Embedded Files
By Nir, Crelius, Kelthas, Verra, and Isadore
They had told me of the darkness. I had seen the darkness. I had been in the darkness.
But now my eyes were beginning to adapt.
I wandered these halls of this nameless, ancient Keep, looking at it differently than I had when I was young. Ha! When I was young. What, a month ago. I am still young. But now... Well, now things are different.
The crypts below the Keep, soundless and ancient in that near impenetrable darkness that reeked of decay and death, screamed silently of untold mysteries. How many of these honored heroes had known, before they died, what they truly represented? I passed by the tombs of Lord Vette, Yang, Drakkon, the empty tomb of Maven, of Diamante, of Vokkyn, of Saravhana, of Zendus. I ran my fingers along the sarcophaguses of Ibix, Praxsis, Vaksyne, Retshae.
Honored heroes, representing the true ideals of Eclipse. How many of them knew? How many of them kept silent their whole lives and kept so very quiet now?
Vincus had been at work in the library for days. He had not slept, I don't believe. It was a mess. The books were everywhere, the Codex, supposedly indecipherable, containing the darkest of magic's, the deepest of secrets, being translated before my very eyes as I aided him in his scribing. He had not even flinched at his promotion to Keeper long enough to distract him from his ceaseless work. He was possessed.
And frankly, so was I.
My mind could not even remain on such displeasing matters as my affair with the Prince, nor my foretold ascension. This thing was too important.
"They are wrong when they said that it is the time for change. " I had said, amidst the tombs inside these crypts.
"You are right, my sister," came Vincus' voice from the darkness, laying the Codex atop a tomb. "I'm starting to believe that they haven't changed at all. "
The sun always sets, and all torches expire. The sun can be hidden by something simply closer. All we wanted to get were answers.
I don't think we were ready for -this-. Answers that we were not prepared for.
It seems to me that I kept dreaming, perhaps they were nightmares, of a certain scene within the catacombs that I knew now must become a reality. Whether it was truly prophetic, or self-fulfilling prophecy, is not entirely relevant now.
"Keep the circle! " would cry a voice as a barrage of dark wind assaulted the four priests surrounding the tomb. "Dae not let it break! "
The codex's pages fluttered violently, I remember that noise so crystal clear. The faint blue glow of ethereal substance swirled in a vortex and formed into the figure before us. The figure slowly look around, accepting, as the dead do, their fates.
"It appears... " stated the woman's voice, "that I have been summoned from my rest. " I would always awaken at this point, to unearthly screams, and visions of tortures like I had never imagined. This was the price we would pay for forgetting. Some secrets are meant to be remembered, and deals which have been made should never be forgotten. If only we could resurrect Targetter himself, but he was beyond our reach.
Waking again to screams, in the library, my own screams. Vincus looked up from his work, at the desk where I had fallen asleep at, exhausted completely from our searches. We vainly wished another way, but time was running out.
"Sister? " He said in his quiet manner.
"The dream again. It's inevitable... The other ways take too much time. Lord Crelius is running out, Nir has disappeared, Gods know what was going through his mind... The dementia is setting in, I fear I too might be catching it. "
Vincus frowned and nodded quietly. "Seek out Isadore. He's the obvious choice to complete the circle of four. Find Nir. I can't leave the codex."
I nodded, wearily, and stood. The stone walls of this library beneath the ground seemed to radiate, seemed to ooze with untold darkness, of evil not even imagined by those who followed unwittingly this damnation. Our fates, however, were more than simply following. We knew no choice. We had seen the darkness, we had been in the darkness, we knew the darkness.
As Nir stepped into the Highlord's chambers to speak with Crelius, he felt strange. What was happening? Nir saw Crelius's mouth moving, but no words could be heard. Nir sat in silence after trying to explain his thoughts on Verra's action recently, and failing. The next thing he remembered was waking up, with Isadore and Verra by his side, looking as puzzled as he felt. Oh how everything made perfect sense now.
