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Snippet #2474769

located in Phyrexian Grassland, a part of The Garden: An Arcadian Boneyard, one of the many universes on RPG.

Phyrexian Grassland

Vast plains of grass and large fields were the norm at one point here near Kerris, but after a game with a Demon Lord the Phyrexian Grasslands are withered and barren waste-lands devoid of all but a tiny almost village area home to The Nameless.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane
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The man spoke as he stood up and walked towards Ivan and the demon to his side, walking through the table as if it never had existed in the first place. "The darkness will claim this place, and the rest of the Garden. We barely make it by as it is and soon the demon lords will stop bickering and mass together. It's a matter of time before the Garden is overwhelmed and used as stepping stone for the rest of existence...what we need are capable fighters, those strong of mind and body, those with good morals. We need to be able to rise from the bottom, gain allies and defeat corrupted guilds until the Garden can stand on her own two feet and push back the demon lords." "It would seem that whatever I have found myself to fall into might have consequences for Ancaria if they fail to push back these demon lords. While there are great powers within the realm if at all possible I would rather not have them measure their power on one another. In the end, if this all is true, it would seem that I have to pass these tests. If not to help protect Anracia, then to help these people." Ivan followed up in his thoughts. Then as the man stepped back and seated himself once more he spoke words of advice. "I know all about you, everything you know, I know. Keep this in mind for the rest of the interview and pay attention....this is the only advice I will give you aside from to remember, this is not a fight, you are not simply weapons."

"Live." The man said as the room turned into an abyss, a pure void with Ivan and the demon on a stone platform and far in the distance the man. They however were not alone on the platform, Ivan realised as he spied out a human figure in the corner of his eye. "Ivan." The figure said with a sharp and bonechilling voice. He had only heard this voice call out his name like this once before, but he recognised the voice immediately. He turned to see the figure who had called his name. Before him stood a man who was nothing more than dried and rotten skin stretched over dry bones, it's empty eyesockets gazed back at Ivan. Rotten cloth robes covered the undead miscreation as it stood with long cresent bladed daggers in his hands. "Well, I suppose I should thank the gods for the chance to kill you, personally. Finally I can vent all this resentment I felt towards you all those years. I bet you never even realised how I dispised you in all those years that you called me your friend." The miscreation said with it's jaw hanging motionless, with only the direction of the sound indicating it was indeed him who spoke. "To be honest, I always knew. It's one of the few reasons I could call you my friend, you never hid anything for me. You were always like an open book to me, and you didn't even try to hide anything. Even now I think of you as my old friend." Ivan replied to the undead before him who trew out a disturbing laughter almost emmidiatly thereafter as he spoke. "Yes, that is the kind of foolishness I remember of my mortal existance. But that friend you remember is long gone. His memories may still remain within this vessel, but his mind has been corrupted to form me. The foolishness of the living, to believe in friendship and trust... Especially when minnions under your full controll are so much better at following your demands."

The undead lunged forwards as best it could, however it didn't even reach Ivan. "Are you willing to forsake what you care about, for the life of another?" It was a cryptic thing to say, especially to Ivan. For him the case was very much black and white, or at least it should have been. It was obvious that the undead before him wasn't the friend he remembered, what was before him was merely a lich who's formed from the corruption of a mages mind. However even as the creature lay on the platform in front of his feet, Ivan couldn't bring himself to give a killing blow. It had been so many years since they had last seen eachother, and back he had killed his friend turned lich to protect the lives of those around him. He had been a powerfull mage, and thus a prime target for the liches, however when he turned into a lich to his surprise he couldn't use his magic anymore. His magic relied on muscle memory to cast his magic in melee combat, however the form before Ivan didn't carry a single ounce of muscle, making him like a fish on land, unable to cast magic or even just to move his body properly. At this point he was as dangerous as a toddler with a fork, making it even more tempting to just talk to him and let the melancholy take him back to the good old days. Before all of this, before he was forced to kill his friend and before the slaughter at Thylysium.

"Are you crying? You are weak, like all the living! You have me unable to even get this trashpile of a body of the ground, and yet instead to killing me here and now, you cry? You are even weaker than the last time, you weren't even affected when you killed me." The undead spoke as he noted a drop fall to the ground. "Back then the full weight hadn't settled in yet. Even if it wasn't your intention I thank you for pulling me back to the present, now to return the favor to my old friend." Ivan said as he took one of the blades out of the loose grip of the hand. He raised the blade aiming for the undeads neck and as he swung down for the decappitation he whispered. "Farewell my friend, we will never meet again." The decappitation wasn't clean, and the head was still attached by a layer of skin, but it was clear that the lich was dead as the body stopped squirming.

Ivan trew the dagger as hard as he could over the edge of the platform before turning towards the man in the distance. He knew that he hadn't really killed his friend, afterall he was dead already, but it didn't make him less angry. "Now, will you explain why this was necessary? Afterall you knew all about me, and thus knew how this would end. I took an oath swearing to protect others, he became a lich who'd murder a city to gain power, there is no chance of that ending without one of both dead. So why? What knowledge did you gain? Does this make you feel like you know better whether I am trustworthy better than before?" His normal calm voice was now somewhat disturbed as a mixture of anger and grief stirred his heart and tears flowed over his cheeks.