RP:Two Necros in Cenril
Part of the Paladins Rising Arc
The Remains of a Castle
The shattered remains of what once might have been a hulking castle cling to the jagged rocks overlooking the wild, foam-filled waters of the straits of Rynvale. A pair of heavily-weathered grey stone walls are the only structure remaining. Around their bases lie a great number of equally damaged stone bricks, mostly obscured by grass and moss. The occasional brick appears to show black burn marks which suggest this old castle was once torched to the ground, perhaps during a siege. There are now no signs of the former inhabitants.
Redovian is upon the location given to him by the archbishop within minutes of entering the area. His long coat trailing behind him, the symbol of his order etched into the back for all to see. The look upon his face is unreadable, yet serious in manner. He has no love for taking lives, but in a situation such as this, there may be no choice. The threat of a necromanctic cult creating a small army is a serious one indeed, and one the paladin would ensure is taken care of.
Ellamin trailed behind Redovian, right hand gripping the newly acquired mace by its handle. Lights Wrath as the mace was titled, was in a glowing fit as best described. It was flashing, which was its built in mechanism for detecting evil being 'close', close being a relative term here. Watching the mace concernedly, the paladin of Arkhen wasn't exactly what was going on here. The mace was new, and didn't exactly come with a instructional manual towards its various abilities and the like, so this was a field learning experience for Ellamin,” Is this the place Redovian?” Before them sat a rather large pile of rubble that once acted as a castle.
Unknowingly, the party of undead, lurked inside the confines of the once-was castle, with a gloomy ire. Two archers, and a swordsman, trained no further than how to aim, and shoot; the swordsman, to swing at anything that moved. To make up for this handicap, stood two hired mercenaries, one male, the other female. They sat, muttering betwixt each other around a small camp fire, while the single Necromancer leading this outer-post brigade stood with his back to the lot. Their instructions, to simply keep guard of what was going on inside.
Redovian is Frostmaw's Justice and the chosen paladin of Cyris for a damn good reason. So, as the pair appraoches the encampment, the man urges his comrade behind a large slab of rock that once was part of the marble floor of the castle. Using this as cover, Redovian looks to Ellamin after he sizes up the group. His voice is low, as he says. " This must be the spot, given the undead. But mercenaries too?" This new twist makes the paladin think. " Why would a necromancer hire mercenaries to guard undead?" He looks to Ellamin, saying. " Is your faith prepared to aid you when the time to strike comes?"
Ellamin was shaken, these people had no problems other than greed. They truly didn't care about the Necromancer, so Ellamin was caught,”I'll take the undead and the Necromancer, but the other two... I shan't strike..” Their crimes of greed were not in the same category of punishment like that of the Necromancer, whom he had a plan for already.
Redovian hears the sounds of footsteps against the rubble that liters this area, and nods to Ellamin, who has decided to deal with the undead, leaving the living mercenaries for Cyris' Champion to deal with. Movements far faster than that of a regular human, fueled by the blessings of Cyris and Kanos that augment his physical abilities, are taken as the pair of rogues make thier way up to the slab of stone. Rounding about their cover, the paladin once again draws his blades forth, still sheathed in their scabbards, forth to use as blunt weapons. The scabbards, which are leather, framed in blue steel and reinforced by divine magic, are swung with power and precise aim towards both ears of the nearest merc, while the paladin follows through with the momentum he has built up to drive the hopefully impaired man straight into his companion and force her to lose her footing and allow Redovian to gain the advantage. The slap to the ears is meant to impair the man long enough to cause him to lose his balance and thus act as a wrecking ball of sorts upon his partner. Following through the attack, fail or not, Redovian attempts to draw the undead's attention too, so that he may cause an opening for Ellamin to deal with them in a swift and clean manner, as not to alert those who lurk below.
Ellamin didn't have a bone his body for subtlety, and so he was going to deal with the undead with the only way he was really sure of. Smirking, he paused, a voice creeping within his head almost, whispers, something was attempting to talk to him. Not really sure what was going on, the young paladin just tried to listen, he tried to wait to hear the voice. It didn’t help, he didn't hear it, but he knew what it was saying at the same time. Approaching the skeleton's at a fast pace for being in armor, the young paladin flung his right arm back, Lights Wrath still gripped, and swung it forward at the nearest skeleton. Now, so far the party was dealt with not so much brutal force, until Ellamin used that damned mace against an undead. The mace glimmered, glittered, and flashed, releasing its holy energies into the air in an uncontrolled display of power. The skeleton's weren't blown away, they weren't smoldering piles of ash, they simply ceased at the strike of the mighty mace. Blinking, confused as to what in the hell had just happened, Ellamin grasps at his chest, pain wrenching throughout his body. “What... why do I pain... What is this?” Lights Wrath still not being fully understood or explained, just continued to glow in the paladins hand.
