Wallmaker
By DaemonAvatar
When the Ninth Gate calls,
Who can resist its summons?
Disclaimer- None of the characters belong to me- sob! ** Hello everybody, I am DaemonAvatar and I am a death knight- at least I think I am. Well, well, well. Here's the story laid out for you, faithful reader. This story covers the time after and before Abhorsen. In and out, Mogget and Touchstone will have flashbacks now and then, outlining the rise of Kerrigor and the fall of the royalty, and the great creation of the charter. Let's start out with the characters- Nick, Sam, Lirael, Sabriel, Mogget (YAY), Kibeth/Dog (BOO), Chlorr (BOO), an unlucky necromancer, and the spirit of Hedge (YAY). In and out there will be comedy chapters, but if you want to skip them, you may. The pairings are a secret! Dead Muse: The pairings are... (Rings mosrael on muse) In this chapter we start out with a fairly experienced necromancer on cloven crest...**
Hedge had been waiting for years, on the very precipice of the ninth gate, his flaming form constantly exhausted by the river's pull. A shard of Orranis was still in him, keeping him alive, giving him strength. The corrosive tang of free magic swam through his body, sustaining him. The bitter magic was consuming him, tearing at the shreds of his existence, yet keeping its feast alive. He was constantly steaming, the water touching his fiery appearance. He could only bring his spirit back to life if someone were to break a charter stone, just one. He would be free from this prison, and free to wreak vengeance upon the great charters who had destroyed him. He thought over this information every day, the free magic whispering the words in his ears, tauntingly. Then one day his prayers were answered. The presence of many fifth-gate drifters vanished, back into the life Hedge cherished so much. With a cry of joy, Hedge jumped free of the precinct, and forged the current back to life...
* * * *
The necromancer slit the throat of a charter mage, her blood flowing in a crimson river. The charter stone on the snowy cap unbound, ripping the charter seams, the binding of the dead, coming apart. This was the first unbinding in three years, this necromancer being the only one powerful enough to break the stones and kill the stone's guard. He felt dead rising joyfully out of their prisons, their spirits drifting, trying to find a body to inhabit. Then came a necromancer's worst nightmare. A being from beyond the eighth gate forded through the stream, one of the great dead, possibly more powerful than Kerrigor, a dead adept who had terrorized the Old Kingdom for two hundred years. Out of the stone came humanoid creature that looked like it had been swathed in oil, cloud, dark flesh burning with an unnatural flame. On a closer look, the being was covered in perverted charter marks, a combination of Charter and free magic. In its hand, it carried a flaming sword, seemingly made of lava. Laser thin whips of fire surrounded the being, searching for something like the antennae of an ant. It found the necromancer. The tendrils reached out for the figure's face, and the man knew for once true terror. The whips injected themselves into the necromancer's body, dragging the petrified man to the Great Dead. The man came closer and closer to the Dead's body until the necromancer's body went through the wall of shadow. Another figure came out of the apparition, taking the dead form with it. This form was a thin balding man who wore red enameled metal armor, reinforced with leather.
"I'm back," said Hedge
* * * *
"There is a mordaut near Nestowe," Sabriel calmly said. "He is killing off the guards and claims to have information about a newly reborn Greater dead. I've also heard rumors about Chlorr, who I highly suspect the mordaut is talking about. I'm sorry Ellimere, but I can't attend your birthday."
"That's not a problem, mum!" Ellimere cried. "If you stop Chlorr, anything is fine."
"I'm rather glad to hear about Chlorr," interjected Sam. "I've created a spelled sword, just to subdue her. The marks on her sword have rather simple counterspells which are on a sheet of parchment in my workshop. All you have to do is go up there and dig them up."
"That's rather complicated charter magic, brother. It might be too dangerous for you," Ellimere said indignantly, who did not like the thought of her baby brother surpassing her.
"I'm the Wallmaker you know," quipped Sam. "And you don't have to be looming over me every second of the day. I'm twenty-two- I can take care of myself."
