The Touch of Bane

[omniscientist]

He walked slowly along the barely maintained path towards the decayed edifice, paying no mind to the lumbering undead that nearly surrounded him. The aberrations of nature that called this place home were beings of hunger. It consumed them; it drove them to seek flesh. Indeed, the one who walked down the path would do well in satisfying this hunger; however, they also paid him no mind.

Like a black, slowly moving wind, he would reach the entrance of the Necropolis unhindered. Where many consider such a place to be the most hostile of locations, he considered it as a second home.

Omnigalas entered the Necropolis, sighing a breath of relief while doing so. It was here he could rest, knowing the ones who hunted him had no influence within its walls. This belief would not last the night, however, as it was to be this place where it would be required of him to face his seekers.

***

The sound of metal digging into decayed flesh is a peculiar one, and it was something that most people would be hard pressed to notice. This mattered not for Omnigalas, as he picked up on these sounds; faint at first, but slowly increasing in volume. He enjoyed hearing that was more capable than most humans; a byproduct of his attempts to tap into his draconic blood that coursed through his veins.

He knew immediately that others were here. Hissing noises resonated within the helm that covered his face; his peace was disturbed. Minutes passed, and finally Omnigalas saw four familiar figures. Like shining beacons visible from far away, he could plainly see that it was a pack of foul goodly beings that meant to disturb him.

Eventually they came within an arms length of the entrance to the Necropolis. Omnigalas, wrapped in shadow on the balcony that was two floors above the group, watched in silence for a time.

"We have gone far enough; only death is in that place", said one of them. "It would be a wise idea to leave this decrepit place behind us."

Being logical of mind, most of them seemed to agree. One, however, wore an expression of protest on his face. The paladin seemed eager to prove himself, and this did much to put a smile on Omnigalas' face.

"Your very lives hang in the balance at this place", remarked Omnigalas. His sudden words, dripping with malice and malevolence, shocked the group in its ferocity. "Leave. You are not wanted here."

The group at first attempted to discern the source of the voice. Eventually, one of them looked up and saw the menacing Blackguard gazing down upon them.

Omnigalas had previous dealings with the members of this group in the past. He knew them by name: they were Cirion, Maximilian, Varnz, and Jos'iah. It amused Omnigalas to see their efforts to hide their well earned fear from his penetrating stare. Despite this, they were resolute, and thusly exchanged words with him, some of which that had an equal amount of bite.

"Come down here!” yelled Cirion. "Then we can see whose life is in danger!"

To this, Omnigalas responded with harsh laughter. "Me? Come to you? Perhaps your ignorance of me was greater than I initially believed." Omnigalas' voice raised cruelly loud, hatred dripping off each word. "You are hardly worth my time, and barely deserving of my presence, for you stand beneath one who is greater than you by blood alone! Lesser beings you are!"

Omnigalas finished his tirade with eyes extremely wide open, the black orbs on his eyes almost completely covering the white. The response from the group was at first silence, until a few retorted with words dripping with sarcasm. They served to mock Omnigalas' belief in his own superiority.

This exchange continued for awhile until another came within view. Immediately upon seeing the new visitor, Omnigalas stopped his talking and looked up. The hate in him was rising to new heights, but with this increased rage was also a present sensation of exhilaration. The newcomer came to stand among the group, and then looked up at Omnigalas; a righteous anger swelling in his eyes.

"Omnigalas! Traitor of the Triumvirate! Your reign of terror shall continue no longer! Your time is nigh: for judgement, for justice!" The proclamation from the newcomer both angered and amused Omnigalas. The Blackguard cooly lowered himself to one knee, as if to lessen the gap between the two opposing forces of nature.

"Come to hold these pathetic creatures' hands, eh Hano?" retorted Omnigalas. The words left his mouth too late, as the Holy Knight of Torm already proceeded to enter the complex; the rest of the group soon followed after.

"Fools! If you enter this place, you will die!" shouted Omnigalas, loud enough for the group to hear. "That is a promise..."

Omnigalas turned around and disappeared into the darkness of the Necropolis, slowly forming a strategy to overcome the situation at hand..."

