The Awakening

**Darkness** · Posts: 6 Join date: 2009-06-17

They stir. The green clouds spiral overhead, crackling with the life force of Darkness. Crimson lights flash all around. Bone Jackals race from hole to hole, ripping away single bones of those who dare attempt to ascend the heights of the Azraeal Mountain range. A fool's errand. None came calling for the master of the peak and returned. It quite simply wasn't a trip one could return from. Climbing the peaks, far from Eamon' supposed protection in the city, made a being's soul forfeit. In ten thousand years, since Darkness' self-induced exile, and escape from Necropolis, none had ever returned from attempting his capture or council. If a being survived the climb, the lightning, familiars and Bone Jackals they faced a much more fearsome and terrible challenge; proving themselves worthy, to Darkness' standards. None returned still, even if they did prove themselves.
Darkness tore their soul out regardless, reanimating it into a more powerful physical embodiment. Such things were his forte, and none matched his skill. His vile magicks were powerful, and like a disease, extremely contageous. The earthbound disease, lepercy, was one such plague invented by Darkness' hand. While he was totally incapable of summoning demonic familiars through necromancy, his own brother's main strength, he was the better at fighting and stike artes, as Darkness called them. The combination of his Dark magick with physical assault.
A Bone Jackal attempted at a skeleton will ill consequence. The sky lit crimson, the red bolt seeking a target as it always did, jumping and arching it's way down in a slower, but far more accurate bolt. As it struck the Bone Jackal, the medium sized creature literally exploded black mist rising from the small fragments that were left. This lightning was the sole source of Darkness' power and had been since his exile. No longer able to draw power from the denizens of the Underworld, he drew it now from their eviceration. A dread magick indeed to vapourize the soul of what it strikes, transforming it into Dark energy.
As the mist rose, it formed a sphere and shot into the sky. The center of the spiralling green clouds opened as though a mouth, devouring it and returning it to Darkness himself.

Darkness awoke to his recent collection. A small morsel, but greatly sustaining just the same. He stood from the stone floor of what most would consider a cave. It's appearance was modest at best, but Darkness was far from materialistic. His head turned toward the mouth, seeing the flash of red contrasted by the dead green of the clouds. He turned away from it, walking deeper into his dwelling. There, against the back wall, was a large pool of blood collected in a large bowl made into the rock wall. His fingertips slowly dipped into it, causing multiple ripples to spread across it's surface. It faded white as he did, displaying Eamon and Narkissa in His Father's palace. Words were spoken, but unheard by Darkness. He needed no sound, only sight. They were planning something, and arguing. This was all apparant. Eamon, the wrethc,wanted something, but Narkissa was denying him. It didn't really matter. The invasion would take place in the next few days. Cunning and wise, Darkness would send a legion of ten thousand into Necropolis, wreaking havok upon the entire city and forcing Eamon's guard away from the palace, and with any amount of luck, Narkissa with them, seeing as she resurfaced. At this time, Darkness himself and another five thousand would charge the gates of the palace, and kill anything that dared stand in his way. Ten thousand years was more than Darkness could bear at this point. The bastard creature Eamon, deceptive and cowardly sitting in a throne stolen, not earned by either birthright or deed. Darkness had no love of his elder brother Necros, but also loved him none for his infinite patience. How long Necros intended to allow Eamon to sit upon the throne was unclear to Darkness, but his patience was at an end. He could stand the insult no longer.
Necros was only a ghost to Darkness any more. During childhood, they were nearly inseperable, always causing sometimes harmless mischief together, never alone. Now they could not even connect with one another mentally, much less verbally. Thousands of years had passed them both by since Eamon had stolen the Throne of the Underworld, and afterward, Darkness fled to the mountains, Necros stayed and decieved. Leading Eamon to believe that Necros wouldn't dare attack him out of fear. How little Eamon knew then and now. Were he a wiser demon, he would have executed Necros, but he was not all that wise.
Eamon had known well Darkness' physical and magickal power, far too large for him to allow to exist. Darkness's radical behavior had negated any possibility of Eamon attempting to use him, and so he decided to murder him. A poor idea at best to send demons after him instead of doing the deed himself, long ago when Darkness was much, much weaker than he was now. Even in those days, the lightning stuck the mountian, seeking prey to add to Darkness' power. Over the centuries, Eamon had sent countless asassins to attempt the deed, few even made it to the peak, and their great and monsterous power was converted to Darkness' own wicked might. In his own way, Eamon had ensured how powerful Darkness had become. And now, Eamon cowered inside the Palace, fearing of his life to leave. This would be his undoing, and Darkness himself planned to ensure so. He so longed to reunite with his elder brother, Necros, and storm the gates at his side, but due to what Darkness was forced to do for survival, the killings, the eating, the stealing of souls, Necros had become disgusted with his own little brother and Darkness was well aware of this. It was too late for reunions, though, Darkness couldn't go back, and didn't suffer any dellusions of wanting to. He lusted for the power he attained and wanted even more. But absolution would be his and his alone as he tore away Eamon's soul from his still kicking body and consumed it. He would not be stopped, none would bar him from murdering Eamon, not even Necros. As for the Throne of the Underworld, Darkness didn't care whether it was he or Necros who got it in the end, as long as Eamon lie dead and Darkness had his soul. That was all that mattered. An eye for an eye. Eamon had stolen His Majesty's soul, coward tactics. Snaking his way to becoming an advisor and then using poison to incapacitate the Great Devil while Eamon stole away his soul. Eamon would know the same pain, the same sensation. Such wonderful justifications that Darkness entertained, but in truth, his gluttony for power was driving him now, not justice, or even revenge for his Father. He would never admit to it, but this was truth. Darkness had become what his name implies; Dark and sinister. Intimately untrustworthy. Who could expect more from a Devil, though? An original embodiment of sin. He was pure only in the way of being purely evil.

