Seed Of Corruption [Fel-Sworn]

[Miah]

(Warning - Crude language and other themes, such as violence may be present, just as a warning!)

(Also, feel free to post feedback, as long as its not just mean Also, sorry for the lack of colour co-ordination between chapters, the colours seem to change each time I did it)
Part 1: Realisation
Part 2: Origin
Part 3: Theories
Part 4: Construction


Part 5: Capture
Part 6: Acceptance
Part 7: Betrayal
part 8: Surrender (conclusion)

"Seed of Corruption

The seed of corruption is a powerful spell, that when cast, causes the target to physically manifest any corruption they have in fel-energy. This can result in effects such as crying blood, leaking a toxic, fel corrupted fluid from the mouth, or skin, or other equally unpleasant effects. If left long enough, and the target is corrupt enough, it can leave them, quite literally choking in, suffocating in, or being smothered by their own corruption..."

Bailey closed the book, setting it down on her lap. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the wall of the tavern's grubby room, recalling to herself.

"Yes" She thought to herself. "...Pretty sure that's what happened to him...He deserved it though..."

Earlier this day, she had encountered an unpleasant individual, who, in their previous encounter, had rendered her missing a good part of her cheek, after biting her, seemingly in an insane rage. Fortunately, she, with the help of others, had managed to stitch up the wound, which was partially healed by their efforts

"...The world's going mad...",

She sighed to herself, touching the makeshift bandage on her face. She took another deep breath, shutting her eyes, as a flashback crossed her mind involuntary, the look of horror on the other gnomes face as he realised what she had cast on her, before the foul, toxic ichor had started to dribble from his mouth. She quickly twisted her head to the side, shutting out the memory.

“He. Attacked. Me. Got that! He attacked me..!” She reassured herself. Though a small voice in the back of her head replied.

“...Ah, but you followed after him...you could have just let it be...”

“But he would have come after me again!”

“So naturally you took solving the problem into your own hands...”

Bailey rubbed the bridge of her nose, cursing quietly in gnomish. She was exhausted, and would think better of it in the morning.

“Are you not forgetting something...?”

Bailey instinctively reached for a small piece of chalk at her bedside, absent mindedly drawing out a symbol on the wall, a Symbol she knew off by heart by this point. Once it was complete, the summoning circle glowed faintly green, and she shut her eyes, palms outstretched to the wall. Chanting ancient word's and rites in a voice far from her own, she began to pull open a gateway to the twisting nether, Ripping forth an imp from the circle forcefully. Blinking open her eyes, she quickly dived on the imp, cupping a hand over it's horny, sharp toothed little mouth, to silence its innocent screeching. She held it tightly to herself, trying to stop its struggling, while at the same time feeling the rush of energy soaking from the weakening demon. A single, piercing screech escaped through her fingers, as the demon's life was ripped from its sunken, withered body, and Bailey dropped it instantly to the floor, where it crumbled like burnt paper.

“F-f**k...”

was the only coherent word she could muster, as she slid down the wall, trembling, a flicker of green passing through her vision, before a euphoric, overpowering sensation passed through her. For a brief moment, she didn't care about anything in the world, and it was the moment she savoured, before finally, still trembling, she felt the energy leave her, though a new feeling, like a stronger second pulse passed through her veins.

Her addiction temporally sated, she made to stand, but a new sensation, one she had not felt before, began to pass over her. An odd sensation, similar to a headache, but after a moment, the feeling grew stronger, until she was on the floor of the tavern, screaming into a hand cupping her mouth. Voices of unknown origin echoed inside her head, and for a moment, the world turned black.

The first thing she saw as she awoke was her pocket watch. Blearily, she checked it, and was concerned to see a few hours had passed since she last saw it. Standing, her leg's still shaking, she made her way to the small mirror in the room, looking herself over. The bandage on her face had fallen away, and as she looked, aside from the stitches, and a slightly pinched look to the right side of her face, it seemed to have healed over.
Bailey stared, for a good few minutes.

“No...Nonono...Not this...Please don't let it be...”

She lifted her fringe slightly. She cursed unrestrainedly in gnomish. She looks away, and slowly, looked back. Two tiny, greyish black nub's of bone had inched their way forward, the tip of bone barely piercing through her skin. She looked over herself once more, tearing off her shirt to try and look for any other signs of the Fel-taint. Relieved, she discovered nothing more, her skin, albeit ruddy, looked the same tone, her face otherwise unchanged. “...I can just wear a headband...and...and stop while i'm ahead...” Shakily, she reached down to pick up her shirt again, failing to notice the small, bony growth's, like skeletal finger's, protruding from her shoulder-blades, reflected in the mirror.

