Tep Itaki
Friendly!
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REVIEWS
Disclaimer: MayWill come with a wall of text
@Muchiha:
Prologue: Starting out how Muchiha was an orphan to capture the readers' attention and how despite his past, he persevered through that and made a name of himself, even allowing himself a moment's weakness to think of his birth parents. Nicely done.
Moving on to the package itself, the necromantic book.
It reveals that his parents have kept track of him and how they're proud of how he has grew up. It goes on how his mother's family are distant relatives of King Alteon, and they're powerful mages thus showing how he is proficient in magic.
His father turns out to not only be a knight but a necromancer, like muchiha's great-grandfather. goes on to how he had to infiltrate the Shadowscythe and what happened when he was on the inside. After the back story, his father goes on to say his son has proved himself worthy of his old set and to show the world that not all necromancers are bad. Muchiha accepts the set with pride and prepares for war. Not a bad start despite its length, nicely done.
Though I would grab what Trainz said to me and say it might be best to split up the chapters in the letter so that it's easier to read.
Chapter 1: Still loving the S.S. Necrotic part. But that is a large army you've painted, so overwhelming that nothing stands a chance against it.
Chapter 2:
Le Gasp! Dem rogue paladins are marching towards you, and you've painted them then full zealotry. Hee hee B. Right and he's the right hand man XD
Hmm...still, having them calling themselves rogues when they preach that they are the true and pure paladins, especially when the meaning of rogue means dishonest and unprincipled man(not acting with moral principles). It still doesn't sit well with me because of this. Then again it's shown later that they live up to the rogue name.
Haha, the way Phrixus just comes in and dispatches all the paladins, which causes all the other leaders to make a note of keeping their distance. A funny moment to closet the chapter.
Chapter 3: Hmm...reasonable Muchiha vs the arrogant and one track mind leader of the Paladin Rogues. Not surprising it lead to a fight in the next chapter. What surprised me(and made me chuckle) was when UnderSoul was charging at the leader, after stopping Phrixus.
Chapter 4:
Nicely done with the spells, especially with the colors to make it eye-popping.
Only part that's got my OCD going is with the Death snake1. I keep twitching whenever I see this.
Hee hee the DraGween makes it's appearance XD
Oooh, I really like how you had the cliffhanger after the battle scene.
Overall: It's a good story, bit long with the paragraph structure that makes me want to turn the other way. But I didn't. It had some nice humor mixed in there, as well as a great fight scene.
Small note, you don't need to keep adding he said, I said after every dialogue, especially when it's just between two people.
I hope that this is not the end to your story.
@flashbang:
Day before the war: Oh? Siblings on opposing sides? Hmm...and your paladin character is popinloopy's apprentice and his brother is the apprentice to Lord Scorpio? You also gave a small history to the helm that your character wears to his meeting with his brother, which you then swiftly switched to the battle scene.
It's short and to the point and seems to follow with the game's mechanic considering the Power Word Die.
Pre-War Necro side: From here, you immediately switch to the brother's perspective. Not much to say here except the necrospoonomancer part.
Mid-war Paladin side: Oh ho! He reveals he's able to summon undead to fight against the necromancers.
Mid-war Necro side: Surprising how the brother knows light based necromancy.
Necro side: Now why does the meeting between brothers in this chapter make me go to this song?
Bonus: A humorous bonus to your story especially about the spork part.
Overall: Your story lacks a lot of depth but there is still some as the reader continues to read.
Also, you may have ended your story a bit too soon as the ending is completely different from what Lord Barrius had showed us.
It was a good story nonetheless.
@Elryn:
Prologue: A mysterious beginning that's accompanied by fine detailing to paint the scene in a way that places the reader in the girl's shoes.
Divided: The way you have the dialogue set here is fantastic. The action of the present as it gives the reader an insight to Elryn's thoughts without disturbing the pace. Nicely done with describing the clouds that hung over the skies.
To War:
An endearing scene before cutting to the flash back through a third person's view from Sora's side.
A bit of a lighthearted beginning in Sora's memories before it turned completely serious. Heart wrenching to read as the child and mother could not stop the father from joining the battle.
Grammar: only to stop midway and realize she had no idea. > perhaps you meant realized?
At the house visit and from Charles' memories, we then realize that Jorsht had no choice but to join the battlefield to go after his apprentices, who was coxed into fighting by the wearer of the mantle. Oooh, secret weapon those paladins have.
Later as Yulgar's Inn: Hmm...did you mean "Later at Yulgar's Inn", perhaps?
- Again, love how you have the reader peer into Elryn's mind while still having the actions outside Elryn's mind going in a seamless manner. A nice distinction between the light-hearted and comradery past with the grim present. This chapter shows how even Yulgar is dislikes this war, despite the huge profit he made from it. Nice way to include Travis' story in here though. Then it is later revealed that Cataclysm is joining the fight and he's the secret weapon! Le Gasp! Now Elryn must fulfill his promise. The description of Elryn's march to the battlefield was amazing! Hmm...wait...!!!! There that did it justice.
Last preparations: Hee hee, dumdums XD I liked how BlackAces was mentioned here through his gear portal device(first time reading this I had a hard time understanding what it was >_>)
At Yulgar's Inn:
- A small and humorous scene between Yulgar and Elryn in the beginning, as well as how he created a small wind orb. Nicely done.
- Grammar: If found Boris and Henri > did you perhaps mean "I found Boris and Henri"?
Within the strange device was locked a permanent spell template > It's just my personal preference and easily confused nature but I think the sentence could go like this since the sentencing seems a bit broken "Within the strange device, locked a permanent spell template." The Scourge and the Warmage:
Such a long chapter....I like how you've introduced Muchiha's rogue paladins here as well as how zealous they are.
Well done with the accompaniment as it set the mood when Cataclysm comes and Elryn comes face to face with the Scourge of the Battlefield.
Cataclysm is right, the way you set the mood is fantastic, especially the scene around Cataclysm and Elryn.
Grammar: with pink trimmings adorned him > Perhaps you mean "with pink trimmings adorning him"?
Wonderful music choice(so you like Fairy Tail huh?) for the fight scene. There really much I can say except bravo.
Interlude:
Ah, the other story of Jorsht and Dravan, the other characters in your story. Grammar: Strange bones of various kind had begun to emerg from the ground
Ahaha! Such a wonderful and humorous scene following the grim situation of Dravan and the complete defeat of the six vile necromancers. A wonderful mood breaker before it turned into another twist where Jorsht is forced to fight Dravan for his apprentices' lives. Oooh, vile wearers of the mantle! *shakes fist* Well at least he was stopped and the mood returned to a light tone.
Epilogue: Hold back the tears, must hold back the tears!!! GAH!!! Why did you have to have that music in there to create such a mood >.<;; You've got a perfect piece of literature here as well as the music that accompanies it. Such a great epilogue you've written. I loved how you mentioned Rixi here :3 I'm so glad ^,^
Overall: Wonderfully written, even the few grammar mistakes didn't deter from greatness of your story.
PS are you a professional writer by any chance? 0x0
@Travis:
Shaded Sunrise: What really captured me is the vision Death's Kid saw. A definite shock. The scene following was interesting as Kid quickly and effortlessly downed the guy as he made the paladin apologize to the victims. Kid warns him and gives him a warning before letting him run off with his tail between his leg.
Day of Reckoning: I'm quite surprised that there was an undead village, then again this is Lore. The way Kid took out those paladins was something to read, especially the way you described how he took out two paladins without actually saying it, leaving it to the reader's imagination.
Overall: Overall, it was an interesting read. The way you leave some parts out deliberately so that the reader would figure out the in between by themselves is something I like. I also agree with battlemaster here as Kid fights against the paladins to bring them back to their senses.
@UnderSoul:
The Beginning: A short intro paragraph. It shows that your character was humble despite his standing
The War Begins: Interesting that there are some whom does not like the word honourable. Hmm...how interesting that popinloopy is not the honourable one. Hmm...the SPOON!
In the Heat of Battle: Hmm...His route to Smog was ambushed by Lycans and paladins, one of which is popinloopy. Grammar: dark powers to hold popinllopy at bay.
Genocide: Smog seems to be a comedic relief here. It works to lighten the already tense mood. Although that was interrupted when the paladins launched a surprise attack against the necromancers. Again, the comedic relief of Smog breaks up the serious mood seamlessly at that.
Hmm...the only thing that I'm wondering is the small girl that was killed as it seems to be somewhat forced but I suppose it shows how zealous the paladins were in their attack.
Retaliation and Victory: Again, whenever Smog is involved the mood somewhat lightens. Nicely done painting how the paladins came en masse and how they were easily subdued. What surprised me was that you returned the undead back to their slumber after they finished their job.
A Midnight Meeting: Hmm...a really short chapter that has a secret meeting between Lord Scorpio and popinloopy. Not much to say.
Overall: Short, simple and to the point but with enough description and depth to keep the readers interested. Also, it's not much of a wall of text to that's also comforting and encourages reading it.
I also recommend splitting the paragraph whenever another character speaks, no matter how small.
@battlemaster: Thank you for your review :D As dysfunctional as they are, they love each other. Deeper than that, they're frustrated and annoyed at each other XD. At the deepest levels are the lessons taught to them by their parents when they were still around. And you're welcome for the cameo as I thank you for volunteering to be the victimvolunteer in my story :)
Prologue: It starts out as Storm is still in the middle a conversation with his teacher about his conflicted feelings on the war. It's resolved as his teacher tells him of the truth and Storm takes the necromancer's side.
Chapter I:
Hmm...a test? That was an interesting display that he was on the necromancer's side. Though I liked the way you described the encampment. Interestingly enough, you also had included the many different races that were on the necromancers' side.
Love the relation between Isaac and Storm here and their exchange. A bit humorous.
Chapter II: A mother's surprise and persuasion for Storm to stay out of the conflict as she finishes the letter with a threat of death. Fun.
Chapter III: The beginning of the war as the paladins rush towards Storm and the squad he's in. Though it seems he's a bit afraid of facing his mother in battle here as pointed out by nervousness and his sigh of relief.
