Bewilderment...
Such was the reprehensible state within which the dreadful man found himself encapsulated. A scholar at heart, and a meddler by profession, his dimmed hues couldn't help focusing upon the similarly luminous, liquid-filled pod in the center of the otherwise lonely room. Therein floated an inert, male child that had remained yet unaware of his surroundings since the very day that Scionius had made contact with him, roused only to project his dreamlike image to others. It was an odd thing, inevitability. His aggressive vice caused the hooded man to retrieve the youth from what he, himself, had made a hell-scape. 'Twas not but months prior that he had liberated that fell city, brutalizing its would-be dictatorial staff outright...
The sky would be brought alight with abyssal, violet flames that sunk their proverbial fangs deep into the stronghold that was Creodyn. Those whom had sworn allegiance to the dread Scion's cause had already withdrawn from the miserable town in secret, only to be met by and transmogrified into the ghoulish followers that had laid siege to it. Its battlement walls, thought intensely fortified, were swiftly torn away with but a whisper of a spell. At once, the manifold cloaks shuffled in via the newly-formed gaps in their adversaries' defenses, seeing to the absolute slaughter of the fools that deigned to keep hold of their ultimately doomed cesspool. Unholy darksteel claws ripped into the flesh and bones of the surfacing militia, overturning its might with their magic-dampening under-armor. The unfortunate mongrels that had spat curses and obscenities in his presence before would meet their end, sans their martial better's peaceful pretense.
Alas, Scion stepped through the threshold of the crippled barrier and began his trek through the scattered procession of corpses. As each of his dark sentinels seemed to be cut down, he marveled at the astonished grimaces of the Creodynian swords-warriors as they were summarily flayed upon their surprising return. Though he would take a decidedly perverse joviality in the ruin of citadel's pitiful populace, he would steel his otherworldly resolve to advance upon the inner sanctum. his guards had already prepared the pathway, but were then met by a less intricate blockade. Lo and behold, a phalanx had formed outside of the entrance to the fell autarch's chambers, presumably with another of his weakened squads protecting the mad king from within. It was at this particular juncture that they sought their master's counsel, turning to him for orders; however, Scion's mind was made up and his desire was more than clear.
A hand rose up from the shrouded mass that composed his robes, his mask and hood further veiling the look of utter, malicious amusement as a small, pulsating orb formed at his fingertip. It would gradually grow in size and imperceptible density as more, smaller orbs conjoined themselves to the amalgam of unsettling intent that acclimated to him. His long since visible aura grew darker with its temperance to his will, fiercely flaring up into an onyx-violet fury as he fixed both eyes and orb on the doorway. It was as though his hues didn't even acknowledge the shivering souls preparing to die in service to their monster of a ruler. Those pitiless eyes, unyielding to the weak, only registered their continued existence as obstacles....things.
"Igniz..." At last, with naught more than that single utterance, the light that had gathered before him erupted forth in an eerily calm, straight line. Initially, there would seem to have been no purpose for it at all; however, his grin would widen as the entrance, the guards, and his only impetus were incinerated in just milliseconds aft. They hadn't even been given the opportunity to scream before they were blasted into an unrelenting oblivion. At his nod of behest, his myriad cloaks filtered into the fallen hall with haste, the uncompromising shade only following suit when all other bodies under his command had made it inside. Finally, he'd found him, the source of his worries and the bearer one of very few weaknesses he bore. His gaze drew toward the amulet around the gaunt man's stringy neck, it luster causing his blood to boil. He, too, had jeered his approach and additionally sent his court jester to do the same upon his departure. Suffice it to say, that jester didn't exactly exist in the same way anymore.
"Ahh, King Geldas, you elderly fool....Hmhmhmhm. So this is where you've been lurking all this time" And here I'd figured you were more than willing to lead your people into the throes of battle. Yet still, you are here, cowering in your vaunted stool..." His words ringing out with authority and pride, his fabled gaze settled upon the withered old man. His practice was akin to the Seers' own; although, his services were firmly ingrained in the teachings of tiki gods and sacrificial rituals that beings of Scion's kind had rendered obsolete and archaic ages ago. He preached of protection from spirits and gods on high that he'd likely never seen, and now he sat, a fragile and helpless man clinging to a regime that had all but shriveled under his thumb. Nothing stood in Scion's way, now; nothing would protect him this day.
