Vaticus
Vaticus Darglore
His heart knew only hatred; infused with the powers of chaos itself, he was thrust into a state of dementia rivaled by none. It was this dangerous mixture that lead to his ultimate undoing. Time had lost it's sense of meaning long ago; it seemed like a millenia, but in reality he'd only been in exile for a few years - enslaved by the magics he once used to bring the entire kingdom of New Avalon to its knees. His unrelenting, insatiable thirst for both blood, and revenge, were all that sustained him - he'd long since evolved beyond the need for humanly proteins and nutrients; although even the thought of fresh brains teased his senses - his cannibalism becoming more of a hobby, than a means of survival.
Lord Darglore, it is time, the Faceless has collected the weapon, he waits for us in the ruins.
He struggled to his feet, his legs felt wobbly; akward even, like a child's first lumbering steps. "Oh, has he?" His voice trembled, and faltered. Hardly the harsh, commanding tone that once demanded the respect of even Kings. He stood naked, caked in dirt, and reeking of decayed flesh. Lifting a mud-caked hand, he swept tangled locks of greasey blackness away from his soiled visage. "And the other... where is Darren? An obvious degree of concern was apparent in his voice. Even though Darren Darglore had been indirectly responsible for his untimely downfall.
"He has proven rather elusive. Our numbers dwindle; our standing legion is but a shadow of its former glory. We haven't the manpower to persue these endeavors you've set upon us."
His jaw tightened as his teeth clenched. He felt weak, frail.. broken. He turned slowly, struggling to maintain his own weight, regardless of how slight it was. Facing the other, his eyes were lifeless, devoid even of anger. There was only blackness. You've failed me, conjurer. Ten years ago, I would have raped your wife and slaughtered your children as punishment. He staggered forward, moving closer to the robed figure he'd been conversing with, "You say we lack manpower? --We shall call upon the other three." He seemed almost reluctant to spew out that last bit; a look of concern washing over his dirty features.
"But my Lord... the Faceless alone is more than we are able to control, should we free the others, what's to stop them from destroying us? Certainly you realize what we've done - in freeing you, we've also freed them from their debt to us - such beasts cannot be trusted!
He coughed, and sputtered.. hissing forth a raspy chuckle from his diseased lungs. "Conjurer, we need not trust them.. and soon... soon, we need not fear them, either. They will serve their part, then kneel before me, or be dealt with accordingly." He turned then, setting his gaze upon what was left of his home - the tower of Golgotha; place of bones. This unholy land would serve as foothold for his invasion. He lifted weak arms, extended to either side; his head tilting back as his eyes rolled into his battered skull, "Today, my friend - the great day of our vengeance is upon us; we've a false God to destroy, and a civilization to enslave - no longer are we bound to obey this false deity. Vaticus Darglore has fallen, the true Hidden Lord has risen from his ashes ... contact the Faceless, tell him to proceed upon the Ruins of Pelevran; ravage any villages along the way - burn them until their soil is rendered dead and useless; their water sour and stagnant. Make their suffering of legendary status; enslave the children; drink from the elderly - impreginante their women - we shall build an "army", indeed.
The banner flapped atop his broken tower; visible to all of Ayenee from its mountaintop perch. Vaticus Darglore, the true Hidden Lord, is free. Gargauth, the false God felt a very unknown feeling - the chill that ran up his spine.
(Basically, Vaticus is back, he's gone crazy in exile, And he thinks he's the true Hidden Lord. Expect more about the "Faceless", as well as the "Three" in my next installment, which I plan to get out as soon as I can. Sorry for the sloppyness of the post, still getting used to the codes for the board.)
Lord Darglore, it is time, the Faceless has collected the weapon, he waits for us in the ruins.
He struggled to his feet, his legs felt wobbly; akward even, like a child's first lumbering steps. "Oh, has he?" His voice trembled, and faltered. Hardly the harsh, commanding tone that once demanded the respect of even Kings. He stood naked, caked in dirt, and reeking of decayed flesh. Lifting a mud-caked hand, he swept tangled locks of greasey blackness away from his soiled visage. "And the other... where is Darren? An obvious degree of concern was apparent in his voice. Even though Darren Darglore had been indirectly responsible for his untimely downfall.
"He has proven rather elusive. Our numbers dwindle; our standing legion is but a shadow of its former glory. We haven't the manpower to persue these endeavors you've set upon us."
His jaw tightened as his teeth clenched. He felt weak, frail.. broken. He turned slowly, struggling to maintain his own weight, regardless of how slight it was. Facing the other, his eyes were lifeless, devoid even of anger. There was only blackness. You've failed me, conjurer. Ten years ago, I would have raped your wife and slaughtered your children as punishment. He staggered forward, moving closer to the robed figure he'd been conversing with, "You say we lack manpower? --We shall call upon the other three." He seemed almost reluctant to spew out that last bit; a look of concern washing over his dirty features.
"But my Lord... the Faceless alone is more than we are able to control, should we free the others, what's to stop them from destroying us? Certainly you realize what we've done - in freeing you, we've also freed them from their debt to us - such beasts cannot be trusted!
He coughed, and sputtered.. hissing forth a raspy chuckle from his diseased lungs. "Conjurer, we need not trust them.. and soon... soon, we need not fear them, either. They will serve their part, then kneel before me, or be dealt with accordingly." He turned then, setting his gaze upon what was left of his home - the tower of Golgotha; place of bones. This unholy land would serve as foothold for his invasion. He lifted weak arms, extended to either side; his head tilting back as his eyes rolled into his battered skull, "Today, my friend - the great day of our vengeance is upon us; we've a false God to destroy, and a civilization to enslave - no longer are we bound to obey this false deity. Vaticus Darglore has fallen, the true Hidden Lord has risen from his ashes ... contact the Faceless, tell him to proceed upon the Ruins of Pelevran; ravage any villages along the way - burn them until their soil is rendered dead and useless; their water sour and stagnant. Make their suffering of legendary status; enslave the children; drink from the elderly - impreginante their women - we shall build an "army", indeed.
The banner flapped atop his broken tower; visible to all of Ayenee from its mountaintop perch. Vaticus Darglore, the true Hidden Lord, is free. Gargauth, the false God felt a very unknown feeling - the chill that ran up his spine.
(Basically, Vaticus is back, he's gone crazy in exile, And he thinks he's the true Hidden Lord. Expect more about the "Faceless", as well as the "Three" in my next installment, which I plan to get out as soon as I can. Sorry for the sloppyness of the post, still getting used to the codes for the board.)