Chapter IV: Juna is quite the hardball player is she not? Strict but fair from what I'm seeing. She's also the tactician as she drills into her troops head the strategy and what-not into their skulls. With how you end the chapter with her mulling over her meeting with her own son. Nicely done.
Chapter V:
Yikes! The paladins attacked as soon as Storm was asleep after being exhausted from battling for 24 hours straight. Then it's later revealed that it was his mother who lead the attack by Isaac.
Ew...what a way to die. Poor paladins.
Chapter VI:
Hee Hee. Loved how you incorporated my line into your story.
The poor necromancer, how he slowly suffered into his death. It was small sad moment before Storm comes face to face with his mother, whom was trying to convince her own son one last time before the battle began.
That was a large fight scene that you've wrote. The detail you've taken to set the scene and action itself is wonderful. Though there are areas where you could split the paragraphs to make it easier to read. An example would be what was happening outside the barrier.
A moment when it seemed like Storm was going to lose his life when he turns it around with his dark magic. The surprising part was when the lightning struck the mother as she was in the middle of using her revival magic.
Epilogue: I like how you showed that because of the storm, all undead were free of necromantic control but Isaac stays true to his words and remains in Storm's service. Though what was truly shocking was that the lightning bolt literally killed his mother and that Storm now has a prosthetic leg to replace the one his mother chopped off.
A little tearjerker as Storm cried over the death of his mother, despite what she tried to do. A great way to end the story as Storm inherits his mother's sword after her death.
Overall: I love how you set the scene beforehand like in a script. It sets the stage for the actors to freely do what they do, so to say. I love how calm Storm is usually and how Isaac has that one funny bone in him from time to time. Wait how could Isaac hear when he has no ears? Skull Joke! Yohohohoho!
@Trainz_07:
The Dead Shall Rise:- Prologue: An interesting setting to set the scene as the way you've described the air, the mood and the location itself. The part where Scion is beating himself up is something I find hilarious as well as the banter between Barret and Scion.
- Chapter 1:
=An immediate "fight" scene following the calm. I quote fight because all Scion did was dodge and subdued the foolish vampire that wanted to attack him. I like how you created a charming Safiria(who should be as she is the queen of the vampires), who revealed to Scion there was somebody that he swore vengeance on. What surprised me was that Safiria suddenly lunged at him, with seemingly intent to kill. The intense and quick fight scene is described beautifully as it is later revealed she was testing him.
=Grammar: Why did you split the sentence into another paragraph? "...wounds from your claws, your Majesty.
Might I ask for an explanation?"
=I like how you showed that if the paladins had their way, many innocents would be slaughtered in their campaign. And I see what you did there "the dead shall rise" nicely done as well as the Dracolich part as he goes to meet Lord Manderly. Interesting back story you've inserted into the story. Done without disrupting the flow of the story.
- Chapter 2:
=You've started the chapter with Scion raising six dead paladins that he slew. The plan to use them to infiltrate the paladins' headquarter was quite evil, I must say, especially the part of torturing his foe.
=The interesting part was between Scion and one of the forgotten as he seemed to have the power of telepathy as he knew why Scion joined the fighting.
- Chapter 3: The meeting between a former disciple and master. The banter between them is quite enjoyable as it brought a smile to my face. Love how you rephrased a sentence concerning respect for Kaley in the end.
- Chapter 4:
=Did it just get colder in here? Wait nevermind, I just forgot to turn on the heater. The way you described the winter cold really did send a chill in me as I felt I was there. curse you...i was so comfortable. Moving on to the story. Also, did you switch from using *** to hr? Space conserving I see...
=It's tickles me a bit that Scion, after refusing, comes around to accept the little group of soldiers thrust upon him. I find the scene with Richard to be hilarious, especially the part about the chair, cloak and pair of boots. Such a shame it was ruined by the paladins' ambush and Alester's betrayal.
- Chapter 5: The portrayal of Coueraservi's conflict of the war is done well. Also, glad to see Scion had a little revenge. What I'm surprised at is the fusion between negative and positive anima magic. Nicely done there.
- Chapter 6: I find this chapter great and heartwarming. How you've told the chapter through the dracolich's eye(even though he doesn't have any eyes. Skull Joke! Yohohohoho!). From how Scion got his revenge for the betrayal to how gentle and warm the memories of it and Scion was.
- Chapter 7: Hello Elry-oh wait you're Trainz XD. Nicely done incorporating Elryn's writing style into your story. I really like the battle scene itself and how the style you've injected into your story works really well with your writing style. Nicely done. Le Gasp! Will Artix and Scion finally go face to face?
- Chapter 8: Drat, that was a let down. But the battle and detail entailing the fight is something to behold.
- Epilogue: Hmm...The dynamic between Kaley and Scion is still very enjoyable. Nicely done describing the scenery after Scion parts way with Kaley.
- Overall:
Great writing and solid piece of work as you've effortlessly help readers learn new vocabularies as they enhance your writing. It's consistent throughout the entire story, especially the details you've provided for the readers about the scene itself. Light-hearted here and there as well as a twist and surprise. Fantasticoolio! Bravissimo! Such professionalism that makes it like a true published novel! -inserts- with a few minor hiccups there but it doesn't matter in the face of the entire story -end-
I was about to ask if you were a professional writer again but then remembered your PM reply. -insert Domokun rawr here-
Also, I had you in a grammar bind but I can't find it anymore since this is the 3rd time of going through it...
@She Ratchet!:
Prologue: A surprise of war and your character goes to research it.
Part two: Where's part one? No matter, I find the part where Artix is playing chess to be intriguing but I must ask, where are the puns?
Part three: Hmm...even Safiria is on the necromancer's side in this story as well. The surprise of the paladin calling for war is something interesting. As well as how grim the situation looks for the necromancers in your story.
Part four:
What I find interesting is how you've painted Halenro to be an attention seeker, a fame grabber and a reputation monger. So to speak, a low sort of man. Though the confrontation between him and Lord Scorpio has Halenro in a hard situation when Scorpio started to raise the dead.
Grammar: "The General
allowed himself a smile." I suggest making these two into one sentence.
"Necromancer, but two five other necros" is it two or is it five?
Part five:
Grammar: "Isengard, the large ,open plains, the hills in the distance." I suggest get rid of the comma as it is not necessary.
What I'm surprised at is the ones that Artix recruited for help. This seems like something that could prove disastrous. Just not sure for which side.
Part six: A surprise attack! But what's this? It's The White Knight on a dragon?! Holy moly.
Part seven: Still waiting...
Overall: Great story. Suspense and edge grabbing. I must say, you sure know how to create a story. It may be dark but it can really pull in a reader.
@White Knight: Your post is an interesting one as it involves two different stories. But since I'm lazy, I'm gonna skip it for now. I'll PM you the grammatical errors itself since there's a lot.
@Archmopecake: I had to shut down his serious sort of atmosphere since he's more of the so-focused-and-intent-on-one-thing-that-causes-a-chain-reaction-which-creates-huge-problems-for-every-else-around-him. Phew! That was a doozy to say in one breath. Thank you for the review  Also, don't expect that it's the last time you've heard of the Itaki-nades and the Tep-a-rangs. They shall return!!
Speech for the Paladins: I have to ask, was the start of this speech inspired by Abe Lincoln per chance? The speech seems like has the effect to increase morale and send the troops into battle. A personal inquiry but could you perhaps darken the yellow part of your speech? It makes reading it a bit hard. Otherwise the speech was wonderfully done.
@Kalle29:
Kalle's story: I'm wondering why Kalle was reading a porridge and fishing paper while he was walking? You've started out so random that it's a bit hilarious. What I'm surprised at was he wasn't stopped at the gates but found himself inside the HQ. He's able to escape by writing a "bad" word on the ground and later it's revealed it's the silliest word possible. Though I wonder how dragons, time travel, geese and a cake was involved on his way back to paladin HQ. So back to the word, you just basically killed off all the paladins and made yourself to be the only one who stands in his epic way to stop the coming necromancers. So random but a stroke of an insane genius.
Overall: A bit sarcastic in your writing style. Funny how you pulled it off. An enjoyable read.
@Cataclysm:
A Mercenary's Conflict:
- Prologue: I like the way Ulthair tries to persuade his teacher about joining the war with him against the necromancers and Cataclysm is adamant about his decision. He later takes the contract to the paladins after hearing about the situation. I also liked how you foreshadowed the fight between Cataclysm and Elryn here.
- Chapter One: After Cataclysm's reluctant decision to join the paladins with Ulthair, they head to the paladin HQ to discuss a strategy, only to have Cataclysm decline it and suggest to be elsewhere, after Uthair was gone. He seems set on fighting alone as he knows the one he would have to fight against later on in the war.
- Chapter Two:
=A quick jump near the end of the war where Cataclysm and Elryn meet. Elryn supplying a ball of wind as a greeting. After the long pause and Tep's questioning, Cataclysm had to deflect a cutlass aimed at him and proceeded to move. Grammar: the thrown cutlass falling to the ground at his feet > did you mean "fell" as that is a past tense and works better here.
=The fight scene you've painted was intense and truly action packed. Every movement is described with enough detail to picture the scene happening between the two. Great work.
Overall: It was short though the ending is ambiguous enough to leave the rest of the fighting to the reader's imagination. You're truly a master of writing fight scenes. As expected of the Scourge of the Battlefield :D
@Sir Nicholas:
Right Makes Might:
- Part One: A dark somber setting for two of the five senses. A story told through a paladin's eyes as the war has already begun. You've done well with the details and left enough to the imagination of the audience. It seems the paladins are the ones who hold steadfast and united against the sheer number of unorganized parties on the necromancers' side.
- Part 2: It really seem like a dire situation for the paladins here and how it seems kind of pointless to be fighting against their vastness of numbers.
- Part 3: Great speech followed by the fight to defend the fortress from the oncoming assault. It truly seem like a hopeless fight for Hadrian and his men.
