Lord Zee
Vec
JFK
Fetzen
Thayr
BingTheWing
42nd Gecko, if the Klug champion plays his cards right I'm willing to let him kill Fangir. It might be interested to have Shaige contend with the loss of the sole person who could control the Mutig, forcing him to interact with the tribesmen directly. Or I could just take the easy way out and say that the guy had a kid, who would then become archdruid and fulfill the exact same purposes. Options, options...
BBeast, I've been wondering what would happen if Shaige encountered Calvartem. The two Keepers are very similar, but I can see one key difference driving them apart. Shaige is a necromancer because he divines power from death and keeps around living humans, for use as sacrifices, workers, and such. Ironically, Calvartem isn't really a necromancer, at least linguistically speaking. He's more of a necrouge, somebody who wields power over death. He kills every human he encounters so that he could raise them as undead. That small difference could cause a pretty big schism, at least if they ever try to work together.
In any case, being so close to each other, I think it's getting to be about time that Calvartem and Shaige learn of one another's existence. Perhaps some of Shaige's minions chase a warband of Klug deserters out of the forest and into Calvartem's lands?
Cyclone
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Back when dinosaurs ruled the Earth, I got started with writing online on the Spore forums. Man, those were the days. We're talking like 12 years ago 2010-ish!
I've been here on and off for almost as long, and have GM'd a bunch of different things to varying success.
I've been here on and off for almost as long, and have GM'd a bunch of different things to varying success.
Word of my splendor:
Most Recent Posts
Shaige continued up the path, the resolve of the defenders beginning to break. Many of the soldiers were fleeing for the woods beyond. The pain elementals caught some, but a good amount were still allowed to escape. Pursuing them would be of little purpose. The Klug's warlike nature meant that their neighbors would hardly be keen to welcome them. The other tribes were now watching their borders more intently than ever; these renegades would either starve in the woods, or resort to plundering. Whether they stole from the other forest tribes or fled the woods to Paterdomus' hinterlands, they would no doubt be hunted down and then hanged like the wretched cravens they were.
As the pain elementals rushed in for a bloody battle to secure the temple and dispose of the horde of mages, Shaige's attention was drawn to Ifrit. The wraith's pair of piercing eyes saw the monster clearly, through the smoke, flames, and pandemonium that had taken over the temple's serene outside. For whatever reason the scion had singled out one mage. Standing there, it almost looked as if he was toying with the human, or trying to converse with it. In the middle of the battlefield? The foolish beast!
A moment later, the mysterious woman performed an amazing feat of geomancy by bending the very rock of the hillock to engulf Ifrit, imprisoning the beast. After what seemed only a brief pause, the entire cliff face was gone. It was replaced by a thunderous boom, a great cloud of heavy, choking dust, and a cascade of falling stone. It took Shaige a moment to discern what just happened. The cavity that had trapped Ifrit had exploded, sending the beast (and a few tons of rock) flying and tumbling down the hillside, into the burning village. The Keeper now understood. This had to have been the infidel that had created the false star, an affront to his power. Now, the worm dared to attack one of his favorite minions?
This battle had proved far costlier than expected. However, thus far he had merely lost a few pain elementals and shadow beasts. While useful, the pain elementals were inferior. They were weak, had little capacity for anything spare mindless charges. They had no potential, which made the Keeper view them as even more lowly than the weakest of his Mutig followers. The shadow beasts were more valuable, however he would be able to summon that back or replace them with just some time and magic, both of which the Keeper possessed. Ifrit, on the other hand, was irreplaceable. With a seemingly unshakable loyalty combined with great strength and enough intelligence to use it, Ifrit was of a rare sort. Though some of the rogue being's last thoughts of his master had been cross, they were misplaced. Though all but impossible to tell, the Keeper had grown fond of Ifrit, and each of his distinguished minions.
So it was that Shaige abandoned his advance up the path, leaving the pain elementals to clear it for him. The wraith's form dissipated into the air, as if it had been as insubstantial as a wisp of smoke. Before Emily had time to muse over the possibly vanquished Ifrit, she would no doubt be alarmed to feel a trembling in the air behind her. The odor of burned flesh, Ifrit's heavy smoke, the metallic taste of blood, all these and many more worked in synchronization to overwhelm the senses. However, one particularly distinct and pungent smell was added to the mix: the reek of the underworld, a scent twice as revolting as the rest combined.
If Emily was not as blissfully unaware of her surroundings as an infant in its cradle, the feeling in the air, the horrible stench, and the feeling of two piercing eyes boring into her back would be enough to make the woman turn around. She would see Shaige, in all his glory and all his modesty, standing a few mere arm lengths away. Statuesque he was, poised in such a way that one could sense he was inquisitive, perhaps even bemused, even though his form was alien and rather featureless. "So this is their great sorceress," the wraith thought to himself.
