozen corpses in their beds Ivory's mournful cry could be heard in the empty streets and alleyways. It is still cold, it needs to be made warm, just a little heat, a little life. No more left here, but Ivory wants more, give it to Ivory, give it. The wraith's voice rose to a shrill shriek but there was no more life left here.
Sing a song of Darden
I'm playing all the right notes...
...Just not necessarily in the right order
|Posted: 2002-08-15 10:37  Profile;
"Our lord will lure those Darden bastards right to us" Theodus joked as the other workers lounged around the camp fire tired from days of building.
*Laughter from the other workers*
"I'd love to get my hands on one of them, teach them a thing or two about fighting" Theodus says picking up a burning stick from the fire swinging it around his head in mock combat.
*More laughter from his fellow workers*
Theodus bows, "Thank you, thank you. I'll be back guys. All this fighting's made me have to shite." Dropping his stick into the fire he walked away for some privacy.
*more laughter followed Theodus into the dark woods.
In the surounding darkness, the Darken Sareth Trilyare watched and listened. Since he'd been brought unto darkness many changes had come over him. His heart no long beat, his flesh had begun to wither, but the power... even now he could feel it building in him, he was like a child learning each day what his dark gift would bring.
Theodus, laughed to himself as his choose an appropriate spot for his movement. Dropping his pants he sqwatted down, "Rrrhhhhhuh! Stupid Dardenites. Rrrrrrhhhhuh! When they come we'll..."
He didn't need to use any of his new powers on this one, before his birth into darkness Sareth was arguably the best elven thief in his lands. Moving silently up, behind and to the right of the man he quickly slipped his withered hand over the mans mouth and gave him a grin from ear to ear. A grin which started just before his jugular, opened his trachea wide, and found it's end just past the other side. Twin jets of crimson gore sprayed forth into the darkness, a slight whistling and gurgling came from his exposed larnyx.
"You'll what??? Get caught with your pants down, taking a crap." he whispered to the corpse which he gently laid down in a pile of it's own feces. A few twitches and a last slow sigh was all the response he got.
Wiping his blacken blade he moved off into the darkness, returning to his master The Shadow Lord, to inform him the enemy was unprepared and he could begin his assault.
[ This Message was edited by: Sareth Trilyare on 2002-08-15 10:47 ]
|Posted: 2002-08-15 11:51  Profile;
She took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of destruction, then chuckled. The man on her right, grimaced and ran a grimy hand through his soot blackened locks.
I don't understand, mistress. Why destroy the lands after we liberate them? How does that possibly benefit us?
Turning toward him, she looked over his frame slowly. Methodically. He was one of her best generals, so she would let his question of her orders go unpunished. Mostly. She narrowed her eyes and gave him a thin smile- a smile meant to warn him that he should question her no further. Then she answered.
We destroy the land we reclaim in Darden's name. Better his subjects become refugees in our lands and the liberated land be inhospitable to any who attempt to reclaim it, than to allow any of the precious soil that belongs to him be used by heathen vermin.
She spat on the ground then looked at the desolation that was once a thriving village. The inhabitants slowly moving deeper into Darden territory where they would be given shelter.
I would rather destroy every bit of land and live a refugee myself than to see Isonian whores enjoy it.
Well behaved women rarely make history.
Sing the song of Darden
[ This Message was edited by: Praya on 2002-08-15 11:53 ]
|Posted: 2002-08-15 11:59  Profile;
The time was nearing as the darkling horde found their way under the waters of night thru the passages on the underdark. All that was visible was a mass of shadows tempered with gleaming teeth and claw. The silence was deafening, with skill and stealth made their way to the surface near the heathen kingdoms. They could sense the aroma of man flesh their mouths dripped with yearning to rip their heathen flesh apart devouring it. For they were prey to them. But they waited behind rocks and in crevices they watched and listened to the distant bantering of tower guards. Darkling leader motioned for his scouts to come forth. Quickly the scouts scurried to him, quietly with a chattering voice for the commands of the Wandering Shadow.
Darkling looked upon them. His voice chattering with news and orders from there Shadowed Lord.
The Lord spoke to this one. The time is near, So go scouts and search the heathen kingdom. Report quickly for the horde hungers.
Aye M’lord his bidding shall be done.
Quickly they moved out and scurry the borders of the kingdom and report their weakness. Their eyes large and black pierced the night like glowing lanterns, seeing all hearing all. The stalked the edges testing quietly the defenses, stopping quickly when guards were near waiting till they past. The deed done they scurried back to darkness and spoke their reports. The ever seeing and listen Wandering Shadow heard there words and spoke with the Darkling leader. The plan made the attack ready all that was yet to come was the appointed hour.
They waited patiently as predators in the bush, watching listening. Till with in Darkling’s mind a echo formed.