As Crelius spoke to Nir about upcoming events, entailing Crelius's 43rd birthday, and what it was bringing, he knew, although not at first, what dread was headed their way. The curse was nearly upon them, after the ages Eclipse had been hiding it. There was no way to avoid it now, but perhaps they did have time to help soften the blows that would come down. Then, based on Isadore and Verra's words, Nir had basically gone a bit insane. He went to Isadore, speaking such things as losing faith in the Lord Necrucifer, and even then taking quite some time to speak such words. The next thing they knew, Nir was asking Verra for help, running through the forests of Arkane, and finally collapsing, failing to remain conscious. Verra got Nir somewhere safe, and asked Isadore for his assistance. As they sat around him, they finally got him to speak, through his deep sleep, only to find him ramble about his past, and other things which Nir had not even known about.
Finally awakened, Nir then realized everything that was happening. As he had realized, Verra knew all this as well, and they had figured now was a good of time as any to let Isadore know, since they would need his assistance. Isadore's eyes were wide with amazement. Who would of guessed such things under the cloak of Eclipse. Now was the time to push everything farther, and as quickly as possible.
As Nir sat in the library, pondering the damage of the curse that would be laid upon them, he heard footsteps. It was Verra.
'There's something you should know.... ' she started.
Never had Nir guessed such things within the hall of the Keep. Verra had truly had something to tell, something that would change his life forever. Perhaps, deep inside, Nir had known some of these things, but never in his wildest dreams would he even have suspected the grandest of Evil. Nir had spent his next few days watching over the several clansmen, looking for any sign that they knew the truth's, if they knew what he knew.
Oh how his Lord would someday rejoice, and how all his clansmen were, in fact, totally oblivious.
Nir knew what must be done now. It was time to find the great old Highlord, Mithrax.
Crelius screamed as the blunt end of a sword smashed into the skull of his General, Lyreth. Blood from the tremendous wound splashed upon his armor. He feebly reached out to try and embrace his fallen friend, but to no avail. Something was keeping him immobilized. He turned his head to see General Vahk dra'Har, fighting but slowly being overcome by these heavily armored warriors. The Yinn howled as his polearm seemingly bounced off the heavy field plate, harmlessly. The edge of an axe met the knee's of his horse. Bringing him to the ground in an awkward tumble.
Vahk screamed in desperation, "Crelius!" . Soon he was swarmed by the faceless warriors. At first his defenses held strong, until the point of a silver sword broke through, striking home and piercing his heart. Crelius again stood motionless, unable to move or speak as his men were slaughtered one by one. These warriors, clad in heavy plate, wore open faced helms which revealed only a blur were a face should rest.
A black cloaked figure flew diligently beside the Highlord. He seemed to take no notice of Crelius standing in that rigid position, forced to watch his clan fall. The figure rose his hands to the sky, the blood red sky. To speak a calling to his god. Mere sparks were produced instead of the demons he sought to conjure. The priest then screamed, "Crelius!" . The swarm then overcame him, tearing him limb from limb. His head rolled to the feet of the Highlord. The blank expression of a dark elf, Nir, stared up at
Crelius through lifeless eyes...
Crelius awoke in a verbal fit. Sweat cascaded down his brow, and it took several moments for him to gain his composure. He arose from his bed, and walked slowly to Eclipse's library, hoping that he might gain some relief from the plaguing nightmares within one of the many tomes...
Kelthas woke from his slumber in a cold sweat. He had the worst dream he could ever remember having. Darkness surrounded him. Unseen hands reached for him. Throwing on some clothes he headed for the library. There must have been something he missed. Somewhere lay the answers to his questions. They had to lay within the pages of the Codex.
It was quiet in the Keep. Not unusual for this time of night, after all, it was quite late. But for some reason, the quietness disturbed him.
Not really paying attention to where he was going, Kelthas looked up and was startled to find himself staring at the doors he had burst out of only a couple days before. The doors to the tombs. Instead of the normal dread he experienced at these doorways, he felt drawn to them.
