It was 7 am the following morning. Daybreak had not yet broken. The Grand Hall was a disaster. Chairs all over the floor, the stench of dead uneaten mortal flesh began to become ripe. Blood on the floors and tables. Articles of clothing strewn about from the vampiress bunch. They get a tad rowdy after some wine, some blood and some bloodwine. D'Sar and Alfred, his faithful manservant surveyed the aftermath. They walked slowly as if they were examining the ruins of a city after battle.
"A literal bloody mess this is Alfred. But I can't say they didn't have their spirits lifted. Your team can handle this of course, can they not, old chum?" Darkstar broke the verbal silence. "Certainly Sir... I've a double duty team on it. They are due in an hour." replied his efficient gentleman's gentleman.
"Alfred, what's that large crack in the floor? It wasn't there yesterday..."
"The governess, sire." he explained." At her gigantic size, somehow she actually imbibed enough from the vats that she fell on her posterior. A most embarrassing situation if you ask me. But no matter. Everyone else was so far into their fun, they either missed it or laughed it off. Except for some poor slave she squashed like a bug as she stumbled. Now unlike those of our undead comrades under the effects of the Elements of Endarkenment where they take only one quarter of the actual damage they would normally endure in battle, making the undead even that much more...undead, this unwitting sap got in her path and disappeared under her boot. I believe we're standing in the exact pile of ooze now." said Alfred with disgust as they both looked down at the pile of bones and blood. Darkstar rolled his eyes and mustered something about his bloodied new dress boots then turned to Alfred to say "I think it's time I went off to my chambers. My Crypt calls... Handle the cleanup supervision. I must be off." As he walked away from Alfred, we waived his hand up into the air as if to say "dark eve", only he wasn't looking at anything but the door before him. He was tired in a way. Not the usual tired. He's a God. How tired can they get? This was more of a fatigue. Something's were weighing on his mind.
As he walked outside, he could see the sunrise. Were these the olden days before he were a demonlord, he would have burnt to cinders at the first rays of light. As he looked past the dark dismal clouds that lingered over the Citadel, he saw the beams of sunlight bathe the other realms. He thought for a moment and then leapt to the air with a mighty god powered bound. With that, the slurping noise made it's presence known as the batlike folds of leathery flesh extended from his back and continued his lift into the air.
High into the morning air, he headed towards the sun over Kjeldoran. As he was reaching the outskirts of the city he looked over to the southwest. A sound caught him. His bat hearing heard a clash of swords and grunts. It was from the courtyards of Castle Ahriman.
Curiosity got the better of the man-bat as he circled high above out of mortal view. This gave him an idea... Something about the sounds he heard made him think and remember. "Blast you, Armanon!! I don't know how Farg puts up with your showboating!" could be heard from the clashing combatants. As a General, D'Sar had engineered many a battle and always enjoys watching a good skirmish. He wanted a better look at this brawl, undetected. Stepping through the folds of time and interdimensional space, he left a cloud of brimstone behind him as he left his altitude orbit and reappeared about 30 yards from the warrior, Armanon, who once had a brother in the D'Sari. How this one ended up with the Dark Ahrmy, he didn't know. He often wondered what his brother taught him over the years. A mild incantation and the D'Sari Master was invisible to any mortal. Stepping closer he watched as he leaned against a tree and watched the sparring match. A thrust of a sword to Armanons ear caused him to move his shoulders quickly to the right. With his left gauntlet, he deflected the glancing blow, twisting his glove hand to catch the blade as he swung his arm around the shaft itself. Using his right hand, he quickly thrust his fist into the blade held steady by his under arm and shattered it.
"Remarkable.... The Darkforce is strong in this one...."like his brother before him. He fights well... Too well." he muttered to himself wondering what D'Sarian secrets had been lost and leaked throughout the realms.
Watching as they gathered and chortled, he noticed there were quite a bit of them. They each had shields emblazoned with Ahrimans armored fist of fire symbol. Even their practice fatigues had Ahrmy symbols or colors on it. Some had slogans: "Tactician of the Shade" or "Alchemist of the Shade". That was a D'Sari trait.... An old one, but D'Sarian nonetheless. Back when the D'Sari were a fledgling society, the only way one knew one D'Sari from another was the color combination they wore. "Such pride... Such a show of force. We're to combat this?? No... Alas, I shall improve upon it. The D'Sari have become lax. I have been to familiar with them. I have let them become bloated pompous egos. Look at THIS! This is organization! This is structure. This is unison! And so MANY of them... All individuals yet soldiers unified in mind, body, spirit, fit and finish. I've not seen this for quite sometime. This was the way of the D'Sari! No wonder there are some many heads of the dead of kills on the victory spires. The seem to outgun us 3 to 1!!" Darkstar gasped to himself. "Something must be done about all of this if we're to win this war. Elements of Endarkenment aside, we need every advantage. I could kick myself for being so undisciplined! I must have words with my officers.... he continues to mutter as he leaps skyward once again to return to the Citadel with an entirely reformatted outlook on those he may have underestimated.