Slowly, tactfully, he raised a hand. Emily did not burst into a fountain of blood, she did not have her soul ripped from her body, and was not slaughtered by her own shadow nor choked by near invisible fingers of unholy smoke. Shaige possessed the ability to do any of those things, at least on most mortals, but instead he had chosen to spare Ifrit's life. The beast quickly faded away, becoming transparent before translucent and finally vanished. The Keeper had whisked the Infernal King's Scion back to the spirit realm, in much the same way as he had when the two first encountered one another. In his comatose-like state, Ifrit would be unmolested by the plane's resident dead.
===---_---===
Fangir's face wrinkled with hatred when he recognized the Klug's champion. No doubt his adversary recognized him as well; their tribes had warred since both their grandfathers had been infants. The archdruid fell to the ground in order to avoid his foe's unexpected attack. Rolling in the damp earth to escape the reach of the champion, Fangir spotted some briars stubbornly poking out from the mud, refusing to be buried. With a flick of his wrist, the archdruid manipulated the plant. The thorns wrapped around the Klug champion's foot, digging their thorns through his clothing as they struggled to keep him entangled for a few moments.
Scrambling back to his feet a short distance away, Fangir cast another spell. His hair turned a verdant green, the color of moss. His skin grew crass and darkened in color. His flesh was being magically transformed into solid wood. With oaken flesh, the archdruid would be slower, but also far more resilient. As the transformation rapidly occurred, Fangir spat. He said to the Klug champion, "My younger brother. He was burned alive, crushed beneath the rubble of his own home when the Easterners sacked my village. Your tribesmen rummaged through his charred bones, looking for plunder to take home from my burned village, from my fallen kin. I'll piss on your corpse!"
The Mutig chieftain's right hand grabbed a dagger from his side. The blade was chipped and crooked, looted from the body of one of the knights that sacked his village. The battered handle of the blade still had a worn engraving of a prayer to Caldor's might. The archdruid brandished that blade, ready to counterattack any moves from the champion, while his left hand began to glow. Beneath the mud, in the subsoil, were hundreds of small stones. If the Klug champion did not move quick and interrupt Fangir's spell, he would find himself pelted by dozens of small, sharp rocks that would burst out from the bog underfoot.
As the pain elementals rushed in for a bloody battle to secure the temple and dispose of the horde of mages, Shaige's attention was drawn to Ifrit. The wraith's pair of piercing eyes saw the monster clearly, through the smoke, flames, and pandemonium that had taken over the temple's serene outside. For whatever reason the scion had singled out one mage. Standing there, it almost looked as if he was toying with the human, or trying to converse with it. In the middle of the battlefield? The foolish beast!
A moment later, the mysterious woman performed an amazing feat of geomancy by bending the very rock of the hillock to engulf Ifrit, imprisoning the beast. After what seemed only a brief pause, the entire cliff face was gone. It was replaced by a thunderous boom, a great cloud of heavy, choking dust, and a cascade of falling stone. It took Shaige a moment to discern what just happened. The cavity that had trapped Ifrit had exploded, sending the beast (and a few tons of rock) flying and tumbling down the hillside, into the burning village. The Keeper now understood. This had to have been the infidel that had created the false star, an affront to his power. Now, the worm dared to attack one of his favorite minions?
This battle had proved far costlier than expected. However, thus far he had merely lost a few pain elementals and shadow beasts. While useful, the pain elementals were inferior. They were weak, had little capacity for anything spare mindless charges. They had no potential, which made the Keeper view them as even more lowly than the weakest of his Mutig followers. The shadow beasts were more valuable, however he would be able to summon that back or replace them with just some time and magic, both of which the Keeper possessed. Ifrit, on the other hand, was irreplaceable. With a seemingly unshakable loyalty combined with great strength and enough intelligence to use it, Ifrit was of a rare sort. Though some of the rogue being's last thoughts of his master had been cross, they were misplaced. Though all but impossible to tell, the Keeper had grown fond of Ifrit, and each of his distinguished minions.
So it was that Shaige abandoned his advance up the path, leaving the pain elementals to clear it for him. The wraith's form dissipated into the air, as if it had been as insubstantial as a wisp of smoke. Before Emily had time to muse over the possibly vanquished Ifrit, she would no doubt be alarmed to feel a trembling in the air behind her. The odor of burned flesh, Ifrit's heavy smoke, the metallic taste of blood, all these and many more worked in synchronization to overwhelm the senses. However, one particularly distinct and pungent smell was added to the mix: the reek of the underworld, a scent twice as revolting as the rest combined.
If Emily was not as blissfully unaware of her surroundings as an infant in its cradle, the feeling in the air, the horrible stench, and the feeling of two piercing eyes boring into her back would be enough to make the woman turn around. She would see Shaige, in all his glory and all his modesty, standing a few mere arm lengths away. Statuesque he was, poised in such a way that one could sense he was inquisitive, perhaps even bemused, even though his form was alien and rather featureless. "So this is their great sorceress," the wraith thought to himself.
