"What I want is revenge. What I need are companions, and you two see more than fit."
The shadowy figure became more visible as they walked on. After a minute or two, they could see the shape of a man. The grass they walked on was dry and crunched under their feet.
"This is impossible! This place has had plenty of rain!"
They continued to walk, and when they finally approached the figure, they were astonished at what they saw. The man had obvious signs of distress and his clothes were those of peasants. His skin was wrinkled, but his eyes told a different, younger age. His voice. which once boomed in the distance, rolled off his tongue in such eloquence that he would be mistaken as royalty given he was in better condition.
"I'm surprised that you didn't run away like the last troupe of soldiers that encountered me. I am Azriel, son of the god who gave me that name. He sent an angel to free me from my prison... he will join us later if time permits."
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I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
"What I want is revenge. What I need are companions, and you two see more than fit. I'm surprised that you didn't run away like the last troupe of soldiers that encountered me. I am Azriel, son of the god who gave me that name. He sent an angel to free me from my prison... he will join us later if time permits." Said the man as they approached. Dagon found him... out of place enough to be believable. Yet, he still looked at the man with suspicion. What the hell is the son of an angel doing here...
Dagon chuckled to himself, suddenly realizing that he himself, the son of a demon, was proof that such odd things could come to pass.
"Well... I find myself reluctant to accept help from one such as yourself, but, we need all the help we can get. Sounds to me you want revenge on the same man we're going after, so, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, I guess."
Dagon held his hand out to shake the man's hand.
"Welcome aboard then, we're on our way to liberate the town of Olenta from demons, we'll need your help if you plan on getting revenge."
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"One in every 10 million people can potentially have a headache from this pill." God forbid she is the 0.000000001% of having a headache.
Borin watched as Dagon approached the man in the distance. Borin stayed back as he clearly saw the man's face. The man looked tattered and old but Borin could tell there was something different about this man.
From the distance, Borin could hear Dagon say "Welcome aboard then, we're on our way to liberate the town of Olenta from demons, we'll need your help if you plan on getting revenge."
With this new man an official member of their rag-tag group. Feeling safer, he approached the rest of the group and welcomed the new traveler.
"Hello, my name is Borin" He told the man as they continued their march towards Olenta
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Jerfuth had transformed into hawk and had perched himself atop the cover of the wagon that followed the others down their path. He made the understanding that they were travelling to Olenta to fight to regain control of the town from more demoms that had overrun it. Jerfuth pushed himself off of the cart and flapped his wings hard, thrusting himslef into the canopy of the forest. The thundering clouds ahead told him he should investigate. He flew ahead, but could not make it to far into the storm as it was not natural.
He quickly flew back to the cart to warn the others of the news ahead of them, but realized that Dagon and Seddrik had already made their way up to a shadowly man, quickly followed by Borin. Jerfuth swooped down to the ground, transforming back into a human with an elegant flip.
"There a mystical storm ahead," Jerfuth yelled in the prescene of the man, turning to him as well, "I am called Jerfuth, druid of the Singram Tribe."
"Crazed lunatics and their even crazier stories." Wulfgar thought. "Still, I've heard worse."
Wulfgar listened to the man speak, but remained some what skeptic, but did not show any signs of it.
"Well at least it should prove to be more entertaining that fighting in the pits."
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-Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only, truth.
Ja'quar sat in the cart and looked at his hand. The healer had done a nice job patching his hand, it was as useful as it had ever been. They went to Olenta, he and his new companions, where they would assault a fallen camp. It was an odd thing for him, but he would get paid so that didn't matter. Also, darkness was his ally, as it had been for a long time.
The sky somehow seemed disturbed. Ja'quar stood up and looked in front of their path: the storm was malevolent. A flash of lightning bolted down and the clap that followed made him feel rather uneasy.
A man's voice bellowed, but Seddrik and Dagon did not seem alarmed. Instead, they willingly walked towards its source: a shadowy figure on top of a hill. Even though this had to be a trap, the two brave men did not budge from their course. Either that, or they were entranced. Or just plain nuts.
The man began to tell a tale of being the son of an angel. Also, he was trapped and wanted revenge. Well, whatever it was, this man seemed both extremely dangerous and ridiculously weak. Ja'quar assumed the first, for underestimating anything is the same as inviting death into your home. He had forgotten that when he stormed out of the bar earlier today.
