Super Cool Copy/Paste Story Time: The Paladinstrel of Death DEATH: “Ishtar … my chosen .. change is coming … a change that not even I can alter and the change threatens the balance I have been sworn to keep … for so long I have walked these worlds, not just this one but the countless more that rest far beyond your bubble of thinking and it is a moment that will define this realm in its balance with the rest” His hand pulsed as energy’s began to swirl around both figures, a black miasma and dark smoke stretching along death and onto Ishtar’s skin “Far from now … something will change, something will build and then it will break and if it does its chain will bring this world and many others into the fold of a mass reaping ..” the words leaving deaths mouth he stepped forwards and his form wrapped itself around his chosen. Blackness was upon Ishtar, swirling around him, deaths hands gliding along his body, freezing everything they touched, deaths face could be seen fading and reappearing all around the man, pain flickering from different places, Ishtar’s heart … his mind … his body and deaths voice came from everywhere. “DO NOT LET THIS WORLD FALL INTO MY HANDS MY CHOSEN, DO NOT LET THE FINAL BALANCE BREAK, FORM WHAT YOU WILL, BRING THOSE TOGETHER THAT WILL STAND WITH YOU AND FROM IT YOU WILL SAVE MORE LIVES THEN YOU COULD EVER SEND TO ME … DO YOU UNDERSTAND” Deaths face appearing directly infront of his chosen, but in its true form a mass of emotion, souls and cosmic energy that would have melted the mans eyes if not for deaths hand that forced the mans soul to not shattered upon such power. ISHTAR: Ishtar was a barely-breathing shell of a man as he felt Death’s touch. Each flickering of darkness that reached through the flesh of Julian the Poet breathed into the inhabiting soul of the Black Orc Prophet, the Son of Chief Grot’bak and heir to the long lost Tribe Beneath the Moon. Each touch of Death’s miasma, each and every word echoing throughout his body, each moment of the embrace: Ishtar’s soul felt himself grow stronger by the connection to his truest Source. His eye had filled with darkness, his eyelids batting rapidly as he absorbed Death’s commands into the very core of his spirit: A condition broken as Death’s voice rose in tremendous power within the Skald’s mind. His vision cleared, Ishtar gazed deeply into the true face of Death. He could feel the flesh of his given body weaken and strain, but at his core he felt the blessing and strength of this glorious honour. Never before could he have imagined such a service in Death’s name, yet it was his. No greater gift could have been given. His eyes remained locked. The words he spoke emanated from the depths of his soul, echoing within his flesh as his lips birthed the promise of the soul: “As you Will it, my Lord and Master: I shall not fail you, no matter the cost. “ DEATH: Deaths presence suddenly vanished, purposely for questions pushed the soul for answers, everything vanishing the chosen still felt deaths touch upon his shoulder for death was close now, closer then he had ever been and his eyes would be cast upon his chosen for some time ISHTAR: (( Save vs. Death [DC 10: Death does not intend Ishtar to die]: Roll 10 + 7 = 17 )) [ Success ] The Skald felt his body’s weakness as Death vanished from his place, and all his summoned trinkets with him. The Skull of Death upon his right shoulder seemed to glow from Death’s touch, though his flesh beneath could feel the throbbing burn that served to remind him of his promise: So he would know Death was evermore watching him, moving with him, and setting right the balance of the world. The weakness dispelled by his strengthened resolve and purpose, Ishtar rose with a dark fire within his heart: The burning righteousness of Death’s Duty.
Posted on: Tue, 28 Jan 2014 14:35:08 +0000
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