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Necronas 06-06-2010 08:44 AM

Beautiful Nightmare [RP]
It was as if a hundred gods had found one way or another to push their petty insecurities upon their children, throwing storm after storm in an attempt to downplay their petty tragedies. Whether or not the gods had succeeded in their bullying nobody could tell, for the unremitting fusillade was either a sign that they had yet to satisfy their egos or that they had grown too fond of tormenting their children.

It is within this forsaken world that you, my friend, have the misfortune of being born, for only within the embrace of others that those already cursed find solace, and what better way to purge the interminable torment than through the primal dance? It is from that dance that you were spawned, from that selfish matrimony that came to pass the new arrival, to suffer the slings and arrows of your own fate rather than to remain within the blissful solitude of nonexistence. Perhaps that was why they called it a sin.

Now the echoes of reality haunt you in every waking moment. Even asleep, few can dream so well as to keep the needles and daggers at bay. But now is your chance, child, to thrive instead of suffer. To find purpose, meaning. It is not given to you by an apathetic god; it is a truth that you must discover yourself. The question, of course, is whether or not you are bold enough to want it. Will you live your life in the safety of ignorance, or stand in the illuminating rays of knowledge, knowing full well that they could drive you into madness?

This is your choice.
This is your beautiful nightmare.

Necronas 06-06-2010 11:33 AM

Something had happened. Something long ago. At the time it seemed like little more than an inconsequential spell, no flash, no bang, no minion rising from the ground, no screams of unending pain. The text was barely intelligible, written in some obscure, ancient language. The memories, however, had remained. The words remained unfamiliar, yet somehow, he could understand them now.

The seer mouthed the words as they made sense to him. “Rise…as the flame…towards… the heavens…and tear…your children…to show them…your love.” Even the translation seemed vague, until– no. No, no, no, no. He did this, and now he had to correct it. Why the impulsive young storm lord decided the best way to test a spell was to cast it was beyond him, but the potential repercussions were endless. One thing was for sure; this was divine magic, not arcane. But which plane it called on, Necronas could not identify.

Necronas did not sleep by conventional methods. He entered a trance, in which his subconscious was programmed to protect itself if trouble arrived. Naturally, the condition was a result of the lich’s paranoia concerning ambushes, but the spell had its advantages away from the battlefield as well. The lich had been levitating, since his stormy dreams had thrown him off the bed long before, and now, as eyes opened, he fell flat on the floor, his head ringing from the pain, yet he ignored it, picking himself up. There were more important things to attend to than his physical body. “Q…” he said, “Q, get up. We need to move.”

QTChi 06-08-2010 10:33 PM

The Nightmares
If there was anything the lass wished she could forget, t’was dying.

She sat upright with her eyes wide open, yet unseeing in the shadows that played before them. Her thoughts were far away from where her body was; memories reliving the distant voices that whispered in her head and the pain that engulfed her entire body. How many nights had the young necromancer laid there, unwilling to close her eyes, lest the nightmares haunted her once more? How many days have she looked at her hideous reflection within the mirror and desperately wished she was alive again?

As she sought to ease her mind of the voices and still it of the racing thoughts - the memory of pain reared forward, just like every night...

Many claimed pain was like a lick of fire, a burning sensation that left one screaming and immobile. Indeed, many soldiers upon the battlefield suffered from injuries, and were nursed back to health with little hope - their bodies sweating profusely and their blood boiling in the high temperatures of some infectious fever. When they recovered, many agreed their wounds healed with an itching sensations of one being burned; sometimes it left a mark behind, and other times their wounds would fade and disappear, leaving only the owner to a slight tingling in their minds…

…but that wasn’t Death.

As she continued to dream, the lass slowly drew in a deep breath and released it - the air chilling and rising in a plume of white smoke. Death was nothing like any man had mentioned - for those who lived to tell the tale of a white light gleaming at the end of a tunnel, was merely talking of their own hallucinations of their soul heading back towards their own body. Fire, was the very essence of life. It can cause pain - but it also brought warmth and substance to a human. Much like a grassy wastelands after a wildfire; the unhealthy bits of the ground is burnt away, leaving behind rich nutrients that encouraged new life…

Indeed, death was anything but fire…

Her hands bunched by her side, tightening around the coverings over her stiff form. In her mind, the girl recalled the last moments where her heartbeat began to fade and her soul was screaming within her mind. Death was as if Hades had opened up the gates of Hell and unleashed it’s anger upon her... and Hell was a cold and cruel place. As she laid there, helpless and alone, she remembered the cold wandering tendrils that suddenly seized her toes, making her shudder upon her deathbed. It continued to travel up her legs, slowly and painfully, the ice burning through her body harsher then any flame could ever do - making the lass scream silently into the unyielding darkness - squeezing the last drop of breath from her stiffening body… There was no heat of flames, threatening to consume her - there was only the bitter darkness that crushed against her heart, fear making the beats run faster and faster. In Hell, there was no fiery consumption, but everlasting wintriness of silence where one cannot even hear their own screams of terror.

The lass could remember the moment where she couldnae hold on any longer, when she finally decided to let go to the very soul trying to stay within her body… that was when a shadow fell over her and the grand master’s voice broke the silence… chanting…

”Q…” He chanted, and the girl shuddered once from where she sat. ”Q, get up. We need to move…”

Move where? How can I move? She wondered, as she laid within the table of her nightmares, dying.

A noise broke her reverie, and Qtchi blinked, immediately dragged back to the present moment. For a moment, she couldn’t move, her limbs still frozen in her nightmare, and it took her a few moments to regain her voice. ”N-Necronas?” The lass croaked, finding her throat parched and in need of water.

Shifting, she rose unsteadily and drew in a few breaths, finding her senses coming back at a gradual pace. T’was then she realized where they were and fully awoken, snapping her face to attention. ”Wot is it?” She spoke sharply, her eyes boring into that of the man.

"Where are we going?"

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