Snippet #1416345

A slight grin appeared upon his face, as Allister watched the prince's show of force. The hand that he had held out to the prince was retracted to himself, and was now holding a jet black dagger. "Fel Prince, I have not offered to make you apart of my vastly growing army. No," he sighed heavily, "I have offered to keep Death from your home, but it seems that you will not listen to what I have offered." Shaking his head slowly, he looked straight into his eyes, and beamed a smile. A haunted smile that had the look of knowing something wonderful, but was never going to share it. The smile soon vanished, however, and in it's place, was an enormous intensity, but had the look of boredom etched into it.

"I have given you something that would protect you indefinitely, little princeling," he said in a cool tone, "And you have thrown it back into my face? A grave mistake you have made, one that you would soon forget." Taking the jet black dagger in hand, he sliced his right palm, watching as black ichor oozed from the wound. It pooled slowly into his palm, threatening to overflow, but before it did, he poured it onto the ground near his feet. Chanting could soon be heard over the commotion, but Allister's lips were unmoving. The voice of the chant sounded haunted, as though it was a whisper of the past, and nothing more. The dagger that he held onto broke, and fell from his grasp, turning into dust, then nothing at all.

Black flames erupted around Allister, which slowly engulfed him. When it did, he spread his arms to his side, wide, then slammed his palms together. When he opened them, tiny motes of black flame shot out, streaking through the night, leaving behind a trail of essence that vanished after a few heart beats. Over one hundred motes flew from his hands, each landing on a necromancer, their undead servants, and the buildings that had erected themselves from their words. "I will go now," his whisper was barely audible among the roaring of the flames, "to a place where your crown will give you nothing. Where your life will end when you set foot upon my kingdom. A kingdom of the Dead." Darkness erupted around them, and the fire's roar was deafening, but when he spoke, his voice could be heard over the mighty roar, "But I shall be taking Mouse with me." The black fires flared greatly, then vanished, as did everyone and everything around the prince.

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"Itzearlactil," came a familiar voice to the dragon's ears. It flew lazily around the campsite, watching as black flames erupted around it's new master. When the fires had settled after their brief flare, nothing could be seen on the grounds, save for it's new master, several guards, and a multitude of scorch marks upon the ground. Scorch marks, it noted, where the huts, furnace, and dead creatures once stood. "Itzearlactil," came that familiar voice again, but it could not quite place where it had heard it, "Obey me once more, and you shall have your eternal rest." This had gotten the bone dragon's attention immediately, as it wanted nothing more than to sleep forevermore. "Your new 'master' is your target. Attack him, slay him, and peace will be yours forevermore." Something within the dragon snapped, and it could feel it's body weakening from the holds the magic was spun on it. A great roar escaped it's jaws, and it began to plummet towards the hapless prince. Crimson flames erupted from it's great jaws, aiming itself at him, willing the flames to devour the prince's soft flesh. Not caring what happened to it, the dragon fell faster than ever, as the spell that held it together began to fall apart.

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"Raja," Allister whispered, "How is Mouse doing?" Raja appeared reluctant to speak, but at his insistent glare, she said, "She wants the prince, demands to be released so that she may go to him." Staring out at the forest below the minor lords' manor, Allister heaved a great sigh, one that stood as a testimony to his annoyance. "She must relearn everything that we have taught her, it seems," he did not see her slow nod as he continued, "I must prepare for a war, it seems." Far below them, upon the grassland between the manor and the forest line, a massive army of the undead was being prepared. His acolytes had begun to work tirelessly, aiming for a single goal. To reanimate as many corpses as possible.

"Raja," he said slowly, "Keep an eye on Mouse, and prepare her for the ritual that is to come. We shall need her to remember me, and to sever all ties to the prince." He then turned to glare at her, his eyes were crimson once more, "Torture is the final option, understand? You do not harm her unless I am there to watch." He watched as she shivered with fear, "Bring her to my chambers within an hour, I will need to speak with her soonest." Turning back towards the undead army that grew slowly with each passing heart beat, he did not notice Raja exiting the room. "Leejol," he said aloud. A robed figure appeared next to him, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Yes, my master," Leejol hissed, "Find the other bounty hunters, and bring them here. The ones who wish for the crown for whatever reason. tell them that I know of a way for them to obtain the crown." The robed figure bowed low, then vanished completely. "And now we wait," he said aloud, turning his attention towards the heavens, "There is a war coming, one that will decide the fate of the world, it seems." Insane laughter erupted from his throat, which, combined with the dark wings' voice, sounded much more devilish than it was before.