The Shadow of the Day

[Silence Sei]

((Closed to Mutant Lorenor and TheOrganism))

He scoured through the darkness. He could not find anything in the blackness that surrounded his form. For once in his life, Sei Orlouge was without direction, and also without Anita. He ran to the left to find nothing but the black void, he ran to the left to find the same. Finally, Sei could 'feel' Anita's presence near him. He still could not see his beloved daughter, but he could hear the teenager speaking.

"Get away from me!"

Sei reached out towards the voice, but could only hear footsteps running in the opposite direction. Sei followed the sound of Anita's panic and eventually found himself hitting a wall of some sort. Feeling around upon the cold surface, Sei had determined that he had actually come across a mirror. A light began to flicker on and Sei could finally see why Anita had been so panicked.

His eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were completely missing. Below his torso, his legs had shifted into the thorax of a spider, with four legs on each side of the mute holding his form upwards. Sei could not explain how he could 'see' this transformation with no eyes, but he knew what it had meant. Sei Orlouge had become an N'jalian Spider Magi.

Sei shot up from his bed in a fevered sweat. Looking over to bed on his right, Anita was nestled tightly under covers while snuggling up to a body pillow. Sei stared at the wooden wall of the inn the father and daughter had been staying at. Sei and Anita arrived at Raiaera a couple of days ago, and they were still no closer to getting what they needed.

Looking at the night stand dividing beds between him and Anita, Sei looked at an envelope. With the letter was a summons from the clergy of N'Jal. Sei knew of the cult. It was a bunch of people who worshiped the spider Thayne completely and fully. So much did they love N'Jal that several of the members were in progression to becoming spider magi themselves. Sei normally would not have answered such a summons, but the fact that it arrived two weeks after his nightmares had began had become too much of a coincidence.

Sei settled himself back into the bed. Like all of the other times, he knew he would wake up at least three more times in a cold sweat before the night was over. Looking over to Anita once more to confirm she was okay, Sei closed his eyes and drifted into slumber once more...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had arrived in the Forsaken City rather quickly after they had departed from port. Being able to fly sometimes granted you all the advantages in the world. Sei's eyes noticed the idols crafted into the form of N'Jal first thing. The Thayne was covered in more gold, silver and bronze than a wealthy Radasanth entrepreneur. The next thing he noticed was the way the buildings appeared.

They were twisted and contorted. It was as if a giant child had come by and bent everything out of place. The buildings would be towering upwards one moment, and jutting out of place the next. The architect of this dark town must have had a great headache on his hands building the towers to spec. Anita was much more transfixed with the fact that the town looked so dark and brooding, like a place where overly emotional vampires would go to talk about how much they loved human girls, but could never truly love them.

When Anita had explained how she felt about this place to her father, Sei smiled. This town seemed to be in desperate need of smiles, as the mute noticed how dark and strange this immense city seemed to be. Sei approached one of the town guards (or what he could only assume was one). Sei took in the rotting flesh of the massive man, thinking of his friend Aquath as he did so.

"Excuse me sir," Sei spoke, holding out the letter, "I seek the one known as Lorenor. I have a summons directly from him concerning N'Jal." The massive man did not move his eyes from staring outside of the city. He simply pointed downwards to a house within a bunch of houses. It was obvious from the newer designs of some of the homes that people were moving in.

"I'm telling you Papa, it's those emo vampires..." Anita trailed off while continuing to make her father smile. The two had knocked on several doors that did not answer. There were a couple of people who had just moved in that didn't know where this Lorenor fellow lived. However, Sei came across a house nearly smack dab between the old and the new. With a deep breath and look to Anita, Sei knocked three times...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

It was another busy cycle. Day in and day out, night in and night out, the mutant found himself oft in the Eye of Fate. Within that chamber, he could give sermons from the Necronomicon and introduce an eager public to the will of N'Jal. Business was booming, production was booming. Single-handedly, he'd managed to get the town constructed alongside his companion, MetalDrago Scorpio. Lorenor knew this because N'Jal knew this. He sat at his fine oak table, documents spread atop the table concerning various matters of the Forsaken City. Lorenor eyed the most important of the documents in his possession, carefully prioritizing items in a systematic fashion.

Preparing himself for another hard day's work, Lorenor had hired several accountants to personally assist him with the city-budget work. He was not the Mayor or leader of the town by any means, but he had high-reaching connections within. Lorenor personally knew the Mayor and Governor of the city, both officials elected by the mutant's people and installed there by N'Jal herself. The city needed to function, assets needed proper allocation, job growth, health-care services and any number of other libertarian matters needed doing. Most important, the Forsaken City needed a strong a military core. It had that.

Many powerful individuals fleeing the ravages of Xem'Zund's ravaging burning crusade joined the ranks of the Forsaken. With the promise of power too great to ignore, many flocked to Lorenor's fold. Survivors of former Valinatal came to the newly christened city in order to find employ, shelter, and other needs of city-life. Someone knocked on the mutant's closed door. After a moment, the mutant placed the documents he was working on atop the desk and looked at the door.

"Come." He commanded. "'Tis open." He added.

About a moment later, one of the servants within Lorenor's employ entered the room. She walked over to the mutant, nodded with profound respect, and then addressed him. "Liege. There is a strange fellow here to see you. Has has knocked thrice on the door. He is not Forsaken, and he doesn't appear to be a member of the Knights of Dawn." Hearing this new development, Lorenor stood up from his chair and walked over to the servant. All were equal before the eyes of N'Jal.

"I shall have audience with this fellow then. Let us learn his business here."

And Lorenor walked over to Sei Orlouge's person.

[TheOrganism]

Over a million bodies.

To many, the idea of a million lifeless corpses scattered across scorched earth could be categorized as unappealing, but to Tyler Burnett, it had sounded like a business opportunity. The middle-aged man had made a life out of killing creatures of prey and foul beasts that scoured the night. To the hunter, Raiaera had become a beacon for beasts, and that’s what lured him to the cursed nation, so far from his homeland of Corone.

A land in shambles. That’s all Raiaera was, now that the foul Necromancer Xem’zund had been toppled by an unlikely group of heroes. The event was so surreal that it left people actually questioning if the dark wizard’s reign had ever been more than a nightmare. Though the scars he left on the elvish lands were very much a reality. One horrible, Inerasable, nightmarish reality and Tyler was stranded smack-dab in the middle.

It had been two long, hellish months since the hunter had set out from Corone to Raiaera, and now more than ever he was struggling to place himself with a purpose. He had come to the elvish land to make an impact, but he had done nothing of the sort. Sure he had managed to pick off a couple of undead minions of the Necromancer, but after Xem’zund fell from his pinnacle of power, so did his horde; leaving Tyler to roam aimlessly through the foreign country without a cause.

On this day however, the hunter would find his prey. His purpose.


Scanning the sun-painted horizon with his dull hazel eyes, the hunter happened to spot a town. One that differed from the rest of the war torn countries battered towns. This one had character. This one seemed to strive where all the others had fallen short. It was decorated by an assortment of shimmering statues, each depicting the Thayne N’Jal. It was also garnished with several groups of towering and twisted houses.

However, the closer the hunter got to the town, the further the sun seemed to fade away, giving way to an almost endless canopy of twilight above.

A little less than a half a mile from the city of dusk, the landscape began to shift. At first it was nothing drastic, a few trees that reflected an odd ebony glow. Rocks that seemed to form naturally into the shape of human skulls. But as he neared the town closer it seemed he had entered a different world entirely.

One that was enshrouded in pure and unexplainable darkness.

Where am I? He questioned, taking a deep breath of fetid air. He quickly came to the conclusion that during his stay in this city, it would be best if he inhaled with his mouth, instead of his snout.

His first few steps into the dusk-furnished city he decided to find out where he was and where would be the best place to start looking for employment. Ahead of him was a rather tattered looking elf. He wore an ebony trimmed, brown robe and had only a few crumbling strands of hair left on his unnaturally oval head. Under his eyes were bags that were darker than the sky surrounding the tormented city. Tyler quickly decided that his services were definately needed in this city and shot the elf a warm smile.

“Good day, elf. I am Tyler Burnett, presenter of hope, and bringer of light.” Tyler pumped his chest out as if to impress the elf. “I come to your city in search of employment, or someone who can provide me with it.”

The elf just snorted. Not a casual, playful snort either. It was more engrossed with precipitous distrust.

Tyler paused, waiting for the elf to answer, but finally he grew impatient and asked again. “Can you at least point me in the right direction? Give me a name? Anything?!”

The elf simply extended a frail, wrinkled finger towards a row of houses. He then said something that triggered a somewhat alarming chill in Tyler’s chest. “Seek out the mutant, if ye’ fancy ye’self a brave man, for not many outsiders cross his path and leave this city… Unchanged.”

Chills or not, it was a start, and by the looks of it, the town could use Tyler’s assistance.

[Silence Sei]

Sei and Anita awaited their host to greet them as his servant sent for him. "Do you really think this guy will be able to help, Papa?" Sei shrugged to his daughter's question. The truth was, anybody who could decipher the mute's dreams could help him at this point, it didn't matter who they were. The mute's eyes shifted to the form that began to approach them, Anita's eyes growing wide with fear as Lorenor approached.

