Cinder watched the bellows of smoke. Signing at the city's destruction. He could only hum mumbling arcane spells, trimming away at the grass. He had been the groundskeeper of this graveyard since he was a youngster. Too quiet to make it else where, too peaceful, he was almost considered a dead man himself. He kept to himself and tended the dead.
Been doing so for 51 years, he has seen it all. Buried many a man, woman and occasional child. Learnt magic for mowing the grass, keeping unwelcome visitors out and his own sanity in check. Though not much to save. He wasn't insane, or at least not in a twisted fashion, though he did chat to the dead. Even if they never responded.
He chuckled light burning away the shaved off bits of grass carefully before looking at his handy work. It will take time to weather this graveyard, but only when he dies. The tombstones were nice, grass cut, landscape nice and flat.
Most the time, families didn't have the coin to buy tombstones from those fancy shops. But in his spare time he had made them himself.
The Old man Cinders, named by burnt ash trees, now as a graveyard groundskeeper and guardian. The best job, quiet, peaceful and home to him.
###
Duth had to stop by the Graveyard in his march. He needed soldiers, that and a special quest popped up.
[[Special Quest]]
Description: You are a king of the undead, mere hundreds will not do, but thousands could forge a single legion of many. The start, raise your army, your first legion!
Deadline: You have one hour
Penalty: Ripped apart by the undead, soul bound in chains, sealed in the darker realms. The undead do not take kind to false kings.
It was a terrible quest, failure is death. He could see his knights, although named and loyal, reacted to the makings of that quest. Not to mention he felt a slow ire building. He couldn't just get angry and yell at them.
The dead do not forget and he did not want to piss off the vast realms of the 'Underworld' that is akin to trillions of souls.. No far far more. From the dawn of time till now the souls gathered within the realm easily break any possible number a rough idea would be a nine hundred ninety nine trillion times several hundreds of billions. Mind you, a rough estimation. That is not including any realms he doesn't know of. To which there are many in the soul realm. Be it Aether, Ether, 9 rings, extra dimensional planes, the likes. He only knows of a few, being the main soul realm and its outer edges. It is not a breachable realm. Or at least it shouldn't have been, but it was and now he is here.
Now he didn't know how he could raise the entire graveyard. His raise skill did not allow for extras from what it could do, he wasn't allowed to raise in groups either, but rather he had to raise them all at the same time or perish.
But how? Magic wouldn't help him in this regard, but what other way was there. He could feel thousands under the ground. So many of them held a warped arua. Almost as if they were already in their corpses.
No questioning now, he had to hurry, getting here took time from him.
"Rise my legion, serve me and help me.." He began, but the resistance was akin to a mountain. The building ire suffocating, he felt his bones creak under the pressure.
Time: 42:20
What made a king? Duth thought to himself. Power, riches, strength?
"Do you not wish for the power of the physical realm? I can give it! You only need to rise.. Why wont you?!"
He felt like a blacksmith trying to forge with cold iron. No fire alit to soften it.
What fire would he need?
Duth knelt, placing his palm in the cut grass and enforcing the spell to raise a group. Worth a try, he wanted them to rise. His will begged it. There he sat for time.
Time: 31:22
What is a king? Power is natural, only if it is enforced, or made by such a title. Riches are a given, strength needed. But what makes a king? Anyone can have all three, what makes a king any better, different?
Ahh, Willpower.
Duth rose, moving towards the center of the graveyard.
Time: 25:47
He casted out a net of necron adnored shadow. An aura of green and smoke rising around him.
He enforced every ounce of his will, speaking words from heart, from burning coals to blazing will.
"Rise, rise, kin of the dead, for too long we have remained asleep." The silence was broken by a lone voice.
"Too long silent in our retreat, we have been robbed, poked and prodded, we have been tormented by those too careless." A tremor shook the entire graveyard, going no further than the walls that separate it from the living.
"So now I call to arms, rise and take the mantle that I have taken. Take up your arms and join your brethren. Let the living flail under our ire, let them scream as we have, suffer as we have."
The ground whined as it moved.
Duth's arua only grew. Sickly green seeping into the cracks in the dirt.
"They rip us from our homes, use us as power for their own people. Break us from the ground in forced servitude."
Duths voice began to seeth, his voice seemingly whispering the first sentence. It was filled.with a hatred that could cook the gods on skewers.
Yet his voice calmed into a stern rumble.
"I only ask that we scorch them.for their crimes. It is time we acted now! As your King I solemnly swear to purge them.of their crimes, in crimson fire I will burn their sins to cinders!"
The ground bulged and broke, skeletons still rotting zombies bursting from their graves. Rising with shambling rumbles of maddening anger. Cinders himself watched this in surprise. He heard the speech and felt his own soul resonate. Almost forgetting he was alive himself in the very graveyard that had just broken from their confines.
