NationStates Jolt Archive

The shattered mind of Gravechill had begun to reform. He might have lost his immortality during his years of torment in the Underworld, but he did not lose his ability to recover. His insanity was fading slowly, but his hatred for the living only grew.

He had begun to remember why he hated the Lich Queen, his banishment from Ermor, his long years in the Underworld... He knew that he was old now. So old... So tired... But the war would continue forever, and so would he.

He also remembered a place he had sealed during his times as a Demilich under the authority of the death cult of Ermor. A place where he had left a small trace of Ermor's power for the time when he would have taken over and turned Ermor into a land of undeath.

But he never got there. The living did it before him. And that power was still there and now he needed it more than ever. He was unable to remember what he had stored there, all he remembered was that it is of power he needed.

--

He was in front of a cave, sealed off with strange, unholy powers that made it seem almost impenetrable. Many had tried to crack it open, with magic, with explosives, with holy and unholy chants, with different kinds of technology, but nothing had worked. He had meant it to be this way. No one was to enter the place, no one except him.

Only he knew that being undead was a prerequisite for entrance. But that was only one of them. One must also be powerful in magic, and not in just any magic, only death would suffice. Even that would not be enough without the correct words and hand signs. He had never told anyone how to enter it, nor had he written it anywhere. Its source of power was the Underworld itself.

After performing the rite he himself had created so long ago, he entered the cave. The seal had been broken.

(OOC: This takes place in "modern tech" times, as Gravechill was forced into it, but Ermor itself ignores modern and future tech, at least for the moment. Gravechill is the only link Ermor has to the modern tech age, and even that is based on fantasy.

EDIT: Since no one is apparently taking part in this, much like what happened in my other RP where people actually did say they'd be in it but in the end didn't really continue, I'm closing this one as an RP and making it more like my own story thread. Have a nice day.)

Gravechill walked down the dark cave and he came to a room, square in shape, built right into the rock itself. The cave continued even deeper, but he saw something taking support from the walls... And suddenly those things began to move, sluggishly. He could see them. Soon he remembered. He had placed wights to protect the cave in case someone got through. Yes, and he was only going to leave them there for several years. So many things went wrong. But he was unable to feel pity or sadness. He only grinned twistedly.

A cold voice said to him, "Welcome back, master."

The wights kneeled before him. Their bodies were extremely dusty and their armors had turned to dust centuries ago.

Gravechill said to them, "Yes, I have returned... I shall now claim what is mine. But tell me this. How long was I... Away?"

One of them answered,"A thousand years? Two thousand? We are not sure. For long we waited for you to return. But now you have awakened us from our slumber."

Gravechill gave out a cold, dark laugh. "So long?! Then the power here must have grown at least a thousand fold!"

He continued down the path and the wights followed him. He still could not completely remember what he had left here. But soon, soon he would.

Memories, long forgotten, continued to reform in Gravechill's dead mind. This place was of great importance, it held power he needed, but he could not remember what was it. He only remembers that he placed something there, something that would grow in power, or maybe in amount over time. He couldn't be sure.

He had to remove several other seals which he had forgotten all about as he advanced in the cave. He could almost feel it... Something massive in front of him. He just could not say what it was. Yet, at least.

He came to a room, much like the one he had seen before, but in this one, there was a small library, and he saw a door on the left side of the room. Apparently he had left some of his books of necromancy behind. Weirdly he had no recollection of it as of yet. He showed no interest towards them and without saying a word, he continued to walk down the cave. He was close already, he could feel it.

"What in the name of the dead gods is this?!"

Shouted Gravechill, as the cave suddenly came to a stop, seeming like a dead end. There were so many white pearls blocking the way further, and they illuminated the place with their pale light.

Then he remembered. He had placed two, only two clams that would produce a magical gem of the astral kind each month. Apparently they had worked for so long that the room they were in was already full of gems, and they had already began to fill the rest of the cavern. They had been there for centuries, for millennia, and that was the result.

And no one knew, no one but him.

He would have to use his skills in alchemy to turn them into other gems he would need. Every mage in Ermor had known this kind of alchemy, and the process would require two astral gems to create a gem of any other kind. That is also why he had created a laboratory to this place, to make it possible to turn them into other gems right here, without being noticed.

He took as many gems as he could and walked back to the room with the door and the smallish library of his. His memory had started to work. That was where the laboratory was. He told the wights to guard the library.

He opened the door, and to his amazement, everything there seemed to be in working order. Again he remembered more. He had intentionally preserved that room magically. The preservation had ended when the outer seal was broken.

He put the gems on a black table, and began his work.

Gravechill ran to get more astral gems from time to time, as he knew he would need a huge amount of every sorts of gems if he was ever going to get where he wanted to get, and apparently no one had noticed what he had done.

The wights just stood there, doing nothing, waiting if someone would dare to enter this place.