The man was greeted by everyone and not to be left behind Ja'quar said, "Greetings stranger. Your strength seems formidable and your goal brave. I'm Ja'quar." Once again, making every statement a bit more flattering seemed all too easy.
The journey to Olenta was hard, but Vaker was very exited, since he met this men his powers seemd to improve and he felt more confident about himself now... The storm in the distance was an omen of the battles to come, and it seemed that the High Heavens were fighting their own in their very gates...
"Hear ye, children of Abbadon!" Vaker heard a figure yell, Seddrik and Dagon aproached towards the figure and talked to him... adter a moment this man was a new member of the party...
"I'm Vaker friend, good to have new companions" Vaker said, but as the words came out from his mouth his face was clouded with a shadow of fear and surprise, as the grass the man standed on died inmediatly...
"Well, a time witch that can't remember her past and a necromancer who can't keep his power inside himself, this is getting odd" he thought...
She rode with the group without saying a word. She knew that something important was coming, but wouldn't dream yet. She felt safe with her companions.
The storm appeared in the horizon and she knew that her predictions were to become true. Two tears fell down her face. She always senced that power.
Suddenly they all stopped. They found a new company. She didn't know him. Something had changed. He was strange, but he wasn't evil. She thought: "I hope he can help us."
Suddenly, her eyes saw the whiteness, felt filthy flies flying around ... she shouted, "evil is coming" and then fainted.
Azriel heard the call over the hills, and the call quickly turned to shrieking in his ears. He cupped his hands over his ears, but the shrieking turned to whining and whining to buzzing. He cried out in agony as he looked at his bloody hands; his ears had been ruptured by the call.
'It's not! It's not, I WON'T BELIEVE IT!"
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I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
Even though it was a moment of respite, their target of Olenta was still ahead. Fallen aren't the most intimidating of demons, yet Ja'quar was uneasy with the idea of attacking an encampment full of these creatures. He walked towards Dagon to express his concern, "Dear leader. You know, I'm not entirely sure about this brunt attack. Well, not for me that is. I think I can help you more when..."
Suddenly there was a yell from the time witch. Ja'quar looked around and pondered her cry, "Evil? Here? Odd beasts indeed."
He then turned back towards Dagon and hastily finnished his sentence, "...when I trap the ones fleeing the scene. Just send a small party to the forests between Olenta and Melayu, it'll be fun."
Then the so-called angel seemed in pain. He screamed and his hands bled. "This seems serious," Ja'quar said to no one in particular.
"Hell, it is about time." Wulfgar thought. "These men look like they are in dire need of a good fight all this walking is making us antsy."
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"evil is coming" shouted their new companion, she fainted soon after. This greatly disturbed Dagon, as this witch was obviously very powerful, who else could literally stop the flow of time.
"Dear leader. You know, I'm not entirely sure about this brunt attack. Well, not for me that is. I think I can help you more when..."
Ja'quar was cut off mid sentence, as Azriel's ear ruptured, and poured blood onto his hands. He stood there in disbelief, screaming.
What the fuck is coming... Dagon thought to himself, what could cause this much dismay and disorder among the group.
"...when I trap the ones fleeing the scene. Just send a small party to the forests between Olenta and Melayu, it'll be fun." "Anyway Dagon, what say ye?" finished Ja'quar.
"Well have to see what happens as we get closer, I'm expecting for us to arrive in the midst of battle, the Fallen should still be outside the town walls, as long as we can flank one of their battle camps, we'll be fine. But, if you want to try to execute this plan near the edge of one of the camps, it'll work just as well." Dagon said, not wanting to spread the group out too far.
The soldiers nearby stood on guard, the shrieking coming from the west, near the town of Olenta. They marched closer and closer to the town, and saw nothing. The walls were unmanned, the fields were clean, nobody was in sight. They reached the gates, hesitant to open them, Dagon took a moment to prepare himself for whatever may lie within the castle walls.
He took a deep breath, and threw open the town gates. He was greeted corpses, near endless corpses strewn about the street. Fallen warriors were feasting on the bodies, indulging in the spoils of war. They paused and looked up as the group entered the town, they howled, and charged the warriors.
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"One in every 10 million people can potentially have a headache from this pill." God forbid she is the 0.000000001% of having a headache.
"Evil is coming" the witch cried, and fainted. Vaker, who was nearby, came over to prevent her to fall off the horse, when he managed to accommodate her he guided the horse.
Azriel's ears started to bleed 'It's not! It's not, I WILL NOT BELIEVE IT! "He shouted. Vaker was more nervous than he would have liked to show.
