Discord
Changelog
10-22-2015, 04:29 PM
The sound of thunder echoed in the distance as the young man shuffled through the books in the chamber old library, splotches of rain trickling in spots of the room where the ceiling had been damaged long ago. Looking through the dusty tome a cold passion could be seen from the man's eyes. Looking across the room he watched the body of a girl, dried blood marking runes and symbols beneath her were visible in the dim torchlight the room had.
"She had been dead too long, and none here would help one from wence his father came." He knew that it was up to him and him alone to accomplish the feats within the tomes left over since his passing. His body trembled as his eyes beheld the ritual upon the old tome's pages once more. He knew that this magic was far beyond his ability, but it didn't matter. He approached the runic circle and began an incantation, weaving the arcane. The words and gestures came awkwardly from the novice but he kept on, an almost otherworldly determination in his actions. The circle began to glow a deep crimson as he could feel the very blood in his body boil, his skin begin to decay, and his hair turn to a greyish silver. The corpse began to twitch and wriggle with life as the man sank to his knees, continuing to utter the dark forbidden necromantic words inscribed upon the spellbook. The body opposite him rose to its feet with as it rose, its body rising with a sickening twitch, its spine cracking as it did so.
The ritual circle faded as the man stopped reciting the words, the decaying body standing howling out in pain. "N-no. My sister." His words came out quietly, overshadowed by the pained cry of the abomination. The book fell to the floor by his side as tears slid down the man's face.
Pulling the knife from his belt he pressed upward and forward, impaling the body with the knife over and over. Fresh blackened blood leaking from the wounds. "F-failure..." he muttered. She made a sickening gurgling sound as the thing that was once a human girl collapsed to the ground once more unmoving.
His whole body trembling and covered in the evidence of his sin, his mind slipped away for a time. Trapped in the inevitable confrontation of utter defeat. He was unable to save her. He was powerless, and now alone. Not strong enough when it mattered. His broken body a testament to his failure, he felt himself losing his mind as well. Desperately he grasped at a single ideal. That it would never end. He would continue, and find the strength through the weapon of his father. Magic. The power to even challenge the Gods lie in such a weapon. He would return his sister, and one day he -would- succeed.
"She had been dead too long, and none here would help one from wence his father came." He knew that it was up to him and him alone to accomplish the feats within the tomes left over since his passing. His body trembled as his eyes beheld the ritual upon the old tome's pages once more. He knew that this magic was far beyond his ability, but it didn't matter. He approached the runic circle and began an incantation, weaving the arcane. The words and gestures came awkwardly from the novice but he kept on, an almost otherworldly determination in his actions. The circle began to glow a deep crimson as he could feel the very blood in his body boil, his skin begin to decay, and his hair turn to a greyish silver. The corpse began to twitch and wriggle with life as the man sank to his knees, continuing to utter the dark forbidden necromantic words inscribed upon the spellbook. The body opposite him rose to its feet with as it rose, its body rising with a sickening twitch, its spine cracking as it did so.
The ritual circle faded as the man stopped reciting the words, the decaying body standing howling out in pain. "N-no. My sister." His words came out quietly, overshadowed by the pained cry of the abomination. The book fell to the floor by his side as tears slid down the man's face.
Pulling the knife from his belt he pressed upward and forward, impaling the body with the knife over and over. Fresh blackened blood leaking from the wounds. "F-failure..." he muttered. She made a sickening gurgling sound as the thing that was once a human girl collapsed to the ground once more unmoving.
His whole body trembling and covered in the evidence of his sin, his mind slipped away for a time. Trapped in the inevitable confrontation of utter defeat. He was unable to save her. He was powerless, and now alone. Not strong enough when it mattered. His broken body a testament to his failure, he felt himself losing his mind as well. Desperately he grasped at a single ideal. That it would never end. He would continue, and find the strength through the weapon of his father. Magic. The power to even challenge the Gods lie in such a weapon. He would return his sister, and one day he -would- succeed.