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Never Forgive... Never Forget... [Salzem]

Started by Codex, June 12, 2017, 04:22:55 PM

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Codex

The winds of the expansive desert continued to whip violently as the sand filled air swirled with anticipation. Nothing could really be seen or heard at this hour other than the chorus of the desert, and the thunderous sounds it made as it claimed its territory. However, it wasn't as barren as it looked...

In the distance, a figure walked through the sand, seemingly unphased by the conditions nature had set about. No.. This figure had a purpose. And nature cannot stop anything that has a purpose. This figure was revealed to be a rather young looking woman, trekking across the dune as the sun's faded glimpse shone down on her through the fog of the storm. She wore very little to protect herself from the harsh sandstorm, except a hood and cloak. The storm, however, would be of little concern for long. She climbed one particular dune to witness what she was looking for not far ahead... Poking out of the sand were various old stone structures, half submerged by the desert. An old tomb. One of many. However, there was something in particular about this one that had caught the woman's interest... And she couldn't help but check it for herself.

After some short inspection, she found a large ruined entrance leading into the depths of the tomb. Some dark power residing deep within. Not showing any fear, the girl stepped inside the old ruins and slowly walked down the steps to its darkness. She could feel the power surging through the ruins, something dark.. Something evil... Something almost akin to her own. She had first felt it when her minions failed to return. They must have stirred something in its slumber. Her hands would trace along the edges of the walls, carefully observing the carvings and trying to piece together who's tomb this was. She wouldn't be curious for much longer, however. Whatever was here, was very close. With the doors to a rather large chamber opened, the woman stepped out in a cloud of black mist enveloping her feet... Waiting for whatever the source of this power was to reveal itself.

Salzem

Embalmus sat in the throne overlooking the main chamber of Samara's crypt... Or what once was her crypt... It was all he had left of his master besides his very existence... She had left him here... in this foreign dimension with nothing but his weapons and servants... alone... He suspected even his soul wouldn't go back to Samara if he "died"... She had no dominion here any longer and the distance to her was too great... The supposed gods of this place would get to him first and only they would know what would happen to him... Embalmus couldn't be afraid of that fate... He wasn't designed for fear. He was a hardened, masterful general of Samara's armies and he would hold this spot for her until she brings in reinforcements!

YES! That must've been it! Why else would she leave her most powerful and loyal servant to this dominion-forsaken hell-hole? Why else would she leave him in such an orderless environment? No doubt she had returned to her dimension with plans to reconquer it and only he could be trusted to look over her only grip here! Yes... Yes... It all made sense now... The master was wise.....

Embalmus' glowing green eyes fell on the door to the main room as dark mist spilled in, the jackle's face turning into an annoyed snarl. She reeked of this world's pitiful excuse for necrotic magics... This being that walked in... Immediately enraged him... She dared to walk into Samara's tomb for one thing... then DARE to dress like she's part of her covenant? What an arrogant mortal!

"You're either very brave or very stupid, morta-.... Wait..." Embalmus stared into the woman's eyes from his seat high above, glaring down at her at the head of the stairs that lead up to him. "You're not like the others... undead or mortal... You're something else..." The jackel reached around and tossed something at the woman's feet. If she looked down, she would find it to be the severed head of one of her servants. "I assume that's yours... You very well might end up the same if I will it fore you see... your life, as it has been, is over."

Without even a gesture, bones exploded from the sandy ground at the base of the entrances to the chamber, blocking the doors with constructs of such magic... it could be compared to Samara's.... though never in his life would he presume to do so. He rose from his chair, his staff in one hand, his whip in the other and a curved crescent-like sword strapped at his side.

"Kneel, creature of flesh and I may make you into something useful."

Codex

What awaited the woman when she entered? Certainly nothing she had been expecting. Sitting at the other end of the chamber, high on what looked like a throne, was a gigantic being that bore the body of a man, but the head of a Jackal... She stared at him with her dark violet eyes for a few moments, trying to process what she was seeing. Even for a world filled with magic, and for being around as long as she had, she was certain this wasn't anything she had witnessed before. And then it spoke.

