Post by thehunter123 on May 4, 2007 14:06:33 GMT -5
Silinthius walks through the graveyard with the same sense of inspiration as one who walks through a field of their favorite flowers. His blackened adamantine plate feeling oddly more cold than usual today. His cloak freely blowing in the cool breeze. He walks and touches the cold stone tablets as he strides by, he feels the calling and the whispers of those long past. He takes a right then a left then a right .. aimless wandering reading the graves as he passes.
He stops at the one that reads:
Sir Rowthel Pennington. Hero of Arabel. May his bravery and shining wisdom be a guiding light to the rest of us.
He smiles and slightly chuckles to himself.
This one will do
Tucking his huge warhammer to his belt and strapping his shield to his back he begins to chant in a low gutteral voice. His hands weaving around in intricate patterns , glowing red streaks following where his hands and fingers weave about. His voice lowers into a crescendo of demonic and human words as his hands thrust downwards as a red light follows forth down into the grave.
A few seconds later if ones ears were keen enough , one could hear the shattering and splintering of wood. Almost a minute later a skeletal hand bursts through the ground. Then another appears and an unearthly corpse of a one time knight begins to rip and claw its way out of the ground.
A few minutes later the knight approaches the figure in red and black. Pulls out a longsword that dances with a dark red whisp hue and unstraps a shield from his back. Eyes Silinthius with a cold empty socket skull adorned with some crown of old.
Come knight ... we have work to do ....
Silinthius begins to cast spell upon spell on the death knight , some to strengthen it, some to make it more hardy, one to make its' blade as sharp as any blade and able to cut deeply into almost any creature, and finally ending with a spell that strengthes the knights' very bones itself.
After casting the two head off towards one his favorite places in the world. The grave-filled city of the dead itself.... the Necropolis ....
The two wander upon an ancient mausoleum .... (( to be continued .. damn work !! your getting in the way !! ))
He stops at the one that reads:
Sir Rowthel Pennington. Hero of Arabel. May his bravery and shining wisdom be a guiding light to the rest of us.
He smiles and slightly chuckles to himself.
This one will do
Tucking his huge warhammer to his belt and strapping his shield to his back he begins to chant in a low gutteral voice. His hands weaving around in intricate patterns , glowing red streaks following where his hands and fingers weave about. His voice lowers into a crescendo of demonic and human words as his hands thrust downwards as a red light follows forth down into the grave.
A few seconds later if ones ears were keen enough , one could hear the shattering and splintering of wood. Almost a minute later a skeletal hand bursts through the ground. Then another appears and an unearthly corpse of a one time knight begins to rip and claw its way out of the ground.
A few minutes later the knight approaches the figure in red and black. Pulls out a longsword that dances with a dark red whisp hue and unstraps a shield from his back. Eyes Silinthius with a cold empty socket skull adorned with some crown of old.
Come knight ... we have work to do ....
Silinthius begins to cast spell upon spell on the death knight , some to strengthen it, some to make it more hardy, one to make its' blade as sharp as any blade and able to cut deeply into almost any creature, and finally ending with a spell that strengthes the knights' very bones itself.
After casting the two head off towards one his favorite places in the world. The grave-filled city of the dead itself.... the Necropolis ....
The two wander upon an ancient mausoleum .... (( to be continued .. damn work !! your getting in the way !! ))