February 8th, OE 102
12:11 SDT
Forbidden City
Seal of the Yellow Emperor, "The Unrepeatable Verses"
6:18PM
"L-Lady Oleander!"
"Please reconsider!"
"Archbishop Lao gave explicit instructions not to-"
Protests echoed throughout the dark, ancient cavern beneath the Forbidden City. Esmee Oleander's pale features were lit by the pale flames burning in her palms, one hand turning in harmony with the stone lock on the door before her. The great, shuddering groan that filled the air as it began to open, disgorging a thousand years of dust and decay, was in her mind only accentuated by the gasps of shock and horror from the gathered priests, some of whom were already backing away.
Of course Lao had kept this all to himself, she thought. That man didn't have what it took to control one of the ancient Calamities. He didn't even bother to step into the cockpit of that feline he had cowed into obedience, making it skulk about the fringes while occasionally throwing it a morsel or two - how shameful!
But she was different.
She knew the old ways that he had sought to hide from her, studied laboriously and carefully. No, Lao would never return to their fold - the age of Necromancy, of the cult of death, had begun-
And on this, the eve of her triumph, she would be denied no prize.
Within the darkness, there was movement. The grinding of chains, and the snapping of metal as something massive took a shambling, experimental step forward towards the light. The cries behind her were quickly turning to screams, as a pair of eyes, little lights like hellish pinpricks of crimson, focused on their retreating backs.
Her face burst into a wide, mad grin.
"Hear me, ancient one! Serve me, and you shall feast like never before!" She yelled to it, spreading her arms wide.
The lights flicked down, as if noticing her for the first time. A moment of studious silence followed, as though it were... cogitating, thinking, as it surveyed the Necromancer below, her chest rising and falling with excitement.
A large, shackled hand began to reach from the shadows-
Central Beijing
The Forbidden Palace
A sharp whistle punctured the air as the artillery round, bright as a miniature sun, spiraled over its intended target and blasted apart an office building.
With a grinding of metal, the Randgrith's cannon was altered - just a little too late, as a vibrant, purple-hued claw tore through its front armor as easily as tissue paper, piercing its back. The half-egg shaped form of a cult Jiwen flexed its fingers before tearing them loose, letting the artillery weapon crumble to the earth below as it sparked. Things, the pilot thought, were now just starting to settle down.
Flanking it, and each of its fellows were a pair of familiars, their beady red eyes staring wetly into the gloom as their boulder-encrusted bodies swung blindly into whatever crossed their path. Flames had spread all across the city now, illuminating their unfeeling features in ways that sent shadows dancing across the disciples of Volkruss bodies, as they were invigorated with the dark power of their God, now resurrected in the stars above.
Reinforcements, they knew, would come soon. The thought made the Jiwen's hands twitch irritably, eager to spill even more blood in service to its vile savior.
More.
More blood.
Volkruss Cult Forces:
9x Jiwen
18x Demon Golem
12:11 SDT
Forbidden City
Seal of the Yellow Emperor, "The Unrepeatable Verses"
6:18PM
"L-Lady Oleander!"
"Please reconsider!"
"Archbishop Lao gave explicit instructions not to-"
Protests echoed throughout the dark, ancient cavern beneath the Forbidden City. Esmee Oleander's pale features were lit by the pale flames burning in her palms, one hand turning in harmony with the stone lock on the door before her. The great, shuddering groan that filled the air as it began to open, disgorging a thousand years of dust and decay, was in her mind only accentuated by the gasps of shock and horror from the gathered priests, some of whom were already backing away.
Of course Lao had kept this all to himself, she thought. That man didn't have what it took to control one of the ancient Calamities. He didn't even bother to step into the cockpit of that feline he had cowed into obedience, making it skulk about the fringes while occasionally throwing it a morsel or two - how shameful!
But she was different.
She knew the old ways that he had sought to hide from her, studied laboriously and carefully. No, Lao would never return to their fold - the age of Necromancy, of the cult of death, had begun-
And on this, the eve of her triumph, she would be denied no prize.
Within the darkness, there was movement. The grinding of chains, and the snapping of metal as something massive took a shambling, experimental step forward towards the light. The cries behind her were quickly turning to screams, as a pair of eyes, little lights like hellish pinpricks of crimson, focused on their retreating backs.
Her face burst into a wide, mad grin.
"Hear me, ancient one! Serve me, and you shall feast like never before!" She yelled to it, spreading her arms wide.
The lights flicked down, as if noticing her for the first time. A moment of studious silence followed, as though it were... cogitating, thinking, as it surveyed the Necromancer below, her chest rising and falling with excitement.
A large, shackled hand began to reach from the shadows-
Central Beijing
The Forbidden Palace
A sharp whistle punctured the air as the artillery round, bright as a miniature sun, spiraled over its intended target and blasted apart an office building.
With a grinding of metal, the Randgrith's cannon was altered - just a little too late, as a vibrant, purple-hued claw tore through its front armor as easily as tissue paper, piercing its back. The half-egg shaped form of a cult Jiwen flexed its fingers before tearing them loose, letting the artillery weapon crumble to the earth below as it sparked. Things, the pilot thought, were now just starting to settle down.
Flanking it, and each of its fellows were a pair of familiars, their beady red eyes staring wetly into the gloom as their boulder-encrusted bodies swung blindly into whatever crossed their path. Flames had spread all across the city now, illuminating their unfeeling features in ways that sent shadows dancing across the disciples of Volkruss bodies, as they were invigorated with the dark power of their God, now resurrected in the stars above.
Reinforcements, they knew, would come soon. The thought made the Jiwen's hands twitch irritably, eager to spill even more blood in service to its vile savior.
More.
More blood.
Volkruss Cult Forces:
9x Jiwen
18x Demon Golem