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Post by Cella on May 13, 2006 22:48:40 GMT -5
The darkness of the night was total, the moon hidden behind a thick layer of clouds that seemed to grow even denser. The soldiers on the wall were hard pressed to see very far from their own noses, let alone at what approached from below.
Cella walked slowly, her entire demeanor that of a cat on the prowl. Her lavender eyes looked about in the dark night, seeing everything as if it were as light as day, all the while she continued toward the towering gates of Karador, the night seemed to grow even darker and warmer with every step she took, the soldiers on the night watch became all the more tense, not knowing what was about for they could not see, but they could feel. Even the most thick of humans wouldn’t be able to ignore the fact that something was not right, something in the air stirred, the breeze that blew in from the south was more warm, more moist than what was natural for any time of year in this part of the world. It was more fit for the swamps out north of the realm. Cella stopped, not more than a couple feet from the towering mass of stone and magically enhanced structure before her and looked upwards along its height. Her lavender gaze remaining solid, nothing special in her eyes, less one looked closely, they’d find the flames of hell burning dully behind the lavender orbs and in the small light from the flames, one would see, as well, the slight grin of an ultimate evil becoming unbound slowly within.
She felt her master close to her, though did not turn to acknowledge him, his presence was all she need feel to know he was behind her, and she knew where he stood, she saw him in her minds eyes as her outward vision explored her surroundings, her inward eye kept careful watch on Decimas. Her lord, her master, the very one she would not allow anything to harm, the one who seemed suddenly to become her meaning to life was her reasoning for being here, her reasoning for what she was about to do.
Cella then rose off the ground, jumped half way up the several hundred-foot wall, and then crawled the remainder upwards with no seeming means of attachment other than touch. Her hands and feet moved along the wall with much grace, like a squirrel scaling the bark of a tree, she moved upwards until she was at the top, her form moved over the top and came to rest on the wide area that the soldiers patrolled, coming to a crouch her eyes spotting every human in an instant, even those within the walls, she saw them moving about uneasily in their soldiers rooms, their dungeons were empty for the moment, and would stay that way this night, for by the time she’d finished with the lot of them, there would be none left to capture and imprison any who might try to scale these walls again.
The wind began to grow in speed, whipping the soldiers short cloaks about their armored bodies, the wet air beginning to bring with it an ill scent, as if it had been brought from the swamps themselves, though it would seem an impossibility, it was that scent, the scent of decay and mold and of stagnant water. Then, one after another, the soldiers on top the wall began to wretch, though it wasn’t from the foul smell, but from some unseen virus that was riding on the back of that foul wind, one that had soon made its deadly way into their bloodstream and worked quickly at destroying their bodies from the inside out.
Cella was not effected, and nor was Decimas, the wind seemed to totally ignore him as he stood below, though the limbs of the bushes that stood inches from his feet bent in the wind, his cloak not so much as quivered.
After a few minutes, the winds moved on, lifting as quickly as it had come, leaving behind an entire night watch of soldiers dead in its wake. The only survivors were those deep within the wall, down in the dungeon rooms. Cella knew they’d soon be up in the night, wondering what the silence was all about. When they came, she would be ready for them.
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Post by Decimas on May 14, 2006 23:36:30 GMT -5
Standing alone in the darkness Decimas watched as the unchained demon girl mounted the great walls of mighty Karador and assaulted the guards of the towers without so much as lifting a finger against them. The master necromancer was filled with awe as he stood below and peered up at the wonderous impliment of war for the great cause of a dream so bold as his. This girl was proving to be quite the admirable disciple in the necromanecrs twisted righteousness, causing more damage to the ignorent foes than he ever could on his own. Decimas was most pleased at the vampirical demon girls display of power. Her abilities were proving already to be far more immennse than the necrmoancer had ever been led to believe and he was more than glad to see that the legends of the unchained seemed mere shadows of the creatures truest form.
Decimas looked down at the ground after several moments of gazing upwards at the top of the wall where that newfound follower of his had been wreeking havok previously unknown and obviously unexpected upon the guards of the Karador city walls. Watching the grass on the ground and the bushes beside himself wither and die around him as the winds blew the blades of grass and branches of bushes about, Decimas grinned proudly at the control that this freshly released unchained disciple was exacting over her own forces of power. After staring downwards and watching the effects of the death bringing winds surrounding him, Decimas thought a moment and started to walk. Starting with one single step and continuing after only a barely noticeable hesitance, the necromancer walked fearlessly through the unforgiving winds as they seemed to part around him wherever he would go.
