Post by Killian King on Aug 19, 2017 22:27:30 GMT -5
I'm in too deep
You're the fix I've come to need
Ooh no, look what you've done to me
You're the fix I've come to need
Ooh no, look what you've done to me
The rumbling sounds of thunder rumble in the distance bringing with it the promise of an approaching storm across the once emerald green highlands that were now stained crimson, shining with fresh coatings of blood and broken lineages. The sky hangs low, choked with clouds of black ash billowing from fires laced sporadically across the fields of the carnage. The sounds of metal dragged from leather as sword was pulled from scabbard and the points of weapons sang in chorus piercing the flesh of the fallen to ensure their ends. This was a blessing, an offering of mercy lest you lay wracked with your final horrifying breaths as wolves and carrion crows shared in the feasts of war. These were indeed troubled times, an era of decay, where people willfully put their faith in a Demon King.
You caught me off guard
Then tore my world apart
Ooh no, this thing has gone too far...
Then tore my world apart
Ooh no, this thing has gone too far...
Slaves to his spreading sickness of the mind slither across the lands like a new born religion. Somewhere in this decaying world, the destiny of the masses hangs in the fate of a whore, a savage, and a mad bard turned would-be hero... and one of them may just dethrone the serpent, if they don't kill themselves in getting to him first. But here in this wretched place, a different evil plagues these lands.
The scene of devastation is sculpted in the bodies of strange beasts twisted into machines of war, slain and left beside the countless bodies of men turned into mindless, inhuman brutes by the seductive whispers of a sorceress who was said to be the sister to the devil himself. How many souls had she lead to their bitter and cold demise? Did her words still sweetly echo in the corridors of their minds in their death throes? Was their last guttural growl a plea for her help, or surrender of this life knowing they had given it for her?
It's too late
I can't escape...
Men in black banners drag bodies across the sopping mud, piling them in countless mounds bound for funeral pyres. A sole priest mad enough to accompany this saddening band of knights stands reading last rites over the dead, some even before the men drag them off. Their armor had been cast from ebony metals, just as their shields and banners were. Their sigil was a serpent, but this serpent had existed long before the Demon who now held the throne. They were “The Black Adders”, a company of cutthroats and sellswords, labeled as witch hunters, when word of greed and bravery is confused as doing the Lord's work.
Only a devil like you
Could make me sin like I do
Could make me sin like I do
The priest stands over a body, offering his blessing.
“Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescant in pace... or some bullshit like that, I don't know,” the priest mumbles under his breath, unscrewing the cap of what appears to be holy water, taking a long swig of it before replacing the cap. He turns back to two large men behind. “Well what are you waiting for, get on it,” he says gesturing to the body.
“Yes, sir, Father, wonderful sermon,” one of them says as they put hands on the body.
“Piss off,” the priest mutters under his breath.
The sound of hooves clopping through the mud draw his attention, his eyes narrowing at the black warhorse that charges forward, its rider equally garbed all in black armor. A tall man, broad of shoulder, sits astride the horse, his helmet tucked under one arm, sweat pouring from his brow as he perceives all before him.
“Well, if it isn't our fearless leader,” the priest says while making the sign of the cross over another body before him.
“You reek of liquor, old man.”
“Must be the holy oils,” the priest says in an aside.
The knight holds a hand out, waggling his fingers in the direction of the priest who rolls his eyes and produces the bottle of “holy water”, passing it to him. The man raises the bottle to his nostrils and sniffs.
“Your holy water has indeed been blessed, priest. It's straight liquor,” he retorts, tossing the bottle back to the priest who stops what he's doing to snatch it, taking another sip before replacing it in his robes.
“It helps me find myself closer to God, lad.”
As he speaks, the body before them draws a gasping breath, decrepit and gnarled limbs grasping at air. The priest gives a shout and falls backward, the black knight's great horse rearing on its hind legs before bringing its strong hooves down to crush the skull of the unfortunate.
