Post by Vandermast on Jun 27, 2004 18:17:53 GMT -8
Chapter One: The Coming[/b]
Introduction of Vandermast Darkshard
The night fell like a pestilance, devouring all before it in the embrace of ebon wings. The light of the moon died behind wicked, tumbling clouds that showed no end. The land was silent, as though it had fled with the coming of this palpable, seemingly sentient force. This void of earth was soon broken, as a soothing, graceful melody lifted into the air, caressing the summoned shadow with majestic melody, tearing away the clouds to reveal the radiance of the moon above. Heat broke through the canopy of the trees, soft sparks floating delicately through their limbs from the fire beneath. The single, lovely elven voice broke into numerous lovely elven voices -- and they seemed to illuminate the world more than the moon and the flames themselves. The song spoke of the purity of the soul, and the beauty of nature. The creatures of the forest came close to sleep under their gentle tune, and to watch the radiant elves dance gracefully about the sparking flames. The world was peaceful in slumber.
Then, suddenly, all the creatures of the forest seemed fearful -- their eyes wide with the terror of a child within the dark. They fled with haste and, the elves, sensing their torment, ceased their song and dance and looked about in confusion and fear. Many began to pray to Einhasad for blessing, while others mouthed words of arcane meaning, making certain they memorized the proper inflections. Others still unsheathed their blades, and stood close to the ones next to them. None knew what was to come. A sudden and forceful gail fueled the flames, which lit the empty forest in a chilling warmth. The screams became more profound as the fire died an explosive death -- showering a wall of sparks upon all, stinging eyes and flesh. The night rushed in like the wave of an angered sea, and the wind ceased as sudden as it had began -- bathing the world in shadow and silence. "Shhhhhhh," Mothers told their children, barely able to keep back their own rushing tears. "Shhhhhhhh..."
Like a pool of blackness within blackness, or night itself taken shape and form, a figure advanced upon the group -- footfalls as silent as the mouths of the dead. "Valis![/b]" one of the Tree Elves hissed, the crystal atop his staff flaring with a pale light. It extended to the feet of the advancing shadow, as though fearful to touch his corrupt form. The figure paused, seemingly hesitant to step into the threshold. Then, with a simple step, he moved forward into the light -- which dimmed at his presence. The robes were as black as the void itself, though silver cabalistic symbols stitched into the hood and hem glittered dangerously. His cowl was empty, as though open to oblivion, and his slender hands were folded before him, as if in prayer. The elves looked upon him in terror, as though he were the physical manifestation of Gran Kain himself.
Fire danced around the magi, as they spoke their incantations -- the bolts of flame were sent angrily toward the intruder. "Iss'sith![/b][/color]" A slender hand was raised in defense, and the rolling balls of magical fire burst to sparks as they ignited upon a flickering shield of dark energy. The figure said nothing as he slowly thrust his hands into the volumious sleeves of his robes. His hooded head inclined ever-so-slightly, and eyes of burning azure lit the confines of the cowl with a icy hue. High cheekbones made him look cruel, though his beauty was angelic. His lips were thin, ashen, as was his flesh -- almost gray in the light of his searing eyes. Bitter vipers of white hair fell before his eyes, giving him a wolfish gleam, as his thin lips twisted into a mockery of a smile.
The Dark Wanderer made a slight, dismissive gesture. All around him shadows stood from the ground, hooded and cloaked as he. The Exiled began a dark and violent chant which stung the eyes and hearts of those who heard it. "Xirah versis draszith-uss sess'sseth![/b]" Arrows whistled into the flesh of fighter, of mage, and of innocent child -- even as dark balls of energy ate at skin and bone. As the sound of suffering filled the air, the cruel clouds above threw down bolts of lightning that were like sheets of black flame. "Domu vera-z'ress![/b][/color]"Shadowed figures fell from the limbs above the camp, thrusting daggers deep as they landed like predatory cats upon their enemies. Blood and charred flesh soon littered the once happy camp.
The Dark Wanderer had remained still during the onslaught, but now his robes whispered about his ankles. He stood over the whimpering form of a child, who looked up with pitiful, wide eyes. Vandermast's lips pulled back into a eerily soothing smile. "May Kain take you,[/color]" he spoke, his voice a venomous, emotionless hiss. From his sleeves he pulled a wicked, envenomed blade he had named the Deathbite. A single, swift swipe beneath the chin spilled the contents of the child's throat -- and he gurgled his dying prayers, and spilled his fluids upon the soil moist already with blood. The animals mourned as those who would come to be known as the Dark Elves ran into the night from whence they came.