With its voice came the cold, familiar embrace of death... Her long forgotten parent. Suddenly she was reminded why she had come in the first place. She had been looking for a source, and here it was. She couldn't help but frown at his vocal observation. Was her curse really that obvious? However, her train of thought was suddenly shattered when the sand exploded behind her. She turned to witness the doorway now sealed with what looked like bones.... Impressive. So this being too, was indeed a necromancer. The woman turned back to the Jackal and slowly removed her hood, revealing her face.

Then the being threw something to her. She looked down with a deep frown to see the head of one of her minions. This action confirmed her suspicions. She slowly knelt down to pick it up, and observed the skull closely. And then the Jackal said something else.... It told her to kneel?

She simply looked back up at the monster with her hollowed eyes and frowned. Soon, her own aura began to expand. The cold winds of death began to circulate the chamber as her fist clenched and the skull in her hand shattered. No... She would never kneel to anyone. She was her own master, and this Jackal just threatened her.

"Only slaves kneel..." She spoke finally. Soon, the entire chamber rumbled and out of the sand rose dozens of skeletal soldiers. Some belonging to the ruin, others she had created out of the air. "I am no slave.."

Salzem

The Jackal's mouth curled up into a sinister grin as the woman stood up and defied him, her poultry aura of dead almost amusing... She knew not what death was... But soon... soon she would...

"Not a Slave...? Not now, perhaps... But soon." Embalmus rose from his throne using his staff as support, glaring down at the bug that considered herself a free-woman. Nothing under Embalmus' control was free... Nothing under his control would spout such arrogance. To further display her over-confidence, the woman summoned a small battalion of undead soldiers from the sands beneath, some he recognized as dead he'd used before... others were in far better shape. None came with weapons and armor as far as he could se, strangely however... Perhaps she wasn't advanced enough in her supposed art to command them to take up arms. In response, he lightly tapped the end of his staff on the floor, a pulse of necrotic energy blasting across the ground towards her. The wave would merely pass her by, no damage done but if she looked down... She'd see the earth had taken a purple, sickly tone... The air seemed ripe with the smell of rotting, darkness seeming to expand and grow darker from every shadow. Undead rose steadily on Embalmus' side, massive skeletal dogs, even larger corpses of giants, all surrounded with fully armed soldiers from his home dimension, their bodies just as capable as when they were alive. In a matter of seconds, The Jackal's army outnumbered hers, at least 4 of his to every 1 of hers. How tempting it would be wipe her little servants clean with his whip... but he wasn't feeling to proactive today... Lathargic almost... Must be this new dimension... Bah... Everything here was backwards...

And so, Embalmus slumped down in his throne, the tip of his staff beginning to be enveloped in a strange white mist... Her undead as well... a strange mist would begin flowing from them and into the jackal's staff... due to his soul-drain. While he couldn't rip out souls instantly, he could over time and the more she summoned, the healthier Embalmus got... It would take a little bit before her skeletons became merely bones once again, but in the mean time...

With a snap of his fingers, A long line of skeletons stepped ahead of the rest, massive tower-shields hiding the rest of his army (besides the giants of course), long spikes protruding from everywhere upon their faces. A wall now stood between the woman and the Jackal... How indeed would she cope...?

Codex

She did not move. She did not blink. She did not even acknowledge the army of undead this creature had summoned to oppose her. She simply stared at him with the same empty look. Someone who was truly hollow... Fear had abandoned her eyes long ago. An impressive display, to say the least. But a display was all it was. She could feel the necrotic energy flowing through these beings, and judged it. They all lacked something crucial to their construct... Heart. While her own warriors were little more than mindless husks, her energy gave them purpose. This woman's respect and love for her own creations gave their undead lives meaning. Sure they were still slaves to her will, but they didn't mind. And nature cannot stop anything with a purpose. She was just surprised to see this creature had not sensed it before...

"Where are you from?" She asked, breaking the tense silence. The woman did not wait for a response before slowly walking forward, her eyes still trained on him. She ignored the size of his army, for as she walked, death followed her aura. An aura that expanded slightly, and would begin to manipulate the warriors around her. "More specifically, how long have you isolated yourself in these ruins, my friend?" She said in the same cold tone... Her voice echoed throughout the chamber. The skeletal monsters would shudder at her pass, and not make any move to stop her. "Has this place blinded you to the power beyond?"

