King Niefion stormed down the spiral staircase of his tower uttering foul profanities, his hair streaming behind him in perfect coordination with his black cape, in color and in motion. His eyes were dark as well, and black with anger. He wasnt a small man by nature, nor sickly, yet his skin was pale as a winters moon and it clung to his bones like cobwebs to old furniture, the circles under his eyes revealed he hadnt slept well in a long time. All in all, he was the worse for wear, but his stride was purposeful and his anger potent; there was no weakness in his bearing, it was, as is fitting, the bearing of a king. A righteous king. An enraged king.
In his bony hands he clutched an ancient tome, savagely tight, in an obsessive way, shielding it from his own wrath. The shadows around him responded readily to his rage, squirming and writhing, trying to be free from natures constraining laws. Soldiers and servants alike tried to avoid him, pressing up against the wall as their king stalked by leaving a trail of evil, warped magic behind him.
He stopped abruptly and slammed his foot on the stone steps with more force than should be physically possible. The steps around him fractured from the power and the men around him cowered further.
Traitorous hag! He raged to no one present. I loved you! We were going to be the rulers of ALL Yorathia! And what did you do? Turn against ME!?!
Niefion yelled again and punched the wall, shattering it and sending pieces skittering down the stairway. He then reached out a grasping hand toward a terrified guard, the guards own shadow ripped free of the ground and lifted the man into the air, hurling him at the wall. The man screamed before hitting the wall face first with a bone crunching report. He made no more noise, however, as he bounced off the wall and tumbled down the stairs. The other men stood still, silent as prey in the eyes of a hawk, hoping against hope to be overlooked. King Niefion ignored them all as he continued his furious descent into the depths of his castle, even stepping in the dead guards rapidly expanding puddle of blood without a downward glance.
He felt rather than heard the seven spell casters chanting, standing outside the walls of his castle. It reverberated in his head like a drum, each word a hammers blow driving another nail into his coffin. He could sense their magic forming to their will, rapidly bringing the spell to completion, the spell that would be the end of him if he didnt act fast.
Yes, he sneered. You have bested me, this battle is yours. But know this Eleri, dear, this war is not over. It does not matter if you battle beside them, the pestilence of this world, I will still win. I. ALWAYS. WIN!
He bit out these words just as he reached a large double door deep in the bowels of his castle, two slabs of plain iron, completely unadorned and even lacking the handles to open them. Leaning close he put one hand on each side and started to whisper into the crack of the door. His words were soft, smooth, all the fury had gone out of his voice. As he was speaking, black writing flowed out from underneath his palms printing itself on the metal. Suddenly the doors moved as if of their own volition, opening into a large circular chamber with no windows. Inside something stirred, concealed by the shadows at the edges of the room. It produced a sharp clatter as it stood, like horse hooves on pavement, and as it moved the clanking of chains revealed its imprisoned state. However, the single blood red eye that glared through the darkness was not the gaze of an brainless horse and the fire it held is not found in a captive slave.
Niefion returned the glare with one of his own as he crossed the room.
You will go to my son with these, he snapped as he flipped through his book, tearing out pages, quite a contrast to the protectiveness with which he had previously held it. Desperation can force a man into a corner, and when trapped, a fox will gnaw off its own leg if only to survive.
He held the papers out to the creature but didnt let go when it tried to take them in its clawed hand - bending close to it he whispered, Tell him these are a gift and if he wants the rest .Well, he will have to come free me. Wont he?
He finished his statement with a small, sly, smile. Only then did he let the creature take the pages. Stepping back, he uttered a word and the sound of shattering metal filled the room as the chains holding the creature snapped, sending shards rebounding off the stone. The creature stomped its newly freed limbs without moving its gaze from Niefion. Niefion stared right back with a firm look that dared it to disobey his command. A moment lapsed, then the creature began to chuckle.
The army on the plain, desperate but unbroken, and the king sulking inside his castle, so sure in his power. the creatures voice, mocking at first, turned deadly serious They have something in common, they both only postpone an inevitable fate that will come when the chains are broken and the true will unleashed. It is not the stroke of a sword that can be blocked or shattered, or a moment in time you can avoid or prevent. It is. Simple and binding, stronger than stone, and as undeniable as the rising of the sun or the falling of rain. The creature paused a second as if to say more, instead it let out a shrill, inhuman, laugh that echoed around the room. It kept laughing as it faded away and disappeared from the castle. King Niefion shook himself to dispel the chills that the creatures words had invoked; abruptly he realized that his emissary had left not a moment too soon. He could already feel reality twist and come apart as the magics ripped into the fabric of the world. The distortion of reality was like a knife being twisted in his gut, even the spiders felt it as they scurried around in the dark room searching for a way out.