"What -are- you?!" Anita said in utter disgust. Sei's eyes shot down to his daughter, who nodded to her father. "I'm sorry sir; I'm not used to someone with your...unique appearance."

Sei could understand his daughter's reaction. The tall man had such a dark air about him. The features all over the mutant resembled what Sei had started to become in his dreams. There were no eyes, no ears, nothing to distinguish the man's facial features. Even the purple energies that seeped out through where his eyes once were screamed warnings to the mystic. This 'Lorenor' was quite the being to behold.

"I am Sei Orlouge, Sei's voice filled Lorenor's mind, "I have received a letter from you. A summons of some sort. I hear tell that you are close to N'Jal? Your...looks sort of confirm that you are. I wish to talk to you about a dream I have been having. Is there somewhere where we may sit and talk?" Lorenor nodded and took a step towards the mute when the door was knocked upon again.

Lorenor began to summon one of his people, but Sei shook his head towards the mute. "No, sir. It is fine if you have another appointment. Perhaps it was the will of your Thayne that we should meet like this." Lorenor nodded slightly to the mute and signaled for one of his people to now get the door. All were welcomed by N'Jal, after all.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Standing with perfect posture, the mutant felt a familiar pull of energy resonating from the mute. Lorenor felt a presence in his mind, an unfamiliar one that he attempted to shut out at first. However, due to the nature of his psychosis, the mutant could not. At least not at this level of his evolution. Feeling the strange presence in the back of his skull left the mutant feeling strangely vulnerable. He looked at Sei for a long moment. Images from the intruder's mind flashed back and forth for a moment forming a sequenced series of events that explained how Sei got to that current location.

Lorenor clung to the memories for a moment as he looked at the mute. A strange sense of familiarity touched the mutant's black heart. There were questions that Lorenor had for Sei Orlouge. Most importantly, he witnessed the child's reaction. Shaking his head briefly, the mutant saw the third party approaching them. Just like N'Jal said it would happen. Lorenor thought to himself as Tyler approached the small group.

"You have all answered my summons. Most excellent." Lorenor turned to look at Sei with a stern expression on his face. "Warn people before you use that form of communication again...some in this settlement will not take kindly to it." Then his expression relaxed a bit, growing slightly more comfortable with the new presence in his head. Already filled with multiple voices, why would he mind the addition of a new voice? Lorenor swept his arms in a grand gesture bowing towards his guests.

"No doubt you are wondering why you have been summoned. There is a reason. This is a settlement governed by N'Jal. N'Jal is the law here. I am one of the members of the clergy. A High Priest. There is employ for those of you who seek it. There is opportunity to come to know N'Jal. There will be a chance for all of that. But now, I trust the three of you have questions. Questions that need answering, am I correct in assuming that?" Lorenor turned to look at Sei. "You are having strange dreams indeed my friend. What you are experience...come let us speak in my apartment. We shall have privacy there." He motioned towards Sei, Tyler, and Sei's daughter to follow after him. "There is much to discuss since the fall of Xem'Zund has gone public..."

[TheOrganism]

Before Tyler received anybodies name or even presented his own, he was being treated with hospitality that he hadn’t encountered since his arrival to Raiaera. The mutant, whose eyes burned violently purple, quickly accepted Tyler into his home and offered for him, and another set of travelers to return to his apartment. In the small, friendly town of Underwood this gesture wasn’t odd, or even strange in the least. But here in Raiaera, a land torn from corner to corner by constant tragedy and turmoil, it was unheard of. Until now.

That wasn’t to say Tyler didn’t feel welcome though.

In fact he felt so welcome that he almost forgot to introduce himself.

“By the way, I’m Tyler Burnett.” He stated while following the rag-tag group down an assortment of winding halls and spiral staircases.

“We will have time for introductions shortly Tyler.” The mutant said as he turned yet another dark corner.

The first thing Tyler noted about the mutant, the town, and the house itself, was the almost overbearing influence N’Jal herself had there. It was as if the Dark Lady was actually there, in the flesh. He felt her power flowing from every corner like water from a faucet. He saw her taint pouring from the earth and the walls like ooze seeping through vacant cracks. If it was possible, he could even smell her, but then again it could’ve just been the mutant.

I’ve got to remember to inhale with my mouth, damnit. He cursed himself for poisoning his nostrils once again, but simply shrugged the smell off a moment later when a foreign voice entered his head.

“Greetings Tyler, I am Sei Orlouge. This is my daughter Anita.” The voice entering his head had come from the mystic, at least that was Tyler’s first assumption. “Forgive our host for being hasty, something tells me we have much to discuss, and little time to do so.”

Despite how delirious Tyler felt about foreign voices entering his head, it was the first time anybody had made sense since his arrival to the misshapen city.

Before Tyler could reply to the mystic, their mutant host stopped cold in front of a large door, and turned to the party.

“Here we are.” He stated, while pushing open the door to reveal the room of twilight beyond.

[Silence Sei]

"I'm sorry about Papa earlier," Anita spoke to Lorenor, "he is mute, and can't speak in any other way than telepathy. He forgets that he's doing it sometimes and doesn't realize that some people don't particularly like another voice in their head." Sei looked to Anita and nodded his confirmation on her assessment. Sei's version of talking was what he had been accustomed to since he could form a sentence, so it was hard not to do it to introduce ones self. The mute looked to the room the spider magi had lead the group to.

The first thing the mute noticed was an overabundance of furniture. It was as if someone threw up the sale at 'Homes To Go'. Sofas were strewn about the large room, with the addition of quite a few bookcases. The second thing that caught his eye was the lack of windows in this room. No light could enter the area unless it came from magic or electricity. It was understandable, as Spider Magi weren't too keen on the light, being the 'children of N'Jal' and all.

The final thing Sei noticed is the layout of the doors connected to this room. several different entrances scattered themselves upon the walls of the central room. Sei had deduced that this was the meeting point of most visitors to the spider magi, and Lorenor in particular. Sei looked to his side to find Anita already jumping onto a couch in the lying down position. Sei raised an eyebrow at his daughter before she started her gag about 'I guess my problems started with my mother...'

"As Anita said, forgive my intrusion of your mind, Lord Lorenor. I sometimes forget my manners." Sei followed his daughter to a sofa located parallel to her a good ten feet away. The mystic sat on the cushions and adjusted himself. He was used to having guests, not being one. The strange turn of events made Sei slightly uncomfortable, and he was sure someone who felt as powerful as Lorenor could sense this.

"I have been having reoccurring dreams. They all end the same way, with me turning into an N'Jal Spider Magi. While I have no problems with the spider magi as a whole, I do not particularly feel like becoming one myself. The sheer fact that you sent me your summons a few weeks after the dreams began tells me that your Goddess has some sort of plan for me. Since we are in a room of N'Jal's law, I would ask that either of you might help me determine the meaning of such dreams..."

Sei wasn't going to beat around the bush on this matter. If he could avoid becoming something like Lorenor, he would. The mute only hoped that he hadn't already begun his transformation process by being here...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Standing atop an ornate rug in the midst of the sofa collection, Lorenor looked at his three guests with an expression of approval. It was clear to him that they were allies in his quest to spread the word of N'Jal. Folding his arms across his chest, Lorenor listened to everything that the mute said. He analyzed every single detail, absorbed it into the back of his mind. As the mute spoke, the mutant received certain images that flowed into the back of his mind as well. He envisioned Sei Orlouge as a Spider-Magi, and thought that the mute would become a rather handsome one at that.

Putting a hand to his chin, the mutant listened until Sei was done speaking. He looked over to Tyler Burnett for a long moment, and motioned that the fellow could take a seat as well. After all, N'Jal was one who could kill you with kindness. Lorenor waited a few moments before he responded to Sei's basic most concerns. He understood the nature of the recurring dreams for the mutant knew everything about The Spider-Magi that The Necronomicon could teach. Which was just about everything. Everything that didn't require personal experience. Though Lorenor was a maturing Spider-Magi, he still lacked the physical appearance of one except for the key markers of one.


A Spider-Magi needs no eyes.

A Spider-Magi needs no ears.

A Spider-Magi needs no nose.

A Spider-Magi needs no tongue.

A Spider-Magi needs only the will of N'Jal.


Armed with that knowledge, the mutant went towards a certain position of the apartment and removed three books. These three books comprised the teachings of The Spider-Magi and were known solely as The Necronomicon. Walking with the volumes held in underneath his arms, the mutant moved to the centre of the rug in between his guests. He set the works down upon the ground, opening each volume to a certain page. Of course, to outsiders, the books' pages would appear to have no words anywhere upon them. Furthermore, the books would have a wreak of violence in carnage since the tomes were constructed from human flesh and human gore.

Constructed ages ago, the mutant went through tremendous amounts of personal struggle to acquire his copy of The Necronomicon. The journey lead him to the depths of Haidia, the far reaches of Salvar, and even lands beyond that. Lorenor looked at the works with reverence. For they represented the word of N'Jal. To Lorenor, the words written on the pages appeared in the blood-red crimson symbols of The Spider-Magi. The fell symbols appeared before Lorenor's eyes, and Sei Orlouge, with his connection to Lorenor's twisted skull would be able to see the confusing and bizarre symbolism. Lorenor pointed to one of the pages.