Slowly, tactfully, he raised a hand. Emily did not burst into a fountain of blood, she did not have her soul ripped from her body, and was not slaughtered by her own shadow nor choked by near invisible fingers of unholy smoke. Shaige possessed the ability to do any of those things, at least on most mortals, but instead he had chosen to spare Ifrit's life. The beast quickly faded away, becoming transparent before translucent and finally vanished. The Keeper had whisked the Infernal King's Scion back to the spirit realm, in much the same way as he had when the two first encountered one another. In his comatose-like state, Ifrit would be unmolested by the plane's resident dead.
===---_---===
Fangir's face wrinkled with hatred when he recognized the Klug's champion. No doubt his adversary recognized him as well; their tribes had warred since both their grandfathers had been infants. The archdruid fell to the ground in order to avoid his foe's unexpected attack. Rolling in the damp earth to escape the reach of the champion, Fangir spotted some briars stubbornly poking out from the mud, refusing to be buried. With a flick of his wrist, the archdruid manipulated the plant. The thorns wrapped around the Klug champion's foot, digging their thorns through his clothing as they struggled to keep him entangled for a few moments.
Scrambling back to his feet a short distance away, Fangir cast another spell. His hair turned a verdant green, the color of moss. His skin grew crass and darkened in color. His flesh was being magically transformed into solid wood. With oaken flesh, the archdruid would be slower, but also far more resilient. As the transformation rapidly occurred, Fangir spat. He said to the Klug champion, "My younger brother. He was burned alive, crushed beneath the rubble of his own home when the Easterners sacked my village. Your tribesmen rummaged through his charred bones, looking for plunder to take home from my burned village, from my fallen kin. I'll piss on your corpse!"
The Mutig chieftain's right hand grabbed a dagger from his side. The blade was chipped and crooked, looted from the body of one of the knights that sacked his village. The battered handle of the blade still had a worn engraving of a prayer to Caldor's might. The archdruid brandished that blade, ready to counterattack any moves from the champion, while his left hand began to glow. Beneath the mud, in the subsoil, were hundreds of small stones. If the Klug champion did not move quick and interrupt Fangir's spell, he would find himself pelted by dozens of small, sharp rocks that would burst out from the bog underfoot.
Kangutso said
Cyclone, there's no more mud to hinder your forces.
Well, I must have misread it. I thought that they only removed the water inside the village to set it on fire, and that outside was still practically a swamp.
I'll go edit something later.
Shaige's might would have been a spectacle to behold were it not so terrifying. With an unorthodox mixture of finesse and sheer brutality, he felled every man that tried to challenge him as he ascension up the temple path. A cloud of mystic smoke suddenly appeared in front of one charging warrior at the last moment before he reached Shaige. Blinded, the man thrashed and thrust his spear wildly. A ghastly blade materialized in the wraith's hand, and the spirit effortlessly cleaved the man in half with the sword of solid smoke and shadow. Another met a similar fate, Shaige grabbing him by the throat before hurling him to the side with an unearthly amount of force. Wreathed in the Ripper's cataclysmic magic, the wraith's touch had been enough to render the man dead before he even struck the ground and shattered half his bones.
The massacre came to an abrupt halt. The puny Klug shielded their eyes, but the Keeper raised his head to see the massive fireball, the luminosity of which was enough to light up the entire village. Filling the air with unnatural, piercing shrieks, the shadow beasts that had covered their master's advance were suddenly left terribly vulnerable. Still half blinded, the desperate warriors managed to banish the monsters back to the spirit realm while the things were incapacitated by the light. Summoning the shadow beasts once more would take incredible effort and no small amount of time.
His ire now unleashed, Shaige's rasping voice swept over the entire battlefield like a frigid northern wind, "The darkness is bottomless, amaranthine, inevitable. The accursed light may never triumph for long. Your light shall be extinguished by the Shadows. Your wives and children will fill the air with their wails and lamentations, until the Smoke fills their lungs and ushers deathly silence. The Blood shall flow in rivers. Your Souls shall be mine. The warriors, now recovering from the sudden appearance of Emily's star, desperately hurled more javelins at the malevolent spirits. The light having banished the encircling shadows that had protected Shaige, the spears hit their mark. Then, they simply crumbled to dust upon coming into contact with the Ripper's ruinous magic that cloaked the Keeper.
The wraith outstretched one skeletal finger towards the fireball in the sky. The unadulterated magic of the Ripper that currently composed Shaige's robes began to glow more intensely. A scintillating, vermillion mist of raw power surged towards the artificial sun. The fireball reddened. For a moment, it seemed as if nothing had happened. Then the sun violently exploded. Its bloodied flames fell down like napalm. They showered the temple path and the already burning village. They bathed the flattened top of the temple in fire.