Salzem

The woman didn't seem afraid that she was staring down a legion and a god among her people on top of that... She only stared blankly, almost as brain-dead as the undead in this room. Embalmus seemed almost amused as she continued to walk forward, threatening to impale herself on the spikes of the shields that stood before her. Embalmus would laugh at that... Maybe even revive her and encourage her to do it again, just arrogantly walk into his shields like she had a point to make. Sadly and much to the Jackal's disappointment, she merely stopped before the spikes touched her stomach and chest, staring up at him with that same dead glare.

Embalmus glared down at her as she began to bombard him with questions such as his place of origin, calling him her "friend" as she dug for information. What kind of fool did she think he was, thinking she could ask him anything in his own dominion? For those reasons alone, she deserved to be devoured by the starving dead.

"The only thing I'll tell you is this, living meat: You will be devoured and risen to serve me." With that new, undead arose around the woman in a half circle, creatures that looked obviously human, but with their flesh rotting and moans escaping from their mouths... Zombies. These creatures were more complex than the last and wouldn't be so easily killed OR manipulated from this being as their existence depends on her flesh... They need it... they hunger for it... and they won't be controlled. They lumbered at the woman hungrily, hands grasping, teeth gnashing, guts, blood and spittle dribbled behind in the sand as they closed the distance.

Codex

So he was unwilling to speak to her? This being couldn't even bring itself to talk, instead it preferred to use childish gestures of raising the dead to kill her. Primitive. The woman simply sighed at this action. Without saying anything else, or even moving, a circular shape erupted in the sand around her. Suddenly, several white spikes rose instantly out of the sand and impaled the zombies reaching for her. The spike appeared to be made from bones. They did not kill the undead, rather just keep them suspended in the air far away from the woman. With that, she'd continue walking forward, stopping next to one of the pikes. With a small gesture, the pike turned into ash, as well as the soldier holding it, creating a small person sized opening in the shield wall. She walked through it, closer to the Jackal headed man.

"Your voice brims with confidence... But I can't help but hear... Sadness." She said again, her face remaining dead. "Something has happened to you.. I can sense it. Sorrow has kept you in this place... Otherwise you would've thought twice about attempting to make me a servant with my own children..." As she walked through his army, the undead near her would not make any move to attack. They simply watched her intently, as she traced through the sands. "Trust me... I can sense a vengeful spirit from miles away... You have much left unfinished..."

Salzem

Embalmus watched with minor amusement as the woman summoned spikes of her own to impale the zombies he had summoned, hardly doing any real damage to them in terms of killing power. Instead, she merely stalled her oncoming doom. Even her own soldiers refused to advance with her, so confident was she... It was almost charming in a way... Like how a monkey would learn to juggle or a parrot would learn to talk... This pathetic rodent of a creature had such confidence in herself, it almost made him want to lock her up in a box the way these people do with their... pets.

"Much like the rest of your backwards realm..." Embalmus interrupted before she could complete her thought on sadness. "Your observations are shallow and lack an anchor in reality." The Jackal rested his staff in his lap and raised a hand, a massive skeletal claw erupting from the ground around her feet, throwing skeletons this way and that, but none seemed to care... Puppets couldn't care if their heads were taken off. Massive skeletal fingers clamped down on the woman, holding her in place with the whole hand seeming to cover up all but her upper shoulders, head and feet. She could try as she might... pour as much magic and vigor as she could into the construct and it wouldn't make a dent... This was a manifestation of Embalmus' magical ability granted to him by the goddess Samara! He was the Grave-Keeper, an amalgam of the perfection and power of all dead! This woman...? She was a mere fiddler in the arts.

Raising his arm higher, an arm manifested from the sand as well, forcing the woman into the air at least several feet and the majority of this arm had yet to be revealed.

"A creature such as you... so imperfect with all your worthless flesh and meaningless organs knows nothing of true undead. You are but an ant, one of the many I will crush on my warpath against your puny, worthless race of living skin and bone. As for your power, I will devour it and add it to my own and use the shell as a foot-soldier in my armies. I will make this world in the image of the goddess Samara and your flesh will be its foundation." With that, dark energies began to surge up the skeletal hand, necrotic bolts of electricity licking her body in an effort to convert her to the dead. 

