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Saturday, January 15, 2011

3.3.17.1. The Dark is Looming

Undead Army - Courtesy of Chevsy


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

FLIGHT OF THE EMPRESS



‘Light the candles. The sun is setting and the darkness is coming.’


3.3.17.1. The Dark is Looming


The Dark is looming. By land, air and sea.

Spreading out, swiftly and thoroughly like a blanket of night covering the skies as evening sun sets.

Like a plague, swallowing, shattering everything in its path. Turning the inland sea water black. Turning cities into ruins and rubbles. Turning fallen foes into undead – or food for their abominable monsters.

One thing for sure: The Dark Forces never seek to conquer and coexist – They seek to destroy. The ideal world for them is the world where evildoers, monsters and undead roam are on the top of the food chain.

The world where evil reign supreme. The world Sodomos has once aspired for, but he will not rule this one, no. All these efforts are for his Hellspawn, Vordac, the Dark Overlord, the Dark Messiah to rule in his stead.

‘And now that the Dark Overlord’s Heir is with us, we will open the path for him. And I, Arachus, Lord Regent shall ensure it. Come, armies of the Serpent! Gremion allies! I’ll show you the green fields to scourge, the whole population to devour, and the cities to blight on! All hail Vordac!’

The Archdevil raises his hand and the Crow Scythe, the sign of Dark Supremacy once wielded by the Dark Overlord himself and then entrusted to him. The entire armies and monsters stare at it with awe, and they roar and cheer so the ground is shaking beneath them.

‘Hail Vordac! Hail the Hellspawn!’

The cheers roar on, among the ranks of armies in rows and formations, the armies so numerous that cover the entire plains under the cloudy, dark night.

Arachus just stands with a broad grin on his face (which is always so because of his big, sharp teeth in rows on his lipless mouth). He then looks on his left and right, to the Demonic Generals who are assisting him: A black knight with bald wings like spider legs on his back, the Archdemoness – the Succubus Queen – and a mysterious figure draped in all-black robe and cape. The ally, the Orc Khan Hagnorj claps his hands in deep admiration and awe.

‘That was impressive, Lord Regent,’ says Hagnorj.

‘Oh, you think so, Great Khan?’ Arachus replies. ‘I heard you have also recaptured Bresconnor. Congratulations!’

‘Thank you, Lord Regent. After all, it’s part of the deal. Now that we’ve got our share with your help, it’s our turn to help you.’

‘Good,’ says Arachus, staring at the Khan like a master to his pet dog. He turns and points to the west. ‘Well, now. Since we are in Borgia, let us ravage this land to punish our ex-allies!
Armies of Darkness! Forward, march!’


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