- Part 4: A necromancer tries to negotiate the terms of their surrender, only to find out they are not planning to agree to it. This can only mean that the paladins plan to fight to the end.
- Part 5: A grim situation as the undead breaks through the doors as the paladins fight with vigor and determination against the incoming waves. Then their reinforcement comes in the form of a Lycan, a mighty paladin Lycan, that rips through the incoming undead and returns their morale.
- Part 6: Not much to say here except well done in the atmosphere after they successfully defended the fortress.
Overall: I really like how you open a chapter with a small monologue from your character. It helps set the scene. Also the extremely find detailing of your writing somehow makes it seem like it's really happening before the readers' eyes.
@Falerin:
Overall: This...this is something I really wished I read during the war. Now I understand what everybody was talking about during the war. I've bookmarked this and plan to read more into detail but the way you've had the dark mood throughout the entire demi-canonical story. Several twists and surprises, especially the final note you left us. Still fearful of reading it again though. I've bookmarked your story for future reading and references.
@Dwelling Dragonlord:
Overall: Not much I can say that's different from my previous review of your work. It's short, yet mysterious and it serves as a dark reminder for all those who enters the war.
@kors: Tough Choices:
- Part I: How interesting that Kor was captured right when he was headed to meet Kaley Obsidia.
- Part II: Well at least the misunderstanding was resolved and I find it interesting that you've painted The White Knight as the grave threat to the necromancers.
- Part III: Hmm...the fact that Kor called his reinforcements from Trescola and Kairula is something I find surprising as not a lot of war stories include them. Interesting how they were incorporated and somehow fits with your chronomancer character.
- Part IV: Hm...So Kor does have necromantic abilities after all? I find him raising a paladin so that he could fit in with the other necromancers to be somewhat predictable, but the fact that the undead paladin could speak and his interaction with Kor was something I enjoyed.
- Part V: Interesting scene you depicted when Kor had to slow down time around him and his necromancer allies.
Grammar: "The White Knight and Lord Scorpio’s fight<> nothing could have prepared them for what happened next..." a comma would be appropriate here as it seems to be a small pause.
- Part VI: The fight scene pertaining to Popin and Flash's encounter with the undead and necromancers was done well, even if it was short. Though they seem to be in a sort of craze in their attacks as they seemingly overwhelm the necromancers.
- Part VIII:
=I felt a bit sorry for Sonic as he was forced to fight against the Paladin Order. Though what got me curious is the axe he's wielding. Also, interestingly enough that TWhK has convinced a group of paladins that mutinied to join in slaughtering of undead and necromancers.
=Grammar: "Through his visor<> The White Knight" a comma should go here.
=I somewhat question White Knight's sanity at this point as he deflected Popin's question. There does seem to be some tension between the two because of this. Also, poor Hellblade as he suffer an instant defeat by TWhK. And Artix is angry at TWhK? This should prove interesting.
- Part IX: The most interesting thing to me was that Sonic had to fight for his unlife because those that were purified could not return to Death's domain. It seems that he truly does not want to go to an afterlife worse than death.
- Part X: So it's revealed that TWhK is power hungry and used some dirty tactics to get to where he is now. Interesting. However, there is one thing that bothers me and that's Couraservi (spelled Coueraservi) agreeing with the other paladins that she should be punished. I would figure that he would be more sympathetic here.
- Part XI: Hmm...What has happened to Hellsword? Also, it seem there's a part in this chapter where it abruptly shifts to Kor and Scorpio. Oh my the troops have gathered for you Paul!
- Part XII: Oh dear, looks like Hellblade has finally snapped and that spell of his is going after everyone it can get in its reach. Interestingly enough, the winds could seem to be part of Elryn's and Cataclysm's fight(just saying) But it seems that after the spell, he transformed into a Lich and there's a small alliance between the necromancers and paladins involved.
- Part XIII: Yup, TWhK has become the big bad boss, pun intended. And what is this? TWhK is a Chronocorrupter? Interesting...Also, what is that axe?
- Part XIV: Hmm...it's interesting how Kor escaped from TWhK's attack, only to end up running again. Also the ending was something I find interesting as it ties up some loose end and Paul's small reign of terror ended with him being hauled back to Paladin HQ.
Overall: Good short story that gets to the point. I find it intriguing in several spots but I still wonder what that ax was.
@Heroes of the Scape:
Still Alive Portal Song Adaption: Love it, love everything about it. The songs, the changes in lyrics and how it still works with the song.
@Eschaton Thunder:
Prologue: Prologue as prologue is. Preparation are made, including the Mega World Portals
Day 2: Hmm...definite character deviation here compared to Muchiha's and UnderSoul's stories..
Day 4: Who is this Evil One? A short chapter with some things in the dark.
Day 5 (Part I): A small chapter with a suspense of what's about to happen when Sleuth finds a Brilhado necromancer. Though it looks like he's somewhat corrupted through this.
Day 5 (Part II): Oh dear, Muchiha and UnderSoul's been capture and UnderSoul's being coerced by Eschaton, and it was successful. Now I see what everybody was talking about and the big hullabaloo was all about. Evil little Eschaton.
Day 9 (Part I): So now UnderSoul is your soldier and his betrayal still shocks me. Ze Light is evil.
Day 9 (Part II): Interesting chapter title as UnderSoul fights against his own comrades. Evil little Eschaton, especially when you killed of UnderSoul as well.
Day 9 (Part III): And now, you foreshadow that UnderSoul will come back as the paladins push the necromancers into Darkovia?
Day 10: Poor UnderSoul. Eschaton, you really are cruel.
Day 13: And you killed him after re-animating him again.
Day 14: Now you've also turned yet another necromancer with that light once again.
End of War: Interesting end is all I can say, especially with the sacrifices line.
Overall: I can see what Travis was talking about with the whole timeline splits and whatnot >.>;; I'm not sure if I could enjoy the story with such a deviation of characters compared with the other stories and how cruelly you made UnderSoul's fate.
@Oddball:
Overall: While short, your story creates a lot of mystery as it eggs the reader to want to know more.
@Daimyo:
Cysero's Misadventures: What happens with asking Cysero to washing your dishes and I liked the whole, "in preventing a disaster, it becomes the cause for everything". This leads into MQ as well as into the AQ universe. Poor Warlic...
Eschaton Thunder's Excommunication: Uh...cold blooded is all I'm gonna say here.
Overall: Hilarious and short. I've especially taken a shine to Cysero in this story as how random and strange the events are as they lead up to the newsletter.
PS: Those Pom-Poms are mine!! *huggles Pom-Poms*
@ss2195:
Memoir 1: Interesting that Seth destroyed the undead his allies raised. Though this turns into a quick showdown with the necromancer with Seth's victory.
Memoir Two: Your fight scene has some moments of hilarity in it. I like it since laughs are always welcomed. :P The teamwork and the items in the AQ universe could be better introduced.
Memoir 3: Hmm...the situation is grim for the paladins and you've left the story in a cliffhanger. Curses!
Overall:
Grammar wise, you should split the sentence whenever another person speaks, regardless of how short it is. Also, it's best to proofread your story and spell-check your story for grammar mistakes. There's a lot of grammar mistakes but since I'm too lazy right now for correcting them...somebody else can do it >.>;;
The fight scene was something interesting as you've incorporated every item you've used in the war, at least that's what I figure judging by your writing. Though I must say that it seems your story is not finished and I wonder what happens with the hooded figure
@Uskius:
Overall:
I find the fact that Safiria uses Vs instead of Ws in her speaking to be something hilarious. Though Uskius' troubles are something to behold. In a way it's a caliginous mood. Quite heavy to be honest but it suites the war itself. The story through his eyes as he fights the paladins, after hearing the Lady's words. However, I love what you've done with the battle scenes. Though they might not be as intense as others, you're still able to convey the tenebrous atmosphere. Well done.
Grammar: "The, the paladins are marching like some death army".
@Gambler:
Overall: It was interesting how Astreaea coxed her sister Cerrana into joining the necromancers' side with those years. But the thing that's truly great is when Undersoul was groaning quietly. I had a couple of chuckles there.
@Winter Knight:
Chapter One:
A little peeve of mine but could you bold your chapter title? Also, you should be able to omit the last part "He destroyed them" as it seems a bit clunky placed there. Another grammar mistake to correct is to capitalize the i in "if we win, what will our purpose be?". I also suggest switching out out-loud with aloud but that's just my personal preference.
Your character's stance of the undead are interesting, especially how he tries to reason with those he meets, when he has the time and opportunity, before he destroys them if they don't take his offer. Now I wonder what Kaley said to him.
Chapter Two:
Grammar: "responded to the Necromancers undead" An apostrophe after the s should help with confirming it's the necromancers' undead not an undead with the power of necromancy.
Grammar: "a Necromancer and stolen it's uniform." Do you mean their/his/her uniform? Because the way you worded it, it sounds like there's a necromancer that's not really a person. "made it close to the center, here he paused." I suggest changing adding a w before the here since you already have soon in the beginning sentence. I would suggest using the colon instead of the period after the "Necromancers were everywhere"
Interesting scene how Raziel obtained a necromancer to torture.
Chapter 3: Interesting opening scene with the torture which lead to a short fight scene, showcasing Raziel's proficiency with magic.
Overall: A rather short story with no ending as of yet. Unsure whether or not this is finished. However, I'm unsure of where this story is heading to be honest as I find myself confused with it.
@Stephen Nix: Review will be transferred here as well
The Ultimate Showdown
Grammar: "The battlefields were glowing from the clouds above the fighters, with each slash comes a kill for one side, and then the next." Could you revise this sentence as it is a little confusing to read.
On your second paragraph, you could split it into a few new paragraphs. An example would be after "making sure not to miss one area."
"As one page was ripped<> the other was right behind it as it should." An apostrophe could be placed here as it seems to be a small pause.
I find how Nix is on a rampage just looking for Artix and ending those on the paladins' side mercilessly if they didn't tell him what he wanted to hear.
