Blightlord stood over the fizzling cauldron, tossing ingredients in and saying the necessary word of power to imbue it with greater strength. The Liches walked around behind him reading from spellbooks and scrolls as they added their own power to the mixture. He now knew it was ready, and the master of the undead stepped back and said the final word.
There was a deafening boom as acrid, green smoke shot into the air, signaling they were successful. Blightlord nodded and stepped out of the room. Suddenly, he felt a pang in his chest. He put his hand there, feeling for a scorch mark from a fireball or lightning bolt, but even as cold fingers touched dead flesh, he realized what that feeling was. It was the same he felt any time one of his greater undead were defeated.
Deseca
Blightlord kicked off the ground and rocketed down the halls toward the source of the pain. He stopped when he saw her prone form lying face down, the boy and her wretched sister standing over the corpse.
He growled in anger, and took a moment to wonder how on earth the girl even escaped in the first place. But that didnt matter, this could be repaired. As Pstorm moved to attack, Blightlord stepped from the shadows, firing a paralytic agent from the launcher on his arm. It struck her helmet, making Pstorms systems freeze up. Blightlord quickly fired another at Void Brawler, the boys muscles locking, his face stuck in an expression of surprise.
With a sigh, he moved toward Desecas fallen form, kneeling over her with a vial in hand. He lifted her head, gazing into her cold, staring eyes.
***
Grime watched in anger as Blightlord suddenly appeared and froze the two children. This would ruin everything! The Lichs frustration grew even more when he saw that his master was attempting to revive the vile creature. If he was ever to be rid of her, he would have to act fast
The Lich dropped into a pool of shadows and reappeared behind a pillar beside Blightlord. Wait my lord, he said, stepping out of the darkness. Doesnt this all seem strange? The girl shouldnt have been able to get free, and the boy would never find the door on his own. Perhaps she freed the girl to settle a score from her own dimension? Grime knew he was taking a big risk with this deception, but it had to be done.
Dont be a fool, said Blightlord, though he did step away from Desecas corpse.
And when you told her you were going to kill the boy as well. Remember her reaction? Grime added. That hesitation in her eyes. If this was just an accident and not her doing, can you still afford such weakness? What if she has second thoughts after this is done?
Blightlord nodded, and slid the vial back into his belt. This time he drew a beaker filled with red, bubbling liquid. He slammed it down on top of Desecas corpse, and crimson smoke shot up, then raced back down on top of her, the gleeful cackles of demons echoing in the room. The smoke filled until her body could no longer be seen, and when it had cleared, she was gone.
And do not think that I dont know when I am being lied to! shouted Blightlord, whirling around with his arm outstretched, his hand shaped as if choking someone. Even though he was touching him, Grime still held his hands against his chest, his fiery eyes dimming as he struggled. You are a fool, Lich, said Blightlord, purposely not using Grimes given name to further remind who is the master and who is the slave.
Blightlord closed his hand and twisted, a loud crack ringing out. He ripped his arm backward, and a force as black as the deepest darkness was torn from Grimes shell. His body fell to the ground in a heap, while Blightlord stood there, moving the energies around between his hands. Perhaps some time spent in the deep abyss will remind you of your place. He slammed his hands together, and the energy was gone.
And now for you
said the rotting evil, his boot clicks echoing as he walked toward the paralyzed children. Blightlord summoned four of his Grave Knights to carry them to the laboratory. The plan would go on uninterrupted.
He next moved toward the holding room, no sign of the things that had occurred having disturbed him in the least, to make sure Burning and Danica were comfortable.
How annoyed he was when the reward for his attempt at being a good host was a fireball and a spinning kick to the jaw.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
Blightlord stood silently for a moment before wiping the ash from his face. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he said.
"This thing is over, Blightlord," said Burning as the fire coursed up and down his arms, growing brighter and hotter.
"Oh it is far from over," he said with a chuckle. "Your children should be seeing that right about now." Danica leapt back in for another kick, but Blightlord ducked quickly, catching her leg in one hand and thrusting another up into her thigh, the large needle sticking in deep. She staggered back as the poison numbed her leg, making it hard to stand. "My dear, you should know by now I am far beyond you."