The necromancer could feel the deaths of the men atop the walls within his very blood. The bodies falling limp to the ground resounded through Decimas’ mind as he gazed upwards again while moving steadily closer to the wall itself. “Orior oriri ortus iterum ut vos cado , custodiae custodie de validus parietis.” The necromancer spoke with a grin still on his face as he stopped walking and stood staring up at the wall, seeing only the faint form of the sole standing person on it. “Orior oriri ortus iterum ut vos cado , custodiae custodie de validus parietis.” He said again, not that he had to, but for his own minds safety sake as neurotically compulsive as he was.
As the necromancer spoke his words, every body that had fallen on the wall gasped and rose to their feet. The fallen guards of the great Karador wall would all rise up and march on the city from the placements that were believed by all to be the source of protection from the so called evils that threatened the city. Though haven fallen in death, those corpses were still perfectly formed. There were no damages done to them and they were also still as fresh as could be imagined. These corpses were absolutely prime, they were grade A material for the hordes of walking dead that the necromancer would need for his cause. And as well as strong undamaged forms, these living dead were also shielded through the armor worn by the guards they used to be. This trip to have the girls potential displayed to the necromancer master was proving to be more usefull than even he had previously imagined.
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Post by Cella on May 15, 2006 21:13:12 GMT -5
Cella felt his words more than heard them and she hesitated a moment before continuing on, her feet making little to no sound at all on the high stonewall. She was making her way to the gates; her eyes set on opening them up, for good, or until they could manage to get them repaired, one or the other. The sounds of the rising Soldiers all around her didn’t’ bother her, she knew they’d giver her plenty of space to work, they always did.
She found her feet coming to the gate house itself, a sluggishly moving soldier was just departing from his former post, her lips turned into a smile, she knew Decimas was happy with her, she could feel his approval, that was about the time there was a loud crash behind her as several of those from below had finally made their way up the stairs to find their fallen comrades in such horrid condition as well her tiny form stepping over the threshold and into the controlling tower of the gates keep.
There were loud shouts from the top of the wall, the sound of iron clashing against iron as the dead soldiers began to fight against their once brothers-in-arms. Cella was quite pleased with the site and she opened her mind, allowing her master from below to bare witness to the fighting through her own eyes. He’d also see as she crept up on the closest human to her, how she had grasped his neck in her small hand and pushed his head forward, through the stone itself, not shattering the mans face, but sinking it into the stone and then let him stay there, to struggle for breath and sight until he snapped his own neck to free himself from the entrapment inside the wall.
Cella giggled happily at that one as she twirled around to watch the fighting continue, there wasn’t a whole lot going on for her taste, certainly, soldiers were being slain but then, so were the dead, Cella sighed outwardly. “This is going to make an awful lot of noise.” She stated, both to herself as well as Decimas far below. She shrugged then, and moved into the gatehouse and looked down at the controls to open and close the massive gates, to pull the locking mechanisms up and away from the inner of the giant gates as well. Another sigh.. “How totally uninteresting.” She complained and turned away from it, her mind working the gears as she walked form the room.
She stepped back into the fray that continued around her as yet another regiment came up the stairs, fighting their way through a mass of rising dead. Cella was walking through the mass of bodies and clashing weapons and straight into the middle of the chaos when her feet once more stopped just as a sword came rushing past her head. She growled and then spun about on her heal to see whom had attempted that swing for her when she was run through from the back, the steel sword stuck out through her mid section and she reached down and grasped it then pushed backwards, forcing the blade out from her midsection and spun back around again to face her assailant face to face. “Tsk, tsk tsk..” s he said, swaying a bloodied index finger at the soldier who’s eyes went wide at the fact that not only had she not fallen, she acted as though it didn’t even so much as hurt. As soon as she had finished waving her index finger at the man, she sighed once more. “You humans have got to learn.” She stated and in no more than an instant, there were screams of ultimate pain echoing through the nights air, living men fell to their knees, doubling over in grate pain from an unseen force. Cella stood in the middle as the living began to either continue screaming or suddenly took it into their own minds to jump straight off the wall and plunge silently to their own deaths. The ones remaining began to gasp for air as Cella’s hands clenched at her sides, and then as if a conductor of a massive screaming choir, she lifted those clenched fists and opened her fingers, as her fingers opened, so did the chests implode, the screams cut short as blood trickled silently out from the men’s lips, their bodies all slumped to the stone beneath them, the only remaining sound was the gates as they opened up to admit the nights creatures without hindrance.
Once the gates had been opened, Cella walked silently down, flight after flight of stairs, stepping over bodies, her graceful feet carrying her down unscathed as well as unperturbed by the dead, as well as the walking dead. She moved until she stood just before the massive gates, her fiery lavender eyes focused on the gates until the wooden monsters took flame and began to burn rapidly before her.
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Post by Mikïa on May 18, 2006 14:56:06 GMT -5
The moon and the stars that had shown brightly just moments earlier in the night sky were now hidden from sight as clouds covered them over. No more light from above was shed upon the land, and though it worried the soldiers, Mikïa did not give a care in the world as she layed on her back looking up at the once bright sky while still talking to Adelphos, the guard that resided in the tower where she was at that moment.