Overall: I liked how you have different naming colors for each actors in your story. Also, I find how your writing it in a sort of script form to be something interesting. I hope to find more!
@Weretiger5411:
Overall:
A suggestion is to split the paragraphs every time a new person is about to speak to make it easier for the audience to read. What you have is a small wall of text that discourages people from reading it.
That said, interesting how both cousins are on opposing sides yet, they can chat calmly with each other. Sad to see it was ruined by the paladin and the the fate of the necromancer seems to be grim indeed. I really like the heavy mood in your story.
@PsyBlade:
Overall: A short post of what happened after the war. A dark and somber mood despite its length. Nice job.
@hict98:
Overall: .....Poor Daimyo.
It made me giddy to see the pom-poms line in all the stories that included it when I was reading through them the second time around.
PS Added an epic fight scene with the mana elemental. You're welcome Darquess (Try to find some errors in that Trainz! You probably will XD)
I'm definitely never going to bite off more than I can chew. Especially remembering to save the text to another program...so much work lost...If you see some parts shorter than others, it's mainly because of time constraints or that I can't really pick at works going after another. also, if you find any grammatical errors in my post....well....I'm really really tired and really really frustrated with myself for accidentally pressing refresh or back and not learning my lesson after the 3rd of 4th time! >.>;; *sighs heavily* Please forgive me...
@Darquess:
When we go to war...:Overall: Rather lazy right now as my brain is not keeping up but I see what you mean by a fight ever five sentence, even if it wasn't literal XD.
Grammar-wise, I went and bold the parts that are small grammatical errors that needs to be corrected. Google is your friend in this situation for spelling, except with AE characters(that you'll have to use the pedia). Currently wishing I did review over it earlier during the war *facepalms* Sorry about this. Interesting that you use the British spelling of favorites though. You've also need to learn to use an apostrophe when appropriate. Ex. Im > I'm, dont > don't, wasnt > wasn't. I recommend you thoroughly proofread your work even after you've posted it up. Also, I've been wondering but do you mean paladins or are padlins something intentional?
Grammar:
When we go to war...
A tale of the time when the good and the bad
the brave and the bold,
the stupid and the reckless,
went to war.
Chapter One
Murmers from the deep
"So, what do you propose?"
The man who wasn't there did not reply.
"Look, if what you tell me is true, this won't matter much anyway.
The padlins are coming and it seems the necromancers are not backing down either," said Dyson.
The shadows curled round him, almost dripping like condesation off glass.
The man who wasnt there inclined what should have been his head towards the table, on which a dispatch note lay.
Dyson was nervous, the news was grim from BattleOn, Darkovia had closed its borders, the western lands beyond were impassable...
The feeling of being trapped by fate was known to him, but now he could not see a way out.
"What should I do? Artix will speak to his commanders of course, but they will eventualy listen to him. Of course they will. He is right after all. We are too powerful"
The events of the last year, the wars, the famine, the deaths- all had enriched him. He possitivly crackled with death energy.
He stared at the haze that was once flesh and blood. It was alright for some, he thought. That...thing could just vanish into the wastelands that spawned him, hiding amidst more evil horrors than all the order of the mantle combined.
And yet...
He started forwards, the shadows shifting with him.
"I know what to do," he said. "I assume you are going to show the Order this? Maybe Obsidian. Even Zorbak if he's willing."
All were going to be needed for this fight.
He melted into the darkness that had sprouted from the dying sun.
The man who wasn't there stayed on, watching the fading sunlight, before going about his work.
Elsewhere, watchful eyes viewed the world.
Tonight, at midnight, they were meeting in the old monastery. It was, the figure reflected, an excellent choice. The padlins would never expect the order to meet in such a...holy place.
No matter. Their foolishness would be their undoing. For months, they had been plotting, planting idea's in the heads of incompetent padlin spies.
An idea that the padlins strength was being tested, that necromancer forces were nearly as powerful as theirs...
Well, that was true, years ago. Now, thanks to wars organized by them and others of an even more sublte nature, the necromancers nearly had twice the forces of the padlins.
The figure smirked, dagger teeth shrouded behind the mantle that was his life, his joy, his calling.
Tonight, at midnight, they met. And slowly, and surly, they made their plans against us...
Dyson had heard the call to arms. The order had answered the padlin's challange with all the forces they could muster.
He allowed himself a quick smile. Artix and his servants were in for a shock...
He continued his ascent, towards the peak. He had no misgiving about the coming battle, death was fairly insignificant for necromancers.
Nor was he concerned for comrades... indeed, he had murdered most people he had a particular liking to. They served him much better in death.
The entire of Lore lay below him. Behind, the maw of the volcano roared, and hid the dragons that lay dead within.
He resisted another smile. The order were incredibly irritated they couldn't get Arkilioth's body back from the dead.
The first clash of battle rang out from the tree's, far, far below him.
He tasted death on his tongue, it filled him, restored the strength he had lost in the climb.
He reflected for a while on why anyone would want to kill necromancers, it was such a glorious existence, if a bit morbid.
And wearing black all the time was irritating. You could wear other clothes, but the shadows swirling around you makes white or green look slightly ostentatious.
The molten magma smouldered beneath him. Dyson sighed, stretched and awaited the coming of war
End of Chapter One
Chapter 2
Darkness from Light
The padlin's had come. Of course they have.
All that power and not a brain cell between them.
One met his end with a dagger through his head, another when his former comrade turned round and tore his head off.
Overtime, the pile of bodies around Dyson was enriching him so much, the ground shimmerd with darkness coils.
Once, a female padlin recruit tripped into the shadows, fell into blackness and emerged a towering bone soldier.
Watching her crush undefoot many padlins allowed a moment of respite for Dyson.
He had to prepare for the inevitable commander confrontation. The super soldiers.
The ones who wielded holy might...
When he came to the crest of the volcano, Dyson almost sighed in relief. He didn't know the face that scowled at him through the armour plate.
That meant he was a relativly new guy. Which meant he was weak.
Wasting absolutly no time, the padlin flung three daggers of light straight at Dyson's chest. They rebounded as chains of darkness poised to ensnare the young man.
The commander withdrew his axe from his sheath. It glittered like sunlight in the early morning darkness.
Dyson was wary; he had to finish this fight soon, before sunrise, or he would be at the disadvantage.
He started backwards, towards the maw of the molten magma.
The man smiled, thinking his foe trapped, in retreat.
He had never understood that the perfect trap required masterful distraction. Which was provided, when a hail of black spat at him.
The shield he lifted in his defense buckled under the relentless pounding from the spell.
He roared, and with the first rays of the morning sun behind him, unleashed his full power. He grew four feet, became bathed in holy light as he rushed forward-now impervious to the weakened tendrils of shadow snapping at his heels.
He reached the edge of the crater.
Below, there was nothing but a fiery death. In front of him, floated Dyson.
"You know somthing the padlins never understood?" he asked.
The commander was watchful awaiting sudden counter attacks.
"They never understood, that shadows come from light."
And then, the crater, filled with the shadows cast from the infant day, exploded into the padlin.
It reached into his heart, his eyes, his mind.
Dyson allowed the padlin to view his fate for a few moments, then flicked his wrist.
The shadows tore the man apart.
But Dyson had lingered too long. He could feel through the earth he had blackened with his presence that Artix was coming.
He had no defense against this fight. He was no where near ready to fight the high padlin in the light of day.
Fortunately, his positioning saved his life.
As Artix appeared on the crest, Dyson bowed to the ground.
He sent every single tendril at his desposal through the earth, searching, awakening.
And, as the great padlin prepared to cast holy light, the ground around them both shattered.
All across the plains, the ground cracked as creatures long since buried awakened and heard their new master's call.
Dragons, zards, all manner of fire creatures surrounded the fire mountain.
Before Artix could look back at his foe, Dyson vanished into shadow.
And Artix was left on the smoking graveyard, looking into the eyes of the creatures he and others had slain many years before.
End of Chapter 2
Chapter Three
Farewell to Liberty
"Uhh, stop staring Galnoth!"
Artix was irritated and tired and winded and bruiesd.
So was the dragonslayer.
"Look, you didnt have to come. I didn't need your help back there."
Galanoth snorted. The sight he saw at the fire mountain actualy made him shiver.
Artix had been fighting for three hours when the dragonslayer had shown up. In that time, he had lost much of his armour and weapons and was in the process of running away from a collosul undead dragon litch.
Even he admired the necromancer's powers of reanimation. Up untiill Artix had ran straight past him and the dragon had collided with Galanoth.
After alot of fighting and oaths, they had managed to extract themselves from the never ending swarm of zards and cobras.
It was a few hours later and Battleon had been emptied. Every single Guardian had picked their sides, or were retreating to their individual homes to prepare for whoever would win.
Both the dragonslayer and the padlin had read the first reports. They were losing.
Badly.
Artix was no longer sure whether they could survive the aftermath they knew would happen if the necromancers won.
He had lost his favourite axe and most of his armour had disintergrated.
He wondered how the order of the mantle could be more powerful than that necromancer he had cornered a few hours ago. A necromancer who tore through eighty of his troops, three special forces platoons and a commander within the space of an hour.
He had then nearly killed both the dragonslayer and himself.
The imbalance of power was so profound, Artix cursed himself for letting the necromancer numbers to multiply to this level. It was clear now his spies had been decieved and that the enemy was far, far more deadly than his forces were.
The head DragonSlayer, for his part, was infruiated.
Firstly, because he lost a fight.
Secondly, because it was against dragons.
And thirdly, it seemed the world was about to end.
The dragonslayers were not excellent at repelling undead. Apart from the golden dragon slayer eclipse troops, he had nothing that could defend his order if the padlins fell.
Battleon was peacful, and the two friends looked around the town the two of them had built, raised and defended for a decade. All of it was now going to burn and die under the necromancer occupation.
The battle here would not happen however, unless Granemor fell.
They had rallied there for some time, concolidating power with the town militia. It was the only defendable city on the western continent, and therefore could not fall.
If it did, thhey were doomed.
The battle for Granemor, unbenoenst to them, had already been set in motion...