Danica grit her teeth. "We'll see about that."
"Get the kids," said Burning, eyes focused on Blightlord. "I'll handle this."
Danica shut her eyes and nodded, fighting back the urge to stay and fight. She raced past Blightlord, who let her go. She wouldn't get far.
"I'm surprised you would doom yourself like this, Brawler. Perhaps you're not as well as you think, hm?" Blightlord threw his arms out wide, and the tortured souls of his victims rushed forward, bound to do their murderers bidding, their faces permanently twisted into silent screams. They wrapped around Burning, holding him high in the air. "But perhaps it is best this way." Blightlord closed his fists, and the souls constricted.
The fire around Burning's arms began to blaze brighter, and did the impossible. The souls screamed aloud in agony, their faces twisting further, and disappeared in the blaze. Brawler hit the floor and rolled, coming out of it with a beam of flame.
Blightlord staggered back as it caught him in the chest and the smell of cooking flesh filled the air. The undead master growled as he let his arms drop. Part of his suit became liquid and oozed down his arm, forming a pair of swords, their blades glowing a sickly green, their hilts wrapped in the same veins of Blightlord's suit.
The villain rushed forward, cross-slashing quickly. Burning leapt back to avoid it, but two long slices still came across his front. The blood had a sickly tint to it, and he began to feel his chest tighten. Poison...
Brawler fought back the effects as best he could, throwing a fireball to blind Blightlord as he rushed in, two swords of flame forming in his own hands. He moved to stab low, but found the poisoned blades meeting his own. "Can't think of anything original, Brawler?"
Blightlord chuckled as he crossed his blades and shoved them upwards, threatening to close Burning's head in a scissor-lock. The hero countered by bringing one of his own fiery blades up in the center and shoved his other deep into Blightlord's gut.
He cursed softly as he felt the already rotted insides of his body being burned away, and quickly leapt back. He fired a paralyzer at Brawler. The hero dodged it, but it gave Blightlord enough time to draw a vial from his belt and down it, repairing the larger part of the damage.
The villain pulled his arms back, then threw both swords at Burning, the soul energy pushing them forward faster.
***
Danica raced down the halls. Even as Grave Knights and zombies moved to stop her, she pushed past them, and knocked their feet out from underneath. She looked at a small transmitter that she kept in her boot. Pstorm's location showed as a red dot, getting closer and closer.
A Lich stepped out to stop her, but she leaped over its head, kicking backward and knocking it from the undead sorceror's shoulders. She landed and rolled, coming to a stop in front of the room.
Danica tried to open the doors, but they wouldn't budge.
Inside, the Liches were guiding Void Brawler up the steps to the large cauldron, he and his sister dressed in plain brown robes, their eyes vacant as they moved at the Liches command, their spells dominating the childrens' minds.
The door suddenly fell forward, flattening the two guards inside. The Liches turned, their eyes open in surprise.
Danica looked over to where Void Brawler was about to step into the mixture. "No!" she shouted, leaping forward to knock him away. As she did, his eyes began to regain their color, the Liches' hold breaking on the children.
He was flung backward, but Danica was not so fortunate. As she gripped the edge of the step, pulling herself back up, a Lich threw an arm out, a dark wave of energy rushing it. It washed over her, making the heroine feel ill. She fought against it, but her grip was already weakening. One of the undead sorcerors stepped up and stomped on her hand, breaking her tenuous hold.
She fell back into the mixture and it hissed as she was dragged down.
"Mom!" shouted Pstorm, her own eyes snapping back into focus as she flew over the cauldron. The Liches moved to stop her, but already a large cloud was forming in the room. Lightning arced out rapidly, striking the sorcerors, and creating large smoking holes in their chest.
Pstorm thrust both her arms out, and began to move her hands in circles. The mixture began to swirl with her hands until a funnel ripped from the cloud, throwing the green ooze all over the room and clearing a spot in the center. Danica's limp form was sucked into it. Pstorm quickly directed it out of the cauldron and dispersed it, setting her mother down on the floor.
Void Brawler was just starting to regain his senses, his rough collision with the floor after being knocked off the steps having scrambled him a bit. He looked up to see that girl standing over someone.