Sensing that every soldier on the wall was getting more and more stressed, and Adelphos was looking over the wall of the tower, she asked him, “What's going on Ady?”
The young man did not answer her right away, he just stood there fidgeting as he looked through the notches of the parapet. After a few moments he tried to reply but seemed to find the words hard to get out. “I...... I.. don't know.... It..... it's......”
“That's alright.” She said to him in a calm and soothing voice that never reached his ears but seemed to flow through his mind. “I can see your thoughts.” As she spoke unto him a calming wave swept over him, relaxing every muscle in his body and the images of his short nineteen year life stopped flashing in front of him.
Had it been any other guard, she would not have meddled, or even cared. But over the many months since this one had started his post, she had grown somewhat fond of him as she spent a few nights now and then chatting with him in the tower. He reminded her of one of her brothers, if for no other reason than that, it made him important to her.
Reaching her mind out across the distance that surrounded the city wall, she senced a danger to their lives and errected an invisible field that closed off the guard tower from anything that could come from the exterior. “Get down on the ground so no one see's you.”
Adelphos turned to look at her, “But I'm a guard of Karador. You know I have to do my job.”
She glared at him in such a way that could only be done with care in one's heart, “If you don't get down you won't live to see tomorrow. What good would you be for Karador then? And how would Karina take the news of your demise?” She knew nothing could affect him more than the thoughts of Karador and his bride to be.
She did not have time to finish asking her questions and he was already seated. He knew she could tell things that could not posibly be known and he trusted her even though he wanted to help his brothers in arms that he could hear falling to the ground, aparently deathly sick.
Mikïa's mind was still scanning the surroundings, she could feel the many deaths followed by their 'return to life'. She knew it was not natural and that a necromancer had to be in the vicinity. She rose from her position on the ground to lean on a lower part of the parapet so as she could see what was going on. The place she took up was looking directly down onto the wall, and therefore, no one inside the city or in the fields around could see her. Only if one was on the wall and happened to look her way would they take note.
The battle that ensued sort of intrigued her as the one that seemed to be the cause of the chaos for this evening apeared to have some great powers and lack of feeling, demonstrated by the lack of reaction when the sword went right through her. What caught Mikïa's attention even more in this odd situation was that she had seen the woman before, at a hospital, tending to wounds, not causing them.
“Stay low, if you care to see tomorrow.” She said to Ady through his mind as she went through the field and silently down the stairs to the main wall.
Looking at all the dead and walking dead that surrounded her, she shook her head in dismay at the thought of the slaughter that had occurred. Though she did not have an attachement to these men, the unbalanced fight that just happened was something of a shame in her eyes.
Not caring to go through an uneven fight herself, she jumped up unto the inner side of the city wall and leaped off it's edge, landing softly on the ground a few stories below where she once was. Running her fingers through her hair to move the rebel strands from her face, she leaned against the wall that stood to her left and looked onto the young nurse who was presently burning the doors into the city.
“Such odd behavior for a nurse.” Mikïa said to Cella as she cocked her head to the right.
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Post by Cella on May 18, 2006 23:22:57 GMT -5
Cella looked slowly up at the voice that had spoken to her, the words that came to the Unchained made little to no sense at all. “Nurse?” She questioned, her words coming out in a shallow rasp of what was her usual voice. “I am afraid dear, you have me mistaken for someone who honestly cares, or in fact, someone altogether not what you see before you.” She replied again, this time, her heated lavender gaze moving over the girl before her with not so much as a care in the entire world and then returning back to their present wonder at the moving and jumping flames before her, a cruel smile etched on her shapely lips.
Decimas, there seems to be someone here who thinks I am someone else, you may want to be certain you take care in your steps... she has an amount of power, though you may trust in me, I will not allow her to harm you if she chooses to try and stand in our way. Cella sped a thought to her master, one that Mikia would most definitely not be able to intercept, the link between the Unchained and the Necromancer being the most private and secure.
Cella truly had no worries, for some reason, she knew her own worth, she knew that there wasn’t a soul in the world that would be able to stop her if she should not want them to. She was learning about herself even as she stood there, listening to the world about her, and with each passing second, her knowledge of who and what she was had grown, was still growing, and it was quite apparent that the small nurse was nowhere at all in that shell of growing evil. It was like a twisted and distorted version of the Devil himself, the pure power she was sucking form her environment was incredible, not even the great Diala would have an easy win against her at this particular moment, when everything was burning so brightly in her fast mind. At the same time though, she knew that the girl standing not so far away from her, was not a threat, that she somehow was neither for ar against what it was she was doing and so, Cella more or less ignored her, though kept her in her minds eye… just incase. One never knew if a fly may need to be swatted, should it become to annoying.