Inside the Grand Hall, the spread was in it's finest grandeur. It's hard keeping the right foods for the right undead. There were mortals chained beneath tables with their shaved skulls sticking through holes at one table. This was for the zombies. They had an insatiable appetite for mortal brains of differing types. It's been said that half Orc brain is saltier than whole Orc and that human brain is softer and more buttery in texture than say, Drow. The best, by mass opinion... is Elf brain. The worst is Minotaur brain. Too small, not satisfying and bitter. Mallets and chisels were supplied to make access to the fresh warm cranial meat easier.
Vampires got fresh young virgins strapped to tables with the bare necks open for display. Some had tubes injected into them, leading to a dispensing device. Platinum goblets lined the tableside as those thirsty for blood would take one and fill it with the sweet crimson nectar of life. Vampires can be rather cruel. They enjoy psychologically teasing the prey before they partake in it. Taunting them with words make them feel dominant and powerful. Vampires can tend to be overly egotistical.
Heucevas are easier. Like ghosts and wisps, they don't eat. They're just large skeletons with no organs to sustain. Demons, on the other hand, eat anything alive or dead. It doesn't even necessarily have to be good. They're sloppy gluttons at times. They tend to leave a mess.
As the festivities rambled on, D'Sar walks to different tables. He's a being of the people, as long as they are HIS people. During occasions such as this, flanked by his highest officers, he meanders from table to table, shaking hands and making the brood know that they are one huge family. He's truly a man about town.
"Ozmar!" shouts the Darklord with a wry smile. " I see General Rixx has been rather meager on his rewards for your quests. He doesn't hate you... He just sees great potential for leadership in you. He tells me he expects you and Shamra to be quite the pair of D'Sari Knights one day! He only pushes those he sees greatness in." says the endarkened pope of evil as he stops at the table of Shamra, Dew, Ozmar, Vox, Naythyn and Vlasco and spreads compliments over the past battles and asks that the kill board start rising in stats. "Yo-HO, M'LORD!!!" they shout in unison. This makes him smile. Captain Duragon sits at the head of this table, polishing one of the medals on his dress blacks. They were discussing which of the factions, be it D'Sari Red or Black that they would wish to be members of. There's great excitement over what Darkstar said in his speech. He stops to toast with them, raising his goblet and continues on.
"M'Lord... Something pressing weighs on the mind of myself and Orin" Commodore Kurgan whispers into his ear. "May we speak somewhere more... Quiet?"
D'Sar nods, motions for Commodore Orin to follow as they slip into a back ready room unnoticed.
The room is dimly lit with two candles on the large polished wooden table, sitting on a red velvet tablecloth. Torches are on the walls, but only two themselves. A door off to the rear leads to a secret tunnel leading off to some other mysterious place in the Citadel. A lone D'Sari flag is behind the largest chair, which is D'Sars at the head of the room. Each warrior puts his goblet on the table. The two Commodores pull out their chairs.
"Gentlemen... What vexes you?" He says as he motions for them to sit. D'Sar prefers to stand behind his high backed chair as his officers sit to each side.
Kurgan begins. "My Liege, it's the Church of Shadows. Kaiko, their leader and I have been speaking on occasion. He mentioned something about a conversation you once had with him about common goals. Yet at a moments notice, we strike at their forces..."
The Darklord interrupts. he'd anticipated the eventual conversation. "Aaaah yes.... Kaiko. Say no more. I know what's on your mind. Let me explain." His pacing quickens a bit as he discusses the Church. "Kaiko is a young upstart. Driven, passionate and mildly megalomaniacal. In many ways he reminds me of myself in my younger days. Young...impetuous. Thirsty for power, hungry for absolution." D'Sar muses. "I remember this. Allow me to spell it out for you. We are in a war to rid the realms of the Dark Ahrmy. Now this may sound strange, but the Church and ourselves are not allies. There is no official treaty and there shall be none. However, in the event of a public battle, the Dark Ahrmy, as a target, is tantamount. We may fight shoulder to shoulder for the same cause; to destroy Ahriman and his forces to the end of implementing me as Dark Liege of the realms. There should be no common denominator but that. By all means, you may clash heads with whomever you wish in their clan if you see no real enemy about. Their goal is the same as ours. Survival of the fittest and strongest clan, yet above all the end of the Order of the Tainted Shade and the fall of the house of Ahriman."
