Between the lightning's brilliant flash and the booming rumble of the thunder, Beta jumped, landing her unceremoniously out of bed in a tangle of blankets. Her home, which was suspended around a jungle tree above Taur'nost, her fortress-island, remained steady and still, despite the wind's violent protests. It took her a few moments of time to extricate herself from the prison of linen and stand to peer out one of her windows.
From the chill of the glass, the rain felt icy as it fell in sheets against her window, mysteriously ending at the desert across the river. However, a horde of undead was gathering, haunted eyes looking hungrily toward her home, and toward the other inhabitants of Prism. In the white hot light produced by the furious lightning storm above the desert, some of the creatures began to shamble in orderly fashion toward the newly founded settlement of villagers, the Cressida Village.
Overall, the entire sight was very wrong. These things looked far more intelligent than your average score of undead, and aside from that, Wintival's own didn't usually attack Prism in a horde, as Prism's king, although he never quite stated it, worshiped the Frozen Mother. A shiver ran down her spine as one of the creatures appeared to spot her from through the glass, and began to move pointedly toward Taur'nost's tree-bridge.
Purely out of reaction, Beta took up her armor, blades, bow, and arrows. She began carefully down the vine ladder, ignoring the frigid pelting of the icy rain. Alighting branch to branch, the Elven woman took aim at the creature, striking it down before it arrived at her gates.
"Guinadagnir: PILINOR!" The snarl of a spell almost beckoned lightning from the sky as she drew three arrows from her quiver, nocking them and preparing her strike. Instead of firing them at the creatures, she fired them over head. Lit with intense heat, the arrows flew. Three became six, six became twelve, and twelve became twenty-four; all arrows landed in the head or heart of the undead, engulfing them in magic flames. They fell to the ground, smouldering to nothing more than charred remnants of bone.
Beta had to kneel against the tree she was upon for a few moments, recovering her strength. As she stood again, she felt the rumble of something striking her doors, and hard. With a curse, she leapt from the tree to the bridge below, launching in such a way that would spin and flip her to land facing her doorway.
The Wild one came to approximately the creature's knee, and it railed on her door once again. Snarling, the woman's eyes narrowed. "I'll not let you defile the sanctity of Taurnost, fiend!"
Drawing her sword in one hand, her axe in the other, Beta launched toward the undead abomination. Fire erupted from wounds carved by the axe - Smoulder - and the Firesword. With a hellish screech, the creature hurtled after the crazy Elf as she deftly dodged its swinging blows and drew it off the bridge. Once she'd gained enough distance from the thing, she loosely sheathed her blades and drew her bow, arrow nocked.
"Dagnir en guina norsa: PILINOR!" As she loosed the arrow, it lit with an emerald flame. The giant swiped his hand at the arrow, but did nothing to avert the deadly missile from its target. It struck him square in the chest, and it shrieked in agony as cruel emerald fire spread over his body. It was not long before he was a pile of bones and ash, but the strain was obvious on Beta.
Kneeling in the sands, the woman shivered, waiting patiently to recover her strength. Earthen rubies locked in the direction that the raiding party had gone, and Beta knew she did not have much time until they were upon the rest of Prism. All the while, she could not help but wonder.
"Why are Wintival's creations attacking her own child's charges?" Slipping her bow over her shoulder, Beta drew her blades again, sprinting toward the rest of the Syndicate, avoiding the wintery forests as she did. If it was Wintival's doing, she did not want to make herself an open target for an angry god.
She caught up with the shambling raiders as they were rounding the corner to Shunte's home. With a furious cry, Beta began to slay them, setting them ablaze with a stroke or two of Smoulder or the Firesword. Shunte emerged from her home as the last head rolled, stopping just shy of her foot. She shrieked in surprise, hopping back; normally, the Cavick would have no problem with the sight, but it was early in the morning, and it had been unexpected.
"What in Cavilon's name? Beta, what's going on?!" Stone-grey eyes that were once purple looked to the Elf, concerned and angry.
"I don't know who sent them, but there are undead seeking to attack Prism. Some headed for Cressida. Hurry!" With those words, the Wildaven was off again, bounding up the mountainside toward Cressida.
She was too late. The town was ablaze and the screams of the villagers could be heard. Eyes narrowed in fury, the woman roared, brandishing her weapons as she lunged at the nearest undead creature. She split its skull with the force she brought down on it from Smoulder, and kicked its burning body away from the wooden door, now badly damaged. Taking off toward the next creature she saw, she continued until there were no more in sight.