Codex

Before the being even reacted to her words however, she was met with another test. Out of the sand below her feet rose a massive skeletal hand, quickly clamping around her body to keep her in place. She had to admit, this was unexpected and had taken her by surprise. With a sudden jerk, the skeletal figure rose her off the ground and suspended her several feet in the air. Hanging there, seemingly at this being's mercy. She said nothing, and did nothing to escape. After all, why would she? Even for all his power and confidence, she knew her curse would counter any attempt he made at her life. He was naive, but she'd let him discover that for himself.

Her thoughts were only confirmed with the nonsense he spouted out at her as she hung in the air in front of him. As if he had any idea who she was or what she was capable of.  However that's when he mentioned something that caused her head to tilt slightly. A name. Samara? She couldn't  place it, but it was obvious this must've been the cause for his grief. The grief he tried so hard to hide, perhaps that's what clouded his judgement to her form. A goddess he worshiped, and was probably crafted by. Sadly though... She was never coming back....

"And like a child grasping at straws, you lack the sense or knowledge to accomplish this goal..." She said in her usual, cold, flat tone. Staring straight at him as the necrotic energy began to tickle her skin. As it did, she shifted her neck uncomfortably, gritting her jaw as the energy seeped into her skin. Flashes of magic appeared inside her cheeks, briefly displaying her skull as it did. But it did not last long... The woman gave an uncomfortable sigh, drooping her head as she breathed slowly. His magic was strong, but her curse was infinite. His attempt to turn her was nothing more than a painful sensation. She hung there for a moment, completely silent as her long black hair drooped in front of her face. However, the effect soon wore off. And then something else began to occur...

Near the base of the hand on the ground, new energy began to rise. This magic appeared black, and reeked of death. It slowly circulated the skeletal arm until the whole thing began to tremble. Soon the white of the bony hand began to fade slightly into a sickly grey... And then pitch black. ANd with a sudden burst of magical power, it exploded, shattering into a formless mist, evaporating into the air as the woman fell to the ground in a crouch. The magic he attempted to turn her with still left traces on her body as it flashed through her skin like bolts of electricity, but it was obvious by this point it did little but cause her discomfort. She'd slowly turn her head back to him and show her face, the effects of her curse working across her skin.

"I'm sorry, but like I said before. I am no slave...." And with that, his entire army began to tremble at her voice. The black mist returning to consume them... Until the entire chamber was nothing but what it used to be... A graveyard.... Her aura was sickly and growing as it infected the entire area.  "And you my friend... Are far from the only death user in this realm... Some of us have lived in its shadow for their entire existence..." She said, a flash of energy crossing her face to reveal her skull for a mere moment...

Salzem

Embalmus cocked his head to the side as the woman stated that he was "grasping at... straws...?" What was a straw...? He didn't have straws where he came from. They had... grass. And mud... What was this straw...? He didn't know, but by her tone, he assumed she meant to insult him. The undead merely smirked and tightened his grip on her, her body starting to squeeze out of the ends like some kind of putty. The undead had to concept of what a "child" was either... In his dimension, there was not living and no need to grow. Everyone was dead and the dead were made at their peek potential right off the bat... Why waste time being weak and pathetic after all?

Embalmus smirked as the woman managed to break herself free of the undead claw that encompassed her, the majority of it's arm turning black and sick before fading away into dust. Not even necromancy and more of a minor spell... It honestly made him rather sick how she attempted to pass herself off as a competent mage of any kind with a spell of such... simplicity. It was what she said next that halted him. No, not what she said but how she said it. Her declaration that she was not a slave made the undead pause, his glowing eyes widening in shock as someone else stood there before him.... in the woman's place was a tan, revealing woman in golden wrappings, her cool intellectual smile beaming across her face as she raised a finger, almost beckoning him her way.

"M... my lady...?" The jackal whispered, rising from the throne. However, as he shifted perspective, the illusion dissipated, and all that stood there was that other woman, equally as brazen with her wardrobe but only half the being Samara was. It was true... the woman he worshiped was gone and it haunted him... One couldn't imagine the pain of a being built to serve being separated from his master... and with such an impossible distance between them... The woman who's feelings he would never be able to share at his own detriment... And her energy... She couldn't break Embalmus but... her magic... it felt so much like hers... It almost compelled him to kneel...

As his eyes adjusted to reality, Embalmus snorted, refusing to acknowledge what he'd just said. Hopefully, this... impersonator didn't see his momentary weakness.

"Get out of my crypt." The undead hissed, pointing at the door she came in with his staff. At the same moment, the bones blocking the entrance sunk back into the sand, allowing her a way out. "I will not ask you again."

