Karasu Immolo
Skilled
I think I'd rather crucify then learn.
Posts: 51
|
Post by Karasu Immolo on Jan 14, 2006 18:58:18 GMT
He had traveled for many days and many nights from his hiding in the mountains of Mordor, but Karasu had things to attend to. His black horse trotted through the mountains of Angmar calmly, making its way towards the forbidden tower. The dark tower in which all the dark energies of Mandos had found their center.
It slowed to a halt outside of the great castle, and Karasu slid off of the horse's back, flattening his hair. He slowly walked up the stairs to the entrance, laying his weapons (including all the hidden ones) before the guards in respect to his soon-to-be master.
The doors were opened by ghastly beings, seeming to be Wraiths but they were not the Ringwraiths of Sauron, nay they could not be. His footsteps seemed to echo off the great stone walls as Karasu scaled the many stairs of Carn Dum to the topmost tower, the throne room. Here he saw a great creature.
His wingspan spread far across the room, and he had ironlike claws. He looked from the throne to the land outside the window, sorrow adorning his face. The land had been quiet since their arrival from Erebor.
"My lord Morsereg," Karasu began, unaware of his error as he kneeled before the vampire, "I am Karasu Immolo. I have traveled far to find you. I am looking for an employer, you see," He looked up to whom he thought to be the lord Morsereg, "I am a humble assassin. I know the tricks of the trade and can kill a man before he can blink. You would be better to have me on your side than against you."
|
|
Alucard
Skilled
Alucard, Vampire Servant of Morsereg
Posts: 65
|
Post by Alucard on Jan 14, 2006 19:22:49 GMT
Alucard set his eyes on Karasu, subtly frowning. "Before you go on, I am not Morsereg," Alucard stood, commanding Karasu to rise, "I am his right hand man, the Vampire Alucard...We have just arrived from battle in Erebor a fortnight ago." He paused.
"Morsereg died there." His head was hung as they talked, "He fell in battle, to whom I am not sure. Let it be known that it is Angmar's topmost priority to take care of the wretched being who killed him. Welcome to Angmar--" He was cut off, however, as his head whirled around to where the smell of blood came close to the room, and he heard the movement of stone.
|
|
|
Post by Morsereg Dîndaedel on Jan 14, 2006 19:31:50 GMT
A weapons rack, holding many battle axes and swords, along with the Morning Star flail of Morsereg, was slowly pushed open, swinging ever so slowly on its hinges. Morsereg entered the room, revealing an indefinite black chasm behind him, one of the many tunnels of Angmar. He adorned many cuts along his torso, and specks of dirt could still be seen under his nails. "Your lord..." Morsereg smirked, walking farther into the room and closing the entrance behind him, "can not die in battle..." He continued to walk farther, until he was inches from Alucard, "Unless it is his own blade which does it."
"Alucard...it was a mishap with the magick of Mandos. This is not the time for this. Go, rest, your time to rest has come my friend. Karasu," He spoke, pausing only to notice the shock on Karasu's face, explaining that he had heard the conversation while in the tunnel, "Alucard shall show you to your room. I shall hold better council with you both in the time to come."
And thus the two departed, leaving Morsereg alone at last. Leaving him alone to his own devices. He looked out the window, to the south, to Mordor. Where the legions of his brother returned from battle. "Come out...Come out..." He spied faintly the glimpse of far Misty Mountains, still a way from Moria, "Wherever you are..."
"I know what your dark heart wants, Alcorad." He spoke to himself grimly, "I know you envy my power. I know you wish to sieze it. For you yourself are in despair, for while you were the servant to the lesser power of Morgoth, whom was locked to the void, I was chosen by Mandos, the Doomsman. And his power flows through me. This is what you want, is it not?" He acted as though Alcorad could hear him, when in essence he knew he could not.