War has come the time is here, feed my Darklings feed and destroy. I desire utter desecration of their homes. Strike NOW!
The echo filled Darkling’s mind with a hunger of hell. As He stood his claws clenching to his dark flesh. A chattering command, in seconds the mouth of the cavern was coated in a mass of shadows flooding into the open, darkness with highlights of gleaming claw and tooth. Moved toward the kingdom to the horror of the wall guards. The weakness were found and exploited as they pushed thru quickly. The fighting was bloody and fierce the heathen’s were great warriors but they never dealt with such a thing as they faced now. The darkling horde clawed and chewed their way thru the ranks killing and maiming man woman and child. Their teeth chattered as they attack bits of flesh hung from the teeth and claw as they advanced. The screams and war cries mixed. Till the only things heard were the crunching of gnawed bones and the guttural agony of devoured corps.
Hell had come this night.
Hellspawn and servant of the Wandering Shadow
Night comes to us all.Question is Will the dawning?
~Good and Evil is only perception~
[ This Message was edited by: Darkling on 2002-08-15 12:00 ]
|Posted: 2002-08-15 12:30  Profile;
Mother's blood still paints my muzzle, its sweet scent reminding me that she is with us in spirit. She trusts me to lead our forces onto the battlefield while she remains in the desert town. And I will not fail her or Lord Darden, I shall slay the heathens to please them both. The waters of these lands shall run as red as if they were filled with the sands of home. And with each and every slice of flesh I shall praise Him and pray that He keeps Mother safe. Nothing is more precious to me than her and while I still draw breath none shall ever harm her.
With a gesture of my paw I summon the rest of the troops forward to the ridge above the heathen city. Down below they are praying to their false Goddess in temples that are abominations to the Lord. In His name they shall be destroyed, all shall be swept away in a tide of claws and steel. To the north and south our allies gather, waiting and watching. Like wolves circling about an unaware deer, we pick our moment of attack carefully. The blood to come almost seems to be upon the air already, calling to us to free it from its fleshy bonds. I'll answer that call and the blood of the heretic will flow freely onto His lands.
My pure white fur seems to almost shine under the dim moonlight, no use for sneak attacks but on the battlefield I'll blaze like a beacon to our forces. The soldiers from the red sands loyal to the true Lord will follow me, knowing that I shall lead them deep into the heart of the heathens. None will stand for long against those who have been blessed with His strength.
My eyes prick up, catching the first sounds of the battle being joined, the sound a sweet song to me. Grinning beastially, jagged fangs showing, I start to lead my Mother's forces down towards the city. It's defenders are too busy worrying about the other attacks to notice us till the last moment. A single guard looks down over the lands, his eyes meeting mine for the briefest second. Fear burns in his eyes, a cold sweat beading on his forehead, he knows that death comes for him this night.
I roar out to the heavens, the sound coming from deep within my chest, echoing through the city before us, sending shivers down the spines of those that hear it. Leaping and bounding I make for the first line of defense, the others not far behind me. But I am determined that the first blood drawn by Mother's forces shall be mine. I shall lead by example, soaking myself in the blood of the Isonian damned. Their time upon these lands is limited, soon they shall know Darden's judgement upon their souls.
I pray that Darden is not merciful.
A heretic soldier appears before me, causing me to rear up on my hind legs, standing as a man and not a monster. One heavy paw swipes at his head, crushing the thin metal that once passed for his helm. His eyes go dark, his spirit sent to the afterlife where he shall realise the mistake of following the bitch Goddess. Isonia cares not for Her flock, my devotion is to the Lord of demons alone. The defender crumples to his knees like a child's puppet whose strings have been cut. His sword clangs dully against his armour, blood dripping down from his head to paint it a more suitable colour.
I lose myself in the heat of battle, men falling beneath my claws and teeth, what need have I of swords when Darden Himself has given me more permanent weapons? Men are dying all about me, those of the faithful and heathen force alike, But slowly we are suceeding, pushing them back one by one as the ground below become slick with blood and the meaner fluids of mortal cretures. The claws on my feet dig in deep to help me keep my balance, ripping at flesh and hearing the crack of bone of those that dare to come near me.
A touch at my right arm makes me turn suddenly, ready to strike and only just preventing myself as I recognise the man. M'Lord Silus, this battle is over, the heathens pushed back further than we could have imagined. The men are tired and must retire from the field but, Darden be praised, He was with us.
Slowly I draw breath, casting a baneful stare across the way at the last remaining defenders as they cower. Be thankful, He has spared you this day remember that, it was not your 'Goddess' that protected your miserable lives, I roar at them. Darden wills it otherwise and so shall it be.
