Okay, standard disclaimer. I do not own WizKids LLC, Mage Knight, or any
properties described within. So please don't sue, alright? Ben is a poor
guy, he already has enough debts to worry about. Thanks!
-----------------------------------------------
Torches always seemed to annoy me.... Their flickering light, seeming to cast capering shapes in the darkness, illuminating that which you did not wish to see, hiding what you feared. Ironic now, that I lay ringed in a circle of them, set high above the black marble dais on which I lay. I took comfort from those fears within the suit of armor which encased my form. My soon-to-be permanent home, in fact. Unyielding, unbreakable... undying. All that this pitiful casing of flesh and bone could not provide, and that which I craved. My hands clenched and unclenched slowly in anticipation of these desires, soon to be fulfilled. As if summoned by these thoughts, my salvation (my tormenter) moved into view above me. A beautiful sight, even to me... Long ebony curls fell in waves over ivory flesh, her red tiers parted and revealing white teeth in an impish grin as she leaned over my prone form.
Her voice, like the whisper of the night wind through the branches of the forest, reached my ears through this shell of enchanted steel. "Your dedication to the Sect is... admirable, Nopheratus Secris. This is not a path to be undertaken lightly... so I must offer you the chance to refuse, this final time."
Hah! I had not given my blood, my sweat -- my very soul -- to the Sect, to turn back at this point. I believed the pain and suffering I had inflicted and received in my years of servitude had hardened me. Even death itself held no fear for me... I was prepared. "I must decline your offer. Proceed as you will."
"Very well. Your induction into the Order begins... now." Her hand rested against the breastplate of my armor as she spoke the final syllable. Pale lids slipping closed over obsidian hues, her lips parted again in a chant, voice in a low murmur. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn that the point where her hand met metal had begun to heat. I soon learned that I was not suffering under any such delusion... the warmth quickly spread throughout the entire suit, bathing my body in sweat almost instantly.
The heat seemed to intensify, bringing forth an increased rush of perspiration. I gasped in pain as the encasing metal grew to a painful temperature, burning my unprotected skin. Licking my lips in an attempt to keep my mouth from being soured, I encountered a metallic taste. Puzzled at this, I drew in a sharp breath... the scent of copper filled my nostrils. I knew instantly what it was, you could not spend any time around battle and death without knowing that smell intimately.
It was blood. My blood.
In that moment, I saw with perfect clarity just why the Uhlriks seemed to always be sheathed in red. Before that line of thought could proceed any farther, the nightwitch's voice raised into a shout, her chant ringing into the midnight air.
Time seemed to freeze at that moment.... My entire body was shot through with pure torture, each single nerve in my body alight with the sensation that I was being burned alive. The bite of an enemy blade, the ghoulish touch of a mage's flame spell.... Nothing compared to this. The whole of my world was centered on this excruciating pain. Though I had resolved to keep silent through the ordeal, resolve crumbles quickly in the face of utter agony. An unearthly shriek was ripped from me, rising in volume and pitch as the sensation that threatened to tear me asunder grew. My vision grew hazy and red, surely a foretaste of the hell that awaited me. Wild screams and curses slipped from my lips, imprecations to anyone and everyone, pleas to any god that might conceivably be inclined to listen to strike me dead now, end my suffering. At the very instant my mind seemed to unhinge, to float away on this current of madness, the pain stopped, as if someone had detached me from the world. Only the fading murmur of the witch remained for a moment, ceasing. Her voice reached me again. "...Welcome to the Order, Brother of Uhlrik. Rise and join the Sect once more."
I sat up stiffly, gazing to the woman. Nodding, I looked back to the altar where I had been lying not a minute before. My outline still remained there.... A crust of dried blood, burned into the very surface of the black marble. Lifting my hand to look at it, I saw red... my entire arm was coated in a faint sheen of blood. Curiously, I wiped it away, only to see the cleaned spot be covered with the seeping scarlet liquid once more. A swift inspection of the rest of my armored form revealed the same story. I laughed then, voice disembodied and seeming to echo from the depths of the metal itself.