"Well then come take it," His eyes were grim as he turned on his heels to return to his throne, being left to his own thoughts.
|
|
|
Post by Alcorad on Jan 14, 2006 19:53:39 GMT
The night was grim on Alcorad's arrival, only some few days after the battle. It was raining heavily in Carn Dum, an ominous omen for it did not often rain but snow. The drops of water pelted the black stone of the mighty fortress furiously and clouded the gaze of those within for so thick was the storm that the horizon was distorted. The drops of rain splattered against the veranda, one similar to that which was at Barad-dur. This was the way that Alcorad had always entered the chambers of his brother via Fell Beast. So it was this night. A dark shadow was cast through the rain, small at first and it faded in and out of existence as stronger bouts of rain took hold of the atmosphere. At length it arrived, its shadow emmerging from the mist larger than ever, a behemoth winged creature of an ancient brood with a dark roder perched in a sinister fashion upon its back. The rider slowly dismounted stepping down from the railing onto the balcony and stepping through the arched doorway into the dimly lit chambers of the Bragolomarth.
The rider drew back the hood of his cloak to reveal himself as Alcorad, Morsereg's brother. "Greetings brother." Alcorad said stonily stepping forth. "It was a good victory at Erebor was it not? Sadly Orre managed to evade me but as we speak one of my emissaries seeks him out. He should be found before the end of the fortnight." Alcorad was speaking casually towards Morsereg, a slight glimmer of mischeif riddled upon his face as his crimson eyes looked Morsereg up and down tracing him for sighns of weakness. He was providing a diversion for the Lord of Angmar while he sorted out the vital points of his body.
|
|
|
Post by Morsereg Dîndaedel on Jan 14, 2006 20:03:48 GMT
"Orre is no longer of my concern," Morsereg shifted in his seat, glancing at the rain as it spattered against the windows. "My concern lies with a far greater prize, Aragorn of Gondor." He frowned, eyes resting on Alcorad, "It is your pawn who holds Erebor and Arnor now, is it not? This son of Morgoth, Murazor Bauglir? He does not concern me," He stood, pacing around the room, "It would have been a harder battle had I not intercepted the main of Gondor's host. I held them off in battle while Aragorn sent as little as he could spare."
"We fought...silence was over Middle-Earth as the favoured of Manwe and Mandos' prodigy clashed." He growled softly, "He defeated me. I will not let this go unavenged. He shall taste my blade." He turned to Alcorad, "And would you be so kind to stop staring at my body. I am free of injury, you need not worry about that."
|
|
|
Post by Alcorad on Jan 14, 2006 20:17:43 GMT
Alcorad laughed in a low tone and turned his dark eyes upon his brother in hatred. "I do not think silence was over Middle Earth, dear brother. I am quite positive that the catapults and trebuchets caused quite a commotion with the obnoctious calls of the dwarven scum to boot. It is as though you beleive yourself to be above all others. That you are the grandest of all of Illuvitar's creations."
"I too have fought Elessar and the Valar indeed do favor him but I did not allow myself to suffer such shameful defeat at the hands of a mortal. I did not use my abilities against him, nay. We fought blade to blade in the chambers of his citadel without the acknowledgement of any save his wife. But would you like to know what the real prize is, brother? The real prize is you. While Aragorn is the by far the most formidable man in Middle Earth that I have come across, and Orre is the tool of the Valar, you are the one that I wish to dispatch more than any. To long have you sat smug in Carn Dum flaunting your curse! Flaunting the fact that you cannot die! Flaunting your spirits here and there as your most feared emissaries! I truly have but one purpous and that purpous shall be recognized this night. I have come to kill you, brother and when I do, I shall take your spirit and your powers of Necromancy along with this fortress and all of your legions. I am not jealous of you, nay. I am quite confident that this night you shall die by my hand. But your presence here in the North rivals my own in the East and you know that. No other forces of the darkness her in this Middle Earth rival us, Morsereg. They may all fall here and there as dust in the wind but you and I... you and I will outlast them all if naught is done to stop it. In the end we shall fight, it is inevidable. So I have come to stop that from happening. I have come to end it here and now."
|
|
|
Post by Morsereg Dîndaedel on Jan 14, 2006 20:33:57 GMT
"I do not believe myself to be above all others, Alcorad," Morsereg laughed softly, drawing his blade, "I am the Doomsman of the Valar. No more, no less. The Black Istari is who I am. I care not for the petty affairs of mortals, so yes, I do believe myself above all the petty mortal fools who sit in their white city. You, however, I have always held an equal."