End of Chapter Three
Chapter Four
The crossing of paths
Artix left the dragonslayer at Battleon. The only way his order could survive is by remaning neutral in this conflict.
The clan leaders had also remianed typicly balanced, but their members were rushing to the defense of the necromancers.
He regreted his sudden action ow. He wished he had not portrayed the necromancers as the helpless vitims in his annoucement.
He continued his ride to Granemor, hoping he could arrive before the enivitable violence.
Dyson was subdued. He rode astride his steed which he had summoned from darkness.
He hated the war. It was pointless. What would it prove?
That necromancers were stronger than padlins?
Deep down, everyone knew that. It stemmed from humanity's basic moral weakness.
It was far easier to use the darkness within than reach for the light.
He was still irritated. Not only because of the non stop fighting but the fact he was in the company of a 'mysterious' necromancer.
The cowl turned to him, as if the figure could read his thoughts.
He probably could...
A sharp, cold vioce drifted from the hood.
"Second thoughts Dyson?"
It was a threat that was nt lost on the other man.
"Never. But you should not presume anything in this day and age," Dyson was guarded, the age was certainly one of chaos.
Not nearly as much as it was now though.
The forest around them rivebrated the sound of battle, the screams of the corrupted, the cries of the dying, the snarls of the reanimated.
The war was getting out of hand. If even one battle spilled into the dragonslayer territory, or onto the king's land, and the forces of the world, and some of their own fighters, would turn against them.
Thankfully, the dragonslayers were wary of them, a reputation that was well deserved. Although it was a bonous it meant that their golden dragons and their owners would not be fighting...yet.
The horses were mounts, shadows with substance. There was no heat from them, in fact, they drew in energy to sustain themselves.
No problem if you are shrouded in at least five layers of robe.
But for people in pratical wear, with a simple elagant traveling robe thrown on top...yes, he was shivering in this blasted winter weather.
No doubt brought on by the fall of so many light servants.
The road ahead turned off, leading towards an open plain that the city lay on.
The other necromancer pulled off the road however.
With a raised eyebrow, Dyson tightened the shadow mesh that served as his shield and followed into the wood.
The padlin column dashed across the forest. Hundreds of eyes continued to scan the forest they were crossing. It was prime ambush territory, and it was the dead of night.
Since meeting up with Artix, they had picked up pace. Now, they ran with all speed to Granemor.
Horses were bathed in sweat and spittle.
So were the padlins.
The news at the front were not good. Obsidian and Zorback had the first and second expiditionary force running across the badlands to escape the onslaught.
It was with a grim mood that Artix finaly called halt, and everyone settled for a few hours respite.
The padlin war consel sat in the main tent and looked bleakly at each other.
It looked hopeless.
All offensive battles had ended or were coming to an end.
They were now firmly on the defensive, but had holed up in some pretty well dug in places.
Everything now rested on Granemor and the road south.
The man who wasnt there heard all their consel before departing.
A padlin awoke with a start.
Was that a whisper in the wind?
A clak over the leaves?
She shifted to her side.
Nothing.
Then a black arrow fell and buried itself in her throat, muffling her scream.
The forest itself twisted as numerous shadows came alive and enshrouded the sleeping soldiers.
End of Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Slaughter at Dawn
The dawn of a new day revealed the extent of the slaughter.
Pools of blood soaked into the armour and cloaks of necromancers, who shivered as their power replenished.
Dyson stood in the middle of the wrecked command tent.
Artix and his generals had long since gone, and they had only hit the outer reaches of the column when the padlin commanders retreated.Still, it was a great victory.
Every body was being devoured and reanimated.
The mysterious necromancers were actualy involving themselves in the fight, which was almost unheard of.
One hovered by a tent post, watching Dyson intently.
It was the presence of this figure that confirmed they still didnt trust Dyson.
Which was probably wise.
A sudden movement sent everyone scrambling for cover.
Diviara landed lightly on the balls of his feet.
Dyson had moved not an inch. There were things of more imediate concern than the communicate.
He bent down and extracted the pitchfork from the ground where he had thrust it.
It shimmered and subtly flexed. It was a living weapon, and remnent of darker times.
He slew the previous owner with his own hands, then took this weapon to wield.
The wise eyes of Diviara looked at him for an instant, then continued looking round at the necromancers who thought they were hiding in the trees.
"Well?"
The former mantle wearer looked sharply at him, "Well what?"
"What are you doing here? You still resist the war, as you resist fleeing and talking. What are you doing?"
Diviara sighed. No one had on eithher side grasped the bigger picture. Except maybe this one.
"What I want, and what I seek, are different things...Lord Yasden"
Dyson prickled, he had abandoned that name years ago. He was ashamed of the so called necromancer hierarchy.
"Do not call me by a dead name."
"And yet you ask me what my buisness is? Where do you get your presumptious authourity if not from your station?"
"You do not wish to fight me, fallen one. You may have praticly invented the cold, but you know how that fight will end"
Diviara shifted. "I meant no offence of course. Mearly to ask for some reflection on your actions"
Dyson smiled, "so what do you want?"
"Peace"
Dyson waved that away, "we are trying to do that already"
"Are you? You think they will stop once the padlins are all dead?"
"No"
The leading mantle wearer melted into the tent. Trust them to defend their warmongering.
"If you do not wish to join us, leave us fallen one."
Diviara smiled wryly at the hooded figure.
"It seems you havn't forgiven me for abandoning the order."
The hooded man stared in hatred, "we never shall, you are a traitor to the order, and outcast of your own kind and now even a hypocrite in this war."
The wearer raised his hand to shoot energy into Diviara.
He got to the rasing his hand part before a blade sliced through it.
His howls were extinguished moments later with another fluid swipe.
Necromancers flew at Diviara.
Shadows curled around the tree's as a wave of darkness flattened all of them.
Diviara looked around to see Dyson eliminating the other side other the forest.
The shadows flicked through weaker necromancers, killing them quickly to get to the more experienced ones.
They even tried fighting back. A dozen darkness shots rained down on him, transphorming into daggers that lauched into the chests of the casters.
They removed them only to watch the daggers explode into sticky fluid, coating them untill they choked.
One Litch fired a lance at Dyson, who caught it, smacked down on the head of the dead mage, then lunged up, nailing the lance through his skull.
Black lighting burned through the air from the pitchfork, devouring many undead minons and their summoners.
Diviara skewered one last enchanter, before stepping back to watch the master at work.
The remaining order members moved from the cover of the tree's, unsheathing blades of fire, ice and energy.
Dyson even saw the glow of Awe weapons between them.
One met his end with his comrades spear through his gut.
The others dashed with inhuman speed towards the lone necromancer lord.
They smacked into the wall of shadow that had suddenly sprang from the earth.
They hacked and slashed through to find...
Nothing.
An axe, a boot, a swipe, and sword.
All found their way into the cloaked figures.
A flash of lightning eliminated another.
One suddenly twisted as his blood turned to stone, then ice.
The two remaining stabbed at a darting figure, who cried out before landing before them.
Dyson walloped the shadow behind the hood.
He felt it connect, then swept back his other upraised hand and crushed the hand of the necromancer behind him.
The man fell and Dyson twirled at kicked upwards.
The necromancer flew backwards and fell into a puddle and lay still.
A dagger of shadow opened up his back.
Dyson yelled out as he turned and took the mans kneck in his hand.
Lifting him up, he unleashed the darkness down his throat.
Then he oliterated the last enemy, and turned towards the still figure of Diviara.
"You still hate me right?" said Diviara.
"Oh certainly, but I hate the order more.
It's the main reason we are in this mess right now.
Before them, we just had self proclaimed lords running around.
We fought each other, not the rest of the world."
Diviara frowned, "You prefered that?"
"Well, yes. What do you think we did at the annual summit?
It was just an excuse to throw bricks at each other from a safe distance."
"Perhaps, but that chaotic system didnt help us at all"
"Really? And when you and your Hoods turned up, windled power out of the strong and crushed the weak...that was better?"
The two men actualy grinned. They could not deny how their kind loved to destroy things.
Maybe it was time to change that.
Or at least, remove the order from necromancer buisness.
Dyson looked at Diviara.
"This is what you wanted? Me to attack the order?"
The silence answered the question.
"Why?"
"Its time to adjust the structure of necromancer society"
"You know, we don't have a society"
"Indeed"
They laughed a little, before setting down details.
Dyson had to call a summit, now.
In this time of war, that would be nigh impossible.
But he was Lord Yasden.
And there was a reason the others had tried to kill him 2789 tiimes over the years.
The rest of the time, they usualy listend to their fears and bowed to his wishes.
Although, to be fair, the only wish he had ever asked of them was to slit their own throats.
Hmm, so coming to a meeting seemed fairly reasonable to him.
As Diviara flew away, Dyson actualy felt a strange sensation.
Hope.
End of Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Leverage
The walls held strong.
The men were steady.
The baliste were strung.
The doors were sealed.
It would not be enough.
The men and women of Granemor stood and waited for the war to arrive here.
Commander Grey had been fighting on the plains of the dark forest for three days.
His troops were losing, dropping like flies.
The bone troops, now the size of giants, stomped towards them.
He steadied himself, then charged forwards.
He leapt onto thearm of one trooper, climbed onto the soldiers and hacked downwards, toppling the giant over and lightly landing next to it.
Another took its comrades place. This time, Grey blasted it with holy light, before smashing into it with his shield raised.
They both fell into a ditch, filled with sharpened sticks to break a necromancer charge.
It stared at him with stupidity.
He stared back with pity, this thing should not be fighting him or anyone else.
A moment later, he decapitated the trooper and leapt out of the trench.
And flew straight back in, forced back by a wave of dark energy from a necromancer feeding off his men.
His rage exploded within him. He releashed the light within and let it spread through out his body.
With holy might, he blasted out of the trench, caught the necromancer within his enlarged hand and crushed his life force out of him.
He threw his axe into the chest of another, batted a blow with the body of the limp necromancer in his hand and then threw it into another squad of undead fodder.