Necros had honor, though, as Darkness did when he himself was young. All lost along the treacherous journey to the top of the Azraeal Mountains when he was much younger. The reason why Necros despised him. And with good reason. Darkness would kill Necros if given half the chance were he to believe that Necros wouldn't follow his plans to murder Eamon. Devour his own brother's soul, even. Quite the spectacle that would be. And quite the monster it would breed. Their Unholy Father had not allowed Darkness to summon familiars for a very good reason, though he did give Necros much more magickal power and far less physical power. Darkness' mind was not fit for creating legions of demons. Were Darkness to consume Necros, the Underworld would be forever doomed to a chaos far more bitter than anything Eamon could ever orchestrate, or ever even think of.

**Narkissa** · Webmaster Posts: 10 Join date: 2009-06-05

She knew where to find him. She had always known. There was some strange link between her and Darkness. It wasn't as strong as the one she had with Necros but it was still there all the same. Narkissa knew it was dangerous to come here, however, if she had come with others from the Necropolian Army, Darkness would have seen it as a threat and would have acted acordingly, destroying everyone, even her. He had no emotion for anyone, not even his own brother so what made her think that he felt something for her? Even if it was a mere flicker of respect. She wore the respectable armor of any Necromantic Warrior and hers did not bare Eamon's symbol. It bore her own. Gauntlets of leather and steel encased her arms, fastened by buckles just past her elbow and hiding some of the ancient runes tattooed along her skin. Narkissa's hair was slicked back away from her face, forming a single braid that trailed down her back. There was an abundance of her skin that was left visible to the eye, but there was enough covered to still appear decent. Boots of the same leather, steel and buckles hugged her legs just up to mid thigh. Steel covered her breasts, but the rest of the armor that hugged her curves was leather, baring a pear shaped expanse of her flat stomach and the small rune marking she had there.

Her sword, something that should have been a two handed weapon for someone her size, lay pierced in the dark terrain just at the base of the mountain range that she knew as Darkness' home. She knew he watched. She could feel the weight of his gaze as if he were peering down from the sky itself. Slowly, she lifted one of her hands and removed the metallic face mask she was seldom seen without, outside of the walls of the palace. Her eyes glanced up towards that mountain and she waited..

