Old friends.... (Open)

[nazrial]

Wading through the crowded streets for the first time in years stood Nazrial. His cold eyes set upon an old tavern in the corner of the city, a place where his old comrades frequently went to after their shift. He never joined them, never cared enough to speak with them outside battle. To him they were nothing, they may as well have been his enemies rather then his friends, in his mind there was no difference. But now it was different, he wished to get to know them very well.

The door swung open, as the stench of drunkards and homeless crept into his nostrils. No one seemed to notice that he entered which was fine by him, as he was on a mission. Nazrial's eyes peered over the crowd until they sat upon an older looking fellow in the corner. Nazrial calmly walked over to his table, he could smell the alcohol on his breath as he now stood before him, and before the man could look up Nazrial had him by the throat dragging him to his feet. Before anyone in the bar could react, he had dragged him out the door in the back, not before slamming a bar maid to the ground that happened to be in the way.

"Who the hell are you!?" spat the man as he was slammed against the concrete of the building outside. Nazrial's robe flung open and in a flash his curved sword sat in the mans left shoulder pinning him against the building. "Hilthern, it has been a long time," came a voice as wretched as the devils himself. "It can't be...you're dead!" the man answered with a painful voice as he tried to pry the sword from his arm. "Our old captain...the one who knew about the plan to destroy us yet did nothing...a foolish choice mortal." Only now did the man realize it wasn't the cloaked man before him speaking, it was the sword...he knew he was addressing Atharius. "How did you find me, how did you survive you demon!" the man screeched. Nazrial calmly dug through his pocket before revealing a necklace in the shape of a serpent. "We took this from your wife before we sliced her down," Atharias cried with a hint of laughter. Before Hilthern could get but a word, Nazrial placed the necklace around his neck, and with a few choice words the necklace sprang to life hissing inches from Hilthern's face. Nazrial lowered the cloak from around his face and whispered silently into Hilthern's ear," See you in Hell" and with that the necklace tightened around his neck, Hilthern gasped and pleaded for his life but after a few moments he had taken his last breath in this world. Nazrial took his sword from his shoulder and let Hilthern fall to the ground where he would let him rot. He fixed his cloak about himself once more before re-entering the busy streets mumbling to himself "One down, many to go."

[The Gravelord Requiem]

Peering through the darkness that surrounded every turn within the scarcely lit, nighttime streets, the subtle, icy-blue hue of my gaze flickers within the encroaching blackness as i focus on the figure of Nazrial. A slight chuckle escapes my jaw, echoing throughout the dankly-lit, and barren back allies.

"Foolish child," I whisper, my voice seemingly flowing past the man's ears as a chill wind. "Such impetuous and careless actions, it almost makes me wonder what my accomplice sees in you," I say with a deliberate tone of mockery. "But allow me to clean up your "mess" before I continue," I resume berating as the ground fissures slightly underneath the corpse of Hilthern, consuming him in a emerald-green glow before closing and leaving nothing of the man behind.

"Now then, I've taken it upon myself to seek you out, with the overarching goal of bringing you back to my accomplice so that they can meet you. So, are you be a good little servant and acquiesce to my command, or shall I have to use my "diplomacy" to conduct you otherwise?" I inquire with a malicious chuckle from surrounding shadows.

[nazrial]

Nazrial paused in mid stride upon hearing the unfamiliar voice from behind. He let out a sigh before turning around to face the man, and then Atharius spoke, “You ignorant little-“ before it could finish it’s sentence Nazrial slammed the sword into the ground, a dark energy started to flow about it. “Strong words, backed up by a cheap display of trickery. It really is a wonder how insolent minions have become,” Nazrial spat with a malicious tone. Nazrial’s voice was nothing like Atharius’, he spoke in a smarter tone, thinking before speaking, yet still the tone had a hint of terror associated with it. Nazrial’s fingers glided about the hilt of his sword, allowing for a hasty draw if the situation called, and also a hint of mockery showing the figure that he wasn’t worthy enough to have his weapon drawn against him.

“Choose your next words carefully, as they may be your last. If you have followed me you undoubtedly know that I have a problem with authority, Hilthern can vouch for that. If you are not an aid to my campaign you are but a twig and shall be cut down as such. Tell your “master” that if he wishes to speak with me then he shall do it himself, and not send a lowly minion to do his bidding. If my threats have meant nothing to you then I will have no choice but to give you the honour of having your blood spilt upon my sword. Now begone if you have any sense,” Nazrial warned the figure, with every intention of cutting him down where he stood. He could feel Atharius’ rage and desire to kill creep through him, and it was becoming more and more tempting as the conversation went on…

[The Gravelord Requiem]

"Silence!" I shout out in a ghostly wail, my temper raised at the man's belittling responses. "I'm no minion, and I serve no master, and you'd best watch your tongue, boy, lest I be forced to fell you right here for such insolence!"

