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PostPosted: Jan 24th, '08, 23:08 
Twilight Council
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Joined: Nov 13th, '06, 13:41
Posts: 1249
Location: In ur base killin ur doods.
The Death of a Wraith King
Keldrin Mortanis
18/9

The day was long, dark and cold. An icy wind cut through the warmth of my robes as I stood in wait. The five vials had been collected; five vials, each representing an ancient hero, gathering them proved difficult, trust seems to be a great asset of the hero’s today. I stood within the embrace of the cemeteries walls, the gate barred closed with an iron bar to prevent divine intervention from the local priests and knights. Here, the wind was colder still, leaving a frosty bite in my skin, even when gusts where long since gone. I should have been alone, striving for my own survival; this fight was one of impending doom, yet another stood by my side. Un-phased by the “hideous changes” made to my body, this young girl stood through the bitter cold with a rosy tint in her cheeks, her eyes sparkling with a moist residue as the wind blustered into her eyes. She was a slim figure, though well proportioned and dressed from head to in casual, yet, almost foppish clothing with a blend of dark and light colours.

The vials were split between us. With the blood of the five and the lives of many clutched in the palm of our hands, we scattered the blood, drawing a sacred circle on the unhallowed ground and stood in wait, beckoning the spirit we sought; the dreaded wraith king. Hours passed and the irritating chill became more of a burn, chilling out skin to the very bone. All was silent. Not a sound could be heard, save for the constant groaning of the mindless dead treading around our proximity. Violent quakes of nerves shook through the girl as she stood before her deepest taboo, but she stood firm and brave, gazing out over the misty graveyard in wait. Neither of us had spoken to the other in a long while, yet here, now, we could not bring ourselves to talk. Instead, we stood silently as the hours passed by until, finally, as the bell tower struck no less than ten times, the spectral visage appeared before us, swirling with the mist, lighting the ground below it with its luminous eyes. The girl gasped, horrified at the sight of the creature and backed away from it, pressing herself against the cliffs face. It laughed mockingly as it loomed closer; the mist of the graveyard swirling with its ethereal presence, and then all was silent. Even the zombies had ceased their constant starved whines and moans. I raised my staff, pointing at the distant spectre and gazing with narrowed eyes.
“Wraith king! Your presence has too long haunted these lands, and too long have you forced me to act against my will, put my existence in danger and abused the sanctity I offered you! Your destructive ways end, here and now, by my will and by my life!” The words echoed through the hollow yard of the dead, through the crypts and caves that surround, and even into the plains to the north. It spoke back in an ethereal jaunt, its haunting voice lingering in the air, seeming to merge with the very wind itself. “My presence remainsss... Your offer is voiiid... Your will is nothing... But your life... Your life I will take!”

With this, the devilish creature charged faster than could be seen, slashing across the Pale Masters chest, leaving with it three, red, static lines, a torn robe, and three bleeding claw marks. The man wailed in pain, but soon tensed his body and span to face the wraith, conjuring a bolt of lightning into his right arm, which he tossed into the ethereal creature, to little effect. The static charge bounced around its outline for a moment, then disappeared.
“You taste better than you look, Pale Master.” It mocked, before charging once again, tearing another three cuts into the man’s chest and cheek, near knocking him to the ground. The girls heart picked up pace, pounding against her very chest as she watched over, terrified for the life of her companion, but unable to act, paralysed in shock against the cliffs face. Destiny brought her gaze down to her boot and consequently the weapon Keldrin had given her; the shimmering dagger. Slowly she pulled the weapon from its makeshift sheathe and held it out before her, twisting it in her grasp, before her graceful gaze made its way to the wraith.

The Pale Master extended his bone arm towards the creature and began to chant in a forgotten language, words which had not been heard in millennia, words which stung his very tongue as he chanted over and over again. The wraith paused and grasped its head, wailing with displeasure as whatever the man had cast hit home with a searing pain. It grasped its head, struggling through the air, edging closer and closer to the Pale Master, refusing to submit to his will. Both entities were in agonising strain as the wraith pushed its way within a few feet of the man, glaring eye to eye like a pair of brawlers. With a sudden outburst, the wraith slashed out once again with its vicious claws, slicing into the Pale Masters face, sending him hurtling to the ground.

“Fooool... You did not think you could control something as myself? You will burn for your incompetence!” The wraith placed a hand on the Pale Masters back, and began to drain its very essence, becoming more corporeal by the second as the man below it squirmed in pain, his skin becoming tighter around the bone, but as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The wraith howled with pain, spinning around to see the young girl wielding the pure silver blade, her face wielding the signs of anger and hatred. The ethereal creature growled and inched closer, pushing its misty face inches away from hers. With a tilt of its head, it spoke with the same wispy, hollow voice. “What is this? The girl wishes her life to end first? Mhmh, a shame too, such a pretty girl.” The mist swirling around the wraith formed the shape of a tongue and lapped along the length of the girls cheek, a dirty laughter filling the air shortly after, a laughter which was cut short by a look of surprise.

“Ancestors, I command the rift between worlds be opened!” A bright light filled the circle, beaming up into the very clouds, tearing the ghostly figure into nothingness, its dying cry lingering on the wind for a moment before dissipating along with its physical form. The ringing light beamed on, lighting the whole graveyard with its magnificent presence, slowly shrinking and dying, growing darker and darker as time went on, until it was nothing, and darkness once more crossed over the land. The Pale Master stepped forward taking the girls hand in his own, whilst the other slinked around her waist, pulling her into a hug, his chest heaving with the sheer pain of the wraiths strikes. The girl quietly rested her head on the man’s chest, dropping the dagger to the ground.
“I thought I’d lost you for a minute there, sir Keldrin.” Her voice was hushed and shaky, fear evident in her words. A lone tear crept across the girl’s cheek, falling and plummeting to the ground below them. “And you would have... Had you not been so brave.” The man gave one final squeeze of the girl, before breaking the hug, keeping her hand held between his own bony digits. “Now then... How about tea at the sunrise?” a small smile crept across the Pale Masters face, and the girl mimicked shortly after. “You should see a doctor, Sir.” A small pause of silence filled the air, lingering over the misty ground. Both smiles widened slightly and the Pale Master lowered his head, glancing over the wounds left on his body. “Perhaps ... Perhaps you are right.” 

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Never under estimate the power that language imparts. Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words can break hearts.

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