**Darkness** · Posts: 6 Join date: 2009-06-17

Darkness had indeed been watching her, as she now well knew. He watched her leave after Eamon was angered by her final answer. He had even watched her jouney here, having known that she had no other reason to leave Necropolis. A mere thought would have brought Necros, Darkness's sympathetic brother, to her side, cloaked in an invisibility that only her eyes could pierce the veil of.
And he watched her still, waiting himself. After a few moments, he decided that she had no intention of putting herself at the very real risk of being struck down by the lightning that had claimed so many before her. She had no intention of being the one to augment his power so greatly with her own soul. Wisdom was in this decision, but it still displeased Darkness, being that he would, in order to ascertain what she wanted, have to descend the mountain.
His right hand stuck out behind him, directed from the viewing pool toward the mouth of the cave and the encampment beyond it's opening. A five foot blade, spiked in various points across the length of the blade and topped with three points whipped through the air toward Darkness. One the natural straight of the blade, the other two, sickle-like blades extending from the shear of the sword. A weapon of his Father. It's mate, which Necros himself carried, was even more brutal in appearance and far deadlier outright, but far less enchanted as this one. Grave Cleaver, Darkness had named it. As it spun through the air, it's grip landing into his grasp and then Darkness himself was gone. The crimson lightning sought it's path down from the sky toward Narkissa, striking but feet away from her. The black smoke rose from it's end and Darkness stepped forth from it. He said no words, simply stood there, waiting to be addressed.

**Narkissa** · Webmaster Posts: 10 Join date: 2009-06-05

"Theatrical as always, Darkness." Came her voice after a few moments. The whisp of lightning had not frightened her, nor did his presence. She had a respect for him, not fear. She did not know why she did not fear him when everyone else inside and outside of Necropolis did. "But I did not come here in order to comment on your mannerisms of which you appear." Narkissa held the mask carefully in her hands, reguarding it almost thoughtfully. "I came here to step down from the Necropolian Army and to join yours." For a moment, the silence hung thick between them until she continued. "While you have many in your army, Darkness, I have noticed that you do not have any that can see and ascend to both realms. You do not have a Necromantic Warrior. Your purpose is, in essence, the same as Necros', to see Eamon dethroned, even dead. Personally, I just want him dead."

Narkissa lifted glowing orange eyes to his face, something that no one hardly ever did. "I no longer want to be his pet warrior. Its bad enough he asked me to be his Queen in order to protect him."

**Darkness** · Posts: 6 Join date: 2009-06-17

Darkness sneered at the comments of his mannerisms. He knew well that he left the actual theatrics to his brother. Arguing about it would do no good at this point, though. His hand lifted, and he stabbed the pinacle of his sword into the ground at his side before replying.

"You come here to me? Where is your loyalty to my brother, does he not call for you? Does he even rally an army to the cause of avenging our great Lord and Father? I know you hold no love for Eamon, and I know his insults to you, but I think you've come to the wrong Devil. This will be a massacre I will ensue. Any who dare claim resistance die. Citizen and soldier alike. Do you realize this?"

He turned, scooping his sword up from the ground. He began walking away from her, leaving all those questions unanswered and not caring. Her own actions would reveal her intent and he was not interested in her words, whether or not they could raise the dead or create familiars.

**Narkissa** · Webmaster Posts: 10 Join date: 2009-06-05

"I am very well aware, Darkness. My loyalty to your brother is there, but no, he does not call for me. He has asked me to come just as I come of my own will. Your brother, Darkness, is incarcerated in Eamon's prison. I can not get to him."

Narkissa watched the Dark Lord walk away. She knew his intentions for Necropolis and its denziens. But she cared not. All that mattered to her was getting Necros free from his prison. "He is kept somewhere in the labyrinth of the palace. You know as well as I that Eamon has created the Halls to shift every hour. There is no way for me to keep track of where they keep moving him."

**Darkness** · Posts: 6 Join date: 2009-06-17

Darkness stopped. The thought of Necros imprisoned by the coward, the child, the weakling Eamon amusing, but dire all the same. Very disturbing in truth. His hands loosened and he stabbed the sword back into the ground, turning back to Narkissa.

"And he cannot summon a golem to break through the very walls? Has he become a simpleton? I remember in childhood, Necros could summon a black dragon from nothing. He needed not even a single bone as the majority of the most accomplished necromancers do."

A grimace was strewn across his face. He found the very idea of his elder, more powerful bother captured disgusting in it's entirety. It was a foul joke, if it was a joke. And a sickening truth. A Devil prince imprisoned like a peasent.

**Narkissa** · Webmaster Posts: 10 Join date: 2009-06-05

"The walls in which he are kept, Darkness, are warded. His Magick and abilities are useless. Would you think him entirely foolish enough to not try?" Narkissa tilted her head faintly to the right. "His Powers have grown, but no ones can get past the wards. Believe me, I have tried." There was, perhaps, a great deal of sadness in her voice, an emotion in which she hardly ever showed.

She folded her arms across her chest. "I have tried everything that I know, which compared to you and your brother is not very much, but it is the best that I can do and that is obviously not good enough."

