Weeks had passed since Leon's assault on the city of Meridian. Storm clouds still lingered in the air, the crackles of sky-bound lightning spread far and wide. Gloamwood had begun to expand unexpectedly in every direction. Great beasts stalked the deadened forests. Though not truly dead, large Gulfs and Gheists took refuge in the expanded borders. Beasts of terror. Where they came from exactly was unknown, be it through a rift or other means. An eerie, supernatural aura encompassed the land of Gloamwood, ghastly and treacherous to its core. Leon did not worry about whether or not the creatures would go out of control. Their interest lay in the living. If his apostles ventured into the woods obliviously it would be their own fault when they were eaten. The strong would survive. No more would the weak be coddled. A clear, cold truth continued to be imposed among the realm. Telara was changing.
There was much to be done.
Contrary to what Leon expected, everything became more complicated as and when he rose to power. Tasks stacked up quickly. Though Leon did not want to accept it, the truth remained that he could not complete his conquest on his own. Armies high in number were required. Reanimated generals and commanders stood at the necromancer's side, some were even his advisers. While the dead were infinitely easier to control than the living, it was inevitable that smaller forms of semi-government be established within Leon's expanding borders. He couldn't be bothered with the management of every single province. Forces had to be allocated in a strategic manner to ensure the highest probability of success. Treasuries had to be stocked. Structures had to be built both large and small. Not only did the military have to be maintained, but the labor force as well. The Mannus estate constantly grew as workers both living and dead toiled tirelessly on it. Walls and ramparts were constructed, borders within borders. A thorough hierarchy slowly came into view. It was necessary to have smaller lords to divide attention. All that mattered was that they understand who their true ruler was. To defy rule meant death. No being underneath Leon was safe from that, a point he made scarily clear. Responsibility wasn't what tired Leon. His source was otherworldly.
Sleep was difficult to come by in the recent days. In the seldom times when Leon did embrace slumber he was greeted by hauntings of his past. The very thing he tried so desperately to break away from never left him completely. Closely it clung, like a woven tapestry across the entirety of his subconsciousness. Rumors began to spread among the cohorts and beings under Leon, exaggerated stories that even he wasn't among the living anymore. More than likely it was due to how rarely Leon ate and even more rarely when others witnessed him in the act. He didn't seem living anymore. Unrest didn't grow due to the false allegations, but the complete opposite. Many saw fit for the dead to lead the dead. Twisted as Leon was, the imaginative could at least categorize him as something else. Other fanatics and cultists perceived Leon as a being who had transcended such sentient limitations. They prayed to him. They made sacrifices for him. They killed for him. The idea of their ruler as a transient was all-too intoxicating. What better to invest ones faith in than a godlike figure that existed in the flesh? Leon neither confirmed nor denied the inspirations his followers concocted among themselves.
The master necromancer longed to feel well again. Constantly he was torn between a sensation of complete power and utter exhaustion. Tired he was, though sleep seemed to make him no better. With every day passed the blackened scar pulled at Leon's life force hungrily, unable to be sated even temporarily. Deep in his chambers, Leon's fingers touched at the calamity that continued to slowly spread along his face. While the scar made Leon a conduit for the chaotic energies of the warp, the blemish was a double-edged sword. The most alarming fact was that Leon possessed no knowledge on how to remove the chaos link. It had been part of his being ever since he obliviously opened a gateway to the warp in Ironpine Peaks. A slow, downward spiral wrenched Leon from the righteous life he had lived and threw him into darkness. By now Leon had no choice but to accept its presence upon him. There was a vain hope that he would be able to establish harmony with the parasite. The smarter side of Leon knew such a notion was inconceivable. Leon was a vessel, nothing more, nothing less.
The presence of undead within Leon's estate had increased exponentially. Royal skeleton guards stood at every doorway, armored, with fiery eyes akin to the braziers in their sullen sockets. Specters shambled about, some with purpose, some without. Powerful liches pooled together to amass their magic. Scholars even in their undead state, they never ceased their thirst for knowledge. It was because of the liches that a massive library was under construction within the confines of Moonshade, close to the Mannus fortress. They were skillful users both in magic and melee, some were even Kings before the end of their living days. Ancient texts were brought in far and wide, already compiled in the half-built library. Leon did not want to abstain his followers from knowledge and power. To be strong was a necessity. It was inevitable that the weak perish. Pfifer had been much more of a reader than he, at least after his fall from grace. A tunnel-visioned need for revenge had led the necromancer astray and it would behoove him to delve deep back into the rewarding knowledge of magic. When the library's structure was complete he would put aside time to visit it. A chance to rekindle that cloudy mind of his.
The present was but a brief taste of what the future had in store. It would get easier and harder at the same time. Leon did not expect Pfifer to return to him. Even if she did it wouldn't be a good way that she perceived him while in his maddened state. In time she might possess more of Leon's actual form than even he himself. Even in the off chance that Pfifer did make her way back to him there was no guarantee the ritual could be enacted a second time. Leon sometimes pondered if he folded the wrong cards.
For now he had to steel himself, lest he be fully taken by the corruption of Chaos.
There was much to be done.
