Post by Morec0
(( A prologue of Darkness Rising (Open RP)
Vrem Dartskul and Lady Amanda the Shadowheart – along with their escorts, naturally – had met at the gates of Caer Darrow. From behind the parapets along the walls they were watched by two figures; while Amanda could not make them out all too well, Vrem’s trained eyes noted that one wore brown cloth robes while the other was a troll that dressed like some kind of goblin baron. Both were also undead, of which Vrem approved.
The two groups of undead continued towards the door leading to the House of Barov which Scholomance had been constructed underneath. They were monitored all the way by a third figure; who Vrem could see wore brown cloth armor and carried a sickle with him. Again this one appeared to be undead, confirming for Vrem that whoever it was that had summoned both Lady Shadowheart and himself to this place was much the same. That still, however, did not answer who it was.
They were within five yards the main door to the House Barov – which had seemed to gone under some renovations since last she had seen it a long, long time ago. The broken towers had been addressed with scaffolding, and new blocks of stone had been added atop the old ones, signifying repairs were still in progress. Larger walls of stone had also been added to its sides, sprouting out to the east and west to connect with the walls that formed the third tier of Caer Darrow, walls which were also being added onto.
The keep also seemed to have been enlarged somewhat, it came out further than Lady Shadowheart remembered it doing and the main door was now flanked by a three-story-high-three-meter-long addition with battlements all its own. Caer Darrow had been through a war once, but it seemed like someone was preparing it for another. A rusty creak drew her attention to the main gate – Vrem’s had never strayed from it since they made it this far – and their mysterious benefactor made himself far less mysterious. Vrem scowled.
Morec, House of Rivendare, stepped forward and out of the keep. His armor had been altered from what Vrem had last seen of it; it was red now, but still adorned with skull designs. Spikes came off of the spaulders as did a pair of curved blades, and the great helm tucked under his arm bore horns that matched the spikes on the rest of his armor. And of course; strapped to his back was the massive claymore Armageddon, the same weapon he had wielded since Northrend.
Also attached to him like a piece of armor was a female blood elf wearing blue and black leather and cloth armor. Her blond hair was done up in a pair of ponytails, and her smile was that of a person driven to insanity. She had fully draped herself over him, leaving him to wrap his free left arm around her to literally carry her while her feet left trails in the dirt as the dragged across the ground. She was obviously living, and while that did not surprise Vrem – Morec had… sordid tastes – it disgusted him that she was here at all.
His face was much the same; same glowing-blue eyes, same pale face tinged with green of death, same black hair. He even bore a smile on his rotten-grey jaw that Vrem remembered… wait, no he didn’t. This smile was the same smile, not the smile of a crazed lunatic with a passion of comedy, that he had bore while Vrem and Sithia had traveled with him. This smile was a malicious one, a cunning one, one that Vrem dismissed as part of some pathetic attempt at humor on the death knights part.
He pulled out one of his pistols and pointed it at the death knights exposed forehead. Instantly there was the blade of a katana at his neck, which gave him pause out of shock; something that did not happen often. This man, a character whom he could not identify as being alive or dead, who wore dark cloth armor with a mask and large hat to conceal his face, had managed to approach him without his notice. No one did that, no one could do that. What was the meaning of this?
“Easy,” Morec said, motioning towards the masked swordsman with a few fingers of the hand holding the elf up. “No need to scare off our guests.” The swordsman removed his katana from Vrem’s neck but kept it at the ready.
“Morec, of the House of Rivendare,” Amanda said, glaring at him with glowing eyes through the holes in her cowl. His reputation had proceededd him, as one might expect; unfortunately his reputation was that of a mindless madman who was more bark than bite. “What are you doing here?”
“You couldn’t figure it out?” Morec smiled. “I’m the one who summoned you here. Surprise, surprise! Let the festivities commence!” His grin grew for a second but only a second, something that Vrem also noticed to be off. In the past, at an attempt at humor – and even Vrem could identify humor, if he didn’t appreciate it – like the one Morec had just made he would have burst into a fit of laughter. This… newfound subtlety was strange.
