by Ghadis_God Mon Dec 03, 2012 4:20 pmFor too long they had been sealed in the Abyss, immortals buried like corpses under the foul ash that lined the Chasm. For too long they had been forced to slumber; their hatred of the Gods chained, their bloodlust quenched. Until he came. Abel. Perhaps it was the scent of Kaathe the Tempter they smelled on him, perhaps it was the howl of madness that echoed through Oolacile; the howl of Primordial man.
Abel had sought an army, and what he roused in the dark corners of the Abyss sent a chill down even his spine. They were there waiting, thirty three score and six, flitting through the impermeable darkness as phantoms, blood red and translucent.
“The Orb” they whispered. “You have the Orb” “The Crimson Eye” “You serve the Serpent” “Friend” “The Orb”. Abel withdrew the orb from underneath his armor, holding it in the palm of his hand. It seemed to grow larger in the darkness, and the phantoms crowded around him. One by one they touched the orb, and each seemed to be drawn into its depths. Suddenly, the Orb blazed with a blinding red light, and went dark. A cacophony of laughter was heard in the distance; some high and shrill, some low and rich with menace, each filled with wicked intent. The darkness pressed in closer on Abel, and the laughter died abruptly. In the inscrutable blackness around Abel, a rumbling was heard, and the dank, sickly ash that floored the Chasm parted and fell away. Coffins, a countless number of them, sprang from the ash trailing chains and burst open, broken and rusted links clinking as they fell away from the splintered wood. From each coffin stepped an angel, as strong and terrible as the day they fell; save for the wings that were plucked from their backs.
Abadonna came forth to speak for them, throwing back her hood as she approached Abel. The long hair of the Angel of Death was as red as blood, and it glimmered in the light given off by her pale, sickly white face.
“A human that serves the Serpent.” Her voice seemed to come from a distance, cold and merciless. “Times have indeed chained since we fought the Gods and were imprisoned, a hundred thousand years in the past. I know what you have come to ask, human, and we are not ungrateful. You desire power. Our power.”
“Indeed.” Abel replied. “I freed you. You were bound once more to your bodies by my Orb. Now bind yourself to my word, my blade. Swear fealty to me, and we will destroy the fading gods and their allies. Dark shall swallow the earth.”
“Do you know why our war was fought, human? Do you know why our wings were plucked from our backs, why we have slept a hundred millennia under ash and dust? We are the angels who would not bow to humanity. To mortals. Think not that our long imprisonment has softened our feelings. We are not dogs who lick the hand of whatever mere mortal throws us a scrap of favor.”
“I am no mere mortal. I am the Dark Lord.”
“And what have you conquered, my Lord? Lordship needs authority, and authority needs strength, which needs first a weapon. Keep your titles. We are filled with nothing but hate, and a thirst for revenge. We are not your weapon, but Kaathe’s.”
“Kaathe works to seat me on the Dark Throne. He is no authority over me.”
“Are you so easily tricked by the toothy mouth of that snake? Take the throne on Earth, we want it not. Our throne shall be in the sky. We shall sit on the ruins of heaven, grinning with spite, laughing with the joy of revenge.”
“We are one in this desire, then, and my Wraiths are many and strong. The fading Light cannot stand against us both. Shall we fight together then, not as Lord and vassals, but as allies?” Abadonna scrutinized him.
“Many adventurers have trespassed on this most sacred dark” she finally replied. “This will not do. Manus is the cornerstone to the spread of the Abyss. It would be a sore loss indeed if he were to fall. This place must be purged, claimed for our own. From here we shall take Lordran.”
“My Darkstalkers are cleansing Oolacile. My best men are deep in battle; once we finish up there, this chasm is next.” Abadonna smiled, amused but joyless.
“We will take the Chasm. Go to the aid of your men; ours lust for blood and retribution. Not a soul will survive this purge. Then, we shall fight together.” Abel grinned wide. He turned, and as he walked slowly back to the light of the dying city, he laughed. The cruel sound echoed through the chasm; he had no doubt that his new allies could fail to paint it red with blood.