Orienting himself, he took a curious glance around the battlefield with his new height.
They needed to get out of here. It was clear they could not stop the advance to Granemor and Krieger would need all the help he could get when they got to the walls.
Bellowing out, he sounded the retreat, then cannoned into the masses of undead.
After all, he hadn't planned on going back to Artix alive anyway.
As the undead struggled to subdue him, the padlins faded away with cires of anguish and fear.
A hooded man strided forwards and raised his arm like a whip.
Commander Grey fell silent.
Dyson was getting nowhere.
He had the insuferable lords of necromancer round the table, but their attention was...mislaid.
He restored it by frying one of them.
They fell silent.
"Right. Thankyou for your co-operation. We are hear because the Order of the Mantle is driving necromancers down a path none of us are comfortable with."
He was unsure whether that was true, even with himself. Afterall, the padlins clearly were an irritating enemy too.
The others were of the same opinion.
Above their cries, one shouted, "What! Even if we could remove them all, we want this war with the padlins! Once they are dead, we have the Western Continent in our grasp!"
Dyson sighed. Lord Buloply was always an outspoken member of the necromancer coven. Maybe it was the name...
Anyway, he couldnt kill him, not without upseting Obsidian, as he was one of her favourites.
Probably because of the name...
Eh, the names. Everyone had awful names. Except perhaps Lord Darquess, who as per usual, hadnt bothered to return from the battlefield to listen to him.
Dyson sighed. He wanted Darquess here. It would certainly have had made things easier.
Particularly because everyone in the room had seen Darquess trash the vampire queen once for spilling his tea.
That particularly unsettled Lord Scion, who had always had a close dealing with, and even a grudging respect for Safirina.
Zorback was another problem.
He was irritating. Oh yes.
But he had quietened conciderably since they had put him on a spit over the fire.
And of course, there was everyone else.
Everyone hated everyone else.
Everyone had at least tried to kill everyone else at least five times.
Suffice to say, there was a layer of mistrust in the room.
"Right then people. Lets get started"
The crypt was gloomy.
Of course it was.
Now however, it was full of people too.
Undead minions, too stupid to even open their mouths, held the chains.
They clattered as the bones moved without lubricant.
The hooded man continued to pour energy and blood into the husk.
He reflected, while he worked, that this was truly a beautiful creature he was making.
Suddenly, he broke the tendrils off.
He turned and waved his arm.
The undead collapsed into the rotten bones they were.
The chains fell to the floor with a clang.
And Commander Grey opened his eyes.
End of Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
The Negotiator
"What have we got?"
The room was in full attention now.
"The war concil is consulting."
"Refugee's are fleeing the forest."
"Commander Grey and Coueraservi have been sighted"
Dyson whirled round to the speaker.
"What!"
Well, the report was poorly defined but from what I gather..." the man muttered.
"That isnt good. What were they doing.?"
"Grey was heading towards a battle with a padlin battalion, and the other was seen speaking to the Loremaster..."
The room exlploded.
Now there were other forces at work in the war.
As if wiping out padlins wasnt problem enough.
Dyson was measuerd as he asked, "And their conversation?"
"Was unheard of by the scout."
Excellent.
Dyson had to regain control be smacking the pommel of the pitchfork on the ground.
The sound shook the foundations of the room.
"It matters little. They cannot directly intervene with this war, and surely won't...
There are other matters to discuss.
The lords and ladies were not happy with the proposal to back-stab the order, but they agreed to try.
Dyson left them still talking away, and stroud out the door.
By the lakeside, he raised the fork, tapped three times on the ground and walked through the parting water.
It sealed up behind him.
There was now a bubble of air moving at his pace through the lake.
Fish fled from the mysterious new object.
When he got to the door, he knocked politely.
The study was well lit and cosy.
The books aligning the wals were glowing with runes.
Two dragons watched his progress through the lair.
At a large desk, worked Darquess.
A map spread out before him.
On it were the the battles and troop movements for both padlins and necromancers.
One was getting too close to a refugee train, their slow progres had allowed the battle they had fled from to catch up.
Darquess traced a line on the map and then focused.
The line grew red.
Dyson knew a wall of fire had just sprang between the attackers and the innocent.
He marveled at the power, the control and even the care the figure in front put into his work.
Darquess turned.
He was shrouded in layers of pure white robe.
A hood covered his head and left no space for eyes to see out of.
Or see in.
He gestured.
"The war grows out of hand."
Dyson nodded, "The morons up there were of the same opinion."
Darquess walked so smoothly he seemed to glide.
On a smaller table lay a letter from Coueraservi .
Dyson stared.
"When did this come?"
"Yesterday"
Dyson snarled,"But he is our enemy at a time of war! Why are you in contact with him?"
Darquess inclined his head towards the letter.
"He contacted me. H eis, despite what you and the others might think, not our enemy.
He regognises the limitations of the padlin order.
They and you are both guilty of labling yourselves and others by names which barely cover you.
What is necromacer and padlin?
There are evil and good in both.
There are different kinds of both.
There are people, such as myself, who are both.
Therefore, you see, the problem and shortsightedness of this war."
Dyson nodded slowly, then quickly shook his head.
"Sorry, no I don't."
"Hmm, well, there are many necromancers you know of, yes?"
"Yes"
"And they are all different, yes?"
"But of course"
"So, would you call them all by the same name and therefore judge them the same?"
....
"No"
"Precisly my point ... and his.
Now, to answer your question, Falerin will only aid the refugee's escape.
He has, it seems, decided it is justifiable.
Now, as you said, there are more worrying thing at hand"
"Which is?"
Darquess gestured towards the map.
Dyson glanced at it, then was suddenly running past the dragon guards towards the door.
He emerged from the lake to find the fortress in flames.
The sound of fleeing and dying lords reached him.
He stared around for the cause of the devastation.
He found it in the cold black of the hood.
The mysterious necromancer stood alone.
Raising his hand, he held it aloft.
The fortress crumpled to dust.
Dyson started forwards, but a shadow fell across him.
He flung himself to the side, put a hand caught his ankle and threw him into the dirt.
Raising his head, he stared into the eyes of Commander Grey.
In Holy Might mode.
End of Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Burning bridges
The axe whirled around Grey's head.
Dyson narrowly avioded being spliced as he dived left into cover.
He took another look at the necromancer.
He was the one that he had rode with before setting camp.
The figure wasn't the head of the order, indeed Dyson was not sure the Mantle had such a leader, but he was very close to the top.
That meant he was probably as strong as Dyson. Maybe more so.
Light exploded around him as the spell forged a miniture star around the ditch where he lay.
He jumped out of the fusion reaction before being hit in the face by the oversized gauntlet.
Hew grunted and fell backwards.
"Okay," he muttered.
He assesed the situation. Normaly he would doge attacks untill the padlin in Holy Might ran out of power.
But in this case, he probably shouldnt wait around for that to happen.
He didnt like the hooded figure watching him.
The man was too relaxed. He was clearly in control of Grey, to a degree at least.
The commander was not corrupted yet.
So maybe...
Dyson stood to his full height and hurled the pitchfork.
It whistled through the air and found its mark.
In the suprised necromancer's chest.
A scream shot through the clearing.
It brought both the padlin and Dyson to their knees.
They looked up.
Stared at each other.
The necromancer control was gone.
But the padlin was still in Holy Might.
Their fight continued.
The necromancer watched as he lay dying.
He was not afraid, it was somthing they had prepared him for since birth.
All that was left of him to do was to eliminate the upstart... and also the experiment specimen.
Shadow started to leak from the wound.
Condensing off him, it rose into black steam.
Black blood was devoured by the ground.
Tendrils of shadow hunted through the ground, looking for the raw material required.
Grey was knocked to the ground by a darkness wave.
As he stood, Dyson slid beneath him, crossed his arms over his chest, then swept them forwards.
Twenty daggers of darkness buried themselves into the underside of the padlin.
He howled and swatted Dyson away.
And then they both turned to stare at the space where the necromacer was supposed to be lying.
The earth ruptured as bones, rotting flesh and other refuse flew towards the hooded corpse.
They surrounded it.
The bones, organs and flesh melded together.
Shadows provded the lubricant.
The thing stood onto two legs.
Eight feet tall.
Ten feet.
Twenty.
Thirty.
A giant cyclopse skull rammed down onto the massive spinal tip.
A single eye was rotting quietly inside the socket.
Dragon orns attached either side in a downwards curve.
Another skull, a Humkan(?) giant this time, melded over the top of the first.
Bare sockets here, but it gave the thing three 'eyes' to see with.
A burst of fire screamed from its mouth.
The abomination roared and charged towards the two combatants.
Three seconds into its charge, they looked at each other, raising their eyebrows to mentaly convey 'Truce?'
Then they sprang to action.
The padlin seemed to be in a permenant state of Holy Might, so charged straight at the monster.
Dyson stood further back, and took up the mass of shadows in his hands.
Then he began to orchestrate with blackness.
Individual waves hit the monster, which raised one mostly flesh and muscle hand to fend them off.
Padlin leapt high to chop it off.
Unfortunatly, the other arm of the beast elongated.
The mostly bone of that arm tore at Commander Grey for a moments, before being gripped and pulled away by Dyson's shadows.
A blast of fire (from the clearly dragon in orgin throat) knocked the padlin back nd into a heap on the ground.
Then it turned towards Dyson.
Dyson reached for his pitchfork...
Which was still in the monsters chest.
It tore it out, roaring in triumph.
The weapon surged with power.
Under protest, it elongated to match the abominations size.
Dyson's arms went to his sides and collected as much Energy as possible.
He hadn't done Energy Elemental theory for 50 years and was very rusty at matter shielding.
But it was his only chance.
Black lightning spurted towards him.
He unleashed all of the Energy he had collected, and for good measure, reinforced it with shadows.
It turned concave and produced a magnificent shield that would have made Zephyros poud.
It was not enough.
Cracks began to appear almost instantaniously and Dyson knew he was finished.
The lightning broke through and charged towards the necromancer.