Sprinting up the stairs, Beta let out a cry of frustration as she saw a villager's door break and undead surge in. Shunte, who had arrived from the opposite direction, saw it too. "BETA! The villagers!"
"NO! No, no, no, no, NO!" With every repeated phrase, the Wild woman lurched forward, stopping short of the doorway. The undead were almost through the bedroom door, where she knew the family was hiding.
With a snarl of pure fury, the woman cut through half of the abominations before they breached the door, as her cavick ally blazed arrows through the doorway in assistance. There was nothing she could do while she heard the terrified screams and cries of the family. "NO!" With a howl of anguish, Beta sliced through the rest of the creatures, and looked apologetically toward the family, who had already turned. Hungry, haunted eyes looked upon the Wildaven, recognition gone.
Tears blurred Beta's vision as she brought her weapons up to bear. She thought she would retch as she attempted to speak. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I couldn't save you..." Grim expression on her face, Beta dispatched the undead shadows of the former family. Splattered with gore, the woman emerged. The villagers crowded around, horrified at what had just happened. One look at Shunte, and the communication was clear; no one within had lived.
"Beta..." The cavick reached toward the Wildaven, but she pushed past.
"Beta?" The Wildaven shook her head.
"Shunte..." Beta's voice lacked anything remotely close to emotion. "Please help the villagers repair the damage to their homes. I need to speak with Kelvin." Rude as it might have been, Beta didn't give Shunte the time to argue. She stalked off toward the tower, white-knuckling the handles of her weapons.
Lord Kelvin, I request an audience with you. The Elf reached out with her mind, but felt nothing; not the usual consciousness of the King. There was no-one, and nothing but cold. Flooded with a sudden panic, the woman scaled the stairs to the Necropolis Tower, slamming the metal door open.
"Imirisilme." The rasping baritone struck a chord with the woman, and she froze in place. There had been only one on this side of the world who had known that name, and she had watched him die. Or, at least, she'd thought she had.
"Tiriador?" Beta's head slowly turned, taking in the sight of the man. He was literally emitting cold, which was sending chills all over her body. He was taller than she remembered, and a lot more pale. His eyes had taken on a luminescent blue hue, while the whites were now black. His hair, once blonde as sunlit rays, was now white and brittle. Also in his hand, he held a Jungle Gemstone, which looked corrupt; whatever was in it was horribly twisted, tortured, and felt a lot more like the Tiri she knew than the person standing in front of her. Examining it more closely, the realization hit the Elf like a runaway minecart.
Tiriador had been made into a Lich. Oh, crap.
A smile crossed the man's cracked lips. "I see you have figured it out." The rasping chuckle, combined with the expression, were both very wrong.
"Tiriador... what happened to you?" Beta stood her ground, reining in her terror. She'd never actually faced a Lich - sure, she'd heard of them during her training, but a Lich was not something you wanted to generally run into.
"I died, obviously." The Lich snorted. "Someone decided they had more use of me undead." He smirked. "It's actually a bit entertaining, what with controlling my own mini-legion, and all..."
Beta's eyes narrowed. "Those things in the village were yours?"
The Lich's smirk widened into a sinister grin, and he dipped his head in acknowledgement. The woman's knuckles were white and the grips of her weapons creaked as her fists tightened around them. "I should slay you where you stand, Lich." The pain and rage were obvious on her face. The Tiri she knew would not have done such a thing. This thing was merely an imposter.
"Delicious. Give it a try, sweeting. Or should I say, 'Give it your best shot, your Highness?'" The Lich mock-bowed, gesture full of contempt. The woman was inches from ripping into him, but she held off for a moment longer. "'Highness?' What exactly do you mean?"
"You don't know." The Lich almost purred, a cat-ate-canary smile on his face.
"Know what?" The Elf was apprehensive. It was not typically wise to trust the lies spewing forth from a Lich's mouth.
"Sir Umbriel is... gone, for lack of a better term. You," his bony hand curled into a point, aimed directly between her eyebrows. "Have inherited the mantle."
"Utinu en lokirim," Beta spat. "What have you done with Kelvin?"
"Nothing. But he is gone, none the less."
With a snarl of rage, Beta lunged at the Lich. With an explosion of disembodied laughter, he was gone, blades singing through empty air.
"Damn it!" The Wildaven roared in frustration. "This day just keeps getting better and better." Beta sighed, leaning against a cool, obsidian wall and slumping to the floor.
What now?