***

Standing in front of an altar on the second floor of the Necropolis, Omnigalas looked proudly at his work. Being allied with the Dark Advent, he made use of his ability to summon the creatures that called this place home to his side. Almost countless in number, they came not to merely protect their caller, but to devour the hope and lives of the unwanted visitors.

Pleased with himself, Omnigalas stood patiently in the darkness. Preparing for battle, he prayed to Bane for strength.

***

Hours passed, and the sounds of battle crept closer and closer to Omnigalas. The time was almost upon him to fight the ones he only had hate for.

It was at this pressing time, that his patience and prayers to his cruel god paid off. Omnigalas' eyes snapped open as he felt a presence envelope him. A dark, dark power surrounded him, something that gave him extreme pleasure.

No announcement was made; no indication as to the identity of the presence ever fell on Omnigalas' ears. It did not matter, for he knew that what he felt was the touch of Bane.

Power of the most extreme nature began flowing through Omnigalas. A deep and horrible laughter emerged from his lips as his very size grew. His sword became enveloped in fire and began pulsing a red light. He felt his own skin harden, making it almost impervious to blows. Even his raw vitality increased more than double fold.

As Hano and the others entered the room, looks of awe quickly displayed on their faces. Omnigalas, now teeming with supernatural power, bellowed at them, gazing upon them as one would upon lesser beings.

"He...seems to be a bit bigger than before", squeaked Cirion, clearly surprised by the recent developments.

Hano, although taken back by the horror in front of him, remained defiant. As he did outside, he informed Omnigalas of his crimes, and the consequences of committing them: justice.

Not swayed by the paladin's words, Omnigalas roared, "Foul Knight of Torm! I made a promise, remember?" He then motioned to himself, as if he meant to put weight behind that previously made promise. "I intend to keep it. You will die here. Your weakness will become only too apparent after you taste the power of the Black Lord."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Omnigalas charged into the group. Like the unavoidable grasp of death itself, he moved towards Hano. With a mighty stroke of his sword, Hano was horribly damaged and thrown back, landing on the floor. Dead. Omnigalas' almost infinite arrogance was well fed by witnessing the downfall of the one he hated the most. Sneering, he turned to face the others. "Fall!" he would shout, each time before striking. Like a machine of destruction, he dispensed equal doses of pain to all the participants involved in combat.

Eventually, several more of Omnigalas' combatants fell; one even joined Hano in death. Victory would soon be his through Bane's power.

But then, much to Omnigalas' dismay, Hano appeared in front of him, completely revitalized. The paladin opened his mouth as if to speak, but Omnigalas heard nothing due to the now growing rage that blinded him. Charging forward, he engaged in a long battle with Hano and the survivors.

***

Omnigalas collapsed on the ground. He was completely winded; the power that was once at his fingertips had now disappeared. A look of utter denial regarding the recent events could be seen in Omnigalas' eyes. He coughed, spitting up blood on the ground. Seeing the Blackguard fall, Maximilian, wincing from the wounds he recently received from the battle, reached towards Omnigalas and grabbed his sword, despite Omnigalas' protests.

Looking at those who had fallen, Hano soon entered a sort of righteous fury. Grabbing Omnigalas by the neck, he picked him up. He expressed his anger and disbelief concerning Omnigalas' actions, and how those actions caused the pain of others. Hano then motioned in the direction of the fallen.

"Your actions are foul and unspeakable. You killed him, what you have done to this one is not what ones like him deserve!"

To this protest, Omnigalas could not help but laugh, choking on his blood in the process.

"What ones like him deserve? My gift of death to that pathetic creature is exactly what ones like him deserve." Omnigalas' mocking words were gravely ill-received with Hano. Even the disciplined paladin could not contain himself any longer, and his hold on Omnigalas slightly loosened due to his anger.

Seeing his chance, Omnigalas broke free of the paladin's grasp and stumbled away from the group. Not hiding the pleasure he felt upon what had just befallen the ones before him, he faced them and boasted, "So much you have lost, and yet you have gained nothing."

