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 Post Posted: Sun Jul 30, 2006 7:59 pm 
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Typhus set out to do what his visions had shown him. His search for the four places his gods had chosen was not long for he had been near all of them at some point in time in his life. His travel aided by his gods quickened by forces beyond his control.

He came to the first place, near the lair of a foul and defiling beast and knelt. As he carefully spoke the incantation given in his visions the ground opened before him. Spilling forth were millions of carrion insect and biting creatures to foul for words. They formed a living alter of disease and pestilence. The voice of The Great Unclean one spoke loudly in his ear. "Let all who wish to follow my way. Come let them learn that disease can lessen the pain of wounds and bring the dead back to fight. Let them learn that this power comes at a price. Let them come and ask for favors of me and let the Dark Ways lead them." With this a pit full of the liquids of one thousand infected wounds opened beneath the altar ready for followers to come and ask for power.


He then traveled to the second location deep in the desolate land on the borders of the Kingdom. Here once again he knelt and spoke the incantation given him in his vision. From nothingness a large library formed. In it were tomes of forgotten lore and dark knowledge once forgotten by all the races of the land. The Lord of Change then spoke. "This is the Dark Library, let those who seek the power of dark magic come and read these tomes. Let them find the knowledge they seek. Let them know that this knowledge comes with a price. It shall warp them in minor ways they will bend before me." With this stated two statues at the entrance to the Dark Library stepped forward to guard those that came to seek dark knowledge.


He then came to third place a quiet glade that he knew would remain quiet no longer. He knelt and spoke yet another incantation. Before him a torture chamber. Upon the implements of torture were creatures lost in agony and ecstasy. Then The Keeper of Secrets spoke. " Let those that seek pleasure through pain come. Let those that can find the truth in my maddening songs come to this place. I will teach them through lessons of pleasure and pain." Typhus looked upon this scene and was pleased.


At the fourth and final place Typhus found a small pool. He waded into the pool and knelt. He watched with as the water turned to blood and an alter made of skulls of all kinds rose before. Then the Blood God spoke. "Let those that have a lust for blood come here. Let them add to my ocean of blood. Let them add to the mountain of sculls my bronze throne rests upon. I promise no secrets of forgotten lore only my aid in the destruction of their enemies." Typhus look at this alter and knew then that the power of this one had waxed while the others had waned. HE also knew that since he worshipped them as a pantheon he must follow the one whose power was greatest.

He came back to finders keep and found that some of the Druids power grew. While the Healers and Assassins remained untouched. He knew what must be done though he had stood against the Barbarian once, he may have to stand with him now. His gods would let him know, for know he has no power it all being spent to allow his gods to form their own alters. He lays down his spell book and picks up his old yet well-balanced sword. "I stand alone no longer backing the Queen, not yet willing to side with Chaos. I can only hope my decision will be made easier by upcoming events." With this he walked slowly back to his new home small and unassuming wishing he could put the wars yet to come behind him.

_________________
Baronet Typhus Deathcaller
Guildmaster of Healers
Master Healer
Kracker Baron


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 Post Posted: Fri Sep 01, 2006 9:26 am 
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The child sits patiently in the dark corner of the monastery. His small hands tremble as he slides the crumbling pages with great care and earnest. His excited breath betrays all forms of fear.

The candle light flickers, startling him.

He reads.

----------------------

Deus Sanguinarius

untop the mountain of corpses.
his brass throne sits.
of victims and champions alike,
blood spilled in his name
any trace of alliance has none
always the same.
he breathes the violent
sees the irrational
hate fuels him
brutal killings his wine
pointless murders his bread
the mortal realm his feasting hall
he waits in his domain
the sea of fiery blood roars
he grants false illusions of courage
martial pride and vengeance drip
like corrosive poison to the spirit
honour can deceive the flesh
pride blossoms to conceit
conceit stagnates into tyranny
this paths leads to the blood god
be warned least you lose your way
and find yourself at his beckoning call

---------------------

The boy swallows hard as he presses on. He traces the ancient rune that forms the demons name. A mark. Turning the pages, past accounts of mad men burned at the steak, for heresies unspeakable, the reaches the next holy write describing a lesser name.

---------------------

Deus Putrificus

Death is mankind’s constant
decay closely follows, naturally
Disease and deterioation his method
his spirit stands in the way
of progress and evolution
guard the spirit against the desire
of the decadence of disease
of the certainty of decomposition
Those follow him desire only to see
all of any progress lay in scabrous ruin
Disease and contagion is his vessel
His body houses all forms of corruption
in his mouth is decay
in his flesh is rebirth
all in the forms repulsive to mortal minds
Speak his name with desire
and repulsive disease takes hold
hideous deformations your only companion
They will weep in denial
to be released of their accepted gifts
only to suffer to the death
and eventual rebirth
to be damned eternally

---------------------

The small mind reels with visual flashes of weeping sores and unheard pleas of the pestilence cultists.

Shivers run down his spine. Again, he flips past illustrations of the methods used to interrogate men and women long forgotten.

----------------------

Principus Excelsis

In the heart of the corrupt
the darkest of desires lay
and here he finds
his vehicle of expression
stretching the limit and law
those set to safeguard order and morality
to exceed them and to wallow
in the excess and violation of civility
hedonism and self-indulgence
is his favorite task whispered
finding the hearts of the willing
decadent desires draw his vices close
riots of colour, sound and sensation
overwhelms the cultist
driven to unimaginable lengths
to feel the slightest fulfillment

---------------------

Cold sweat drips from the side of his head as he gathers enough strength to read of the fourth unspoken name.

He quickly turns in his seat wanting to see the source of the motion he would swear on a thousand stars he was certain he saw.

Nothing.

---------------------

Deus Cambiaris Maneras

The weaver of all things interlocked
Actions, plots and subtle intrigue
know his name
his deceived puppet cultists
like marionettes believe
the pact a mutual one
all in the guise of the gods true lust
power at the altar of eternity
even if his name reigned supreme
change and turmoil would betray his reign
beware subtle manipulations
avoid devious ploys
safeguard the desire of forbidden knowledge
he is the lord of mutability and change
majicks and sorcery his clenched fist
in his dark womb births forth
change and evolution ever present
he promises eternal life
an escape from obvious oblivion
be warned....

---------------------

The candlelight flickers out, leaving the young man in absolute darkness.

He can feel his skin crawl and can feel the pounding of his small heart, yearning to run. He listens intently.

the raspy breathing is behind him now.

eagerly the child counts to three, preparing for his familiar dash to the outside world.

one...
two...
thre...

'....bahuas....'

"THREE!!!!"

S
[con't]

_________________
The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu


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