He read in in the common, translating the passages of The Necronomicon.

"Chosen by N'Jal, her children are the feared children known as the Spider Magi. In order for individuals outside of the fold to begin the journey, they must receive the trial of benediction." Lorenor said, and then continued. "This trial consists of challenges presented by the dark lady that manifest differently by Spider Magi. They are the test of psychological resolve, readiness to sacrifice to the dark lady, and the strength to carve out a place within Spider-Magi society." Lorenor continued. "The rite of benediction begins with a series of signs and omens." He turned the book a few pages and pointed to another series of passages. "Omens vary in manifestations." Lorenor nodded to himself as if he had realized something. "The answer is clear Sei Orlouge. The dark lady has a plan for you. What this means, is that perhaps you are to become a Spider-Magi, or perhaps, you will become a servant to the dark lady in some other fashion. Whatever the transformation might entail, one thing is clear. I am to assist you all in your conversion to N'Jal's fold." Lorenor kept the books open, looking in the general direction of his guests.

"Where are my manners? If any of you require any food drink, I can send for some immediately." Lorenor said suddenly looking at Anita Orlouge with a playful grin on his face. Then, he turned back to the adults in the room. "It is clear that N'Jal is asking a test of you two. Thank you for answering my summons so quickly. When N'Jal calls, it is wise to listen."

[TheOrganism]

Tyler listened quietly and patiently from his chair. He was beginning to feel slightly out of place among the group of veteran travelers. Both the mute and the mutant held ties to the dark mother N’Jal, which gave them a purpose for meeting. The mute’s daughter, a young and energetic girl, was tied into the fate of her father, which gave her motive for being there. But Tyler, he had no purpose, he felt almost useless to the group.

“Excuse my interruption gentlemen,” Tyler interjected after the mutant offered food and drinks. “But I am struggling to find my place here. Unlike mister Sei, I have not been experiencing unnatural dreams. I know of N’Jal and the other Thayne, but I tend to steer clear of organized religion.”

Tyler glanced at Lorenor, whose eyes were scanning the hunter with intrigue.

“I have come to your town simply for employment. Unless I am a victim of fate, I highly doubt my purpose is to serve N’Jal.” Tyler stated, trying hard to hide the fact that he had slain many followers of N’Jal in the past.

[Silence Sei]

"Two milks for us please!" Anita replied to Lorenor while raising her hand upwards. The mutant had just bombarded Sei with a ton of information as to what his dream could mean. Apparently, N'Jal had a plan for the mute, but not even Lorenor knew what that plan was. As Sei was about to speak, the other person in the room made his presence known once more. Sei turned to Tyler with a slight smile forming across his lips.

"I believe fate is negotiable. We construct our own destiny, but our past choices lead us to where we are now. I actually do have need of a bodyguard. Personally, I am not entirely comfortable being here in such a place without somebody besides Anita rallied to my cause for sure. For all I know, I could be a sacrifice for the Dark Lady. I wish to employ your services, if I may Mister Tyler. Perhaps that is what you were supposed to be here for today?"

The message was sent strictly to Tyler. Sei did not want Lorenor to know that the mute had not fully trusted him yet. Indeed, it was rather hard to trust such an awkward looking man, especially in a town of undead and spider magi. Sei leaned back as he began to ponder what exactly someone as allegedly dark as N'Jal could have planned for him, the Avatar of Alerar?

Finally, Sei spoke back up to Lorenor. "Lord Lorenor, is there any sort of ceremony to take place here soon? Anything huge that has to do with N'Jal? Any information would greatly help me determine what my purpose here is. I don't wish to continue to waste everyone's time with my ramblings and questions, so the sooner we can figure this out the better. Would you not agree?"

"And make mine Chocolate!" Anita shouted as Sei finished talking. Apparently, the girl had not been paying attention since she ordered her dairy deliciousness.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The voice in the back of his head that spoke to him from Sei's mind remained at least a partially uncomfortable feeling. Trying to guard his mind against the telepath was difficult for he did not want the secrets of N'Jal to be revealed without just cause. As a follower of N'Jal, Lorenor knew that he needed to act quickly in all manners regarding the dark lady. Standing up, the mutant smiled in the general direction of Anita Orlouge. Looking at a nearby servant that had just entered, the mutant waved his hand towards her person. Obliging, she walked towards Lorenor's general direction. Whispering something in the girl's ears, she nodded after a moment or two. Then, he saw her off and she went to retrieve some food-stuffs for their guests.

Sitting down on the floor once more, the mutant looked at his newly found companions. Addressing them all would be a careful event. His eyes capable of seeing everyone in the room at all times, the mutant studied Tyler Burnett, and then he studied Sei and his daughter last. His gaze was one of general acceptance to the adventurers. His only regret was that the good Captain, MetalDrago Scorpio, was not there to assist him in this matter. He typically preferred having MetalDrago's presence where such matters where concerned.

A short time later, the servant-girl came back with food and drink. There was Milk in a pitcher, chocolate milk in an extra pitcher, a pitcher of some sort of a strawberry shake for Lorenor, and a drink suitable for Tyler. Lorenor had ordered some hot, fragrant tea for them all. Though an undead, the mutant still had very human tastes in food and drink. Pouring himself some strawberry shake, Lorenor filled a goblet. Then, he filled extra goblets with the other drinks in the general direction of Anita, Sei, and Tyler. Lorenor looked at the large dish before them there was a wide assortment of fruits and snacks. Some meats were present as well. Hams, bolognes, and other treats. Some were spicy others were sweet. Aromas filled the room which were actually quite pleasant.

When Sei spoke to him again, the mutant was eating some cheese. It was swiss cheese, and he was eating it with some crackers.

"Before we discuss that matter...feel free to eat. I am certain you are all hungry and thirsty. I took the liberty of preparing us some herbal tea, I've never been a big fan of ale." Lorenor grinned after that. "When I have the taste for it, I tend to prefer fine Elven Wine, or hard Dwarven Vodka." Then, Lorenor got serious. He looked at Tyler, addressing him first. "If you've come looking for work you're in the right place. We have a lot of projects that could use an extra hand or three. Furthermore, your employment does not require you to be a servant of the dark lady." The mutant turned towards Sei. "There is actually a festival that occurs tonight. It's a rite of catastrophe." He said carefully. "It is one of the dark lady's many ceremonies. I will be giving a sermon there personally. Perhaps you should attend." Lorenor invited. He continued to eat in silence afterward.

[Silence Sei]

Sei and Anita looked to one another. A rite of catastrophe sounded like something that Sei would be completely against normally. After all, Sei Orlouge was the nemesis of catastrophe, the guardian of order. To partake in such a thing to simply cure his night terrors seemed so ridiculous that normally the two would take their leave then and there.

