Mutant_Lorenor
11-27-10, 10:32 AM
Stepping outside to the main square of The Forsaken's capitol city, Lorenor looked at the gathered people before him. In Corone, Lorenor's activities were increasing as he had gathered the heart necessary to do N'Jal's work. It was a November night like any other. Chill was in the air, and a small breeze was about. Lorenor's Salvarn cloak was wrapped tightly about his person. He looked at The High Priestess who was his life-long partner. He smiled at her, and she returned the expression of kindness to her Master. There were no preparations to march, this was just a simple afternoon where The Undead could know peace. Lorenor had provided Undead with free will a safe haven on Althanas. A safe haven that was rapidly expanding where all other nations knew the ravages of war.
People with dark inclinations were drawn to the army of The Dark Lady. So in a few short months, the army had grown and prospered. Lorenor's raid on Corone had provided a rudimentary series of rewards and payments for those who remained loyal to his cause. Lorenor was not naive, and he was not a fool, he worked with all The Forsaken where he could. However, he knew that some of them would eventually decide their own path which had naught to do with The Dark Lady's schemes. That was fine to The High Priest. He was attempted to free as many Undead as he could from the vile grasp of Necromancers.
Lorenor walked forward to the center of the gathered group. As he stood there, he observed in silence. His eyes carefully examining every detail of the beautiful dead before him. There was great admiration in the eyes of his people for Lorenor had lead them to prosperity where once they were the doormats of Althanas. Xem'Zund had seen to that with his burning crusade across Raiaera. Lorenor was The Grand Primus now, and he'd grown incredibly powerful. He oft had to hide his strength from enemies, because he never wanted to tip his hand or force his hand too quickly. As a sadomasochist, Lorenor believed in enjoying the kill. Relishing in the suffering it would cause, and ultimately, finding release from the pain of Undeath.
Lorenor's endurance had grown significantly and he was now able to withstand a great deal of pain and agony to his physique. As he thought of that, his eyes wandered back to the crowd gathered before him. There was a peaceful silence that Lorenor enjoyed for a while longer before someone interrupted that silence. It was one of his Forsaken; a relatively young Undead by the name of Winters Solomon. The youth had proven an asset time and time again in many of the skirmishes and battles that The Forsaken faced.
"Master Lorenor, what is troubling you?" Winters asked. "Is there something that requires our assistance?"
"Ah." Lorenor stopped walking just then and turned to face his people. "You read me too well my friend." He grinned at the thought.
"The sermons I gave earlier, what thought you of them?" Lorenor asked plainly.
"They were a comfort in these dark days we face." Winters said thoughtfully. In all, there were roughly twenty Forsaken gathered around The High Priest. "I admire your capacity for leadership." Winters said thoughtfully. "You have been through things I cannot imagine."
"We have many enemies." Lorenor began. "But we also have many powerful allies. Including, our Matron. N'Jal." Lorenor tapped his chin thoughtfully. "In this we must always be greatful." Lorenor continued.
"As Forsaken, we will all face trials and tribulations in our days, but they will not become our darkest hour. That has yet to arrive. When we will be tested as a society..." Lorenor said carefully. "...Our enemies will rise against us. N'Jal has revealed this to me. But we will triumph in the end."
Winters nodded carefully. "My liege, we have a new acquisition. his name is Wynken Vanaril. He came to us about a month ago..." Winters said.
"I know of the lad's antics. Send for him Mr. Solomon. I wish to speak with him about a matter."
And as always, that's how it always began.
It began with a word.
People with dark inclinations were drawn to the army of The Dark Lady. So in a few short months, the army had grown and prospered. Lorenor's raid on Corone had provided a rudimentary series of rewards and payments for those who remained loyal to his cause. Lorenor was not naive, and he was not a fool, he worked with all The Forsaken where he could. However, he knew that some of them would eventually decide their own path which had naught to do with The Dark Lady's schemes. That was fine to The High Priest. He was attempted to free as many Undead as he could from the vile grasp of Necromancers.
Lorenor walked forward to the center of the gathered group. As he stood there, he observed in silence. His eyes carefully examining every detail of the beautiful dead before him. There was great admiration in the eyes of his people for Lorenor had lead them to prosperity where once they were the doormats of Althanas. Xem'Zund had seen to that with his burning crusade across Raiaera. Lorenor was The Grand Primus now, and he'd grown incredibly powerful. He oft had to hide his strength from enemies, because he never wanted to tip his hand or force his hand too quickly. As a sadomasochist, Lorenor believed in enjoying the kill. Relishing in the suffering it would cause, and ultimately, finding release from the pain of Undeath.
Lorenor's endurance had grown significantly and he was now able to withstand a great deal of pain and agony to his physique. As he thought of that, his eyes wandered back to the crowd gathered before him. There was a peaceful silence that Lorenor enjoyed for a while longer before someone interrupted that silence. It was one of his Forsaken; a relatively young Undead by the name of Winters Solomon. The youth had proven an asset time and time again in many of the skirmishes and battles that The Forsaken faced.
"Master Lorenor, what is troubling you?" Winters asked. "Is there something that requires our assistance?"
"Ah." Lorenor stopped walking just then and turned to face his people. "You read me too well my friend." He grinned at the thought.
"The sermons I gave earlier, what thought you of them?" Lorenor asked plainly.
"They were a comfort in these dark days we face." Winters said thoughtfully. In all, there were roughly twenty Forsaken gathered around The High Priest. "I admire your capacity for leadership." Winters said thoughtfully. "You have been through things I cannot imagine."
"We have many enemies." Lorenor began. "But we also have many powerful allies. Including, our Matron. N'Jal." Lorenor tapped his chin thoughtfully. "In this we must always be greatful." Lorenor continued.
"As Forsaken, we will all face trials and tribulations in our days, but they will not become our darkest hour. That has yet to arrive. When we will be tested as a society..." Lorenor said carefully. "...Our enemies will rise against us. N'Jal has revealed this to me. But we will triumph in the end."
Winters nodded carefully. "My liege, we have a new acquisition. his name is Wynken Vanaril. He came to us about a month ago..." Winters said.
"I know of the lad's antics. Send for him Mr. Solomon. I wish to speak with him about a matter."
And as always, that's how it always began.
It began with a word.