In my angered outburst, I summon several skeletal servants to surround the man before I appear before him in a burst of emerald-green fire, my piercing gaze bearing down upon him as the air around me chills until becoming thick with frost.

"As for your pointless taunts, I have already sung my last words in one of those pathetic, mortal, bags of flesh, so save your "honor," for I have no blood to be spilt, you pathetic churl. And further more, I am no authoritarian, knave, but rather judge, jury and executioner for this disgusting mortal world. I am the Lord of the Undead, and if you decide to let your impetuous nature continue to lead your words and actions, then you shall soon find me as your Lord as well..." I say with a threatening and malicious tone, my affectless glare focused on Nazrial as my skeletal fingers wrap themselves into a bony fist.

[nazrial]

Nazrial’s eyes never left Taggert, even the skeletal soldiers didn’t seem to bother him. Although Atharius gave him the urge to kill, Nazrial was painfully aware that a victory here was not certain. These thoughts weighed heavily on his mind, but he would not give Taggert the satisfaction of knowing it. He had not recovered completely from long ago and there was still much to do, and much to conquer.

Nazrial stepped towards Taggert so he could face this “thing” that called himself the Lord of the Underworld. “If you were judge, jury, and executioner of this world then you would already be the ruler of it, not just of the Underworld as you claim. As much I would like to continue this pointless exchange of threats that would undoubtedly end in your bones being ground to dust, there is a reason you came for me. Now out with I before both of our tempers run out.” Nazrial said angrily. Nazrial’s hand clenched to his sword at this point, knowing he may need it at any second…

[The Gravelord Requiem]

"You talk big for such a small man, gripping that blade of yours, white knuckled, as if it would do anything should you use it," I mock in retort to the armoured-man's hollowed threats. "And don't talk to me like were equals, mortal, for such a concepts is laughable. I've no need to explain anything to you, for you are just a pawn wanted by my associate, and I've no need for such a useless fleshing, such as yourself, when I command the very legions of the Underworld themselves." I say with a tone of apathy towards the man's curt demands, turning to my side and placing my hand on the chilled stone wall, causing it to rupture forth with a portal of eerie green light.

"If you want to know more, then do as I've commanded of you and follow me. Whether you do so matters not to me, but the one that summoned you might not be too pleased with your absence, and they possess a rather malicious determination to get what they want..." I finish before outstretching my arm and motioning towards the swirling green portal.

[nazrial]

Nazrial's temper was running thin, "This fool is going on for too long, he is going to ruin everything!" he thought to himself as he peered towards potential routes of escape. At that moment his fear became a reality, distant screams could be heard in the distance steadily approaching closer as time passed on. Someone must have alerted the authorities about the incident in the bar, and he was supposed to be far away from this place. As much as he hated it, this freak that got him into this mess was also presenting a way out, and he was not ready to face the forces of Nerezza...not yet. He knew what he had to do.

Nazrial unsheathed the sword from the ground and placed it back at his side. He walked towards the portal that the lich created and then paused, turning his devil's glare to meet the lich's eyes. "I talk out of experience lich, and you do not want to be at the other end of that road. You say you have no need for useless fleshling's as you are all powerful, yet here you are doing another's bidding without fail to locate my whereabouts." A smile creeps upon Nazrial's face, heeding the lich a warning as much as it is mocking. "It seems to me lich, you are as much a pawn as i am by your standards. Guess we are equal after all," he spats as a maniacal laugh rings through the alley. Nazrial didn't wait around to hear what the lich had to say to his statement, because frankly he didn't care. He had wasted too much time and the distant screams were almost to them. He tightened his cloak around himself again adjusting it around his face to hide his identity, before stepping into the green portal...

[cloaked]

A nearly pitch black room awaited Nazrial beyond Taggert's portal. Save for the soft eerie glow of the portal and a candle-lit chandelier that made out a large elegant table there was nothing the normal eye could perceive. On the far end of the table opposite the portal a figure blanketed by cloth and shadows hung back, smiling gleefully as Nazrial slipped inside.

"Good day to you Nazrial. I was so hoping you would find cause to join me for a talk. Please, take a seat, won't you?" A soft voice as sweet as honeydew sang through the dark room as a chair closest to Nazrial pulled itself from the table. A haunting touch, but it was the little things that gave presence to a moment like this.