The great blazes everywhere allowed one to see reasonably well, but they also created equally great shadows. Shaige lifted a hand, and great clouds of unholy smoke emerged from the corpses of the fallen. The vile substance found its way to the shadows of the surviving warriors that guarded the terraces. The shadows touched by Shaige's black magic suddenly sprung up from the ground, gaunt, elongated, and black as midnight, but otherwise identical to the men that they proceeded to mercilessly assault.
Shaige turned around to hear the thunderous footsteps of Ifrit, coming from somewhere within a great cloud of smoke. Behind the rogue being trailed a horde of pain elementals. The spirits had been largely unaffected by the sudden conflagration in the village. Not particularly vulnerable to flame, and capable of simply flying upwards and hovering above the fires, the few of the things had fallen. Shaige allowed Ifrit to draw the attention of the ragged remnants of the defending forces, following the beast up the path towards the temple.
The pain elementals gathered near the bottom of the path, spotting the two groups of incoming defenders that were retreating from Soran's forces. That army would have no easy time hacking their way through a couple hundred angry spirits in order to pursue Shaige.
===---_---===
The moment that it became clear that the klug were falling back to their temple, the zealots abandoned their formation and surged forward as a loose group of individual soldiers. If any Klug turned around to loose javelins, they would find that the zealots' tower shields served them well even without a rigid formation. The hundred zealots followed after one of the two groups. That particular group would likely suffer horrific casualties, the zealots catching up and attacking their rear the moment that they stopped to fight their way through the pain elementals.
The druids and bowmen continued to loose their projectiles until the Klug were well out of range. Then, they too took off in pursuit. Unlike the zealots, they possessed only ordinary strength, and as such the mud greatly hindered their progress. They likely would not be swift enough to partake in any more fighting before the battle was already done.
===---_---===
With a mixture of awe and fear, Soran beheld the fake sun as it hung suspended in the sky, basking the battlefield in light. The construct had never seen such an incredible feat performed by any save his master, and for a moment doubt crept into his heart. The Klug were proving to be far stronger than any had anticipated. Had the Dark Lord met his match?
The imp construct spotted Shaige partway up the path. The Klug outside the village were now falling back, making a beeline for the Keeper and the temple. Soran's master was no doubt in need of help now more than ever. Without another thought, the imp construct ran after the second of the two groups, the one the zealots were allowing to flee unchallenged. By scorching the ground ahead with demonic flames, the construct instantly baked the earth dry and was able to move unhindered through the bog. The imp construct ran even harder, emboldened as Shaige brazenly addressed the pathetic humans. When the wraith's thunderous voice vanished and the battlefield became quiet by comparison, Soran could discern the sound of footsteps coming from behind.
The demonic general had expected that one of his nine imp subordinates had gathered the courage to follow him to battle, so naturally he was disappointed when it was suddenly Fangir that was running at his side. The construct had neither love nor trust for Fangir. Soran would hardly be shocked if the archdruid tried to assassinate him amidst all the chaos of the battlefield. Regardless, those thoughts were interrupted by the false sun's sudden explosion that shook the battleground.
((I don't have time to do another fancy list of casualties and remaining forces. All the shadow beasts are dead except to that owl that stayed in the forest after sending the pain elementals. As in for the pain elementals themselves, let's say that another 25 have died since that last post of mine.))
The massacre came to an abrupt halt. The puny Klug shielded their eyes, but the Keeper raised his head to see the massive fireball, the luminosity of which was enough to light up the entire village. Filling the air with unnatural, piercing shrieks, the shadow beasts that had covered their master's advance were suddenly left terribly vulnerable. Still half blinded, the desperate warriors managed to banish the monsters back to the spirit realm while the things were incapacitated by the light. Summoning the shadow beasts once more would take incredible effort and no small amount of time.
His ire now unleashed, Shaige's rasping voice swept over the entire battlefield like a frigid northern wind, "The darkness is bottomless, amaranthine, inevitable. The accursed light may never triumph for long. Your light shall be extinguished by the Shadows. Your wives and children will fill the air with their wails and lamentations, until the Smoke fills their lungs and ushers deathly silence. The Blood shall flow in rivers. Your Souls shall be mine. The warriors, now recovering from the sudden appearance of Emily's star, desperately hurled more javelins at the malevolent spirits. The light having banished the encircling shadows that had protected Shaige, the spears hit their mark. Then, they simply crumbled to dust upon coming into contact with the Ripper's ruinous magic that cloaked the Keeper.