Embalmus never would let someone so INSULATE walk out of Samara's tomb the way she is, a free thinking individual! He never would take these kinds of insults from a fleshy female like her! But this wasn't Embalmus talking... not fully... When he looked down at her... when he felt her magics... it made him want to cry with relief but also boil with anger. It WAS Samara... but it wasn't... it was so confusing... His design demanded he bow down and serve her but his will knew what she wasn't his master. BAH! One could almost see his muscles shaking as he fought himself... the being he was... and the being he is.

Codex

And like the shadows of those she had encountered before, the being in front of her realized something. About her? No... Something far more interesting lied behind those souls. The woman could only watch with intent as his facial expression changed slightly. He was no longer the sneering, overconfident Jackal she'd been met with before, now he was... Trembling? She could sense his heart beat rise with anticipation... Feel the blood in his veins pump... The feeling was odd. His attitude towards her had shifted drastically. As if he saw an entirely different person...

And then he said something. A mere whisper, but she was able to pick it up. He saw another woman in herself, and asked "My Lady?"

This confirmed it... He saw who she could only assume the being named Samara in herself. However, the feeling didn't last long. Soon the Jackal's shifted mind returned back to reality, and he commanded her to leave... At this she couldn't help but smile...

"My friend... You need not be an enemy of mine. Whoever it is you're waiting for... She's not coming back. You are cast alone to gather dust in this crypt for eternity... But it doesn't have to end that way." The necrotic bolts continued to flash across her skin. She could only try to make him see her view. After all, he was indeed very powerful... He could make a VERY valuable ally in the coming months...

"Fool yourself all you want. Convince yourself that your goddess still remembers you, but that will not change your situation." The woman's grin was cold and dead, but she prepared herself in case the Jackal didn't take kindly to her words and retaliated out of blind rage... Such was the behavior of these personalities... So predictable and... Childish. "I, however..." She chuckled, staring at him darkly.

"I can..."

Salzem

Embalmus slumped down in his throne, frustrated by his inaction. If it were anyone else... Anyone... he'd have ripped them to shreds... It was this woman's magic that kept her alive, this aura that over-road the lycanthrope's will and demanded he step down. DAMNIT! The moment she was weak, he would rip her little head from her tiny NECK! But for now... All the undead could do was remain silent, as cold and dead as the blood that pumped through his rotten veins. She continued talking, reveling in the fact she was in control. He could see it on her face... It was obvious indeed... Even if she wasn't actively gloating or taking on a certain tone, he could simply tell by the arrogance in her posture and the chill in her voice that she didn't have a care in the world and she knew it... That was the worst part really... He hated it when they knew they were right...

"I need not converse with a meat-sack to what the holiness of Samara knows. And what do you know about my 'situation', human?" Embalmus inquired calmly, coolly, his eyes locked firmly on the space surrounding the woman rather than she herself. He couldn't afford to be entranced again by her power. "I've noticed you lack a sense of duty. Your pathetic fears of death and cravings for power always lead you to abandon your purpose... I, on the other hand... I am content to sit here until my bones turn to dust for the goddess."

"What could you offer me? A little home...? A city...?" His voice took on a clear mocking tone, almost sarcastic. "I run entire civilizations, a WORLD! I stand at the feet of the most powerful force your worthless rock has ever seen and you think you can 'change my position?' What a joke."

Codex

Surprisingly, her words did not stoke a rage filled attack like she had expected. Perhaps she had misjudged. However, that wasn't to say he was happy to hear her observation either. After all, many wouldn't in his situation. For long time, the girl herself could never admit to herself that she was truly forgotten. For years she waited, silently in the darkness... Waiting. Why would they leave her? What reason did they have for doing such a thing? Their legacy crumbled in their absence, and she was left alone in the sand... Truly abandoned... Truly forgotten.

"Than you've noticed a specific set of us 'humans'." She said with venom. "Not all are as cowardly and fearful as you'd expect. Isolation will only narrow your view, and only a fool will willingly commit themselves to that torture."