He got to his feet and faded from sight, then slowly staggered over to what she was looking at. His eyes widened when he saw his mom lying there, unmoving. His shock was so complete, he lost control and slid back into visibility.
Pstorm stepped back quickly, her hands up defensively, ready to fend off an attack, but instead, Void kneeled over the body. "I... remember..." he said, his shoulders trembling. "I saw her after she died but she wasn't dead. She tried to say something, warn me." He looked up at Pstorm. "I don't even know who you really are. Just... tell her I'm sorry." Void placed a hand on her stomach. Dark energies raced down his arm and flowed into her. Danica's eyes fluttered open as Void's own closed.
As her son fell back, Danica was suddenly on her knees, holding him up. She felt his face as warmth was slowly dripping away, and her eyes began to water as she realized what he'd done. "Let's get him out of here."
"Where's dad?" said Pstorm as they rushed out of the halls. A hurricane wrapped around the girl, flinging back most of the undead around them. A small cloud followed her, striking the Liches who tried to cast their spells.
"He's fighting Blightlord, but we can't do anything until we get Void away from here," she said. The exit stood ahead of them. They were nearly there until a cackling spectre shot through Pstorm, breaking her concentration as its cold, dead spirit chilled her insides. The cloud and spinning winds disappeared, making it easy for Guck to slide forward, clipping Danica with his sword flat and knocking her to her feet, Void falling on top of her.
The heroine grunted as she rose. Her numbed leg had thankfully regained feeling during her leap to save Void, but it was still aching, and the sudden fall didn't help either. But most important, they had to get Void out of here. "Take him and go," said Danica as she readied herself into a fighting stance, knowing the other Knight must be nearby. "Take him to the base, and don't stop until you're there."
Pstorm nodded, lifting Void with a small funnel and carrying him quickly down a side corridor to find another way to the exit. Sludge looked from her to Danica, then cackled once more as he raced after her.
Danica moved to stop the spirit, but a slash from Muck's broadsword stopped her. She had to leap back to avoid being sliced, and grimaced as the Grave Knight grinned. "You die," he said, his rotting breath making her wince.
She kicked up, knocking his arm wide, then spun and slammed her foot into his head, knocking him to the floor.
Guck rushed forward with both swords, one glowing with flame, the other crackling with lightning. The Knight quickly slashed both down across her shoulders, but instead met two arms blocking high against his own, forcing his arms up. She headbutted him, making him stagger back.
Muck started to rise to his feet, his own swords charging with power as he snarled.
Danica crouched low, her arms ready. "Let's do this, then."
***
Pstorm glanced back at Sludge as he continued his mad cackling, tossing screaming skulls at her. Bursts of wind sent them flying back, but she couldn't keep this up. The girl kicked off the ground, flying down the hall, using wind bursts against the walls to push her along faster, the funnel carrying Void following close beside her.
Sludge hissed as he increased his own speed, steadily gaining on her. "Kiiiiiiiiiiill the giiiiiiirl,' he said. A sudden burst and he was flying alongside her, his jaw dropped and tongue lolling out.
Pstorm spun to the side, racing down the hall. Sludge wasn't paying attention, and went straight through the wall. He rushed back out ahead of her, grinning. That grin disappeared though as a burst of lightning shot into him, the electricity coursing over him. Pain wracked the ghost's spirit as Pstorm began her psionic assault. He twisted in agony, gripping his own skull.
Sludge quickly faded from the corporeal world, and the pain ceased. He grinned once more as he remained untouchable. "Yooooooooooou die now, liiiiiiiiiiiiittle girl..." He shot forward, striking her with a clawed hand and digging deep, chilling cuts into soft skin protected only by the brown robe.
Pstorm grunted, putting a hand over the wound. "It's not over yet."
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
Muck rushed in first, being closer. He brought one sword low, the other high, aiming to force Danica to back off. She surprised him though, ducking under the first strike and moving between his arms and around the second.
She palm-struck the Knight under his chin, jarring its teeth and cracked Muck's jaw. Before he could recover, she jabbed an elbow into his stomach, making the Knight double over long enough for her to grab the horns on his helmet and bring his face down onto her knee.