He stood straight and felt the rush of the blast.
Commander Grey finaly came too and watched the abomination laugh in triumph before turning and charging.
In the direction of Granemor.
End of Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Here comes trouble...
As Commander Grrey raced off after the monster, Dyson was falling through darkness.
No wait, flying through darkness.
As he adjusted from the shuddering blast that had preceded the lightning, he heard the beat of wings.
He groaned, "Where you watching the whole time?"
"Only since the bit when that monster appeared," Divira replied.
They were flying through the air, following the rampage that the creature had created through the forest.
"Im going to need some help with this one," Dyson admited.
"Well, I'm still a neutral party, and will remain so. But take this."
Dyson had the longsword pressed into his spare hand.
"Really? This thing?"
"Appearances are deciving Lord Yasden."
Divira took the sword back from the glaring Dyson, pointed it at a stretch of trees and light erupted from the sword, producing a powerful beam that obliterated the now lifeless section.
"Oh, okay then," Dyson said.
The ambomination had reached Granemor.
The necromancer's camp lay to the left, the city walls to the right.
Both sides cried out in horror at the sudden appearance of their doom.
Then the trees behind the monster rippled as Grey charged into battle.
Both sides were looking on as swipes, punches, kicks, roars and fire were thrown around the clearing.
The commander clambered onto the beast's chest, carved it open and pressed his hand to the wound.
As he was flung away by the bone hand, the star forge spell he had cast blew through the monster's body.
The padlins cheered on the wall.
The necromancers watched with interest.
Dyson landed lightly on the balls of his feet on a rocky outcrop above the fighting.
He watched as Grey threw absolutly everything at the creature and the creature threw everything back.
Entertaining as it was, the man was his temporary ally, and so Dyson concentrated.
Whirling both sword and pitchfork in hand, he suddenly struck both to the ground.
Darkness and shadow curled around both as he murmered quiet instruction.
The tendrils wrapped around his body, forming a smooth layer of blackness.
Then, more attached on and hardened into dark plates of armour.
Then finaly, his head was coverd and he stepped forwards, enshrouded in the shadow armour, that writhed and breathed with power and life.
The padlin commander was on the point of collapse.
The monster reared onto its legs, stared down at him, then took him in one hand and began to crush him.
The armour plate buckled, releasing lightning strikes of light that the creature ignored.
Grey stared into the one giant orange eye and the empty sockets of the skull stared back.
He lashed with his last burst of strength and shot fire into the massive eye.
The creature screamed.
Grey was flung aside into the wall of a rocky outcrop.
The eye had ignited.
It fell from the skull and burst onto the ground.
It continued to revolve and targeted the commander.
It filled with rage and pain, before it began to melt.
The crature now only had empty sockets to see with, yet loacted the padlin through the unnatural sense that detected light in the man's soul.
It turned, waited, then stumbled forwards.
Then Dyson landed in front of Commander Grey.
The ambomination flew backwards.
Dyson flicked both weapons downwards and blasted both light and dark energy at the downed monster.
And again and again, over and over he continued to fire.
The creature had no respite.
It pummled the ground with a giagantic fist, sending a shockwave straighttowards the necromancer.
The armour absorbed all the kinetic energy of the wave, then stamped the ground, sending it all back again.
The monster flipped onto its stomach.
It roared as it struggled to get up.
It's jaw broke and fell off.
Now tendrils, dozens of them, flooded from the chest of the armour.
They tore underground, found secure holdings to latch onto, and then carried on towards the monster.
They became chanins and leashes, securing the creature to the ground.
It now could not move an inch.
A jet of black liquid spat into the face of the beast, prefenting any speech, sight or hearing.
Dyson started frowards.
He wondered as he walked, what would be effective in killing this thing.
Decapitation cetainly but then. decapitiation worked on everything.
Fire perhaps, but that would take a long time.
A stab through the heart would require a heart and precise knowledge of where it was on the body.
The creature was still trying for freedom though.
Tentacles burst from its chest, converting tissue and bone and shadow into impliments.
They grabbed necromancer and padlin from their respective camps.
Dozens were pulled into thr chest.
Silence.
The gut of the beast erupted and out burst an army of zombies and bonemen(I suggest bone folks).
Dyson whirled the sword so fast it you could see it cutting the air.
Then he dived into the fray.
Slice after slice, block after block.
The dead minions fell before him.
Still, he stared at the bloodied sword.
It seemed these weapons were not his thing.
He sheathed it in shadow and switched to the pitchfork, as more soldiers beltched from the stomach of the beast.
Lightning struck from the prongs and Dyson continued forwards.
The ambomination snapped its chains.
Rising, it stood up to its full height.
The damge done to it had been repaired.
Dyson admired the beast's efficency.
It took only fifty men to replenish its entire power base, and then it left over some lifeforce in them to attack him.
It kicked the silent dark knight into Commander Padlin, who was just getting up.
It produced four more squads of bonemen(I suggest fleshless soldiers) and zombies from its mouth.
The two former enemies just stared at the thing.
They were not going to beat it.
Not before it leveled the town and killed the necromancer army, walked to Battleon, did the same there and came back again.
The beast wore the deathly smile plasterd on its skull with conviction, as it and its miniture army grew closer and closer to the wounded men.
End of Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
In the darkest day...
They stood.
Commander Grey dusted off his enlarged eight foot form.
Dyson rose up beside him, slightly smaller at seven foot.
He was slightly disgruntled by this; before Holy Might, Grey was half a foot smaller than him.
He glanced at the elven padlin.
He nodded back.
They were on the defensive now.
Grey hunkerd down below his oversized shield and took blow after blow before sweeping several enemies through the middle with his axe.
Dyson shadow walked into the middle of the zombie mass.
They turned dim-wittedly.
He smiled, shoved a tiny particle of shadow down the throat of a gaping minion, then dashed away.
The zombie went black, burst open and tendrils of darkness griped everyone in a ten metre radius and pulled them together iin a big crunch.
The sword flicked from its sheath into his left hand, blocking a pike that was flung wildly at him by a boneman.
A few black knights charged him with their pikes and shields raised.
He sidestepped, whiped shadows under thier feet and threw them to the ground.
Then, their own pikes impaled them.
Padlin defence training was very good.
And Grey was grateful for it.
However, the trainers had not aticipated fighting WITH necromancers, and so Grey was unused to such fluid and powerful attacks.
He adapted quickly, throwing daggers of light into the section of zombies Dyson had trapped in a shadow whirl pool.
The necromancer grinned at him, then fired lighting over the commander's shoulder into a archery squad of bonemen.
The two camps, one Padlin, one Necromancer, watched with facination as the othersides combat streamlined their own.
They began cheering on the combatants, even firing a few shots themselves.
All the time however, the commanders of both armies were quiet and staring into the other side's defenses, looking for weakness.
But the younger generation of both groups were begining to consider joining the fight together against this monster.
They were held back by the gates on the padlin's side, and the Order of the Mantle's stares on the other.
Dyson eyed the balliste on the walls of Granemor.
They could give the monster somthing to think about.
However, there was a danger of them firing at HIM instead.
Dark clouds were forming over the horizon.
All eyes flicked to the development of clearly magical effects.
The mantle wearers smiled under their hoods.
They could taste what was in the air.
The abomination was moving towards the double team.
Dyson flew at him, the armour increasing his formidable strength as he crashed into the chest cavity.
He was tearing through the inside of the beast now.
Diviara's longsword was beaming light all through the body system, ensuring the dark creature was cooking nicely.
Commander Grey lauched onto the flesh arm, hacking the ligament that was already rotten.
It came away and the arm hung uselessly.
He flung himself onto the left arm, using the bone ridges to clamber up towards the shoulder.
When he reached it, he leaped upwards and cast his full weight down through his axe.
He sliced through the bone and cut the arm clean off.
The monster staggered from a sudden blast on its back.
The padlins were firing on it!
Dyson suddenly hightailed it out of the body of the beast, leaving behind a small runestone.
Grey backflipped off the falling arm and sprang away.
The runestone shone.
The innards of the abomination exploded into a fiery inferno.
In a few seconds, its body was consumed in flames.
It screamed and jumped around.
Soon, there were only bones and shadows left.
It stared blankly at Dyson.
Then curled tightly into a ball and unleashed all of its remaining energy at him, abandoning its former host.
Dyson stood calmly as it reached him.
It suddenly changed direction, screaming with fury as it tried to get away.
But it was too late.
Inch by inch, it was swallowed up by the pitchfork.
It gleamed with the energy it had enjoyed.
Dyson looked fondly at it, then looked to the commander.
He stared back.
They both walked towards each other.
For a moment, they considered attacking.
Then they extended their hand to each other and shook.
Dyson let his armour leak away.
Grey sheathed his axe.
They spoke to each other for the first time.
"Seems we have a reason to keep you lot alive."
"It seems my order judged you too hastily."
The comrades smiled and turned to Diviara.
"Your sword," Dyson proffered.
"You don't want it?" Diviara sounded pleased and also slightly insulted.
"Not really, swords are not my thing,"
"Hmm, well at least we seem to have stopped the fighting."
"For now," observed the padlin.
"Thats true, I'm heading to Battleon to observe another fight," Diviara said.
"What about that?" Dyson pointed.
They all looked towards the blackening clouds.
"It could be nothing," Grey said hopefully.
Then multi-coloured lightning spasmed across the sky.
The clouds moved onwards, towards Battleon.
Dyson turned back to Diviara.
"You have your work cut out for you now."
"Indeed, stop the fighting and get people to observe the clouds," Diviara said.
He flew off and the two remaining comrades started to walk towards both the camp and the city, hoping to stop the war that would destroy them both.
There was hope though. There always was.
Then the balista fired again, shooting Dyson directly through the heart.
End of Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
...Came first truth...
The body slopped onto the floor.
Grey heard a soft gurgle from the necromancer, and then a quiet sentence, "...Good shot...."
Dyson faded from conciousness and the necromancer army roared in anger and suddenly charged from their camp.
Granemor's fate was now being decided.