**Darkness** · Posts: 6 Join date: 2009-06-17

His head simply shook. Fool. Darkness' hands raised above his head, the green clouds in the sky growing darker. As his arms came down, a bolt, which more resembled a beam, came bursting down from the clouds, a deep, dark shade of crimson. It's movements were very sluggish, taking almost five seconds to finally reach the earth. As it did, an explosive plume of dust engulfed both Darkness and Narkissa. Within it was a simple scorpion. It seemed quite and very earthbound, as if the beam had plucked it from the above world. It in fact was a living bomb of the very spirit energy that Darkness collected from the lesser beings caught by his lightning. Countless Bone Jackals, and inept demons were harnessed in this insect only four inches long.
It scurried quickly away from Darkness but had no hope of escaping from him. He simply stooped down and snatched it up from the dirt by it's tale. Try as it might, it couldn't quite get used to this form that it had taken. Darkness placed it's body into his mouth, slightly opened, revealing his teeth. He exhaled sharply, black smoke whisping out between his lips. When he opened his mouth again, pulling the crude little creature out, it's head and pincers were stained black, while the rest remained a light, almost translucent brown. It had totally ceased struggling, and was placed into Darkness' opposite palm.

"Release this in the lower quarter of the palace. It will become unseeable to all. It will seek out my brother deep in the prison, for I have made it to do so. It will unleash what it is when it's within range of destroying the walls of his cell. The blast will go upward, leaving Necros with an escape path. The energy itself will disrupt the wards. You must be in Eamon's presence when this happens. He will suspect you otherwise. This is the best I can do for you, and it will suit my purposes of disorrienting Eamon. I will not risk my plans even for Necros by entering the city."

Without another word, Darkness dropped the scorpion on the ground infront of Narkissa and vanished. Atop the mountain, a single bolt of the crimson lightning could be seen striking the peak. He had purposely left the sword there, and now it sped away across the terrain, pinwheeling as it did. It ended up burrying itself directly above where the scorpion would detonate. A last helping gift for his brother. He expected to have it returned.

**Narkissa** · Webmaster Posts: 10 Join date: 2009-06-05

Narkissa picked up the scorpion by its tail and placed it on her shoulder. It seeped into her skin, merging with the runes tattooed into her skin becoming a part of them. It would emerge when she called it. Her Magick was great, perhaps greater than Necros' and Eamon had his notions that her Magick was even greater than Darkness', but she knew that it wasn't. She had learned what she could from Eamon and secretly from Necros. She was perhaps equal to Darkness if at best. If she could only learn from him than perhaps she might be the best in all of Necropolis, but Narkissa doubted that he would teach what he knew. Carefully, she replaced her mask and curled her fingers around her discarded sword, pulling it forth from the blackened earth. She stuck the blade back in its sheath along the length of her spine and turned from the Mountains, the skirt cape of her armor trailing behind her as she moved. With each step her body became less visible, becoming translucent until she had simply vanished.

There was a thin Magickal trail that marked the path in which she needed to take in order to reach the place where the scorpion was to be placed. It was a Magickal trail that was marked by ancient ruins that only Narkissa, Darkness and Necros could read. Anyone else would see a mere subtle green mist and nothing more. She reached up with her hand, and the scorpion materialized in her palm. She placed the creature down and turned away. "You will be free, my love." Apparently Eamon had, afterall found out about her secret meetings with Necros in the Human world. Wait until he found out that she had married him prior to her return to Necropolis.

She left then, knowing that it was only a matter of time before her husband was free. Neither her nor Necros wanted the throne. They wanted to be away from all this to have their life. But with warriors such as they, there was little time for anything else. Especially with a Necromancer. Necros and Darkness were demi-gods, as it were. But Narkissa, well, she was the most powerful Necromancer in all of Necropolis and the entire Underworld. This was her domain, this was where her abilities were at their most powerful. She was, however, the only one that could ascend to the Mortal world besides Darkness and Necros. Eamon could not, thankfully.

The throne room was empty, for once, but she knew that Eamon would more than likely be in his personal chambers. Not a place she wanted to visit, but he had summoned her like the pet he thought she was. A low growl rumbled from her lips, but she silenced it. She was no ones pet. With her purposed filled, confident stride, she wove through the hidden alcove, stopping just outside Eamons door. A cold dread tingling its way down her spine that always accompanied his presence.