[nazrial]

Nazrial stepped out of the green portal into the dark room. He peered about noticing the table lit by the dim glow of the chandelier. The voice he heard came out of nowhere, as if it pierced the night itself. "This is a waste of my time, I didn't come back to get tossed around like a rag doll," he thought to himself as his eyes tried to fix on the one speaking. "Do not flatter yourself, us meeting is a mere coincidence in a bigger idea. Regardless I am fine standing, I will not be tempted to relax in the current circumstances. Now I am done with the pleasantries, what is the purpose you have sent the "guard dog", the lich, to find me."

Altharius grew tired with the amount of conversations they were having that day. Kill....kill....thats what it really wanted, and the murder of Hilthern earlier that day only made it thirst for more. "We grow tired of the parlor tricks, show yourself if you want anything at all in return," he spat in a blood thirsty fury.

[cloaked]

"Oh but you couldn't be more wrong dear Nazrial. Or should I call you The Juggernaut?" A strong male voice now spoke to the left of the table. The voice moved through the shadows as it continued. "You were found because I have need of you. We had need of you. And like us, you have goals that need fulfilling. Plots that need completing, and it never hurts to have an extra set of hands at your aid, does it?" His words danced around the topic at hand with a playful tone. He was eager to pique Nazrial's interest first.

The voice neared Nazrial, staying just shy of the portal's unearthly glow. "We propose an alliance. Our goals need muscle, and yours require information. Names. Locations. These lie at our fingertips, and they can all be yours in exchange for your services. Are you...enticed yet?" A small chuckle escaped from his lips.

[Magnar Valsworth]

In the heat of the discussion, A tall, slender anthropomorphic wolf stepped through the portal, and looked around, seemingly unamused. He was dressed in fine clothes, and his silky black hair reached his waist. He looked around, seeing the dimly lit room, with a human yelling at a mysterious figure in the background.

Magnar's curiousity had gotten the best of him, at seeing a random portal in the midst of the street. Portals were a common thing in Mageia, but in this world, they were something he had not seen a lot of.

He didn't seem to care if he was interrupting something he wasn't invited to- he simply took a seat at the table and waved a hand at the two figures. "Carry on. I do hope I haven't missed anything of great importance." He said.

[cloaked]

The man's attention diverted from Nazrial to the unexpected guest that had arrived. Catching only a passing glimpse of his figure it was Magnar's snout that caught his eye. He smiled with relief and thought to himself, Now we need only Taggert to return.

"Good of you to join us Magnar." The man turned back to his present agenda. "Nazrial, Magnar here is a master of the dark arcane arts. He is perhaps one of the most skilled and merciless wizards I have seen in this world. If you join us, he too could be of service to your cause."

[The Gravelord Requiem]

"You waste my talents and my time, requesting that I bring forth such pathetic and piteous examples. You'd best hold well to your word, or I'll be all to elated but free myself from your presence." I call from the darkness of the room before making my entrance in the burst of necrotic flames; my skeletal visage shifting forth from the glowing emerald hue. With a flowing motion of my hand followed by its abrupt stop, the portal crackles and implodes until none would know it had ever existed.

Flicking at my garbs, as if removing some offending material from it, I trudge towards the table, unamused by the seeming sorry lot of churls and inbreed filth that seem to litter the former quaint and quite lair I had come to inhabit.

Giving my hand a quick flick, the floor close to the table fissures, bringing forth a throne of sundered bones with which I quickly sit upon; all to pleased that I might fashion something so proper for one of my status, having looked at the egregious dreck, that surrounds the table, so eloquently refereed to as "chairs."

Rapping my boney fingers upon the tables surface, I pan my affectless face across to look across, meeting my eyes with the beast-like character on the other side. I scoff loudly, not so much at him, but at all that lie within the chamber, before averting my attention, letting my mind wander throughout my own machinations and malevolent ploys.

[cloaked]

"Clamp your jaw Taggert. You will conduct your orders with some dignity, and not as a contemptible child!" The man roared viciously with a sudden change in his tone. His gaze followed the lich throughout his actions, deciding only let his argumentative ally go for a moment. After all, he would only enjoy his arrogance so long.

"Do please ignore dear Taggert. As a man who threw away his humanity he is both our strongest, and most pitiful ally. Be not offended that he deems you weak." The man chuckled to himself.

[nazrial]

Nazrial stood, surveying the puppet show that was playing before him. "Odd creatures, creatures I have not witnessed before, what a strange coincidence," he thought to himself, his eyes studying each person before him. As much as he hated to admit, he was running a suicide mission and he wasn't quite sure if he would even succeed when he started, he isn't familiar with this time as he was away for so long...perhaps he could use the help.

Nazrial's sword raged from within his mind..."Kill them, kill everything that stands in our way!" Nazrial shook his head, trying to ignore the urge of what the sword was making him feel. He knew better then to try and swing blindly, especially in the wolf's den. "Alright you win for now, I see the cast of this play, now are you going to tell me my role in all of this or what?"