Ja'quar and Dagon spoke some words that he could not hear, but noted that they were planning something ...
Slowly they approached the gates of Olenta was a sickening smell filled his lungs and an electrical sensation gripped his nerves. Vaker remained behind the group, caring for the witch who seemed lost in a pleasant but troubled sleep ...
"What could that Evil be?" he asked. But his question was not heard because in that intstante Dagon was opening the doors. The vision of the slaughter was shot to fire in Vaker's eyes, the Fallen eating the human carrion, they looked up towards the group and charged at them. "This will not be so easy"he said, and a fire rained on the little devils. The storm raged in the sky throwing lightning towards the group, as if heaven itself was against them. "What the hell is this?" Vaker cried, he was scared, but he could not afford his nerves get uncontrolled, then he realized what was happening ...
He looked at the witch, made sure she were securely fastened to the horse and closed his eyes. When he opened little sparks flew between his fingers, smiled and sent a deadly lightning charge against some of the demons who came running to them...
The voices of all of the people around him began to overwhelm him. His brother swiftly flung open the gates of Olenta, and almost immediately a stench of death and rotting flesh filled the air. Drangar covered his face with an arm in a futile attempt to shield the nauseating smell. He finally looked up and saw the inside of the town. "Holy shit.." He whispered. The town was nothing but an endless sea of organs and mutilated corpses. He heard a yell and saw a troop of Fallen warriors charging towards them with speed that only a demon could move with.
"DIE YOU BASTARDS!!!"
As they reached the desolate outskirts of Olenta, Ja'quar could only think of one thing, "Blergh, now I have to enter the city once again and fight there. Stay calm, don't get to ballsy."
The doors were opened and in front of them was a sea of bodies. Human remnants with horror-struck faces huddled in piles. An exquisite banquet for the fallen, or a playground for a necromancer. As soon as fallen charged the group entering the city, Ja'quar dashed away from the brawl. He had to find the poor man's district. The tight alleyways would be perfect for ambushes.
At last he found one that suited his taste; with bodies aplenty it would be almost too easy. He reanimated as many as possible, but ordered them to keep lying still all across the alley. Ja'quar then went out to find danger. He would be the bait, and the dead would be the trap. Once again, a sly smile of irony enveloped his lips.
The fallen he found did not need much encouragement. They snarled and raged as each of them wanted the honour of eviscerating the still living human. They ran through the streets of Olenta, not knowing the danger that laid ahead. The human stopped, perhaps he knew it was futile, but suddenly the bodies around them started to move. Limbs stirred and heads twisted. Hands grabbed arms and mouths gnawed on ankles. This man had trapped them! They were fighting for their lives, but now it was them who realized it was futile. The last vision they had was that of a small human, watching them cold eyed and smiling.
Borin stood there in front of the gruesome massacre that lay before him. He stared down the hideous beasts that stood over their victims. Their mouths dripped with human blood and he could even see flesh stuck in their claw like teeth. The foul beasts made their charge towards their next victims.
As the beasts approached, Borin watched as an icy aura surrounded his body. "Frozen armor! If you happen to get strucked, frozen armor will freeze the enemy!" He heard Seddrik explaining to the group.
Borin made his way to the right, separating himself from the rest of the group. He knew that his skills were much more useful away from the horde. He found himself aside a large building. Borin quickly glanced in through the broken window to see only more slain by the claws of these vial demons.
Borin readied his bow and found his target, a large grouping of the beasts. Borin could tell that their numbers were their strength. He pulled out an arrow from the quiver strapped on his back. As he placed the arrow on his bow, the tip of the arrow burst into a flame. Borin shot the arrow up high into the air. As the arrow streaked through the air, it came plunging down and hit the ground near the cluster of demons. The arrow's fire spread out from the wooden stick and created a large pool of fire on the ground. The monsters were forced to flee from the spot causing them to separate. Borin quickly littered the air with more of these arrows forming large areas burning.
Once the group has scattered, Borin began his work of picking them off, one by one. He remembered the words of his Amazonian Mother " Its not speed, its accuracy".
Borin thought of these words as he aimed each shot. The first arrow left his bow and streaked across the street. Landing in the beast's chest did little to stop these creatures.
"These are some tough demons" Borin thought to himself. Just as he prepared for another shot, he heard the snarling of a beast behind him. Before he could even turn around to face the creature, he heard a crackling sound. After turning around he saw the beast frozen in mid action with his club inches from Borin.