He nodded as Alcorad spoke, "I have known this for a long time, Alcorad. I knew this was to come. You could not deal that one of the greatest of the Valar chose me over you. That I alone of the Maiar was gifted with the powers of Necromancy. That even to this day my father still holds me in pride, while the closest thing you have wallows in the void, locked for eternity!" He hissed, eyes flaring. "I have waited for this moment, for today I am not the one to die," He began to pace around his brother, "Your pitiful excuse for a life ends this night. Before the sun reaches the southern wastes of Harad, I shall be devouring your flesh."
He rose his sword infront of his face, maintaining a serious tone, "Let's finish this." He awaited the first move from his brother.
|
|
|
Post by Alcorad on Jan 14, 2006 21:14:14 GMT
"Surely you jest." Alcorad said malevolently. "Mandos is a shadow, a figure of death and doom. He is not something to be feared but simply acknowledged as the fate of mortals and the fallen children of Illuvitar. I am not jealous of a figure of death. Morgoth was befitting to me for he was and still is the father of deception and darkness. Without him you would not be what you are today. He paved the way for the men of darkness. He created the orc. To count yourself among the dark ones is a mockery. You speak of your master as someone to be revered when he serves those of Aman. You speak of yourself as someone to be feared, a bringer of shadow. A contradiction is what I see and the unstable mind of a delusional fool. That is what I see. Your master cares so little for you and you are blind to it. He cursed you! He issued the order of your death! You have been given the same curse that Feanor had been given only in a different form... cursed to wander the world in doubt until the coming of the arbiter. I am the arbiter."
Alcorad scoffed with an insidious smile curled upon his features and grasped the hilt of his own blade, fingers running up and down the carvings of those who were deceased etched upon it. An image of each of Alcorad's victims became etched upon the blade and this day Morsereg would join that number.
Alcorad brought the blade from its sheath, its curves jagged and sinister from the carving of bones. Upon the blade were inscribed many runes that shined with a red glare that signified the impending doom of Alcorad's prey. That was what Morsereg would become. Within the range of the cold twisted steel, Morsereg Dindaedel, the Black Istari, would be reduced to naught more than a frightened animal, a trophy to hang upon the mantle.
"Come forth, brother! Let us do battle." Alcorad smirked darkly and charged forth with uncanny speed, swinging his blade this way and that, the runes inscribed upon it casting back disturbing images of death and gore. It was a death bringer, the fulfiller of an ancient prophesy.
|
|
|
Post by Morsereg Dîndaedel on Jan 14, 2006 21:28:43 GMT
"How could he have issued the order of my death, brother?" Morsereg asked, bringing his sword up to block Alcorad's ruthless swings, "When he determined that I am to die only by my own blow?" He smirked, ducking a swipe sent towards his neck and jumping backwards, "Why waste your time here, Alcorad? Lay down your sword. I do not wish to stain this room with your filth."
As the two single darkest beings of Middle-Earth clashed, the sun was blocked out in all places of the earth. They were blurs as they faught in the throne room of Carn Dum, eyes locked in a fierce fire for victory. So it was that Morsereg, taking on the offensive, brought the battle outside, on a fairly large balcony, so that all of Angmar could see the battle.
Here the battle waged, as wind and rain lashed against their bodies, ravaging them. "I think ye are the one who thinks he stands above all else," Morsereg said while dodging a swing, "For you are the one who wields a blade that is useful for naught but being a story to scare the children of Gondor."