With that, Omnigalas produced a Symbol of Bane that he kept in his cloak, raised it up high and then disappeared, leaving his sword behind with Maximilian. The survivors, still staring at the location where Omnigalas had just been standing, were now left to themselves and the death that surrounded them.

[me_less]

Groan... What hit me?

Jos'iah feels for his head and then his body. When he feels no wounds nor blood, he opens his eyes and to examine the rest of his body. The bright light shocks his eyes but he forces them open anyway. He notices his companions around him and the familiar Abbot.

What happened?

He felt no burns, no wounds, no nothing... Nothing that would cause him to fall during their battle with Omnigalas. It's as if his heart just stopped and the blackness consumed him.

I don't know what magic fell me, but I'm glad you guys were around.

Jos'iah shuddered to think that he could've become fodder for the next necromatic experiment.

Hano, I'm glad you came. We would never have gotten that close to Omnigalas without you.

A whole conversation then ensued. Pledges were made and relationships made stronger. Deep down however, Jos'iah was discouraged.

How will I ever be able to defend my home if I cannot defeat these undead champions? Will Haldamar fall when the undead hordes come because of my weakness? No! You are a Semper. You will overcome this. The hallway to victory is lined with the portraits of defeat. This is why you are here. To learn. To grow. To succeed.

With new resolve, Jos'iah hones his mind.

I must... will become better. Perhaps the gods have sent me Omnigalas to measure... to prove me worthy.

Without much more fanfare, Jos'iah takes leave of his brothers in arms. He heads to his study and opens up some neglected tomes. He finds the section he is looking for: Blackguards...

[omniscientist]

Inner heart; Dark heart.


The cool hum and crackle of the elegantly collected energy around the pyramidal column that was central to the atrium of the Citadel did well to mirror its only onlooker’s own internal rhythms. Dark servant of Bane, he sat in this malignant place that acted as an extension of the very Black Bastion of the Barrens of Doom and Despair itself. Fallen warriors of Tempus, long ago corrupted by the Black Lord, were scattered along the perimeter to provide an almost excessive amount of surveillance and potential resistance should any fool be consumed by enough folly to actually enter this place uninvited.


The fire was gone; the flame had died. The insane passion was replaced by the all controlling dominance of malice. The unrelenting red shell was now a temple of black and green. Sitting on the stairs, his black hand clenched and placed underneath his chin, Omnigalas would have appeared to all observers as the very embodiment of the always calculating and unfaltering Death. The black orbs on his eyes, the only feature not covered by his large and dark green helm, were the only windows to his soul, the only indicators of his thoughts. The unholy beacons darkened a tinge as he slowly rose to his feet and climbed the rest of the stairs.

Entering the next room, Omnigalas soon found himself looking at his own reflection given by the sheen emitted by the portal in front of him. For a matter of seconds he scanned the image with those black orbs of his before moving on, pleased yet again with his change and the new power that came with it. Stepping completely into the pulsing gateway, he let himself loose and thusly surrendered to the ebbing tide of the all connecting planar network.


***


Materializing out of thin air, his feet found new ground to rest on. Like a terrifying and unyieldingly tall obelisk of the darkest night, he stood on a trail that led from the town of Aquor to the bandit infested mountains located to the northwest of it. It was out in the world, in places like this, where he did Bane’s work as well as find solace from the internal politics of his new family by training his combat skills on the readily available population of bandits (or whatever unlucky soul happened to be by).


Peace was almost never there, however. Like a disease that needed to be suppressed, the weak that he culled and used for his own purposes would time and time again muster courage to stand in his dark presence and strike at him with strength derived in their numbers alone. Omnigalas, his time ever precious, took the lives of those who even dared to take a few moments of that. Because of acts such as this, the black knight soon found his presence unwelcome in any but the most remote areas of the valley. Fear was never the controller of his actions, but rather the painfully efficient logic that guided him through each day; logic that told him that placing himself in a position that required battling an entire settlement’s worth of guards was simply an exercise in futility and a killer of time.