"Y-you! The Dark One! You laid waste to my people! What is the meaning of this"! I....I have done nothing to deserve it! Nary a thing!" A shoddily-crafted prevarication, that. Oh, he would indeed pay for it, as well. Above all else, the Scion that set upon him that day had a rather potent distaste for liars, so much so that he scolded himself with each one that left his own lips. Unfortunately for old Geldy-fool, he'd had his fill of negotiating and treaty-fabricating for the sake of a half-hearted goodwill. He would meet his end here. In the same motion as before, a fingertip would rise to greet the witch doctor, but he would not be so kind as to simply hand him his death. In swift expiration's stead, the sorcerer would curse his form and force it to take to the air above them.
"Dearest friend of a bygone age, I do hope you realize what all of this means for you....I want to hear it from you....firsthand. Whose fault is this...?" His phantom grip on the man would tense, subtly reining his limbs and head in toward his form. Passively, his aura would begin to coalesce about the helpless leader's frame, a disquieted foreboding lurking beneath the surface of his words. Geldas could feel his energy being sapped steadily from him, his skin blossoming with impromptu wounds and burns. There would be no escape for him this time, and he was all too aware of his fate. He couldn't weasel his way free of the meandering tyrant's grasp. "M-m-m....It was....Gck...! Mine! I did this! I gave my city up to the dregs of this land.....So tha....I....coul....bask....in....i....glory..." He would find it difficult to speak as he was slowly asphyxiated by the phantasmal man's magicks. Nay....It was something truly different than spell-force....This was....pure will manifested in physical form.
"Hmhm, yes....That's a much better tone than your misgivings at my expense before....I think that ought to do. Now, what to do with you, what with you being a body-hopper and whatnot' Hmm....I think I'll have you join me....Fill this vessel with your life essence and bring me further to my completion....Die an everlasting death..." With the close of his fist, he would collapse his aura around the frail man's from, crushing him soundly and compacting him into a sphere. The resulting ball of energy would then hover down to Scion's obscured chest and meld with him, slipping into the darkness that was his very being. With that, he would veer about on his heels and take his leave, pocketing the amulet for safe-keeping and later examination. It was by pure coincidence that he should be halted once again by his now evacuating guards. The shadowy figures gestured to the prone form of a rather small, white-haired youth amidst the flames.
Whether it had been just morbid curiosity, or the sudden rousing of the Forbidden Sight in his right eye, the normally unfettered tyrant would experience a sort of empathy for the child....he would feel as though the boy would prove....useful in the days to come. Striding over to him, the shadows that he was so very adept at manipulating would descend over and blanket his broken body, absorbing him into the reservoir of Cimmerian Shade that was at his beck and call. It had indeed been a fortuitous endeavor, all things considered....He put another one of his feckless rivals down, he'd acquired something with some manner of potential, and he'd even received a new gem for his trouble...
Rousing from his reverie with an understandable start, he would shake free those unnecessary thoughts, considering their merit and finding little to none. Peering about reflexively in order to readjust himself to his current whereabouts, he would once again find himself leering at the pod what contained his acquisition, those unearthly hues narrowing at the unconscious child of an unpleasant and foolish dynasty. Would he meet the same fate, or would he serve a purpose for him someday that he was not yet willing to glimpse"
"The Power of Order....I sought it with such vehemence then....Do I owe my existence to that concept so readily' Hmph....Hear me well, and mark you, young one....I have many plans for you in a future from which I cannot currently glean much truth. Do me the honor of awakening before long, so that I might properly tailor you to that end..." His wistful memories fading into the void of ambition within which he'd situated himself, Scionius would turn away from the unknown boy and guide himself out of the room, leaving only the light to keep the little one company in his veritably comatose state.
