Post by Daigin Crethis on Aug 15, 2005 11:19:30 GMT -5
The black spires of the Necropolis soared upward, piercing the bleak dome of the sky in defiance of all the elements, and laws of physics.
Thick, black clouds gathered above the intimidating structure, swirling about the spires, thickening, darkening, while all the surrounding air was clear and cloudless.
Thunder rumbled in the air, and suddenly, lightning struck the top of the spire with a terrific flash, sending rock tumbling down to land heavily on the ground below, throwing up vast clouds of dust.
Within the spire, at the very centre of the tower, lay a bleak, dark and uninviting throne room. Two chairs looked over the room from a raised dais, and twisted columns of black rock supported the vaulted roof. Shadows crawled and danced about the walls, avoiding the light.
And there was only one source of light. A peculiar, green glow filled the room, seeming to emanate from the larger of the two thrones.
Daigin sat rigidly on his new throne, and he was surrounded in a nimbus of shadow, although his eyes glowed a ghostly green. his stare was vacant, and his expression was contorted and twisted into the semblance of a malicious grin.
Slowly, the shadow about the throne room thickened and was given form. Puddles of darkness opened up in the floor, and from these horrible creatures crawled forth.
Massive and putrefying armoured dead emerged from the portals, their rotting flesh hanging from their vacant eye sockets as they moved to take up positions lining the edges of the room, beside the black columns and beside the door.
Wraiths of shadow with only two, penetrating red eyes spilled forth from the ceiling to soar about the tops of the dark pillars.
Slowly, Daigin's face returned to normal, if it truly was normal. his eyes lost their green glow and returned to dull grey, and his aura of shadow faded away, as did the light in the room, that had come from the ghostly glow of his eyes.
With an almost negligent wave of his hand, Daigin muttered something, and small orbs of pulsating green light appeared, hovering in the air in seemingly random places, casting an even more eerie glow about the room.
Daigin laughed manically, a cold, humourless and horrid sound as he gazed upon the ranks of his servants. Every single spirit that animated the corpses was one of the greater dead. Those whom few could control, those who retained power even in death, those who had once been necromancers themselves, and those who were now bound inexorably unto his will.
No one could hear his mad laughter, as it echoed down the empty halls of the necropolis.
The other necromancer's had fled when he arrived, in fear and panic. Soon they would return, and they too would serve him, though not as his dead bodyguards did. In an altogether, more human fashion.
Thick, black clouds gathered above the intimidating structure, swirling about the spires, thickening, darkening, while all the surrounding air was clear and cloudless.
Thunder rumbled in the air, and suddenly, lightning struck the top of the spire with a terrific flash, sending rock tumbling down to land heavily on the ground below, throwing up vast clouds of dust.
Within the spire, at the very centre of the tower, lay a bleak, dark and uninviting throne room. Two chairs looked over the room from a raised dais, and twisted columns of black rock supported the vaulted roof. Shadows crawled and danced about the walls, avoiding the light.
And there was only one source of light. A peculiar, green glow filled the room, seeming to emanate from the larger of the two thrones.
Daigin sat rigidly on his new throne, and he was surrounded in a nimbus of shadow, although his eyes glowed a ghostly green. his stare was vacant, and his expression was contorted and twisted into the semblance of a malicious grin.
Slowly, the shadow about the throne room thickened and was given form. Puddles of darkness opened up in the floor, and from these horrible creatures crawled forth.
Massive and putrefying armoured dead emerged from the portals, their rotting flesh hanging from their vacant eye sockets as they moved to take up positions lining the edges of the room, beside the black columns and beside the door.
Wraiths of shadow with only two, penetrating red eyes spilled forth from the ceiling to soar about the tops of the dark pillars.
Slowly, Daigin's face returned to normal, if it truly was normal. his eyes lost their green glow and returned to dull grey, and his aura of shadow faded away, as did the light in the room, that had come from the ghostly glow of his eyes.
With an almost negligent wave of his hand, Daigin muttered something, and small orbs of pulsating green light appeared, hovering in the air in seemingly random places, casting an even more eerie glow about the room.
Daigin laughed manically, a cold, humourless and horrid sound as he gazed upon the ranks of his servants. Every single spirit that animated the corpses was one of the greater dead. Those whom few could control, those who retained power even in death, those who had once been necromancers themselves, and those who were now bound inexorably unto his will.
No one could hear his mad laughter, as it echoed down the empty halls of the necropolis.
The other necromancer's had fled when he arrived, in fear and panic. Soon they would return, and they too would serve him, though not as his dead bodyguards did. In an altogether, more human fashion.