"Your brother's right," Sabriel conceded. "Just let him do what he wants. It's all his job, as Wallmaker. You're father is coming to say goodbye. Just wait for him. Oh, and he wants to talk to you privately Sam." Ellimere smirked.
Ellimere and Sam sat in their chairs for a while, Sam twiddle his thumbs and Ellimere biting her nails. After a few minutes, Touchstone came in looking at Ellimere and Sam. He looked at Sam sternly and softly (In that dangerous sort of soft) said, "Sam, we need to go to your workshop."
They climbed up the stairs of the turret and finally came to Sam's room. Touchstone took a seat on the bench and wrinkled his nose. "This place reeks of free magic, just as the guards say- what is the meaning of this! Have I raised my son to be some vile necromancer-toymaker hybrid?"
Sam, for the first time in his life was truly angry with his father. He responded coolly, "I was a Wallmaker last time I checked. And if you really want to know, I'm a free magic adept as well as a Charter magic adept. Another thing you might really want to know, father." Sam spat the name. "Free magic is not only useful corrosive, destructive spells- it is also the easiest to use for activation spells. My project is to make charter amulets. These are impossible with charter magic. But with a clay imprint bracelet of Kibeth's collar, and a free magic activation, I have the complete, unabridged charter of Kibeth. So, father, are you as angry now?"
Touchstone said, "I'm sorry Sam. I just don't want you to become like Rogir. Can you forgive me?"
"All is forgiven and more," said Sam, a smile fleeting across his face. "Let's go down now. We just might run into Lirael and Nick from their adventure to Ancelstierre."
Indeed they did. But no one could prepare the family for what they saw next. When Sam and Touchstone stepped off the last step of the spiral staircase, the door opened to reveal a mucky, bloody Nick holding an unconscious equally dirty Lirael. When Nick stumbled into the room, one word escaped his lips before he fell into unconsciousness. "Hedge."
By DaemonAvatar
When the Ninth Gate calls,
Who can resist its summons?
Disclaimer- None of the characters belong to me- sob! ** Hello everybody, I am DaemonAvatar and I am a death knight- at least I think I am. Well, well, well. Here's the story laid out for you, faithful reader. This story covers the time after and before Abhorsen. In and out, Mogget and Touchstone will have flashbacks now and then, outlining the rise of Kerrigor and the fall of the royalty, and the great creation of the charter. Let's start out with the characters- Nick, Sam, Lirael, Sabriel, Mogget (YAY), Kibeth/Dog (BOO), Chlorr (BOO), an unlucky necromancer, and the spirit of Hedge (YAY). In and out there will be comedy chapters, but if you want to skip them, you may. The pairings are a secret! Dead Muse: The pairings are... (Rings mosrael on muse) In this chapter we start out with a fairly experienced necromancer on cloven crest...**
Hedge had been waiting for years, on the very precipice of the ninth gate, his flaming form constantly exhausted by the river's pull. A shard of Orranis was still in him, keeping him alive, giving him strength. The corrosive tang of free magic swam through his body, sustaining him. The bitter magic was consuming him, tearing at the shreds of his existence, yet keeping its feast alive. He was constantly steaming, the water touching his fiery appearance. He could only bring his spirit back to life if someone were to break a charter stone, just one. He would be free from this prison, and free to wreak vengeance upon the great charters who had destroyed him. He thought over this information every day, the free magic whispering the words in his ears, tauntingly. Then one day his prayers were answered. The presence of many fifth-gate drifters vanished, back into the life Hedge cherished so much. With a cry of joy, Hedge jumped free of the precinct, and forged the current back to life...