What is your orders master? What if anything would you have me do with this new arrival, I honestly think it would not be of use to us, as I do not think it is capable of death, or, at least in a sense that you would have any use for. Cella then sent yet another thought his way.
Just at that point, Cella turned her lavender gaze over to the one standing near her, now finding a reason to allow this entity to become of at least some import to her. “What is it that thou art, being not human, I can tell as much, you don’t smell right.” Cella then boldly asked, tilting her auburn covered head to the side slightly, her quick mind still continuing to such in the knowledge of the earth, as well as listening to and for Decimas, and now, speaking to this one next to her, the only one so bold that it did not seem frightened of Cella, and this intrigued the small nurse ever more.
If there was one thing Mikia would know, it would be that Cella was gaining knowledge from the earth itself, she was pulling in energies as well as speaking to all the life around her as if reading several thousand book of great knowledge all at one time, her seemingly unfocused mind working at a most incredible speed.
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Post by Mikïa on May 19, 2006 5:04:46 GMT -5
Mikia looked Cella over as she spoke her words. She knew very well, even before laying eyes on this one tonight, as to who she was, she knew very well that she was not mistaken as to the identity of the person before her. “I'm afraid dear, that when it comes to recognising people I've encountered before, I'm never mistaken.” She replied in a solemn manner, with the deepest of sincerities.
She had not been where she was for long when she felt and heard the undead finally reach the bottom of the stairs and aproach her location. The immortal tried to ignore them, hoping they would go right by her for some unknown reason, not because she feared them, but because it was a waste. She had no use to fight them, not even for her own enjoyment as she already knew how stupid and imcompetant the undead were when it came to battle. And this particular kind of undead were even bigger idiots than the others. At least within the other races, they had some of greater inteligence that may be worth a second thought.
Her hopes were vanquished when she senced a sword coming down onto her. Barely any time for reflection passed when her right hand flung back to quickly remove the weapon and throw it to the ground. She spun around to face her 'foe' and grabbed it by it's throat to then hold it at arms length. She squeezed it's neck, enough to give it a hard time but not enough to crack it's head off it's body. It grasped it's hands around her arm in hopes to free itself and she completely ignored it's efforts, turning her sight towards those that were then stepping over bodies to come down to the main landing.
”Necromancer!” She yelled out behind her. “I know you are there.” She gave pause before continuing, “If you wish to keep your slugish drones alive, call them off. I do not wish to be forced into slaughtering them.” She shook her head as she spoke. “It would serve me no purpose.”
She adressed the one she could not see for she knew that Cella did not hold the power over these ones. She knew that only a necromancer had the power to change their 'thought process', if you considered they had one.
All the while she could feel the energies around her being pulled at. She could feel a large connection between the nurse and everything around them. The girl seemed like a sponge, taking everything in, learning. It was an interesting feeling, one she had felt before, but not at the same time from one person, not on this large of a scale. She knew that for one to be doing such immence things with such ease that they had to be very powerfull. Yes, she already knew that Cella had great strengths within her just from her energy, but it did not tell the whole truth, it did not say how great they were. She could only have respect for one that could do such things.
“What is it that thou art, being not human, I can tell as much, you don’t smell right.” Said the young one behind her and Mikïa laughed.
“That is an odd question to come from you Cella. Is alzheimers affecting you at such a young age, that you have forgotten already?” She replied, still holding the undead that was persistant in trying to free itself. Still waiting for sign that the necro would call off his horde.
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Post by Decimas on May 29, 2006 1:50:41 GMT -5
“You would have me march the dead into the city then?” Decimas said, rather than asked as he walked out from the shadows of darkness into the sight of the immortal abomination. “Beyond these walls without even the slightest word of protest from your vile lips?” The necromancer was most displeased with the blatantly ignorent misconceptions of this rudely intrucive wench and he would let no false face show from his side of the battle field. “And so it shall be then.” He stated conclusively after a slight delay for thoughts. The necromancer was most displeased with the blatantly ignorent misconceptions of this rudely intrucive wench and he would let no false face show from his side of the battle field. “And so it shall be then.” He stated conclusively after a slight delay for thoughts. As soon as the necromancer said those last words, his hords of undead started to split around the naively beligerent fool who stood before him.
With the ever expanding armies of dead marching through the city gates and over the city walls to the streets of Karador, armed with the steals and armors of the guards from the gates, Decimas stood next to his newly proven disciple of darkness in her ever growing power to face the undesired pestilence of an uninspired soul. “The woman you see before you now is not the girl you met before.” Decimas stated bluntly as he looked into the eyes of this intrucive wench. His hood was still covering his head and the shadows still hid his face from anyones sights as he stood tall to take his stand defending the new dignity of his unchained warrior. “Her face may be the the same and as well her form,” the necromancer admitted. “But the woman within is nothing alike to what was there some time ago.” He wouldn’t have the girls honor so haynessly disregarded so early in its formation. To put down the choices that cella had made to follow him in the great fullfillment of his dreams by remarking on the pathetic ignorence she had once been plagued by was no less that dispicable. Decimas would not stand for it.
