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"Willing Whip."
The Mage outranked her.
"Willing Whip."
The Mage outranked her.
"Willing Whip."
The Mage outranked HER.
Nekros’ voice echoed the words in her head. She had been on the verge of promotion, she was but a single display of fear and strength from being Willing Whip. The Mage had not been, not before. Now he was on the verge of being a Hooded Menace.
He didn’t just get promoted above her, he was a full rank her superior.
At dawn she stalked from the living quarters, fully armored, as befit a cleric of Bane. She moved with purpose through the cloister, then the Great Hall, and finally to the Nexus. She stood tall and seething before the Alter of Hate. The cleric of Myrkul leered at her, as he always did, and she ignored him as she always did. She looked squarely at the priest of Bane stationed at the Alter. “Bring me a sacrifice. I’d prefer a traitor if we have one.”
The woman was drugged as she was placed out on the Alter for Bryna. She didn’t ask if the woman was, in fact, a traitor; the woman was expendable, otherwise she wouldn’t be strapped to the Alter now. Bryna placed a hand on the woman, restoring her senses with Bane’s blessing. The woman needed to be fully aware for this, not just for the ritual, but for Bryna’s satisfaction in it.
Bryna worked on the woman at the Alter for hours, using the blessings of Bane to keep her awake and aware. The screaming would quiet for a time when she would go hoarse from it, until water and healing was forced on her so she could scream again.
Shortly after midnight, Bryna emerged from the alcove, slick with blood. Behind her followed a zombie and a spirit. The flesh of the woman had been weak, the body was merely a Banedead. Her spirit only grew stronger throughout the hours, however, fear and hate infusing her, and the wraith was a powerful Banshee Knight.
She was resolved. This would not be the end of it. She would surpass the Mage again.
The Mage outranked her.
"Willing Whip."
The Mage outranked her.
"Willing Whip."
The Mage outranked HER.
Nekros’ voice echoed the words in her head. She had been on the verge of promotion, she was but a single display of fear and strength from being Willing Whip. The Mage had not been, not before. Now he was on the verge of being a Hooded Menace.
He didn’t just get promoted above her, he was a full rank her superior.
At dawn she stalked from the living quarters, fully armored, as befit a cleric of Bane. She moved with purpose through the cloister, then the Great Hall, and finally to the Nexus. She stood tall and seething before the Alter of Hate. The cleric of Myrkul leered at her, as he always did, and she ignored him as she always did. She looked squarely at the priest of Bane stationed at the Alter. “Bring me a sacrifice. I’d prefer a traitor if we have one.”
The woman was drugged as she was placed out on the Alter for Bryna. She didn’t ask if the woman was, in fact, a traitor; the woman was expendable, otherwise she wouldn’t be strapped to the Alter now. Bryna placed a hand on the woman, restoring her senses with Bane’s blessing. The woman needed to be fully aware for this, not just for the ritual, but for Bryna’s satisfaction in it.
Bryna worked on the woman at the Alter for hours, using the blessings of Bane to keep her awake and aware. The screaming would quiet for a time when she would go hoarse from it, until water and healing was forced on her so she could scream again.
Shortly after midnight, Bryna emerged from the alcove, slick with blood. Behind her followed a zombie and a spirit. The flesh of the woman had been weak, the body was merely a Banedead. Her spirit only grew stronger throughout the hours, however, fear and hate infusing her, and the wraith was a powerful Banshee Knight.
She was resolved. This would not be the end of it. She would surpass the Mage again.