'Lupi made me do it Registered Member #175
Joined: 5:49:41 pm GMT 07/23/04
Posts: 4286
Arcane Arts for the Ill-Informed (VII):
Words began to form on the Colonel's lips, the words within his mind. He tried to keep himself from saying them but somehow the link he had submitted to was being exploited by whatever had drawn him here. The chant of words seemed to mock him, even when he knew nothing of their true meaning or origin. He knew what they would do though, which was why he was so against their verbalisation.
The red sparks at his fingertips erupted like the flames of his eyes and his arms began to encircle the space before him. Widely at first, as his resistance kept them from being so accurate in their movement, but he could ultimately do nothing to stop them. Similarly, he could do nothing to stop his mouth from betraying him as he spoke the chant.
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His vision, his world became engulfed in the red glow of his hands. The pressure which had built up within his mind seemed to make the earth quake and shudder under his feet. Even though he could not control his hands, he could feel the resistance in keeping them together: the force of a hundred men pulling at each arm in opposite directions. His arms ached worse than before, up to the pits, around the front of his chest and each rib felt ready to crack under the movement of breathing. The familar, warm feeling of tugging at his heart had disappeared, replaced only with the stress and pain his muscles felt.
He had become but a catalyst to power whatever was being brought into the world, and another surge of force whipped through him faster than lightening, culminating in a brilliant red flash which blurred his vision.
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The red light fell to the ground, his arms going limp, his body and mind exhausted. The deep, blood-red hue changed colour and became a 'bonfire orange' as the light took on the consistency of dust. In his conciousness the chanting stopped suddenly, but his lips still spoke the words, and his arms had little rest as they were thrust skyward. Orange smoke settled about his feet but quickly spread across the area around him...
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White-hot flames licked at his boots stretching up to his waist but he could not feel them. It spread forwards, leaving scorched ground where it had been, and only forwards - driven by a definate purpose. A good few paces ahead of the Colonel, the flames swirled around over a single location, joining together, culminating into a pillar taller than himself, and wider than the trees he had passed on his way to this unknown place. Something was there, he could see it as the flames whirled randomly around, something huge looking back at him. He could see it standing there, see it breathing in the flames it seemed to almost eat - the flames engulfed the figure yet it seemed it was quite as easily consuming the flames. In an instant the shroud of fire fell from the figure and washed over the ground once more, revealing what had stood waiting within.
'Lupi made me do it Registered Member #175
Joined: 5:49:41 pm GMT 07/23/04
Posts: 4286
A Cure At Last? (II)
The two stared at each other for a time. Dwent was shocked into silence despite the fact that his mouth had stopped chanting and was his once more, though his arms remained out of his influence and stuck rigid towards the sky. The creature opposite radiated fury, hate and destruction through every pore of its body, a cloak of red shifting about it with every passing second. Dwent forced his dry mouth to swallow, feeling as though he could be sick, and tried to talk:
"Where..." "Is Jiv'undus?" The creature bellowed, mocking. "That wretch is the least of your concerns, -Mortal-."
That did it - that was the word that made Dwent recognise exactly what he was dealing with. This didn't -look- like the demon that had cursed him, though he'd seen it in many dreams in differing manifestations. It was no surprise to see it changed again. Nothing could hide the fear in Dwent's eyes.
"Why..." "Because you need to be reminded that you are not cursed, mortal. You have been blessed. You are ungrateful of my blessing, my reward for freeing me? You seek to be rid of me, DESTROY ME! That I cannot tolerate... You've a bond with that devil which has kept you from succumbing to my desires entirely. But you'll never be free of me, you'll never win, Mortal."
Everything seemed to sink into the ground, the bluffs, the trees, even the sky behind the demon's manifestation. Night had set in hours ago, or so it felt to Dwent, but only now did the world grow much darker.
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"You've taken too long... you've faltered in your attempts to 'cleanse your blood'. You may have pulled me out of your mind with the help of that beast and its rocks, but now you've consolidated my grip on your body... find a way to free yourself of my gift and you will never survive the process! You are too far gone, mortal."
The creature seemed to be thoroughly enjoying itself as the flames about its feet wrapped around its legs and began slithering up to one side of its body, along the length of its great arm and into its hand.
"Your only hope is to give in to me, and pray to whatever gods you still keep that I desire you be kept alive... though no gods can save you now. There is no help for you!
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Dwent's arms slumped down by his sides, finally released back to his own control. It took all his remaning strength to lift them to try to protect him from what the demon was about to hurl at him - the great ball of flames in its hand. He tried to yell at it not to do it but his words were lost under the roar of the fire as it crashed into him, exploding wide and knocking him to the floor. The blast alone wouldn't have been enough usually to knock him off his feet, but Dwent was beaten from the inside out and it was all he could do to fall hard onto his back. The demon laughed deeply, a sinister satisfaction.
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"I knew you could be tricked again. The thought of a keeper taking your precious Jiv'undus. You are still a simple-minded fool to believe in the power the devil offers. Only I can give you true power, as you've seen, as you've tasted. A curse? Pah, you insult me, and yourself..."
The demon stood over him looking down.
"Pitiful. I should have just killed you ... goodbye, -Mortal-. I will always be watching you."
Dwent blinked and the creature was gone, just the stench of smoke and sulphur remaning about the place. An orange dust was scorched into his armour, the infernal runes gone from the surface. Dwent lay there, looking up, feeling weak, feeling vulnerable, orange flames still licking about his eyes...
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((Following this run-in with the demon I have delevelled Dwent to lvl 1 using the in game mechanic and will lvl him back up myself. It will give me the chance to make numerous small changes to his build which I have long-desired but never gotten around to doing (long-desired since about lvl 16-17 so quite a while ago indeed!). I actually delevelled him about 4 days ago but have just finished putting together the story for it ready for the forum posts. So before you think about the chance to beat on a lvl 1 Dwent you're too late! 8-p Thanks to DM Iggy for initiating what I didn't realise at the time (a year ago now) would be such an interesting story for Dwent to persue and me to explore, it's realy changed how I think about Dwent and what he thinks about... everything! And things are by no means over yet.))
[ The Island of Thain ]
The Evil That Men Do (iv)