“The danger's away now, Priest.”
“Aye,” the priest agrees, checking a nearby body. The black knight waves a cadre of his men over, the men stabbing frantically at the dead that litter the field in their wake.
“How can you tell these ones from the others? All of their eyes are as black as pitch,” the Priest says, again pulling his holy water from his robes.
“It wasn't so long ago, mine were the same shade,” the black knight says, his jaw working at his words. “She gets into your head, creeps into the mind, until nothing else but her exists.”
I've got a weakness
I am a fool
For a devil like you
I am a fool
For a devil like you
“If you can come back from it, what's to say that they can't?” the Priest asks.
“The weak of mind can't be saved. What we do on this battlefield is a mercy and a kindness. It's better to be dead than in her thrall. I know that better than any.”
“So I've heard,” the Priest says, watching the black knight warily.
Feeling the scrutinizing gaze, the black knight rides away, leaving the Priest with the cadre of his men.
“What's crawled up his arse?” the Priest asks of no one in particular.
“The Captain? They say he killed his best friend. They were guild brothers, and he took him out, just like that. No one knows why....”
“I heard he was possessed by a pride demon,” another says.
“Aye, you could tell from the mirrored reflection in his eyes. Skin-crawling, it was,” another answers.
“I wouldn't want to cross the Captain. If he's capable of doing that to a man he called brother, what chance does the sorceress stand?”
“A damned good one, considering he's still in love with her,” the Priest mutters under his breath, his words unheard by the rest of the men.
You're guilty, as charged
My soul bares the marks
Ooh no, I'm just as bad as you are...
My soul bares the marks
Ooh no, I'm just as bad as you are...
It isn't long before the Priest catches up to the knight, the rain that had threatened earlier beginning to douse them.
“Add oils to the fires, we don't want them burning out,” the black knight shouts orders to his men, watching as they rush to obey him.
The Priest stands beside the knight, observing the progress.
“May I ask a question, Captain?”
“You just did. But go on, Priest.”
“How long did she have you under her spell?”
The black knight stiffens, his horse dancing to the side as it senses the tension from him.
“It seemed like forever. I wish someone would have done me the kindness these men received here today before I woke up,” he says bitterly.
“And in that, how long were you in love with her?”
The knight jolts in his saddle, turning his head slowly to pierce the Priest with his unflinching, hardened glare.
“I don't believe that is any of your business, Priest.”
“With all due respect, Captain, it is my business if I'm following you to my possible dismemberment, bewitchment, and/or death,” the Priest returns harshly.
The knight remains silent.
“I suppose there is a bright side to all of this. If I'm disemboweled, I won't have to pay taxes any longer,” the Priest cocks his head to the side. The knight fixes him with a strange look, moving his horse away, the Priest following behind.
You are my wicked thrill
I just can't get my fill
Ooh no, this kind of living could kill...
I just can't get my fill
Ooh no, this kind of living could kill...
“If it's to be revenge, I understand. I have a few ex-lovers myself I wouldn't mind running through with the pointy end of a sword,” the Priest says conversationally.
“Odd words for a Priest,” the black knight says, looking back over his shoulder.
The Priest grunts.
“I'm a man of God, I never said I was a good one. So while these other fools are chasing after the Demon King, you're chasing after her. Why? Why not just forget her? Move on?”
“I will see to the Demon King in my own time, but for now, I must see this through, I must see an end to this. To her,” the black knight says, looking off into the distance, eyes scanning the horizon.
“I assume you wish to stop her before she takes another such as yourself under her reign?”
“It's already too late for that,” the black knight says, shaking his head. “I thought I could save the Knight of Summers, I thought he was strong of mind like myself, but I was too late and too wrong. He's been twisted by her control longer than any other, since the beginning...”
He and the Priest both endure a moment of silence for the fallen knight.
“What is she like?” the Priest inquires curiously.