Introduction of Vandermast Darkshard
The night fell like a pestilance, devouring all before it in the embrace of ebon wings. The light of the moon died behind wicked, tumbling clouds that showed no end. The land was silent, as though it had fled with the coming of this palpable, seemingly sentient force. This void of earth was soon broken, as a soothing, graceful melody lifted into the air, caressing the summoned shadow with majestic melody, tearing away the clouds to reveal the radiance of the moon above. Heat broke through the canopy of the trees, soft sparks floating delicately through their limbs from the fire beneath. The single, lovely elven voice broke into numerous lovely elven voices -- and they seemed to illuminate the world more than the moon and the flames themselves. The song spoke of the purity of the soul, and the beauty of nature. The creatures of the forest came close to sleep under their gentle tune, and to watch the radiant elves dance gracefully about the sparking flames. The world was peaceful in slumber.
Then, suddenly, all the creatures of the forest seemed fearful -- their eyes wide with the terror of a child within the dark. They fled with haste and, the elves, sensing their torment, ceased their song and dance and looked about in confusion and fear. Many began to pray to Einhasad for blessing, while others mouthed words of arcane meaning, making certain they memorized the proper inflections. Others still unsheathed their blades, and stood close to the ones next to them. None knew what was to come. A sudden and forceful gail fueled the flames, which lit the empty forest in a chilling warmth. The screams became more profound as the fire died an explosive death -- showering a wall of sparks upon all, stinging eyes and flesh. The night rushed in like the wave of an angered sea, and the wind ceased as sudden as it had began -- bathing the world in shadow and silence. "Shhhhhhh," Mothers told their children, barely able to keep back their own rushing tears. "Shhhhhhhh..."
Like a pool of blackness within blackness, or night itself taken shape and form, a figure advanced upon the group -- footfalls as silent as the mouths of the dead. "Valis![/b]" one of the Tree Elves hissed, the crystal atop his staff flaring with a pale light. It extended to the feet of the advancing shadow, as though fearful to touch his corrupt form. The figure paused, seemingly hesitant to step into the threshold. Then, with a simple step, he moved forward into the light -- which dimmed at his presence. The robes were as black as the void itself, though silver cabalistic symbols stitched into the hood and hem glittered dangerously. His cowl was empty, as though open to oblivion, and his slender hands were folded before him, as if in prayer. The elves looked upon him in terror, as though he were the physical manifestation of Gran Kain himself.
Fire danced around the magi, as they spoke their incantations -- the bolts of flame were sent angrily toward the intruder. "Iss'sith![/b][/color]" A slender hand was raised in defense, and the rolling balls of magical fire burst to sparks as they ignited upon a flickering shield of dark energy. The figure said nothing as he slowly thrust his hands into the volumious sleeves of his robes. His hooded head inclined ever-so-slightly, and eyes of burning azure lit the confines of the cowl with a icy hue. High cheekbones made him look cruel, though his beauty was angelic. His lips were thin, ashen, as was his flesh -- almost gray in the light of his searing eyes. Bitter vipers of white hair fell before his eyes, giving him a wolfish gleam, as his thin lips twisted into a mockery of a smile.
The Dark Wanderer made a slight, dismissive gesture. All around him shadows stood from the ground, hooded and cloaked as he. The Exiled began a dark and violent chant which stung the eyes and hearts of those who heard it. "Xirah versis draszith-uss sess'sseth![/b]" Arrows whistled into the flesh of fighter, of mage, and of innocent child -- even as dark balls of energy ate at skin and bone. As the sound of suffering filled the air, the cruel clouds above threw down bolts of lightning that were like sheets of black flame. "Domu vera-z'ress![/b][/color]"Shadowed figures fell from the limbs above the camp, thrusting daggers deep as they landed like predatory cats upon their enemies. Blood and charred flesh soon littered the once happy camp.
The Dark Wanderer had remained still during the onslaught, but now his robes whispered about his ankles. He stood over the whimpering form of a child, who looked up with pitiful, wide eyes. Vandermast's lips pulled back into a eerily soothing smile. "May Kain take you,[/color]" he spoke, his voice a venomous, emotionless hiss. From his sleeves he pulled a wicked, envenomed blade he had named the Deathbite. A single, swift swipe beneath the chin spilled the contents of the child's throat -- and he gurgled his dying prayers, and spilled his fluids upon the soil moist already with blood. The animals mourned as those who would come to be known as the Dark Elves ran into the night from whence they came.