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The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 3786382" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>No need to wonder long. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /> </p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 259</p><p></p><p>A RITE OF BLOOD</p><p></p><p></p><p>Hesperix reveled as raw, pure power flowed through his body. The flows of energy that permeated the main temple of the Talon of Orcus were visible to his altered sight as pulsating flows of black and red. The flows passed through the walls all around him, but tended to focus on the statue of Orcus against the back wall. The headiest part of the sensations that rushed through him was the realization that <em>he</em>, a mere man, controlled such power through his mastery of the rite of blood. </p><p></p><p>The ritual sharpened his awareness of his surroundings. He could taste the blood in the air, both from the font behind him, and the stale tracings on the body of the man before him. He imagined he could even smell the fear of the slain warrior, an afterimage of his emotions when he had died. </p><p></p><p>The dead warrior—and he was clearly that; the scars of dozens of battles were evident on his pale skin—was bound to an X-shaped framework of wooden beams that stood upright directly in front of the altar and statue of Orcus. From where Hesperix stood, the dark form of the statue loomed over the man, its hollow eyes staring down as if in contempt of this latest victim to the demon’s ambitions. The red light that diffused down from the ceiling above the statue cast the man’s features in garish relief, and gave his naked flesh an obscene tint reminiscent of blood. </p><p></p><p>The Seer had not made an appearance. The arcanist could not have failed to detect what Hesperix was doing here, and the cleric regretted that the enigmatic figure had not stirred from his lair. He would have enjoyed confronting the man with his new power behind him. The cleric nearly laughed. Plenty of time to attend to the settling of old scores. He had learned of the death of Theron and his entourage from his new ally; a pity, that. But there had also been a warning of other powerful enemies of the Master, former companions of the corpse here. They would be coming, no doubt, to recover their slain comrade. </p><p></p><p>Hesperix’s mouth twisted into a grim mockery of a smile. </p><p></p><p>The dark cleric’s attention occasionally shifted to the side. He did not have to turn to know that the revenant was there; he could <em>feel</em> the presence of the other. The undead being was favored by Orcus, clearly; Hesperix could still remember the stark surprise he’d felt when he’d realized the nature of the rod that the revenant carried. The thing had a strong power of its own, as well, a raw potency that Hesperix could sense even without the augmented perception granted by the ritual. The cleric coveted that rod, but knew that it had been freely given, and was as far beyond his reach as if it were located on the surface of the moon. </p><p></p><p>Still, if something were to <em>happen</em> to the revenant...</p><p></p><p>A sharp, stabbing pain in his gut drew Hesperix’s full attention back to the ritual. They were getting close, he knew. He still did not fully understand the Master’s will in bringing this dead man here, but with his hand and his mind fully restored, he was not going to pause at meaningless questions. The spell he was casting was one that had been beyond his abilities until just a few short hours ago, and the ritual was both amplifying and changing it. The cleric had to focus his full will upon the flows of power, drawing more and more of the negative energy through his spell into the temple, directing them into the body of the man. </p><p></p><p>And then, finally, it was done. The flows winked out so suddenly that Hesperix felt disoriented for a moment, as his perceptions were reduced to what they had been before. He felt keenly the absence of the greater commune with the power of the Master, but he focused more upon his subject, the limp form crucified upon the wooden frame. </p><p></p><p>“The Master calls you to his service,” the cleric said to the body. </p><p></p><p>The dead man stirred. </p><p></p><p>Talen Karedes lifted his head and opened his eyes. He stared at Hesperix and Navev. There was no life in his eyes, but nevertheless something burned in those cold orbs. </p><p></p><p>The former knight’s limbs clenched; the ropes holding his arms and legs strained, and the wooden frame tensed against the pressure. Hesperix and Navev just watched as the wood groaned, and then with a loud crack gave way. Talen leaned forward, scraps of timber still clinging to his wrists, and tore away the bonds still holding his feet. </p><p></p><p>He stepped forward, awkwardly at first, shrugging out of the remains of his bindings. Navev shifted slightly, a faint nimbus appearing around his left hand. Hesperix did not move at all, until Talen was only two steps in front of him. Then he lifted his hand, which bore his silver sigil; the horned skull of Orcus. </p><p></p><p>“Kneel, slave,” the cleric said. </p><p></p><p>Talen froze. For a moment, he trembled with the enormity of his effort. One leg shifted slightly, as he took a half-step forward; at that movement Navev’s hand came up, just a bit. </p><p></p><p>But finally, Talen slumped forward, falling to his knees. </p><p></p><p>Hesperix walked around him. “You are strong,” he said. “So full of anger... and hate. You will use that, to serve the Master. Now, you are His... His down to the depths of your soul.”