Wayfare to an Uncertain Asylum, Chapter IV: Difference between revisions
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The group of ancient ghosts that had sat within the semi-circle with The Prince upon Whisper's arrival had now returned, some of them looked anxiously at the body that hung from the ceiling, other looked to the rotting flesh with hunger in their eyes. The trophy of his victory had served its purpose, even the most perceptive of The Prince's servants would see no physical difference between the real and the imposter, however he could not afford to have all of their attention gathered upon him. It would take time for him to gather all the knowledge that a deathknight prince such as the man he'd killed would know, he did not have much time as he knew a far greater oppounent would be arriving on the following day. He sighed as one of the drones groaned on about the insult of sending a propsal to The Walker in Darkness for what to do with his own army. He was in no mood to hear the rabblings of a ghost who had clung to life like some pathetic child to a favorite toy, if this is what he would find in the court of The Walker then perhaps he could make his stay here a long one. If only he could get by tomorrow, though would he be any safer under the guise of a rival deathknight than he was as a rogue? Perhaps. | The group of ancient ghosts that had sat within the semi-circle with The Prince upon Whisper's arrival had now returned, some of them looked anxiously at the body that hung from the ceiling, other looked to the rotting flesh with hunger in their eyes. The trophy of his victory had served its purpose, even the most perceptive of The Prince's servants would see no physical difference between the real and the imposter, however he could not afford to have all of their attention gathered upon him. It would take time for him to gather all the knowledge that a deathknight prince such as the man he'd killed would know, he did not have much time as he knew a far greater oppounent would be arriving on the following day. He sighed as one of the drones groaned on about the insult of sending a propsal to The Walker in Darkness for what to do with his own army. He was in no mood to hear the rabblings of a ghost who had clung to life like some pathetic child to a favorite toy, if this is what he would find in the court of The Walker then perhaps he could make his stay here a long one. If only he could get by tomorrow, though would he be any safer under the guise of a rival deathknight than he was as a rogue? Perhaps. | ||
"Leave me." Arkanians voice shattered the chatter among his court of ghosts, all eyes turned to him, suddenly silent. "I have no desire to hear the ramblings of the dead tonight. Make preperations for tomorrow, be sure that everything is in order for our visitor. Perhaps tomorrow you will be given the oppurtunity to prove your worth to me." As he spoke he cast his gaze at the subjects before him, slaming a balled fist down upon the arm of his throne as he finished, the vibrations echoed through the marble throne and reverberated through the floor. | |||
His point was made and the ghosts that served him soon left the chamber, sensing that he was finally alone Arkanian let out a sigh of relief. It took some concentration for him to tap into the scattered memories of The Prince, but soon enough he was able to find what he desired. A switch at the back of the throne caused it to slide forward, revealing a secret stairway under the chamber, here he would find The Princes place of rest as well many of the documents that would provide him the information necessary to pull of this switch. | |||
He awoke with a jolt, though he was unaware of what caused him to wake so suddenly. A look around the large dark room told him that he was still alone, the candle that he had been reading by the night before had burned out. Doccuments were strewn about the desk, some had fallen or been discarded to the floor, Arkanian had drifed to sleep at the desk and by the look of the burned out candle had slept for several hours. A single strike of flint would be enough to light the oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, casting a dull glow around the room, though it left the corners still eriely dark. Arkanian stretched slowly as tried to work the stiffnesss of sleep from his body, his ribs ached and his muscles felt weak but there was no more time for rest today. He washed up and put on The Prince's finest robes, a young deathknight like The Prince would need to work hard to fall into the favor of an expereinced abyssal general such as Shards of Basalt. | |||
The day began quietly as the ghosts of the court were not yet awoken, though several mortal servanats were about and they fixed him a fine breakfest. He also noticed that someone had taken the care to remove the body from the rafters and clean up in it's wake, the hall had been decorated more so than it was yesterday. From the looks of things no one would ever know that a deathknight had been killed upon the floor of the throne room yesterday, Arkanian hoped that it would stay that way. Final preperations were made for the arrival of Shards of Basalt, a cermony for his arrival along with a feast was planned that would occupy the twightlight ours of the evening, afterwords would be business. | |||
[[Image:Shards of Basalt.PNG|thumb|right|350px|Shards of Basalt to Her Army astride Stalker of Regret and Despair]] | |||
[[Wayfare to an Uncertain Asylum, Chapter III|The Previous Chapter]] | [[Wayfare to an Uncertain Asylum, Chapter III|The Previous Chapter]] | ||
<br/>[[Wayfare to an Uncertain Asylum, Chapter V|The Next Chapter]] | <br/>[[Wayfare to an Uncertain Asylum, Chapter V|The Next Chapter]] | ||
Revision as of 17:44, 3 November 2008
This Chapter is Incomplete
Chapter IV - Flight for Freedom
"Our guest is no longer with us, his propsal was an insult to the greatness of The Walker in Darkness. The arrogance of his master will not be forgiven or forgotten, let this set example to any who doubt the unstoppable power of The Master."