"Perhaps this is a sign, " he whispered to himself.
Silently, he crept down the stairs. Passing up the tombs of his old friends and brethren, to the oldest part of the crypts. So old were these crypts that the names could no longer be distinguished. They could have been the tombs of San Gohdam and Targettar themselves. Why anyone would be this deep was beyond the ancient ranger. Allowing his training to take over, Kelthas allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A book lay across one of the crypts. Moving closer to investigate, the realization came to him. This was the Codex. Now he knew why he was drawn to this place. Here, he would find his answers.
Kelthas swiftly began to cross the room, to explore to Book of Dark Magic's, to answer his questions when suddenly he ran headlong into an invisible barrier, knocking him to the dusty floor.
Confused, he examined the area. There, in a perfect circle surrounding the Codex, was blood. Blood fresh enough that is had not yet dried completely.
Upon closer examination, he noticed four more circles of blood, these placed on in perfect space, north, west, east, and south, upon the larger circle.
While puzzling out the meaning of this, Kelthas heard soft footsteps coming nearer. Determined to discover the meaning of this, he quickly moved to an empty niche in the wall. Drawing a sword, he lay down within the crypt, placed the sword upon his breast, feigning to be one of the corpses of which, just days earlier, he longed to be a part of.
As he lay there watching and waiting, a passage opened and robed figures began filing into the room. We filed in, the four, in through the secret tunnels beneath the Keep, our inky black robes hanging heavily about our hooded forms, the near impenetrable darkness around us reeking of the ancient death of long slain Ecliptic heroes.
Entering the crypt where the ritual room had been set up, we slowly moved into our places. In the center of this particular crypt, upon the tomb lay the Codex, that ancient, mysterious manuscript of dark magic, open to the proper page. I thought briefly of the Sunset Dawn, of the scene where that holy text was converted to a manuscript of dark magic, of Ultimate Wisdom, and I thought of the defiled shrine in the Abbey that was where Ofcol doth stand now.
About the tomb was a circle of thick, slowly drying blood, and on that circle, each cardinal direction possessed a smaller circle, to which each of us proceeded.
On the northern point, I stood, and watched the dark elf priest, Nir, lower his hood on the west. The mysterious, reclusive Keeper, Vincus, on the eastern end, did lower his own deep cowl, gazing forth with his solemn eyes. And upon the southern end, the figure did not lower his hood.
This hooded priest had been reluctant to partake in the ritual, but, felt that it was best, for he knew the importance of what we were about to attempt. For better or for worse, this ritual was to be invoked.
None of us noticed, in one of the recesses, a corpse-like figure in ancient armor, watched quietly, posing as one of the dead. Poor, poor Kelthas. He had no idea what he was about to witness... a most horrible mutiny.
Though... nor did we.
We hungered for power. We wanted answers. We thought we wanted the truth.
But the truth... we didn't want the truth.
Here we were, in place, the darkness of the crypts was not past our vision to pierce, but its oppressiveness was high above our power to remain ignorant of. Oh, how looking back, I wish we'd never set foot into those four bloody circles attached to the larger circle of blood, surrounding the unnamed, empty tomb that was to act as a focal point for our malicious purposes. How I once thought I desired the power, the glory that this would bring me. How terribly childish, and naive of me.
Our Keeper, Vincus lifted a hand and the pages of the Codex flipped by magic to the proper spot. Nir stood silently, and I as well. The yet unnamed, deeply cowled priest of who I spoke before, looked around briefly. He was hesitant, reluctant, but his faith, I believe, forced him to be here, to aid us, lest the Eclipse fall. He was the one, I found out later, who saved us three others from total oblivion.
Vincus began, and his voice, though normally would have echoed through the extensive crypts, seemed almost muffled by the thick, terrifying and most tangible darkness that had accumulated.
"Te Occidere Possunt Sed Te Edere Non Possunt Nefas Est. Est Solis Usquequaque Sets Quod Totus Flamma Expirate. Est Phobos, Est Deimos, Est Spiritus Sanctum... "
We repeated after him, and the chant rose. Maggots writhed in despair upon the floor as the bloody circle hardened, and went cold, depriving them of any sustenance within the barren chamber.