And ever yet it went on, blades clanging in the air, echoing off the mountains as two of the greatest powers in Middle-Earth brought their powers against each other with all their might. Alcorad may have been a Death Bringer, but Morsereg was a Doomsman. In the end it was he, not Mandos, who would decide whether the innocent lived or died.
He impaled himself on his brothers sword, digging himself deep in, laughing himself into hysterics as the hilt pressed against his bleeding stomach. He ripped himself off of the sword, hopping backwards and onto the railing. From here, he jumped into the air and brought his sword down upon his brother.
|
|
|
Post by Alcorad on Jan 14, 2006 21:46:03 GMT
Alcorad smirked as the blade entered his brother and acknowledged that he was unphased. As Morsereg's blade came down upon him he smiled and pressed hard against it, the clashing steel ringing out in the night air as they pressed hard against one another in attempt to dominate the battle. "Fear is something I have always embraced." Alcorad said referring back to Morereg's initial statement with contempt. "It is something I have always used to weaken my foes." he continued with gritted teeth as he pushed Morsereg's sword away and smiled darkly as he spun about delivering a diagonal slash to Morsereg's left arm as to draw his fell blood from his body. He turned about once more this time moving back to deflect one of his brother's jabs.
He pushed Morsereg's blade again a second time and stepped forward into a frenzy, working his sword into a frenzy and switching the roles in the battle as he took the offensive. "I know well of your curse, brother! But you have weakness. The key to undoing you is only inches from my grasp. If I can wrench your blade from your hands I will plunge it into your heart and rid this world of your futile existence."
|
|
|
Post by Morsereg Dîndaedel on Jan 14, 2006 21:56:47 GMT
"Then I challenge you to take it from me," He spoke calmly, almost boredly, as he deflected the swipes from his brother. They were well matched, these two...it would be the perfect battle. "For that in itself is not an easy task,"
He continued to deflect blows for mere moments before he jumped over Alcorad's sword as it came towards his feet. Immediately from his jump he processed into a roll, ending up behind Alcorad's back to slash at him. "Fear gets you nowhere. People eventually get over fear,"
As the wind whipped his hair infront of his face, he smirked, "Yet the thing that stays within Mortals mind is insanity. They see something that scares them, in months they will forget it. They witness the presence of insanity...of a twisted evil who is matched by none other...that creature shall haunt their dreams forever,"
|
|
|
Post by Alcorad on Jan 15, 2006 23:16:15 GMT
Alcorad laughed in mockery of his brother's jest. "You seem to be most jovial today, oh dark one." he said sarcastically. "True fear is not something that passes with the phases of the moon. Nay, true fear stays ingrained far longer than some disturbing vagabond clown who flaunts his stupidity as if it were wisdom. I have had my fill of your constant contradictions, Morsereg."
"Now I believe there has been far too much dialogue and so I believe I shall heighten the stakes of this battle. The loser of this bout is deprived of their soul and all of their abilities." With a devious smile Alcorad spun about and pressed his blade hard against Morsereg's as he stepped back. With a mighty thrust the Lord of Defile cast Morsereg from the veranda, his sword slipping from his hands and landing on the wet stone with a loud clamor.
As Morsereg fell his fingertips caught hold of the balcony, the slick stone causing him to slip downwards with every passing moment, Alcorad stooped low and took the hilt of Morsereg's sword, lifting it towards the sky and eyeing the craftsmanship idly. "And so the irony of Mandos' curse shall take hold upon you." he said maliciously approaching his brother. His crimson eyes locked upon the black ones of Morsereg, and his hair billowed furiously as a fierce wind took hold of the summit. "It was long ago in Aman that I called you friend. It is strange what desire can do to people is it not? But then again power is something that cannot be sacrificed for petty bonds of comradery. Goodbye Morsereg." Alcorad held his brother's blade aloft and with a swift movement of his hand, reversed the hilt so that the tip was near to Morsereg's face. He heaved back in a lust for the blood and spirit of the Necromancer and jabbed forward with fierce might, a maniacal smile engraved upon his gaunt features. "May Mandos take you!"
|
|
|
Post by Morsereg Dîndaedel on Jan 16, 2006 1:28:10 GMT
Morsereg looked up at his brother, dropping one hand so as to swing to the side before hoisting himself into the air. As he flew he swung his arm to knock Alcorad away, grabbing his own sword as he landed. He stood there with his black blade, eyes locking on to his brother, "Aye, desire can fuel very powerful beings to killing each other off."
