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Zerathur A. Naszberuk
by on September 19, 2022
Bellowing roars and guttural screeching from below marked the entrance of this cave as the only way into their Hive. And yet, despite the stench of blood and bone, the corruption that spreads through air and land, there was no one at the door. Not a single insectoid guarded the area, only the carpet of flesh that pulsated with a heart and mind of its own. As he trudged through the snow and stepped into this revolving putrid mass, its tendrils latched onto his hooves but were not able to stop his advance.
Despite the arctic wind that howled and the blizzard that ravaged the frozen wastes just outside, walking deeper and deeper still into this hellish cave was like walking into a sauna, the ice walls and ceiling coated in hot dripping mucus. Orbs of pale blue light flickered into existence around the archmage as he marched, headed in the direction of the echoing screams. It wasn't long before even They noticed his presence, and a pair of large spider-like fiends stepped out of the crevice in which they hid to block his way. He ignored them. They growled but did nothing to stop his advance.
In the depths of the cave, where ice turned into stone and the smell of death was the most pungent, there he found his quarry. The walls were covered in gurgling and screeching creatures of most abominable shapes, and in the center of a large circular room, two beings battled for survival. One of them was a large mantis-like biological construct, covered in mouths, spikes and arms with the sole purpose of slashing and cutting through flesh. A biological machine built to kill. Its opponent was equestrian in shape, from the distance it would merely seem like a mare with a long flowing green mane. It was clear from the speed at which she dodged and weaved her attacks, however, that she was no Equestrian.
Neither of the combatants seemed to notice as a tall silhouette stepped into the arena, but that would not be for long. Suddenly, the enormous Warwalker fell to its knees and bellowed a scream loud enough to silence all others, each and every single pain receptor within its body ringing in such a way that it had never done before, and never will again. The creature curled up and passed away in agony as its opponent looked at it in confusion.
"It looks like you're getting slower, Queen of the Northern Hives." Thus proclaimed the Archmage, lowering his foreleg and watching as the materials he had thrown into the air burnt into nothingness as the spell cycle came to its end. The mare in the center of the room straightened her posture and raised her head, the chitin around her perfect lips cracking and breaking into a crooked smile. "Zerathur, or should I say.. Evergrowing.. What do I owe the pleasure?"
Post in: Lore
Topics: #loregang