A low hum began to emanate from the dark plane that we were contacting. Currents of our combined mana flowed through the circle, creating a barrier about the circles we have drawn, locking us and the contents of the circle, in place. Energy coursed through us, and the protective shield we had placed about it. I said my part, and how uselessly I regret those words:
"We the four doth summon thee, the nameless, the formless, the very soul of Eclipse, and beseech thee to succumb to our will, and offer us not only the answers we do seek, but the power to know, and to attain control of these dark halls. We offer thee a sacrifice, to act as a symbol of our undying service.. "
Slavery.
Crelius's form could be seen through the darkness, having entered through the secret tunnels. But the ritual! The ritual had not yet summoned him, it was to drag him to us after my next few phrases. Had the magic summoned him, or had he in these final moments, found out our plans!?
And when we looked back towards the circle, it was there. And it attacked we, the four, with incredible precision.
Oblivion.
Everything... Everything... Began to go wrong. "Someone do something! "
"I can't see it, I can't see it at all! Oh Gods save us! "
"Stop this! Stop this! Hold the circle! "
The battles raged high above Shinalstin, above Serpantol, in the streets of Thalos, where their walls had been breached. Dragons covered the sky, raining fire, ice, lightning, acid, and terrible magic's upon one another and the raging armies below.
The Demon Horde, those dark entities, flowed like a river of blood over hillsides, clashing with the amassed forces of the world. It felt as if the Avatars of the Gods themselves might do battle amidst the near world-wide war that the Eclipse had brought forth, with their dark pacts and the captured Draconus.
Dar -- Targetter -- had every man, every facet of his strength flexed this final day, and it replays in my mind over, and over, and over, as I sit here within this cell deep beneath Thaxanos, praying to Drakkara, to Necrucifer, to whomever would listen, now that most everything in the world had gone quiet. At this climax, what actually went wrong? What stopped the balance from shifting, and my Lover from conquering the world?
We met the leaders of the world mid sky, Targetter, the Death Knight Maven, myself... Ungoliante the Red let loose a massive stream of fire, reality ignited into chaos all about us as the battle pitched upward. Circling, rising like a whirl wind into the vortex that was the battle surrounding us, as we squared off with the Lord of the Dwarves, the Paladin Champion of the Knighthood, the Speaker of the Moons...
And then he dropped the Draconus. They did not come after me. They ignored the wrath I sent upon them with my stolen Conclave magic's. And the dwarf's lance landed through my Lover, piercing straight through with such force that he was knocked straight from Ungoliante's back, the lance, and he, joined, hurtling downward... Downward... Downward like the sinking feeling in my very heart.
Down through the torment of battle he dove, but my black dragon was faster. I scooped him up in my arms and onto the saddle, removing the cursed lance with a strength I had never known, and withdrew from the battle, flying east, towards Verminasia. Below, as the black clouds parted, the demons of the Horde dissipated slowly, growing less and less in number, fighting slower, just as Targetter's breath faded, before me.
The tears that blinded me smeared the blood upon my face, the very life blood of the only one I had, could ever, Love. Human... And dark-elf, Verra Ka'tath.
"Hold the Circle damn it! Verra! Verra?! "
"Verra..! "
"Lord Targetter, Lady Verra! "
The fanatic priest of Necrucifer, Jaymes, rushed across the courtyard of the palace as I stumbled from atop my dragon, crashing into the ground but cushioning the blow for my Lover. Targetter's blood covered her and oozed into the ground. Jaymes attempted to give an assisting hand as he drew closer.
"No! Let him be! Let me be with him, please! Let us die!" And Jaymes stood.
"Who did this? "
"Verra, who!?! "
"It was the dwarf King, aided by the Speaker of the Moons. They have the Draconus. " I stammered, wiping the blood and tears from my eyes, my chain and plate armor stained and torn from the battle.
