"Take away what they hold dear."

All about Galmair and its Guilds. / Alles über Galmair und die Gilden in Galmair.

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Post by Kugar » Sat Oct 21, 2017 7:00 pm

"Take away what they hold dear."

It was the strained smile on what was left of Gray's rotting lips that would reveal his amusement, on what was otherwise a sagging sack of decaying flesh upon his face.
Sitting on the rising stack of skulls he declared as his throne, Moshran's commands echoed in the abomination's thoughts like a wild crescendo, drowning out the marching beat that had occupied his mind ever since the dawn of his resurrection.
"Look what they have done to you, just as traitors did to me."

"Take away what they hold dear."

"Have them lose faith."

"Have their gods betray them..."
There was still much work to be done but, in order to achieve it, he would need to drive the mortal beings right into the palms of his hands.
Such distractions would keep them busy, he surmised. After all, what better way to foil one's efforts toward disrupting your plans than to make them believe you have none at all?
"...Then they will understand fear, then their suffering will begin."

"Galmair first."

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Post by Kugar » Sun Oct 29, 2017 2:54 am

Re: "Take away what they hold dear."

Standing under the scorching glare of Dragorog, in his unholy temple, Gray bowed his undead head low to the master of the evil flame.

It was in times like these, after such lengthy and blood drenching battles, that the abomination would find its own sense of belonging, for what such a 'mortal concept' was worth. For, in his own twisted mind, the fiery thirst for vengeance that kept his black heart beating was no where more at home than the fortified walls built by messengers of death that came before him. Those who would also pledge their allegiance to the 'rightful', more 'worthy' gods of Illarion.

After leaning his creaking bones to rest his partisan by the podium, Gray unsheathes a fine, shimmering sword of merinium. Extending his arm to hold out his bony hand, he exhales a low hiss before proceeding to slice a deep, calculated incision across his palm. As the dark blood from his bulging veins begins to seep, he retracts each of his clawed fingers to clench his trembling fist, allowing it to flow and pulsate more rapidly. Reaching the bleeding limb over the podium, he allows the trickling crimson liquid to scatter and spatter upon it, and the dusty old occult book that sits in its rest.

"Dragorog, Here my call!"

The abomination proclaims sharply, pulling back its hand and rolling down its dark robed sleeve. Then proceeding, without much convincing, to make another long cutting incision, this time deeper, along its left forearm.

"Dragorog, all mighty. Thee who commands the dragon kin... Master of dark paladins..."

The abomination begins to belch a screeching howl, swapping the merinium sword into his bleeding palm, imitating the former violent acts of cutting his palm and making a deeper incision in his right forearm.

"Breath, unto me, your unholy wrath... Act through my vessel, your own thirst for vengeance..."

"Hear my name! I am Lord Gray!"

Allowing his sword to fall clattering by his feet, Gray extends both of his, now soaked in blood, wounded arms to trickle the dark crimson liquid that flows from him chaotically upon the temple's floor.

"Take away what they hold dear... Chsk... The collapsing of the mine tunnel should prove a spear in the heart of their profits..."

"But I haven't even gotten started, yet."
Last edited by Kugar on Mon Nov 06, 2017 12:53 am, edited 2 times in total.

Posts: 548
Joined: Wed Jul 23, 2008 5:07 am

Post by Kugar » Mon Nov 06, 2017 12:40 am

Re: "Take away what they hold dear."

Resting his tormented legs on the table of the grand hall in Cherass' castle, Gray wrote upon an old scroll, that he had kept with him since being brought back to the mortal realm, with a blood soaked raven's quill...

SENT TO CHERGA IN HONOR OF MOSHRAN

Krukk Krakash, Cadomyr
Lizzie, Cadomyr
Hri'ssna, Cadomyr
Amanda Brightrim, Cadomyr
Tialdin Elderking, Galmair
Artimer Fault, Galmair
Ranwyln, Galmair
Amira Ranevskaya, Runewick
Deanna, Runewick
Sardon, Runewick
Unknown lizard zeolot, Unknown
Foolish and weak mortal orc, Unknown
Pitiful dwarven archer, Unknown
Even more pitiful dwarven miner, Unknown


"Chsk... Moshran will be pleased, but it isn't nearly enough!"

Running his index claw down the page, he would stop at a particular name and ease his crackling neck back to belch out a maniacal laughter...

"What a glorious slay Deanna proved to be! Such ample distraction from the Malachite Mine collapse. Oh, how the head strong 'heroes' of this land utterly adore running into danger, head first... They never fail to amuse!"

Inhaling a deep, agonizing breath, the undead lord would soon throw the soiled quill away with as much care as he had shown those around him, before easing both of his hands around the scroll to roll it back up with all the respect he could muster.

"As the sands of time fall steady and wear thin, they soon shall see the punishment for their latest... Chsk... 'Expedition'."

Posts: 548
Joined: Wed Jul 23, 2008 5:07 am

Post by Kugar » Thu Nov 09, 2017 1:58 am

Re: "Take away what they hold dear."

As the bubbling moat of molten lava danced ferociously around the inner dwellings of the nameless mountains, creating a warning plume of billowing smoke, Lord Gray leaned his aching bones against Bjolmur's altar. The salve that his master had given him proved to do just as he said it would, rejuvenating his undead body and allowing its flesh to begin an unholy healing process. Though, whilst this gift would bring with it a more powerful vessel, brimful of strength, it would not be without its cons. Namely, that it would awaken his nervous system, making Gray ever more aware of the scathing pain of his wounds. Trembling with anger, the abomination would add two more names to his list...

SENT TO CHERGA IN HONOR OF MOSHRAN

----
Caswir Drakull, Galmair
Sefja, Cadomyr


The decoy squadron of legion that awaited outside of Cadomyr, in the most recent battle, provided Gray the chance to lure out his victims and enact his revenge upon one of those responsible for sending him in chains to the empty void of the underworld. Sefja, who had dealt the finishing blow that would decapitate his head, would finally add to the decoration of his gore soaked partisan. Though, while revenge was sweet, the battle was not without its losses. Gate guard Horatio's arrows cut the battle short, sending the apostates to flee before they could do any more damage.

The time had come to rebuild, he surmised. To grow stronger... He would need to manipulate the world around him so that it may do his bidding. The time had come for the wind itself to carry the stench of death...

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