The wraith outstretched one skeletal finger towards the fireball in the sky. The unadulterated magic of the Ripper that currently composed Shaige's robes began to glow more intensely. A scintillating, vermillion mist of raw power surged towards the artificial sun. The fireball reddened. For a moment, it seemed as if nothing had happened. Then the sun violently exploded. Its bloodied flames fell down like napalm. They showered the temple path and the already burning village. They bathed the flattened top of the temple in fire.
The great blazes everywhere allowed one to see reasonably well, but they also created equally great shadows. Shaige lifted a hand, and great clouds of unholy smoke emerged from the corpses of the fallen. The vile substance found its way to the shadows of the surviving warriors that guarded the terraces. The shadows touched by Shaige's black magic suddenly sprung up from the ground, gaunt, elongated, and black as midnight, but otherwise identical to the men that they proceeded to mercilessly assault.
Shaige turned around to hear the thunderous footsteps of Ifrit, coming from somewhere within a great cloud of smoke. Behind the rogue being trailed a horde of pain elementals. The spirits had been largely unaffected by the sudden conflagration in the village. Not particularly vulnerable to flame, and capable of simply flying upwards and hovering above the fires, the few of the things had fallen. Shaige allowed Ifrit to draw the attention of the ragged remnants of the defending forces, following the beast up the path towards the temple.
The pain elementals gathered near the bottom of the path, spotting the two groups of incoming defenders that were retreating from Soran's forces. That army would have no easy time hacking their way through a couple hundred angry spirits in order to pursue Shaige.
===---_---===
The moment that it became clear that the klug were falling back to their temple, the zealots abandoned their formation and surged forward as a loose group of individual soldiers. If any Klug turned around to loose javelins, they would find that the zealots' tower shields served them well even without a rigid formation. The hundred zealots followed after one of the two groups. That particular group would likely suffer horrific casualties, the zealots catching up and attacking their rear the moment that they stopped to fight their way through the pain elementals.
The druids and bowmen continued to loose their projectiles until the Klug were well out of range. Then, they too took off in pursuit. Unlike the zealots, they possessed only ordinary strength, and as such the mud greatly hindered their progress. They likely would not be swift enough to partake in any more fighting before the battle was already done.
===---_---===
With a mixture of awe and fear, Soran beheld the fake sun as it hung suspended in the sky, basking the battlefield in light. The construct had never seen such an incredible feat performed by any save his master, and for a moment doubt crept into his heart. The Klug were proving to be far stronger than any had anticipated. Had the Dark Lord met his match?
The imp construct spotted Shaige partway up the path. The Klug outside the village were now falling back, making a beeline for the Keeper and the temple. Soran's master was no doubt in need of help now more than ever. Without another thought, the imp construct ran after the second of the two groups, the one the zealots were allowing to flee unchallenged. By scorching the ground ahead with demonic flames, the construct instantly baked the earth dry and was able to move unhindered through the bog. The imp construct ran even harder, emboldened as Shaige brazenly addressed the pathetic humans. When the wraith's thunderous voice vanished and the battlefield became quiet by comparison, Soran could discern the sound of footsteps coming from behind.
The demonic general had expected that one of his nine imp subordinates had gathered the courage to follow him to battle, so naturally he was disappointed when it was suddenly Fangir that was running at his side. The construct had neither love nor trust for Fangir. Soran would hardly be shocked if the archdruid tried to assassinate him amidst all the chaos of the battlefield. Regardless, those thoughts were interrupted by the false sun's sudden explosion that shook the battleground.
((I don't have time to do another fancy list of casualties and remaining forces. All the shadow beasts are dead except to that owl that stayed in the forest after sending the pain elementals. As in for the pain elementals themselves, let's say that another 25 have died since that last post of mine.))
Well of course she wouldn't know Shaige's plans. Nobody does, because for whatever reason he refuses to share so much as his name to even his most loyal subordinates.
I was just saying that if things unfold that way, you can kiss Ifrit's offer goodbye. Shaige would be enraged to have the temple blown up, and even if it doesn't kill everybody inside it would make getting them out considerably harder.
I was just saying that if things unfold that way, you can kiss Ifrit's offer goodbye. Shaige would be enraged to have the temple blown up, and even if it doesn't kill everybody inside it would make getting them out considerably harder.
Ah, I had been envisioning the temple as a huge, stone dome-like structure atop a terraced hill. It seemed a bit excessive and grand for a bunch of tribal people without even a proper wall around their settlement. Well, Shaige would have had a hard time destroying a cave temple anyways, so at least I have no regrets about blowing up the magical sun instead.
...and deny Shaige the 5,000 unarmed people (soon to be slaves, if all goes as Shaige plans) that were the main reason he bothered to attack the Klug. Boy, Emily would sure make some enemies, and dangerous ones at that. I have to wonder why she'd even want to massacre all those people, though.