I saw something within Jaymes' eyes that I had never seen before. The Faith that had always been strong in them, went pale, and he ran off, as dedicated as ever, after that, to prepare Verminasia's defense.
Dar looked up at me, those eyes that I loved so, now crushed in the mirthless acceptance of this ultimate failure, and this ultimate loss. My own soul burst within me, and I could feel the strain upon it, wishing to depart with his as it quickly bled to death and left this world. Time itself slowed as his heart did its beats. He could not speak, but I knew that he had no words. His belief, only now, at the final moment, had faltered.
Through my sobs and despair, I whispered to his ear, drawing him close, reveling in the last warmth I'd ever feel, close to he, "I still believe in you, my Love. "
I could have sworn revenge, I could have sworn that I would continue where he could not. But I knew I was damned, and I wept, howling once again up at the clouds, at the ash that began to fall like snow.
The courtesans scurried as they had never before, as Jaymes' lungs burst forth with wrath and commands, a faint echo, far in the back of my mind. That feeling, of a body going limp in thine arms, is nothing compared to the curse that permeated my body at that moment. My very spirit leapt from my lungs that day, as I howled, my tears choking me, and the smell of the cooling blood over my face and body, the blood of my true love.
It was over. We had failed, and there was a price to pay, for failure.
And my love... My love... My love...
... My lost love's blood covered me as I ran screaming and terrified from that courtyard, to Drakkara's temple, where I was inevitably captured, praying, and weeping, for that was all that I could do.
"We are lost! "
Archers, warriors, healers rushed about in the courtyard, my Lover's body framed by the dragon-fire that rained down upon Verminasia, arrows flying into the sky, and the streets of silver and gold that had been Verminasia, melting into the ground.
Oh how the power could be felt in these circles. The Codex was indeed at work in these tunnels, and it brought a grin to Nir's face. Only once, had Nir looked into the Codex, and only once before, had he felt such..... Darkness..... At work. Of course it was only for a mere moment last time and he was jerked away from the pages, and found himself laying within the Keep some distance away, but now he got to sit in this 'power' for some time, and it was grand.
As his attention was immediately brought forth with the chant, he spoke the words, still curious on the rest of the pages of the Codex. He glanced around at the other Priest's, they also were chanting along, eyes dismal and deep within their own thoughts, or so it seemed. He looked to Verra, one last time, before the pain struck him in the chest and put him into a place he had know well.....
Verra's face became one of great desire, great pain. It became the one who had been his most lovely dreams, his most horrible nightmares. Oh, how could he blame such a face of beauty? He could not. It was not her fault to fall for such a creature, many had known that they could strike such feelings within others, and without consent, or even a word of their own.
Then he, or it, appeared. It was Caine....
Sa'arene was resting there within the sleeping quarters, and that truthfully was where Nir had found her at her best. So calm, and so...... Oh Lord, what beauty! Nir found himself immediately going back to his old ways of his mere attempts at courtship. He even reverted back to his cursed goblin intoned common. Even now he thought is was that accented common that he blamed on himself for not being able to get the one thing in life he cherished so much.
Stop this! Stop this! Hold the circle!
He moved to her side, as he normally had, hoping the closeness would give some sign to her. Perhaps she had known all along, but was not sure what to do. Why do the God's cause such torture upon a man?! He spoke to her in soft words, 'hi der.... Yas been good an tuff? ' She slowly nodded, a slight smile coming across her face. 'I have been well, thank you. Are your travels? ' He did as he usually did, shrugged, and said some comment about how average his life was.
Then, He walked in. Nir turned suddenly, barely hearing the footsteps (or were there footsteps?) coming into the quarters...The figures filed into the room. Lying as still as the corpses around him, Kelthas watched from the niche he had secreted himself. No one knew he was there, or if they did, they made no mention of it. The ceremony began.