Muck stumbled away, hands up against his now flat face, growling as he tried to retrieve his nose from inside his skull. Danica didn't have long to gloat though, because his brother was coming in fast. Having learned some from his twin's mistakes, Guck threw his first sword.
Danica side-stepped it easily, and though the move foolish until an alarm rang off in the back of her head. She leapt to the side, and the sword came back, cutting only a gash across her side, instead of impaling her. It returned to the smirking Guck's hand, who quickly threw his other.
Danica was ready this time, and kicked at the pommel, careful not to touch the electrified blade. It flew off course and stuck in the ceiling up to the hilt. Satisfied that it wouldn't be returned, she met Guck's stab.
Danica ducked under the strike and cross both arms in an 'x' with Guck's wrist at the center. She grabbed him and spun his arm quickly turning the Knight's momentum into a flip. Before he could recover, she twisted his arm, snapping it at the elbow with a quick slam from her knee.
Guck howled in anger, though he really felt little pain, and struggled to his feet, but a firm boot on his chest stopped him. Danica raised her other leg to stomp hard on the Knight's face, but a sudden strike on the back of her head from Muck's own pommel sent her staggering away.
The Knight helped his brother to his feet, and the two couldn't help but smirk as they held out their weapons and urged Danica back in.
***
Sludge dove back in, aiming to slash Pstorm across her pretty little face, but a sudden gust of wind sent him spinning away. He growled, then gasped as a lightning bolt shot forward and struck him again.
He tossed several of his infamous screaming skulls, breaking the girl's concentration while she tried to summon another whirlwind. They grabbed onto her arms, biting with sharpened teeth and creating dozens of little holes.
She cried out, shaking her arms and knocking the evil things loose. Sludge was cackling again and diving forward for another strike. Pstorm threw her arms forward, a wave of psionic energy moving from them.
The spectre shrieked as pain wracked his spirit and mind, gripping his head. He returned the anguish as an emanation of his own.
Pstorm staggered backwards as the dark wave hit her, clouding her vision and making her chest feel tight. Sludge saw the opportunity and quickly rushed forward, spinning another dark web of despair.
Pstorm fell to her knees as it struck her, feeling helpless and alone. She gazed down at the floor, and tears began to drip from her eyes. The back of her mind told her she needed to stand and fight, that this was no time for self-pity, but the rest of her felt doomed. And what did she do whenever things were too much? She ran away. She ran away when her mother was killed, when her friends were killed, when her own time was more than she could bear...
Sludge dropped to the floor and hovered toward the still girl, a hand out to drive deep into her heart and let the chill of death take over, all the while letting his tongue loll out from his feral grin.
***
They had been dueling for what felt like forever. Blightlord had tried summoning his minions to him, but apparently the Legacy Chain had decided to investigate why one of their main bases were no longer responding to their calls. Currently his undead were holding off the intruders, and not faring so well without their master's aid.
And now he was forced to fight blade to flaming blade against Brawler himself. Not that he minded. The satisfaction of the kill would be that much greater...
Burning came in for a quick double-stab low, but Blightlord crossed his blades and came straight down, driving them to the ground. Just as he was about to slice upward, the undead master was sent reeling by a sudden headbutt.
Before he could recover, Blightlord gasped as fiery pain went through his arm. There was a thud, and on odd tingle in his shoulder. He looked down to see his arm lying on the floor and shut his eyes, wondering why this seemed familiar. It had to be a memory of the former occupant of the body.
"Ready to give in?" said Burning as he stepped back, clutching the bleeding wound in his side from where Blightlord's flying swords had impaled him earlier.
The master of undeath took the moment to drink a potion and grab the arm. He held it against his shoulder while the potion knit it back together.
Both were battered, and neither gained much ground. The only difference was Blightlord never tired, merely bored.
"Do you submit now, or will I be tossing you into the cauldron as pieces?" snarled the villain. A large portion of his organic armor was shredded away, and rotted insides were exposed in more than one place.
"I'm not even close to finished yet," said Burning, though he gasped as the poison coursing through his blood sent an agonizing jolt of pain through him, worse than when the sword actually pierced him.