We have gained much M'Lord-
I silence him, cutting through his words, Salt it all and offer it to the Lord. We have no need to annex this land, it is no part of the red desert and shall never be so. It has been polluted by the worship of the false one and shall be destroyed as punishment for it. Slay all the peasants, they shall never know His song, and use their blood to mix with the salt, it shall be a fit offering for Him. We must please the Lord if He is to carry us forward so sacrifice all the land we have gained and more. Better that the Lord have it than the Isonians try to take it back. It matters not what we lose for this is a war of instruction.
I lope slowly away, back to the beach-head where the others shall re-group, Your lessons shall be learned well by all Lord.
Beast of Darden, Child of Ebony
I don't do this because I hate you, but rather because He loves you
|Posted: 2002-08-15 13:15  Profile;
The night had come and with it the song of Darden that was shrouded from his soul for so long. He yearned to hear more with each note his soul strengthened from the cage Isonia had made for him. The ages of her will clouding his memories and heart. Keeping him from what he truly was Spawn of hell. But no more with the help of his new guild mates of SO and the grace of Darden he has come back walking thru the shrouded portal unto his new home a place he only found with his dreams. But now his anger grew of what had been done to him. The cage he was kept in for so long.
ShadoWander was filled with rage a hunger deep with in him for revenge. But the song tempered his sword. For Darden had plans for So and ShadowWander to find and destroy the guild of the heathen Outcast Nobility. To pick their bones and take their souls. To teach a lesson of chaos. For this ShadowWander was more than happy to do. His Darklings were already striking. Lifting the flesh from the heathen corpses, feeding on decaying flesh and drinking of heathen blood. Darden had filled ShadowWander’s soul with his song, and with this song he will lay waste to them, ripping flesh to a rhythm in his mind.
ShadowWander stepped to the shadows, moments later stepping out and in to the caverns from which his darkling hordes laid waste to the heathen kingdom. He could smell death upon the air. The darklings bowed to him as he moved out of the cavern to the night sky, with a motion of his hand and the calling of his will. He summoned his Darkling generals to him.
ShaodwWander’s eyes flamed with wisps of shadowed flames, as he gazed at his generals.
My Darklings you have done well but much is still to come. Split the hordes the raiders to the hills of the east, and have them watch for travelling caravans of heathens and reinforcements.
The warrior hordes to the caverns let them rest and feed upon the corpses but only a few hours for Darden demands more of us.
We march soon to bring his rhythm of chaos to all heathens so they may no his grace.
So go now you have your tasks.
An Praise Darden for He has graced us all this night.
With those words the Darkling generals bowed and parted as they cried out Darden’s praise and sang a song of chaos and destruction.
~Wandering Shadow of Darden~
S a n c t u m ~ O f f i c i u m
Scream, Scream louder Heathen! You’re agony is a symphony to my ears
[ This Message was edited by: Shadowwander on 2002-08-15 13:23 ]
|Posted: 2002-08-15 13:16  Profile;
The sounds of laughter could be heard from deep within the manor which was carved into the side of the mountain. The shadowy figure approached silently on horse back. He pulled his steed up on the outside of the larde stone archway which led inot the greathall of the manor.
Dismounting, he walked briskly up the stairs and through the doorway. The armed guards bowed, faces to the ground as he threw the hood from his head. He flashed them a toothy grin as he made his entrance.
In a cavern emaculately decorated with Shields and Swords and crests, and which lay off the right side of the great hall which was the largest opening in the manor, the laughter could be heard.
Vincent quickly made his way into the chamber. As he did the laughter stopped. And all eyes turned to their master.
The vampiric elf who was sitting at the head of the table greeted him as all in the room left their seats and gave him a deep bow.
Rise, all of you! He said as he walked to the table to look at all of his chief advisors who were oh so pleased with themselves. You all are obviously so happy. I must admit that the army of elves and vampire elves which you used to take those new lands was more impressive than the horde of shit which you provided me in our stuning losses suffered to WoR and Ten.
Here we have another issue pressing us. We have fought valliantly and bravely and more than doubled our holdings here on the mainland. However before this war we were banished to all but our holdings in the island.
His gaze was sobering, and he was mor fluent than ever before. He looked each in the eyes. He was indeed proud of his warriors which had made great advancements in this retalliation to regain some holdings for his lands, but they were now engaged in battle with the sanctum. And he had other interests here. All in all his search for his son for all these years had yielded rumors that those in the sanctum knew of Quedesh Verez, his son. He was aware that perhaps he was even with them at this hour.
I should have known that I'd find you here at your mannor Tallgore. You and your piss ant social generals. But alas the fact that you've served me well is your saving grace.
I suggest that you put aside your maps and scrolls. set aside your plans for now. I am embarking on a journey of personal interests. I will stop first to meet bluril, who will likely accompany me. Then I shall inform Govan of my travel. When I return I wish to have a realm to come back to!
He then slammed his fist on the table, and toungued his fangs with a wide grin. Now off your asses! There is war to be fought here. I suggest that you lead it.