"I'll have to remember to thank Seddrick for the protection." Borin raised his foot and kicked the statuesque shape. Pieces broke apart falling to the ground only to shatter more.
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Dagon gripped his longsword with both hands, and braced his gauntleted arm to take the brunt of the oncoming charge. The fallen came closer, but were stopped in their tracks by Vakar. A firestorm rained down upon them, cooking their flesh and sending the imps scurrying away. Flaming rocks plummeted to the ground, sending several of the imps flying into buildings, dead. Ja'quar ran off in the chaos, Dagon hoped his trap would be set.
Unphased, the imps behind them vaulted over the charred corpses of their comrades and pressed the charge. Dagon felt a sudden chill rush around him as Seddrick chanted a spell. Distracted, Dagon did not notice one of the fallen reach him and strike a blow. It froze solid where it stood. Dagon lashed out with a kick, and shattered the imp.
"Thanks Seddrick!" Dagon yelled as he kept his gaze forward, not wanting a repeat of that incident. Dagon threw himself at the nearest fallen, just as it leaped at him. The force of his metal clad arm sent the fallen sprawling, just as an arrow pierced it's chest.
He rushed forwards, slicing through the gut of the nearest fallen, Spilling its entrails across the street. Several imps ran off into an alleyway, only to be met by a horde of undead. Their screams pierced the air, unnerving the rest of their comrades. Dagon used this to his advantage, he pressed forwards, parrying a club, and kicking out the legs of the Fallen who attacked him. He drove his blade down into the chest of the warrior, snuffing out his life.
The rest of the imps lay dead, or dying, as Dagons comrades mopped up the rest of the opposition. Once the streets lay silent, Dagon had to formulate a plan.
"Well... looks like this won't be going as we had planned." he said, "the two places we should check for survivors would be the church, and the castle keep. We'll make our way to the church first, leave half of the soldiers we brought with any survivors, and then take any able bodied citizens to check the castle." Dagon said, impressed with his split second planning.
He pointed at the group of soldiers that would be guarding the church, if they found any survivors. They nodded, and prepared for the march to the church.
"Be on your guard, there will no doubt be more Fallen in the streets."
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"One in every 10 million people can potentially have a headache from this pill." God forbid she is the 0.000000001% of having a headache.
"Be on your guard, there will no doubt be more fallen in the streets!"
Just as Dagon uttered these words a wounded fallen rushed towards the back of Dagon, shoulder ramming him into the ground. Dagon lay beneath him in shock, the Fallen began to draw his blade and raise it over his head.
Drangar reached for his throwing knife stored in his ankle, throwing in straight towards the Fallen. The knife connected in the Fallen's shoulder, temporarily stunning it. "AAAARRRRRRGGG!" Drangar charged toward the beast feeling more hate than he has ever felt before. With almost inhuman swiftness Drangar plunged the two hidden blades into the chest and stomach of the beast, lifted it over his head and ripped the helpless creature in half. He removed the Fallen from his blade and help his brother up.
"Nobody fucks with my family." He said as he offered his hand to his brother,
Ja'quar found another troop walking down the street searching for survivors. They spotted him, and off they went. As he turned around to run, he heard an odd sound. it was a sort of roar and when he looked around he saw a fireball flying straight towards him. He dropped down and felt the flames licking his back, and was relieved that he had evaded sudden injury.
He got up to look at his assailant. The charging fallen had separated and stood still on the sides of the road. On the other end of the walkway there was a fallen leaning on a stick; a shaman. The demon looked a bit older and a lot wiser than the rest of his kin, and he enjoyed their respect.
Ja'quar wanted to walk away, but whenever he would put a step back the shaman held his staff forward and fire started to form at its tip, ready to explode in his direction. He was trapped, but still the simple imps did not advance into his direction. Only the shaman got closer and drew his blade. He pointed with it towards Ja'quar sheath, commanding him to do the same. Ja'quar obliged.
The shaman dropped his staff and snarled some orders to the simpletons, who promptly formed a ring around the two mages. It was at that moment that it dawned to Ja'quar what was happening; "A duel...", he said and couldn't help but smile. The shaman snickered with him.
Suddenly the little upstart charged; now it was serious! The fallen had caught the trapper by surprise and left a nasty gash in his left arm. They ended with their backs towards each other, but the swampdweller was the first one to take advantage of the situation by creating a nasty wound across the elder's back.
