Sequence III: Perdition - The Cessation of Pestilence.
Posted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 8:47 pm
WARNING! This is a Sequence Complete: Kylerryth thread. There may be any and all of the following involved: physical, mental/psychological, emotional, and/or landscape/widespread violence; mutilation; threats; nightmares; sundry illnesses; and general strangeness.
It is here, at the Broken Dagger, that another Emissary of Perdition has fallen beneath the violent ministrations of mortal weaponry.
The first to fall was Archimedes, the Emissary of Famine.
The second was Madison, the Emissary of Pestilence.
Perhaps the outcome might have been different had it not been raining heavily, had Madison brought her "army": the insects, the alien-seeming creepy crawlies that had wreaked havoc on Myrkentown and its outlying communities as only they can -- as they had, for months on end. Perhaps, however, was not a guarantee. Oh, Madison's success in the elimination of life-things had exceeded that of Archimedes, certainly. Her methods would have complemented his own, too -- famine and pestilence striking in tandem, could you imagine it? But here at least, the Emissaries were not known for cooperation. (A particular prophecy, however, hinted otherwise.) And in the end, Madison had failed -- and failure for the Emissaries meant death, for their mission to erase every trace of every living thing on the planet is paramount in their collective thoughts. It is their holocaustic dogma.
As it stands, however, Madison is dead -- or, more accurately, has been killed by the group effort of some lucky and lusty life-things, much as Archimedes had. Strange, how history repeats itself, but this is a fortuitous turn of events for the people of Myrken Wood: another demon dead, another threat to their lives and happiness removed.
But, sigh, many more to go.
Kerrak, out of righteous punishment and in a bout of fiery madness, had incinerated the demon's bones with the Power. Madison had been a skeleton in truth, and ten feet tall with two long horns and glowing green eyes to boot -- her "body," if it could rightly be called such, was the aforementioned "army" gathered around her skeletal frame, a sight that one poor girl hadn't lived to tell about. This (the incineration) occurred after Madison had fallen from the combined fatal blow Kerrak and Bishop had dealt her, and even had Kerrak not taken the liberty to do so, the bones would have disintegrated of their own accord, exactly as a severed hand and a few phalanges had earlier in the melee.
Alas, Kerrak's method of disposal has left Tebrin minus a bola, a fact the latter may (and likely will) take up with the former; and the kitchen staff may be wondering why one of their good frying pans has a big dent in it -- a question answerable only by Agnieszka, the wielder of said frying pan, and those who had been involved in the demon's demise. Miraculously enough, not one of the mortal combatants suffered any injury, serious or otherwise, from Madison. Kerrak, however, overextended himself by means of drawing too much of the Power: after performing the incineration of Madison's skeleton, he vomited and then collapsed, and had to be carried by Agnieszka and Bishop to the barracks, where it is assumed he will make a full physical recovery. Kerrak's mental state, of course, is another matter entirely.
Madison had not arrived alone in Myrken Wood.
With her had come thousands, possibly millions of insects -- including those lethal carriers of disease and despised icons of malice, the Flux Wasps. What no one knew was this: the Flux Wasps were direct extensions of Madison, created by her and used for her nefarious purposes. In her eagerness to kill, however, Madison had in turn overextended herself by creating too many of them -- and by creating too many of them, she lost control of them; they went wild, attacking any human they encountered and dying immediately after delivering their deadly package, the Bloody Flux. She weakened herself thusly, and with every wasp's death a portion of her strength and endurance was made irretrievable. So Madison went from openly attacking people to skulking about the woods and traveling through the trees, where her skeleton blended easily into the twisty, gnarled limbs. There wasn't anything she could do about the wasps anyway, so she, believing herself capable of continuing her mission, considered the deaths of many life-things as an acceptable trade for losing a part of her own vitality.
That, as it turns out, was a fatal mistake on Madison's behalf -- and because of her symbiotic relationship with her "army," it was fatal to them, too. When Madison died, so did they.