I had achieved my dream... now I was to inflict nightmares on all those who would oppose the Sect.
-----------------------------------------------
Torches always seemed to annoy me.... Their flickering light, seeming to cast capering shapes in the darkness, illuminating that which you did not wish to see, hiding what you feared. Ironic now, that I lay ringed in a circle of them, set high above the black marble dais on which I lay. I took comfort from those fears within the suit of armor which encased my form. My soon-to-be permanent home, in fact. Unyielding, unbreakable... undying. All that this pitiful casing of flesh and bone could not provide, and that which I craved. My hands clenched and unclenched slowly in anticipation of these desires, soon to be fulfilled. As if summoned by these thoughts, my salvation (my tormenter) moved into view above me. A beautiful sight, even to me... Long ebony curls fell in waves over ivory flesh, her red tiers parted and revealing white teeth in an impish grin as she leaned over my prone form.
Her voice, like the whisper of the night wind through the branches of the forest, reached my ears through this shell of enchanted steel. "Your dedication to the Sect is... admirable, Nopheratus Secris. This is not a path to be undertaken lightly... so I must offer you the chance to refuse, this final time."
Hah! I had not given my blood, my sweat -- my very soul -- to the Sect, to turn back at this point. I believed the pain and suffering I had inflicted and received in my years of servitude had hardened me. Even death itself held no fear for me... I was prepared. "I must decline your offer. Proceed as you will."
"Very well. Your induction into the Order begins... now." Her hand rested against the breastplate of my armor as she spoke the final syllable. Pale lids slipping closed over obsidian hues, her lips parted again in a chant, voice in a low murmur. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn that the point where her hand met metal had begun to heat. I soon learned that I was not suffering under any such delusion... the warmth quickly spread throughout the entire suit, bathing my body in sweat almost instantly.
The heat seemed to intensify, bringing forth an increased rush of perspiration. I gasped in pain as the encasing metal grew to a painful temperature, burning my unprotected skin. Licking my lips in an attempt to keep my mouth from being soured, I encountered a metallic taste. Puzzled at this, I drew in a sharp breath... the scent of copper filled my nostrils. I knew instantly what it was, you could not spend any time around battle and death without knowing that smell intimately.
It was blood. My blood.
In that moment, I saw with perfect clarity just why the Uhlriks seemed to always be sheathed in red. Before that line of thought could proceed any farther, the nightwitch's voice raised into a shout, her chant ringing into the midnight air.
Time seemed to freeze at that moment.... My entire body was shot through with pure torture, each single nerve in my body alight with the sensation that I was being burned alive. The bite of an enemy blade, the ghoulish touch of a mage's flame spell.... Nothing compared to this. The whole of my world was centered on this excruciating pain. Though I had resolved to keep silent through the ordeal, resolve crumbles quickly in the face of utter agony. An unearthly shriek was ripped from me, rising in volume and pitch as the sensation that threatened to tear me asunder grew. My vision grew hazy and red, surely a foretaste of the hell that awaited me. Wild screams and curses slipped from my lips, imprecations to anyone and everyone, pleas to any god that might conceivably be inclined to listen to strike me dead now, end my suffering. At the very instant my mind seemed to unhinge, to float away on this current of madness, the pain stopped, as if someone had detached me from the world. Only the fading murmur of the witch remained for a moment, ceasing. Her voice reached me again. "...Welcome to the Order, Brother of Uhlrik. Rise and join the Sect once more."
I sat up stiffly, gazing to the woman. Nodding, I looked back to the altar where I had been lying not a minute before. My outline still remained there.... A crust of dried blood, burned into the very surface of the black marble. Lifting my hand to look at it, I saw red... my entire arm was coated in a faint sheen of blood. Curiously, I wiped it away, only to see the cleaned spot be covered with the seeping scarlet liquid once more. A swift inspection of the rest of my armored form revealed the same story. I laughed then, voice disembodied and seeming to echo from the depths of the metal itself.
I had achieved my dream... now I was to inflict nightmares on all those who would oppose the Sect.