“Explain,” Vrem said, monotone as always.
Morec nodded at the hunter he had used to run with. “With pleasure
. If you would follow me, you’ll need to see what I’m talking about to be able to fully make you decision.” He turned and made his way back towards the fortified manor, Vrem, Amanda, and their respective entourages followed him.
They descended down into Scholomance. The rooms had clearly been adjusted, where once there had been books and experimentation tables in the reliquary now only the books remained, all neatly organized into a personal library that’s shelves filled the whole of the large room. There also seemed to be more tomes than the original owners of the school had managed to acquire, clearly Morec had done some collecting.
“I’ve laid out a library for the use of you and your disciples, Lady Shadowheart,” Morec said as they descended to the floor below and made their way to the hallway leading to the next room. “Much of the information that was originally here still remains, along with some… personal works that the inquiring minds amongst your people might be interested in.”
use?” Amanda repeated, quizzically. “What do you mean by that?”
“Patience,” Morec said, and then went silent. This agitated the Bishop could not express her irritation for lack of facial tissue, and Vrem remained silent and walked. Something had happened to Morec… something that had made him… sane? The thought quaked something deep within Vrem’s soul.
“As you can seen, the Hall of Illusions has remained much the same,” Morec said as they entered the room. “As has the Chamber of Summoning ahead; this room would be perfect for your followers to practice their magics, Lady Shadowheart, while the next one would allow…” He smiled. “Let’s keep this in no uncertain terms; the next room is designed specifically for the experimentation of necromantic magics.”
Amanda was interested at this point. “The Great Ossuary's upper level has been refitted as a training and practice room for your people, Vrem,” Morec explained. “I have yet to give the lower area a purpose, but I believe it would serve as excellent storage for your belongings. As for the hallway we are currently passing through, I belive it can be refitted as housing for both your people.”
“You expect us to relocate our operations?” Amanda exclaimed, her interest instantly fading. She had worked too hard to gain her status in Brill, to simply pack up and leave would undo everything she had worked for to climb the ladder to her ultimate goal.
“No, no, not immediately anyways,” Morec smiled. “But the future holds surprises; you will likely want a place to fall back to at some point."
Vrem looked around. Practice dummies, shooting targets, and… ammunition and armor. Morec had clearly gone through considerable trouble to outfit this place, but why? Why give them a tour? Why explain to them the possibilities of this place? What was he trying to accomplish?
"Now, I’ve left the Viewing Room much the same. It might be useful for education younger followers of both your groups or for dramatic speeches. Either way, I may attempt to refurbish it in the future.” The death knight made his way to the stairs leading to the teir below. “Next,” Morec said, “we have Headmaster’s Chambers-.”
“Get to the point,” Vrem said, monotonely, as always, but it was still clear in his voice that he was growing impatient. “You brought us here for a reason, so get to it or I will take my leave.”
Morec turned around, forcing the blood elf off of him to have her stand on her own, and frowned at Vrem. After a minute of silence between the two, he smiled at the hunter. “Very well, follow me.” He turned and headed towards a door to the left, leading them to what Amanda remembered to be the Laboratory.
It was much the same as before; more tomes, chemical cauldrons, but at the far end of the room there was now a large curtain. Behind it Amanda could feel a tremendous source of… power… Just power. She could not place what it was; shadow, fel, necromantic; but whatever it was, it was clear it was the reason they were here.
“I called you both here because I have plans,” Morec said, continuing to walk towards the curtain, the Necrohunters and Shadowheart Disciples following him. “I have plans for Azeroth the likes of which no one else has attempted yet. I see an Azeroth where freedom is truly freedom, where all people, orcs, humans, living, dead, have the final say in their actions. Where murder, rape, and all other forms of debauchery and violence are merely parts of the lives of all people.”