“And what do you stand for, beast?” he asked bluntly. Decimas was putting no effort or care into any ammount of tact or manners with this one. She had thrown away any hopes of kindness from him the instant she so rudely intruded on their buisness, and even moreso when she began to belittle Cella. “Where is it that you draw your honor? Or your dignity? What do you do that is worth the gift of the life you’ve been given?” the very idea that someone would be so blasé was purely dispicable to Decimas. He couldn’t grasp what point there was in a persons life if they werent working or fighting for something. Without a dream, and without effort put into that dream, a person is no more than the shell of a body they posess.
Decimas knew that Cella would defend him at all costs, and he knew she could hear, or rather feel, that he trusted as much. He knew she would hear him think his thoughts back to hers when he decided to confront the naïve and ignorence intruder to their buisness. He had no desire to assault her or to form any quarrel with her; only have her let them alone to have at their buisness for the night. There was no reason such acareless soul should get involved in the ordeal, and without any use for her himself, the necromancer would simply have to settle for wanting her gone. In all honesty, Decimas didn’t care what was done to this vile minded woman. She was a pathetically low, uninspired discrace to the idea of a dream. A woman with such strength, who wouldn’t take a stand for what she believed; or worse as she was, didn’t so much as settle on a choice. This was too low a life for the necromancer to worry himself over, and he would decidedly leave the outcome of this visit to the loyal warrior at his side.
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Post by Mikïa on May 29, 2006 17:17:00 GMT -5
Before the necromancer even spoke unto her, Mikïa turned to face him. She listened intently to his words and actions as she always did. To her it was important to capture every word or gesture or anything else that was sent towards her. Not only was it of interest to her amusement but it was a matter of respect towards other life, no matter how stupid or arrogant. She simply stood there listening, not replying to a thing he said as he said his words in a manner that told her he was not expecting one for the most part.
After the first section of his speech, the drones started to walk around her, seeming to ignore her very existence. And so, she put the one she had within her grasp down, letting it go free to walk off with the others into the city.
“The woman you see before you now is not the girl you met before.” The words sunk into the depths of her mind as he began to explain them. To her it was rather interesting and and sad all at once, though she never once flintched or reacted in any other way. The things she already knew along with the way the necromancer spoke about Cella made the immortal think that the girl was under mind control. She never did like it when people were forced to do things without their rightfull knowledge. Then again, which was the right side of this girl? So she remained silent for the moment as she did not feel she had complete knowledge on the situation at hand.
It had been a long time since anyone asked her questions of that nature and she took a moment to reflect upon the manner in which she would reply. She placed herself in an erect position now, no longer leaning against the wall. “I stand here today as I have since the dawn of time. I stand here in the servitude of the Lady of Chaos herself, as one of her disciples.” She stated solemnly with a note of pride. “Honor? Dignity? I will never do anything I don't believe is right. So I consider that I have self worth, especially since the Godess of Chaos deemed me worthy of life.”
Once she finished replying she cocked her head to the side once more as she kept looking onto the hooded figure. "And what about you? What do you stand for? What do you wish to accomplish that will make your life worth living?"
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Post by Cella on May 29, 2006 17:52:23 GMT -5
Cella stood there, her lavender eyes seeing all around her, everything, Mikia, Decimas, the hordes of perhaps a goodly 400 or so walking dead and as well, watching the flames that burned a bright orange-purple mix. “Must have been the charms put on it.” She mused out loud, a scientific evaluation perhaps, as she watched the purple flames dance with the orange and reds of the natural fire. Her comment had absolutely nothing to do with the current conversation between the too hard-headed figures that stood at either side of her, the one, a female of sorts, the other her master and to her mind, the only one that really mattered. She turned her head to gaze now upon Decimas, his cloaked figure standing close to her and she allowed her lips to turn up into the semblance of a smile, though something still was not quite right about the Unchained, something was all together different than it was when she had first walked up the wall to begin the Necromancers biding. There was far more power behind those lavender eyes that even still seemed to burn with their own hellish fire beneath. As well, her posture was much more strong, confident even perhaps a bit overwhelming to look at to most. There seemed to be along with her new found energy a certain scent that wasn’t there before, she now seemed to carry with her the scent of fire lilies, a light, pleasant smell that may have gone undetected by the Necromancer at her side, but would certainly capture the attention of the immortal.
“Excuse me, but it would seem that the two of you have entirely different views as to what matters in life. Would it not then be prudent to just accept that you are both correct in your own beliefs and be on your merry way, My master and I have work to do and really don’t have time to converse with anyone at this time. I know that should you, lady, wish to fulfill your curiosity on his beliefs, he would be more than happy to educate you on the right path, at a later date.” She stated, a work of her free will popping up for a moment.
