Lisean
06-12-06, 11:16 PM
(Closed. Solo.)
The nightmares…
”Gentlemen; We, The Lemot Brotherhood, have gathered here to write another chapter into history. Faust, The First, could not have foreseen what we will accomplish tonight. For ages our studies brought very little to the world. Are we satisfied? Far from it. However, our brethren, our ancestors.. were no fools. Countless years we have wasted, writing and discovering the secrets of the sacred power found in death, will finally come to an end. Our brothers were most gracious to have passed their findings unto us. Now, the time has come for our clan to rise. The gift of immortality is before us! From hence forth, we shall no longer act like the vampire, but rather become something much worse. A force that cannot die, and need not drink the blood of our own kind to survive. My son shall be the gateway; My gateway, to eternal life. He is the door to a new generation, promising limitless power to our family, and only our family. Join me, fair brothers and sisters! Tonight, we share an ascension that will shake the heavens!”
The necromancer awoke to the sounds of screams,
And tried to tell himself to shut his mouth before somebody heard.
Snapping a hand over his lips, Lisean fell quiet in an instant, and took a deep breath. After all had become still, save for the crickets chirping amongst the dead of night, he pushed a palm up over his forehead, wiping beads of sweat back into his hair as he combed it behind his ear. His mind was still replaying what he saw before he woke up. The serrated dagger in his father’s hand gave him a glimpse at himself, while behind the cloaked figures, banners were hung up on the walls. Each one carried an emblem, representing a clan. Some were crossed out with bloodstained diagonal crosses. It all made no sense.. but perhaps one day it will all become clear. Why the same recurring flashback? And why did those symbols stand out above everything? It was the closest Lisean ever was to death, and the only idea that sprung to mind was to be weary of what he was surrounded by. Much like he should’ve been worrying about now.
Sounds that depicted a dilemma alerted Lisean, and brought him to his feet once he had finally decided to put his past behind him. A man was breathing heavily, and cursing to himself. “Shit..” was just one of the many words of the cussing dictionary he could clearly hear. The way it was spoken could tell even a drunk that the man had perhaps a little too much. In other words, there was an injured being on the road just off from where the necromancer had camped out for the evening. Taking into account Lisean only had half of his required hours of rest, his body reacted a little slow at first when it came to investigating, but almost by the time he had reached the source of the pointless jabbering, he was wide awake.
What caused Lisean to stop in his tracks wasn’t exactly the state the man was in, but rather his structure. He was scarcely tall, laying straight on his back upon a small hill overlooking the forest path. Just off to the left of the wounded giant, lay another who appeared just as large, but not as hideous. The weapons that were on the body made the necromancer delighted to find that the.. thing.. was dead. The other that was only injured made him shudder. The long sleeved clothes the man was wearing were rather fitting, consisting of a simple pair of pants, and an elegant black shirt with gold trim. Worn on his belt were six axes, almost as if sported in a decorative manner. The polearms crossed over his back were even more intimidating, for the weapons almost matched the height of him. Nonetheless, Lisean wouldn’t just walk away from the guy, and put his own life in danger. Something told him if he walked away, he’d kill him on the spot. The necromancer approached the abnormal bodied figure, and offered a hand in assistance.
Upon seeing the hand, the man brought his eyes away from the wound, and onto the necromancer garbed in black. The only colour he could see from Lisean consisted of his slightly pale skin that shone in the moonlight, the dark purple hair that was somewhat unkept and hinted at his awakening, and the salmon pink eyes that stared down at him in an odd fashion. Probably just his guess that he didn’t see many of his type around. Sighing, the man pocket the now empty vial in his hands into his belt pouch, and grabbed Lisean’s hand. “Ah, thank ye,” the man spoke after just barely being lifted to his feet. Once he was up, the necromancer nodded his head for an response to his manners, and stepped back.
“Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna hurt ye,” the tall man answered, chuckling as he looked down upon Lisean with a rather hearty smile. “My token of gratitude to your help, though little as it may be, is a proper introduction. The name’s Clement, friend.”
