Irrumtus Auktor's page

My adopted clan has changed, of course I am to blame. Their wings are now gone, and in place they have grown powerful claws suitable for digging or killing. Their black scales and quiet skill with necromancy pleases me. But somewhere at the edge of my perception I hear whispers. Old texts from boring7's journals once spoke of a kind of mind-magic and its effects. Little to go on, but an interesting lead. Sycanol expands, claiming sections of Dogon's ever-expanding dungeons. As worms and gets and runts and grots create an underverse, we take what we wish to hold, and maintain perimeters.

My Aluminum servant has dredged memories from her new brain, and tries to twist probability and chance. It remains to be seen if she can.

And the other woman in my life, Nevara. I continue to send letters to the Lovely Lady, Nevara of the Night. I continue to entreat her for tea and conversation. She is such a beautiful mind.

I take the black rose, but not the walk. I do not believe in love, only death. I will make a garden of black roses, and bring death to Beriya. I will call my ravens and they will take me to my palace. My Necromancers will attend to your needs.

I am disappointed, but not deterred. I treat with the lady's minions and ask them their ideas. They speak of death as the only thing they believe in, yet I do not think that is true. Even Lady Nevara herself believes in the uses of life. She is willing and able to grow an entire garden of living black roses; creating new life in pursuit of death.

Of the necromancers most willing to consider other perspectives, I ask more about the Lady herself. She is still the most beautiful mind I have ever seen, and I wish to commune with her. She says she does not believe in love, but I think she is too scientifically-minded to simply dismiss something without proper experimental analysis.

Welcome visitors to my home. Would you like some bone tea? My living residents are playing with their Necrotic Engine. My Necromancers. They are making skeletons and zombies for an army of the dead. After the Destroyer does his destroying, I will send them down to take over. Are you staying long?

"Well I suppose that depends."

I draw a Black Rose, grown in my underground garden, and hold it out to the Night Queen.

"Would you agree to join me for a walk under the night sky? The air is lovely right now, and I would love to enjoy it with good company and good conversation"

do you believe that love can blossom on the battlefieldin the graveyard?

After days of travel, we reach our destination. My consort, Alanis, prepares for my grand entrance. Lightning and rays of heat burn a section of the Valley of Nevara. Breach-craft filled with undead horrors burst from the ground and establish a bloody perimeter. As my homecraft surfaces I step out into the twilit valley and shout to the goddess who lives here.

"Come forth, oh night queen, I would have words."

I await a reply.

An unclean monstrosity of stone, metal, and necrotic flesh burrows to the surface. Divinations have guided Clan Sycanol to the cold body of the dead aluminum dragon. As my apprentices and their revenant slaves secure the area from any remaining cultists praying to the dead beast, I call her once more to my hand.

Once clan leader, now my shadowy slave, she gave up her safety, her life, and even her name to her people before I took them away as well. Now I give something back, a fine, fitting body for her spirit.

10 human throats are slit to open a door, 100 human souls are offered to entice a demon of sufficient power, 1000 animate iron chains bind it as 1 blade takes its life. With the blood of a greater demon spilled and the wraith of my first servant in my hand I staple her very soul to the metal body before me and fill it to the brim with spectral energies.

Her eyes open, she is mine, but she is also so much more. As she spreads her new wings, clan Sycanol withdraws. Again we make our way to the northwest. My consort above and my followers below.