by Geltab
now master Varias had an abundance of both.
Lordin settled into his new life as Varias very well, the centuries spent observing the peoples’ behavior prepared him for every scenario. After just over ten years with them he was looked upon as a wise and trusted fire mage instructor. How could anyone have known that every student he instructed over the centuries he infected with a magical curse. This is the reason Lordin allowed so many thousands of his students as Varias to grow to become extremely powerful magi. They were never out of his control. He always knew his spell was sleeping, hidden just below the surface of their consciousness waiting for his command to awaken. When the time was right and his power as Lordin had been reawakened to its apex after being given the three magical items, he would already have an army of the world’s most powerful magi under his command. This is the nature of his curse, when he bids it, they shall all become mindless servants to the will of Lordin.
That appointed time has arrived, after receiving his rebirth of power through the robe, the ring and the staff. Upon revealing himself, Lordin was now prepared to summon his former students. The magic lands at large were completely unaware of these events unfolding. The council of seven who witnessed his reveal were dead and Lordin had not yet begun the summoning process, which created unmistakable disturbances. Now, with all items and events in their corresponding place Lordin was prepared, when he had vanished from the council chambers he transported himself to a powerful vortex of ancient dark energy within the planet, capable of carrying his magical essence to every being infected with his curse. Hovering above the vortex, Lordin uttered the single incantation word to open the portal. The vortex opened with an explosion, through Lordin and all around him shot waves of red and black energy, sparks of green began to fly from him as the power grew and began coursing through the very ground. The land and air moaned with the sparkling dark energy, Lordin was now acting as a dark magic conduit. The extreme power and sheer intensity of the event was even beginning to drain Lordin’s vast magical reserve at first and he could feel the tug of fatigue on him even wearing the three most powerful items in the magic lands. Lordin did not let up however, how could a god do so? With a deafening wind like a thousand thunderstorms followed by a final bang the vortex was gone and the energy was coursing its way out into the world. All of master Varias’ students would soon be coming home. “The magic belongs to me alone,” hissed Lordin through his formless face.
Throughout the magical lands life was interrupted simultaneously by the sound of what seemed like a horde of locusts. The sound washed through the land and was gone in seconds, seemingly making no changes. What the general population could not know was this noise was activating every trained and cursed magi throughout the land to serve Lordin. They were all instantaneously transported via the vortex no matter where they were throughout the magical lands, regardless if they were living or dead, his former students were all transported to him. Lordin was now bathed in a menacing blood red glow hovering above a black cone of evil vortex energy. He seemed filled with its power, draped in the blood red robe of the magical ancients, itself now a living entity swirling about Lordin’s form. The ring of judgment glowed the deepest of red, the glow was sickening to behold, the power too immense. In his enormous almost formless hand, the most powerful weapon of magic ever formed the staff of creation. In the hand of Lordin it formed a black line seeming to separate time and space themselves. It was through this line of the staff that dark energy seemed to flow.
There was a crushingly loud humming sound building around the vortex followed by another crack of thunder and green sparks, another boom that shook the sky itself, this was all followed by a black mist covering the visible area. The glowing red power emanating from Lordin burned off the mist to reveal an endless sea of red robed disciples surrounding the vortex of Lordin. Their heads were bowed in silent obedience, awaiting his first command. As far as could be seen were red robed magi, some of these figures now standing in silent supplication were the most powerful magi in all of the magic lands. Surveying his army of newly obedient minions, Lordin was pleased. “We are the future of magic my children, you shall be called my obedient army.” Lordin said to each of their minds. “Today the so called magical city of Kurlam with its weak and pathetic magi must be purged. We are magic; your dark energy is true freedom. The other magi within their walls dabble in their elemental trash, while we control the very fabric of existence. Behold children, my power. Witness the vision in your mind!” At that moment Lordin began showing all of his gathered followers what he was doing elsewhere simultaneously all over the magic lands with his new power. “They think controlling fire or ice is a power, watch as the true lord of magic raises another army to tear down and defile their palaces of monumental ignorance, an army of the dead.”
After his words, throughout the magic lands a black mist descended on all the graveyards. Instead of hovering or dissipating like a normal fog, the mist sunk into the ground. The ground began to stir and awaken with the dead now unhappily and unwillingly coming back to life. “You shall witness your loved ones come back to claim your life from beyond the grave,” Lordin hissed into the minds of the people of the magic lands as hordes of undead began ravaging villages throughout the countryside. Each mage in the obedient army of Lordin was also being shown these scenes of the dead rising to begin claiming the villages of the living. “Now my children, we go to Kurlam.” As soon as Lordin had spoken the words the entire obedient army was transported to the immediate area surrounding the magical city of Kurlam. Lordin had them all end up just outside the city, with himself at the front of the sea of red minions following behind. He spoke again telepathically to his army, “I did not send undead hordes against Kurlam, and this is where the foul leadership of their weak magi has taught false magic for ages. They do not deserve such a quick and merciful end as being devoured by a former loved one. Now, forward.” With that command the sea of red began to move towards the walls of Kurlam. Lordin had destroyed the council of magic and the seven ruling magi just a short time ago. The city was in an absolute panic and state of chaos. There was no time or willpower to mount any adequate defense. Instead, the city sent a peace delegation out to meet Lordin as he floated towards their city. They hoped to surrender unconditionally to him and plead for his mercy.
The surrendering party consisted of three horsemen in white carrying white banners. The highest ranking magi still alive after Lordin’s massacre was on another horse draped in white and wearing a white robe behind the three banner horsemen. They trotted out to meet Lordin at the head of his obedient army. Lordin had stopped moving forward when he first noticed the surrender party. All in order to make them travel the distance and come to him, by waiting and making them do the work he makes them appear as beggars. Lordin always enjoys training his subjects and enemies in the most subtle psychological ways. When the surrender party reached him they immediately dismounted and prostrated themselves before the massive supernatural form of red and black that is Lordin in all his glory, hovering above them on air as if his very presence is above the existence of this reality. Lordin could see the walls of the magic city loaded with people watching the events unfold. To be under siege by a regular invading army with their screaming and hollering is frightful indeed, but to see a completely silent army of robed figures move towards their city with what looks like some godlike monster leading them in complete silent order terrified the people more than if there were a billion screaming barbarians at the gates. There was something unnaturally evil and otherworldly about this army and its leader. The people of the city also knew the head of this army to be the legendary dark being Lordin, who had for century’s lived among them as fire master Varias and who had earlier murdered the entire council of magic.
“Please great Lordin we lay our city and lives at your mercy, please accept our total surrender, we beg of you,” said the mage who had come with the other three white knights.
“So, you are the mouthpiece of the city now ar
e you Gorvis?” Lordin spoke, knowing all about the mage, he could actually feel Lordin’s gaze penetrating his flesh.
“Yes lord; after you…removed the council of seven, I was selected by the people to inform you of our terms for unconditional surrender.”
“Yes, terms” spoke Lordin. “The terms are as follows, I will murder all in the city and cleanse it completely, then I will begin expanding my rule from MY new holy city of Lordinian. I do not require slaves and I don’t enjoy the stench of humans so your women and children would only be in the way, you all shall be removed. Those are the terms; the only thing you and your people have to fulfill is your role to die for me. The stunned mage rose to his knees with his hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer. Tears began streaming down his face too shocked to speak. “Take them away; I will save their heads for later to place on peace pikes. Seems fitting,” Lordin said. Several hooded figures moved forward to remove the surrendering peace delegation. As the mage was being dragged away he looked at the