Though Omnigalas was a being who had been directly touched by Bane himself, he still fostered the daily need for supplies and tools that would aid one in combat. Goods such as these were only to be found in places he could not venture, though this would not impede Omnigalas for long. Through his diligence in constructing a large network of agents and spies, he soon established various channels that allowed him to engage in trade of goods, albeit with a third party involved as the go-between. It was through entities like the ones that enabled his pack to stay full that he obtained sight beyond the walls that blocked his entry. Information was viewed as a required sustenance to Omnigalas, and the pleasure he derived from acquiring it did well to fuel his efforts in installing his agents in regions that he determined to contain it in abundance.


His ability at gathering information, despite his outcast status, did well to exemplify his use to the Black Hand. He would therefore find himself tasked by his superiors in gathering intelligence along with his daily acts of spreading the darkness via his unavoidable presence and hostility. It was his abhorrence of the shadow and insistence of self that allowed him to do his part in the closing of the suffocating grip of the Black Hand on the throats of the people that called this valley home.

With hot breath beating harshly against the inside of his helm, Omnigalas darted off like a black wind of force up the trail to engage in a macabre satisfying of his urge to bathe his sword in rightfully taken blood.


***


Sitting in front of an ornate table made of exquisite white marble and covered in insidious markings, Omnigalas was pleased with himself after receiving some rarely given praise from his Lady Mestra and Lord Ditus. Wallowing in his pride, he took little notice to a new presence that entered the room until its nearing proximity caused a sudden cold to befall upon Omnigalas. Slowly turning his head, the black knight’s eyes came upon a ghastly semblance of a man; a being that reeked of raw strength and utter terror. Blood dripped from his mouth, and a wild look of pleasure was in his eyes, as if he just experienced the forbidden taste of ambrosia a few moments ago.


And it was this night, that Omnigalas became introduced to the vampire lord, known by those who feared him as Syran. The Blackguard saw that great things could come by honoring this one’s given tasks, for Syran served a lord whose might and darkness were the stuff of legends, and it was the power only hinted at by legends that Omnigalas coveted. Omnigalas bound himself to this dark entity by agreeing to the task that was to be laid out before him; a mission that required Omnigalas to take back what was rightfully theirs, but that their enemies possessed.


This item was sought after by Omnigalas through the immediate dispersal of his agents to critical locations in order to obtain its whereabouts. It was during this trial that Omnigalas pleased Bane by learning the power and usefulness of patience, as much time and precision in action was required in order to handle this delicate matter without leaving too large of an impression too soon.


It was this job that was tasked to Omnigalas that caused him to stand at the crossroads outside of the filthy trade post that night, a night when a collision of two worlds of seemingly opposite spin was to occur.


***


The rustle of heavy boots accompanied by the pitter-patter of light feet invaded the ears of Omnigalas. Producing a low and guttural growl, he knew well that the time for utter annoyance was nigh, and his plans for that night would have to be put on hold. Like a vortex of deep black blinking in and out of existence in a time with greater brevity than a mortal’s life in the eyes of a god, Omnigalas turned fiercely to face a large group of weak cattle being led by their herders. Knights of Torm at the helm, he saw the recognizable woman’s sword leave her sheathe as quickly as the words left her mouth; words that were as meaningless as any drunk’s thoughts, as hollow as lover’s poem derived from a famous script.
Cursing them all, Omnigalas was forced to flee from that place, intense anger and hatred riding high on his mind. Despite being prevented from going forward with his original plans that night, he was pleased for the fact that he came by the knowledge of the presence of a large group of his enemies and the direction that they were heading. Willing himself to his Citadel, he soon gained an audience with his Lord Ditus and Lady Mestra Ill’Koresh, and reported this information to them. Because of the high number of their enemies in transit, the beings that Omnigalas gave servitude to decided their intents and destination must be discerned.

Trailing the large group at a distance that kept them out of sight, Omnigalas, along with the Lord, Lady, and Coterie of the Black Advance, eventually came upon the border to Mossdale. The distance between the two groups began to close, and Omnigalas soon began to fill with anticipation of the pleasure he hoped to feel upon the butchering of those that he hated.

