The Invasion of Death
there were only a few present at the church when it started… the attack… “the invasion of death”, as it was known throughout the land.
the ice deamons, binded to their northern territory, had grown hostile over the years. life times of opression… slavery… isolation…
it was only a matter of time before the caged animal would seek its freedom.
and freedom it sought, in the form of blood lust.
the church, the writings, the blessings on the land…they considered that only an added bonus.
they wanted more… they wanted blood…. what they wanted, was the messenger.
Slythe Split Tooth, the leader of the ice deamons, sat at his thrown contemplating the impending attack months prior.
plotting… planning… devising a way to get in.
they would burrow in from underneart, he fatefully decided… and the mission was put in play.
the night of, there was an electricity in the air. it was thick… growing… like an energy feeding off the rage brewing inside of each and every deamon.
“MEN!!!!!” slythe snarlled while addressing his troops, “WE WILL WALK ON ALL OF THOSE WHO STAND IN OUR WAY. THIS LAND IS OUR LAND. OUUURRRRSSS” he screamed.
the troops went crazy, bashing their shields against each other, punching each other in the face, literally going bat shit with excitement for the bloodshed to follow.
“YOU WILL HAVE YOUR REVENGE. YOU WILL HAVE WHATEVER YOU DESIRE, AS IT IS YOURS TO TAKE. I WANT BLOOD… I WANT DEATH… BUT THE MESSENGER… HE’S MINE. HE CAN NOT SUCCEED IN HIS LIFE MISSION. HE HAS LEARNED TOO MUCH. WE END HIM NOOOOOWWWWW!!!!!”
they charged towards the underground tunnels that they had forged… trenched with their own hands, they knew the paths of the caverns. even in the pitch black darkness of the underworld, they charged like a wasps nest that had just been kicked.
the entrance was under Bilbo Schmiggigys house, a local townsman who had been bought off by the deamons. what a fool… he was the first to lose his life.
one by one the ice deamons flowed from the caverns, literally trampeling one another in hopes to have death spill on their swords.
one by one they charged. their daggers, shields, spears…. one by one they expelled in to the holy land.
one by one, the clerics fell.
the pastor of the church, Com Sansic knew it was too late… he knew the time had come… he only had moments before their own personal mission would be lost… and majeria would be impacted forever.
the messenger needed to dissapear, and there were only minutes to get him out.
one by one, Com evaded and escaped the clutch of death as he pushed forward to the church footseps.
one by one, the death would continue.
after what seemed like 30 minutes of snaking through death and despair, Com made it to the footsteps… he was close to his goal.. the messenger was upstairs in his personal room… Com knew he had moments to act.
“WHERE IS HEEEEEEE…. WHERE ARE THEY KEEPING HIM… FIND THE MESSENGER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
slythe had made it out of the cavern. this was it… the begining of the end… this, was war.
slythe made a visual on Com and charged, knowing that if you take down the head the body would fall shortly after.
literally jumping over corpses and deamon warriors, he charged towards Com with rage in his eyes and hate in his heart.
Com turned to run. he needed to warn the messenger… he needed to get him out.
“YOU DIE NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” slythe cried as he threw his ice dagger of destruction at Com, back turned, attempting to alert the messenger in his last moments of existence.
3 of the holy warriors, a group established to protect the cleric church, heard the cry and changed their focus from whatever they were fighting at the moment, and rushed towards Slythe… they knew their mission… and they knew his as well.
the dagger pierced deeply in to the back of Com, seconds before he made it inside.
he dropped… instantly… like a sack of mortar, he dropped..
he let out a horrific scream…blood curdeling… overwhelming to the point of muting the battle behind him. he cried out.. dying…
he pulled himself towards the stair case. he was so close… yet so far.
one by one the clerics outside died.
one by one, their blood spilled in to the streets.
one by one Com climbed the stairs, pulling himself upwards by the nails of his fingers.
he made it to the top of the stairs, seconds left to live… he felt his life escaping..
he pushed open the door.
the messenger stood alerted… confused… scared.
he had never seen anything like this before…
this was only in his readings, and now… a reality.
Com instructed the messenger one last time, and with a sigh, he let out his last breath..
the messenger fled.. scared… confused… he never looked back.
Slythe returned to his throne furious when he was informed that the messenger had escaped.
he would have his revenge… this story, would have an ending… he swore his life to that.
one by one, more and more clerics would come home from their adventures of the day….
one by one, the town was over thrown.
one by one, they were erased… forgotten…
one by one….