The chants rose, the room fell into the darkness of Oblivion. He could not see, could not breath. He tried to scream but no sound rose from his throat. Suddenly, he stood in Arkane. Dressed in ancient armor he had not worn in hundreds of years. Around him were the Knights of Darkness that he commanded. The elves of Shalonesti were there. The Knights of Gareth were there. Malice was there. Valor, Wargar, all the clans yet no one fought. A danger so terrible approached that all had put aside their own battles.
Kelthas was fighting. A huge aboleth stood before him. These creatures were killing everything in sight. Few could defeat them. With a mighty swing of his axe, the aboleth fell. Kelthas spun as he sensed another attack from behind him. His axes flashed, a tentacle fell. More blows strike and a second aboleth falls to his might. He feels a searing pain in his chest. Looking down, he sees a tentacle strike a blow through the armor, into his heart.
Kelthas falls. He is carried to a house and lain upon a bed.
"Paper!!! I need paper and quill!!" he cries.
A flash...
He stands before a throne, a huge minotaur is seated upon the throne.
"You have pleased me, my chosen one." speaks Raije.
Kneeling, Kelthas answers, "Thank you, my Lord. I am ready to fight by your side. To serve in your great army. To lead you to victory."
"Not yet, my child, not yet. Your work is not complete. You must return to the realm."
Another flash....
Kelthas awakens in Althainia. He feels strange, his head is heavy Reaching up, he feels protrusions coming from his skull. He staggers to a window and looks at his reflection. A minotaur is staring back at him. He throws his head back and screams into the night.
Another flash...Kelthas held a dagger to his chest. He had lived long enough. Sivlara and Sa'arene are before him, urging him not to end it. Urging him that he is still needed in the clan.
Flash....
He is in the Coven. A potion in his hands. He raises it to his lips. Pain... agonizing pain as the potion takes affect. He is going to die. Finally he will be allowed to rest.
Flash...
Kelthas lay one his bed in his quarters. The potion worked, it did not kill him, as he had hoped it would.
Flash....
Battles are being fought. Battles against unseen foes. Battles against unspeakable horrors.
One last flash....
And darkness....I stand here in silence, aware of the Darkness around me, aware of the others whose words whisper fervently within the chamber, and I smile. A small smile it is, and one only the Lord would understand I think. For I see what these... Children attempt here, and I understand their potential for failure in it. Yet still do I assist, for also do I know that without them, without all of them, the Darkness cannot hold strong upon this realm that it grows upon. So I stand, and I watch, and I whisper the words of prayer that Necrucifer do provide me, and I await all that does occur.
And it does begin, as the shadows grow in the circle, the words of each priest are heard, and the Darkness begins to coalesce into more than previously existent. And the circle shudders, for they have received a sense of the power they do attempt to control, and their resolve does suddenly begin to falter at the knowledge of it.
Such Darkness do no' bae a toy Father, this ah do understand. Ah do think mayhap, that it do bae time thae do as well.
I glance up at a sudden intake of breath, a gasp, and I see Vincus shudder, his visage and form blurring at his point in the circle, and just as suddenly, he does no longer seem to be present, as if the Darkness itself does suddenly claim him. I nod slowly and stare around the circle, my eyes meet those of Brother Nir, and I see nothing in them, a silent gloss as his will does turn internally, and I understand, for the Darkness seeks to show him things now, things of the past returned. And again I nod, for this is how it is to be.
A scream I do hear, silent in the chamber, yet piercing within the darkness, and I do smile again, for this I do know, and did expect. My eyes scan to a point directly across the circle, where Verra did stand, where she now crumples to the floor, her face a rictus of horror, fear, and understand of all that do be shown to her, and I nod.
This one, this child of Drakkara, devoted to her Mistress, a true zealot, such to the point where she do even be blinded in many ways by her own faith. She does begin to see, the power that she do seek to play with, that which she do wish to control, does instead take control of her.
Yet still, I do stand within the circle, and I do watch, and the words do whisper forth, trails of shadow echoing from my mouth to join the intricate patterns flowing around the chamber. My eyes continue their path across the room, and suddenly all goes black, something shifts, and I feel naught but Darkness around me.
