” Banner.” You growl, as the man drops to the ground before him, faint wisps of energy coiling about his hands. He nods solemnly, and rises to his feet, flexing his new claws. With that finished, you finish the march to the Caz, and stand outside their fortress. Four low hills surround a fifth, taller one, crude barricades of fallen trees filling the space between the outer hills. Atop the central one is a large hoop, and the metal is familiar to you. It is steel, heavily engraved with silver runes. They sting a bit just to look at it.
But no matter, you have work to do. Your tribe encamps, and begins going through the motions, meeting the Caz, sharing stories, making conversation, and haggling for the copper, selling animal hides and dried meat for the occasional spearhead or arrow. Many of the Caz are strangely uncomfortable about dealing with your followers.
But that matters not to you. In the night, as almost everyone sleeps, you begin entering the minds of the Caz, whispering offers and making threats. You whisper of power, and let them feel their body being rpipped apart by leplenas and great horned beasts, let them see themselves drowning in molten copper. Then you show them driving enemies before them, lying on exotic hides and feasting upon endless delicacies, and other wonders, saying they can be yours if only they submit. You concentrate on those who guard and hunt, but near everyone does the former and almost no one does the latter.
The shaman is very similar to Damena, and indeed the two were once friends. He falls upon having a vision of being lauded for his discoveries, and making a thousand hoops like the one above his tent. About a dozen others also pledge service to you in a week’s time.
You decide that is enough, and prepare for battle. Your sign is painted upon the skin of those who follow you, and Damena sprinkles magic powders and pastes onto Samana, Banner, and some of the stronger warriors, offering them some protection from arrow and axe.
Sneaking into the tunnel goes well enough. No one raises an alarm, and you burst into the middle of the camp. The first to fall is a young smith preparing a fire, and your axe tears through his throat. He raises a choked cry, but none seem to hear. You and your followers spread out, knocking unconscious and binding a dozen or so people before someone lets out a shriek.
Damena and the corrupted shaman both raise their magic, but not realizing the other follow you, it is a long moment before anything is done. In that time someone climbs to the hoop and begins activating it, although they simply send a few warning shots over the heads of your warriors, unwilling to fire so close to their own. Some begin to consider escape…But then the elephanea charges into battle, smashing aside a flimsy barricade like it was made of grass, roaring, it’s tendrils whipping at those who flee before it as it drinks in their pain. Banner screams in response, and the energy around his hands shifts and takes the form of a skeletal man, who dances about the Caz charging at you, and every single one of him suffers some unexpected misfortune, although they are mostly minor.
Then you are in battle, and the most problematic thing is finding new foes to kill. Bonebiter chews through feeble flesh and leather armor, and then with a wave of the axe a dozen men die, their lungs crushed by their own rib cages. You force their skeletons out of the body, and then they collapse and you feel pain like nothing you have felt before. The hoop blasts its divine energy into you, channeling righteous wrath. And it burns! It takes everything you have just to endure the pain. Your warriors let loose arrows at the knot of resistance around the central hill, and at the hill itself, but the hoop does not stop. You are greatly weakend by the time it is shut down by Damena, sending a bolt of fire through it and killing the wielder. Your troops advance inwards, the beasts walking beside them, mouths bloody, while behind them helpless captives cry to the dragons.
You are feeling angry now, and it shows. You wave your arm, and draw all your magic to yourself using so much power it is again painful. Then you unleash a beam of your malice into the still defiant warriors, and they grow mad, turning on each other, axes cutting into the flesh of those who were once their friends. The madness ends within minutes, but your followers have taken advantage, and there is no more resistance.
Now, what shall you do with those who survive…and what shall your new fortress be called?
Current form: A mighty man with the head of a bison and vicious, bloody claws.
Arms: 20 (Weapon) (Injuries)
Body: 16 (Weapon) (Injuries)
Mind: 20 (Weapon) (Injuries)
Magic: 20.5 (Weapon) (Injuries)
Other: Holding Bonebiter, the Bloody Maw.
Samana
Arms: 4
Body: 3
Mind: 1.5
Magic: 0.5
Damena
Arms: 1
Body: 1
Mind: 4
Magic: 5.5
Banner
Arms: 2.5
Body: 4.5
Mind: 3
Magic: 0.5
2 uncorrupted rouses
62 followers
34 servants( 5 Leplenas, 21 Rouses, 1 Burnwolf, 4 Rockcrushers, 1 Elephanea)
Scythes of Beleth
50 cultists
32 power (10 for totems, 5 for worship)
7.5 resources
Led by Samana and Damena.
Author
Topic: The Exiled Demon (Read 37064 times)