--

After a while, Gravechill had enough elemental based gems, but he still needed all the other kinds, so he just continued on his work.

It did not take long for him to cultivate enough gems of every kind. He was content with his work. Soon it would be time for him to begin his "project". Something he now had in mind, as he had been unable to take control over the Ashen Empire.

He had heard of Etimmu whilst in the Underworld, and he knew of his exploits. An Ermorian who learned the secrets of death and conquered a kingdom for himself. Yes, that is what he wanted to do as well now. Although the kingdom would be that of living, he knew he could control them as he could control the undead. And if you turned the living against one other...

The last thing he made was a magic pouch, one to which he would place his gems. The pouch would shrink them, and he would be able to carry more of them that way.

When he was leaving the place, he told the wights to wait where they had waited before.

And he would return shortly this time, as a Priest King of a nation.

The kingdom the cave was situated in was a small one, small and undefended. It would be easy for Gravechill to take over. He knew this now, his memory had slowly regenerated, and the process was still not complete.

They were magical, a bit like the elves he had seen in the southwestern parts of Ermor without them knowing. But he also knew that they were not elves, as they were more like humans with some elven traits than the other way around. They called themselves "eldakkar", and he would destroy them.

--

As he left the cave and went closer to the settlements he knew of, he began to cast spells. The gems he had made would help him greatly.

He would use their own dead against them.

First he formed an army of phantasmals and longdeads. With that he would bring forth terror to the living. They would also work as the main line of the offensive. He also summoned a great number of longdead horsemen, which would be the first ones to strike.

He also summoned a few sentient beings to this place, to bring a dominion more suitable for the undead. They were called Mound Fiends, and their powers over the magic of death and their unholy priestly powers were only surpassed by the Ermorian Archbishops.

His army caught the eldakkar completely off guard. No one could stop him from advancing. After days of small skirmishes and minor open battles, the undead army was already at their capital. He had enslaved many and slaughtered equally many, and after they had broken into the capital, he marched through it, victorious. The war had ended, and he would now rule the nation.

He named himself the Priest King of the Eldakkar, and the ones that were left alive were corrupted and forced to worship him as god. They would be his spies in the outside world, and they would also be his closest followers.

The Mound Fiends, the priests of Gravechill, had quickly altered the land. His dominion was not quite as hostile as that of the Ashen Empire. Living beings do not age there, nor is the place in perpetual darkness, but the land is dead and does not bear food nor fresh water.

But he had also succeeded in one of his own ambitions, and he now had control over his own immortality, as it was now bound to his own nation. There he would not die, ever.

--

Gravechill wanted to build a place of his own into his new country, and so he did. He had empowered his own skills in earth magic with some of the gems he had cultivated, and he now used the rest he had to bring up a mighty tower, where he would live and do research.

He would move everything that is in the cave to that tower, and the wights would be his own personal guards. He had succeeded.

(OOC: And after this, Gravechill will be bound to the nation of "Eldakkar", not Ermor.)

He had built his tower right in the center of the largest city the Eldakkar had, destroying many buildings that had been left empty as many of them had been slaughtered. The ones he had left alive were low in numbers and in spirit, and they were easily controlled by him. He was now the Priest King of the Eldakkar, although, in the way rulers are measured in the modern times, he would be a psychotic dictator, evil to the core.

The once fertile lands were now dead. All of it. The food the living got came from the cauldrons of broth Gravechill had made for them. Their supply of food was endless, and that was all they would get in these desolate, dead lands. Their minds were corrupted quite quickly, and they embraced the undead. They would work as Gravechill's own cultists who would spread around the unsuspecting world. He would be, in the end, much more powerful than the Ashen Empire ever was and ever will be, or at least so he thought.

He used the undead to transport the gems into his great tower, as he thought that the living cannot be truly trusted. There he created many more items that would bring even more gems and he continued to change their shape through alchemy.

He was quickly growing in power, which was something he thought he had lost forever when the Lich Queen banished him from the Ashen Empire and when the Lord of the Underworld had tortured him.

He had created a group of Demiliches from the locals to control the many cities, towns and villages in the nation. They were his slaves, after a fashion, as he held their lives in his hands; if they rebelled, they would die. They were to continue the corruption of the ones who still lived, and use the undeads in the areas under their control to keep the rebellious ones in check. They had been the first ones to fall under Gravechill's lure, and he gave them "immortality".

He usually summoned beings from the Netherworld and from the Shadelands, as they were much less affected by the one who even commanded them, Lord of the Underworld, whom had tortured him. He thought that most of the beings from the Underworld itself would be untrustworthy, as they have been under the control of the Lord for very long periods of time usually. Especially since time works differently in the Underworld, even if someone just died, he or she could still have been there for hundreds of Earth years.

And in his dark tower, Gravechill plotted his revenge. The Lich Queen would have to pay for what she did to him. But that time was not at hand, not yet.