The woman then slowly began to walk towards the wall, placing a hand on the old sandstone. She shut her eyes for a moment, breathing in slowly as her fingers traced the ancient brick. At his question, she opened her lids again and turned slightly. "A second chance..." The woman would walk towards the center of the chamber, but this time something odd was happening. A thin line of sand began to sink into the floor behind her as she walked, and soon more lines appeared. Only a few seconds, the entire floor was filled with these cracks, all converging towards the center. Suddenly, a circular shape appeared in the sands, and then it rose. The entire room echoed with the sound of sliding stone as a rather large alter looking object steadily ascended from the depths of the ruin. It looked like an empty basin.

"Here we are..." She whispered, smirking. With a quick hand movement, the sand filling the basin was quickly thrown aside by some invisible force, leaving it completely empty. "You see, my friend." She began, slowly raising her hand, and removing the glove. "We can all find what we're looking for..." Soon, a black mist circulated her hand, and a rather cruel looking dagger manifested in the palm of her other hand. "We just need to... Expand our search parameters... See the light." She grinned, holding the dagger to her open palm, and quickly running it across.

She gave no indication of pain, she simply held out her wounded hand over the basin and waited for a moment. At first, nothing, but soon a thick, almost black liquid began to drip from her palm. It fell into the basin, and stained the stone with red. "THese old tombs..." She began, still keeping her arm lifted above the basin. "Their builders always hid something in it to return their master's grave into a fortress, when they returned... Or so they believed." She'd say, looking up to him, removing her hand finally as the wound on her palm began to heal rapidly. Suddenly, a glowing, yellow mist began to form around the top of the basin, and then it turned into a sickly green, falling to the floor around it. A loud rumbling echoed throughout the chamber, and then the stone began to move around them. A necrotic green light began to shine through the ruin's crevices and cracks. The woman simply backed up from the basin with her arms behind her back, watching intently.

The room began to rise steadily as the stones on the walls began to shift and change. Large holes opened up into the floor that led to dark abysses, draining the entire chamber of sand. Soon, the throne the Jackal was sitting on began to rise itself. And then a light. Somewhere, far above them, the rocks opened to reveal the sun of the outside world. A golden ray of light shone down through the tomb, illuminating the entire chamber. Fountains of clear, pure water began to spout from the mouths of statues on the walls, filling up large pools at their bases... It was beautiful.

In mere minutes, the entire tomb had transformed from a ruin... To a gleaming palace of splendor. The woman standing in front of the basin as it began to sink slowly back into the stone.

"She may be gone, but you can still honor her work.... This is the chance I offer you."

Salzem

"You're all weak." Embalmus corrected the unknown woman as she spewed her remarks about certain "sects." "Sect... No sect... you'll all crumble and run as soon as something bigger than you rears it's head." When she commented how much of a fool he was given the state she found him in, the undead only laughed, rolling his glowing eyes. "If you think I haven't been outside because you found me on this throne, you're even more idiotic than you ascribe me to be. I've been around... seen your cities... fought your meager armies... Your world is doomed to conversion... It's only a matter of time, whether you choose to accept it or not. You will be indoctrinated."

The woman placed her hand on the old sand stone, seemingly oblivious to his comments. It wasn't like it mattered if she knew to him... In fact, he was doing her a favor, letting her know what was coming for her puny world and if she wasn't willing to take his advice... well... she'd die that much quicker and her planet not far behind. Suddenly, cracks began to form around the perimeter of the floor, arcing in towards the center. A massive alter began to rise from the ground, nothing that belonged to Samara, that was for certain. Still, the undead was compelled not to move... His body wouldn't let him take hostile action against this woman... not while her magics were in play. He merely watched as she appeared to defile his goddess' tomb, preforming a blood-ritual typical of a creature of flesh.

She began to mutter incoherently, things the undead didn't bother to listen to because the surroundings of the tomb began to shift and change. In moments, this creature had managed to restore the alter of a god, this tomb, to it's former glory, old and stone repaired their luster, the ravenous sands began to recede to the rest of their kind, leaving the tomb spotless. The undead now sat on a throne several meters higher, his surroundings asthetically pleasing to the eye as undead now began to swarm and build with the reconstruction of Samara's tomb. Whether this woman knew it or not, with the rebuilding of this tomb, she had reaffirmed Samara's presence in the world, her magic infused into the very bricks of which she had just repaired. Undead, real, physical, thinking undead from skeletons to rotting corpses to ghosts crowded around Embalmus as he sat in the chair, actually at a loss for words, the magic bubble surrounding the tomb sustaining them and giving them a will. Not only has she given this place it's luster, but she made him a king effectively. Despite how raw he still was... she did a Samara a service... that made him obligated to remain respectful and aid her in her quest... Whatever that may be.

