TVC - Chapter 42 - Ashes to Ashes

[Trevy the Great]

"Indeed it does, but such is the twisted logic of the von Carsteins. We were prepared to repel a legion of Nagash's troops within the lands of the Border Princes, however as we were poised to deliver the killing blow upon our enemy, the traitorous Carstein forces turned on us to keep us from harming the servants of Nagash. Our forces, depleted as they were by the conflict and irreparably drained by the turn of the Carstein-loyal troops, were routed quickly. We fled here, but were hunted like dogs, so we were forced to stand against them in order to reclaim some measure of honor in death. This news that the Carsteins have inexplicably switched their allegiance again is astounding. While I am sure your servants are loyal, however I still do not believe this news of their eagerness to change sides."

 

[Gree]

‘’Then we shall simply wait and see, if they are truly our enemies then I shall crush them regardless, there is no foe that can stand against the Order of Blood Keep’’ Walach said confidently.

‘’If they are our allies then we shall face the true enemy, either way we shall suceed’’

 

[TMS]

Ashlotte had sat herself down on her knees. Helena had already begun channeling arcane energies to mend her servant, at least to whatever degree she could currently muster.

-"That would depend on both parties involved, in this case the creator. As you yourself have just witnessed and experienced, Nagash would not think twice about exerting oppressive mind control to turn former allies upon each other. If we surrender to him we'll lose not only our independence but our free will as well."

After a brief pause she continued,

-"Furthermore, I have my own apocalyptic theories about what might happen if Nagash were to get free reigns to exert his full power once more. The world would be cast into fear and darkness as he assailed it with countless hordes of undead minions. This will in turn fuel the very essences of the Great Gods of Chaos, urging them to strike while their power waxes strong. Nagash is probably confident in his ability to combat the powers of Chaos but it would not end there - the march of Chaos will surely trigger the ancient inhabitants of faraway Lustria into action. They'd march upon the world and we would all be caught in the middle of this gargantuan conflict. It would be the doom of us all."

Helena stopped there and urged Ashlotte to rise up. She cast a quick glance around the area and up at the skies before turning to Müller again.

-"It seems like the battle has indeed ended in our favour - an unlikely outcome to say the least. Perhaps we should seek out the other members of the Council to regroup?"

 

[Mr Nightwere]

"I would agree with you on that on milady" The pleasant voice of Jason said as he appeared for almost no where, his robes drifting on the wind as he examined the body of Ashlotte and the man in the great coat. He could smell his blood the scent of the wolf hung with him and his eyes revealed the desires in his soul "A werewolf, what a pleasure it is to meet one of your kind" Jason said as he looked into the eyes of Muller, before casting a glance around the battle field for vamperic survivors.

He looked back to Muller giving him a small bow of respect and introducing himself.
"My name is Jason, Jason Nightwere who might your be"
Before turning to Ashlotte and bowing once again before examining her broken neck attempting to do a minor repair to allow her to function enough to get back to the Patisserie so he could give her a proper repair.

 

[Trevy the Great]

Well, it was good that that was over and done with.
Zosz hefted his staff, the arcane energies that he had been channeling through it utterly spent. With the arrival of the Knights of Blood Keep, the necromancer had had the time and spare energy to resurrect the majority of the fallen soldiers of the Council. He also raised many of the fallen soldiers of the von Carstiens. He then decided not to tell them that the soldiers that they had lost were no longer under their control. Of course, with the release of the Necrarch lord's spell it didn't really matter. They were all on the same side now.
Thank goodness for that.
Surveying the battlefield for a last time, Zosz turned and made his way down his solitary hill, past the legions of skeletal warriors, their shattered bones and flayed flesh recently re-knit by the dark magic that Zosz has poured into them, standing dumbly at attention, unmoving, like a forest of freakish wax sculptures from the mind of a crazed artist. Zosz was a crazed artist, and these were his wax sculptures now.
He turned toward the patisserie, this thought warming the cold recesses of his mind, and disappeared again.

"I believe you place too much confidence in your soldiery, Lord Harkon, for they, while powerful, are no great host when killed while sleeping. I will, however, differ to your judgment on this matter." Vekarin said to the other Blood Dragon, "However if there is any further sign of treachery, I will not hesitate to end these fools. I am certain that you understand. Now, do you wish to be introduced to the remainder of the Council? They are no doubt congregating about Lord Todd's ingenious headquarters. I will show you."

 

[Count Erick]

"Burkhard Müller, 'The Vicious'." Said Müller in response to Jason, returning the bow. "And I'm glad of the pleasure you take in meeting one of my kind, for fate may well show that you where one of the last to do so."
He paused for a moment.
"I am the last awakened member of my kind left in the world, and though I shall depart to the north soon to awaken what others I can, it may well be that my race has breathed its last here tonight upon this battlefield, spilling its blood needlessly.It is for this reason that I will fight for you against the forces that so used my kind, if you will bear my company.
As to seeking out the other members, I do not know how well they would receive my summons considering my kind where so recently trying to devour them..."

 

[Knightofni]

Confusion. Uncertainty. Regret. Pain and Anger

All these emotions and more sought to overwhelm Saul’s mind. A multitude of questions crying out to be answered now that the comforting security of that commanding voice had vanished leaving him stood alone amongst a field of death and destruction.