The hero placed one hand on the wall as the other lay at his side, gathering flame. That fire quickly raced up his arm, then through all of him. In only a few seconds his entire form was a bright blaze. Blightlord knew what the hero was trying to accomplish, and growled in anger and frustration as he brought up both his arms, a wall of darkness following them, shielding him.
The entire room erupted in flames as Burning exploded in a massive fireball, the inferno incinerating the tables, equipment, and toxins. The fire died as quickly as it exploded, leaving piles of ashes where objects once stood, and several sections of the room were molten rock.
Burning slumped to the floor, tired. His eyes could barely remain open while he tried to regain strength.
Blightlord let the shield of darkness drop, but at the same time, his body to fell. The shell crumpled as it hit the floor, leaving only a sickly green and black ooze.
For a moment, the room was still. But then the ooze began to crawl forward, toward the hero. Burning's eyes widened, and he tried to move, but the poison wouldn't let him. Already his arms and legs were numb, and pain began to constantly shoot through him.
The Muck more sensed Burning's thoughts than heard them. 'Oh, do not worry. I have no interest in possessing your body. Not while it's in that state. I have much better uses for it, and your soul must remain intact.'
Burning had to wonder what happened to the souls of those Blightlord took over, and if he had done worse than damned another innocent by destroying the old body. He had no more chance for thought, however, as The Muck began to slide up his leg, then his chest, and finally wrap around his head.
He couldn't breathe, but that was only the beginning. It seeped inside his mouth and into his ears and nose, then through his eye sockets, absorbing the enchantment that gave him eyes. It began to eat away at the soft tissues inside his head. Burning's screams of agonized pain only came out as wet gurgles as The Muck went deep to the back of his throat.
All at once the malevolent ooze struck forward, lancing into his brain and causing him to spasm repeatedly. The hero's mind reached out in a pain so intense, the darkness of his empty eye-sight turned blazing white. There was a crack as the ooze split through his skull, brain fluid and it seeping from it.
Burning's hood fell away, The Muck moving with it, sliding back across the floor, revealing a blackened skull picked clean, the jaw broken from the intensity of those last few moments.
The Muck knew what was about to happen though. It was what needed to happen. This time it may have failed, but the advantage of immortality was that you could always try again, even if it took years, you could try again. And at least it could take solace in the horrible pain it had left the hero in before departing to wait until the right time would come again.
The Muck slinked over to a drain and slipped inside.
Burning's gore covered chest began to heat up. A small fire burned around him, then rose into a blaze. It covered his form, and raised him into the air. New flesh and tissue grew over his skull, and the enchantment that gave him sight returned. His brain regenerated, and he became aware of where he was, but much more. But there was no time for thinking about that. Something was just revealed to him, and the hero was stunned, but it would have to wait.
His family was still in trouble. Or at least, one member of it was.
***
As The Muck retreated, his servants in the base collasped and vanished through the shadows. Legacy Chain troops stormed through the halls, looking for answers.
Danica watched as the Grave Knight brothers fell, and sighed in relief. She ran toward the exit, wary of the angered Legacy soldiers storming about, trying to avoid them. She needed to find Pstorm and Burning first. Quickly, she headed back toward the direction her husband was in case he was wounded. Wounded would have been putting it mildly.
***
Pstorm was just about to accept the coming feeling of death when suddenly her depression was gone. She looked up to see an empty hall, and a clear escape path.
Not questioning the change of events, she rushed outside, her brother in tow. Her brother... It would be hard to explain everything to him. But what was most important was that he was taken to the base before it was too late for someone to resurrect him.
She stepped outside into the dark alleyway, and took a moment to breathe, tossing back the hood of the brown robe and letting her hair fall out. Pstorm always felt better in fresh air.
"Thank you for bringing him out here for us." Pstorm turned to see a man in a labcoat, goggles over his head and hands in his jacket pockets floating down to the ground. "We were worried we'd have to bring him in ourself. You really should take better care of the child."
He was younger than the one she knew, but Pstorm recognized him still. "Techno-Tyrant," she said, hate in her eyes.
"Oh don't worry, we're not here to kill you. Elitist just wants the boy. Move along now, you're part is done."
"Oh, 'e is so tired, no?" said a woman with a French accent, coming in behind Pstorm. Her bright pink hair and mismatched eyes stood out from the black and white striped mime get-up the woman wore. Harlequin stroked Void's hair, a sadistic grin spreading across her face.
