Beware The Unspoken
Chapter 1
"Do not fight me," the voice boomed. "You are doomed to fail, Mortanius"
Mortanius, the Guardian of the Pillar of Death, the Necromancer, perhaps the most powerful sorcerer in all of Nosgoth, huddled in a corner deep in the Abyss. He could feel the alien being inside his mind, slowly taking control of him. Despite all of the spells in his repertoire, despite all the knowledge that he had come to gain over the many centuries of his tenure as the Pillar of Death, Mortanius trembled as he replied to the voice.
"Fall silent, foul demon!" Mortanius desperately hoped that his bravado would fool the creature within, though he was unable to convince even himself. "I will cleanse myself of your taint and serve Nosgoth as I was selected to!"
"Serve Nosgoth?" The creature's laugh echoed within the caverns of his mind. "Have you learned nothing in all the centuries that you have been the Guardian of Death? Has your mind been so concerned with this pit in which you reside that you are unable to see the world above?" He could feel the voice's power emanating from within.
"I will not be swayed by your lies, beast!" Everything Mortanius knew to be true and just told him that this creature was a plague upon his mind and must be fought with all the strength in his possession. "Cease your foolishness, you pathetic wretch, and leave my mind!"
"No! No! My Lords, please! Forgive me! Forgive me!"
For a brief moment, Mortanius allowed himself to believe that he had defeated the demon, that it had left him with pleas for mercy. It took him another moment to finally place the voice, though it was more beaten than he had ever remembered it: the righteous tone and the mighty Malek, last of the Sarafan Sorcerer-Priests and the greatest of that Order. The Sarafan, created by several members of the Circle of Nine who felt that the Vampires were an unholy scourge upon the land, and needed to be forever purged from the land. The Vampire Purges had taken hundreds of thousands of lives, and yet for some reason it was upheld as an example of purity in the world.
Mortanius frowned. A Vampire's soul did not enter into his abode; however, as the Pillar of Death, Mortanius felt almost as if he were the Patron Saint of Vampires, and had argued long and hard against the Vampire Purges, to no effect. The Sarafan, and even the Guardians who founded them, were as bloodthirsty as the Vampires themselves, if not even more so. For some reason, Mortanius couldn't help but respect the Vampires, who had been in existence since before Mortanius had taken up his role as the Necromancer, all those many centuries ago. He still remembered the "slaying" of the Vampire known as Janos Audren. Audren had even spoken to Mortanius many years ago, when Mortanius was newly risen to his position as the Pillar of Death after being raised by the remaining 8 members of the Circle of Nine.
"Remember, Guardian, that, beyond all else, balance is necessary in the world," the angel-winged Vampire had told the young Necromancer, who still resembled a human being at the time. Thus, despite all that the rest of the Pillars may do, the Pillar of Balance can undo them all with but the will. The purpose of the Circle of Nine is to serve Nosgoth, and this is not always achieved by the obvious means. Look beyond, Necromancer, and never forget your debt to this great land."
Mortanius recalled hearing of Janos' death several weeks ago at the hands of Malek's Sarafan brothers, headed by the Grand Inquisitor Raziel. The bodies of the Sarafan Priests were found soon after, slain and drained of blood. At the same time, the Vampire Vorador had attacked the Sarafan Keep, where several of the Circle of Nine were monitoring the progress of their holy warriors. Despite the fact that it was his own brothers and sisters that had fallen to the Vampire Champion's vengeful attack, Mortanius could feel nothing but sorrow for Vorador, who had lost everyone whom he had ever loved. Likewise, he could feel nothing but hatred for the cold-hearted Sarafan who butchered the Vampires. It was here that Mortanius made a terrible mistake.
He suddenly heard deep, dark laughter, echoing everywhere within his mind. Too late, Mortanius saw his error: in thinking so much of outside events, his mental defenses had faltered just long enough to allow his inner demon to attack. Even now, as he hastily attempted to put up mental blocks, he could feel the creature everywhere, rushing through his mind like a flood of evil. His arms shot up and pushed his body off the ground, and in horror, Mortanius realized that he could no longer control them.
"Cease your fighting, fool," the beast laughed. "It shall do you absolutely no good. Now, sit back, and witness the opening scene of my theatre of Grand Guignol!"
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The Necromancer Mortanius walked to the edge of the cliff overviewing Malek's tortured form, deep in the Abyss. The proud Paladin looked up in horror as the skeletal form of the Pillar of Death stared down at him. Strangely, Mortanius seemed enhanced, with a powerful aura stronger than any Malek had sensed before. Worse, the aura had a taint of evil about it. Malek then spotted another form beside the Lord of the Abyss, and nearly shouted: it was Moebius, the Guardian of the Pillar of Time. As the two began speaking, Malek forced himself to calm down and hear the conversation as he silently worked at the locks that bound him over this pit. He had heard rumors that the other six Sorcerer-Priests had fallen: the Crusader Melchiah, the Templar Zephon, the Archbishop Rahab, the Avenger Dumah, Turel the Judicator Turel, even his old friend Raziel the Grand Inquisitor. If this was true, then he, Malek, the Paladin, was the last ranking Sarafan within the Order, and if he fell, then the Order itself and their Divine Mission would fall into obscurity. Besides, Malek frowned, that last unholy worm who had defeated him would have to pay.