Commander Grey loked up at the approaching horde.
They split in a wide circle around him and carried on towards the city.
The feint cries of battle were carrying over the wind.
The battle was underway, the gate had broken and the necromancer masses swarmed the city wall.
The commander was franticly searching for an undead that still had energy remaining in it.
He found one, and threw it on top of the still necromancer.
The darkness trickled into Dyson, who musterd enough strength to regain conciousness.
"Ow."
Grey glanced at him from his snetry post.
His elf eyes viewed the battle from afar.
The padlins were losing; the slow crawl up the city streets was wearing down the defense but also the attacking forces.
"Okay, so how bad is it?"
Grey looked down to him again.
"Fairly awful, with a good chance of death."
"Hmm, okay then. Urgh, seems I have no choice."
Dyson shifted his memory back to old knowledge, older training and earlier battles.
He raised his arm in the air and brought it down onto his wound.
Dyson's hand erupted with light.
Grey felt the energy used to heal the wound.
His eyes narrowed considerably.
This fellow was far more than he seemed on the surface.
The healing over, Dyson slowly got to his feet.
"Well?"
Seems to have repaired your chest very well."
"Yes..."
The padlin shifted onto his left leg.
"You are trained in the padlin arts."
It was a statement, a fact.
They both knew it took years for padlins to develope the skill and power to sustain that kind of spell.
"Yes," Dyson repeated.
"Where did you learn it? More over, who from? Who did you torture this information out of?"
The anger was raising in Grey's vioce.
Dyson sighed.
"Always the worst thoughts come into your mind. Listen, I had... a different upbringing to most of the other necromancers..."
Grey waited.
Dyson sighed again.
"I am, or was, the son of High Padlin, Fenrialus."
The padlin commander gawped at the silent figure.
High Padlin Fenrialus was a legend in the order.
He had personaly brought down sixteen members of the Order of the Mantle, fought hundreds of battles against undead hordes and founded the modern padlin training regime.
He was, without a doubt, one of the greatest and finest men ever to walk on Lore.
The Lady of Light agreed.
It was often suspected Fanrialus was a communicant, or even the avatar of Light on Lore.
His name was hallowed by even Artix himself.
"The High Commander had no children."
"And he always said Lore needed a better records office."
Grey growled.
"You betrayed not just the order but your own father to the necromancers!"
Dyson, for the third time that evening, sighed deeply.
"Have you learnt nothing from the fight we just had? We are not paper cut outs of evil you seem to think we are. Do you know how much we helped in the Devourer Campaign? The attack against Carnax? The fight to stop Erebus? No!
You take comfort in your ignorance of our way of life, our view of life and death. We are not transparent souless monster, Commander!"
Grey was stunned into silence.
Then he regained his voice.
"Are we going to Granemor?"
"Since you asked, yes. I fear for the saftey of the townsfolk when they get into the hands of the mantle wearers."
"And you want to find out who decided to take a pop at you too, right?" added Grey.
Dyson looked blankly at him, then shrugged.
"Regardless of who did it, I'm going to murder Artix for the things he has made everyone do in this war."
As they began walking down the slope to the city, Grey asked, "So, have you mentioned this little fact to anyone before?"
Dyson smiled.
"I'm over three hundred years old. There is alot I havn't told anyone."
End of Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
...Then Blood.
"Run!!!"
Dyson darted over the wall as Commander Grey was thrown straight through it.
The both landed and continued running.
All around them, necromancers where being torn apart.
Who knew that the padlins had spent the entire time inside Granemor charging their power.
So when the attack started, every single one shifted into Holy Might mode...even some of the weaker grunt soldiers.
What happened next could be sumarised by the piles of bodies and shadows pouring from them.
Artix and five hundred other padlins came charging like a bulldozer into the pair.
Dyson managed to put three down, but they were just too hard to kill.
Grey was actualy on the back foot, because he couldn't damage the padlins with his light attacks, and they were almost as strong and fast as he was.
Dyson leapt up to the main wall, vaulting over several padlin cleric casting light spells that instead blasted into the inn.
He looked at the battle.
It was going awfully well for the padlins.
They were killing legions of necromancers.
Zorback was being hung up and used as a punch bag.
Lord Buloply was being dragged across the floor screaming as padlins threw light spears and bricks at him.
Dyson snorted a little.
Then he was blocking the sword, mace and axe of three commanders.
Commander Grey... well actualy, ex-commander now he thought of it, was fighting on the ground.
It seemed Artic had sanctiond his execution.
His former squad rushed him and tore at his face.
He slew them with tears running down his cheeks.
Dyson was running along the parapit. The thud of boots behind him were gaining.
He flicked his pitchfork, the night curled around him and he shifted to Commader Grey's position.
"Time to go, time to run."
Grey looked at him, "What? No, we have to stay here."
"They are going to win this fight, and then they are going to burst forth and kill as many necromancers as possible while they have this power."
"We still cannot leave here like this."
They paused and killed a charging beserker padlin who was destroying the entire street.
"Okay, time to go."
They both leapt onto houses adorning the street.
Then, onto the wall.
They took another look at the city.
It was on fire, but the darkness shroud that had engulfed it a few minutes before was clearing.
But the onne growing over Battleon was getting larger.
A ballista took the wall from beneath them.
Dyson fell to the ground outside the city, the shadows slowing his descent.
He looked at Grey.
The ex-commander was broken on the ground.
Blood gushed from shrapnel from the ballista.
His neck was twisted and ribs were tearing through his skin.
Grey was unmistakebly dead.
The gates opened and the remaining necromancers collapsed onto the road.
They were crushed under foot as the padlin horde charged over them and headed to Darkovia.
Dyson watched them go.
Six hooded mantle wearers stepped from the shadows around the flickering city fires.
They formed a circle around the sitting Dyson.
Then they erupted into shrieks and yells as balls of darkness and fire flew into them.
Zorback came into view smirking, even though he had several large brusies on his stomach from the punching, kicking and other horrors.
"Oh Dyson, what am I going to do with you?" a breezy vioce asked as Obsidia floated in.
End of Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Time to go
The padlin ex-commander woke up.
Which, given the situation, as suprising for him.
He looked around.
The darkness of a crypt engulfed him.
His powers of light were bound by the intesity of the death here.
Dyson walked in, "Oh, you're awake then."
Grey moaned,"How?"
A single word, but it required complex explination to answer it.
Dyson sighed and sat down.
"You were not just put in a constant state of Holy Might. Your life force provided the energy to keep it sustained. You are trapped between life and death. A thing. An object."
"A zombie," the commander mutterd.
"A self healing one too," added Dyson. "You not only have the power of Holy Might at your disposal, but your healing has rendered you invincible as long as you sustain Holy Might. And since you cannot switch off Holy Might..."
He trailed off.
"I cannot die?" Grey gasped. This was every padlin's worse nightmare. Being enslaed by necromancer magic for eternity.
And yet...
His eyes narrowed,"You killed my previous master..."
"Ahh, yes. That would imply that I am your master now, yes? No, it is not so. Why your superstious padlin mind is still so narrow minded I don't know."
Zorback edged in behind Dyson.
"We still have the... ah...."
"Ah yes, thankyou Zorback," Dyson withdrew up the staris.
Zorback was left with the padlin in the dark.
"Er..yes, you can hit me all you want but..."
"Oh good!" said Grey as he took out all the pent up rage inside him onto this poor fallen little creature.
Several hours later, Dyson returned.
"We do indeed have a problem, commander...er, former commander?"
Grey grunted from the corner of the room.
Dyson ignored the dangling Zorback yelping from the ceiling and crossed over to him.
"Look, the battles across the globe have ruptured the balance between light and dark."
"What does that mean?"
"Put simply, the gods have left us. Every single padlin and necromancer is forsaken. The leilines are gone."
Grey leapt up.
"What!" he thundered.
"We have to move. Zorback and Obsisia cannot house us any longer, they too must flee for now. We must hide from the victourious padlins while we try to restore the power to both sides."
"So, thew padlins won?"
"Yes."
"Then the wrong side won. I herby apoligise on behalf of my former order. I will serve alongside you untill I am obliterated or untill we suceed."
"Thankyou my friend."
"By the way, I have my inate Holy Might, which I guess has not been affected by the withdrawl because its powerd by me. What happened to everyone else.?"
"Light magic and dark magic...necromacy(necromancy) and padlins...are extinct. Here...." he tried to flick the shadows, they ignored him as they did every soul in the room.
"Then, why should we run from the padlins?"
"Because they still are the best warriors in the land, have massive armies and we ourselves are fairly vunerable for the moment."
"So what can YOU do now?"
"Well, luckily, I am not just a scholar of light and dark magic."
The wind howled into the room, earth erupted around them, fire grew in his hands and water and ice fell from the roof.
The ex commander stood.
"Okay," he said, "I get the picture."
The padlin expiditionary force was gaining on the pair.
It didnt help that on the other side of the river, the mantle wearers were chasing them as well.
They too had more at their command than just necromancy.
"Keep moving!" shouted Grey. He had the speed advantage over both pursuers, but was held back by Dyson, who was understandbly slower than usual.
They reached the river split and crossed to the other side.
Now the padlins had to cross and go through the mantle wearers to get to them.
Dyson however, was not moving anywhere quickly at themoment.
He whistled into the buffeting wind, Grey now sprinting on ahead to find-
-a massive cliff edge with nought but desert plain below.
"Dyson!" he yelled, "we're stuck up here!"
Dyson kept running, looking up at the sun.
They crashed into each other and toppled over the top.
The griffon caught them before they began screaming.
Dyson clambered onto her back, stroking her feathers as she screeched to the world.
"By the way," he said," she's called Kerina."
Grey nodded dumbly, still keeping his eyes rooted on the ground.
Dyson relised that if the padlin wasnt healing constantly, he waould be green round about now.
He laughed quietly to himself as our three heros spead off to the eastern lands in search of adventure.
And the legend continues
(But that is literaly another story)
< Message edited by Tep Itaki -- 3/2/2013 10:33:44 >
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