And for what?

It had all seemed so clear just moments ago. Find the Council, Kill them all. The voice had spoken so softly that it seemed as though it were his own thoughts, his own intentions. Perhaps they were.. but if that were so, then why has the voice gone? And who are the Council?

Saul had no answers for either question. More troubling still was the realisation that if the voice was not his then it was someone else’s... someone else who had manipulated his thoughts, twisted his perceptions, and used his skills for a cause that was not his. Anger turned to rage as Saul’s mind found a new word to describe the pain... Betrayal.

And after Betrayal came Revenge. Oh yes... there would be a reckoning for this.

But before he could have his revenge he needed assess the damage. He quickly scanned his field of vision for any incoming threats ... none were forth coming. Good, that’s a start. A sharp spasm of pain across his left side alerted him to the fact that his leather cuirass was rent and torn and three ribs now protruded at a sickening angle from beneath it. He swore loudly.

Grimacing, Saul examined the damage to the cuirass as he removed it, carefully. It was next to useless now, all but shredded down one side. Great. Now he had to find himself some new armour as well. His day was getting better by the minute. With his cuirass removed he could attend to the important bit of pushing his ribs back to where they belonged, he clamped his jaws together to stop himself crying out. He’d never been much of a masochist and that hurt like hell.

To make matters worse, Saul’s grasp of necromancy wasn’t very good so and in his exhausted state he couldn’t summon the energy needed to close the wound. Bloody marvellous. It was going to hurt like bitch for a long while yet. Could this day get any worse? If it could, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He moved gingerly forward to inspect one of the many still ‘dead’ skeletons. More precisely, he wanted to check the integrity of its armour. A nice bit of armour it was too, a cuirass styled similar to his own but this one was made of leather and bronze. A little bit heavier but more durable. Since the skeleton was dead, or more dead than it had been to start with, he decided that he would have that piece of armour.

“Excuse me, kind Sir, would you mind awfully if I borrowed this?”

No response.

Of course there wouldn’t be one. Skeletons are very shy and socially inept, what with them being dead...ish.

At the lack of any meaningful conversation forth coming from the skeleton Saul shrugged.

“Suit yourself” he retrieved the cuirass from the skeleton anyway before turning away, “Some dead people can be so discourteous” The sarcastic humour did little to quench his anger but it did seem to take his mind off the searing pain in his side. He was pleased to note that the new cuirass fit him reasonably well and was not a significantly greater burden to bear.

After refastening his dual scabbards and returning his beloved twin blades to their respective sheaths, he surveyed the battlefield once more. The first thing he noticed was the stench of death and decay, funny.. he thought I hadn’t noticed that before. He chuckled to himself briefly, Great stink of the Badlands .. this place reeks worse than the armpits of an ogre on a hot summers day.

What he saw as he turned his head wasn’t funny. In fact if his heart was still beating it probably would have broken.

Laid out before him were the still warm corpses of a pack of wolves. From Alpha to Pup, each and every one of them pierced by rusted blades, one or two had been brutally beheaded; these once proud creatures had been reduced to a chaos of blood, gristle and bone.

They had heeded his call and followed him into battle. It was an instinctual talent of his bloodline to be able to bind such creatures to their will and Saul prided himself on his ability to do so; but there was no pride now only remorse and hatred. Who ever had brought him here by a power that he dared not even think about had used his bloodline’s power over these creatures to call them to do a cowards bidding. And they had answered the call.

All of their lives had been expended for nothing, commanded to do so through him by another person’s will. Remorse became anguish.

But hate was too weaker word for what he felt towards that coward now. To callously disregard the lives of those who could not choose for themselves was ... unspeakable. Saul had no words left in his vocabulary to describe the emotions that now coursed through his veins.

He inclined his head to the heavens and unleashed a feral roar. A roar of Anguish. A roar of Fury. A roar of Hatred. A roar of Vengeance. A roar that screamed out at the skies...

“The Hunter was coming .. and he was coming for Blood”


OOC: Sorry about the length .. got a bit carried away.

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

A flash of light heralded the appearance of the Master Blade into Lesa's right hand, her Lahmian blood allowing her to react with astounding speed. With a flick of her wrist it spiralled high into the sky above her, a strange swishing noise as it cut through the air. Though the dark lightning was magical, it still could not deny its nature and its course changed, arcing towards the spinning metal.

Below Lesa was now weaponless, but to one of her age weapons were merely toys. Her whole body was a weapon, inhuman strength flowing through her corrupt veins. She may not have had the skill of a Blood Dragon, but she was still far stronger than mewling spirits or pathetic lesser deamons.

"You vastly underestimate me Necrarch," she sneered, her form blurring as she moved, white hot flames from the Tzeentch daemons scoring the ground where she had stood moments before. Suddenly the spirits howled in pain as Lesa's hands clawed through them, encased in gloves of azure magic. The speed at which she attacked was breathtaking, reducing her enemies to ethereal shreds in seconds. Now left with only the daemons to face Lesa held up her hand, directing the falling sword back to her grasp. It still glowed hot from the lighting strike but otherwise it was unharmed, the dwarf forged blade proving to be as resilient as always. Ignoring the blistering of her hand she struck left, then right, the enchanted sword cutting through the Flamers like a hot knife through butter. A last ditch retaliatory attack burnt her side and thigh badly before she managed to destroy the last deamon.

