Pulse of Vengance
The dead were not pleased
Fire, Sulphur and Rubble everywhere; The
Sanctum of the dead was no more.
They had unintentionally provoked an influential commander of Etherium‘s Airfleet and earned the repercussions immediately. Three hours of constant bombardment until nothing remained. Most of the shrine' staff fell victim to the bombs or the acidic haze going out from the bombs. Silence. Only the crackling of fire can be heard.
That and a dampened call for aid. Suddenly a big piece of rubble fell over revealing one of the shrine guardians; those who were gifted with magical strength enhancements.
He looked around searching for other survivors but he didn’t delve much further into the ruins of this expansive Sanctum.
He suddenly began to hold his tummy; a dark power grew suddenly stronger. Then a bang! The guardian got hit directly by a wave of black magic sonic booming out of the ruins.
Fear grew in his eyes as he finally recovered himself from the flight across the room. He wasn’t alone anymore. The pulse must have done something, something truly devastating. The sanctum of the dead was not called out of fun that way, all important personalities of Rubeus of the past millennium got buried in this very place: The crypt of remembrance.
Well, the part with being buried was not that correct anymore. As the guardian Looked into the lifeless dark glowing eyeholes of a mummified dead, he immediately recognized the late elven lord, who got buried here only a year ago. But now he was standing again, holding a big curved sword, ready to take the guardians life. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run and warn his people, but cold, dead hands were grabbing his ankles from below rendering him to trip and fall hard, back into the rubble. Then the sword got hurled into his direction with a strong throw impaling him on a former support beam of the Sanctum. His life was fading, he saw himself getting pulled out of his own body by supernatural forces.
Red, dangerous-looking, eyes were looking at him in envy, before cutting his soul with demonic razor-sharp blades into pieces just to restructure it. His soul got then sent back into his body returning his life once again. If you can call that life. Dark, demonic thoughts were corrupting his mind as he got turned into a revenant. With dark, empty, eyes he looked up to his former lord, pulled the sword out of his torso and bowed down presenting him his sword once more.
They had unintentionally provoked an influential commander of Etherium‘s Airfleet and earned the repercussions immediately. Three hours of constant bombardment until nothing remained. Most of the shrine' staff fell victim to the bombs or the acidic haze going out from the bombs. Silence. Only the crackling of fire can be heard.
That and a dampened call for aid. Suddenly a big piece of rubble fell over revealing one of the shrine guardians; those who were gifted with magical strength enhancements.
He looked around searching for other survivors but he didn’t delve much further into the ruins of this expansive Sanctum.
He suddenly began to hold his tummy; a dark power grew suddenly stronger. Then a bang! The guardian got hit directly by a wave of black magic sonic booming out of the ruins.
Fear grew in his eyes as he finally recovered himself from the flight across the room. He wasn’t alone anymore. The pulse must have done something, something truly devastating. The sanctum of the dead was not called out of fun that way, all important personalities of Rubeus of the past millennium got buried in this very place: The crypt of remembrance.
Well, the part with being buried was not that correct anymore. As the guardian Looked into the lifeless dark glowing eyeholes of a mummified dead, he immediately recognized the late elven lord, who got buried here only a year ago. But now he was standing again, holding a big curved sword, ready to take the guardians life. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run and warn his people, but cold, dead hands were grabbing his ankles from below rendering him to trip and fall hard, back into the rubble. Then the sword got hurled into his direction with a strong throw impaling him on a former support beam of the Sanctum. His life was fading, he saw himself getting pulled out of his own body by supernatural forces.
Red, dangerous-looking, eyes were looking at him in envy, before cutting his soul with demonic razor-sharp blades into pieces just to restructure it. His soul got then sent back into his body returning his life once again. If you can call that life. Dark, demonic thoughts were corrupting his mind as he got turned into a revenant. With dark, empty, eyes he looked up to his former lord, pulled the sword out of his torso and bowed down presenting him his sword once more.
Type
Metaphysical, Arcane
Manifestation
The sky turned dark, the flora and fauna wilted away. The rested got upheaved by this sacrilegious doing and got reanimated and strengthened through the pulse of Vengeance. The arcane threads of the necromancer are visible everywhere pulling themselves through every building of this former sacred ground. These threads seem to control the undead roaming around there.
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