"My lord I failed you.."
It haunted him in his dreams and while he was awake. The primary responsiblity of the Tactician was to deliver battle plans to the front line and come up with solid tactics to use in battle. This time he had failed. The High King of the Shade, Farg, was killed and his corpse taken by the infedels of the Ninth Circle during a out numbered attack in the city of Kjeldoran.
The king was furious, and with just reason. For all his work Aramanon had failed to protect his king, but there was revenge to be had. It would happen soon enough.
Not long after the death of Farg the secret location of the Ninth's clan was discovered by Tirus, long standing sorceror and the Catalyst of Despair of the Order. It was while he was training that the voice of his diety Ahriman spoke throughout the halls in a voice that shook the very foundations.
"RAID THEM ALL!"
His will would be done..
Hours later the ever quiet and secretive sorceror summoned the tactician to the hall where Nazira sat calmly wearing the Kings armor and wielding his blade. He was the one that was targetted, sworn by Armanon at the time of the Kings death that his blood would spill for the injustice done. With a quick plan set into action the Tactician threw his opponent into the hall where Tirus made quick work to scorch his body with the fires of Armageddon.
The sword Absolute Night broke free of its confines along the back of the Tactician and its blade flooded to life. Black fire lacing across the crystalline blade etched runes of Ahrimans will upon the captured souls. Even as Nazira shouted for help, trying in vein to bash away the two violators of his clan hall, the sword and the magic of the sorceror ripped away the armor and flesh from the titans bones.
As the body lay broken, dead upon a pool of scattered blood, Armanon rose high the blade of Absolute Night and absorbed the soul of the fallen enemy. The corpse was butchered quickly after and finally, the equipment of his King was back in his hands. He had fufilled his promise.
Tirus smiled, "We did well Armanon."
The tactician nodded quietly, "Yes, now to go raise the king. This sword belongs in his hands, not mine."
Tirus bowed and dissipeared in whisps of shadows and flame as Armanon ran through the portal and into the city of Kjeldoran. It was here that he was free of the Ninth Circles magic of their hall and he was free to call upon the will of Ahriman to whisk him away back to his own Castle.
In the throne room, where Demerol and Farg sat upon their thrones, Armanon and Tirus walked side by side up to the great kings and laid out the equipment and weapons.
"My lord," Armanon bowed his head respectfully "With the help of Tirus, I have fufilled my promise."
Farg smiled ruefully, "Yes, and I never doubted you would."
The King was back, the bandit Nazira had been banished from the realm by the blade Absolute Night. Soon there after, in ritualistic suicide other members of the weakening Circle took their souls. But a new threat would arrise, a leader had been hand picked by the Gods from their army, and surely blood would rain in response. Something the Tactician and the Knights of Ahriman looked forward too, finally war was at hand.
Posted by Armanon at May 31, 2005 11:57 PM