KabenSaal said
On the magical front, Emily is unusually powerful for a Rogue Being. But her physical aspects are barely about a standard humans.So, Reading Ifrit's post, and unless Shaige does something big, I'm going to blow up the temple Emily and Ifirit are currently on ;p
...and deny Shaige the 5,000 unarmed people (soon to be slaves, if all goes as Shaige plans) that were the main reason he bothered to attack the Klug. Boy, Emily would sure make some enemies, and dangerous ones at that. I have to wonder why she'd even want to massacre all those people, though.
Eh, with some creativity combined with the abilities of an almighty Keeper, your guys could probably hold of against a larger army, especially in a defensive fight. But if you want to wait or just not have the battle, then that's fine.
Yes, this battle escalated pretty quickly. In any case, it's a lot more interesting than a simple one or two post pillaging like I had originally planned. Anyways, 4nd Gecko, if you want I could repay the debt and RP against you with a bunch of slavers from Erimos, or something.
And that sun...KabeenSaal stole my grand idea!
When the High Prophet of Caldor and Shaige finally encountered each other on the battlefield, I had planned for the prophet to summon a second sun and scorch the entire battlefield. Well, no worries. I was originally going to have Shaige summon the Ripper's power and use it to wreck that temple, but now he can just vaporize the huge fireball in the sky that's ruining everything.
And that sun...KabeenSaal stole my grand idea!
When the High Prophet of Caldor and Shaige finally encountered each other on the battlefield, I had planned for the prophet to summon a second sun and scorch the entire battlefield. Well, no worries. I was originally going to have Shaige summon the Ripper's power and use it to wreck that temple, but now he can just vaporize the huge fireball in the sky that's ruining everything.KabenSaal said
So how does magic work now the sun is corrupted?
It's largely unaffected, at least as of this point. Think of the Ripper's destructive magic as food coloring, and the Source's pure magic as water. It only takes a few drops of food coloring to contaminate a whole jug of water and make it look red, but the thing is still mostly water.
Soran and the zealots soon discovered that the dusk night had concealed some treacherous terrain. The ground was soaked, perhaps by some workings of water magic, and as one approached the village the shard earth underfoot soon turned into a muddy bog. Their dense formation and the darkness itself worked to hinder their progress across the treacherous terrain. Their boots sinking into the mud and their formation unable to stay cohesive at even a slow march, the zealots had two options. They could break formation and simply charge the javelin-throwers as an unorganized mob. The Klug would no doubt be taken off guard and scared by the unnatural speed and strength that the zealots could summon once out of formation, but they would still claim many lives before being routed, assuming the zealots could even break them.
The other option, and the only one that made sense, was for them to maintain the testudo formation and hold put. Their shieldwall was strong. In the dark and from a distance, the Klug were unable to reliably throw their javelins into the impossibly small target that was the miniscule spaces where the shields did not overlap. What few lucky attacks did make it through either missed or were largely stopped by the infantry's heavy armor. As such, the zealots were in no need to hurry. They could conceivably stay put and absorb the suppressive fire until the Klug ran out of spears.
Of course, they would not have to. A javelin, even when thrown with an atlatl, could not hope to match the range of a longbow. By moving close enough to engage the zealots, the Klug had put themselves into range of the Mutig druids and archers that had behind. Granted, the lightly armored rangers maintained a safe distance so that no javelins could be thrown over the zealots and into their ranks, so their aim would be compromised to some extent. The night's darkness and the bog beneath their feet did not help in this regard, either. Still, with a hundred and thirty druids and archers, some projectiles were bound to hit their mark.
Soran was somewhat irked by the Klug not taking the bait and responding as expected, but it was looking like they would soon have to retreat. With these javelins unable to do anything save pin down the zealots, and the bowmen beginning to claim the lives of those who advanced to throw their javelins, the demonic general saw little options that the Klug had left. The very bog that they had created as a defense would prevent them from moving around the zealots to attack the Mutig tribesmen. Bearing a sadistic smile now that victory was within sight, the construct summoned a great fireball and lobbed it across the battlefield, into the midst of the javelineers' ranks.
===---_---===
The pain elementals were unsurprisingly seen the moment they emerged from the treeline, but that hardly compromised their surprise attack. Flying, they were able to rapidly descend upon the village unhindered by the muddy ground and barricades. Of course, the warriors by the temple did not sit idly by; many of the burning javelins found their targets, yet many also missed. It was difficult to hit a quick moving, flying target. Still, it mattered little, for this temple had not been the pain elementals' target. The vast majority of the screaming ghosts flew right around the temple, over the terraced path full of men trying to stop Shaige, and into the village. There, they emerged from behind the homes and assailed the scattered reserve force that was trying to slay Ifrit. Several of the spirits had turned their attention to the temple, though.