Half a yard away from the curtain, the swordsman stuck his blade in front of Vrem and Amanda, stopping their advance while Morec continued towards the curtain. “But that dream will have to wait. For the time being I have settled myself into this place for a sole purpose; to gain power. Magic, physical, political, it doesn’t matter. What I need it power, and with your help, with the aid of your organizations, I can get that.”
Amanda was cut off as Morec continued. “Why should you aid me in my endeavors, what will you get out of it?” The death knight smiled, turning to face the two of them. “Because the path to power is paved with the corpses of the weak,” he looked at Vrem, “and when one rises to power, those alongside him to as well,” he looked at Amanda.
“And… how do you intend to gather this power?” Amanda asked. Did he mean what he spoke of? Did he intend to help her rise to the level of authority she wanted; to head of the Church of the Forgotten Shadow? Vrem was equally intrigued, but was mute about it. The possibility for murder, especially if the living were involved, was always at the forefront of his mind, this situation was no different.
The death knight’s smile widened, becoming more and more malicious and continuing to let Vrem know that the Morec that had fought alongside him in Northrend and Gilneas was long gone; that the Morec speaking to him now was some kind of new monster altogether. “With a little mess that the adventurers to last leave this place failed to clean up.” He pulled the curtain away with a gesture and necromantic magic.
Suspended in midair but chains of glowing-green unholy energy was Lilian Voss.
Lilian,” Morec said, walking over to a table and picking up a pair of purple, one-handed runeblades in either hand, “she really didn’t stand a chance. Let her anger and rage at what she had become overtake her, and lashed out at those she had been taught were responsible after slaughtering those she knew had been the cause. Took a while to wake her back up for the second time, and she didn't react pleasantly too it either. Thankfully, treasure-seeking adventurers are a dime-a-dozen these days.”
He set the runeblades back down and turned to the assembled undead. “You see, Lilian here is unlike anything the undead have ever been; she commands a power that I cannot mirror no matter what I try. But I intend for that to change. With the help of your two organizations, I will be able to crack the code surrounding the mystery of Lilian Voss’ powers. Once I've done that, I will have a power at my fingertips unlike anything the world has encountered before.” His gaze shifted to Vrem and then Amanda as he spoke to each of them.
, Vrem; you will gain new allies with skills unlike those of your current underlings. They will assist you in your hunts; they will track down and execute the living with a prejudice and lust for bloodshed few can match. You will be given all the tools and tricks you’ll need to complete your murder sprees, and, most importantly, you will gain a far easier way to bring new members into the fold of undeath; a far easier way to serve the will of your Queen and strengthen the forces of the Forsaken with the dead of their enemies.” The hunter blinked once, slowly.
“And Lady Shadowheart; you
will gain knowledge and power to pass onto your followers as you see fit. You will gain protection against those who might seek to harm you unlike anything you currently possess, and you will gain a true base of operations from which you can fully practice the darkest aspects of your unholy fantasies! But what interests you most is authority, so let me explain this to you; with my help, with the knowledge I gain and the reputation I will build alongside yours, we will be able to set you comfortably upon the seat that will become that of the Archbishop of the Church of Forgotten Shadow.” Amanda’s eyes glowed with anticipation.
“So, what do you say? Will you accept my quest for power; my proposal for slaughter; my gift of authority? Will you and your people join me? Shall we show this world exactly what happens when villains with vision, competence, and power join forces to bring it to its knees? Shall we crush all those who oppose us under our heel?” The grin on his face was mad for a just a second, but not mad as he had been before; mad in a way that he truly meant what he was saying, that he was fully prepared to start this journey, this war maybe, and that those who fought against him would know the full extent of his power as it tore through his bodies.
Vrem Dartskul – marksman, hunters, co-founder and leader of the Necrohunters, and servitor of the Banshee Queen – and Amanda the Shadowheart – Priestess of the Forgotten Shadow, leader of a small army of loyal followers, and ambition-driven seeker for control over an entire church – agreed to Morec’s design.
A dark alliance had been formed.
Gods save all who dare to stand against them.