[Miah]

Part 2: Origin

Something didn't feel quite right as she passed through the tavern, feeling eyes of strange, unpleasant looking individuals on her back as she past through to the storeroom, shutting the thin wooden door behind her. Something strange was in the air, that made the back of her neck prickle, as she pulled a well chosen book from the bookshelf on a hinge, causing the bookshelf to slide aside. Coughing from the dust risen from the bookshelf, she began to make her way down the floating staircase, a strange, almost reassuring feeling in the back of her mind as she descended into the depths of the place, squinting her eyes in the dim light of the torches in brackets along the wall.

Once she had descended, she strode purposefully across the circular room, and approached a fellow warlock, a human, with dark-tan skin and sunken grey eyes. They exchanged words, of which Bailey was barely listening, before being allowed to bass into the catacombs below. She passed by a cage, in which was another human, fearful looking, who pleaded with her for freedom.

“...Nothing I can do for you, I -told- you not to try looking for this place. Looks like they caught you, just as I said they would...”

She signed a little, turning a corner down a final flight of stairs, hearing the man's anguished yells and curses after her.

“...Poor bugger...”

The final room was mostly bare, though as she entered, a portcullis slammed down behind her. There were no torch bracket's on the wall's of this place, the only light came from a huge, Deeply purple glowing array of symbols and Eredic writings scrawled on the floor. Moving to the edge of the circle, though not entering it, she pointed her palms flat to the centre of it. Without a pause, she began to chant a few well chosen words in Eredun.

“...Ered'nash ban galar...Ered'nash havik yrthog...Ered'nash ban galar...Ered'nash havik yrthog”

A column of dust began to rise in the centre of the summoning circle, before finally, with the sound like a whip-crack and a plume of light purple smoke, a demon was brought forth. Standing at the edge of the summoning circle, Bailey looked in on the succubus. She had never liked the things, after all, she was sure of herself, and her feelings, so she knew any emotion a succubus brought out in her was false. This offered her some resistance to the demon's magical charm, though she still kept a wary eye and a firm grip on her senses as she threw a dark, shimmering shield around herself, stepping into the circle.

She raised her hand's, ready to drain the demon, as she often did, having no other purpose for summoning, she rarely cared what she summoned, as long as it satisfied her addiction for a few hours. But as she looked over the demon, she noticed there was something different about it. It seemed..taller, and somehow more powerful than the succubus she was used to summoning. She narrowed her eyes, looking into the face of the demon. It was enough.
In her haste, she realised that she had summoned not an average succubus, but a queen of suffering, a more formidable demon to control. One far beyond her own skills. She tried to run, but in the split second of eye contact she had felt all resistance ebb away, and she simply stared up at the demon, mouth slightly open, completely enraptured. If she had had the willpower to attack, the demon would likely have slain her on the spot for the “insult” of being summoned forth. Yet, it seemed, the demon never missed an opportunity to corrupt the weak willed, rather than simply kill them. With a snap of it's sharp looking finger's, it summoned forth a small vial, filled with a thick, black liquid, which it held outstretched, having to kneel to pass it to Bailey, who accepted it without a moment's pause.


“Drink..” She said simply, in a silky smooth voice laced with underlying venom. “..And your thirst will be forever sated...”

Another sound like a whip-crack, and Bailey found herself sat, right in the centre of the summoning circle, holding the vial, which had seemed so small in the demon's hand, though it was almost the length of her forearm. A battle was raging in her mind. “Don't -ever- accept an offer from a demon, that's lesson number one of summoning! Your being stupid even considering it!” But even as she spoke, she found herself twisting the cork from the vial. She eyed it with a trembling hand, realising that despite bringing about her cravings for fel by summoning the demon, but without being able to satisfy them, that it would take a huge amount of willpower to stop herse-...

Her thought's were cut short, as she realised she was already drinking, and the moment it touched her lips, she felt a conflict, she both hated herself for losing control, but was overwhelmed by the power she felt. Moments later, she collapsed, thinking with her last moments of consciousness.

“...Big vial for a gnome, that...”



"....Ack!"

Bailey woke again in the tavern, in a cold sweat, having knotted herself up in the bedsheets, catching her breath.

"Hah....hah......Why can't I dream about...flying or something, always with the flashbacks..."

She flopped over onto her side again, rubbing her forehead. The horns protruding there had grown out another inch.

[Miah]

3. Theories

Bailey lay awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling her pocket watch tick against her chest, in time with her own heartbeat. Her mind was racing. She knew that there was no way to reverse her addiction at this point, yet she was sure there was some solution, some elegant means in which she could avoid consorting with demon's to quench her growing need to sate her dependence.
A source of Felblood that cut out consorting with higher demons. Of course, the first thought that struck her mind was lesser demons; surely they would carry the same taint in their blood.
She gulped, as a disturbing thought crossed her mind. Taking her pocket watch out of her pocket, she set it on the table, so that she could face it, and began pacing in front of it. She did this often, she felt like somehow, talking to it felt less lonely than talking to nothing in particular. She used it to reason with herself.