Some times the only thing worse than death...
[ This Message was edited by: Vincent Verez on 2002-08-15 13:22 ]
|Posted: 2002-08-15 17:13  Profile;
My Lady Raven, said Derek, bowing before me, Teh attacks have all but stopped! Sanctum Officium is dead in the water. I nodded calmly, expecting this news. However, Derek blinked in confusion.
Forgive my insolence, Lady, but how is this possible? We have not made any denting attacks... I abandoned the paper I had been writing on, and leaned forward and regarded Derek quietly.
Battles have been fought, Derek, just not the type the Knights would be interested in. Derek frowned, and I gestured to the empty chair in front of me. He sat, and I smiled at him.
The Knights have it so easy, Derek. At times I envy you. Your Order is what I desire, what I would want everything to be. Honourable, strong, noble. But as a leader, I can't be that way. I need to be a deceiver, I need to know when to abandon honour as extra weight. I know when I've been kicked in the balls, so to speak, I need to bite and claw. I sighed, leaning back in my chair.
We've sent the thieves by dragons to burn. D'Lil leads them, showing them what to burn. They're mostly focusing on temples, though.
Now, the spiritual advisors I trust so far are imploring Isonia to aid us, and they tear at the enemy.
The reasons why the attacks have all but stopped is because the Sanctum can't support their troops. Supply lines will collapse, and the people in the realms are dying while they are off fighting. I saw the look on Derek's face and leaned forward to grab him by the shoulder.
Do not worry, friend. When they withdraw, troops will die on the return, will desert...and you will liberate the poor heathens.
Have peace, friend. We had no choice. They came to us.
Raven of the Outcasts
The Real and Original Raven
|Posted: 2002-08-15 17:23  Profile;
As they walked to find Govan, the brothers were passed by a speedily walking knight. They heard news of war. Looked at one another.
It wasn't news that pleased them, one war in such a short time span was more than enough for them, and now there was another. There would be little chance of them making it back to their own territories without a heavy guard, one which they did not have with them. They would have to leave imidiate matters in the hands of their generals, whom were fortunately quite capable.
They picked up there pace to catch Govan. Coming up from behind her, they called to her.
"Raven Vran... Might we get passage on your ship, return to Erindale would be quite difficult now we fear."
Guilden and Rosen Woodson
Sons of Mantella Woodson
Rulers of Erindale
|Posted: 2002-08-15 18:49  Profile;
So much had happened. At least they hadn't attacked Sci.
AmirKa roughly pulled Lord Attero in tow as he stepped over a small outcropping of rocks, his eyes on the lookout. Although the first strike by Sanctum Officium was fierce, they had regrouped quickly, and as of yet, attacks were slowing. His mind reeled, he had to get this heathen below decks, and then get back to Govan and the stronghold to plan countermeasures.
"You better be worth this, Attero," he muttered, pushing the heathen up the ramp to the ship in front of him. "I have infinitely more important things to do than to cater to you." He hurried down a hallway, bustling past soldiers and knights, finally reaching his destination. He looked frantically for a member of his squad, he would trust no one less in guarding the prisoner. The door he was at didn't lock; Attero would have to be under constant guard.
The only soldiers nearby were just Knights; not of AmirKa's squad. He almost kicked the wall in frustration, but he quickly latched onto calm. They were Outcast Knights, they should be able to perform simple guard duty. He shouted to them.
"You two! Get over here!" They recognized his face and hurried to him. "I want this prisoner under constant guard. If he escapes, so help me Isonia, I will have both of you fed to the fish. Or Dardenties. Or...or someone!" He wasn't very good at threats. With a sense of urgency weighing down on him, he left Attero with the two in the room, and quickly started back to Govan to help with the counter-attack.
Something's better on the other side...
|Posted: 2002-08-15 21:28  Profile;
As night fell, I was grateful for the respite. Messengers had been sent to the Sanctum, letting them know we would answer any parlay for peace. We were, of course, amenable.
I stood, gesturing for my guards to leave. I was tired, and a suite of rooms belonging to baron of the keep had been prepared for me. Sleep sounded like a blessing.
I stalked out of the hall quickly, moving through the hall quickly. Guards lined it at regular paces and I offered each man and woman a good word. They smiled for it, and even though they tried not to show it, it moved them greatly.
She found the double doors and palmed them open, striding into the rooms. Lush silks and velvets covered the walls, the chairs, everything. Govan smiled absently - beautiful colours, though she would never treat herself this well.
Sliding into the bed chambers, she was glad to see the excesses of the previous owners had been removed. Yawning, she collapsed onto the bed, glad it was soft. She trusted her knights to make sure no one was within, and closed her eyes. Sleep would be a good thing right now...
Raven of the Outcasts
The Real and Original Raven