Contrary to what Leon expected, everything became more complicated as and when he rose to power. Tasks stacked up quickly. Though Leon did not want to accept it, the truth remained that he could not complete his conquest on his own. Armies high in number were required. Reanimated generals and commanders stood at the necromancer's side, some were even his advisers. While the dead were infinitely easier to control than the living, it was inevitable that smaller forms of semi-government be established within Leon's expanding borders. He couldn't be bothered with the management of every single province. Forces had to be allocated in a strategic manner to ensure the highest probability of success. Treasuries had to be stocked. Structures had to be built both large and small. Not only did the military have to be maintained, but the labor force as well. The Mannus estate constantly grew as workers both living and dead toiled tirelessly on it. Walls and ramparts were constructed, borders within borders. A thorough hierarchy slowly came into view. It was necessary to have smaller lords to divide attention. All that mattered was that they understand who their true ruler was. To defy rule meant death. No being underneath Leon was safe from that, a point he made scarily clear. Responsibility wasn't what tired Leon. His source was otherworldly.
Sleep was difficult to come by in the recent days. In the seldom times when Leon did embrace slumber he was greeted by hauntings of his past. The very thing he tried so desperately to break away from never left him completely. Closely it clung, like a woven tapestry across the entirety of his subconsciousness. Rumors began to spread among the cohorts and beings under Leon, exaggerated stories that even he wasn't among the living anymore. More than likely it was due to how rarely Leon ate and even more rarely when others witnessed him in the act. He didn't seem living anymore. Unrest didn't grow due to the false allegations, but the complete opposite. Many saw fit for the dead to lead the dead. Twisted as Leon was, the imaginative could at least categorize him as something else. Other fanatics and cultists perceived Leon as a being who had transcended such sentient limitations. They prayed to him. They made sacrifices for him. They killed for him. The idea of their ruler as a transient was all-too intoxicating. What better to invest ones faith in than a godlike figure that existed in the flesh? Leon neither confirmed nor denied the inspirations his followers concocted among themselves.
The master necromancer longed to feel well again. Constantly he was torn between a sensation of complete power and utter exhaustion. Tired he was, though sleep seemed to make him no better. With every day passed the blackened scar pulled at Leon's life force hungrily, unable to be sated even temporarily. Deep in his chambers, Leon's fingers touched at the calamity that continued to slowly spread along his face. While the scar made Leon a conduit for the chaotic energies of the warp, the blemish was a double-edged sword. The most alarming fact was that Leon possessed no knowledge on how to remove the chaos link. It had been part of his being ever since he obliviously opened a gateway to the warp in Ironpine Peaks. A slow, downward spiral wrenched Leon from the righteous life he had lived and threw him into darkness. By now Leon had no choice but to accept its presence upon him. There was a vain hope that he would be able to establish harmony with the parasite. The smarter side of Leon knew such a notion was inconceivable. Leon was a vessel, nothing more, nothing less.
The presence of undead within Leon's estate had increased exponentially. Royal skeleton guards stood at every doorway, armored, with fiery eyes akin to the braziers in their sullen sockets. Specters shambled about, some with purpose, some without. Powerful liches pooled together to amass their magic. Scholars even in their undead state, they never ceased their thirst for knowledge. It was because of the liches that a massive library was under construction within the confines of Moonshade, close to the Mannus fortress. They were skillful users both in magic and melee, some were even Kings before the end of their living days. Ancient texts were brought in far and wide, already compiled in the half-built library. Leon did not want to abstain his followers from knowledge and power. To be strong was a necessity. It was inevitable that the weak perish. Pfifer had been much more of a reader than he, at least after his fall from grace. A tunnel-visioned need for revenge had led the necromancer astray and it would behoove him to delve deep back into the rewarding knowledge of magic. When the library's structure was complete he would put aside time to visit it. A chance to rekindle that cloudy mind of his.
The present was but a brief taste of what the future had in store. It would get easier and harder at the same time. Leon did not expect Pfifer to return to him. Even if she did it wouldn't be a good way that she perceived him while in his maddened state. In time she might possess more of Leon's actual form than even he himself. Even in the off chance that Pfifer did make her way back to him there was no guarantee the ritual could be enacted a second time. Leon sometimes pondered if he folded the wrong cards.
For now he had to steel himself, lest he be fully taken by the corruption of Chaos.
Forever?
Oh, my darling,
If only you could see what war has done to me.
Oh, my darling,
If only you could see what war has done to me.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
The Chronicles - by deific - 07-21-2016, 07:53 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 07-23-2016, 12:47 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 07-23-2016, 04:00 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 07-24-2016, 06:45 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 07-25-2016, 12:48 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 07-25-2016, 12:58 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 07-26-2016, 01:09 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 07-30-2016, 04:08 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 08-06-2016, 12:41 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 08-09-2016, 08:56 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 08-10-2016, 08:44 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 08-11-2016, 01:02 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 09-01-2016, 05:43 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 10-03-2016, 11:11 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 10-03-2016, 01:47 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 10-08-2016, 03:03 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 10-08-2016, 09:23 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 10-11-2016, 01:21 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 10-17-2016, 04:15 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 10-31-2016, 05:27 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 02-15-2017, 08:33 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 05-13-2017, 03:35 PM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 05-26-2017, 05:55 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 05-26-2017, 07:01 AM
RE: The Chronicles - by deific - 06-10-2017, 12:37 PM