"This is my battle, Alcorad. You have no chance of winning here." He held his sword pointed at his 'brother's throat. "I give you this chance to leave Angmar, and this chance only. Leave, or I shall strike you down, and not even Mandos shall save your soul."
|
|
|
Post by Alcorad on Jan 16, 2006 1:38:34 GMT
"Such foolishness!" Alcorad said as he brought his blade up and knocked away that of Morsereg. "How is this your battle, brother? Please elaborate for I have been in this Middle Earth far longer than you and I have spent time in the darkest reaches of the world. Within the subterranean abode of the Balrogs and the pits of Angmar and Utunmo. Your idea of darkness is Avathar! That is naught but a home for insects." Swiftly Alcorad jabbed forward once more under Morsereg's arm as his brother jumped aside and then his right. He spun about whipping his hair around and striking Morsereg' across the face with it. As his brother flinched he brought his blade hard down upon his sword arm and pressed another attempt to snatch the weapon from him. "And if you think I am going to leave" he said bitterly "then you are sadly mistaken."
|
|
|
Post by Morsereg Dîndaedel on Jan 17, 2006 23:16:07 GMT
"Nay, there are darker places still, above Angband and Utumno," Morsereg's mouth curled into a grimace as he brought his sword down upon Alcorad, pushing onto his brother's sword with his weight while their faces were inches apart, "Even to this day you hold your loyalties to your master Morgoth. Even to this day you would do as he wished if he was to return," He pushed off, backing up a few paces, "I have abandoned everything. My master, my mission, my nonexistant heart. In my mind there is true darkness."
"Mordor is no longer the place of fears in Middle-Earth, Alcorad!" He shouted above the raging winds that by now had risen to nearly deafening levels as the wind lashed them. "Angmar is the true despair. Spirits abound. Middle-Earth has seen your abominations before, brother! They have become accustomed to them. My servants, they have not seen in years."
He drew his hand back at Alcorad's feeble attempt to grasp his sword. He sheathed his blade, ripping the sheath from his belt. "You want it? Go and get it," He tossed the sword off the ledge. Alucard stood below, having been watching with awe the might of the two Maiar. He grabbed the sword, flying to a high peak, out of Alcorad's reach, to watch the battle.
"Let's finish this," Morsereg spoke calmly, his eyes dilating until there was naught but black. "You eat souls, my brother, yes. So one may think of you as a Death Dealer, one who steals souls so they may not travel beyond. Yet there are still spirits in this realm who have not traveled on. And you are not as troubled by them as I am," He cocked his head to the side gently as he spoke, "I hear them screaming. The screams of lost souls...they cry to me. They empower me. And you know what they're screaming now?"
"They want me to kill you, brother." He laughed softly, "Even as they are despaired with their own agonizing pain, they wish for me to kill you. Yet I will not do it unjustly. You are a worthy opponent, Alcorad, perhaps even the only one left for me. So I propose this be our last strike. We summon all of the magick we possess, and see who exactly would triumph in a battle of sheer strength."
Morsereg backed away, to the edge of the balcony. All light in the world seemed lost, as they were left to stand in an infinitely black void. A purpilish flame engulfed Morsereg's hands as he rose them to point at Alcorad. The darkest magicks ever having been in creation were at his disposal at that moment...The lost tomes of Morgoth, of Sauron, of the Witch-King, and more. There had never been darker magick present in Middle-Earth before then, and there never would be again, as the magicks unleashed themselves from Morsereg in streams upn streams of black, aiming upon Alcorad.
|
|