Cella then went silent once more, her lavender gaze moved over to the flames once more, as her face began to move past that of her masters on her way, she inclined her head to him and smile softly, almost lovingly, but then moved on, no longer seemingly paying attention to the two of them, but fixed on the flames, though the Immortal would notice that she continued to not only listen, but learn.
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Post by Mikïa on May 29, 2006 18:28:46 GMT -5
Changes were very noticeable within Cella as time passed. Changes that caught Mikïa's minds eye even though her attention was on the necromancer. But the direction of her attention was soon diverted towards the evil nurse as a delicate scent of fire lilies began to eminate from her.
The immortal stared blankly at her for merely a moment before Cella started to speak unto her. Paying more than regular attention now, Mikïa was scanning for any other sign of her presence. The presence of the one she knew for a fact was there right at that moment.
Cella's words about the necro being able to teach her of the 'right path' were rather ridiculous to her. She knew that only the gods could do that. But then, why did her Lady choose this vessel?
"That's all lovely I'm sure." She started as she took a step towards Cella who was back to what she was doing just moments before. "Do you feel her there within you? Is she speaking thoughts unto you?"
Mikïa knew very well that the Lady of Carnage took any means to speak her messages, even if it meant taking others over or simply speaking through their minds.
Taking a few steps back she looked about them with a smile on her features. A smile that declared to all that they were definately in the presence of Chaos. "My Lady. What are your wishes? Tell me what it is you command of me." If it was really her Lady's words or not, the immortal would know the difference. She did not fear otherwise.
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Lukas
Junior Member
Human/Legacy
Fear the Heathen
Posts: 53
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Post by Lukas on Jun 8, 2006 10:30:37 GMT -5
Her answer was not a spoken command, simply an action.
An explosive one.
Far behind Mikia, beyond the point where the leading zombies had ceased to be discernibly independent beings and had joined together into an off-color mass, came an explosion of violently blue light. Zombies were tossed helter-skelter every which way, most dismembered by the force of the blast. A shouting voice was heard, but its words were lost on the zombie troops as they continued to march forward.
Then, flashes that came in all shapes, sizes, and colors blossomed like fireworks; crimson fireballs, sapphire lightning, flaming red magma, etc. These magical assaults tore the zombie ranks asunder, and even as zombies parted to work around the obstruction, the path of destruction pushed deeper into their ranks, heading straight for Decimas. After a few moments, the sounds of battle reached those standing at the gates; the crackling of energies, sounds of flesh tone asunder, the senseless moans of zombies as their re-life ended abruptly. It seemed as if a team of soldiers, working in conjunction with mages, was fighting to stave off the undead.
However, as the rear ranks of zombie warriors dwindled, it was made evident that it was hardly an army that was ripping through Decimas' horde... merely a man. Enshrouded in his aura-like white cloak, Lukas fought his way through the zombies like a man striding through a drunken ball. Both hands worked busily to keep his enemies at bay, even as a sweep of his staff crushed the skulls of two undead soldiers, a burning needle-thin ray of flame lanced out from the fingertips of his free hand, slicing a group of zombies at the waists, causing them to fall in two sizzling halves.
However, as he grew within site of Decimas, Lukas slowed to a stop, intently staring at the Necromancer and seemingly forgetting that he was still in the midst of a (mostly dwindled) zombie horde. The undead leapt into the air, intent on crushing the Knight between their combined weight. Almost as an afterthought, Lukas raised his free hand and clenched it into a fist, "Супернова" he intoned simply, and white-hot flames erupted from his fist, engulfing his airborne attackers and the rest that lurked about him.
Smoking zombie pieces fell to the ground as he continued his singleminded march towards the Gate. "I see you, Necromancer."
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Post by Cella on Jun 9, 2006 20:11:33 GMT -5
At the first signs of a problem in the outreaches of the zombie masses, Cella was aware, her mind watching the approach of the great Knight, while her eyes focused on the strange un-person who spoke to her in what seemed to be a suddenly respectful manner. The Unchained continued to draw about her even more so in a heightened passion, the knowledge that her mind absorbed like a magical sponge soaking up an entire ocean in less than a second. Her lavender eyes radiated crimson unlike before, they seemed to glow orange beneath the crimson of the Demon in her. When the immortal finished speaking, Cella inclined her head to the woman and opened her mouth to speak, but her words were not her own, her voice seemed far off, and distorted. “You are to remain neutral.” Was all she said, and then the orange that was there vanished, the smell of fire lilies drifted away and Cella then grinned, a most evil grin as her head turned to look at Decimas. “It would seem, you have an enemy my Lord, what is your wish?” She asked Decimas, her crimson eyes flashing, radiating a reddish light through the entire surrounding area, making the moonlight that shown down, seem red, instead of blue.