The shaman turned around and they looked each other in the eye. Ja'quar saw the proverbial fire building up in his nemesis' eyes, one that seemed to have died out ages ago. The red-skinned demon charged once more, but this time Ja'quar was less surprised. He acted as if he was, resulting in a second gash to accompany his first one, but this time he turned around more swiftly and planted his dagger deep in the shaman's shoulder.
The fallen screamed of agony, rage and delight as his blade fell from his grip. Ja'quar kicked it away and looked into the fallen's eyes, trying to discern his train of thought. He didn't know what went on in that head of his, but it didn't matter anyway. Ja'quar proceded with killing the shaman and looked around. The other fallen had dissapeared, their morale broken when they saw their leader die.
He laid the demon down, and then said, "Your talents are too good to be wasted. You will be my special servant." He went into the trance he knew so well and searched for that illusive veil. He found it, but this time, it was different. Another power besides life and death raged around this one, and that one was the power of magic. Ja'quar tried to harness this power, trying to not let any of it go to waste. He couldn't for it somehow had a natural affinity with the shaman. It did seem to aid Ja'quar's reviving procedure, removing some of the stress it caused to the necromancer. The magic continued to interfere with his work, until it seemed to do everything on its own.
As Ja'quar finished the rite he was astonished with his creation. The magical reserves the shaman had tapped in to in his lifetime were also the reserves he tapped in to in his death. The result was a zombie more akin to the real deal than anything he had ever created before, whilst costing no energy at all.
"You are special," Ja'quar said to the shaman, "and you are mine."
"Be wary... this could be a trap." he said to the rest of the group, and to the numerous soldiers standing by.
"Something you wanted, friend?" Dagon yelled cautiously towards the figure, not wanting to get too close in the event of an ambush.
"What I want is revenge. What I need are companions, and you two see more than fit."
The shadowy figure became more visible as they walked on. After a minute or two, they could see the shape of a man. The grass they walked on was dry and crunched under their feet.
"This is impossible! This place has had plenty of rain!"
They continued to walk, and when they finally approached the figure, they were astonished at what they saw. The man had obvious signs of distress and his clothes were those of peasants. His skin was wrinkled, but his eyes told a different, younger age. His voice. which once boomed in the distance, rolled off his tongue in such eloquence that he would be mistaken as royalty given he was in better condition.
"I'm surprised that you didn't run away like the last troupe of soldiers that encountered me. I am Azriel, son of the god who gave me that name. He sent an angel to free me from my prison... he will join us later if time permits."
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
I'm surprised that you didn't run away like the last troupe of soldiers that encountered me. I am Azriel, son of the god who gave me that name. He sent an angel to free me from my prison... he will join us later if time permits."
Said the man as they approached. Dagon found him... out of place enough to be believable. Yet, he still looked at the man with suspicion. What the hell is the son of an angel doing here...
Dagon chuckled to himself, suddenly realizing that he himself, the son of a demon, was proof that such odd things could come to pass.
"Well... I find myself reluctant to accept help from one such as yourself, but, we need all the help we can get. Sounds to me you want revenge on the same man we're going after, so, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, I guess."
Dagon held his hand out to shake the man's hand.
"Welcome aboard then, we're on our way to liberate the town of Olenta from demons, we'll need your help if you plan on getting revenge."
From the distance, Borin could hear Dagon say "Welcome aboard then, we're on our way to liberate the town of Olenta from demons, we'll need your help if you plan on getting revenge."
With this new man an official member of their rag-tag group. Feeling safer, he approached the rest of the group and welcomed the new traveler.
"Hello, my name is Borin" He told the man as they continued their march towards Olenta
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He quickly flew back to the cart to warn the others of the news ahead of them, but realized that Dagon and Seddrik had already made their way up to a shadowly man, quickly followed by Borin. Jerfuth swooped down to the ground, transforming back into a human with an elegant flip.
"There a mystical storm ahead," Jerfuth yelled in the prescene of the man, turning to him as well, "I am called Jerfuth, druid of the Singram Tribe."
Wulfgar listened to the man speak, but remained some what skeptic, but did not show any signs of it.
"Well at least it should prove to be more entertaining that fighting in the pits."
The sky somehow seemed disturbed. Ja'quar stood up and looked in front of their path: the storm was malevolent. A flash of lightning bolted down and the clap that followed made him feel rather uneasy.