</p><p></p><p>The cleric laughed, and he stopped as he came around to the back of the submissive Talen. </p><p></p><p>“This is a dangerous move,” Navev said. “He will resist you... especially when his friends come to reclaim him.”</p><p></p><p>“It is the Master’s will,” Hesperix said. He made a subtle gesture of command. </p><p></p><p>The figure that shambled forward had been a man, once. Now, the priest Calexes was just an echo of vitality. The robes he wore could not conceal the emaciated state of his body. The priest was silent; his tongue had been removed by Theron’s servants, and his arms were kept huddled against his body, concealing the fact that all ten of his fingers had been amputated. More had been taken as well, and it was the promise of the restoration of those missing pieces that had bound Calexes anew to Hesperix’s service. </p><p></p><p>Now the ruined man came forward, to stand before the new High Priest of Orcus. The former priest paid no attention to Talen or Navev. Hesperix drew out a knife from his belt, but he kept his eyes on Talen. </p><p></p><p>“You feel the need, I know. The <em>hunger</em>. Do not try to deny it; it is a part of you, now.”</p><p></p><p>Hesperix turned and reached for Calexes. The man did not flinch as Hesperix grabbed a fold of his robe and hacked it away with his knife. The man’s hide was tight around the bones of his shoulder, and his neck was pale, almost white. The high priest then drew the knife along the edge of his neck, opening a shallow gash that spurted a thin stream of bright red down his chest. Calexes closed his eyes and uttered a quiet sound, but did not otherwise protest. </p><p></p><p>Talen stared at the red flow. </p><p></p><p>“Drink,” Hesperix commanded. “Taste the bounty of your Master, and revel in it.”</p><p></p><p>Talen trembled; he could not look away. </p><p></p><p>“Take it! I command you!” </p><p></p><p>Hesperix’s shout echoed through the temple, and Talen stood, slowly. He did not move for several long seconds. Hesperix came to him. He wiped the bloody knife across Talen’s cheek, leaving a red trail across his face. </p><p></p><p>“You can smell it, I know. It is as good as you think, a thousand times better. You need only take it.”</p><p></p><p>A low moan rose from Talen’s chest as he moved forward in small, hesitant steps. The wounded man was starting to waver a bit, now, his breath rattling in his throat, standing there like a wounded animal frozen before a predator. </p><p></p><p>With a final sound of release, Talen leapt forward and seized the man. He sank his fangs into the mans’ throat, opening a fresh geyser of blood that he swallowed eagerly. </p><p></p><p>Hesperix and Navev watched him feed. “His will, his intelligence, his awareness of what he is, and what he has lost... it will give him strength,” Hesperix said. </p><p></p><p>Navev did not respond. He too, knew what he had lost.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 3786382, member: 143"] No need to wonder long. ;) * * * * * Chapter 259 A RITE OF BLOOD Hesperix reveled as raw, pure power flowed through his body. The flows of energy that permeated the main temple of the Talon of Orcus were visible to his altered sight as pulsating flows of black and red. The flows passed through the walls all around him, but tended to focus on the statue of Orcus against the back wall. The headiest part of the sensations that rushed through him was the realization that [i]he[/i], a mere man, controlled such power through his mastery of the rite of blood. The ritual sharpened his awareness of his surroundings. He could taste the blood in the air, both from the font behind him, and the stale tracings on the body of the man before him. He imagined he could even smell the fear of the slain warrior, an afterimage of his emotions when he had died. The dead warrior—and he was clearly that; the scars of dozens of battles were evident on his pale skin—was bound to an X-shaped framework of wooden beams that stood upright directly in front of the altar and statue of Orcus. From where Hesperix stood, the dark form of the statue loomed over the man, its hollow eyes staring down as if in contempt of this latest victim to the demon’s ambitions. The red light that diffused down from the ceiling above the statue cast the man’s features in garish relief, and gave his naked flesh an obscene tint reminiscent of blood. The Seer had not made an appearance. The arcanist could not have failed to detect what Hesperix was doing here, and the cleric regretted that the enigmatic figure had not stirred from his lair. He would have enjoyed confronting the man with his new power behind him. The cleric nearly laughed. Plenty of time to attend to the settling of old scores. He had learned of the death of Theron and his entourage from his new ally; a pity, that. But there had also been a warning of other powerful enemies of the Master, former companions of the corpse here. They would be coming, no doubt, to recover their slain comrade. Hesperix’s mouth twisted into a grim mockery of a smile. The dark cleric’s attention occasionally shifted to the side. He did not have to turn to know that the revenant was there; he could [i]feel[/i] the presence of the other. The undead being was favored by Orcus, clearly; Hesperix could still remember the stark surprise he’d