The first thug cursed loudly, and nastily enough to make even the heartiest of sailors blush. Eardrums blown, and his equilibrium shot, the poor bastard did just as the paladin hoped. Knocking his partner over in a grand display of drunken-like behavior, he simply cupped both sides of his head, and groveled in agonizing pain. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't swing a sword (let alone in the right direction) at anyone. Helplessly pinned under her mate, the second mec pulled her usual trump card, and burst into tears. Begging for her life, as if a thick chest would get her way; sadly, it usually did. Meanwhile, the three undead shell simply stood there, the dark glow in their eyes burning out like the cherry of a spent cigarette- the necromancer no where to be seen. Using his risen, and hired allies as distraction, he surged up ahead, hoping to warn them of the soon-to-be holy duo.
Redovian knocks the wailing woman out with a swift strike from his sheathed blade, and then follows up by knocking out the partner. Hoping that what they were ebing paid for wasn't worth thier lives, and if they awakened while him and Ellamin were gone, they'd choose to leave, Redovian looks to the deep hole in the ground that goes for a while into the bowels of the earth, saying. " Down there... can you feel it?" There was a presence of powerful dark magic looming from down within...
Ellamin nodded, following the senior paladin,” Lead the charge, I'll take after you.”
Redovian doesn't hesitate, and takes a leap of faith into the darkness.
The nameless (and heartless) necromancer's wild footsteps could be heard, scrapping and stumbling along. That weapon, whatever it was, had erased his minions, as if they were dust in the wind. "Intruders! We have” He stumbles,”Intruders!" His voice echoed down the steep decent.
Redovian is after the necromancer with relentless fevor. His augmented abilities,a blessing granted to him by his gods, allow him to travel down the chasms with tremendous speed and agility. The soft glow of his medallion, the holy symbol of Cyris, illuminates the area just enough to help him keep a solid footing. His hands rest upon the hilts of his katanas, his thumbs pressing the blades up just and inch or so, so their draw will be smooth and clean when needed. He doesnt look back, for he knows Ellamin is close behind.
Ellamin was muttering something, a rhytmic pattern making itself apparent in the common tongue that Ellamin chanted under his breath. It was a prayer, and it allotted for the armor about his form to decrease in weight, allowing the paladin at least the chance to follow after Redovian, whom had the benefit of being directly blessed.
Breathless, and exhausted, the cowardice necromancer sat hunched over his knees, waving a hand to a small crop of undead, and a second necromancer. He was next up in this marathon of relayed information, and without hesitation, broke into as quick a sprint as his thick robes would let him. Here stood an advancing handful of undead, no bowmen, but 3 with swords, 2 wielding axes. Groaning, they'd march without fear, the necromancer that stayed back, sticking around for this fight; he was a fool to stay.
Redovian continues forth unfazed by the sudden arrival of more undead. His god was with him, and he could feel his presence even in these deep chasms. With a single motion the paladin draws both katanas that rest upon his side, never once breaking his stride as he rushes forth into the fray. Ror'rih claims the first of the axe weilding undead, the powerful enchantments imbued into the blade freezing the skeletal servant solid, before it is shatterd into shards of frozen undeath by the follow up swing. But Redovian is not finished yet. Ryujin Jakka, the sacred blade of the divine crusader is not brought forth, the holy weapon now wrought with holy fire, which is a dangerous element for such foul creatures. With a few words of prayer for strength uttered aloud, Redovian swings the blade forth, releasing a powerful wave of the holy fire upon two of the sword weilding zombies, rendering the foul minions into ash before their master's very eyes. Still pressing forward like a cavalier through the front lines, Redovian lunges forth towards one of the necromancers, aiming to plunge any of the two blades deep into the chest of the dark magus..
Ellamin took on the two remaining skeleton's after Redovian had charged through, one with sword, the other with axe. Swinging Lights Wrath into the skull of the skeleton that swung an axe at the paladin, he merely crushed the boned creature into the wall of the chasm, causing splinters and fragments of bone to fly into the air. The other skeleton was met with a similar swing, but this one was flung into the opposing wall where it had crumbled. Ellamin didn't receive any pain this time, mainly because those two attacks didn't use the mace's power. However, there was the Necromancers to deal with. The voice that had made its way into Ellamin's head, started to do so once more. This time it told him to swing in the air, in the direction of the second necromancer, and all would be taken care of. He didn't know where the voice came from, or if it were truly there, but it had worked the first time. Stopping where he stood, the human swung the mace with both arms as if the Necromancer, whom was far away, were right in front of him. The mace flashed, and soon a blast of holy energies erupted from one of the tips as it hit mid-swing, blasting down the corridor the Necromancer was running down at this point. Ellamin fell to the ground, hand grasping at his chest as he panted for breath, it had felt like the air had been punched out of him, and his knees, how they ached now.
The bodies of the once walking corpses, had not only fallen, but crumbled to dust. Where the holy strikes from both men were plenty enough to remove the minions from the fight, that blast of light was pure overkill; it washes away the foul ruminants left behind. The necromancer who chose to stay, he had been busy channeling a dark incantation, black magic ready to unleash. His feeble attempt, however, was without success, for Lights Wrath's power was so great, the desperate attack was left moot. Charred and incinerated, the corpse of the unholy mage collapses to a smoldering pile of flesh, his partner up and around the bend, suffering a near similar fate. His fate, however, ended with two holy charged katana's, crippling his body from the inside out. To his knees, he fell.