Of course, Sei had to be absolutely sure he was not becoming a spider magi. He did not want to look like the man before him, eyes glowing purple and with such loyalty to the Dark Lady within him that Sei could actually feel it. Sei looked back towards Lorenor, nodding his satisfaction with the prophet's suggestion. The group continued to eat in silence for the rest of the day. After all, none of the four really had much more to say to one another.

~~~~~~~~~~

The festival was looking to be a great sort of spectacle for anybody. All around, black streamers were hanging from light posts. The citizens seemed to perk up a bit in celebration for the event, something that Sei welcomed from the dreary townsfolk. Even the smell of the place had improved, teeming with at least a few lively people rather just a stench of death that constantly plagued the mystic.

Sei was standing where Lorenor would give his sermon. A stage of livol oak that lifted all who stood on it a good six feet off of the ground. Lorenor's small stature would have required such a height advantage given to him. The mute noted the lack of a podium, thinking that the spider magi probably gave his speeches unscripted. A crowd of people were slowly forming around the mute, the anticipation for the sermon building. Lorenor would be up in a few minutes.

Sei looked around for his daughter during these events. When he saw no sign of the girl, he merely shrugged his shoulders. Anita could take care of herself if she absolutely needed to. She was his daughter after all. Sei looked to the stage with the same enthusiasm as the crowd around him. Hopefully this festival would provide all of the answers he sought.

Yet, the mute could not help but shake the feeling of dread that descended upon him, not for himself, but for this city....

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Meanwhile--

Atop a hill that was strategically located near the township of the undead stood a small contingency of The Knights of Dawn. They were a group of Demon Slayers that originated in Corone and traveled across Althanas in different expeditions to prevent demonic uprisings. They had failed so far in Raiaera to prevent the renegade Xem'Zund from taking things over in the Elven land, but Heroes rose up during the recent war to defeat him. Rumours were alive that the legendary Hero, Devon Starslayer rose to lay the final blow to Xem'Zund within a party of high-quality adventurers.

These thoughts were in the head of the Squad Commander Neal Kargut. He stared at the undead town through a simple binoculars that he carried on his person as his men prepared for the war that was ahead. Knowing that it was a certain night, the night of Walpurgis, The Commander ordered his companions to be extra careful. They were a full squadron of warriors, roughly twenty strong and fully trained. Their polished armour could ward off
many evil powers. Their weapons were also warded with powerful runes capable of inflicting great harm against the undead.

So as The Commander stood at the ready, his men prepared their battle mounts. As they readied their equipment, The Commander sat on a white mare that was fully armoured. Several companions were around him that wore similar suits of armour and also mounted on horses. Foot soldiers were around the party as they made final preparations for the raid. Their many weapons were readied on their persons as they made last minute calculations, strategic planning and so forth. The Commander looked at his companion who stood at his left. He nodded towards him.

"Their leader is a man named Lorenor. We've held him in our fold for long, but so far he has evaded death on every attempt. So we have not pursued him as a target." The man said carefully. "But now, the cult has grown far too dangerous. N'Jal..." He said that word with acid in his voice. "...Has grown too powerful. We must stop this madness. By the virtue of all that is true and pure in this world." Neals said as he looked at his long time friend, an old Prophet by the name of Nenkulor. The man simply smiled and adjusted himself in his saddle. Neal continued to speak. "All other Forsaken must be captured or eliminated. We must take only their leaders. The Dark Clergy. We must find the source of N'Jal on Althanas." He said with growing anger in his voice. "This is for your accolades gentlemen."

And with that, the small raiding party prepared to strike against the heart of The Forsaken...

***
The Festival of Catastrophe was a yearly event. It happened every year, to the minute, on the night of Walpurgis. Lorenor took center strange, a position he'd become very comfortable in of late. His eyes were wide and glowed with a tremendous ferocity. The ferocity of a madman. As Lorenor took his place before the gathered Forsaken, The High Priest looked in Sei's general direction with a wink. Then, he turned towards the gathered masses looking like a twisted evangelist. As he began to ready his speech, something happened. Something unexpected. The enemy attacked.

Several arrows lit with magical flames began to fly through the air and landed on key locations meant to trap The Forsaken within the confines of their small township. Lorenor turned towards the general direction that the attackers were coming. There was no warning, it was simply a raid. Several warriors on horseback came marching into the town proper attacking everything in sight. Archers at a distance launched several volleys of flaming arrows, and warriors on foot ran towards the gathered throng of Forsaken. Though they were caught off guard, The Forsaken were certainly not weak.

Members of the undead army quickly gathered supplies and weapons, male and female, and prepared to defend their turf. The warriors on horseback were the biggest problem. They trampled all over Forsaken as they came crashing through the gathered crowd and began to hack heads off of Forsaken's bodies. It was a bloody scene, one that boiled Lorenor's blood to behold. The men on the horses became Lorenor's main focus point. Lorenor pulled his prevalida longsword from its nearby position, and began to run towards the mounted warriors on horseback. Lorenor recognized the banners and flags that the men wielded from several past encounters...The Knights of Dawn.

Lorenor dove from the stage to engage the nearest of the warriors...

[Silence Sei]

Sei had prepared for Lorenor to make the first word in what could have been a long-winded speech. However, as the mutant was clearing his throat ( or whatever appendage a being like Lorenor needed in order to speak), several arrows slammed into the crowd. The mute's eyes narrowed at his host, his first thoughts going to this ceremony actually being some sort of sick sacrifice. However, the horror upon Lorenor's 'face' told Sei that this was not part of the program.

The mystic's eyes went to the people around, finding several undead warriors scrambling to ready themselves. A good portion of these warriors were easily trampled by less combat oriented undead. Still, the soldiers rose with broken arms, limp legs and a few bludgeoned faces in order to defend their home land. Though they were incredibly different from what Sei Orlouge currently was, he understood all too well the need to keep ones home safe.

Turning to the sound of hooves upon mud, Sei found himself being charged by a knight, armor glistening in the rays of the moonlight. The long sword of the knight swung at the mystic's head, Sei managing to tuck his body downward to avoid the lethal swipe. The mute grinned as he heard the horse turned around. His foe was irritated with his miss, and was coming back for a second round. The screams and cries of the populace were now a faint whisper in Sei's mind. He turned, and saw the brown steed charging once more.

This time, the sword was brought down at Sei's head last minute. But this time, Sei was prepared. The sudden jolt of hitting something knocked the young knight off of his mount. Splashing mud onto Sei's feet, the youth looked up to see broken glass surrounding the form of the mute. The glass shot outwards without warning, piercing a few undead (who merely shrugged the damage off) and stunning several of the knights.

"Y-Y-You're Sei Orlouge..." the voice said, completely thrown off (pun intended) by the sudden realization of who he attacked. Sei nodded as he looked at the knight’s helmet, kneeling down and raising the face plate up. He had to know what one of these racist cowards looked like. When the face staring at him was a rosy cheeked, blue eyed youth, however, Sei's eyes widened. The locks of golden hair had snuck across his face, and the man no longer seemed to be wearing the appropriate garbs Sei had imagined for him.

"Tracer? Tracer the Sniper?" The sting of seeing an old friend attempt to execute innocent people was something that stood against everything Sei had fought for. A hand found itself around Tracer's neck, lifting the boy up with the slightest of ease.

"It's time for some answers." Sei spoke, anger seething in his every word, anger the telepath had no idea was coming from an outside force...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Lorenor's arms wrapped around the waist of an incoming mounted warrior. Feeling the muscles underneath the warded armour, the mutant frowned as he knocked the man off of the horse. The two tumbled around themselves for a few paces as the grapple commenced. Knocking against the ground hard, Lorenor felt bruises welt up on his powerful body. Wincing with pleasure against the pain, the mutant reached for solid ground attempting to separate himself from the soldier. A difficult task, Lorenor finally managed to pull himself skillfully up and off the ground as he stared at the rising soldier. Moving against the momentum of the soldier, Lorenor suddenly dashed forward leaped off the ground. Maneuvering his body in a perfect drop-kick technique, the mutant landed the heels of his boots square in the chest of the armoured knight.

Grinning as Lorenor knocked the man off his feet, the mutant moved in. He sailed through the air for a few more paces and landed in a tumble. At the end of the maneuver, Lorenor rose off the ground and turned to see the man clutching at his chest. Blood was trickling from the man's mouth which suggested internal bleeding. Both realities made the mutant grin widely and he started to laugh at the man's plight. Lorenor stalked his target slowly as he drew a very specific pair of weapons. Masterwork in nature, the mutant was now armed with a pair of mythril daggers won ages ago. Lorenor walked slowly with both daggers held at a middle center of gravity. The blade-tips were pointing downwards toward the ground.

Rotating the weapons in his hands at the same time, Lorenor raised the tip so that they faced skyward. As he walked in close to his target, the man was drawing a plynt broadsword. The blade's green metal reflected the moonlight as the man attempted to recover his ground. It was already too late for him as the sadomasochistic nature of the mutant who was attacking was revealed. Lorenor started to laugh in the general direction of the man as he moved in close. Licking his lips with pleasure, the mutant felt arousal at the man's pain. Oh yes, I shall bring The Pyre to you my friend. The mutant could taste the blood that trickled down the man's face. As he studied the man, he could hear the war drums all around the town that the Undead had built for themselves. The Undead living under the banner of N'Jal were free, sentient beings who bore no allegiance to any Necromancer.