"I see you, Necromancer."
Those words drifted in her mind and Cella turned to look at the man who foolishly stood not too far from her position and threatened her Lord, her Master. ”And I see you sir Knight.” Cella replied to the man, her thought moving to him rapidly, hitting him with what would be a harsh pain in its strength as it entered his mind.
Cella turned so that she would be looking at the man, she stepped to her right and put herself between Decimas and the Knight, a wicked grin gracing her usual innocent features.
”You might find that it would benefit your health sir Knight, if you walked away now, and did not raise a hand towards my Master, I can not allow you to harm him, I will not allow you to harm him.” She sent, a bit more gently this time as she remained standing as still as any statue in his path to the Necromancer.
The air began to warm, the moon itself instead of merely seeming red, now actually turned red, all light that it showed down blanketing the earth with an eerie red haze. The wind once again began to pick up, blowing a foul smelling breeze through the Karadorian gates, a sort of dead smell, which reeked of rot and decay.
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Post by Decimas on Jun 11, 2006 22:13:37 GMT -5
Decimas had been so nearly insulted by the horrendously ignorent remarks of the abominable creature that his toungue was stayed for a moments delay. He always seemed to have something to say to anything, always confident in his replays without any hesitance, but these comments, these questions of his worth were simply shocking. So awe struck was he that he even blinked his eyes once in wonderment and slowly shook his head at Mikia, not that she would have seen his eyes at all. By the time the necromancer had gathered rational state in his mind, his unchained follower had already come out and spoken for him, telling the abomination of what needed to be done. Decimas felt such an urge to express his reply to the obsured interogation though that he couldn’t help but want to slap the woman silly and open up her eyes to the truth of reality.
As the necromancer was about to explain to the naïve visitor about the value of his life; the war he struggled in to better the world, to forge the future and do what was right, there seemed to be something going on between the two women. As anxious as Decimas was to be so blatantly proud and self rightious, he still had his mind for ambitious curiosity and he could tell there was something important to be learned from what was between the two. This talk of the chaos godess, of the speaking thoughts, and the looks on Cellas face and the feelings he got from her seemed to add up to something that the necromancer wouldn’t mind taking advantage of. This abominably ignorent slave to the worlds darkenned propaganda showed no respect for the master necromancer but she seemed to have some belief in what was coming from the unchained before them. Decimas realised that there was definitely a major alteration in Cellas mind in that moment she spoke back to Mikia, and he knew it wasn’t the girl herself who was doing the talking but he also realised that even in all the other moments of Cellas presence, this other woman would still show her the respect that the necromancer needed to weild for the controling of the situation. He knew all too well that the girl would know he was thinking that, and he didn’t have to tell her anything. The link that the necromancer had with the unchained allowed them the great convenience of flawless communication. For this reason, Decimas knew that Cella would take as full advantage as possible of the respect she could get from Mikia.
The momentary lapse in the girls mind to the possession of the chaos entity did disturb the necromancer however, as it meant to him that someone else could take hold of his followers mind. He would have to make due however, and try to perish the concern to the far reaches of his mind. He never would be able to though, what with his nearly nauseating compulsive paranoia and perfectionism. Despite his great concern though, the necromancer master was soon distracted by the sense sooner than the sight of many walking dead being recklessly flailed into the air nearer the far reaches of the hordes. His armies were being assaulted and Decimas would no sooner disregard the fact than he would allow his dream to slip down the figurative drain. Drawing his runecarved sword from beneath his dark cloak, the necromancer readied the blade with its radiating black magic for a stabbing blow and as an undead marched before him, Decimas drove the evil enchanted blade through the dead mans chest and drove him to the ground, his sword still through him. “Orior oriri ortus denuo quod exsisto validus vos mortuus de silenti etc.” He said, with an almost red glow emitting from the necromancers eyes beneath the unnaturally darkenned hood of his cloak as he knelt over the fallen corpse of the previously undead soldier.
As Decimas stood swiftly and withdrew his blade from the still moaning undeads chest, the dead mans corpse rose up again as if reinvigored with more life than ever before. The mind of the walking dead drone was just as it had been before, but its body grew back its flesh as if reverting the accellerated rotting of the undead enchantment. Though this body was lost to life of the living, it had then been granted more than its share of the lives of the dead and the strength the body held was far more than any living man. The dark and strangely surreal flesh of this creature of death was somehow greater than nature should allow and Decimas swung his sword around again as he spun his torso and plunged the blade through the chest of another undead, speaking those foreign words again and drawing the blade back out again to stand straight up. The dark tendrils from the necromancers mystical sword seemed to stay with the enchanted corpses and give them some superior traits, allowing them seemingly effortless movement and a great resistance to the further magical attacks of the grossly misguided vigilante.