Whisper spoke with a strong authority, though the voice he spoke with was certainly not his. He had in all ways become The Prince of the Ninth Obelisk, his voice and appearace were mirror images. His clothes were spattered with blood as was his throne room, though his servants had started cleaning the white marble. From the ceiling hung the trophy of his plot, a torseo of a man, no limbs or head to speak of. Blood dripped slowly down from the stumps that remained, no sign of missing limbs but the blood that gathered at the edges of his mouth. Though Whisper did his best not to show it, he had suffered his share of injuries fromt he battle with the other deathknight, though clearly the winner the pain that echoed through his chest with every breath was not going away anytime soon.
The group of ancient ghosts that had sat within the semi-circle with The Prince upon Whisper's arrival had now returned, some of them looked anxiously at the body that hung from the ceiling, other looked to the rotting flesh with hunger in their eyes. The trophy of his victory had served its purpose, even the most perceptive of The Prince's servants would see no physical difference between the real and the imposter, however he could not afford to have all of their attention gathered upon him. It would take time for him to gather all the knowledge that a deathknight prince such as the man he'd killed would know, he did not have much time as he knew a far greater oppounent would be arriving on the following day. He sighed as one of the drones groaned on about the insult of sending a propsal to The Walker in Darkness for what to do with his own army. He was in no mood to hear the rabblings of a ghost who had clung to life like some pathetic child to a favorite toy, if this is what he would find in the court of The Walker then perhaps he could make his stay here a long one. If only he could get by tomorrow, though would he be any safer under the guise of a rival deathknight than he was as a rogue? Perhaps.
"Leave me." Arkanians voice shattered the chatter among his court of ghosts, all eyes turned to him, suddenly silent. "I have no desire to hear the ramblings of the dead tonight. Make preperations for tomorrow, be sure that everything is in order for our visitor. Perhaps tomorrow you will be given the oppurtunity to prove your worth to me." As he spoke he cast his gaze at the subjects before him, slaming a balled fist down upon the arm of his throne as he finished, the vibrations echoed through the marble throne and reverberated through the floor.
His point was made and the ghosts that served him soon left the chamber, sensing that he was finally alone Arkanian let out a sigh of relief. It took some concentration for him to tap into the scattered memories of The Prince, but soon enough he was able to find what he desired. A switch at the back of the throne caused it to slide forward, revealing a secret stairway under the chamber, here he would find The Princes place of rest as well many of the documents that would provide him the information necessary to pull of this switch.
He awoke with a jolt, though he was unaware of what caused him to wake so suddenly. A look around the large dark room told him that he was still alone, the candle that he had been reading by the night before had burned out. Doccuments were strewn about the desk, some had fallen or been discarded to the floor, Arkanian had drifed to sleep at the desk and by the look of the burned out candle had slept for several hours. A single strike of flint would be enough to light the oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, casting a dull glow around the room, though it left the corners still eriely dark. Arkanian stretched slowly as tried to work the stiffnesss of sleep from his body, his ribs ached and his muscles felt weak but there was no more time for rest today. He washed up and put on The Prince's finest robes, a young deathknight like The Prince would need to work hard to fall into the favor of an expereinced abyssal general such as Shards of Basalt.
The day began quietly as the ghosts of the court were not yet awoken, though several mortal servanats were about and they fixed him a fine breakfest. He also noticed that someone had taken the care to remove the body from the rafters and clean up in it's wake, the hall had been decorated more so than it was yesterday. From the looks of things no one would ever know that a deathknight had been killed upon the floor of the throne room yesterday, Arkanian hoped that it would stay that way. Final preperations were made for the arrival of Shards of Basalt, a cermony for his arrival along with a feast was planned that would occupy the twightlight ours of the evening, afterwords would be business.