As the fearsome host of the Black Hand neared the group of adventurers, however, Omnigalas soon felt the joy that was so close at hand slip out of reach. Standing at a greater distance from the Black Hand than the adventurers were individuals Omnigalas recognized as beings that were part of the Renitence, specifically ones whose currently appointed task was that of grave importance to the Black Hand. It was because of this that his Lord Ditus harshly reminded them of the severe consequences that would result from the improper use of that which they held. Omnigalas shared in his Lord’s rage and also imparted a similar message to them.


His Lord, Lady, and Coterie slowly began to then leave. Although Omnigalas still painfully desired the stabbing out of his enemies’ eyes with his own blade, he suddenly found amusement in that the loathsome group could receive their deserved pain at the hands of this other, unexpected presence. Bidding them farewell, Omnigalas clutched his holy symbol and willed himself elsewhere. Energy soon built up around him and then condensed into a swirling vortex, consuming itself and the black knight within it.

[omniscientist]

Quixotic Advance; Black Advance

The man in black walked through the empty field with a smoothness and unyielding pace like that of a celestial body's course across the heavens. With a lack of luminosity akin to the current night's sky, the dark presence which was the Blackguard of Bane would have given one cause to think him part of the ether itself. Trailing a few feet behind him, however, was two bright red dots, sharply contrasting the seemingly hopeless surroundings with bright and furious malice.

Omnigalas found it pleasing to take his new gift from Bane, a fiendish servant from an equally fiendish plane, through the areas the dark knight had grown to become familiar with. Although the bond between the two was such that the Blackguard was not yet able to exchange meaningful words with it, he never the less felt an empathetic link with the creature that allowed him to depart some general feeling to be received by the fiend. The area he was currently traveling at with his new companion was near the farm by the crossroads that connected to the trade post.

Entering another section of the field, full of corn stalks, he broke one off and offered it to his servant, knowing full well such things would not appease the fiend. "Does this satiate your hunger, my little pet?" asked Omnigalas, somewhat mockingly, to the devilish rat. In response to this the rat did little more than make various infernal squeaking noises. These sounds caused Omnigalas to cackle in delight, although most would find them displeasing to the ears, to say the least.

"Perhaps you shall taste fresh meat tonight", teased Omnigalas. "But don't expect me to fetch it for you." Following the words a long but soft hiss could be heard from within the helm. Enjoying the thought of seeing his new pet gnaw slowly through the hide of a still living holy knight, Omnigalas became quite irritated when he heard the snap of a corn stalk in the distance.

Looking through the left corners of his eyes, he saw an annoyingly large, and familiar, group of beings that did well to occupy much of Omnigalas' dreams; dreams that always seemed to be full of torture and even more unspeakable activities. The most recognizable to him was the infernal knight of Torm, Hano, with his sword that served to only disgust the dark knight already high up in the air. Some others were there, though Omnigalas paid them little heed as he continued conversing with his pet.

"Dinner appears to have arrived on its own", said Omnigalas to his fiendish servant. Pointing to some members of the crowd, Omnigalas added, "Regardless, I should have you remember these faces."

Turning to face the now close gathering of people, Omnigalas let forth a cold and foul sound. "Oh...such a surprise...", boomed the voice within the dark green helm. "I wonder...should I feel threatened..."

An explosion of discussion among the members of the group before him then happened after the utterance of those words. It wasn't until Omnigalas heard the paladin express his wishes to bring in the Blackguard for questioning that the black knight made his next move.

He swiftly reached into his cloak and pulled out a symbol that boasted the unmistakable markings of Bane. Holding it high in the air, Omnigalas yelled out to the sky (much to confusion of the onlookers):

"Brothers and sisters of the Black Hand, a fellow knight of Bane stands to be attacked by our enemies!"

After a few moments of silence, the group in front of Omnigalas seemed to relax a bit and a few even started laughing at the silly looking man in front of them. All of this changed, however, as the Coterie of the Black Advance surrounded the now shocked group and dove into them like a starved pack of wolves on their own young.

With the group now distracted and in very real danger from the new presence, Omnigalas decided to repay the quick response to his call by allowing the Coterie to have all the blood for themselves. Producing the symbol once again, Omnigalas willed himself elsewhere and soon disappeared from sight.