Again the two faced one another, watching, waiting.

"I have had enough of this game," Lesa finally whispered, lowering her head as if in defeat, the Master Blade disappearing once more. For a second V'azrin could have almost believed she had given up, until he felt the winds of magic roar around them. Lesa's head snapped up as she finished the incantation, eyes glowing. A unearthly scream rent the air as raw power flowed into her body, not just one one ribbon, not just a spell, but pure unadulterated power. V'azrin could only watch as he saw the fine strands of the magic Lesa had used to combine the different winds, as he saw the changes to his foe.

Her body spasmed as strength flowed through her, veins wriggling like black snakes under her pale skin, veins bulging with unholy might of the beasts. The once raven black hair flared outwards, rippling like liquid, its colour now the same as molten gold. Overhead the heavens responded to their mistress, the dark lighting being purged once more and striking with abandon. As the transformation finished her eyes lowered, to look at V'azrin once more, her green eyes now lit by an emerald fire.

Slowly her form rose, propelled upwards by a stream of inky darkness. Raising her hands as if to catch the lighting that was crashing down Lesa spoked another word of power and the clouds above were ripped apart as if by a giants hand. A blinding light filled their vision which V'azrin recognised as a cleansing flare, yet the crippling pain he had expected never materialised. Shielding his eyes as it died away, the site that greeted him sent a thrill of fear into him. Somehow Lesa had collected the raw power, condensing into an orb that rested in her hands. Even to normal sight it thrummed with power, and to his mage vision it was truly horrific.

"Now you die!"

Throwing her hands forwards the orb exploded, a immense beam of light energy smashing into V'azrin. The mountaintop beneath cracked before finally giving way, shattering as the beam drilled V'azrin deep into the mountain.

OOC: That DBZ enough for you Gree?

 

[Lord of Ravens]

"I still have a few friends amongst the Blood Knights, but Walach himself is not overly fond of me," explained Peter. "I still carry the sword he gave when the Keep fell. In fact I am surprised he has not sent men to try and reclaim it. You see when Walach fought alongside Konrad, he did not like the fact I had developed my skills with magic."

Peter gazed across at Walachs army. He recognised a few faces even from this distance, men he had know from before he was sired. But would they remember him. And even if they did, would they view him as a traitor for turning away from Walach's teachings.

"Perhaps Walach will forgive me and welcome me back into the fold. But then again, he holds a grudge like a dwarf."

 

[Gree]

'' I see, I’ve met Walach before briefly, I hope he shall hear your case’’ Mircea replied gazing off into the distance. He narrowed his eyes.

‘’It’s over nine thousand’’ he commented.

‘’Hmmmmm?’’ Peter questioned.

‘’It’s over nine thousand skeletons lost by now, I’ve seen that Walach has stopped his attack now, that is the amount of skeletons I have lost to his charge so far, what did you think I meant?’’ he asked.

‘’Nothing’’ Peter answered.

‘’So do you want to go over and meet Walach or should we withdraw? I’ve already withdrawn most of my troops form the field’’

 

[Get of W'soran]

Lesa looked down expecting to sense the small pulse of energy that surrounded V’azrin to vanish with his destruction after the blast.
But this did not occur.
Instead she felt a build up of power was drawn from the winds of magic; the beam of bright energy was suddenly pushed back towards the Lahmian by a beam of Darkness of the same size as its light counterpart.
A vicious smile was fixed upon the Necrarchs withered features as V’azrin began to glow with a dark aura as his own spell forced his opponents back towards her.
“I think not Lesa!” he spat over the loud humming of the arcane.
For his own part V’azrin was filled with a twisted joy, he had not unleashed such power for many years and neither had he faced a mage of this calibre an equal period of time.
“I’m sick of hiding my power from the council! At last I shall be able to fully show my talents!” he yelled.
The beam of Dark energy suddenly began to pulse as sparks of purple energy jumped from V’azrin’s spell.
The entire mountain was washed in Dhar; creatures of a Dark Nature could sense the power for many miles around as the two magi clashed.
V’azrin evoked a second spell causing himself to rise from the crater he had been smashed into only moments before, he grimaced slightly as he flexed his fingers that had been burnt when Lesa’s attack first struck.
After a short time he landed lightly on an area of undamaged ground upon the mountaintop.
Shifting his weight he pushed his right arm out to full length and retracted his left hand from the spell, for a moment Lesa’s spell began to overwhelm the Necrarch’s.
Frowning V’azrin began an incantation flicking out his left hand, hurling a disk of purple energy at the vampiress.
The Necrarch threw his left hand back into pushing forth the Dark energy beam against Lesa’s bright beam.
The shadowy energy slowly pushed the light energy back towards Lesa as a violet arcane disk sliced through the air towards the Lahmian.
Counter that Lesa! he thought to himself, taking a perverse joy in seeing the Lahmian stretch her wizarding abilities further than she had perhaps ever done so.

 

[Lord of Ravens]

"Let's go down to Walach. It is best to get my meeting with him over and done with before it begins to effect the Council as a whole," said Peter." We really can not afford any more set backs."