Darkstar paced about the table. His gestures were as passionate as his billowing cloak that flowed majestically behind him. Whether speaking to two or two hundred thousand, everyone got the same energy. It was a pleasure to watch him speak. To hold court with him was a treat. "We have an agenda, " he continued, "to rid the realms of Ahriman, his forces and whomever stands in the way of true evil and darkness. The Church has values I admire in some ways. That's why I believe that this uneasy partnership has merit. Of course, after Ahriman and his band are gone, we'll move onto others that vex us, like the Ninth Circle. Their very existence insults mine and ours. Worshipping a god of evil they don't even know exists.... Preposterous! 'Satan'. Hmmmphh! I am the only great Satan here. I shall not ramble. I will say thus unto you. If you have to hire the wretched Den of Iniquity AND the Dominion as mercenaries and Assassins, then do it! Spare no expense! To increase our number, I want you to go into the Temple Square and advertise our intent on growth. I have seen the plans for Kaiko's advertising campaign and I find it brilliant. We MUST do the same. Get some people on it immediately. Now with all that out of the way, shall we return to the party? I have allot of dance cards to fill tonight." quipped the Darkstar as he graciously held the door for his officers and smiled. "This is a party gentlemen. I know it was a somber funeral before, but lets lift some spirits above, so to speak...shall we?"
And with that, the door from the conference room was closed as they re-entered the party.
It had been a series of long campaigns as the war lingered on. It was a peculiar war because it seemed almost...unofficial. No direct declarations of war were ever succinctly professed. The sides were becoming more prominent however. Mostly it was all clan disputes. The Stygian Temple was a constant thorn in the broods side. The Crusaders were staunchly declaring the D'Sari as enemies simply because they have some prejudicial hatred towards the undead. They believe them to be animated abominations of life. Quite a rude thought if you were to ask Lord Darkstar. But could you expect any less from a clan whose patron was Navarre? It seems he still carried grudges over the last deity battle between man bat and raven.
D'Sar sat at the head of the table. It was a long wooden conference table with his department heads flanking each side.
"Gentlemen... We have issues. Rather pressing ones." D'Sar began. "First of all, we are to separate into two divisions. With our size and strength, we need to divide to conquer and integrate at the most opportune time to conquest. There will be two factions of the D'Sari. D'Sari Red and D'Sari Black. Commodore Kurgan.... You will lead Red squad. Red for the blood of our enemies to fill the bloodwine vats. Both factions will have strike teams..."
He trailed off with more strategic jargon. Kurgan, now more comfortable as one of D'Sar's most trusted commanders, was able to be more frank with his lord, while not seeming out of turn.
"M'lord... A question." Kurgan politely interrupted. D'Sar gave him an acknowledging nod as he continued his query of; "Whom shall lead D'Sari Black?"
"OH! I'm glad you asked. " With a sly grin he slowly turned to his opposite side across from Kurgan and looked to the heuceva next to him.
"No better heucevan can I think of to mirror your efforts than Captain Orin. Or should I say...COMMODORE Orin." he beamed. "Congratualtions old chum. It's been a long ride for you since our days in the Tower of High Sorcery...You shall lead your Squadron Sinister again as D'Sari Black. Show them the darkness they deserve. Let's give our new Commodore a round of applause, shall we? And lets extend to him all the same respect you give Commodore Kurgan!"
They raised their glasses of bloodwine to him and adulated his ascension in rank. D'Sar began to continue with a more serious tone.
"My brood... The war grows to higher proportions. More and more they wage against us. We must continue to assimilate more warriors. Convert those dying on the battlefield to the undead..." Turning his head to Vampire command he barked, "Vampires, you must turn more unsuspectiong mortals into the undead. I want anything that once pumped blood and anger in the same breath to forge the Darkforce through their veins. Let them know that we have room for any and all worthy warriors in our realm of the darkness. We shall conquer all!"
They cheered in their seats then stood to attention and saluted with great vigor. "Yo-HO, My Lord!" they shouted.
Somberly he let his eyes lower as he went on.
"Now with a heavy head, we must attend to the troops outside at the ceremony and let them know that all is not lost as we put one of our own to permanent rest. I've a surprise announcement for you all there also."
They followed D'Sar in procession. The Dark Orchestra played D'Sar's Imperial March. Spirits lifted only slightly for they knew to expect more, for D'Sar was known for his uprising speeches.
It was a dark dismal day outside at the Citadel Sinister as they all stood behind the compound at it's place of eternal resting. Yes, there are times when the undead just simply STAY dead. The trees wound and gnarled into the sky, leafless and lifeless, even in Kjeldorans late springtime. The crowds of warriors gathered for Lord D'Sar to speak to his forces, in hopes of some sort of inspiration.
The D'Sari stood fast at the ceremony. Another had fallen in battle. This time they had lost a true warrior.
"This lieutenant showed great diligence and dedication to the Brood. He had more lives than a cat, however this was one life spent too many. The gods have seen it fit to clear the realms of his memory... Yet we shall never forget his service to the D'Sarian Order." D'Sar eulogized.