Do your worst lowlifes, he sneered in contempt. And you Eleri, I applaud your initiative, bask in this victory, my dear, for there wont be another. But, please, do not hurry, after all A grin split his face as he casually leaned up against a pillar with the book hugged to his chest. I have all the time in the world. He started to chuckle to himself as the chanting ended and everything went dark.
In his bony hands he clutched an ancient tome, savagely tight, in an obsessive way, shielding it from his own wrath. The shadows around him responded readily to his rage, squirming and writhing, trying to be free from natures constraining laws. Soldiers and servants alike tried to avoid him, pressing up against the wall as their king stalked by leaving a trail of evil, warped magic behind him.
He stopped abruptly and slammed his foot on the stone steps with more force than should be physically possible. The steps around him fractured from the power and the men around him cowered further.
Traitorous hag! He raged to no one present. I loved you! We were going to be the rulers of ALL Yorathia! And what did you do? Turn against ME!?!
Niefion yelled again and punched the wall, shattering it and sending pieces skittering down the stairway. He then reached out a grasping hand toward a terrified guard, the guards own shadow ripped free of the ground and lifted the man into the air, hurling him at the wall. The man screamed before hitting the wall face first with a bone crunching report. He made no more noise, however, as he bounced off the wall and tumbled down the stairs. The other men stood still, silent as prey in the eyes of a hawk, hoping against hope to be overlooked. King Niefion ignored them all as he continued his furious descent into the depths of his castle, even stepping in the dead guards rapidly expanding puddle of blood without a downward glance.
He felt rather than heard the seven spell casters chanting, standing outside the walls of his castle. It reverberated in his head like a drum, each word a hammers blow driving another nail into his coffin. He could sense their magic forming to their will, rapidly bringing the spell to completion, the spell that would be the end of him if he didnt act fast.
Yes, he sneered. You have bested me, this battle is yours. But know this Eleri, dear, this war is not over. It does not matter if you battle beside them, the pestilence of this world, I will still win. I. ALWAYS. WIN!
He bit out these words just as he reached a large double door deep in the bowels of his castle, two slabs of plain iron, completely unadorned and even lacking the handles to open them. Leaning close he put one hand on each side and started to whisper into the crack of the door. His words were soft, smooth, all the fury had gone out of his voice. As he was speaking, black writing flowed out from underneath his palms printing itself on the metal. Suddenly the doors moved as if of their own volition, opening into a large circular chamber with no windows. Inside something stirred, concealed by the shadows at the edges of the room. It produced a sharp clatter as it stood, like horse hooves on pavement, and as it moved the clanking of chains revealed its imprisoned state. However, the single blood red eye that glared through the darkness was not the gaze of an brainless horse and the fire it held is not found in a captive slave.
Niefion returned the glare with one of his own as he crossed the room.
You will go to my son with these, he snapped as he flipped through his book, tearing out pages, quite a contrast to the protectiveness with which he had previously held it. Desperation can force a man into a corner, and when trapped, a fox will gnaw off its own leg if only to survive.
He held the papers out to the creature but didnt let go when it tried to take them in its clawed hand - bending close to it he whispered, Tell him these are a gift and if he wants the rest .Well, he will have to come free me. Wont he?
He finished his statement with a small, sly, smile. Only then did he let the creature take the pages. Stepping back, he uttered a word and the sound of shattering metal filled the room as the chains holding the creature snapped, sending shards rebounding off the stone. The creature stomped its newly freed limbs without moving its gaze from Niefion. Niefion stared right back with a firm look that dared it to disobey his command. A moment lapsed, then the creature began to chuckle.
The army on the plain, desperate but unbroken, and the king sulking inside his castle, so sure in his power. the creatures voice, mocking at first, turned deadly serious They have something in common, they both only postpone an inevitable fate that will come when the chains are broken and the true will unleashed. It is not the stroke of a sword that can be blocked or shattered, or a moment in time you can avoid or prevent. It is. Simple and binding, stronger than stone, and as undeniable as the rising of the sun or the falling of rain. The creature paused a second as if to say more, instead it let out a shrill, inhuman, laugh that echoed around the room. It kept laughing as it faded away and disappeared from the castle. King Niefion shook himself to dispel the chills that the creatures words had invoked; abruptly he realized that his emissary had left not a moment too soon. He could already feel reality twist and come apart as the magics ripped into the fabric of the world. The distortion of reality was like a knife being twisted in his gut, even the spiders felt it as they scurried around in the dark room searching for a way out.
Do your worst lowlifes, he sneered in contempt. And you Eleri, I applaud your initiative, bask in this victory, my dear, for there wont be another. But, please, do not hurry, after all A grin split his face as he casually leaned up against a pillar with the book hugged to his chest. I have all the time in the world. He started to chuckle to himself as the chanting ended and everything went dark.