Peter summoned Firehoof with his mind. The Nightmare trotted over to him. What the creature did when Peter was not riding him was a mystery to the Blood Dragon. He assumed that Firehoof simply ate grass like any other horse. Then again, he was an undead horse, so he could have been eating just about anything. Maybe best not to enquire to much, thought Peter to himself.

"I assume you do not mind if I ride?" he asked Mircea, "After our little tussle I am in no fit state to walk."

With his he kicked Firehoof into a canter, and set off towards Walach.

I wonder what Vekarin is talking to the Grand Master about, Peter asked himself.

As Peter approached the Blood Knights, Walach's bodyguard drew their swords. Upon recognising him, some smiled, clearly glad to see their old friend still alive. However others glowered at him. One even spat on the ground as he passed.

Peter's raven, long absent from his shoulder, returned to him, gliding over the heads of the Vampire Knights.

"Where have you been old friend," he whispered to it.

Peter approached Walach and Vekarin and dismounted. He almost collapsed from the pain of his wounds but he knew that to show any weakness now would be fatal. He gritted his teeth and kneeled before Walach.

"Lord of Blood Keep, it has been a long time," said the renegade Blood Dragon.

 

[Drog_Manslayer]

"Letz git goin, boyz." The huge Warboss says to his not so living boyz. The creatures shrug huge shoulders as they regain their mounts. "We'ze gonna go back to da tribe an' git dem.. Den we'ze goin ta da 'old. Gotz ta talkz ta an ol' mate."

One of the now undead boyz actually responds. "Aaaaaaaahhhhhh! gurgle" Ok.. Not really much of a response. More of a coicidence really, that its random noise making would come out at a time that would be appropriate for a response."

"Wotz dat, Fingy?" The Bloodymaw says to the "responding" boy. "'oo iz it I'z gun ta talkz ta? Yooz will find out. Now gitz movin! WAAAGH!"

And the huge Warboss spurs his mighty Battle Boar, Muffin, onwards, followed by his Zomboar Riding Boyz.

 

[TMS]

Thanks to Helena's restorative magicks and Jason's rudimentary field repairs, Ashlotte's neck could finally be fixated into its original position which allowed her at least some control over her own head. She rose to her feet and turned to face Jason, upon which Helena said,

-"I'm most glad to see that you're safe and sound, master Jason. How grievous have the Council's losses been? I hope that the errant von Carsteins didn't have time to cause more damage than can be recouperated."

She then turned to Müller,

-"You're right that some of the council members might hold your previous actions against you but to dismiss your aid because of that would be folly - the entire von Carstein bloodline fell to the very same spell that your kind did. Now more than ever can we not afford to fall to bickering and accusations. Follow with us to the Council and we'll vouch for you." she said, with a nod to Jason.

 

[Knightofni]

He could feel the beast within straining against its chains. The burning hatred that ran through Saul's hollow veins like molten lava was fueling the beasts struggles; its cries to be unleashed echoed around his conciousness. He had always tried to keep the beast locked away, deep within the recesses of his tainted soul; but now more than ever it clawed nearer to the surface, its bestial fury infusing his limbs with a renewed strength.

A lone wolf howled in the distance, acknowledging Sauls' own cry. He listened for a moment, savouring the sound of the wolf.

If the Hunter was coming for blood then it seems the wolves would be coming with him. But what to do next? He could not exact revenge on a faceless enemy, nor had he any hope of knowing who the faceless enemy really was. Unless.. Unless he tracked down the unknown 'Council'. Yes .. the Council, they would know who this faceless enemy was..

With his new-found strength flooding his body, Saul turned and set off in search of the mysterious Council. They would know the answers to his questions, and they would know who was responsible for this atrocity.

Then they would point him in the right direction ... and get the hell out of his way.

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

Lesa was shocked to her very core that V'azrin had not been annihilated by the catastrophic power she had unleashed on her, even more that he had countered her with immense power of his own. As the Dhar energy crept closer she poured more Azyr into her own attack, ignoring the pain she felt as the pure magic roared through her corrupted body. The light slowly began to push back against the dark, a ball of swirling energy beginning to congeal where the opposed magics fought against one another.

Though the attack was taking more strength and skill than she had ever used, Lesa knew she still had more to give, enough to surge through V'azrin's counter and destroy him. There was one thing stopping her though, and it was coming flying towards her now, buzzing like a hellish insect. Coruscating with power the disc sliced effortlessly through the air, ignoring any of Lesa's attempt to dispel it. There was too much magic in this place now to cuts its ties to the ether, the only way was to destroy it.

The only problem was that Lesa knew as soon as she attempted to cast a spell of her own to counter, V'azrin would take advantage, and if he managed to overpower the result would be final. Casting her eyes around she swiftly thought back to basics and remembered one important rule. Conjuration whilst powerful, was draining. However manipulation was using something that was already there, and therefore............

The already shaky ground beneath the two shifted for a moment, creaking and cracking until a a fountain of rocks spewed upwards. Holding the beam in one hand, Lesa made a grasping gesture with her left, forming the granite pieces into a form that mimicked her. Fingers each as long as a man flexed, stone joints grating against each other. Suddenly it lashed out, striking out at the disc that had nearly reached its target. There was an earsplitting shriek as spell cut into the hard rock, gouging a furrow its massive knuckles before ricocheting off.