felt when he’d realized the nature of the rod that the revenant carried. The thing had a strong power of its own, as well, a raw potency that Hesperix could sense even without the augmented perception granted by the ritual. The cleric coveted that rod, but knew that it had been freely given, and was as far beyond his reach as if it were located on the surface of the moon. Still, if something were to [i]happen[/i] to the revenant... A sharp, stabbing pain in his gut drew Hesperix’s full attention back to the ritual. They were getting close, he knew. He still did not fully understand the Master’s will in bringing this dead man here, but with his hand and his mind fully restored, he was not going to pause at meaningless questions. The spell he was casting was one that had been beyond his abilities until just a few short hours ago, and the ritual was both amplifying and changing it. The cleric had to focus his full will upon the flows of power, drawing more and more of the negative energy through his spell into the temple, directing them into the body of the man. And then, finally, it was done. The flows winked out so suddenly that Hesperix felt disoriented for a moment, as his perceptions were reduced to what they had been before. He felt keenly the absence of the greater commune with the power of the Master, but he focused more upon his subject, the limp form crucified upon the wooden frame. “The Master calls you to his service,” the cleric said to the body. The dead man stirred. Talen Karedes lifted his head and opened his eyes. He stared at Hesperix and Navev. There was no life in his eyes, but nevertheless something burned in those cold orbs. The former knight’s limbs clenched; the ropes holding his arms and legs strained, and the wooden frame tensed against the pressure. Hesperix and Navev just watched as the wood groaned, and then with a loud crack gave way. Talen leaned forward, scraps of timber still clinging to his wrists, and tore away the bonds still holding his feet. He stepped forward, awkwardly at first, shrugging out of the remains of his bindings. Navev shifted slightly, a faint nimbus appearing around his left hand. Hesperix did not move at all, until Talen was only two steps in front of him. Then he lifted his hand, which bore his silver sigil; the horned skull of Orcus. “Kneel, slave,” the cleric said. Talen froze. For a moment, he trembled with the enormity of his effort. One leg shifted slightly, as he took a half-step forward; at that movement Navev’s hand came up, just a bit. But finally, Talen slumped forward, falling to his knees. Hesperix walked around him. “You are strong,” he said. “So full of anger... and hate. You will use that, to serve the Master. Now, you are His... His down to the depths of your soul.” The cleric laughed, and he stopped as he came around to the back of the submissive Talen. “This is a dangerous move,” Navev said. “He will resist you... especially when his friends come to reclaim him.” “It is the Master’s will,” Hesperix said. He made a subtle gesture of command. The figure that shambled forward had been a man, once. Now, the priest Calexes was just an echo of vitality. The robes he wore could not conceal the emaciated state of his body. The priest was silent; his tongue had been removed by Theron’s servants, and his arms were kept huddled against his body, concealing the fact that all ten of his fingers had been amputated. More had been taken as well, and it was the promise of the restoration of those missing pieces that had bound Calexes anew to Hesperix’s service. Now the ruined man came forward, to stand before the new High Priest of Orcus. The former priest paid no attention to Talen or Navev. Hesperix drew out a knife from his belt, but he kept his eyes on Talen. “You feel the need, I know. The [i]hunger[/i]. Do not try to deny it; it is a part of you, now.” Hesperix turned and reached for Calexes. The man did not flinch as Hesperix grabbed a fold of his robe and hacked it away with his knife. The man’s hide was tight around the bones of his shoulder, and his neck was pale, almost white. The high priest then drew the knife along the edge of his neck, opening a shallow gash that spurted a thin stream of bright red down his chest. Calexes closed his eyes and uttered a quiet sound, but did not otherwise protest. Talen stared at the red flow. “Drink,” Hesperix commanded. “Taste the bounty of your Master, and revel in it.” Talen trembled; he could not look away. “Take it! I command you!” Hesperix’s shout echoed through the temple, and Talen stood, slowly. He did not move for several long seconds. Hesperix came to him. He wiped the bloody knife across Talen’s cheek, leaving a red trail across his face. “You can smell it, I know. It is as good as you think, a thousand times better. You need only take it.” A low moan rose from Talen’s chest as he moved forward in small, hesitant steps. The wounded man was starting to waver a bit, now, his breath rattling in his throat, standing there like a wounded animal frozen before a predator. With a final sound of release, Talen leapt forward and seized the man. He sank his fangs into the mans’ throat, opening a fresh geyser of blood that he swallowed eagerly. Hesperix and Navev watched him feed. “His will, his intelligence, his awareness of what he is, and what he has lost... it will give him strength,” Hesperix said. Navev did not respond. He too, knew what he had lost. [/QUOTE]
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