"And you are sure that he will remain the Pillar, Mortanius?" the Time-Streamer asked.
"Yes."
"This is very important, Necromancer! We will not be able to raise seven children to become Pillars of Nosgoth. The Pillar must continue to recognize him."
"It shall."
Who were the two speaking of? Malek could barely hide his pure hatred for the Time-Streamer. The old man had forced him to stay behind and guard a twisted freak while the blasted bald Vampire murdered the Pillars of Nosgoth! It was Moebius, not him; why, then, had he been dragged down to Mortanius' abode and chained? Why was his armor fully fasted in front of him? What was happening?
"My Lords! Please! I have served you well! I did as I was told! Please, listen to me!"
Moebius stepped away as the Necromancer turned to the bound Sarafan.
"Silence!" The echo of the command sounded for several long seconds before finally fading away.
"For failing the Circle, Malek of the Sarafan, you are hereby damned!"
Suddenly, Malek's skin began to tremble violently, and begin to rapidly age. In one blinding instant of pain, he felt his insides rupture and his muscles atrophy beyond any resemblance of humanity. As he opened his mouth to utter a scream, Malek, Paladin and greatest of the Sarafan, felt his soul leave his crumbling body. A bright light flashed before him, and Malek felt certain that this was the entrance to Paradise, that he was being rewarded for the trials that he had had to endure. He began to rise...
"The pleasures of the flesh are no longer yours."
With a gradual arc, Malek began to descend back into the darkness. He tried to fight the pull of the Necromancer's magic and return to the gates of Paradise, but was helpless against the sorcery of the Pillar of Death. In this moment of fear, Malek finally noticed his armor, still before him...
"You have but one purpose, damned warrior."
Malek felt unholy pain, as his soul, once nestled within his beautiful body, now was fused to the metallic skin of his armor. The rune-filled plate mail, once a symbol of his piety, now surrounded him like a prison. Malek pushed, but he could not force his soul to leave his cell. He realized that his pike was in his "hand," and could not drop the weapon. Slowly, he looked around him, beginning to understand just how damned he was...
"You will serve us for eternity."
Chapter 1
"Do not fight me," the voice boomed. "You are doomed to fail, Mortanius"
Mortanius, the Guardian of the Pillar of Death, the Necromancer, perhaps the most powerful sorcerer in all of Nosgoth, huddled in a corner deep in the Abyss. He could feel the alien being inside his mind, slowly taking control of him. Despite all of the spells in his repertoire, despite all the knowledge that he had come to gain over the many centuries of his tenure as the Pillar of Death, Mortanius trembled as he replied to the voice.
"Fall silent, foul demon!" Mortanius desperately hoped that his bravado would fool the creature within, though he was unable to convince even himself. "I will cleanse myself of your taint and serve Nosgoth as I was selected to!"
"Serve Nosgoth?" The creature's laugh echoed within the caverns of his mind. "Have you learned nothing in all the centuries that you have been the Guardian of Death? Has your mind been so concerned with this pit in which you reside that you are unable to see the world above?" He could feel the voice's power emanating from within.
"I will not be swayed by your lies, beast!" Everything Mortanius knew to be true and just told him that this creature was a plague upon his mind and must be fought with all the strength in his possession. "Cease your foolishness, you pathetic wretch, and leave my mind!"
"No! No! My Lords, please! Forgive me! Forgive me!"
For a brief moment, Mortanius allowed himself to believe that he had defeated the demon, that it had left him with pleas for mercy. It took him another moment to finally place the voice, though it was more beaten than he had ever remembered it: the righteous tone and the mighty Malek, last of the Sarafan Sorcerer-Priests and the greatest of that Order. The Sarafan, created by several members of the Circle of Nine who felt that the Vampires were an unholy scourge upon the land, and needed to be forever purged from the land. The Vampire Purges had taken hundreds of thousands of lives, and yet for some reason it was upheld as an example of purity in the world.
Mortanius frowned. A Vampire's soul did not enter into his abode; however, as the Pillar of Death, Mortanius felt almost as if he were the Patron Saint of Vampires, and had argued long and hard against the Vampire Purges, to no effect. The Sarafan, and even the Guardians who founded them, were as bloodthirsty as the Vampires themselves, if not even more so. For some reason, Mortanius couldn't help but respect the Vampires, who had been in existence since before Mortanius had taken up his role as the Necromancer, all those many centuries ago. He still remembered the "slaying" of the Vampire known as Janos Audren. Audren had even spoken to Mortanius many years ago, when Mortanius was newly risen to his position as the Pillar of Death after being raised by the remaining 8 members of the Circle of Nine.