As they draped the D'Sarian flag over his crypt for the last time, they laid the warrior into the ground. Anthraxia wiped a tear from her tiny pixie eye. It was hard to see an undead pass into eternity. Worse yet, this one was annihilated by the gods for unknowing treachery. He had betrayed the trust of the Kitten Goddess and her wrath had made him an example to which even the great orator, the mighty Darkstar, could not argue his case. Intellocrats are not one to lose when logic prevails. All that was left now was to give the fallen officer a warriors funeral as he would never walk the realms again.
"My brood.... With whom I love as brethren, family and comrades... This is not a day to mourn. This is a day to rejoice. Our numbers have been quickly increasing. Old friends return to us, like Vlasco and Ozmar, one of the original D'Sari when I campaigned to gain the Tower as a clan of our own... Shamra, an old warrior who has finally chosen after much consideration, his path to glory. In turn we've said goodbye to many whom just could not celebrate the glory of the dark side. We restructure to compensate, for our reign as the realms current strongest clan...is slipping. The Order of the Tainted Shade is creating more havoc than desired. The Dark Ahrmy is STEALING our thunder so to speak. They grow in greater unison. The numbers of dead at their hands has DOUBLED ours. Between them and the Stygians, there are forces afoot that are making our jobs much harder. The line must be drawn HERE! THIS far...NO further! I believe we can continue to streamline ourselves into a brood force that will eventually win this war!"
The crowd cheered. They enjoyed D'Sars speeches. He was eloquent, exuding a commanding gait and an aire of class. His words rolled off so smoothly, he could be telling you your house was on fire and you'd smile. Everyone was in dress uniform for the ceremony of course. Polished and shined, they all stood with pride as he continued.
"In the past months we have been rebuilding the Citadel from that outdated design of the Tower, with new wings, catacombs and structures. You'll notice some of the newer partners in crime of the Citadel, from Orba, the 900 year old D'Sari Headmaster and Zarathustra as clan healer, the ever voluptuous but deadly Koruptad, our armorer and of course that old salty dog, General Rixx as your questmaster. They are here to make your tenure easier as D'Sari knights and warriors and apprentices."
D'sar geared up for the big finish and continued. "Recently, some of the other enemy clans had learned new magicks in which they became more difficult to defeat."
The brood groaned loudly with that mention as they remembered several skirmishes where they were severly beaten to the point of retreat. D'Sar waved his two hands up and down slightly to motion for them all to settle down so he may continue.
"Not to be outdone, Orba and a team of our best magicians have come to a solution. Hidden within the realms are four disguised Darkforce stones with which the names and descriptions will be secretly passed unto you. These clan stones, whence placed in the D'Sarian Altar, will unleash one of the most earth shattering, empowering clanwide spells ever! The Darkforce will course through your veins to the point of a beserker fury where NO ONE may stand in your way! My friends, I invite you to unleash... the Elements of Endarkenment!!" Darkstar shouted. His voice bellowed in echo to the highest rooftops.
With that, a magus placed the fourth stone, gathered from scattered secret hiding places in the realms, into the four appropriate spots at the front of the alter up high in the Citadel chapel. The ground trembled as thunder with no cause rumbled through the lands. The skies grew darker still as day appeared to instantly turn to night. The clouds, black and ominous, swirled about in hurricane force as lightning arched down upon the realms. The entire brood began to double over. At first they thought they were in pain when in fact the burning they were feeling actually felt quite splendid. As they each looked up at each other, they all saw a mild dark glow about their bodies. Their eyes glowed brightly and even smouldered with energy. You could hear first the crackling of energies swirling about each and every broodmate. Then in unison they all thrust their heads up and emitted a loud howl. The world seemed to tremble to the sound.
As children now ran inside their homes, shopkeeps would close their doors. Mothers locked the shutters of their homes. Farmers quickly herded livestock within barns and locked them away. Fear began to run rampant throught the realms. It was a NEW time of Darkness in Kjeldoran.
The brood all looked at each other, admiring each and every one of their newly transformed imagery. Some warriors feeling overly invincible, chose to run ram-like into each other, butting heads or bouncing chest to chest off each other and laughing heartily.
Then all simultaneously let out a huge roaring cackle and laughed menacingly while swigging bloodwine goblets passed out by enslaved zombies as they cheered Lord Darkstar, for he was delivering all that he had promised. A new home, a new structure and the means to become the greatest clan of evil the realms had ever seen! They applauded him as he grabbed the edge of his cloak and turned on his heels in a swirling motion, closely followed by Commodores Kurgan and Orin to head towards the Grand Hall.
Captain Duragon ordered everyones dismissal to the reception awaiting them. A new day was endarkening. Only in the land of the undead does it seem fitting they can they can turn the ultimate passing into a positive notion...and a warning of impending DOOM for all outside the compound.