"Don't you touch him!" shouted Pstorm, turning to blast her with a bolt of lightning, but the woman was faster. Harlequin stared deep into Pstorm's eyes.
''E would be better off with us, no? You should let 'im go.' Pstorm nodded, her eyes vacant as her thoughts from the mental suggestion.
Harlequin smirked, holding the boy up with her mind even as Pstorm's whirlwing dissipated. "Let's just go," said Tyrant, pressing a series of buttons on his wrist. A portal opened, and the two stepped inside, an extra in tow.
Burning and Danica leapt outside just as the villains disappeared. They saw Pstorm slumped against a wall, holding her head and shaking.
"Where's Matt?" said Danica, a touch of fear creeping into her voice, even as she knew the answer.
"They took him," said Pstorm, looking up, her eyes starting to water. "We had him, then two of them showed up and dragged him away. I couldn't even try to stop them and-"
Danica hugged her daughter, silencing the apology, her own eyes watering.
Burning looked to where the portal had stood. He could sense the energies. His entire body felt mystically charged from the resurrection. "It's okay. We'll get Hyp to send someone down here and trace the portal's signal. In the meantime, we need to find Blightlord before he can find a new body."
"How can you even still think of tracking him down?" said Danica, looking up at her husband. "This entire time you've been only after him, and I believed it was because Void was always there to. But now he's gone to hide, and you're still following! Don't you even care?"
Burning's stare was hard. "Of course I do. And I also know that as long as Blightlord's there, even if we do rescue Void, he won't be safe, and neither is Rachel, and neither are we. He wants something, and I know what it is now. I also understand that no matter what he does to me, he can't fully kill me just as much as I can't fully kill him."
What Burning had just told her said a lot to Danica, but it also confused her. She wasn't sure what to say except, "You two should go back to the base. I'll talk with the Legacy Chain."
Burning nodded, placing a hand on Pstorm's shoulder. He spoke the words to a spell, and they vanished.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
Great story.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
Epilogue:
A few days later, Burning got the call from The Legacy Chain. The base had been restored, but Blightlord had left no trail for their mystics to follow. Danica had told them everything they knew, and while they were troubled to say the least, they were grateful that the heroes had 'sufficiently occupied the enemy.'
Pstorm had gone back to Golden Eagle High, hoping to return before anyone missed her, though the way she felt, she thought if she was gone a week no one would care. But still she felt like going back.
Danica was out every night again til almost sunrise hitting the streets for information. Hyper-Man ran some tests, but the portal traces they found actually led to a dimension where all of the Devouring Earth on the planet had evolved into smaller Hamidons. Apparently, Techno-Tyrant knew they would try to follow and scrambled the signal.
Void was likely up again, the mental workings of Harlequin already modifying his memory to the Masters' purposes. Soon he wouldn't remember any of the last few days, unless Deseca were to return. But even then, after her death, he wouldn't be able to recall much else.
Burning had sat in front of his spellbooks for hours, almost as long as Danica was out searching. He tried to find something, anything, to explain why his powers were doing this now, or a way to destroy The Muck without destroying himself in the process.
He knew he shouldn't have been able to come back. No one with regenerative powers could've returned from that kind of death. There was simply no one that powerful. But he still had.
Burning had searched every spellbook, except one. He sighed, and closed his eyes, whispering the words of power to unlock a tiny extra-planar pocket he kept to store this object. A hole of nothing appeared in front, and he reached inside to draw a book.
It was large, made of black leather, and a dull fireball was printed on its cover. Over a course of one hundred years, that fireball grew brighter and brighter, until it blazed with a green flame more alive than the real thing. It had been over eighteen years, and now the image was clear again, though not quite shining.
This was the book from which he received his powers.
He sighed, and turned the pages, browned with age. Nothing in here could help. He'd searched it countless times.
Suddenly, the book flew from his arms, landing on the floor. A fireball arched into the air, and formed a mask. It looked down on Burning and spoke with a great voice that shook the room. "Now thou understands. Now thou art ready. Sit down, that I may tell thee of the true origins of thy powers and thy nemesis."