The act of running did not cross his mind. Only wanting the same destruction, his peaceful outlook taken by anger for what the living had done.
Any human within the net of necron would have withered in its touch. Yet Cinders was untouched. A whispering wail reached his ears. "I did not forget you. I saw your work, i can feel the dead welcome you. I only ask, do you wish to join us, groundskeeper?"
The whispers weren't from Duth, but those around him. Yet duth felt it, the collective will of so many grateful to a man who upkept their resting place. He heard their question and an answer.
"Yes.. Do I need to die?"
Duth stared and nodded. To which the groundskeeper withdrew a small knife. But duth was swift to stop him. "No need, come here. For your honor given, we shall make you stronger." Duth looked to his death knights. They in turned nodded "Commee to usss groundssskeepper."
Duth's arua reached its zenith. A beam reaching the storming clouds with the wails of thousands of undead. Cracked rumbled across garlen, shifting its landmass into varying elevations, not unlike a 9.0 earthquake.
Everyone laid eyes on it. So terrible it's arua, so terrifying to remain. Everyone looked to the skies and shivered deeply. Garlen's fall is guaranteed.
The dead were unhappy
They each held an extreme personification of one singular emotion, anger. Whilst they burned with a desire so powerful even the living could feel their own bones tremble. The despair in tow was simply absolute, whatever was done to the dead by the living was so defined and great they living or those who think this know they may as well have deserved it.
[[Special Event Completed]]
You have gained their undying loyalty, now you are a true king of undeath. Now go forth with your army and seize that of what the living dare deprive!
Reward: Soul Stone
Chuckling he looked towards the south, there is work to be done, no? Cities to burn, armies to raise and culprits to catch, it was clear from the start this path of his was simply a warpath. No amount of peace will last, the war to come with be bloody and long, surely he will take breaks. Yet that's like saying a soldier resting after surviving the day. Of course they would have to face the next day, that's just it. That soldiers peace was fragile and simply the time of his rest, his own peace and it doesn't last long. So Duth will be the same, yet more so intense, he didn't have the physical needs of a body, aside from a few complications. Its only his mental fatigue, therefore although he enjoyed his life. He had taken the path of blood, and blood he will have.
###
Thunderous crackles boom overhead Garhen, their non stop chorus making many believe the gods themselves fought in the heavens, just as they fought on the ground. Granted the war of the gods were long ago, even then a battle between gods would be the death. Not only the planet, but several solar systems would fall. Really the sounds they heard could be the makings of demigods if they were around. Of course its not, but people can dream.
Few took notice of another sound, as if deep thrumming claps of ominous sound was the gods blowing their war horns as angels and unicorn gather to fight armies of another force.
Yet this was hardly the case. For those few who noticed heard it again, but with deep booms that caused tremors to flow amongst the cities foundations. Looking east just past the city and cresting an incline was an awe stricken sight.
Bronze glinting armor just bordering a golden touch glowers in the dying sun's light. Just far enough below clouds to shine its final beacon upon a falling city and its people who took this as their last stand.
A sea of bronze marched over that hill slowly, those hopeful this horror was perhaps a tidal wave. Lost any thread to that emotion when they didn't stop coming. Thousands of troops marched set in massive columns and led by men on horse back adorned in even grander sets of armor.
Adilen rose from his chair after a soldier hurried in face stricken with horror and his morale on the edge just teetering. "The Empire.. They've arrived!"
Beldeus surveyed the current situation, city wrought with ruin. Strange sickly flames burning within much small than that vortex he saw not too long ago. A wall that had damage and even collapsed in one part. Finally a sizeable force of bandits sitting around 4 siege weapons. hH could tell they took some losses, after all between the wall and their forces lay dozens dead with arrows littering their bodies, whilst dozens more lay within or against the rubble.
So there has already been a failed siege, from his view with the dying sun behind him, they were preparing a new attack.
Beldeus was perhaps the most adorned man here. His armor held edgings of dragons who moved when he did. Thanks to the enchantments that made up most his armor. Helmet shaped almost like a dragons head. Morning star at his waist looking as deadly as a spiked ball and chained to a handle shaft could look.
"Move a thousand in to reinforce the bandits attacks. I want this all said and done by tomorrow afternoon. Do not fail me Itola."
Officer looked up with a nod and whipped his horse into action. taking a detachment from the legion, With another command the rest dispersed to make camp.
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Chapters before have their grammer fixed, or as much as i could fix. Some info was added on around the chapters of Duth about to leave the crypt. That said, my google docs is a lil messy. I think iv pin pointed what chapter is next. If you see any repeats or issues. please let me know, as you know i am receptive to comments. Weather or not iv liked or commented on them. just know i have read each and every one of them.