Deathless Reign Ch 01

Deathless Reign

Chapter 1

By: Noobwriter96

Blanche's blazing green eyes peered through the barricaded windows of their abode, her breathe swirling amidst the cold spring air. There were fifteen other souls all huddled together for warmth deep in their abode and yet it was deathly quiet. Amongst them. There was the scuffle of clothes rubbing one against another. The faint whispering of people trying to distract themselves. So, the calm orange fire that was their only light source dance and flicked amidst it all.

Midday day already and still no one dare to venture out of their homes. Their doors barred shut. With each turn of winter, it was getting worse and worse. where once the trees would bloom and meat was aplenty can be taken from the forest. now the sound its makes was a dying one. For the dead roams freely in the ground. the realm rent asunder. Villages like hers were left to defend themselves from the horrors of the dark.

She could tell where the sun was, smothered behind thick layers of gray clouds up and above. Sunlight too weak to dispel the accursed fog that had prevailed for three days straight now. But on this morning, there was that telltale silence in the air. But most of all her gaze lingered on the three shadows on Deadwind's Hill.

She prayed to the goddess, Nyella muttering her forsworn prayer. She had been chafing in her remark that the gods have left them. but now in this moment that could be her last, she found herself praying.

A quarter of a league away, the three hooded figures have travelled far and wide to this quiet, secluded nook of the realm. Should any take a look at them they would immediately cower and they were right to do so. They did not blame them. For they were indeed aspirants of darker forces. Apprentices of the Lichlord. They were second sons, bound to inherit nothing. And thus, sought for other means to enrich themselves. With the crown severely weakened by war after war, they could no longer oversee those that practice the dark arts. Rumors that even the Grand Lord of the Realm had fallen ill and had not named an heir amongst his seven children. Assailed with conflicts from within and without. It was time ripe for any would be despots to stake a claim on the continent-spanning realm of the Wrouneian Dynasty.

They had been roughly a year into their service and their apprenticeship in the dark arts. But the constraints placed upon the lichlord upon his apprentices were downright frustrating. He was paranoid that should any take up arms by the very powers he teaches.

Which is why as soon as opportunity presented itself, they snuck away to this remote part of the realm. they would carve themselves their own kingdom with the powers they held.

True enough this place was abounded with untapped primal power, they were fools not to take this realm for themselves. They had been fooled by the lichlord, believing in his lies that the powers here were not meant to be unleashed. Lies told by a paranoid old fool.

Still, this was a region not bereft of danger. Numbering in the dozens and ranging from paltry collection to grand armies, did a great many despots have already carved out territories of their own. and yet even themselves have staved off to wander this close to the forest.

Tales from a dark god slumbering within region to unholy number of wilddead roaming the forests.

Together the three joined their powers and called upon the Deathless ones' from their slumber. They set loose their walls and the very air lays till as the power lifted them three feet in the air. The air trembled. Eyes glowing green as the sparks of the deadlight, green viscous lightning dancing in the space around them.

Their grasp was wide and ever extending. Looking deep in the blood scarred deep into the ground. Hundreds of battles waged in these lands, the ground drenched int eh blood of thousands. There was a crude technicality in thein. A crude but usable dredged up the dead and forcing their will upon them.

It was something they had done every day for the past year. But this was the first of this magnitude. They had read the tomes and scrolls. But they were never allowed to Raise no more than three.

Now, they were to raise a hundred.

More than enough to obliterate the inhabitants of the village.

As they reached the final act of the ritual, a releasing of the pool of desires from their handpicked. Dead warriors, angry souls and souls with deep longing and full of anguish. All that was needed now was to burst and release the pool of their calling they sucked in deep breathing in all the that was left behind of their passing, forming a pool held together by their own will.

All that was left now was to unleash this call, to disturb and wake them from their slumber. As one, the three let loose, to open and call the dead to their will. A hundred hungry dead would rise from their gravely slumber to do their bidding.

Nothing. The trees lay still. The very air as silent as it was before. There was no unleashing of power.

The Deadpool still holds together. It was supposed to be like a great loosening of breath, if a man were to suck in deep and let go of a breath he held. It was gradual unletting of the power.

The three apprentices looked to one another, if ever one of them botched up their part the power would still be unleashed.

Which left them the alternative.

It was ill advised. For it caused a great thundering ruckus. Not just the mortal plane but the spirit plane as well, a thunderous roar that spanned on both planes.

They could have been surgical. They could have been meticulous.

But too long had their proper place in the world been denied to them, let it be marked with a thunderous roar.

They disrupted volatile flow within, and with it, the light burst, followed by a thunderous blast, that knocked them to the very ground.

For the first time the trees shifted and moved. From somewhere, a flock of birds flapped away and rustling the world with the flapping of their wings. A great wind swirled all about, dispelling the mist momentarily and then.... nothing.

Until the ground started shaking.

Followed by the clambering disturbance of something breaking free of the hard dirt.

Like forest blooms sprouting, dozens of withered limbs reached up towards the world above. They were old warriors of wars centuries past. All rising up and awaiting their command.

Gleefully, the dark apprentices gave it to them, pointing their will towards the squalor village not a league away.

Bloodlust high in their veins, the three were eager to witness firsthand the strength of their power. At last, the beginning of their conquest.

Their daydreaming was shattered by an earth-rending roar.

All three turned their heads towards the deep forest. Their own undead army itself stopped dead on its track. They witnessed as a portion of trees swayed and wavered. A disturbance amongst the canopy as something beneath them moved towards the apprentices. The very earth itself shook in crashing quakes as something powerful came their way.

What had they awakened?