The necromancer looked him over from boot to hair twice over, establishing curiosity in his eyes. Why would this man try to befriend him just by offering a little assistance? It wasn’t that big of a sentimental deal. Still, he frowned, knowing it was best to answer him. Those weapons still looked pretty nasty on his own limbs. “I’m Lisean..” he muttered, looking over at the large creature that was dead. He stepped forward, and crouched down, taking a good look at the thing as if it were some sort of specimen. “May I ask.. what happened here, Clement?”
“Uhh.. well,” the giant began, scratching the back of his head as he walked up behind Lisean, and looked over the body of the monster as well. “It’s kind of a long story, but to put it in short.. He thought he was big enough, but he fell as fast as a goblin.” Clement chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and forcing a small “Hmph,” out of his sealed lips. “Damned trolls..”
“Trolls?” Lisean questioned, turning his eyes to look up momentarily at Clement. “You mean.. this thing is a troll?” he asked in reassurance, looking over the remains once again. As he dug through what the dead being carried while he was alive, Clement nodded his head, and let out a laugh. “O’ course that’s a troll! Haven’t ye ever seen one before?” the man asked, assuming that the necromancer was dumbfounded. However, his first thought of him slowly changed as he watched him pocket a few very small glass vials that were on the troll. Maybe he was smarter than he looked. Lisean just saw things, and took them if they were out of the ordinary. Along with the two containers filled with a dark green, tar-like substance, Lisean also managed to pocket a couple pieces of gold. A whole couple.
“Say.. ummm..” Clement tried to speak, hesitating a little at the thought that just popped into his mind. “You seem to know how to take care of yerself, Lisean. Would you like to accompany me for awhile on a task I have to finish before sunset tonight?” he asked, catching the necromancer’s attention. “Hmmm..” Lisean first responded, rising up to his feet to still stand at least a good foot underneath Clement. In the position the spellcaster was in, he had no need to take liberty of helping others, unless a price was given. He desired rewards, in the form of things needed to survive on his own. He preferred solitude, seeing as how he had grown used to it. “What’s in it for me? And what’s the catch?” were his only two questions.
“Well, I’m here on.. top secret business,” Clement whispered, making sure nobody was around before he lowered his voice. “I work for a gang that pays me well for these kinds of things. Perhaps if I put in a good word for you, they’ll be kind enough to spare you a few coins, as well. They are the types that will be grateful for any extra hands, and are always in need of a new pair. Specifically an uncommon pair..”
Lisean smirked. Top secret business? How was he supposed to believe such codswallop. Closing his eyes, the necromancer lowered his head slightly, and muttered “Bullshit,” proclaiming Clement’s words merely lies. “Either tell me with a little more detail in exactly what you want done, and what I will get if I do, or I’m leaving to act on my own accord.”
Clement looked over the dead troll he had taken out, and wounded him. He thought about the words that came out of Lisean’s mouth, and sighed. He knew he needed a little more help, and that the task he accepted was a little more difficult than what he had imagined. “Alright, alright. I’ll comply with ye wishes. Just before I let ye hear what words are about to fall from my lips, I need ye to swear yourself to secrecy, and promise that ye are with me to the end of this mission. I can’t have ye decline, and tell your little tavern friends about the so-called ‘crap’ one tall guy told ye. You speak of anything, me and my mates will find out, and then you’ll have a number worthwhile over ye head.”
Lisean shook his head at first in response to the mindless babbling, and slowly opened his eyes to peer down at the stranger’s feet. He looked up at Clement, and combed a hand through his hair as he took the time to reconsider. Maybe if he had to lay down such a warning, the people he worked for knew how to give a hefty reward. Smiling some to himself, the necromancer nodded his head, and turned his back to Clement, just to suddenly send his foot into the gut of the dead troll, forcing the corpse onto its back. Of course, with so much force in a single kick, Lisean was aching, but only expressed his slight pain by looking down at his foot and shaking it around a bit.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Clement. Now, spill it.”
