03-30-2005, 06:29 PM
Death asked for a tome to be crafted so he could impart his knowledge to any one of his followers. It took years to craft a book capable of containing such vile information. The skin of angels was harvested after long battles, the blood of demon kings was drained to use as ink. It has been said that Death would not tolerate the harvest of flesh from a dead angel....
The books creator had slaved for months hounded by Death to finish the book, Slaving away in the deepest darkest level of Deaths workshop. Death had enough and decided to end the life of his slave for failing to succeed. Gathering a few of his followers Death descended into the lower levels of his workshop, At the same time the books creator had finished winding the last strand of angel hair through the books binding. The book seemed to come alive and pulsate, It was finished, after many failed attempts the book was finished. The creator lifted the book into the air infront of him and spoke the books name aloud, The citadel shook and Death was sent hurtling backwards into a stone wall. The fortress's walls seemed to expand outwards in disgust at the uttering of the books name. Death arose from the floor of the workshop and howled in pain, the castles walls fell still and the expansion ceased as the stone was struck by his blasphemic voice. He stormed forward pushing his followers out of his way sending them falling to the floor and screaming in agony. Death ripped the door of the workshop open and stormed in to find the book laying in a pool of blood and gore. The blood rippled and receded into the stone when Deaths shadow touched it. He walked forward and picked up the book. A loud thunderclap could be heard throughout the citadel and the air seemed to buzz with electricity, Deaths fingers sunk into the cover of the book and he howled in pain as the books disgusting beauty burned the flesh on his hands. He tried to release the book and found that he could not, smashing about the workshop tools and armor were flung to the ground as he stumbled about in his blind rage. Death brought the book up above his head and screamed the loudest he ever has, His black cloak filled the room and twisted about him growing and pulsating, crimson lightning shot down his arms hitting the book, and black acrid smoke poured out of his eyesockets. The book seemed to glow red as more of the red energy was forced into it. Deaths followers forgot the agony they were in and attempted to come to his aid...
Death howled once more, and the citadel fell to ruin.
The Seer had told me that when the flames had died down Death was no where to be found.
In the resulting fire the book had changed, it's covering was no longer smooth, The skin had become infested with maggots and it pulsated as they crawled in and out of their new home.
A plague seemed to infest the book and it scorched the ground around it.
The books creator had slaved for months hounded by Death to finish the book, Slaving away in the deepest darkest level of Deaths workshop. Death had enough and decided to end the life of his slave for failing to succeed. Gathering a few of his followers Death descended into the lower levels of his workshop, At the same time the books creator had finished winding the last strand of angel hair through the books binding. The book seemed to come alive and pulsate, It was finished, after many failed attempts the book was finished. The creator lifted the book into the air infront of him and spoke the books name aloud, The citadel shook and Death was sent hurtling backwards into a stone wall. The fortress's walls seemed to expand outwards in disgust at the uttering of the books name. Death arose from the floor of the workshop and howled in pain, the castles walls fell still and the expansion ceased as the stone was struck by his blasphemic voice. He stormed forward pushing his followers out of his way sending them falling to the floor and screaming in agony. Death ripped the door of the workshop open and stormed in to find the book laying in a pool of blood and gore. The blood rippled and receded into the stone when Deaths shadow touched it. He walked forward and picked up the book. A loud thunderclap could be heard throughout the citadel and the air seemed to buzz with electricity, Deaths fingers sunk into the cover of the book and he howled in pain as the books disgusting beauty burned the flesh on his hands. He tried to release the book and found that he could not, smashing about the workshop tools and armor were flung to the ground as he stumbled about in his blind rage. Death brought the book up above his head and screamed the loudest he ever has, His black cloak filled the room and twisted about him growing and pulsating, crimson lightning shot down his arms hitting the book, and black acrid smoke poured out of his eyesockets. The book seemed to glow red as more of the red energy was forced into it. Deaths followers forgot the agony they were in and attempted to come to his aid...
Death howled once more, and the citadel fell to ruin.
The Seer had told me that when the flames had died down Death was no where to be found.
In the resulting fire the book had changed, it's covering was no longer smooth, The skin had become infested with maggots and it pulsated as they crawled in and out of their new home.
A plague seemed to infest the book and it scorched the ground around it.