With reckless abandon, for their agony had already driven many insane and the dead needn't fear death in any case, they descended upon the defenders. Up close, almost all of the pain elementals were simply skewered in melee by the blessed javelins. However, there were two or three that closed in without being hit, and a few that survived glancing blows from the weapons. Those few pain elementals would likely be all it would take to throw the warriors outside the temple into a scared and disorganized mob. Each of the pain elementals exuded an aura of crippling torment, which briefly stunned their prey and allowed them the time to maneuver themselves right into the enemy's midst. Then, as the pain elementals were wont to do, they exploded. In great blasts of fire and agony, the few suicidal spirits that made it into the midst of the javelin throwers would each fell no fewer than five or six men.
===---_---===
Now that night had fallen, Shaige and the shadow beasts were in their element. The former was filled with a dark and insidious strength, while the latter merged with the darkness itself and became nearly invisible. When Shaige's march was stymied by a horde of warriors guarding the path upwards, the shadow beasts scattered. Moving unseen, they continued up the path some ways before suddenly appearing in the torchlight to brutally assault one or two men, before making a quick retreat out of the light. Then, some time later, they inevitably emerged in a different spot. In this way they sought to wreak havoc and distract the defenders from Shaige.
The Keeper, meanwhile, had no need to hide. The shadowy apparition that was the wraith was visible only because of the glow of his amethyst eyes, and of the absolute black of his body. Beneath the stars, his body was a blob of pure, jet black, amidst a sea of grey. Still, he was only more terrifying for his inability to be seen. With a mere thought, Shaige ripped the nearby shadows from the objects that they had always been affixed to. The things crawled across the ground like some sort of unnatural, black oil. When they reached the Keeper, they leapt up into the air and began flying in circles around him. The shields of pure shadow were able to buffet and deflect the pathetic javelins.
Seeing that his efforts were futile, one of the warriors decided to set one final spear alight rather than flee. Foolish to a fault, he charged the Keeper. Ducking a shadow that flew to intercept him, the man impaled the shadowy monstrosity that was invading his home. Then, he drove the thing deeper with all his strength. The burning wooden haft went through Shaige's torso. For a moment, nothing happened. The Keeper simply stared in disbelief. Then, the writhing shadows that cloaked the wraith melted away. The blazing javelin sputtered and died from the sheer malevolence of the wraith it had buried itself into.
Shaige was a pure embodiment of the four black magics: darkness, smoke, blood, and soul. With the shadows gone, the glow of his amaranth eyes illuminated the horror that had hid within the mantle of darkness. Shaige was a floating skeleton, drenched in blood, with dozens of wailing souls trapped within his ribcage. A red smoke hazed the air around. The vapor had the horrific odor of burned flesh, yet it looked like some sort of gaseous blood. But the warrior did not have time to ponder whatever the vile substance might have been. The flying shadow that he had dodged now caught him. The gloom itself wrapped around the man's body, pulled him to the ground, and smothered the man to death. However, it did nothing to silence his screams.
Now was the time. Shaige's thoughts resonated through his dungeon heart and were relayed to the Destruction Catalyst. The awaiting Ripper heard the plea, and channeled its strength into the Keeper. At first, Shaige felt nothing. But then a surge of unadulterated destruction magic filled his body. Had he been more substantial, this very well might have inflicted physical harm, but the magical simply coalesced into a new cloak around Shaige's skeletal form. Rather than a dark shadow of a cloaked man, Shaige now glowed like the crimson sun. The area around Shaige began to rapidly weather from the sheer aura of ruination. Seeing some amount of success from the sacrifice of that one warrior, another five or six of the temple guardians charged Shaige. The Keeper waved a hand, and a wall of carmine met the men. Upon coming into contact with the pure destruction magic, their bodies were obliterated. Not even skeletons remained.
The other option, and the only one that made sense, was for them to maintain the testudo formation and hold put. Their shieldwall was strong. In the dark and from a distance, the Klug were unable to reliably throw their javelins into the impossibly small target that was the miniscule spaces where the shields did not overlap. What few lucky attacks did make it through either missed or were largely stopped by the infantry's heavy armor. As such, the zealots were in no need to hurry. They could conceivably stay put and absorb the suppressive fire until the Klug ran out of spears.
Of course, they would not have to. A javelin, even when thrown with an atlatl, could not hope to match the range of a longbow. By moving close enough to engage the zealots, the Klug had put themselves into range of the Mutig druids and archers that had behind. Granted, the lightly armored rangers maintained a safe distance so that no javelins could be thrown over the zealots and into their ranks, so their aim would be compromised to some extent. The night's darkness and the bog beneath their feet did not help in this regard, either. Still, with a hundred and thirty druids and archers, some projectiles were bound to hit their mark.