Though she had managed to defend herself, Lesa had not fully managed to keep up the sustained force to her beam, and she could feel the darkness slowly starting to crawl back to her, inch by inch. Even worse, as she flexed her left hand she could tell its stone counterpart was heavily damaged, its stone unable to hold upto the biting edge of the disc. Through her magical senses she knew it was slowing swinging back round for another attack, and for once she seemed at a loss what she could do. For a moment she was tempted to simply throw everything she had in one last blast, but there was a risk it would kill her and not V'azrin, and that was a risk she was not willing to take. No yet.

Swallowing she felt the taste of Dhar strongly on her tongue, the bitterness suddenly stirring a memory. She smiled as a solution came to her, though the risk was perhaps almost as bad as her other alternative. There was no time however to think twice, and so she closed her eyes and put her plan in motion.

With a crunch the stone fingers closed around the violet disc, imprisoning it with its immovable grasp. Its screech of protest could be heard over the roar of magic as it started to eat its way through the rock, but Lesa hoped it would hold long enough, just long enough for help to arrive.

********************************

Miles away, on a battleground that was devoid of life, the dust started to stir. Only recently the poor land had suffered as the creatures that plagued its surface had fought each other. Deadly spells had opened grievous wounds, engines of destruction has speared it through, and in its centre was crater deep enough to have broken into the vast underground caverns.

It was in here the dust moved more strongly, particles of darkness slowly pulling themselves from the grains of mud and rock. The swam in the air, seemingly in random patterns, but if a person was to move away and look at them from a distance it was plain to see they were all part of one plan. Dancing in the air the funnelled upwards, drawn by the one mind strong enough to command them. Though far away the task was made easier by the way the winds of magic were being drawn to their destination. Like sailors caught in rapids they were dragged along , bounced back and forth, but always moving closer.......

*******************************

Something was happening. V'azrin could sense that much. He has expected the power he was drawing to attract certain creatures, daemons or other such things that flitted to magic like a moth to flame. But this was something else, something almost familiar.

Biting her lip until she tasted her own blood, Lesa fought with all her might. The disc was nearly free of its prison, the darkness had nearly reached her, and she could almost feel deaths cold grasp upon her. She could sense her salvation drawing closer, ironically carried all the faster by V'azrin's own choice of magic. Suddenly a screech was heard as the disc finally broke free, racing forward to complete its deadly task. Eyes closed, Lesa waited for an end that never came.

A roar sounded through the air as the shadows swirled upwards into seven orbs of darkness. Suddenly they collided with one another, the darkness surging outwards to blot out the little light there was. Slowly the coalesced into the form of Lesa's massive shadow dragon, the body of the ancient dragon it had merged with crashing onto the ground next to the duelling vampires. With an almost contemptuous blow it shatter the disc before it could harm its Mistress, before turning its smouldering gaze to V'azrin. As the titanic monstrosity toward high above them, Lesa sealed her control on her beast, before with a surge of power she pushed back the darkness once more.

 

[Zaak the Uncanny]

With a triumphant if mournful cacophany of magical overtures, the battle came to an end. The battlers realized they were on the same side once more, and ceased their squabbling. Zaak lowered his blade, but did not sheathe it. On edge and overstimulated, he swiftly wolfed down the mysterious pastry air-mailed to him. Tasting fresh blood, he reveled in it for a moment as he felt his body rejuvenated and refreshed.

Remembering his reptile discovery, he snagged a zephyr of Uglu and twisted it to his will. It momentarily escaped him, putting him in serious peril, but he managed to grasp control of it once more and direct it as he willed. He was suddenly coated in smothering darkness, before disappearing.

Some distance away, he rematerialized nearby the fallen Lizard. As his attendants swarmed to his side, he circled the unconscious beast. Making astute internal judgments, his eyes flickered over his steed and his weaponry. On a whim, he decided that he would keep this creature - who knew, perhaps he could be useful. He certainly looked strong.

Ensuring that the beast was still fully unconscious, Zaak motioned for the Coven to assemble a cage of sorts. A cube large enough to fit the beast, was erected from metallic odds and ends from the Carriage. As Zaak began to enchant the half-finished coop, he had the reptile moved into the cage. Not really knowing what to do with the steed, he removed all its saddlebags and threw it within the cage as well. As he completed his preliminary enchantments for strength and wholeness, he began to work on something to keep him within.

From some dark inspiration, he resolved to treat the cage with two elements. Firstly, he laid over an electrical enchantment, turning it into a conduit for Azyr. Borrowing some strength from the Coven, he used the ever-flowing wind to electrify the bars - should either reptile touch the bars, they would be in for a nasty shock indeed. However, that alone was likely to be insufficient to withhold such a bestial creature, so a second enchantment was laid. Zaak affixed trinkets, gemstones and other items known to call the wind of Azyr, for he needed it for the second enchantment also, with a greater flow, he diverted some into the form of a numbing cold. Not enough to keep the lizards asleep, but enough to sedate them.

Nodding as the cage was completed, Zaak finished the enchantment and cleared away some snow. Crouching down, he watched as the slumbering Lustrians slowly awoke. Behind him, the saddlebags and exotic equipment lay mostly dormant.