* * * *
The necromancer slit the throat of a charter mage, her blood flowing in a crimson river. The charter stone on the snowy cap unbound, ripping the charter seams, the binding of the dead, coming apart. This was the first unbinding in three years, this necromancer being the only one powerful enough to break the stones and kill the stone's guard. He felt dead rising joyfully out of their prisons, their spirits drifting, trying to find a body to inhabit. Then came a necromancer's worst nightmare. A being from beyond the eighth gate forded through the stream, one of the great dead, possibly more powerful than Kerrigor, a dead adept who had terrorized the Old Kingdom for two hundred years. Out of the stone came humanoid creature that looked like it had been swathed in oil, cloud, dark flesh burning with an unnatural flame. On a closer look, the being was covered in perverted charter marks, a combination of Charter and free magic. In its hand, it carried a flaming sword, seemingly made of lava. Laser thin whips of fire surrounded the being, searching for something like the antennae of an ant. It found the necromancer. The tendrils reached out for the figure's face, and the man knew for once true terror. The whips injected themselves into the necromancer's body, dragging the petrified man to the Great Dead. The man came closer and closer to the Dead's body until the necromancer's body went through the wall of shadow. Another figure came out of the apparition, taking the dead form with it. This form was a thin balding man who wore red enameled metal armor, reinforced with leather.
"I'm back," said Hedge
* * * *
"There is a mordaut near Nestowe," Sabriel calmly said. "He is killing off the guards and claims to have information about a newly reborn Greater dead. I've also heard rumors about Chlorr, who I highly suspect the mordaut is talking about. I'm sorry Ellimere, but I can't attend your birthday."
"That's not a problem, mum!" Ellimere cried. "If you stop Chlorr, anything is fine."
"I'm rather glad to hear about Chlorr," interjected Sam. "I've created a spelled sword, just to subdue her. The marks on her sword have rather simple counterspells which are on a sheet of parchment in my workshop. All you have to do is go up there and dig them up."
"That's rather complicated charter magic, brother. It might be too dangerous for you," Ellimere said indignantly, who did not like the thought of her baby brother surpassing her.
"I'm the Wallmaker you know," quipped Sam. "And you don't have to be looming over me every second of the day. I'm twenty-two- I can take care of myself."
"Your brother's right," Sabriel conceded. "Just let him do what he wants. It's all his job, as Wallmaker. You're father is coming to say goodbye. Just wait for him. Oh, and he wants to talk to you privately Sam." Ellimere smirked.
Ellimere and Sam sat in their chairs for a while, Sam twiddle his thumbs and Ellimere biting her nails. After a few minutes, Touchstone came in looking at Ellimere and Sam. He looked at Sam sternly and softly (In that dangerous sort of soft) said, "Sam, we need to go to your workshop."
They climbed up the stairs of the turret and finally came to Sam's room. Touchstone took a seat on the bench and wrinkled his nose. "This place reeks of free magic, just as the guards say- what is the meaning of this! Have I raised my son to be some vile necromancer-toymaker hybrid?"
Sam, for the first time in his life was truly angry with his father. He responded coolly, "I was a Wallmaker last time I checked. And if you really want to know, I'm a free magic adept as well as a Charter magic adept. Another thing you might really want to know, father." Sam spat the name. "Free magic is not only useful corrosive, destructive spells- it is also the easiest to use for activation spells. My project is to make charter amulets. These are impossible with charter magic. But with a clay imprint bracelet of Kibeth's collar, and a free magic activation, I have the complete, unabridged charter of Kibeth. So, father, are you as angry now?"
Touchstone said, "I'm sorry Sam. I just don't want you to become like Rogir. Can you forgive me?"
"All is forgiven and more," said Sam, a smile fleeting across his face. "Let's go down now. We just might run into Lirael and Nick from their adventure to Ancelstierre."
Indeed they did. But no one could prepare the family for what they saw next. When Sam and Touchstone stepped off the last step of the spiral staircase, the door opened to reveal a mucky, bloody Nick holding an unconscious equally dirty Lirael. When Nick stumbled into the room, one word escaped his lips before he fell into unconsciousness. "Hedge."