"...What is your name?" He asked, his body-language slowly taking on a more passive appearance, ignoring her comment about Samara's absence. "And what do you need me to do?"

Codex

She gazed gleefully at the surrounding tomb. The walls restored with precious gems, the water clear and pure, pouring into the pools around the base of the throne. The golden ray of sunlight. Truly breath taking. And that's when her attention turned back to the Jackal. Staring at him with a softened stare as he finally began to take her seriously... And she knew exactly why.

A question... He had asked... A question. Her name? What was it he wondered? The woman simply frowned after the first question... What was her name? How long had it been since she was forced to use it? An inquiry both of them wondered now as the woman began to think hard about the answer... She knew her name had a C in it... But what was the rest? Oh yes! That was it! Snapping her fingers, the woman smiled again, giving a half bow to the Jackal Headed man. "My name is Cerci Anecitus..." And then came the second question.

She grinned darkly. "My friend... You speak so much of how this world will end in darkness... Of how death will sweep over the planet and consume everything." She ran a hand through her hair. "Well... As it turns out." She looked back up to him with a dark grin.

"I'm counting on it."

Suddenly a flash would enter his mind. Images. Brief, but clear. Images of great cities of Le'ranna. Consumed by death and shadow. The world on the brink of total darkness... And Cerci's silhouette watching it burn...

Salzem

Embalmus raised an eyebrow as the now proclaimed Cerci stated that the two of them shared the same goals, that he sought to cloak the world in "darkness". What did undead and Samara have to do with the absence of light...? Undead are corpses animated with magic to serve a function, himself included and she wanted to put that under darkness...? Why...? What was dark about it? It was merely a function of a specific magical art in which all creation within it's bounds are superior. An image flashed through the undead's mind of a world consumed by blackness, civilization as they knew it burning all around her. Cerci's silhouette faced the devastation and Embalmus merely blinked, forcing the illusion away. That was her master plan...? Just... devastation? Nothing after that...? Needless to say, the undead was underwhelmed and his expression displayed that fact. If this was supposed to encourage him, make him actually appreciate that he owed her a favor now, she was dead wrong. Such a short-sighted blanket goal would never succeed, especially when devastation was the LAST thing he wanted. Embalmus wanted order, not chaos. The Darkness she was describing was chaotic, a force without a master at least from the images she showed him.

Still, the undead said nothing, merely glaring down at her, that one phrase she kept saying over and over echoing through his mind: My friend... my friend....

"I am not your friend." He would finally say, rising from his throne and making his way down the steps. His body began to contort and shrink, flesh and bones snapping, hair falling off as his body mutated and condensed down to a human-like shape with tan skin, gold eyes and dark brown hair. He still looked at the woman as if she were beneath him despite his new face.

"You have not earned that privilege. Now... What am I to do?"

Codex

She could just tell by his glare that the jackal was unimpressed with her idea. Sighing, she figured he either was too stubborn to let himself show any positive attitude towards her plan, or he simply misinterpreted it. Either way, she'd have to find another way to gain his approval. After all, when the subject was willing, the job was always easier. It was clear he didn't have an interest in any poetic words Cerci had given him. Straight to the point he was. Boring, but effective at least. It could've been a lot worse. However, something else did strike her as surprising. The jackal was no longer a jackal. Instead, he had morphed and shrunk into a human! How interesting! This action caused Cerci to smile.

"Well then..." She turned her attention away from him towards the stone wall. It was large and empty. "Come with me and you'll find out..." She chuckled. It was apparent now that Cerci was well aware of the undead's irritation to her actions, but it only fueled her entertainment, so she'd humor herself a little longer. Suddenly, a flash appeared in front of the two, and in the wall's place was now a massive glowing vortex of purple magic. It swirled like a whirlpool on the wall. Cerci said nothing else, but simply stepped into it. Her frame vanishing into the swirling magic.

Had the necromancer followed, they'd find themselves in what looked like a MASSIVE underground cavern. Cerci stood far ahead of him, up a rock face. She chuckled and waved a hand, signaling him to follow before she vanished behind the rocks. When he arrived, she'd be standing on the cliff edge of this underground landscape, staring straight ahead. There, in all its majesty, was the city of the dead. A massive metropolis of necromancy, sprawling with light.