 

[Get of W'soran]

V’azrin was still grinning even as the dragon loomed above him; he allowed Lesa’s power to continue against his for a few moments unchallenged.
The Necrarch’s gaze from the monstrous shadow beast then back to Lesa as he formulated his plan and as he came to a conclusion he sent a quick telepathic message towards the Lahmian
“You may be skilled…you may be powerful…but your limited by undeath, limited as all of us are…let me show you why the Necrarchs reign supreme over the magical realm of the undead…let me show you just why you belong to the wrong line Lesa.”
V’azrin threw back his head and did what only the disciples of W’soran could do, why they made the greatest of necromancers.
The Necrarch opened himself up the Dhar filling the air around him, he breathed it in, drank it, fed on it, it was to him as the drinking of Blood was to the other bloodlines.
Revitalising energy washed through the vampire, his flesh began to wither even more than before and his eyes began to glow brightly with Dark Balefire.
V’azrin grinned even wider, with his new found energy he could divert his attention from holding of Lesa’s beam…indeed he could even push her own light power back against the tiring Lesa.
Reciting the incantation from his own invented magical lore, formulating the words of a Pale Order spell of his own invention, the spell was aimed directly at the Shadow Dragon above him.
The spell swirled around the Dragon but it was not of the normal destructive type from the dark magic arsenal instead it drew the arcane energy from the beast, absorbing the power that made the beast exist.
Allowing the spell to continue V’azrin turned his full attention on Lesa, he turned his gaze upon the Lahmian and even from the long distance he stared straight into her eyes. V’azrin then poured his entire Dark Magic into pushing against her, as he did so his smile began to fade
“You repulse me. You are nothing by a grovelling worm living the shadow of somebody greater than you, a hideous creature that is just as disgusting to look upon as it is to be in your company, and I will take the greatest pleasure in ridding this world of your existence.” a familiar voice whispered into his mind
The Necrarchs expression became one of fury as he gritted his teeth, anger flooding through him at the memory but a second thought invaded his mind, this one worst than before…more painful and hateful.
The beautiful woman took a hesitant half step backwards, her eyes dropping from V’azrin’s own.
"I am so sorry," she had whispered, "I had no idea that you.......that I was leading you to think....that...."
V’azrin grimaced and began to throw not only his magical power into the Dark Energy beam but also his cold fury, half-buried feelings and bitter hurt.

 

[Fishhead Slackjaw Mcgee]

Heavy eyelids began to part, an effort in itself. It was cold, still very cold, but not cold enough to send Huakroataxa back to the dreamless stygian depths he had just arisen from.
His first thought was that the temperatur was suspiciously steady; no gusts of wind, no rising or falling.
His second thought was that he was still alive. Fools! In their arrogance, the vampires had allowed him to survive; their mercy would not be repaid...

"No...NO....NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
The warrior bellowed in absolute fury at his undignified position, before hurling himself at the bars. Attempting to rend them open, the crackling and popping and burning pain was too much, much to much for him. He passed in and out of consciousness several times, his arms unable to move; the electrical pulses were causing his nerves to bind to the bars in a vice like grip. Gritting his many carniverous teeth, Huakroataxa managed to force out the command
"About...Face..."

At once he was thrust off the bars by a heavy reptillian tail as Xalot Obdiently spun on the spot, bruising the scar-veterans ribs. He sluggishly dragged himself to his feet, realising that his armour and all other equipment had been taken from him.

His brain must have been working slower as well, for he should have foretold what was about to happen next. Xalot took one lookat the bars, before headbutting them with all his might. Screeching in pain, he tried again. And again, before Huakroataxa physically forced him to stop.

He watched the vampire almost soil himself laughing, and crouched down in dejection. Such shame! Not only had he failed to kill the mosntrosities, he was also now their toy, their plaything! Like a skink's pet possum he was stuck here, in a cage that bearly bore both him and his mount. Such shame, such shame...

A thought. Before utter despair over came him, a thought passed through his head. His saddle bags were out there, and appeared to have been untouched by the undead abominations. He pulled himself to his feet, and his eyes grinned in ways he knew no warmblood, not even one without a pulse, would ever understand.

You have a loose winged crypt python, oh enemy of my heart. I hope he feasts on you.

 

[Mr Nightwere]

Jason nodded to Ashlotte and looked towards the blood knights, who were gathering on the battle field a small distance away. Peter walking through them swords drawn and staring into peter as through he was a mortal enemy the three moved over towards them Ashlotte limping as oil leaked from the damages she had sustained in the battle. An uneasy feeling crept into Jason as he walked through the blood dragons, blades ready to slice through Jason.

He cared not, he could have easily lodged his own blade into there hearts in fact he felt his grip tighten on the hilt of his enchanted blade and seriously contemplated it to merely prove a point, if not for the precise fact that they were for the most part, part of the council and that was a bond to Jason just as any other. Besides he didn't wish the knightly order to have a vendetta against him, he looked towards the center of the group, seeing Walach armored in crimson red armor and looking down on Peter who was kneeling before him. He turned a sharp glance to Jason, Jason responding with a small bow which obviously aggravated the blood knight.

 

[Gree]

Walach looked at Peter for a few moments, scrutinizing him as he recognized the man’s face.