A man's voice bellowed, but Seddrik and Dagon did not seem alarmed. Instead, they willingly walked towards its source: a shadowy figure on top of a hill. Even though this had to be a trap, the two brave men did not budge from their course. Either that, or they were entranced. Or just plain nuts.
The man began to tell a tale of being the son of an angel. Also, he was trapped and wanted revenge. Well, whatever it was, this man seemed both extremely dangerous and ridiculously weak. Ja'quar assumed the first, for underestimating anything is the same as inviting death into your home. He had forgotten that when he stormed out of the bar earlier today.
The man was greeted by everyone and not to be left behind Ja'quar said, "Greetings stranger. Your strength seems formidable and your goal brave. I'm Ja'quar." Once again, making every statement a bit more flattering seemed all too easy.
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"Hear ye, children of Abbadon!" Vaker heard a figure yell, Seddrik and Dagon aproached towards the figure and talked to him... adter a moment this man was a new member of the party...
"I'm Vaker friend, good to have new companions" Vaker said, but as the words came out from his mouth his face was clouded with a shadow of fear and surprise, as the grass the man standed on died inmediatly...
"Well, a time witch that can't remember her past and a necromancer who can't keep his power inside himself, this is getting odd" he thought...
The storm appeared in the horizon and she knew that her predictions were to become true. Two tears fell down her face. She always senced that power.
Suddenly they all stopped. They found a new company. She didn't know him. Something had changed. He was strange, but he wasn't evil. She thought: "I hope he can help us."
Suddenly, her eyes saw the whiteness, felt filthy flies flying around ... she shouted, "evil is coming" and then fainted.
Azriel heard the call over the hills, and the call quickly turned to shrieking in his ears. He cupped his hands over his ears, but the shrieking turned to whining and whining to buzzing. He cried out in agony as he looked at his bloody hands; his ears had been ruptured by the call.
'It's not! It's not, I WON'T BELIEVE IT!"
I hate the way you cling to ignorance and pass it off as innocence
Suddenly there was a yell from the time witch. Ja'quar looked around and pondered her cry, "Evil? Here? Odd beasts indeed."
He then turned back towards Dagon and hastily finnished his sentence, "...when I trap the ones fleeing the scene. Just send a small party to the forests between Olenta and Melayu, it'll be fun."
Then the so-called angel seemed in pain. He screamed and his hands bled. "This seems serious," Ja'quar said to no one in particular.
"Anyway Dagon, what say ye?"
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"Hell, it is about time." Wulfgar thought. "These men look like they are in dire need of a good fight all this walking is making us antsy."
"Dear leader. You know, I'm not entirely sure about this brunt attack. Well, not for me that is. I think I can help you more when..."
Ja'quar was cut off mid sentence, as Azriel's ear ruptured, and poured blood onto his hands. He stood there in disbelief, screaming.
What the fuck is coming... Dagon thought to himself, what could cause this much dismay and disorder among the group.
"...when I trap the ones fleeing the scene. Just send a small party to the forests between Olenta and Melayu, it'll be fun."
"Anyway Dagon, what say ye?" finished Ja'quar.
"Well have to see what happens as we get closer, I'm expecting for us to arrive in the midst of battle, the Fallen should still be outside the town walls, as long as we can flank one of their battle camps, we'll be fine. But, if you want to try to execute this plan near the edge of one of the camps, it'll work just as well." Dagon said, not wanting to spread the group out too far.
The soldiers nearby stood on guard, the shrieking coming from the west, near the town of Olenta. They marched closer and closer to the town, and saw nothing. The walls were unmanned, the fields were clean, nobody was in sight. They reached the gates, hesitant to open them, Dagon took a moment to prepare himself for whatever may lie within the castle walls.
He took a deep breath, and threw open the town gates. He was greeted corpses, near endless corpses strewn about the street. Fallen warriors were feasting on the bodies, indulging in the spoils of war. They paused and looked up as the group entered the town, they howled, and charged the warriors.
Azriel's ears started to bleed 'It's not! It's not, I WILL NOT BELIEVE IT! "He shouted. Vaker was more nervous than he would have liked to show.
Ja'quar and Dagon spoke some words that he could not hear, but noted that they were planning something ...
Slowly they approached the gates of Olenta was a sickening smell filled his lungs and an electrical sensation gripped his nerves. Vaker remained behind the group, caring for the witch who seemed lost in a pleasant but troubled sleep ...