“To your face? There is no more of an enchanting woman. She is the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes upon. Enticing, sensual, her appearance matched by the most brilliant and entertaining of minds. It's a tantalizing package and bait for any many,” the black knight admits.
The Priest blows a raspberry.
“I would have known then and there it was a trap. No such creature exists.”
“Oh, but she does, Priest. She does. But underneath all of the splendor and beauty, she is rotten down to her black heart. She is evil in every vile way imaginable,” the black knight's hands twist at the reigns of the horse, the leather creaking.
“All women are inherently evil, lad. Yours just seems to specialize in it.”
It's too late
I can't escape...
I can't escape...
“This world is in the state it is because of her. She's made deals in the Underworld, she's stabbed countless numbers in the back and laughed as she ripped their hearts from their chest. The only reason the Demon King is on the rise is because he was somehow able to dethrone her. While she's in a weakened state, I must rid this world of her before I turn my gaze unto him.”
“What does it say about you, Captain, that you seek to destroy her when she's in a weakened state?” the Priest conjectures.
“It says I'm bloody smart. You don't want this bitch at her full force, Priest.”
“I simply ask because, rumors say that outside of this group of lads you have here, not many trust you,” the Priest offers.
The black knight looks around them.
“They don't trust me either, I just pay them well. And this world will always see what she wants it to see. She's very clever and has a way not only with seduction, but in garnering sympathies. She plays the victim and tugs on the heartstrings like no other. Let her in close and by the time they realize what she is, it's too late. Her venom runs through their veins,” he half-whispers, his pulse leaping at his words and at the memories of what it felt like... what she felt like...
The Priest watches him closely.
“Are you certain that you're up to the task of ending this creature?”
The black knight shakes himself.
“I was by her side on her rise to power. I know her better and far more intimately than anyone. If I'm being perfectly honest, she never needed to put me under her spell. I would have followed her to the ends of the earth without it.”
“Love is the most fucked hex of them all,” the Priest says emphatically, the black knight nodding in agreement. “How did you manage to break away from her?”
Only a devil like you
Could make me sin like I do
Could make me sin like I do
“In the midst of her great battle with the Demon King, she attempted to make a deal in the Underworld,” the black knight says evenly and then turns his gaze on the Priest. “I was the sacrifice.”
The Priest grunts sympathetically.
“Once I truly saw that I was merely coins to pay the ferryman, I was able to break free.”
“Reminds me of my third marriage. Well, except for the part about demons, the underworld, her being lovely, and sacrifices. But other than that,” the Priest shrugs.
The black knight fixes him with a perplexed stare.
“You're an odd man of the cloth.”
“Not the first time I've heard that,” the Priest says, reaching for his holy water again. He takes a drink and shakes the bottle in the knight's direction. “For the courage.”
“You're going to need a lot more of that, where we're going. And if you have any sway with the Lord above, it would be best if you bring that due soon,” the black knight says seriously. His heels dig into the flanks of his horse, spurring it forward as it climbs the hill before them, the Priest moving with him until they reach the top.
Just beyond lies a massive ebony castle with legions of slavering followers surrounding it. The Black Knight stares grimly, the Priest taking a longer drink from his bottle.
“That's where we're going?” he asks. “Well, fuck me.”
“This isn't about conquest. This is about ridding the world of that witch once and for all. We've choked on her lies and illusions long enough. All of the atrocities we've seen in this world have been birthed by her lies and deceit. These lands lay broken because of her, the people shattered, because of one woman who has twisted the roots of the very earth beneath us since she arrived on these shores. Everything we've done, every battle we've been in has led to this. So yes, that's where we're going, and that's where I will find the witch in her home and I will fling her from its highest peak!"
"That's all well and good, lad, but you're still in love with her. Do you truly believe you'll be able to finish the job when you get your hands on her?" the Priest inquires.
"What choice do I have?"
I've got a weakness
I am a fool
For a devil like you
I am a fool
For a devil like you