The Deliverer
The etheral shroud twirled in anger. Like a twisting tempest, it bellowed in fury. The gods of Chaos were displease. Nothing could explain the magnitude of their fury and anger. And while the daemons shriek in pain and fearwithin the shroud itself. Lord Archaon continued to rally the dispersed tribes south from the fiery of the Chaos Gods, hoping to appease their temper.
But the Gods had a plan, they were not ready to give up their ambitions and their new found sense of unity with each other....
Beyond the turmoil of the Old World, far north east into the desolate lands, north of Cathay and Nippon, came a beckoning to a maurader.
"Wake Up... Wake up young one.." echoed the chilling spidery call, with a daemonic accent to it.
The young Maurader, no more than 28 Summers woke with fright. Afraid and Unsure, he came out of his nomadic tent to search for the occurance of the voice. Never in his warrior years have he felt fear like he has felt now. Fear so powerful, it ensures submission. It was an eerie cold night, but the daemonic call sent a painful sear down the maurader's heart. He obeyed the unknown force, following the voice where it sounded more intense.
And so he walked, till he approached the top of a ridge about 500 paces away from his tribe's camp.
"Approach thee, for thy master is here" said the voice, echoeing the same phrase repeatedly, before the language became unrecognisable to the young barbarian. Like a daemonic incantation that seems like a fluid frightening poetry, it was subtle but caused banging burst of pain to the young maurader. The spidery daemon incantation echoed throughout, as if it could be heard from the ends of the earth, announcing the coming of chaos. The tearing pain was to intense for the young barbarian and as Chaos gripped him like that of a vice to the heart, his mind lost itself into the depths of the infernal that was forged by pure chaos.
Imagine a world of no logic, of no sanity, a world of incomprehensible chaos and utter damnation to overbearing for the feeble mind to even understand. Beyond eternity, beyond all, his soul tore apart by the sheer power of chaos as a dark abyss warped in front of him, followed by a radiant blast of silencing black darkness. His mind was wasted. Permanent Insanity was probably the only thing that save him from eternal implosion of the true essence of Chaos.
He gnawed at his tongue, choking himself and thrashed his head on the ground, while he scratched the coarse rocks with his fingernails incessantly, hoping it would ease away the pain.
The dark rift between Chaos and the realm of the maurader clashed like crushing tidal waves upon each other. It made the maurader shed of all his hair, while his skin turned pallad and rock hard.
Consumed in damnation by the daemonic essence, the maurader was not like he was before, vile torns scream for life through his skin, and as he stood down, lowered in submission.
A dark figure, clad in ebony black armor loomed over the Maurader. The newfound master had come to him. He was 7 feet tall, his horned helm dark and simple, ebony ivory tusk were embedded on the helm as the horns themselves. His eyes, amber like, while the helm hideaway his face, casting only a silouette of mindless hatred . his hulky armor was as heavy as 2 minotaurs yet, he dawned it with ease. His movement as fluid as the elves. There he stood, and there he gazed upon the young disciple given to him by the Gods.
Without emotion, he spoked, "Arise Child of Chaos. arise and aid me in fulfilling the prophesy...."
The Masters amber eyes burned bright as the young barbarian looked up upon him.
"...For i am the Deliverer. The Deliverer of the End".
But the Gods had a plan, they were not ready to give up their ambitions and their new found sense of unity with each other....
Beyond the turmoil of the Old World, far north east into the desolate lands, north of Cathay and Nippon, came a beckoning to a maurader.
"Wake Up... Wake up young one.." echoed the chilling spidery call, with a daemonic accent to it.
The young Maurader, no more than 28 Summers woke with fright. Afraid and Unsure, he came out of his nomadic tent to search for the occurance of the voice. Never in his warrior years have he felt fear like he has felt now. Fear so powerful, it ensures submission. It was an eerie cold night, but the daemonic call sent a painful sear down the maurader's heart. He obeyed the unknown force, following the voice where it sounded more intense.
And so he walked, till he approached the top of a ridge about 500 paces away from his tribe's camp.
"Approach thee, for thy master is here" said the voice, echoeing the same phrase repeatedly, before the language became unrecognisable to the young barbarian. Like a daemonic incantation that seems like a fluid frightening poetry, it was subtle but caused banging burst of pain to the young maurader. The spidery daemon incantation echoed throughout, as if it could be heard from the ends of the earth, announcing the coming of chaos. The tearing pain was to intense for the young barbarian and as Chaos gripped him like that of a vice to the heart, his mind lost itself into the depths of the infernal that was forged by pure chaos.
Imagine a world of no logic, of no sanity, a world of incomprehensible chaos and utter damnation to overbearing for the feeble mind to even understand. Beyond eternity, beyond all, his soul tore apart by the sheer power of chaos as a dark abyss warped in front of him, followed by a radiant blast of silencing black darkness. His mind was wasted. Permanent Insanity was probably the only thing that save him from eternal implosion of the true essence of Chaos.
He gnawed at his tongue, choking himself and thrashed his head on the ground, while he scratched the coarse rocks with his fingernails incessantly, hoping it would ease away the pain.
The dark rift between Chaos and the realm of the maurader clashed like crushing tidal waves upon each other. It made the maurader shed of all his hair, while his skin turned pallad and rock hard.
Consumed in damnation by the daemonic essence, the maurader was not like he was before, vile torns scream for life through his skin, and as he stood down, lowered in submission.
A dark figure, clad in ebony black armor loomed over the Maurader. The newfound master had come to him. He was 7 feet tall, his horned helm dark and simple, ebony ivory tusk were embedded on the helm as the horns themselves. His eyes, amber like, while the helm hideaway his face, casting only a silouette of mindless hatred . his hulky armor was as heavy as 2 minotaurs yet, he dawned it with ease. His movement as fluid as the elves. There he stood, and there he gazed upon the young disciple given to him by the Gods.
Without emotion, he spoked, "Arise Child of Chaos. arise and aid me in fulfilling the prophesy...."
The Masters amber eyes burned bright as the young barbarian looked up upon him.
"...For i am the Deliverer. The Deliverer of the End".
posted by Jiaqi at
7:42 PM
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