The nightmares…
”Gentlemen; We, The Lemot Brotherhood, have gathered here to write another chapter into history. Faust, The First, could not have foreseen what we will accomplish tonight. For ages our studies brought very little to the world. Are we satisfied? Far from it. However, our brethren, our ancestors.. were no fools. Countless years we have wasted, writing and discovering the secrets of the sacred power found in death, will finally come to an end. Our brothers were most gracious to have passed their findings unto us. Now, the time has come for our clan to rise. The gift of immortality is before us! From hence forth, we shall no longer act like the vampire, but rather become something much worse. A force that cannot die, and need not drink the blood of our own kind to survive. My son shall be the gateway; My gateway, to eternal life. He is the door to a new generation, promising limitless power to our family, and only our family. Join me, fair brothers and sisters! Tonight, we share an ascension that will shake the heavens!”
The necromancer awoke to the sounds of screams,
And tried to tell himself to shut his mouth before somebody heard.
Snapping a hand over his lips, Lisean fell quiet in an instant, and took a deep breath. After all had become still, save for the crickets chirping amongst the dead of night, he pushed a palm up over his forehead, wiping beads of sweat back into his hair as he combed it behind his ear. His mind was still replaying what he saw before he woke up. The serrated dagger in his father’s hand gave him a glimpse at himself, while behind the cloaked figures, banners were hung up on the walls. Each one carried an emblem, representing a clan. Some were crossed out with bloodstained diagonal crosses. It all made no sense.. but perhaps one day it will all become clear. Why the same recurring flashback? And why did those symbols stand out above everything? It was the closest Lisean ever was to death, and the only idea that sprung to mind was to be weary of what he was surrounded by. Much like he should’ve been worrying about now.
Sounds that depicted a dilemma alerted Lisean, and brought him to his feet once he had finally decided to put his past behind him. A man was breathing heavily, and cursing to himself. “Shit..” was just one of the many words of the cussing dictionary he could clearly hear. The way it was spoken could tell even a drunk that the man had perhaps a little too much. In other words, there was an injured being on the road just off from where the necromancer had camped out for the evening. Taking into account Lisean only had half of his required hours of rest, his body reacted a little slow at first when it came to investigating, but almost by the time he had reached the source of the pointless jabbering, he was wide awake.
What caused Lisean to stop in his tracks wasn’t exactly the state the man was in, but rather his structure. He was scarcely tall, laying straight on his back upon a small hill overlooking the forest path. Just off to the left of the wounded giant, lay another who appeared just as large, but not as hideous. The weapons that were on the body made the necromancer delighted to find that the.. thing.. was dead. The other that was only injured made him shudder. The long sleeved clothes the man was wearing were rather fitting, consisting of a simple pair of pants, and an elegant black shirt with gold trim. Worn on his belt were six axes, almost as if sported in a decorative manner. The polearms crossed over his back were even more intimidating, for the weapons almost matched the height of him. Nonetheless, Lisean wouldn’t just walk away from the guy, and put his own life in danger. Something told him if he walked away, he’d kill him on the spot. The necromancer approached the abnormal bodied figure, and offered a hand in assistance.
Upon seeing the hand, the man brought his eyes away from the wound, and onto the necromancer garbed in black. The only colour he could see from Lisean consisted of his slightly pale skin that shone in the moonlight, the dark purple hair that was somewhat unkept and hinted at his awakening, and the salmon pink eyes that stared down at him in an odd fashion. Probably just his guess that he didn’t see many of his type around. Sighing, the man pocket the now empty vial in his hands into his belt pouch, and grabbed Lisean’s hand. “Ah, thank ye,” the man spoke after just barely being lifted to his feet. Once he was up, the necromancer nodded his head for an response to his manners, and stepped back.
“Don’t worry. I ain’t gonna hurt ye,” the tall man answered, chuckling as he looked down upon Lisean with a rather hearty smile. “My token of gratitude to your help, though little as it may be, is a proper introduction. The name’s Clement, friend.”
