Army of Darkness
Information
Name: Army of Darkness
Shortname: AoD
Server: Guild Server
Current Leader: Mephisto
IRC channel: #AoD-tavern (on galaxynet)
Forum: http://aod.the-reincarnation.com/fortress/
Membership
Many mages have been AoD members through the years, tho there are several players that remain in AoD until present days:
Veterans: Mephisto,Malred,sub valient, Torpilion, Ra, Baldus, Frozen Wombat, Dahak, Arkran, Melvidar, CrazyIvan, Glenfiddic, Tentayne, Selvena, Sparhawk...
New Players (with great potential): Dramidj, SazzTam, IBCfreak, Sparta(Vana), Sanzo Batusai, EnGels(kick ass vet actually)...
Honorary mention (former AoD members): Ishmael, PFCS, Thinas, c0nz, DonDon, BloodBain, Samoth, Raistlin, Knight, Aegon, Nikademus...
The Land
The grounds around the fortress were decaying into marshland, now.
Once, it was a flourishing countryside with a healthy environment and a vegetation to match. Rivalling the tropical rainforests, it was almost an independent, natural circle of life capable of sustaining itself with the mere help of the sun's rays. Before they were blocked...that is.
The blocking of the sun was the first thing that happened after they came. The first action of theirs, giving away their intentions. The first act of destruction. Death is generously distributed where they roam, predators as they are. But a different one. These beings are not Nature's creations, for their killing does not serve a greater purpose. It doesn't seem to serve a purpose at all. Their killing does not leave room for new life to appear, replacing that which was removed. Nothing, and I stress, nothing can live in their wake. The land, now, bears witness to this fact.
They cleared an enormous amount of land to begin with. I remember it ever so clearly. Trees, cut down, grasses burned away. The earth was shaved bald when they were done. Then they built. Rock after rock, spike after spike, bar after bar. Together, they formed the massive monstrosity of a castle, a fortress, on our once vigorous lands. I saw it, and my heart ached, my mind refusing to believe it would sink any lower. How incredibly naive I was. It was then, the smoke came. Masses of thick, suffocating, fetid fumes spouted from the castle's top as though they were burning something, but it would not stop. In the end, even the rays of the red disc gave up and deserted this land, leaving it to the sparse mercy of putrefaction.
The beings that came and destroyed this land have been named long ago, and this name, I tell you, will be remembered. "The Army of Darkness". A fitting alias for this army, and one they seem to have accepted. The fortress is merely referred to as "The Dark Fortress. An equally fitting name for the castle they built. It would seem that everything they even graze, everything their thoughts even dwell on, receives the adjective "dark". For that is their nature.
The transformation is complete, today, resulting in the marshland we now see. No one travels there voluntarily any longer, but themselves, and those of Nature's children that, like the land, were warped by their evil and thus do not fear them any longer. Their escape is no longer possible. They are trapped, and they will remain so. The strong land fought valiantly, but failed. If they could do this to Nature, I dread what they can do to man.
Enter, and you shall never leave.
The Prisoner
The once firm ground had become wet and sloppy with time. The green grass that once governed the surface was gone and replaced by a sickening swamp, the color of which was an unappetizing mixture of gray and brown. Finding one's way in the labyrinth of the swamp's many passageways was impossible without either a map, or ancient knowledge of the place. The dense, pale fog that lay over the land in only two metre's height forbade navigation by eyesight, and its lazy floating around in soft waves revealed no intention of leaving...Ever. Here and there, relics of the past in the shape of old, gnarled trunks stuck out of the swamp's depth, their twisted, naked branches reminding anyone watching of a person gasping for air as he penetrated the surface after a deep dive. The trees were long dead, however, caught forever in their morbid gasp for breath. The still waters of the marsh polluted the air with a foul stench of sulfur, added to the feeling of death already present in the area. The silence that you normally expect in a graveyard had followed to this place and thus, the only sound being heard was that of an odd breeze sneaking its way around your ancles, bearing whispers of tales long dead, lives long lost.
The silence was abruptly shattered to pieces by the sound of thundering hooves, travelling at high pace through the swamp on one of the paths still negotiable. There were 28 of them, the hooves. Belonging to 7 horses. A comment one would normally deem too logical to be noted, but you never know with this place. 6 of the riders were similar in appearence. They wore jet black plated armor that jingled like the chains of a dungeon each time the snorting horse planted its metalplated hooves in the ground, scarring the land even further. An ear-splitting shriek left them as they passed by, echoing out in the silence of the marsh. Their black capes were torn and shredded as though they'd spent a good time in the earth before rising, and the lower parts consisted only of jagged strings of fabric that wipped after them as they rode, leaving tiny maelstroms in the dense layer of fog.
The seventh rider was different. He looked...human. Especially in comparison to the knights. His clothes were those of the average tavern patron - Woollen shirt, brown pants of animal's hide, black leather boots and a green cape. They rode in formation. 2 knights on each side. 1 in front, 1 in rear. The seventh rider in the middle...As though to prevent any attempt at escape. The riders swiftly disappeared in the thickness of the fog. It took a suspiciously short time for the mists to settle again, reassuming their usual, lazy swirls - As if they parted only to allow the knights entrance, enveloping them in their track through the swamp. The knights reappeared at their destination shortly thereafter. The destination - the fortress - was truly a dreadful sight to behold. With its countless, serrated spires it towered high above the swamp and it is said that because of its incredible size, people outside the swamp's grasp have mistaken it for a mountain as they could imagine no other thing capable of being seen from their location, over a hundred kilometres away.
Here, at the gates of this, I assure you, quite real bastion of evil the knights stopped. There was a rumbling sound of heavy mechanics working, huge gears turning, chains being drawn. The gates swung slowly open to allow a person from the inside exit. The person walking out was clad in black as dark as the knights' armor, his face hidden by the hood. His voice was weak, raspy and hoarse but seemingly well respected. Despite the person's humble size and lack of apparent means of self-defence, he had an ability to seem superior to the much heavier knights, and they moved on their horses almost as if...fearing him. This, my friend...is most definitely a nether mage. There could be no doubt. He slowly hissed the single word:
"Yyyyyeeeeeeeessssssss?"
The front knight's eyes flashed red underneath his horned, full helm as he turned his head slightly to meet the eyes of the mage on the ground. The knight's voice was no less creepy, yet very different from the mage's. The knight's voice sounded...unreal. It echoed in itself, as it the words were distant and had crossed planes to finally end their journey here.
"Sssssilandril, Masterrrr. We bring a prisssss-oner...Starrrd-ving man, he isss."
The fabric of the mage's hood flapped slightly, indicating that the head inside had turned a bit to shift its vision from the knight to the seventh rider. He seemed to contemplate the human for a little while, judging him. Then, he slowly nodded.
"Enter."
He turned around and walked back into the fortress through the slit between the gates. Within moments, the metallic sound of the gears inside returned and the gate swung fully open. The knights entered and the fortress locked itselv up again. Outside, everything was as before. Deserted.