[sharringtonm]

Hot on the heels of the man in black armor, Snow Hawk and Osclow ran side by side, sweat pouring from the side of their faces. The man was inhumanly fast, outpacing them, but as he ran, he turned back to gloat at his would be captors and thats when it happened. The edge of the man's armor caught on the edge of the open gate he was passing thru and pulled him up short. Snow Hawk surged ahead of Osclow, throwing a wide feint at the knight's head raising the man's guard and with a quick move swept his feet out from under him knocking him to his back. Rolling away from the thrashing figure in the dirt, he rose just in time to see Osclow plant his giant sword firmly thru the heart of the evil warrior. And then they were upon them, shadows black as night immune to mortal blades and lightning fast, scratched, bit, and chewed at the pair, while another gathered up the dead man's body and vanished into the night. Finally the other shadows retreated, leaving the pair to look back and see a near dead Hano dragging the corpses of all the other companions out of the field.

"He's dead, but they made off with his corpse"

[omniscientist]

Dark heart; Loyal heart.

It was his fervent faith and unwavering trust in his own abilities that caused the dark one to keep steady in his course through the place that had sought his very life those few nights ago. Malevolent eyes scanned the area as the black knight of Bane walked past the fence and into the farmer's field; eyes acting, not for reasons of safety, but as if to satisfy some curious desire to see the place where his enemies failed in their desperate ploy for the ending of Omnigalas' own existence.

Corn, grass, mud; things of mundane nature sought to dull the significance of this place to him, and soon gave way to his boredom. As he turned to leave, he found himself quite amused and surprised to see a note, firmly held down by a rock, on the ground. Thoughts began pounding inside the head that lay beneath the always noticeable black and green helm.

Strange, I did not see this curious piece of parchment upon my entry.

A most horrible sound was made as Omnigalas whipped his sword out of its sheath. The letter was then punctured by the bloodstained blade and then raised upwards until it was within arms reach of the being that radiated evil. Snatching the letter from the blade, Omnigalas let out a long sound while reading it that perhaps was intended to inform the piece of paper it had received the honor of the dark one's own gaze.

Much to the benefit of Omnigalas' own amusement, it turned out indeed that the letter was for him. It was penned by the hand of one Omnigalas sought to squeeze the life out of, one who was one of the many who attempted to direct Omnigalas' own story in this very field, using sword in place of pen. The contents of the message described the writer's acquisition of a greater understanding of the dark servant of Bane since that one night, and that a meeting between the two was desired for discussions concerning mutual benefit.

A snort sounded from within the dark helm. A slightly more immature Omnigalas would have laughed at such things, agreed to meet the interested party, and then slay them; however, Omnigalas had come to appreciate the power and benefit that could be produced from diplomatic relations, and tossed such thoughts aside. Safe harbor was promised to him at the proposed meeting site. Only if that turned out to be a falsehood, he decided, that such deadly thoughts could be entertained within his mind.

Taking a most frightening stance, by will alone he made his presence known to the Black Lord and gave unto him a prayer for the power to respond to this possibly lucrative proposal. Satisfaction swelling in feeling the response of his god, he willed words to leave his mind and enter the author of the letter's, in the effort to confirm his arrival at the proposed meeting.

And so the dark figure departed, and entered a place that did well to cause unease on Omnigalas.

***

Omnigalas stood slightly off the road at a place somewhere between the city of Sundren and the Necropolis. Thoughts revolved in his head in a manner that mirrored how the celestial bodies in the sky circled that great source of power that their own existence owed much thanks to.

One of my own moves against me, perhaps even unknowingly.

Steps were being taken in a direction that conflicted with Omnigalas' own course. Power that he was entitled to was being threatened to be taken from him by another; the favor of a dark force of immeasurable power was in the position to be snatched away from Omnigalas.

But the meeting with the individual that had already occurred some hours ago provided Omnigalas with information and a method for the very thing that Omnigalas sought to be had.

Dire power reared its head on one side of the possible outcomes of such dealings; utter damnation and death showed its maw on the other. Consumed by thought, Omnigalas grasped his holy symbol and willed himself to a place where his thoughts could go on without interruption.