"This place may only be an illusion, but this is what I'm planning on building." She said, her eyes staring widely at the majesty of the city. "A nest of death fitting for any undead army." She said again, grinning towards her partner. "However, I lack the 'friends' to help me run this army...."

Salzem

Embalmus found himself more and more frustrated with how jovially she took this whole interaction, not the slightest ounce of seriousness about her. She seemed all about innuendos, poetics, attempts to persuade by illusions... Some of that he could respect... but most he scoffed at and scorned... He kept reminding himself that he owed her, that after this favor, he could return to the tomb she was so arrogant to reconstruct for him and crush her and her world for the GLORY OF SAMARA, but such a reminder only made the time between then and now pass by slower. The undead raised an eyebrow as Cerci created a swirling vortex portal in the center of a barren wall, following her close behind, his human muscles tensed, ready for battle... However... What he saw when he stepped out... it was beautiful... It almost reminded him of home, if only a small part... Shaded under stone, a massive city of the dead bustled with activity, swarming movements of the rotten and wretched down below, some functioning beings, others automatons, order being conducted to the highest degree. Embalmus was entranced by the illusion Cerci had graced him with, finally comprehending what he wanted to work towards, if only on a minor MINOR scale... This city... it was a beautiful starting point... As radiant as any shining piece of metal the mortals of this plane favored.

When Cerci spoke again, Embalmus' face grew hard once more, stubborn to show her any amount of leeway. She sung the praises of her plan, then stated that she lacked someone to lead her army... A friend to command her forces. The undead glanced at her, the world she was offering to him, then sighed and rolled his eyes. If this is what it took to make his plans move forward faster... he could stomach being her.... friend... He could... He'd just have to keep looking at this...

"You have one." He spat out, his face cringing in disgust and consent. "I, Embalmus, will lead your undead armies."

Codex

Oh the words brought her so much joy. Cerci couldn't help but grin after witnessing his obvious distaste for the entire situation, but was happy he admired her own dream to build a city for the dead. This now opened up so many doors for her. His experience and power could benefit her greatly! She'd be sure to have some fun with it as well along the way.

"I'm glad you see it my way.." She chuckled, putting a hand on his cheek as he cringed. "Lighten up will you? We have a world to convert." She'd whisper. Turning back to gaze at the beauty gleaming below them, Cerci would speak again.

"We will begin with building a labor force... Raise as many dead as you can, and bring them to the wraith's tear..." She said. "We will accomplish great things together, you and I." And with that, the undead would feel light headed. In Cerci's illusionary world, she controlled what people saw and felt.

Embalmus would wake again, sitting atop his throne in Samara's tomb... But it's golden beauty had all but faded. The place was as it was before... A ruin. No evidence that Cerci had even arrived. The only sound was the whispering wind coming from the skylight far above... The only thing that was still left from Cerci's magic...

Salzem

Oh, how Embalmus cringed as the woman dared to touch him, her palm gently holding his cheek as she looked at him with a smirk, telling him to lighten up... whatever that meant. The undead decided to let her transgression pass for the sake of cooperation, keeping in mind that her goal was a noble one and she was doing god's work. Instead of following her gaze back down to the city, Embalmus kept his eyes on her, finding it difficult to look away. It was... refreshing how much she acted like Samara... it made him feel at ease, all things considered. While there were some aesthetic differences such as skin-color and choices of clothing, when the jackal looked at her... it was hard to see anything else... She talked the same, moved similarly, had a temper and a certain way of talking that was almost Samara incarnate. Maybe... Maybe this wouldn't be so bad...

Embalmus would awaken in the ruins of Samara's tomb abruptly (in his Jackal form), the woman's instructions in mind. Everything that had happened to the to ruins, it's power and beauty seemed completely reverted, leaving it a shell of what it used to be. Fine. She wanted to play that way...? The undead rose from his throne in a huff, frustrated she left this place in such a way, beginning to raise legions of skeletal servants to serve as laborers. Within a few hours, they would have an army's worth, the best around as they came from his home dimension....

Without wasting any time, Embalmus began his march to "The Wraith's Tear" his army of darkness in tow.

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