They were an arm of N'Jal. Lorenor was N'Jal's mouth. When he walked towards the man, he started laughing like a twisted hyena. The sound was deep, guttural, and filled with malice. As Lorenor finally reached the man, the fellow attacked with all the skill he could muster. Lorenor was impressed at the strength of the man as he countered the mutant's stalk. There was a ferocity in his target's eyes that he had seldom seen in normal men. These men were fanatics, and finally, Lorenor recognized the symbols on the breastplate and cloak of the man. Knights of Dawn! What are these pups doing here in Raiaera!? Why have they come!? Lorenor thought to himself as he began the assault. All around, men, women, and even young Undead were taking up the call to help defend The Forsaken City.

As the man gathered himself, Lorenor saw that the fellow raised his weapon with both hands and lashed out at the mutant. It was an attack that was like a bird-of-prey diving for a rodent in the grass. Lorenor saw the glint of green shining in the moonlight as it moved towards him. With a sadistic grin Lorenor never bothered to move. He knew something that the man didn't know. He knew the fighting style of The Order, and that truth made the mutant an exceedingly dangerous target. Lorenor did not move when the man attacked, he had an ulterior motive. He simply shifted his body weight to take the hit in an ideal location. As a master of extreme close combat range, Lorenor was prepared to sacrifice life and limb for his cause.

His cause was N'Jal. When the sword plunged into the left side of his body, at the region of his pectoral muscle, the mutant began to laugh hysterically. This pain was an elegant sensation, a sensation that made him release his hot liquid in his pants. He had an orgasm right then and there at the pleasure he felt from the pain that the man caused him. Lorenor's twin purple furnaces gazed at the man from the very depths of The Pyre itself. He grinned widely, a hideous expression. Closing his eyes and sighing with pleasure, the mutant felt it when the man pushed his weapon deeper in his body. All the way in. The penetration was somehow erotic to the mutant.

And there, in the middle of the attack, Lorenor felt something. At first, he thought that the emotion was hate. But as the insane mutant's mind analyzed the emotion further, he understood it for what it was. For only a madman could truly love a thing of the darkness, and these men were madmen. Lorenor felt love from the strike that the man placed against his person. Satisfied that his analysis was correct, the mutant felt one of his arms go limp, but the other still functioned. Within the extreme close combat range, Lorenor looked at the man carefully as he came in close. The side of the man's head was right against Lorenor's face, and the mutant could taste the heat of the man. Lorenor turned to speak into the man's ear using his powers of manipulation against the man. He even went so far as to embrace the man with his working arm, still holding the dagger in it, the situation too good to pass up.

If anything, Lorenor fancied himself a master manipulator.

"There is love in your strikes. You only think you hate me and my people. But that is just the brainwashing of your Faith talking. I know your heart well, your heart desires power. The power that your people have promised you, yet denied you."

Lorenor was tasting the blood flowing from the man's lips. He could taste it in his mouth, but it was not yet time to feast upon the man. The man had a use to the mutant. And that use would be exploited as all men served their purpose to the will of N'Jal. Sweat trickled down the bodies of both men, and the heat that was exchanged between either body was glorious. The mutant stared directly ahead of himself as he felt the man's body against his own, sweat passing between the two of them. It was a glory to serve N'Jal to his fully, Lorenor knew, and that's what would become of this man too. He felt an erection in his pants, and the erection bulged against the man's erection that stood before him now, dying slowly from the inside out.

"You know not what you speak of." Lorenor heard the man say. "I am loyal to the Order. I will die for the Order..."

Lorenor suddenly raised a hand gently, lifted a finger, and placed the tip on the man's lips.

"No my friend. It is you who are wrong. You will not know death, death will elude you. I have the power to change you. To make you more powerful and to show you the truth that your people have robbed from you." Lorenor said with a smile on his lips. The man's earlobe was inches from his lips. The mutant kissed the man's earlobe gently. He could feel the man shaking underneath his armour. Only N'Jal is the truth. Lorenor thought to himself as he suckled upon the man's earlobe every so softly. "Follow me boy. And you will learn the truth. The truth that only my master can offer." When the man slackened his grip on Lorenor, the mutant knew he had succeeded in breaking the man down. And I shall rebuild you in the image of The Master. Extending his maxilla, the mutant felt his jaws pull, rip, and shred as he sunk his teeth into the man's neck.

There was no struggle. Only a slackened relaxation of the muscles, as the man gripped against Lorenor's body. There was a sigh of pleasure from the man's lip. No good soldier. You will not be wasted. That is your fate, the flesh will live on, the pleasure you will know will be complete. For I am, Lorenor. Hear me roar. When the blood passed through the mutant's lips, something passed back into the human from the same transfusion. Something dark, something ancient. Billions of tiny machines passed into the bloodstream of the man. Taking instant effect, Lorenor stepped back as he'd swallowed the man's blood and fed off the flesh. There would be time for pleasure later. The man fell to his knees before Lorenor's eyes and began to convulse as the technovirus took over his body. No. As N'Jal took over his body. Lorenor's smile became even wider, and he licked his lips of the remaining blood he had drunk. The man's change took approximately a few moments, and it had added another to the ranks of The Undead. It was power that Lorenor possessed, and it was power he had earned.

Lorenor's eyes never left the form of the beautiful creature before him. He became a pale gray member of The Undead, his muscles filling out. As the man stood up, he removed the armour of The Knights of Dawn. It landed in the mud beneath them. The man turned Undead walked towards Lorenor and embraced his Master.

"I follow in the ways of N'Jal." The man said. "My life is yours to command."

Lorenor nodded and removed the sword from his body after sheathing the daggers. He rotated the sword so that he could give the weapon back to the fellow before him, handle first. Lorenor felt the injury that was inflicted upon his person regenerating quickly, it was not a lethal wound. When The Forsaken grabbed the plynt sword in his hand, he followed Lorenor. All around the mutant's person, battles were taking place. But something else was happening. The dead were rising once more to fill the ranks of N'Jal's followers. The act of Necromancy was a perverse act, one that defiled the living and made Brothers act against Brothers.

Lorenor waved his healthy hand in a fist. As chaos erupted all around The Forsaken's town, several nearby allies saw Lorenor's raised fist. The ones who were capable of breaking away from their battles ending the fights quickly as they could and obeyed the call of N'Jal. Leaders and Generals were powerful members of an opposition army. The Knights of Dawn had their commanding officers, and The Forsaken had their Clergy. Now, the bad-boys of the Forsaken were stepping onto the field. Lorenor was quickly surrounded by an escort of elite Warriors. These were Lorenor's personal Honour Guard and were charged with guarding The Eye of Fate, when those duties were called for. Now was a time of war, and the raid would be stopped.

Lorenor turned to his fellows.

"Gentlemen." Lorenor said, as he once again readied the mythril daggers. Feeling already returned to his injured arm. "Destroy at will. Bring me their leader ALIVE. For he will serve tribute to N'Jal."

Rallied, his Forsaken acted with deadly efficiency. Those who heard his words became killing fanatics. They fought like the monsters of fairy tales, willing to sacrifice life and limb for N'Jal. Then, a powerful rumble made the ground shake and Lorenor was pleased. Answer the call of N'Jal. The Spider Magi have arrived...

And for a few seconds on Althanas, an image of The Pyre was visible worse than a painting of The Demon Wars.

[Silence Sei]

Tracer the Sniper's eyes weakened under the persecuting look of Sei Orlouge. Tracer had always been one of the mute’s top generals during the Gisela Open tournaments, and now here he was, serving as a lackey to a bunch of bigots. The mute merely shook his head, which seemed to be enough for Tracer to spill all of the beans.

"I thought you were dead, Sei," Tracer managed to stammer out, "I heard you had succumbed to your disease, became a full-fledged evil vampire. Rumors were that Seth Dahlios himself had to strike you down. I swore myself to the Knights of the Dawn in order to avenge you, the real you. I did it in memory of the Hero of Radasanth! I had no choice!"

Sei's eyes lit up with a new sense of anger. Using uncommon strength he typically did not have, Sei lifted the youth, forcing his gaze to look at all of the carnage. All over the place, the Forsaken were slaying the Knights. Lorenor's personal guard was cutting a swath through almost anything that had a true pulse. The whole town was literally painted red with the blood of Tracer's comrades.

"YOU HAD A CHOICE!" Sei yelled, Tracer grabbing his head as the telepath screamed into his mind, "THIS IS WHAT YOUR CHOICE BROUGHT! YOU HAVE TO LIVE WITH THEIR DEATHS! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!" Sei could see the boy’s eyes well up with tears at what he had done. Tracer had been the one sent to scout the city, he had planned the attack with Neal Kargut, and he had even vowed to slay the most undead than anyone else.

"This.....this isn't what I wanted Sei, you gotta believe me..." Sei threw the archers body down. Tracer went lip for a moment before looking back up at the hero.

"[i]Then change it."

Tracer nodded, a bit of blood trickling down his mouth from the force of Sei's throw. "Th-there's another force coming. a bigger one. I don't even think you'll be able to handle it..."

"When?"

As Sei finished asking the question, he could hear the screams of his child in the distance. Even among the entire sword clanging, the painful moans of the dying, Sei could differentiate Anita's voice from the rest. Turning, Sei saw his teenage daughter stumbling over bodies trying to get to the telepath, trying to warn him.