The necromancer looked him over from boot to hair twice over, establishing curiosity in his eyes. Why would this man try to befriend him just by offering a little assistance? It wasn’t that big of a sentimental deal. Still, he frowned, knowing it was best to answer him. Those weapons still looked pretty nasty on his own limbs. “I’m Lisean..” he muttered, looking over at the large creature that was dead. He stepped forward, and crouched down, taking a good look at the thing as if it were some sort of specimen. “May I ask.. what happened here, Clement?”
“Uhh.. well,” the giant began, scratching the back of his head as he walked up behind Lisean, and looked over the body of the monster as well. “It’s kind of a long story, but to put it in short.. He thought he was big enough, but he fell as fast as a goblin.” Clement chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and forcing a small “Hmph,” out of his sealed lips. “Damned trolls..”
“Trolls?” Lisean questioned, turning his eyes to look up momentarily at Clement. “You mean.. this thing is a troll?” he asked in reassurance, looking over the remains once again. As he dug through what the dead being carried while he was alive, Clement nodded his head, and let out a laugh. “O’ course that’s a troll! Haven’t ye ever seen one before?” the man asked, assuming that the necromancer was dumbfounded. However, his first thought of him slowly changed as he watched him pocket a few very small glass vials that were on the troll. Maybe he was smarter than he looked. Lisean just saw things, and took them if they were out of the ordinary. Along with the two containers filled with a dark green, tar-like substance, Lisean also managed to pocket a couple pieces of gold. A whole couple.
“Say.. ummm..” Clement tried to speak, hesitating a little at the thought that just popped into his mind. “You seem to know how to take care of yerself, Lisean. Would you like to accompany me for awhile on a task I have to finish before sunset tonight?” he asked, catching the necromancer’s attention. “Hmmm..” Lisean first responded, rising up to his feet to still stand at least a good foot underneath Clement. In the position the spellcaster was in, he had no need to take liberty of helping others, unless a price was given. He desired rewards, in the form of things needed to survive on his own. He preferred solitude, seeing as how he had grown used to it. “What’s in it for me? And what’s the catch?” were his only two questions.
“Well, I’m here on.. top secret business,” Clement whispered, making sure nobody was around before he lowered his voice. “I work for a gang that pays me well for these kinds of things. Perhaps if I put in a good word for you, they’ll be kind enough to spare you a few coins, as well. They are the types that will be grateful for any extra hands, and are always in need of a new pair. Specifically an uncommon pair..”
Lisean smirked. Top secret business? How was he supposed to believe such codswallop. Closing his eyes, the necromancer lowered his head slightly, and muttered “Bullshit,” proclaiming Clement’s words merely lies. “Either tell me with a little more detail in exactly what you want done, and what I will get if I do, or I’m leaving to act on my own accord.”
Clement looked over the dead troll he had taken out, and wounded him. He thought about the words that came out of Lisean’s mouth, and sighed. He knew he needed a little more help, and that the task he accepted was a little more difficult than what he had imagined. “Alright, alright. I’ll comply with ye wishes. Just before I let ye hear what words are about to fall from my lips, I need ye to swear yourself to secrecy, and promise that ye are with me to the end of this mission. I can’t have ye decline, and tell your little tavern friends about the so-called ‘crap’ one tall guy told ye. You speak of anything, me and my mates will find out, and then you’ll have a number worthwhile over ye head.”
Lisean shook his head at first in response to the mindless babbling, and slowly opened his eyes to peer down at the stranger’s feet. He looked up at Clement, and combed a hand through his hair as he took the time to reconsider. Maybe if he had to lay down such a warning, the people he worked for knew how to give a hefty reward. Smiling some to himself, the necromancer nodded his head, and turned his back to Clement, just to suddenly send his foot into the gut of the dead troll, forcing the corpse onto its back. Of course, with so much force in a single kick, Lisean was aching, but only expressed his slight pain by looking down at his foot and shaking it around a bit.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Clement. Now, spill it.”