To be Continued.
Such was the reprehensible state within which the dreadful man found himself encapsulated. A scholar at heart, and a meddler by profession, his dimmed hues couldn't help focusing upon the similarly luminous, liquid-filled pod in the center of the otherwise lonely room. Therein floated an inert, male child that had remained yet unaware of his surroundings since the very day that Scionius had made contact with him, roused only to project his dreamlike image to others. It was an odd thing, inevitability. His aggressive vice caused the hooded man to retrieve the youth from what he, himself, had made a hell-scape. 'Twas not but months prior that he had liberated that fell city, brutalizing its would-be dictatorial staff outright...
The sky would be brought alight with abyssal, violet flames that sunk their proverbial fangs deep into the stronghold that was Creodyn. Those whom had sworn allegiance to the dread Scion's cause had already withdrawn from the miserable town in secret, only to be met by and transmogrified into the ghoulish followers that had laid siege to it. Its battlement walls, thought intensely fortified, were swiftly torn away with but a whisper of a spell. At once, the manifold cloaks shuffled in via the newly-formed gaps in their adversaries' defenses, seeing to the absolute slaughter of the fools that deigned to keep hold of their ultimately doomed cesspool. Unholy darksteel claws ripped into the flesh and bones of the surfacing militia, overturning its might with their magic-dampening under-armor. The unfortunate mongrels that had spat curses and obscenities in his presence before would meet their end, sans their martial better's peaceful pretense.
Alas, Scion stepped through the threshold of the crippled barrier and began his trek through the scattered procession of corpses. As each of his dark sentinels seemed to be cut down, he marveled at the astonished grimaces of the Creodynian swords-warriors as they were summarily flayed upon their surprising return. Though he would take a decidedly perverse joviality in the ruin of citadel's pitiful populace, he would steel his otherworldly resolve to advance upon the inner sanctum. his guards had already prepared the pathway, but were then met by a less intricate blockade. Lo and behold, a phalanx had formed outside of the entrance to the fell autarch's chambers, presumably with another of his weakened squads protecting the mad king from within. It was at this particular juncture that they sought their master's counsel, turning to him for orders; however, Scion's mind was made up and his desire was more than clear.
A hand rose up from the shrouded mass that composed his robes, his mask and hood further veiling the look of utter, malicious amusement as a small, pulsating orb formed at his fingertip. It would gradually grow in size and imperceptible density as more, smaller orbs conjoined themselves to the amalgam of unsettling intent that acclimated to him. His long since visible aura grew darker with its temperance to his will, fiercely flaring up into an onyx-violet fury as he fixed both eyes and orb on the doorway. It was as though his hues didn't even acknowledge the shivering souls preparing to die in service to their monster of a ruler. Those pitiless eyes, unyielding to the weak, only registered their continued existence as obstacles....things.
"Igniz..." At last, with naught more than that single utterance, the light that had gathered before him erupted forth in an eerily calm, straight line. Initially, there would seem to have been no purpose for it at all; however, his grin would widen as the entrance, the guards, and his only impetus were incinerated in just milliseconds aft. They hadn't even been given the opportunity to scream before they were blasted into an unrelenting oblivion. At his nod of behest, his myriad cloaks filtered into the fallen hall with haste, the uncompromising shade only following suit when all other bodies under his command had made it inside. Finally, he'd found him, the source of his worries and the bearer one of very few weaknesses he bore. His gaze drew toward the amulet around the gaunt man's stringy neck, it luster causing his blood to boil. He, too, had jeered his approach and additionally sent his court jester to do the same upon his departure. Suffice it to say, that jester didn't exactly exist in the same way anymore.
"Ahh, King Geldas, you elderly fool....Hmhmhmhm. So this is where you've been lurking all this time" And here I'd figured you were more than willing to lead your people into the throes of battle. Yet still, you are here, cowering in your vaunted stool..." His words ringing out with authority and pride, his fabled gaze settled upon the withered old man. His practice was akin to the Seers' own; although, his services were firmly ingrained in the teachings of tiki gods and sacrificial rituals that beings of Scion's kind had rendered obsolete and archaic ages ago. He preached of protection from spirits and gods on high that he'd likely never seen, and now he sat, a fragile and helpless man clinging to a regime that had all but shriveled under his thumb. Nothing stood in Scion's way, now; nothing would protect him this day.
