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MetalDrago
09-24-15, 03:01 PM
Wake up, my Champion... my Paladin, we have much work to do...

The voice echoed through the burial chamber hidden in the caves of Salvar’s northern border. The voice resonated with the stones, and caused them to begin humming. The cacophony was enough to awaken the dearly departed, or... well, the departed anyway. Candles slowly flickered to life as the black sarcophagus in the middle of the room slowly began to open.

A purple glow radiated from the darkness inside of the elaborate coffin as a hand clad in black armor snaked out from beneath the lid. With a loud growl of irritation, the stone façade was pushed unceremoniously to the ground. The creature within pulled himself from his resting place and looked around. A sniff of derision echoed through the chamber as he covered his mouth and swept the cobwebs from the air in front of him.

The creature standing in the middle of the cave stood roughly six feet in height, and was outfitted from neck to toe in a dull black armor with a blue dragon's eye insignia upon the middle of the chest plate. Clawed gauntlets covered his slender hands, and a mantle of silver hair flowed down to the center of his back. Pale orchid colored eyes gazed out upon the surroundings, showing signs of irritation but otherwise as calm as reflecting pool.

“They call this a tomb?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes and looked around the room. Most of his treasure was still here, and no robbers seemed to have made it, or those that did couldn’t make it back out, he noted as he observed a pile of human bones on the floor. He chuckled brightly at the condition that the bodies had been left in. Four years rotting in this hell, waiting for the opportunity to rise once more in the wake of the dark flood promising to spill forth.

“Being virtually immortal does have its perks, I suppose,” he muttered to himself as he stretched languidly, popping a number of joints in the process. He looked around the tomb for a moment, in hopes of seeing what had awoken him from his slumber. In seconds his eyes happened across a spider hanging from the ceiling.

Without a thought, the Dragonian knelt to the floor and bowed to the personification of his mistress, eyes held firmly on the ground beneath his feet.

“Dark Mistress, what can your humble Paladin do in your name?” he asked softly. He knew that she had been less than pleased with him of late, and his punishment had been to await further orders in a magically induced sleep until such time as he was needed.

Suffocating darkness filled the room as a voice resounded forth from everywhere, yet nowhere.

“You did not disappoint me in your efforts, my champion. You were merely being led astray. From this point forward you will receive your instructions directly from me. You will return to reform you Dark Dragon Corps, and you will be given the power that you desire as patronage for a job well done in my name. The world will be plunged into despair, light snuffed out as darkness reigns supreme.”

The Paladin listened to his mistress speak, wondering what the point was of reforming an army that had barely managed to perform any deeds of darkness in the wake of its founding, but held his mouth shut. He was sure that the Thayne would eventually make her true intentions known, when the time was ripe for the Dragonian to act upon them.

“The Curse on the Red Forest has been lifted, and with the lifting of the curse has come the arrival of many heroes in this world.” Soft laughter filled the air. “Those heroes need a villain worthy of their deeds, and you, my child, are going to fill that role.”

“Why me?” he couldn’t help but blurt out. While he had become much more powerful under N’Jal’s influence, he was far from being the most powerful of her followers. There were others, those who Drago had met many years ago, who had much more promise than he had shown.

“Because, my Paladin, you have something that many of them do not... Within you lies the soul of one of Draconus’s own, twisted and reformed in my image. What better irony than to have one that was previously his destroy what he has helped to defend? Besides,” She said, her voice smooth as velvet, “you have much potential, young one... much potential to do great things, and I would see you do so.”

At those words, the Paladin could only smile, rows of sharp teeth glinting in the darkness like cold steel.

MetalDrago
10-19-15, 08:53 PM
Blood-curdling screams erupted from the woman as the monster slowly pushed his hand through the gash in her chest. After only seconds, the scream was cut short as the hand quickly retracted. Arteries and veins snapped off as the heart was removed from the woman’s chest. Bright orchid colored eyes surveyed the situation around the being. Flames and smoke rose from the gutted remains of dozens of small buildings, dead bodies littered the ground around the beast.

A low chuckle erupted from his mouth as he gripped the heart tightly in his hand. With a low growl, he tossed it to the side and turned toward the other humans, still frozen in fear from the display they’d just seen. In mere moments, they began to run away from the creature they’d at first thought they were able to defeat through sheer numbers.

With a flick of his wrist, MetalDrago had a long mythril blade in his hand and was advancing upon the retreating party. He wrapped a single hand around the shoulder of the slowest member of the band and turned him around forcefully before he shoved his sword through the man’s stomach, eliciting a gasp of pain before he slumped over, coughing up blood on the black armor of the Dragonian standing before him.

The creature pushed the man roughly, allowing him to fall roughly to the ground before he took off toward the remainder of the fleeing crowd. With a horizontal swing, a nearly invisible wave of energy flew out of his blade and forward, and cut through the poor saps who’d had the nerve to face him upon his return to life.

A satisfied smile crept across his features as he turned away from the people, knowing that the wave had severed the spinal cords of each of them. If they weren’t dead, they were wishing they were.

“We’re back,” he whispered to the night air as he swung his blade. The blood splattered across the fresh white snow in a pattern resembling that of a spider. He turned back toward the fires and walked toward the dock. The fires slowly started to die as the Paladin searched through the water for a boat to pilot downriver.

“Should have asked them before I slaughtered the whole village, I guess,” he muttered under his breath. It had just been so exciting to finally be free from that infernal casket, he couldn’t contain himself. A sigh escaped his lips as he turned over the wall of one of the fallen huts. The charred remains of one of the humans was under it, clutching desperately to a glass bottle.

“What...” he said as he reached down and grabbed the bottle. It seemed to be little more than a bottle of ale. Strong ale, but not particularly worth one’s life. With a shrug, MetalDrago dropped the wall and went back to his search.