"Now...." Tracer whispered, still a bit caught up in the destruction he had so willingly allowed.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Meanwhile--

Was the enemy underestimated?

Squad Commander Neal Kargut was fending off The Forsaken as they came in waves. It seemed that their legendary regenerative capacity was in fact not a legend at all. Despite their best efforts, the undead came back in waves and even the ones who were killed were seemingly capable of coming back as if some darker necromancy was at work. Neal could not believe what he was seeing. His men were getting slaughtered, but not only that, they were revived as ranks for the undead in an efficient fashion that surprised the veteran warrior. Neal impaled a nearby warrior with his spear after realizing that, in fact, it was one of his own soldiers turned undead. Neal clenched his teeth tightly as he did the deed. A few moments later, fell magics were worked and he saw the fellow rise from the grasp of death once again.

"Captain, what do we do?! There are too many and they keep coming!"

This was not a battle, it was a slaughter. A one-sided slaughter.

"Use your wards, that should slow them down and buy time for our reinforcements to show." Neal yelled through it all.

"Aye sir, will that be sufficient?!" The second horse-back riding warrior asked. He was part of the armed escort that surrounded Neal at all times.

"Just, follow orders, soldier!" Neal found himself yelling, his anger at the walking dead quite visible.

Raiaera's once-beautiful land had been tainted by the walking dead. It all started with the Necromancer, Xem'Zund, but it would become an endless cycle. The magic of the Elves had caused an irreparable situation that infringed upon the safety and sanctity of the rest of Althanas. If even of one of these squads of undead made it past Niadath Pass, the rest of Althanas would suffer Raiaera's fate. Doom seemed imminent. That's why the Knights of Dawn were dispatched from Corone to secure the land of Raiaera from its current blight. It was supposed to be an easy mission. Go in, secure the front-line and eradicate the undead where they stood. This new development ruins the entire plan. How can we stand against an army that won't quit?! Neal thought to himself as he decapitated two of the undead with a prevalida-tipped spear. Each of The Knights were armed with several warded weapons as per their proficiency.

The wards were supposed to destroy the undead with exceeding efficiency. However, there was a development Neal and his superiors had not accounted for: N'Jal. Try all they might, the secrets of the Thayne were foreign to their studies. The Knights of Dawn were directly opposed to The Cult of N'Jal. Now though, N'Jal had returned to Althanas and was exacting her vengeance upon her siblings: The Thayne. Neal thought about The Thayne as they attacked N'Jal's servants. Is this all worth it? My brothers are dying...where in the fuck is my back-up!? Accessing the power of his ward, a distinctive halo of energy surrounded his spear. I pray to Lord Draconus that this is enough...grant me strength. Neal thought. He threw his spear towards an approaching undead warrior. The fellow was hurled backwards several yards and impaled to the ground. But not out of play...

Neal could partially see the fellow still writhing underneath the power of the ward. He was ignored by his brethren as they continued to enact mass-slaughter. Then, about a half-an-hour into the fray, The Captain felt the ground shaking. A new threat was imminent. Turning his head towards his companions, Neal cursed out loud when he realized what was coming. One of his escort-guard yelled out the name of the new threat and Neal could feel his hair standing on end...

"Spider Magi!" Yelled one of his fellows.

And doom came to them physically incarnate.

Despite his veteran status, Neal had never actually seen a Spider-Magi fight before. The legends were warnings in the minds of their prophets. Seeing them in action was an all together frightening prospect. Damn it, can this situation get any worse!? Neal thought to himself as he looked around the field around him. He'd drawn a sword made out of titanium and enchanted with wards. Neal dismounted from his horse and joined the ground skirmish occurring all around them. The survivors of his squad were a grim, determined lot and were whispering prayers to Lord Draconus. The air was rippling with magic power. Neal nodded to himself even as he felt something powerful slamming against his body. A terrible scent filled his nostrils, and he somehow knew. It's one of those bastard servants of N'Jal! Neal thought to himself as he was knocked off his feet.

Neal felt tremendous pain as the air was knocked out of his lungs, but instinct drove him now. He was fully armoured in a set of damascus armour, masterwork quality. The symbols on his armour were polished so that they shone brilliantly with ancient power. Neal felt his heart in his throat as he backhanded in an attempt to knock the creature off his body. Dead weight and pure muscle attempted to pin Neal down against the ground. When Neal opened his eyes he saw a powerful girl standing in front of him. She was a member of The Forsaken's race. A raven-haired vixen, the thing had gray skin and glowing red eyes. She was laughing at Neal. Scantily clad, Neal felt his loins stirring despite his best efforts to contain himself. Some part of him hungered for the well-endowed woman before him.

Clutching his weapon tightly, Neal could feel his hand shaking. The creature before him was mesmerizing. Well built on the most enticing aspects of female anatomy, the creature prepared to use her power against Neal. Neal saw that the robes she wore were see-through and revealed every aspect of her. A part of him regretted having to kill this handsome specimen. Neal could see the branding on her person, they were powerful symbols of N'Jal and they made The Captain cringe. Despite her beauty, Neal knew the creature was inherently evil. Neal ran towards the creature with his sword prepared for combat. He could see that seductive smile, as if the creature already understood Neal's fate long before The Captain ever could. When Neal was less then a few paces away from the creature, he lashed out with a potentially powerful blow. His blade was glowing with The Glorious Light.

He swung, but something happened. He saw her step backwards with a skillful and graceful maneuver. Releasing energy that she'd been storing the entire time, the girl fired a brilliant burst of shadow-elemental energy in the form of a darkness bolt. A sphere was conjured in the air which rippled about with terrible power. Shocked at what he was witnessing, Neal attempted to move out of the way. However, it was already too late. The Living Dark slammed against Neal knocking him backward once again. Neal could see the creature eternally grinning even as she moved towards him with that grace and beauty. Neal had to admire the efficiency of the maneuver. Pain burned through his body as The Living Dark cascaded around his form like some lecherous parasite.

"Get it off!" Neal found himself yelling, but nobody would come to his aide.

All around, his soldiers were locked in combat with The Frosaken, and nearby, the eyes of The Spider Magi watched the battle with tremendous interest. They lurked in the shadows, awaiting orders from the dreaded leader of this fell encampment. Lorenor. You bastard. I swear you will burn for this...a thousand deaths are not good enough for you! As The Living Dark coursed across his body, Neal found himself unable to move a single muscle. He cursed out loud trying to yell a command, something, anything. Neal's vision was becoming blurry as he felt powerful hands gripping his shoulders. The last thing he felt before he realized the full nature of the disaster, was his body being dragged through the mud towards a final destination...

Lorenor. You son of a bitch. I swear you will pay for this... Was the last thing he thought before he succumbed to The Living Dark's eternal power.

***

Several of the members of The Knights of Dawn were breaching the main force. Having received orders to use the power of The Glorious Light, The Knights of Dawn were wreaking havoc on the undead. Lorenor needed to get things under control quickly. The Spider Magi would not act unless N'Jal herself gave the order. In the meantime, they just felled anyone who came too close to their position that belonged to the opposition force. Lorenor swung his prevalida weapon to fend off any of the fellows that came too close to him, but they were playful strikes. The Raid had shifted into their favor hours earlier, however, the fact that The Knights wielded The Glorious Light made the situation exceedingly difficult. Having grown more powerful, Lorenor could withstand the pain of The Glorious Light for a time before he withered into dust. That time was often adequate enough to fell the enemy lashing out at him before they could cause serious damage.

Lorenor's weakness to The Glorious Light was a flaw that he constantly had to deal with. He had to be more clever than the enemy if he was to survive Raid situations like this one. A sword came at Lorenor. Lorenor saw the anger of youth that attacked him without knowing who Lorenor was. To these grunts, the mutant was another one of The Undead and that meant next to nothing to these bigots. Lorenor liked it that way. Let them assume I am ill more than just another Undead wretch. Let them assume that my people belong to Xem'Zund. That will be their undoing. Information was power, knowledge was strength, eternity was glorious. He had time to scheme, plot, and plan his revenge against The Knights of Dawn and it would be glorious. Lorenor wanted their leader alive. He would be key to unlocking the secrets of The Knights' powers.

The mutant parried the sword that came at him. He looked at the youth, staring right in his eyes. As the youth attacked, Lorenor waved off several other Undead who were prepared to attack the fellow that threatened the safety of their defacto leader.

"This one belongs to me." Lorenor called out.

Angered by what he had heard from the mutant, the youth danced with the servant of N'Jal. Lorenor carefully used a certain amount of his speed capacity to move toe-to-toe with the youth. Making it so that he was just one step above the youth, the mud was stirred as they danced about in beautiful circles. Assaults from the archers were temporarily paused as they were forced into the melee from rushing undead. It was glorious. A fine tribute to N'Jal. There will be many sacrifices today... In the name of N'Jal, horrors were wrought upon Althanas. Lorenor saw to it. The world became a blur as he lashed out against the youth before him. There was no need to show-off, there was only a need to scheme. As Lorenor danced, he waited, schemed, and plotted the downfall of the youth. It was in the nature of The Undead to corrupt the living. It was in their nature because the dead envied the living.