"What could that Evil be?" he asked. But his question was not heard because in that intstante Dagon was opening the doors. The vision of the slaughter was shot to fire in Vaker's eyes, the Fallen eating the human carrion, they looked up towards the group and charged at them.
"This will not be so easy" he said, and a fire rained on the little devils. The storm raged in the sky throwing lightning towards the group, as if heaven itself was against them. "What the hell is this?" Vaker cried, he was scared, but he could not afford his nerves get uncontrolled, then he realized what was happening ...
He looked at the witch, made sure she were securely fastened to the horse and closed his eyes. When he opened little sparks flew between his fingers, smiled and sent a deadly lightning charge against some of the demons who came running to them...
"It's not! It's not, I WILL NOT BELIEVE IT!"
The voices of all of the people around him began to overwhelm him. His brother swiftly flung open the gates of Olenta, and almost immediately a stench of death and rotting flesh filled the air. Drangar covered his face with an arm in a futile attempt to shield the nauseating smell. He finally looked up and saw the inside of the town. "Holy shit.." He whispered. The town was nothing but an endless sea of organs and mutilated corpses. He heard a yell and saw a troop of Fallen warriors charging towards them with speed that only a demon could move with.
"DIE YOU BASTARDS!!!"
The doors were opened and in front of them was a sea of bodies. Human remnants with horror-struck faces huddled in piles. An exquisite banquet for the fallen, or a playground for a necromancer. As soon as fallen charged the group entering the city, Ja'quar dashed away from the brawl. He had to find the poor man's district. The tight alleyways would be perfect for ambushes.
At last he found one that suited his taste; with bodies aplenty it would be almost too easy. He reanimated as many as possible, but ordered them to keep lying still all across the alley. Ja'quar then went out to find danger. He would be the bait, and the dead would be the trap. Once again, a sly smile of irony enveloped his lips.
The fallen he found did not need much encouragement. They snarled and raged as each of them wanted the honour of eviscerating the still living human. They ran through the streets of Olenta, not knowing the danger that laid ahead. The human stopped, perhaps he knew it was futile, but suddenly the bodies around them started to move. Limbs stirred and heads twisted. Hands grabbed arms and mouths gnawed on ankles. This man had trapped them! They were fighting for their lives, but now it was them who realized it was futile. The last vision they had was that of a small human, watching them cold eyed and smiling.
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As the beasts approached, Borin watched as an icy aura surrounded his body. "Frozen armor! If you happen to get strucked, frozen armor will freeze the enemy!" He heard Seddrik explaining to the group.
Borin made his way to the right, separating himself from the rest of the group. He knew that his skills were much more useful away from the horde. He found himself aside a large building. Borin quickly glanced in through the broken window to see only more slain by the claws of these vial demons.
Borin readied his bow and found his target, a large grouping of the beasts. Borin could tell that their numbers were their strength. He pulled out an arrow from the quiver strapped on his back. As he placed the arrow on his bow, the tip of the arrow burst into a flame. Borin shot the arrow up high into the air. As the arrow streaked through the air, it came plunging down and hit the ground near the cluster of demons. The arrow's fire spread out from the wooden stick and created a large pool of fire on the ground. The monsters were forced to flee from the spot causing them to separate. Borin quickly littered the air with more of these arrows forming large areas burning.
Once the group has scattered, Borin began his work of picking them off, one by one. He remembered the words of his Amazonian Mother " Its not speed, its accuracy".
Borin thought of these words as he aimed each shot. The first arrow left his bow and streaked across the street. Landing in the beast's chest did little to stop these creatures.
"These are some tough demons" Borin thought to himself. Just as he prepared for another shot, he heard the snarling of a beast behind him. Before he could even turn around to face the creature, he heard a crackling sound. After turning around he saw the beast frozen in mid action with his club inches from Borin.
"I'll have to remember to thank Seddrick for the protection." Borin raised his foot and kicked the statuesque shape. Pieces broke apart falling to the ground only to shatter more.
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Unphased, the imps behind them vaulted over the charred corpses of their comrades and pressed the charge. Dagon felt a sudden chill rush around him as Seddrick chanted a spell. Distracted, Dagon did not notice one of the fallen reach him and strike a blow. It froze solid where it stood. Dagon lashed out with a kick, and shattered the imp.
"Thanks Seddrick!" Dagon yelled as he kept his gaze forward, not wanting a repeat of that incident. Dagon threw himself at the nearest fallen, just as it leaped at him. The force of his metal clad arm sent the fallen sprawling, just as an arrow pierced it's chest.