"Y-you! The Dark One! You laid waste to my people! What is the meaning of this"! I....I have done nothing to deserve it! Nary a thing!" A shoddily-crafted prevarication, that. Oh, he would indeed pay for it, as well. Above all else, the Scion that set upon him that day had a rather potent distaste for liars, so much so that he scolded himself with each one that left his own lips. Unfortunately for old Geldy-fool, he'd had his fill of negotiating and treaty-fabricating for the sake of a half-hearted goodwill. He would meet his end here. In the same motion as before, a fingertip would rise to greet the witch doctor, but he would not be so kind as to simply hand him his death. In swift expiration's stead, the sorcerer would curse his form and force it to take to the air above them.
"Dearest friend of a bygone age, I do hope you realize what all of this means for you....I want to hear it from you....firsthand. Whose fault is this...?" His phantom grip on the man would tense, subtly reining his limbs and head in toward his form. Passively, his aura would begin to coalesce about the helpless leader's frame, a disquieted foreboding lurking beneath the surface of his words. Geldas could feel his energy being sapped steadily from him, his skin blossoming with impromptu wounds and burns. There would be no escape for him this time, and he was all too aware of his fate. He couldn't weasel his way free of the meandering tyrant's grasp. "M-m-m....It was....Gck...! Mine! I did this! I gave my city up to the dregs of this land.....So tha....I....coul....bask....in....i....glory..." He would find it difficult to speak as he was slowly asphyxiated by the phantasmal man's magicks. Nay....It was something truly different than spell-force....This was....pure will manifested in physical form.
"Hmhm, yes....That's a much better tone than your misgivings at my expense before....I think that ought to do. Now, what to do with you, what with you being a body-hopper and whatnot' Hmm....I think I'll have you join me....Fill this vessel with your life essence and bring me further to my completion....Die an everlasting death..." With the close of his fist, he would collapse his aura around the frail man's from, crushing him soundly and compacting him into a sphere. The resulting ball of energy would then hover down to Scion's obscured chest and meld with him, slipping into the darkness that was his very being. With that, he would veer about on his heels and take his leave, pocketing the amulet for safe-keeping and later examination. It was by pure coincidence that he should be halted once again by his now evacuating guards. The shadowy figures gestured to the prone form of a rather small, white-haired youth amidst the flames.
Whether it had been just morbid curiosity, or the sudden rousing of the Forbidden Sight in his right eye, the normally unfettered tyrant would experience a sort of empathy for the child....he would feel as though the boy would prove....useful in the days to come. Striding over to him, the shadows that he was so very adept at manipulating would descend over and blanket his broken body, absorbing him into the reservoir of Cimmerian Shade that was at his beck and call. It had indeed been a fortuitous endeavor, all things considered....He put another one of his feckless rivals down, he'd acquired something with some manner of potential, and he'd even received a new gem for his trouble...
Rousing from his reverie with an understandable start, he would shake free those unnecessary thoughts, considering their merit and finding little to none. Peering about reflexively in order to readjust himself to his current whereabouts, he would once again find himself leering at the pod what contained his acquisition, those unearthly hues narrowing at the unconscious child of an unpleasant and foolish dynasty. Would he meet the same fate, or would he serve a purpose for him someday that he was not yet willing to glimpse"
"The Power of Order....I sought it with such vehemence then....Do I owe my existence to that concept so readily' Hmph....Hear me well, and mark you, young one....I have many plans for you in a future from which I cannot currently glean much truth. Do me the honor of awakening before long, so that I might properly tailor you to that end..." His wistful memories fading into the void of ambition within which he'd situated himself, Scionius would turn away from the unknown boy and guide himself out of the room, leaving only the light to keep the little one company in his veritably comatose state.
To be Continued.