So Close...

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Peter Levy
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So Close...

Postby Peter Levy » Sat Jan 04, 2014 5:17 pm

A dark robed figure appears in the Wastes, very close to the freshly-sealed Rift to the Deep. A tall man with a pale face and a calm expression. Black shadows swirl around him, shimmering faces occasionally leering through the misty darkness surrounding the figure. He slowly, but purposefully walkes toward a shining dome of silvery-white power. The power of this warding was clearly holding him back, but he pushed through almost unphased. With his hands held in front of his chest, fingers pressed against each other, the man observes the power of the warding. Then he peers through it at a creature in an open coffin. He studies the golden-skinned daemon; his tattered fur robes, his broken claws, his satisfied grin. The newcomer smiles his own victorious smile. His words are soft, slow, yet resonant and clear.

"We heard your shout. Very... Passionate. You wish to share in our glory? You wish for your mistress to share in our triumph? You wanted for your kind to witness the final moments of the mortals? You thought you could be one of us? I admire your ambition, little Daemon, but surely you can't expect us to accept that offer?"

Samuel paces.

"But, I have to say, you were on the right track when you realised our victory was assured. We will carry out most of your wish for you: we will finish them off slowly. They will suffer. Your lady will be pleased. But then she will one day be our lady I suppose. Oh yes, without her followers, the world will only know the suffering caused by Quarin. So, Mikhail, we accept your offer to take you on. But, sadly for you, a dog with a sword and a man with a mallet have trapped you here."

He pulls a small piece of folded up paper from up a sleeve, and gently fondles it.

"Once the followers of Hope and Asternia have fallen before us, you will be free. Then you may talk to us of your ambitions. This will guide you."

The paper disappears from Samuel's hand, and a small flash of bronze comes from Mikhail's coffin. The lid closes.
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