He rushed forwards, slicing through the gut of the nearest fallen, Spilling its entrails across the street. Several imps ran off into an alleyway, only to be met by a horde of undead. Their screams pierced the air, unnerving the rest of their comrades. Dagon used this to his advantage, he pressed forwards, parrying a club, and kicking out the legs of the Fallen who attacked him. He drove his blade down into the chest of the warrior, snuffing out his life.
The rest of the imps lay dead, or dying, as Dagons comrades mopped up the rest of the opposition. Once the streets lay silent, Dagon had to formulate a plan.
"Well... looks like this won't be going as we had planned." he said, "the two places we should check for survivors would be the church, and the castle keep. We'll make our way to the church first, leave half of the soldiers we brought with any survivors, and then take any able bodied citizens to check the castle." Dagon said, impressed with his split second planning.
He pointed at the group of soldiers that would be guarding the church, if they found any survivors. They nodded, and prepared for the march to the church.
"Be on your guard, there will no doubt be more Fallen in the streets."
Just as Dagon uttered these words a wounded fallen rushed towards the back of Dagon, shoulder ramming him into the ground. Dagon lay beneath him in shock, the Fallen began to draw his blade and raise it over his head.
Drangar reached for his throwing knife stored in his ankle, throwing in straight towards the Fallen. The knife connected in the Fallen's shoulder, temporarily stunning it. "AAAARRRRRRGGG!" Drangar charged toward the beast feeling more hate than he has ever felt before. With almost inhuman swiftness Drangar plunged the two hidden blades into the chest and stomach of the beast, lifted it over his head and ripped the helpless creature in half. He removed the Fallen from his blade and help his brother up.
"Nobody fucks with my family." He said as he offered his hand to his brother,
He got up to look at his assailant. The charging fallen had separated and stood still on the sides of the road. On the other end of the walkway there was a fallen leaning on a stick; a shaman. The demon looked a bit older and a lot wiser than the rest of his kin, and he enjoyed their respect.
Ja'quar wanted to walk away, but whenever he would put a step back the shaman held his staff forward and fire started to form at its tip, ready to explode in his direction. He was trapped, but still the simple imps did not advance into his direction. Only the shaman got closer and drew his blade. He pointed with it towards Ja'quar sheath, commanding him to do the same. Ja'quar obliged.
The shaman dropped his staff and snarled some orders to the simpletons, who promptly formed a ring around the two mages. It was at that moment that it dawned to Ja'quar what was happening; "A duel...", he said and couldn't help but smile. The shaman snickered with him.
Suddenly the little upstart charged; now it was serious! The fallen had caught the trapper by surprise and left a nasty gash in his left arm. They ended with their backs towards each other, but the swampdweller was the first one to take advantage of the situation by creating a nasty wound across the elder's back.
The shaman turned around and they looked each other in the eye. Ja'quar saw the proverbial fire building up in his nemesis' eyes, one that seemed to have died out ages ago. The red-skinned demon charged once more, but this time Ja'quar was less surprised. He acted as if he was, resulting in a second gash to accompany his first one, but this time he turned around more swiftly and planted his dagger deep in the shaman's shoulder.
The fallen screamed of agony, rage and delight as his blade fell from his grip. Ja'quar kicked it away and looked into the fallen's eyes, trying to discern his train of thought. He didn't know what went on in that head of his, but it didn't matter anyway. Ja'quar proceded with killing the shaman and looked around. The other fallen had dissapeared, their morale broken when they saw their leader die.
He laid the demon down, and then said, "Your talents are too good to be wasted. You will be my special servant." He went into the trance he knew so well and searched for that illusive veil. He found it, but this time, it was different. Another power besides life and death raged around this one, and that one was the power of magic. Ja'quar tried to harness this power, trying to not let any of it go to waste. He couldn't for it somehow had a natural affinity with the shaman. It did seem to aid Ja'quar's reviving procedure, removing some of the stress it caused to the necromancer. The magic continued to interfere with his work, until it seemed to do everything on its own.
As Ja'quar finished the rite he was astonished with his creation. The magical reserves the shaman had tapped in to in his lifetime were also the reserves he tapped in to in his death. The result was a zombie more akin to the real deal than anything he had ever created before, whilst costing no energy at all.
"You are special," Ja'quar said to the shaman, "and you are mine."
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