“Knave!” Decimas cried allowed, holding his sword down at his side as he screamed into the air. “Insolent fool!” he further exclaimed, fixing his eyes on yet another of his own troops and driving the necromantic runesword into its chest. Within the time it took for the belligerent knight to come within closer range of the necromancer, he had already driven his sword through and rerisen another half dozen abnormally enchanted undead to his more eagerly pressed cause. This knave had come against the necromancer before, and for whatever reason the ignorent fool had, he was against him yet again. Some people obviously never learned, and those were the kind that Decimas couldn’t stand. There was no chance of ever salvaging such a mans abilities for the betterment of the world if he would continue to be so stubbornly naïve. In such a case as this, the necromancer would have to choose not to avoid the hastle, but would rather have to confront it. The mass hordes of undead would obviously not do the necromancer any good in gaining an advantage over the foolish perpetraitor, but these newly apointed supercorpses of his would surely better resist the knaves attacks as well as hold greater chance of doing damage and so the remaining armies of undead continued marching into the distance to continue their reign of destruction and multiply the forces through and into the city of Karador. Decimas knew though that his greatest tool would have to be the unchained warrior that stood so steadfast and loyal to him and his cause; what an amazing gift she was to the world.
“Leave now, slave of the false prophets.” Decimas said to the vile pest as he drew closer to him and even spoke to the necromancer. “Leave now, or youll not be granted the grace of a prosperous chance at life.” Decimas prefered to avoid such hastles when he could, and he thought that maybe, should this perpetraitor decide to leave at once, there would be less of him to see in the future and everyone would be better off with an easier fought war leading to a swifter victory for the great dream of the necromancer master.
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Lukas
Junior Member
Human/Legacy
Fear the Heathen
Posts: 53
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Post by Lukas on Jun 12, 2006 17:23:12 GMT -5
Lukas took the mental barrage of 'words' with the ease and bravado of a veteran soldier wading through the tides of battle, though the grimace he had on his face betrayed the effort of doing so. At the end of her little tirade, he simply nodded in acknowledgement.
Are you done with your little soapbox, because the grown-ups need to talk now.
A tiny, condescending smile, and then Lukas turned to stare again at Decimas, in time to witness him slaying his own minions... or was he? After each stab, the zombie only got up once again (as much as zombies do), but they looked somewhat...meaner. From the look on Decimas' face, it was clear that this was one of his aces up his sleeve.
With the same, condescending smirk, Lukas merely leveled his staff at the nearest super-zombie and intoned, "Пунш". A burst of kinetic energy, gathered as he fought his way through the lesser undead, burst from the end of his staff and slammed into one of Decimas' greater undead. Like when a flimsy wall after being struck by a bull, the zombie seemed to fold in half around the impact point, punctuated with a loud crunch! of decimated bone. After a long moment suspended in midair, the zombie hit the ground... and did not get up again.
"I've had some rather prosperous moments already, thank you."
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Post by Mikïa on Jun 12, 2006 20:56:57 GMT -5
Her question barely escaped her lips when an explosion was heard and felt behind her in the city. She did not even flinch a muscle, just kept her eyes on the girl as her mind scanned the newly created scene with the zombies. Though it was rather interesting timing, nothing there even reflected anything to come from her Lady. The new arrival to this area was then left in the back of her mind as she kept waiting for a reply from the one whom she felt the presence of Chaos very strongly now.
Even though she had time to do so much in her mind since her last word came forth, not a second had passed when her Lady took control of the dark nurse and spoke unto her, “You are to remain neutral.” In that moment, Mikïa gave the warmest of smiles in Cella's direction, though Cella would of never seen it as it lasted but a moment while the Lady of Carnage spoke. As she finished her simple yet direct sentence, Mikïa bowed her head in acknowledgement to what was asked of her.
She was thankfull for the reply that was given. Not only did she now know what was expected of her, but it fit in very well with what she would of done anyways. She'd be sure to talk to her sister about this the next time she saw her.
The events that were unfolding around her went far from unoticed. Amongst it all was one thing that caught her mind more than anything else. In the stairwell past the brainless hordes and the several raised again units, there was a simple human presence, a scent she knew all too well. She cried out to the quivering male through his mind as he rose his sword to strike at a stronger version of the undead from behind, “Dang it Ady! Why don't you pay attention!?” Her hand shot forward sending him flying through the air at an incredible speed and far away from the area they were all at.
Though Decimas and Lukas may have noticed her hand motion, only Cella could of trully known what happened, only she could know what was done by that motion. And that, only if she caught sight of it. Something that Mikïa did not doubt one bit as she seemed to be gathering everything into her mind. The only thing she could hope now was that the dark nurse would consider her friend as measely and not worth the time to go after or even the mention.
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