Abel had sought an army, and what he roused in the dark corners of the Abyss sent a chill down even his spine. They were there waiting, thirty three score and six, flitting through the impermeable darkness as phantoms, blood red and translucent.
“The Orb” they whispered. “You have the Orb” “The Crimson Eye” “You serve the Serpent” “Friend” “The Orb”. Abel withdrew the orb from underneath his armor, holding it in the palm of his hand. It seemed to grow larger in the darkness, and the phantoms crowded around him. One by one they touched the orb, and each seemed to be drawn into its depths. Suddenly, the Orb blazed with a blinding red light, and went dark. A cacophony of laughter was heard in the distance; some high and shrill, some low and rich with menace, each filled with wicked intent. The darkness pressed in closer on Abel, and the laughter died abruptly. In the inscrutable blackness around Abel, a rumbling was heard, and the dank, sickly ash that floored the Chasm parted and fell away. Coffins, a countless number of them, sprang from the ash trailing chains and burst open, broken and rusted links clinking as they fell away from the splintered wood. From each coffin stepped an angel, as strong and terrible as the day they fell; save for the wings that were plucked from their backs.
Abadonna came forth to speak for them, throwing back her hood as she approached Abel. The long hair of the Angel of Death was as red as blood, and it glimmered in the light given off by her pale, sickly white face.
“A human that serves the Serpent.” Her voice seemed to come from a distance, cold and merciless. “Times have indeed chained since we fought the Gods and were imprisoned, a hundred thousand years in the past. I know what you have come to ask, human, and we are not ungrateful. You desire power. Our power.”
“Indeed.” Abel replied. “I freed you. You were bound once more to your bodies by my Orb. Now bind yourself to my word, my blade. Swear fealty to me, and we will destroy the fading gods and their allies. Dark shall swallow the earth.”
“Do you know why our war was fought, human? Do you know why our wings were plucked from our backs, why we have slept a hundred millennia under ash and dust? We are the angels who would not bow to humanity. To mortals. Think not that our long imprisonment has softened our feelings. We are not dogs who lick the hand of whatever mere mortal throws us a scrap of favor.”
“I am no mere mortal. I am the Dark Lord.”
“And what have you conquered, my Lord? Lordship needs authority, and authority needs strength, which needs first a weapon. Keep your titles. We are filled with nothing but hate, and a thirst for revenge. We are not your weapon, but Kaathe’s.”
“Kaathe works to seat me on the Dark Throne. He is no authority over me.”
“Are you so easily tricked by the toothy mouth of that snake? Take the throne on Earth, we want it not. Our throne shall be in the sky. We shall sit on the ruins of heaven, grinning with spite, laughing with the joy of revenge.”
“We are one in this desire, then, and my Wraiths are many and strong. The fading Light cannot stand against us both. Shall we fight together then, not as Lord and vassals, but as allies?” Abadonna scrutinized him.
“Many adventurers have trespassed on this most sacred dark” she finally replied. “This will not do. Manus is the cornerstone to the spread of the Abyss. It would be a sore loss indeed if he were to fall. This place must be purged, claimed for our own. From here we shall take Lordran.”
“My Darkstalkers are cleansing Oolacile. My best men are deep in battle; once we finish up there, this chasm is next.” Abadonna smiled, amused but joyless.
“We will take the Chasm. Go to the aid of your men; ours lust for blood and retribution. Not a soul will survive this purge. Then, we shall fight together.” Abel grinned wide. He turned, and as he walked slowly back to the light of the dying city, he laughed. The cruel sound echoed through the chasm; he had no doubt that his new allies could fail to paint it red with blood.
Last edited by Ghadis_God on Mon Dec 03, 2012 8:44 pm; edited 2 times in total
the bastards on the bridge, COME AT ME! MY GREATBOW IS DRAWN, oh sorry - I didn't mean to knock you off... Well :Baal03: 