"Remember, Guardian, that, beyond all else, balance is necessary in the world," the angel-winged Vampire had told the young Necromancer, who still resembled a human being at the time. Thus, despite all that the rest of the Pillars may do, the Pillar of Balance can undo them all with but the will. The purpose of the Circle of Nine is to serve Nosgoth, and this is not always achieved by the obvious means. Look beyond, Necromancer, and never forget your debt to this great land."
Mortanius recalled hearing of Janos' death several weeks ago at the hands of Malek's Sarafan brothers, headed by the Grand Inquisitor Raziel. The bodies of the Sarafan Priests were found soon after, slain and drained of blood. At the same time, the Vampire Vorador had attacked the Sarafan Keep, where several of the Circle of Nine were monitoring the progress of their holy warriors. Despite the fact that it was his own brothers and sisters that had fallen to the Vampire Champion's vengeful attack, Mortanius could feel nothing but sorrow for Vorador, who had lost everyone whom he had ever loved. Likewise, he could feel nothing but hatred for the cold-hearted Sarafan who butchered the Vampires. It was here that Mortanius made a terrible mistake.
He suddenly heard deep, dark laughter, echoing everywhere within his mind. Too late, Mortanius saw his error: in thinking so much of outside events, his mental defenses had faltered just long enough to allow his inner demon to attack. Even now, as he hastily attempted to put up mental blocks, he could feel the creature everywhere, rushing through his mind like a flood of evil. His arms shot up and pushed his body off the ground, and in horror, Mortanius realized that he could no longer control them.
"Cease your fighting, fool," the beast laughed. "It shall do you absolutely no good. Now, sit back, and witness the opening scene of my theatre of Grand Guignol!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Necromancer Mortanius walked to the edge of the cliff overviewing Malek's tortured form, deep in the Abyss. The proud Paladin looked up in horror as the skeletal form of the Pillar of Death stared down at him. Strangely, Mortanius seemed enhanced, with a powerful aura stronger than any Malek had sensed before. Worse, the aura had a taint of evil about it. Malek then spotted another form beside the Lord of the Abyss, and nearly shouted: it was Moebius, the Guardian of the Pillar of Time. As the two began speaking, Malek forced himself to calm down and hear the conversation as he silently worked at the locks that bound him over this pit. He had heard rumors that the other six Sorcerer-Priests had fallen: the Crusader Melchiah, the Templar Zephon, the Archbishop Rahab, the Avenger Dumah, Turel the Judicator Turel, even his old friend Raziel the Grand Inquisitor. If this was true, then he, Malek, the Paladin, was the last ranking Sarafan within the Order, and if he fell, then the Order itself and their Divine Mission would fall into obscurity. Besides, Malek frowned, that last unholy worm who had defeated him would have to pay.
"And you are sure that he will remain the Pillar, Mortanius?" the Time-Streamer asked.
"Yes."
"This is very important, Necromancer! We will not be able to raise seven children to become Pillars of Nosgoth. The Pillar must continue to recognize him."
"It shall."
Who were the two speaking of? Malek could barely hide his pure hatred for the Time-Streamer. The old man had forced him to stay behind and guard a twisted freak while the blasted bald Vampire murdered the Pillars of Nosgoth! It was Moebius, not him; why, then, had he been dragged down to Mortanius' abode and chained? Why was his armor fully fasted in front of him? What was happening?
"My Lords! Please! I have served you well! I did as I was told! Please, listen to me!"
Moebius stepped away as the Necromancer turned to the bound Sarafan.
"Silence!" The echo of the command sounded for several long seconds before finally fading away.
"For failing the Circle, Malek of the Sarafan, you are hereby damned!"
Suddenly, Malek's skin began to tremble violently, and begin to rapidly age. In one blinding instant of pain, he felt his insides rupture and his muscles atrophy beyond any resemblance of humanity. As he opened his mouth to utter a scream, Malek, Paladin and greatest of the Sarafan, felt his soul leave his crumbling body. A bright light flashed before him, and Malek felt certain that this was the entrance to Paradise, that he was being rewarded for the trials that he had had to endure. He began to rise...
"The pleasures of the flesh are no longer yours."
With a gradual arc, Malek began to descend back into the darkness. He tried to fight the pull of the Necromancer's magic and return to the gates of Paradise, but was helpless against the sorcery of the Pillar of Death. In this moment of fear, Malek finally noticed his armor, still before him...
"You have but one purpose, damned warrior."
Malek felt unholy pain, as his soul, once nestled within his beautiful body, now was fused to the metallic skin of his armor. The rune-filled plate mail, once a symbol of his piety, now surrounded him like a prison. Malek pushed, but he could not force his soul to leave his cell. He realized that his pike was in his "hand," and could not drop the weapon. Slowly, he looked around him, beginning to understand just how damned he was...
"You will serve us for eternity."