Finally, Lorenor's twisted mind had come up with an adequate scheme to throw the youth off guard. When the youth launched the next sequence of maneuvers, the mutant had already carefully observed the technique that the youth used. It was brilliant, it was the fighting style of Lord Draconus, a fighting style that Lorenor knew nothing about. However, Lorenor's powerful mind grasped the basics of the attacking style quickly and he observed weaknesses in the boy's technique. Weaknesses that were subtle. All fighting style were based upon the mind of the wielder and his body. Muscles grew tired, power had a limited access time, and many other factors limited humans. Undead were clearly the superior of the two. When Lorenor's mind analyzed the weaknesses of the fighting style, the mutant prepared a parry for the next set of maneuvers. Normally, Lorenor would use his preferred combat style, but for this situation, regular swordsmanship would suffice.

When the fellow struck at him with a fierce lunge, Lorenor was prepared. He could see the subtle reactions of the man's muscles as they prepared the maneuver and executed it. When the blade was about to connect, Lorenor took a quick step backward and swung with a powerful strike from a lower center of gravity, to a higher center of gravity. At the zenith of the strike, Lorenor felt a powerful impact. Cheating a bit, the mutant used a bit more strength that was needed to disarm the fellow. It worked. His scheme had worked. Satisfied that he had disarmed the youth, his sword went flying into the mud several paces away to the right. In the same motion, Lorenor pointed his sword at the man's neck. With a grin, the mutant knew what it was time for. It was time for the scheming. He savored those moments the most, when he could corrupt the hearts of men...

"There is no love in your strikes." Lorenor said, genuinely saddened by the lack of resolve in the youth. "I offer you a..."

An explosion suddenly burst through the air. Lorenor turned his attention away from the youth. All eyes that were not locked in other tasks turned towards the sudden sound. A powerful residue of magic touched the air. There was a plume of smoke and fire that rippled upwards into the sky from further off towards the West where the sound originated from. Ignoring the youth for the time being, Lorenor turned towards one of his closest guardians and prepared to give the necessary order. To complicate matters further, one of Lorenor's High Priestesses, a whore of N'Jal, brought an unexpected gift to the mutant. It was a the leader of the opposition force, she had managed to capture him all by herself. With a grin, Lorenor walked over to Nesav Rekeniro with a grin. He watched her drag the knocked out Captain through the mud. Lorenor looked at his compatriots. Then he looked at the enemy units, they were demoralized, weak, despite the nearby explosion.

"Grab him." He ordered his companions.

The nearest two grabbed The Captain and pulled him away from the sacred High Priestess.

Lorenor saw that she quickly moved to his person and he nodded to her.

"Stay close Nesav." He said to her, women of power were sacred in their society. That's when a scout suddenly came running to their position.

"Mi'lord! There's trouble...there is a larger force approaching, hundreds. I have not seen such a group before. Their banner is the same as these cretins!" The scout said.

Hundreds huh?

"Gentlemen, we have captured an Officer. Their morale is dropping, we can defeat them. Continue the slaughter...continue..."

And then it struck him. Flying across his chest was a guided missile weapon that forced him to fly across the ground backwards. Luckily, the projectile was not warded. However, the weapon's tip was made of the material known as plynt and easily tore through the simple robe that he wore and punctured his epidermis. Lorenor felt the mud slamming against his back and looked up at the sky. He was undead and had the anatomy of the undead, though he felt the tremendous pain of the piercing blow, he did not have the wind knocked out of his black lungs. He stared at the sky for a moment or two and knew he was vulnerable. That's when the explosion in the distance was followed by a loud warcry. Trumpets which signified a larger force ran towards the field and began to attempt to eliminate everything in their path.

Somehow, mounted soldiers cut a swath through the undead as unmounted soldiers engaged The Forsaken. Lorenor struggled against the projectile in his chest as he tried his best to remove it. He lost sight of it all. And in a moment, it seemed like the entire tide of battle had shifted in the favor of The Knights of Dawn. If Lorenor were standing, he would have seen that Neal Kargut escaped the bondage of the Undead, and managed to fight his way back towards his fellows. For a moment, Lorenor touched despair. But then, he heard a voice in the back of his mind. A powerful voice, a voice he was all too familiar with. Lorenor. My son. Let go of your conscious self and allow me a moment on The Firmanent... It was the voice of N'Jal. Lorenor, as a High Priest, obeyed N'Jal to the letter. Relaxing his grip on his mind, she slowly took over his body and began a series of events that would alter history forever...

[Silence Sei]

Both sides were suffering massive casualties. In the course of a couple of minutes, hundreds of beings had been struck down by blade and bite alike. Sei had managed to leave Tracer to wallowing in his own self-pity in order to go rescue Anita. Though Lorenor was much more focused on killing these bigots, Sei was more concerned about incapacitating them, and saving his daughter from the charging cavalry.

Once Sei had made it to Anita, he quickly wrapped his daughter up in an embrace, and made his way back to Tracer. Sei had been planning to get out of this town with the two of them before the whole place was in shambles. When Sei made it back to the pinnacle of the violence, however, he saw two things. The first was Tracer with his crossbow strapped back to his right arm. His sword was on the ground at his feet, and he was quickly shooting down Knights all around with his rapid fire weapon.

The second completely stunned the mute. Not ten feet away from Tracer was Lorenor. The vampire had his eyes closed, and an aura seemed to shape around the form of the mage. The forming visage remained see-through, though it seemed to be a completely different person overshadowing the body of the man Sei had met just today. Black hair flowed down to the back of the being, and black eyes seemed to open up, revealing to white to the orbs. A flowing black dress was reminiscent of Anita's own blue skirt, and reached down all the way to her bare feet. IT was a woman, but from the sincere feeling of fear Sei was getting in the pit of his stomach, he knew what the form was supposed to be.

N'Jal.

The girl brought up a pale hand, her black stained lips opened into a smile to reveal the two spider like canines on each side of her mouth. As she moved her hand across the board, the active Knights of Dawn began to call as if they had been hit with the last stages of a plague. Bodies writhed in pain and echoes and moans reached the very stars that night. N'Jal's power had been so great, she had wiped out hundreds, perhaps thousands, of knights with but a single gesture. The thought of her physical return made Sei cringe in fear.

Looking to Tracer, N'Jal began to shift her hand towards him upon seeing the crest. The Mystic acted quickly, diving in front of the man and shaking his head. "He wants no part of this anymore. You've claimed enough sacrifices, you can leave this one in my custody." N'Jal hissed a bit in response. The gall this telepath would have to deny her one last satisfying death.

"Very well, Sei Orlouge," the voice spoke, almost blowing up the orange haired warriors eardrums with the high pitched frequency of her tone. "Tracer shall live, for now. I leave him in your care, but he may never set foot in my Forgotten City ever again." Sei shifted his eyes to Lorenor who was 'talking' at the same time that N'Jal was. Truly, the priest was the very avatar of evil personified.

"I have a gift for you, Sei Orlouge. Something you need to take for your upcoming wars. Your sacrifices to me will be many, and it will please me greatly. I find myself compelled to let you stay in your form. For now. If only because my brothers and sisters would not accept you as a Spider Magi." Sei gulped hard, realizing that the basis for his dreams were true, he was supposed to be here as yet another boon for the Dark Lady.

Snapping her slender fingers, the bodies of the knights began to be wrapped in a think web like material. Anita and Tracer both covered their ears as the sounds of compacted bones rang throughout the battlefield. The blackest Thayne was crushing all of the webbed up racists, forming the web into one big ball of webbing that floated towards her. Taking one of her corporeal hands, N'Jal allowed the nail on her index finger to extend to the size of a long sword. Slicing the ball in half, the bones and blood of the fallen warriors gushed out and littered the area.

As the undead made their way to lap up N’Jal’s gift to them, the Dark Lady began to cut up the webs even further. When she had finished, it was clear what she had made, a vest of pure N'Jalian spider silk. She brought the armor over to Sei, the inside of the vest seemed to be coated with bones and blood, which made Tracer vomit from the sheer smell of it. Anita quickly followed suit.

"I give you this gift Sei Orlouge," N'Jal spoke once more, "the inner linings will protect you from the adhesiveness of the armament. Yet nobody will get to your upper body without making a sacrifice to me. Truly a fitting present for one such as you."

"Once such as I?"

"Oh, that's right," the painful voice spoke once more, "I forgot to tell you. You are the Champion of the Thaynes, Sei Orlouge." And with that, N'Jal had disappeared from around Lorenor's form, the floating vest in front of Sei dropping to the ground.

And Sei was left speechless as he looked to the Spider Magi that just transmitted the will of her Dark Lady.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

With that done, the followers of N'Jal knew peace in their city once more. The High Priest had such a complete connection with N'Jal, that he was capable of knowing what she knew, and feeling what she felt. It was a bonding the likes of which had only happened a few other times in Althanas' history, but with separate Thayne. Never N'Jal. No. Lorenor was truly a pioneer ushering a new era of Althanas history. As N'Jal faded back into Lorenor's black blood, the mutant returned from the place he vanished off into. Though through N'Jal, one could have vaguely seen the shadowy esper that Lorenor had become. A vile dark aura surrounded the mutant that was a residue of N'Jal's presence on The Firmanent. The Forsaken mourned their losses, but quickly reorganized their forces. Some of The Knights of Dawn were blessed to be turned into Forsaken that night and joined their brethren.

The Forsaken gathered around High Priest Lorenor. Something had happened that day, something extremely important. Prophets foretold that this day would come to Althanas. Lorenor's hand touched the ground as he knelt there before the presence of N'Jal that stirred in his body. Immediately, one of The Forsaken moved to The High Priest and wrapped his arms around the body of the man. With his strength, The Forsaken assisted Lorenor with the movement of standing. His body had not yet returned to normal, and a terrible power was coursing through it. Energy that was a residue coursed across his physical vessel. Lorenor's face was lowered for a few moments as he looked at the ground listening to the will of N'Jal. Lorenor, somehow, aged and looked older after the event. His hair had changed from black to platinum silver.