A soft sigh escapes my lips, and I embrace the shadows that caress my flesh, exulting in the strength of the Darkness as it flows across me. Yet, just as suddenly, it is ripped from me, and I am plunged again upon the realm, a different realm, one which I have never seen before.... The church stands obese before me, bloated with the light that blinds its children, larger than any I have ever seen. How do this bae so? Such light in the realm of Darkness do never exist. Quickly, the words of transport flew from my lips, and my body shifted as it was called homeward, back toward Verminasia, the center of Darkness. No sooner did the words leave my mouth than I did step forward upon the stones of the temple, and fall forward in shock, stunned at what appeared before me.
Nowhere did I see the waiting eyes of Zoul, standing ever present guard within the temple, nor the altar, or priestess beside it, the stone walls themselves did stand, a pristine white, not the Obsidian that so soothed my eyes and soul. What madness do this bae? And then did my eyes alight upon the greatest horror, a statue, standing upon the square where the great guillotine did belong. Such horror, for it was a simple statue, one of Siccara, and standing silently in a square around which many of white cloth did walk.
I ran quickly eastward, seeking to return to those of the circle within the keep, and my heart stuttered as I came forth from the gates of the kingdom. The keep, the land upon which it would stand, empty, no stones put forth, no walls existent. Blessed Necrucifer, how do this bae? Where do exist Yae followers? All that do bae th' Darkness do seem removed, an' blindness here do reign supreme.
My breath became short, for I did not even sense the will of the Father, and sudden understanding came to me. A realm such as this could only exist one way, and such a realm did be doomed for all eternity without the Darkness that did allow it to grow. It would shrivel in time, and collapse upon itself, for such a realm could not survive without the faith to feed it, the faith in the Darkness that did allow it to be.
The library, so quiet this evening. It seemed as if something was missing. It was empty. He expected to find someone eagerly studying a way to perhaps learn more of the heritage of the glorious clan long into the night. It is usually commonplace for someone to be present. Crelius took a deep breath, exhaling satisfyingly at the dusky smells of the old parchments, and leather bound covers. But somewhere within the keep, something was beckoning him. He felt an old, malevolent presence and suddenly stumbled upon a terrifying conclusion, he never expected this to return. The chill air, the uncomfortable silence, could only mean one thing. Maven has come.
Crelius remembered the usual meeting place the death knight required, and he knew that the horrible form of Maven would be waiting for him. He crossed the cold marble floors of the library, and strode south across the heart of San Gohdam's keep. Abruptly he stopped at the door of the General's Council Chamber. The Highlord placed a gloved palm on the brass door handle . The freezing chill of cold metal sent a shiver down the length of his back, only adding to the inevitable malfeasance he knew to be residing past the doorway. Cautiously he pushed on it, sliding the aged oak door forward. Revealing an impenetrable darkness within the chamber. A set of burning red eyes was all that lay between him and the shadows, he stepped a shaking foot into the chamber, and with a slam, the door behind him was shut.
"Lord Maven", Crelius stammered out, attempting to block the sinister fear he had for his own soul. Perhaps a bit of polite conversation would make it would make it easier, he thought. The Highlord's attempt would prove futile, but he never did expect it to succeed with this being. It new far to much, it always did.
"Highlord." It said simply, surprising Crelius. This was not the first time Crelius had met with Maven. But he knew full well that he only came in the most dire of circumstances. Perhaps that is why Crelius was so cautious, he did not want to know what the death knight had came to tell him. If it was what he was expecting, this meeting would prove short. For his humanity would be on the line. He would have to act quickly to save his soul.
The charred features of the death knights face glanced balefully at Crelius's arm, his chill-fire eyes piercing his soul.
"They are down there now, in the tombs. At your tomb." Its fleshless jaw clanking slightly as it spoke.