‘’Peter von Krathe, you have a lot of nerve meeting with me after all these centuries, I have not seen you since the Fall of Blood Keep’’ Walach rushed the last part out, ignoring the painful memories.

‘’I have alos heard many stories about you over those long centuries, and I cannot tell you that I enjoy some of them, tell me, are any of them true?’’

 

[Belladamma Voltaire]

Licking his lips in anticipation, Valda finally saw the opening he needed. Raising his hand, he heard the unified click of several hundred crossbows ready to pepper the battlefield below them. Turning his head so his right eye saw the assembled Dark Elves, he cleared his throat, lifted his hand and yelled in the vile druchii tongue.

"FIRE!"

As the sky blackened with the sight of crossbow bolts, Valda watched as they burst into flame. Behind the troops the Seven Forgotten Warriors were chanting in unison. Their words filling the reign of arrows with magical fire. A full regiment of Grave Guard fell to the ground from the bolts. Blasping the necklace around his neck, Valda closed his eyes as the Legion of Forever appeared infront of the Dark Elf forces. Without a word they glided forwards into the forces of Nagash, trampling all before them.

Valda smiled a wicked smile, these fresh forces would turn the tide for him. He yelled again.

"Fire at will."

As he did, another shower of firey bolts landed, followed the the crashing of lances as the Legion of Forever hit the fray. Valda saw their destruction and was pleased, as only he could be.

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

Lesa didn’t know how much longer she could go on for. It was plain to see that in their previous encounters the Necrarch had hidden much of his strength and skill, they way he was manipulating the Dhar was little short of godly. In her life Lesa could only name but a few that had been superior, Nagash was among them. The dragon was already weakening as V’azrin’s spell rapidly drained its magical life source, but it was far from finished yet.

With a roar it spewed forth a poisonous black vapour that spread like rot towards V’azrin, its touch destroying any plant life in its path. Even to one as powerful as he, the vapour was death and the Necrarch was forced to conjure a black barrier that sealed him safely within its darkness. Feeling her foes concentration split for a moment, Lesa pushed forth her advantage, bloody sweat running past her eyes as unimaginable power funnelled through her body.

An almighty smash echoed around the mountaintops as the shadow dragons claws slammed down on the tiny sphere, attempting to crush the life out of the V’azrin. Again and again it struck, but the barrier held strong. With each strike Lesa could feel the power into V’azrin’s beam going weaker as he diverted precious energy to protect his own life, yet it was too little too late. Finally reaching a critical point the dragon started to unravel, its life source being devoured by the Necrarch. Likewise as the assault on him stopped, V’azrin lowered his barrier and faced Lesa for one last time.

”Whilst this has been fun, I tire of this game. It is time to join your love,” he said, spitting the last word venomously. Throwing his hands forward he threw all his power into one last push.

She could not fail. She would not fail. Everything that he had done to her, to Milosh. All the lies, and the deceit. She had truly thought of him as a friend and now……..
The Azyr beam pulsed stronger as it was fuelled by Lesa’s anger, so bright that she had to close her eyes. The area around the two was rapidly becoming unstable as the power generated by the two gave off devastating shockwaves. Rocks cracked, trees snapped under the arcane tempest, and at the centre the ball of colliding forces swelled to dangerous levels.

“I will be with my love very soon, but not before I have reduced you to a pile of ash” Lesa’s thoughts forcefully hammered into V’azrin’s mind, “you will never overcome me, as you never managed to do in the past. Because you have no passion, because you have nothing to fight for, because you have never experience love in that rotten heart you will loose.”

 

[Get of W'soran]

V’azrin began to form a venomous reply when he remembered his previous battle with the Lahmian from within his tower

“This is true power girl!” he had laughed effortlessly weaving in more magic, but to his surprise this had not seemed to provoke the reaction he had expected, instead a serene air seemed to settle over Lesa before she answered calmly,
“It is power, tremendous power but you will always be limited V’azrin” she said and as she did the light seemed to pulse softly.
“You are too consumed with study, with death that you have no room for passion, for the love of life, for the need to just do something now and not put if off because you are immortal, it is the reason why mortals can gain such power in their short life and it is the reason why mine surpasses yours!” she had told V’azrin causing him to sneer.
Lesa had then drew upon the secret to her powers, love, its blinding light filled the Child of W’sorans vision before the terrible burning pain wracked his body, surprised he had took a step back before with an effort that robbed most of his energy he had managed to deflect the magic.

V’azrin shook his head frowning as he remembered the incident.
Love?
He had always through such was a mortals concern but recent events with the council had changed his mind…
For the love of Vekarin they had risked entrapment into the realm of death itself.
Did Simon not love Sariah deeply?
The love of Lesa and Milosh was heavily evident in this very battle.
V’azrin felt his frown deepen
Could he possibly love? Feel Passion?
The answer came all too easily…