Soran was somewhat irked by the Klug not taking the bait and responding as expected, but it was looking like they would soon have to retreat. With these javelins unable to do anything save pin down the zealots, and the bowmen beginning to claim the lives of those who advanced to throw their javelins, the demonic general saw little options that the Klug had left. The very bog that they had created as a defense would prevent them from moving around the zealots to attack the Mutig tribesmen. Bearing a sadistic smile now that victory was within sight, the construct summoned a great fireball and lobbed it across the battlefield, into the midst of the javelineers' ranks.
===---_---===
The pain elementals were unsurprisingly seen the moment they emerged from the treeline, but that hardly compromised their surprise attack. Flying, they were able to rapidly descend upon the village unhindered by the muddy ground and barricades. Of course, the warriors by the temple did not sit idly by; many of the burning javelins found their targets, yet many also missed. It was difficult to hit a quick moving, flying target. Still, it mattered little, for this temple had not been the pain elementals' target. The vast majority of the screaming ghosts flew right around the temple, over the terraced path full of men trying to stop Shaige, and into the village. There, they emerged from behind the homes and assailed the scattered reserve force that was trying to slay Ifrit. Several of the spirits had turned their attention to the temple, though.
With reckless abandon, for their agony had already driven many insane and the dead needn't fear death in any case, they descended upon the defenders. Up close, almost all of the pain elementals were simply skewered in melee by the blessed javelins. However, there were two or three that closed in without being hit, and a few that survived glancing blows from the weapons. Those few pain elementals would likely be all it would take to throw the warriors outside the temple into a scared and disorganized mob. Each of the pain elementals exuded an aura of crippling torment, which briefly stunned their prey and allowed them the time to maneuver themselves right into the enemy's midst. Then, as the pain elementals were wont to do, they exploded. In great blasts of fire and agony, the few suicidal spirits that made it into the midst of the javelin throwers would each fell no fewer than five or six men.
===---_---===
Now that night had fallen, Shaige and the shadow beasts were in their element. The former was filled with a dark and insidious strength, while the latter merged with the darkness itself and became nearly invisible. When Shaige's march was stymied by a horde of warriors guarding the path upwards, the shadow beasts scattered. Moving unseen, they continued up the path some ways before suddenly appearing in the torchlight to brutally assault one or two men, before making a quick retreat out of the light. Then, some time later, they inevitably emerged in a different spot. In this way they sought to wreak havoc and distract the defenders from Shaige.
The Keeper, meanwhile, had no need to hide. The shadowy apparition that was the wraith was visible only because of the glow of his amethyst eyes, and of the absolute black of his body. Beneath the stars, his body was a blob of pure, jet black, amidst a sea of grey. Still, he was only more terrifying for his inability to be seen. With a mere thought, Shaige ripped the nearby shadows from the objects that they had always been affixed to. The things crawled across the ground like some sort of unnatural, black oil. When they reached the Keeper, they leapt up into the air and began flying in circles around him. The shields of pure shadow were able to buffet and deflect the pathetic javelins.
Seeing that his efforts were futile, one of the warriors decided to set one final spear alight rather than flee. Foolish to a fault, he charged the Keeper. Ducking a shadow that flew to intercept him, the man impaled the shadowy monstrosity that was invading his home. Then, he drove the thing deeper with all his strength. The burning wooden haft went through Shaige's torso. For a moment, nothing happened. The Keeper simply stared in disbelief. Then, the writhing shadows that cloaked the wraith melted away. The blazing javelin sputtered and died from the sheer malevolence of the wraith it had buried itself into.
Shaige was a pure embodiment of the four black magics: darkness, smoke, blood, and soul. With the shadows gone, the glow of his amaranth eyes illuminated the horror that had hid within the mantle of darkness. Shaige was a floating skeleton, drenched in blood, with dozens of wailing souls trapped within his ribcage. A red smoke hazed the air around. The vapor had the horrific odor of burned flesh, yet it looked like some sort of gaseous blood. But the warrior did not have time to ponder whatever the vile substance might have been. The flying shadow that he had dodged now caught him. The gloom itself wrapped around the man's body, pulled him to the ground, and smothered the man to death. However, it did nothing to silence his screams.
Now was the time. Shaige's thoughts resonated through his dungeon heart and were relayed to the Destruction Catalyst. The awaiting Ripper heard the plea, and channeled its strength into the Keeper. At first, Shaige felt nothing. But then a surge of unadulterated destruction magic filled his body. Had he been more substantial, this very well might have inflicted physical harm, but the magical simply coalesced into a new cloak around Shaige's skeletal form. Rather than a dark shadow of a cloaked man, Shaige now glowed like the crimson sun. The area around Shaige began to rapidly weather from the sheer aura of ruination. Seeing some amount of success from the sacrifice of that one warrior, another five or six of the temple guardians charged Shaige. The Keeper waved a hand, and a wall of carmine met the men. Upon coming into contact with the pure destruction magic, their bodies were obliterated. Not even skeletons remained.
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