They continued on for a time, the death knight unfolding a horrible plot upon him. He told him of how the circle of 4 was turning against Crelius. That the ritual that would bind him into eternal slavery, and that he cannot escape it, it had already begun. Hence the undead transformation that had all ready started to fester on his right forearm. His only choice was to act humanely, and attempt to stop the final part of the ritual before it ended. To save himself from the immortality of a death knight.
Crelius hurried out of the council room. Literally slamming the door on the ancient being. His merciless laughter mocked Crelius as he rushed, it warned him that his attempts would fail...
The Highlord moved quickly, and silently to prepare himself for the onslaught at hand. He did not need any of his soldiers to be awakened by his hasty attempts to equip himself, and especially didn't need them to see him in this crazed state. The laughter of Maven stayed in his mind, taunting him on how what he was about to try would be pointless. It was driving him to the edge of sanity.
Crelius armed himself tactically, taking care to wear armor that would lessen or nullify the effects of magic. He wielded a finely crafted halberd, but did not neglect sheathing a sword at his side. If combat was inevitable, it would lead into close quarter fighting. The tunnels down there are extremely cramped. He pondered this and threw the halberd to the side, finding the large weapon would simply not work. However there was one item that he could not go without. The eclipse ring, the key to opening the passage into the tunnels. But Crelius had left it wit hide General Vahk to hold onto. His first mistake.
The Highlord scanned the keep for signs of the yaenni general, emptiness was all to that he found. The general was gone, and with him the key to the passage. Crelius decided to try his luck with breaking the hatch of the passageway in. When he sprinted up the flight of stairs to the war room, he found the hatch hanging open.
With a growl he carefully climbed down the wooden ladder leading down to the tunnels. Closing the hatch above him as he began his descent. He was surprised at the silence underneath the keep. No chanting, no perverted howls of sacrifice he expected. Only the damp muggy air of an underground complex.
Crelius's pace at first was slow, and cautious. Peering about the shadowy niches that the low burning torches lining the walls created. He listened, for any sound of the voices he expected to hear. But heard nothing. As he continued pressing on through, he came to an intersection. One commonly known to him, to the north was the torture chamber, to the south was a passage leading out into the city of Verminasia.
But there lied something in the center of that intersection he had never seen. A stone staircase descending down, further underneath the tunnels. He searched around the room for a moment, looking to find some type of trigger or lever that might have opened a sliding floor piece to uncover these d declining steps, but found nothing.
When he turned his head to peer down the steps into the impenetrable darkness that lay below. He had a sudden urge to continue down the steps. He knew then, that what he was looking for lay only paces underneath him.
As he entered, Nir swore he saw the cloak swaying on his back. Lord, how he wanted this soul dead, the only punishment possible for doing such a thing to Nir's only love. As he approached Caine, he looked at him with such evil intensity, steam came from Nir's mouth.
Die you blood sucking beast! How could you steal my only love?!
Caine merely looked upon the elf and grinned, his pale face contrasting with such bright lips is made Sa'arene nearly faint in the corner of the room.
Suddenly, Caine stormed across the room, grabbing the back of Sa'arene's neck and pulling it back. Slowly unsheathing a small blade from his boot, Nir's started screaming, and ran as fast as he could, but to no avail.
Get him in the tomb, fools!
Nir all of a sudden, found himself holding the limp corpse of Verra is his arms, and Crelius and Vahk fighting right beside him. Suddenly realizing what was going on, Nir dropped Verra's body to the ground, and dove for the Codex, only to find Crelius' back n his way. Nir feel with a hard thump, and started to grab at Crelius' legs. Vahk gave a quick charge to his torso, sending Crelius flat on his back within the tomb, and the Codex falling upon his chest. Nir uttered a few quick words, seeing the wounds on Vahk's arms from their struggle, then helped him place the cover on the tomb, and tighten it well.
Only later did Nir come to realize full and well what had happened, and that he had indeed helped cause it. Verra's plans went deeper than she had let on, and now Crelius was to pay for it.
But there was one thing Nir could not remember for the life of him. What happened to Vincus? And what of the other Priest as well? Where had they gone? What had they done?
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