Looking up at Lesa V’azrin spoke directly to the Lahmian’s mind
”You are wrong Lesa his voice whispered.
The voice was followed by a series of images floated before Lesa’s mental eye
Lesa found herself starting at her Love Milosh
"Not at all," Milosh said
"You have already given so much, and I assure you that the books you seek will be returned and of course you have our trust and friendship." he continued this memory was followed by a feeling of emotional warmth before it faded away.
Lesa blinked realising she was seeing the images from V’azrin’s mind, from the Necrarch’s point of view.
A second memory shot into her mind soon after the first
Lesa looked around realising she was again in the Battle of Sylvania, fighting against Mannfred and next to her stood herself, for a moment she felt confused until she remember that she saw all of this from the Necrarch’s viewpoint.
She truly is wonderful
The thought shot through Lesa’s mind as she stared upon her memory-self and she felt herself feeling the remembered passion V’azrin had felt as he had stared upon her.
The memory faded away until a third appeared
She once again stood beside a memory of herself feeling utterly content although she was aware this was the Necrarchs remembered feelings and not her own.
Suddenly the feeling of contentment was replaced by one of thrilling fear as she looked upon her memory-self. Suddenly she felt surprise; this remembered-Lesa was even more beautiful that she really was.
The memory faded and was replaced by one a few moments later
"I am so sorry," the remembered-Lesa whispered, "I had no idea that you.......that I was leading you to think....that...."
Lesa felt V’azrin’s remembered pain, it was utterly unbelievable how much hurt she felt at the remembered rejection.
The memory faded away.
V’azrin spoke once more into Lesa’s mind
“You see…I did Love you and that is why I shall not lose.”


V’azrin’s black beam began to pulse with purple energy and pushed Lesa’s own attack backwards, it seemed to absorb the very light from the Lahmian’s magic.
V’azrin felt the new emotion wash through him, the remembered hurt, the remembered pain but also the time he had spent with Lesa, the better times.
And as he felt this he also realised just how right Lesa had been.
Instead of reaching out for his power he reached in and found himself able to grasp strength he had never thought he could possess and yet it seemed he had had it all along.
With a final arcane effort V’azrin’s beam tore through Lesa’s pushing aside her own offense, the blast struck the Lahmian flinging her through the air and off the mountain and as the Necrarch’s attack was unleashed now unopposed it tore the entire mountaintop to bits apart from one small section, the one which the caster stood.
V’azrin slumped his shoulders and glanced over to the edge of the mountain
”Time to finish this.” he murmured before teleporting to the bottom.


V’azrin stood over the unconscious form of Lesa; he grimaced seeing how her body was broken, bones bent in every direction as he vampiric healing fused bones the wrong way.
At least she’s still solid a voice whispered in his mind causing him to grimace once more, the though almost making him heave.
Raising his hand to point at Lesa V’azrin summoned dark energy, it came easily flowing through the immortal mage, and for a moment he held his summoned sword of shadow ready to kill Lesa, to grant her the final death.
V’azrin lowered the sword allowing the magic to dissipate, sighing he shook his head
“I can’t do it.” he murmured.
Suddenly the Necrarch broke out laughing it was all just too much.
After all he had been through, all the work he had done…the planning…the scheming…the manipulation and now he couldn’t even finish it, finish the one vampire on the council that would probably be a deciding factor against Nagash.
V’azrin sighed reaching into his robes, withdrawing a small replenishment potion…just enough to stop the vampiress from dying from pure magical exhaustion and leaning down he sat it down beside her. With another sigh V’azrin kissed Lesa’s forehead lightly and smiling bitterly he whispered
“I do love you...and…and I am sorry.”
Straightening up V’azrin turned and strode off.

 

[Knightofni]

He walked for what seemed to him like an age, his eyes seeing only the scattered debris from the battle. Vast swathes of the landscape were covered in the irreparably damaged dead; the true scale of the conflict here was daunting. Saul could only imagine the kind of magical power that was needed to control the immense legions of dead that had clashed here, and the thought that such power could exist scared him. And that the people that could wield this power has used it to cause this; that thought brought more bitterness to the surface and intensified his desire for revenge. Somebody would pay for this.

A gleam of red right on the edge of his vision attracted the attention of his keen eyesight. Blood Knights. His consciousness spoke with a tone mingled with scorn, apprehension and, if he was honest, a bit of grudging respect. They were creatures of legendary skill and an even more legendary arrogance. Saul had been unfortunate enough to encounter a weapon-master of the Blood Keep once before and was barely lucky to escape with his life; to actually fight a Blood Knight with life and death resting on a blade was to die. But for all of their revered skill at arms they had an arrogance to match, and a belief that they are superior to all others in combat. That did not sit well with Saul. Bastards...

As he focused more on the red whore-sons, he noticed that they were accompanied by others; not of their like. Since neither party were fighting he figured they must be non-hostile.. if such an expression could be applied to the Blood Knights. Maybe this group of vampires would be of use in his search for the ‘Council’ .. then again maybe they won’t .. but since I have no other leads to follow, there’s only one way to find out. He slipped one of his trusty blades out of its scabbard; feeling the cool snakeskin grip against his skin, a familiar comfort. He wasn’t about to approach the sons of Walach without a sword in his hand, that would be folly indeed... an invitation to get killed.

And he had no intention of doing that.

He closed the gap between himself and the potentially volatile group of Knights slowly. Always cautious. His instincts were telling him to walk away.. that this quest for revenge that he now found himself upon would lead him only to destruction.. His. But his blood was up and the beast within would not allow him peace until blood had been spilt. So he walked onwards... hopefully to some answers.