Staring at the ground for a couple of moments, the mutant paused. He was gathering himself. The fellow next to him, concerned, looked at The Master quite carefully.

"Mi'lord, are you well?" The Forsaken warrior asked of Lorenor.

"The dark lady commands us." Lorenor suddenly said as his strength returned to him. All who were close by listened and knelt before the High Priest. "As we art her vessels, so must we obey her decrees." Then, Lorenor stared at Sei Orlouge. "Chosen of The Thayne, you have gained the assistance of our lady. We shall offer you whatever resources you need in your quest. Should you ever wish to join our ranks directly, you would be welcome." Lorenor carefully said, adding the decree as N'Jal recited it to him. Then, Lorenor continued. "Sei Orlouge. What you have witnessed here today, be sure to tell the story to others." Without realizing it, Lorenor had gained a position of leadership in The Forsaken society. The boy who Lorenor had personally embraced walked over to the mutant and looked up at him.

"You keep what you kill." The youth said carefully.

It was then Lorenor realized what had happened. In one moment, N'Jal had chosen a King for her people. Through decisive leadership, respect and complete sacrifice for N'Jal, Lorenor had gained much. Most importantly he had gain the fear and admiration of an entire people. Whereas a Necromancer would dominate The Undead, Lorenor represented a far more dangerous option. Freeing The Undead from Necromancers, Lorenor would allow them to assert their own Will Power and join N'Jal's forces on their own. Lorenor was a wild card. Arguably, he had become one of the most dangerous men on Althanas.

Once, Lorenor had been terribly weak. Through cutting a bloody swath in history, the mutant had obtained the power he had longed for. Leaning against the fellow that assisted him, the realization of that moment hit home. Lorenor was now a King. When Lorenor heard the next few words of N'Jal whispered in his mind, she said a very specific thing to him. Kneel before me High Priest Lorenor. Rise. Grand Primus Lorenor! And the title was firmly placed on the shoulder of the mutant. Not desiring a crown of his own, Lorenor needed none. Instead, he immediately took the role he had so often taken in his life: the role of leadership. Lorenor looked at Sei Orlouge for a long moment and then smiled at him.

"Before I was a wretch. Now, I am Grand Primus Lorenor. First of many. A face amidst the chaos. A leader to those who would have none. You tellll them Sei. Tell them what has transpired here. And make the world of Althanas fear The Living Dark once more."

"The Third Age of Darkness is upon us."

Guiding his people, Lorenor left Sei to his own devices. He needed rest, he was tired, he was hungry. Age had come to him in one fell swoop. He was no longer the same Lorenor of old, but rather, an exceedingly more dangerous entity all together. As Lorenor walked back to the cathedral of N'Jal, his people followed. Together, they would pray to N'Jal, seek her guidance, and plan their next move. Together, they would shape a new face on Althans. And pity to all who stood in their way.

Fin.

****

~Spoils~

001-N'Jal's Embrace (Aesthetic/Quest Ability)-Though most undead that are free from Necromancers are typically servants of N'Jal, the dark lady has chosen her Herald on Althanas. That individual is Lorenor. As The Harald, Lorenor has a key genetic marker that allows for conditions to be right for the physical manifestation of N'Jal on The Firmanent. For a short time, N'Jal may act through her chosen High Priest when events demand her direct actions. Not having the same code as the rest of The Greater Thayne, N'Jal has no problem with destroying her enemies out right. As a Thayne, N'Jal wields terrible power to smite her foes. The act of summoning N'Jal is taxing on Lorenor and leaves The Herald extremely weak and vulnerable. While N'Jal is present, Lorenor's body vanishes subtly so that N'Jal may manifest on The Firmanent. N'Jal acts completely through Lorenor's body as she has, in essence, taken it over.

The Embrace is a willing one. This power is a purely aesthetic power and can -only- be done in Quests. Furthermore, it can -never- be used in a Battle situation -without- the consent of fellow Players. In Quest situations, the consent of all Players involved must be required in order for the use of the power. As a direct result of full contact with N'Jal, Lorenor has aged tremendously and his hair is no longer black, but silver. Lorenor -may- call N'Jal during sermons, as The Herald. To be fair, Lorenor can only summon N'Jal fully (As done in this thread) three times a day. Partially, (I.E. A hand, a face, etc) Lorenor can summon N'Jal five times a day.

Note: Lorenor is also known as The Herald of N'Jal.

002-Title of Grand Primus-As King of a deadly army, Lorenor is lord of nothing and everything at the same time. A King of beasts, Lorenor has seen through The Living Dark and it gazed back in the form of N'Jal. As her chosen Herald, Lorenor has gained the right and sole privilege of leading the free Undead people of Althanas. Those Undead not bound to a Necromancer can willingly join the ranks of N'Jal. With a leader, The Undead now begin to gather in the darkness of their hidden city. Grand Primus is a title equivalent to that of a King. Lorenor has all the rights and privileges as a King of The Undead and he can use those rights indiscriminately. Note: not everybody will recognize Lorenor as The Herald until they see him summon N'Jal. In which case there will still be those who do-not believe Lorenor to be who he says he is. The Grand Primus has ever only been chosen a few other times in Althanas history, but these powerful men have been cut down before their time. Hopefully, Lorenor will fair better.

Note: Lorenor is known as The Grand Primus to the NPC's under his care. It is quite possible that free Undead may exist without joining the ranks of N'Jal. If PC's don't want to acknowledge Lorenor's leadership, they don't have to. This is purely something for my own storylines unless people want to acknowledge that Lorenor is The Grand Primus.

[Silence Sei]

Sei, Anita, and tracer stood in the middle of what was now a pile of bodies surrounding them. The smell of rotting corpses came back as some of the less cult-like members of the city came out to feast on the succulent flesh of the recently deceased. Sei closed his eyes in horror, but that did not stop the squishing sounds of flesh being chewed between the canines of the undead creatures. He had not even heard Anita retching once more, the girl obviously not quick enough to avert her gaze to this new horror.

Lorenor's words fell heavy on the telepath. The Third Age of Darkness sounded like something the telepath would stop at all costs. Today, the mornings ally could be the enemy by dusk. Sei feared the thought of engaging Lorenor in combat, especially if N'Jal were to exert her will through the mutant once more. Sei opened his eyes, trying to see something that would temporarily relieve the Mystic of his fears.

He saw Anita wiping the bile from her mouth and the snot from her nose. Tracer was nearly in a fetal position, saying whatever prayers he had left to give. Sei placed a shoulder on the archer, whose eyes snapped open. Tracer let out a scream and stood straight up, backing away quickly before realizing that the hand had belonged to Sei. "Sorry....this is all just..."

"Incredibly nerve-wracking?" Sei's question came with a nod from the sniper. Turning back around, Sei picked up the vest N'Jal had laid at his feet just minutes ago. Anita blinked as she watched her father examine for what all intents and purposes seemed like a normal vest. "What are you going to do with that, Papa?" She asked, afraid she had already known the answer.

"It would be rude to deny a gift, even from one so endangering as N'Jal. I'll take it home with me and wear it when I need to. Thaynes only know when an extra layer of protection will mean the difference between life and death." Anita and Tracer both nodded, the girl finally attempting to drown out the sounds of bones crunching and moans echoing by humming a tune to herself. Tracer picked up on this and began to do the same.

"You're coming with us, Tracer, for rehabilitation," the mute spoke, causing his friend to blink in confusion, "I don't know what those knights did to you, but I'm making sure that they don't get their hands on you again. You will be better suited with my own Knights anyways." Tracer blinked again, confused as ever.

"You're raising another army, for what?"

Sei smiled as he began to walk off, Anita trailing behind and Tracer keeping in step with his friend. Sei tried to shake the horrid thoughts of what he had witnessed, the foresight of one day his fight with Lorenor for Althanas. For a few more moments, all would be back as it should have been, as Sei began his story.

"I think you need to learn about the Ixian Knights and their destiny, Tracer..."


((Spoils: Sei gets Tracer the sniper as a long-range projectile trainer for the Ixian Knights

Sei also gets N'Jal's Blessing, a N'Jalian spidersilk vest that Sei can will its ability to hold and release things. If someone were to pierce at Sei with a sword, the blade will go through, but be stuck in the spider silk until Sei wills it otherwise. The vests primary weakness is fire, and if it is exposed to it, the vest will become a conglomeration of bones and blesh (though incredibly weak bones and flesh) that provide a bit of protection, until Sei can find an N'Jalian Spider Magi to spin another silk layer to it. This vest also allows Sei to, at least temporarily, be on friendly terms with anything/one directly serving N'Jal))

[Taskmienster]

The Shadow of the Day :: I was asked to put light to no commentary for a condensed rubric. I’ll have this done rather quickly. If you have questions, feel free to ask me via PM or IM.

Story 16/30

Character 17/30

Writing Style 19/30

Wild Card 5/10

Score :: 57

Rewards
Lorenor :: 2,450 exp | 150 gold
((N’Jal’s Embrace is approved for use as you specified. Title of Grand Primus; as you said, but I’m clarifying, it can’t be used to control NPC’s that belong to another PC, or PC’s that are undead. Also, don’t use it to suddenly grab 100k undead for an army or anything. Must be used in moderation and large numbers of joining undead should be approved if you intend to use it in the future against Althanas, or against other PC’s in battles such as the Gisela or types of battles like that. Otherwise, approved))

Sei :: 2,735 exp | 0 gold
((I’ll approve Tracer. Also, approving the spidersilk vest, however I can’t allow it to grasp weapons or anything else, it also can’t be sold. Gold reduced for the reward.))

TheOrganism :: 286 exp | 25 gold
((No spoils requested))

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added.