End
To Be Continued...
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
((And there you have it. The end, finally. Questions, comments, jokes? 
))
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
An excellent tale, Burning.
Truly, yours is a world where dragons live.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
Deseca's eyes narrowed. "I suggest you just go back to sleep and save me the trouble of knocking you out myself."
Pstorm stared at the woman's face. She looked so much like mom but... she... just wasn't. Her mind was all wrong. "Where are we?"
Deseca rolled her eyes, then cracked her knuckles, making echoing pops. For a moment, she stood still, but the next thing Pstorm knew a shadowy fist was ramming hard into her stomach, the force of the blow causing her to lose her breath even through the armor.
Before she could retaliate, another dark blow came across the back of her head, knocking her to the floor. Pstorm began to push herself to her feet, but a firmly placed boot pinned her to the floor.
Deseca dug her foot, smiling maliciously. "I guess I was right to get rid of you in my dimension. What a weak little thing you turn out to be."
Suddenly the undead woman was sent reeling backward as a psychic scream slammed into her mind. She gripped her head, trying to fight away the pain.
Pstorm used a burst of air to rise quickly, then kept it moving around her in a fast circle until a hurricane formed around her. While Deseca was stunned she stepped forward and the winds threw the villainess against a wall. Now it was her who was pinned.
Deseca snarled. "You little brat..." Her eyes began to darken as she radiated power. She took a step through the hurricane, then another, then burst forward, gripping Pstorm by the throat. Her armor creaked and cracked, the metal poking into her throat.
The whirling cloud faded as Pstorm used all her energy to try to break free.
***
Void Brawler listened at the wall. He could hear thuds inside it, ones that definitely weren't caused by rats... He pressed his hands to the spot his 'mom' had disappeared through. Why the hell wouldn't the damn thing open?!
Suddenly the wall next to him shattered, throwing dust and broken stone into the air. Void staggered back, covering his eyes. He saw one shape lurch forward, then get thrown back suddenly. A burst of light shot down onto the downed form, and the air began to smell like ozone.
The dust finally cleared enough for him to see her... That girl again! And she was trying to re-kill his mom! Void growled in rage as he charged forward.
Pstorm stood over Deseca, the cloud above their heads charging a massive amount of energy. This strike would be a finishing blow, the psychic knew. A shame she didn't listen to the sound of an enraged mind as it came close enough to slam two shadowy fists directly into her skull.
There was a crack as her helmet split in two. Blood flowed down the side of Pstorm's face as she stared out in shock. Her knees buckled, then she fell to the floor.
Deseca slowly sat up, wiping blood from her nose. She looked at her son. He was breathing hard and shaking, his hands balled tight. She stood and held out both her arms. She embraced Void, stroking the back of his hair and sh'ing him, all the while grinning at the things she had gained these last few weeks.
Nothing could stop them...
"M-mom?"
"Don't worry, she's gone now... That wicked child will never harm you again. No one will, not while I'm here," said Deseca. Even if the words were false, it didn't help this next sight for Void.
The girl was getting up! But she was dead! How? He tried to call out a warning, but his brain wouldn't respond.
Pstorm turned to the broken wall and grabbed a large stone. She slammed it onto the ground, and the old material broke easily, and the shards bounced back into the air. Pstorm spun fast, arms out, a burst of wind rocketing from, sending the dozens of pieces slamming in and through an off-guard Deseca.
The villainess jerked forward, then coughed. Void's eyes widened in horror as he felt the half-decayed blood splatter his face. He watched his mother slide down, then lay helpless on the floor. What life had been brought back into her eyes had faded... She was gone.
The only sound that could be heard was the soft patter of tears hitting a cold stone floor, and all that remained in the room was a girl and her maddened, grief-struck brother.
***
Grime sighed as he watched from the balcony, invisible. The fool girl... If it weren't for him, these heroes wouldn't have made it this far.
When the weather manipulator fell, and the other two were distracted, he had to teleport down to her quickly. The Lich had drawn a small vial and forced the contents down her throat. After the wound on her head closed and she sputtered, Grime stood and teleported away.
He had to admit, the girl pulled off her part quite well at the end though. Now just to watch and see how this amusing bit would unfold...
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell