Corruption

This is a story of madness, and great separation. continue on at your own risk. There once was a man who lived in a small cottage at the edge of Necrovion. Due to living next to such a tainted, power-scarred place, the man had developed a mental illness, and was plagued by voices and whispers everywhere he went once a month He went up north to marind bell to get supplies for the next month. The whispers would taunt and goad him all the way there, telling him he was a fool to leave his house, a fool for not surrendering to the madness within himself. For this man was once a powerful mage, working for the ruler of Golemus Golematicus to hunt down and execute practitioners of the most foul of the Arcane arts, necromancy. Ah, but i'm getting ahead of myself. Where to start, but the beginning. It all started two hundred years ago... The sun was bright as Laerin walked through the vibrant forest. The trees were green and healthy, and the sun dappled the ground through the canopy of leaves above him. As he moved, the trees seemed to whisper their greetings to him. all was calm, and all was at peace. A figure came up to him through the trees, appearing as if by magic. Laerin spun on his heel "I didn't know You were there, Falthas." He exclaimed. "my apologies for the intrusion, Master" apologised Falthas. "why did you want to see me?" asked Laerin. "I..I.. Can't" he stammered. Laerin looked at him and frowned. "Slow down, now" He said, not unkindly. Falthas took a deep breath, then tried again "I can't stop it, master! It won't stop!" .Laerin raised an eyebrow. "My creature, master! It's running wild!" Laerin's eyes grew wide. "Where?" he cried. Falthas pointed to the south-east, gasping "the holding pens". Laerin cursed, then sprinted in the direction Falthas had pointed. Falthas stopped gasping for breath, and grinned. The trap was set. All was chaos at the holding pens. Bodies littered the floor, bloodless and lifeless. Yet more bodies hung from the trees like gruesome decorations, and dripped blood down onto the scene below. In the middle of the clearing, a giant suit of armour stood, motionless and apparently inanimate. The armour was immaculate, burnished iron and steel glinting in the sun. All of the armour, except the hands. They were stained red with blood and viscera, the grasping black claws covered in a dull red mask. The grass around the armour was blackened, and dead. It was as if something of immense power had been summoned directly where the suit of armour was standing. Laerin surveyed the scene with a sigh, looking down at the mutilated bodies near his feet. "I was too late" he whispered. Then, he drew his hands together as is if clasping something to his chest. With a look of fury, he thrust his hands outwars, fingers splayed and palms outwards. The suit of armour shattered into dust. Then, Falthas arrived. "I see it's dead, then." He stated. Laerin looked around, hearing an odd tone to his pupil's voice. Laerin said "yes, although not without cost." He gestured to the bodies around him. "Cost?" Falthas said. "What cost is this?" He grinned, and for the first time Laerin noticed something wrong about it. The teeth were filed into points. "Cost is not the word, master" He said "No, it is.. Sacrifice!" Laerin jumped back, not realising that the had stepped into the circle of grass. The edges of the circle flared a sickly green, and a strange set of runes appeared around the edge. "You don't know how long i've waited for this, how long I've suffered beneath your paltry regieme" he shouted. "You couldn't know, no-one could know!" The edges of the circle flared red, and suddenly, all the corpses on the ground started to move. "Falthas, don't!" Laerin cried. "You don't know who's power you wield!" Falthas laughed. "Do you think I haven't planned this? Do you think I haven't gone over this thousands of times? Do you think this power comes without work?" he screamed. "well then, your thoughts will be put to good use! Rise, my minions!" With that, the corpses left intact shattered into fragments, and rose into the air. "Falthas, no!" Laerin cried. "Ah, but yes... My servant" Falthas whispered. The dismembered parts of body sped towards Laerin. Laerin's body cracked and split, to accomodate these new components. Where seconds before there had been a man, now a golem of flesh and blood, with weeping sores and open wounds stood. Falthas cheered, his joy evedent on his face. He lowered his hands, and the runes and circle went dark. The golem stood there, impassive. "I obey, master" This was the first death.

(To be continued) [Golemus Golematicus is a society based on the aquisition of knowledge. They generally don't pick sides, but they have now]