Thus ended the plague and tyranny of insects.
Thus died Madison, and with her her insects.
Thus did the unnatural pestilence in Myrken cease to be.
* * * * *
It is here, at the Broken Dagger, that another Emissary of Perdition has fallen beneath the violent ministrations of mortal weaponry.
The first to fall was Archimedes, the Emissary of Famine.
The second was Madison, the Emissary of Pestilence.
* * * * *
Perhaps the outcome might have been different had it not been raining heavily, had Madison brought her "army": the insects, the alien-seeming creepy crawlies that had wreaked havoc on Myrkentown and its outlying communities as only they can -- as they had, for months on end. Perhaps, however, was not a guarantee. Oh, Madison's success in the elimination of life-things had exceeded that of Archimedes, certainly. Her methods would have complemented his own, too -- famine and pestilence striking in tandem, could you imagine it? But here at least, the Emissaries were not known for cooperation. (A particular prophecy, however, hinted otherwise.) And in the end, Madison had failed -- and failure for the Emissaries meant death, for their mission to erase every trace of every living thing on the planet is paramount in their collective thoughts. It is their holocaustic dogma.
As it stands, however, Madison is dead -- or, more accurately, has been killed by the group effort of some lucky and lusty life-things, much as Archimedes had. Strange, how history repeats itself, but this is a fortuitous turn of events for the people of Myrken Wood: another demon dead, another threat to their lives and happiness removed.
But, sigh, many more to go.
* * * * *
Kerrak, out of righteous punishment and in a bout of fiery madness, had incinerated the demon's bones with the Power. Madison had been a skeleton in truth, and ten feet tall with two long horns and glowing green eyes to boot -- her "body," if it could rightly be called such, was the aforementioned "army" gathered around her skeletal frame, a sight that one poor girl hadn't lived to tell about. This (the incineration) occurred after Madison had fallen from the combined fatal blow Kerrak and Bishop had dealt her, and even had Kerrak not taken the liberty to do so, the bones would have disintegrated of their own accord, exactly as a severed hand and a few phalanges had earlier in the melee.
Alas, Kerrak's method of disposal has left Tebrin minus a bola, a fact the latter may (and likely will) take up with the former; and the kitchen staff may be wondering why one of their good frying pans has a big dent in it -- a question answerable only by Agnieszka, the wielder of said frying pan, and those who had been involved in the demon's demise. Miraculously enough, not one of the mortal combatants suffered any injury, serious or otherwise, from Madison. Kerrak, however, overextended himself by means of drawing too much of the Power: after performing the incineration of Madison's skeleton, he vomited and then collapsed, and had to be carried by Agnieszka and Bishop to the barracks, where it is assumed he will make a full physical recovery. Kerrak's mental state, of course, is another matter entirely.
* * * * *
Madison had not arrived alone in Myrken Wood.
With her had come thousands, possibly millions of insects -- including those lethal carriers of disease and despised icons of malice, the Flux Wasps. What no one knew was this: the Flux Wasps were direct extensions of Madison, created by her and used for her nefarious purposes. In her eagerness to kill, however, Madison had in turn overextended herself by creating too many of them -- and by creating too many of them, she lost control of them; they went wild, attacking any human they encountered and dying immediately after delivering their deadly package, the Bloody Flux. She weakened herself thusly, and with every wasp's death a portion of her strength and endurance was made irretrievable. So Madison went from openly attacking people to skulking about the woods and traveling through the trees, where her skeleton blended easily into the twisty, gnarled limbs. There wasn't anything she could do about the wasps anyway, so she, believing herself capable of continuing her mission, considered the deaths of many life-things as an acceptable trade for losing a part of her own vitality.
That, as it turns out, was a fatal mistake on Madison's behalf -- and because of her symbiotic relationship with her "army," it was fatal to them, too. When Madison died, so did they.
Thus ended the plague and tyranny of insects.
Thus died Madison, and with her her insects.
Thus did the unnatural pestilence in Myrken cease to be.