“..If your family knew what you're thinking of trying…Well…Yes of course they won't find out but that's besides the point…I suppose it's not like I'm doing it to a person or an animal, it's a demon. In fact, I'm probably doing a good deed…Yes albeit in a pretty twisted way but heck…it's kinda like my –reward- for getting rid of a demon…”


She nodded once to the pocket watch, resigning herself to doing something desperate. Standing, she turned to the faded summoning circle on the wall, and focussed, ripping forth an imp from the twisting nether. It took a huge force of willpower after using such magic's not to drain the imp on the spot, but she focussed herself, grasping the imp's body in one hand, its head with the other. She shut her eyes, turning slightly green in the face, as she wrenched the screeching demon's neck, and a moment, and a horrible crunching snap later, the demon dangled limply in her hands. “It's only a demon...” She reassured herself, though her voice quavered slightly, as she drew a buck knife and a vial off the table. She pierced the demon's scaly throat, and a trickle of light greenish blood began to seep out of its neck, which she caught in the vial. Wasting not a second more, she dropped the imp, and drank the vial's content's. She blinked, allowing the sour, sickly taste to wash over her tongue, before gagging, and rushing to a bucket in the corner of the room. A moment later, she raised her head, her face pale with a tinge of green, and a little trickle of the blood down her chin. She looked almost guiltily at the pocketwatch.

“…So…so it's not the same…But…I surely felt something…”

Pale faced, she still seemed thoughtful.

“All demons are tainted, but the taint increases with the power of the demon…But…if I could concentrate it…”

She rushed to the desk, wiping a trickle of blood off her lips, as she began to write out calculations, talking aloud.

“Felblood is denser than normal blood…If I were to boil away the residue, what's left would surely be the tainted element…right?”

She paused, as if waiting for a reply, before nodding in agreement to the watch, opened up an alchemy kit from under her bed quickly, taking a large beaker, and moved to the demon. Half disgusted with herself, half mad with hope, she wrenched the demon's head clean from it's body, and turned it upside down, massaging the body in her hands to drain as much blood from the creature as possible, filling the beaker in a surprisingly short time. She placed the beaker on a stand, and sat cross legged in front of it on the ground, lighting a fel-flame in her hand and setting it under the beaker, where almost at once an acrid green mist began to rise from the contents. “Please work…please please work…”

The vapours rising from the beaker began to fill the room, and she felt light headed. Coughing loudly, she extinguished the flames, and looked down into the jar. “Empty…”
She punched the floor in frustration, crying out an array of curses in gnomish, before clutching her aching head. “I was so sure…so sure that this…this…”
She blinked, eyeing the beaker once more. Peering inside from above, she noticed a few little spheres of what looked like pure-black dew at the bottom of the beaker. “Hah!” She laughed, tipping the beaker upside down, holding it above her, until each tiny drop landed on her tongue, filling her body with renewed energy.

“Yes! HAH! It worked! It's a miserable amount but it worked! If…If I can automate this…fel it might just be possible to create a constant supply!”

She rushed to begin calculations again, filled with a new hunger, a renewed vitality.

“One imp yield's approximately 10 Millilitres of pure Felblood, therefore if I scale up by size, and approximate blood quantity, one felguard…could yield almost 100 times that amount! That's near as enough a glass full! And let's face it, I only have a couple of litres of blood in me, for a gnome that amount's gotta pack one fel of a kic- “

A loud banging echoed from the wooden door of the room, and a goblin's angry voice echoed through.

“The fel'ya doing in there Gnomey! Making a racket in there!”

“S-sorry sir!” Bailey exclaimed, hurriedly sweeping away the alchemy kit, stuffing it under the bed, along with the body of the imp. “Won't happen again!”

She started wafting the acrid smoke out of the window, thinking to herself.

“…I'm gonna need somewhere more private…”

[Miah]

4. Production

“…I think I'm almost there…Just a couple more things to check over then I can fire this thing up!”

She rubbed her oily hand's together in anticipation, and partly to keep herself warm, as she practically danced around the disturbing looking array she had assembled. She had ventured into the woods of Darkshire, on the basis that no-one in there right mind would venture into the place and disturb her. Her pocket watch rested against a jug, balanced precariously on a wooden stool, and she occasionally would turn to it, muttering a “mmhm…” Or a “Yeah, almost forgot that…” As she rushed about, tinkering with various elements of the device. It looked like a horrific, almost Gothic looking mix of dark magic and machinery, a large black archway, covered in small, bronzed mechanical arm's, needles poised at the end of each, shimmering eerily in the darkness. Each needle was linked by a rubber tube to a brass spout above the glass jug, and the whole array was suspended on a framework and supported by wire, seemingly thrown together in a hurry. Below this array was a summoning circle, burned out of the earth, which seemed to wither the grass around it for a good 20 feet in each direction.
She stepped back for a moment to admire her creation, looking in awe, but also disturbed by her own design. She threw off her robe, leaving her in a simple black leather shirt and pants, and kicked off her boot's, stepping onto the tainted ground around the construct. Cricking her fingers in turn, and her neck, she limbered up, as if preparing if she might need to run, before kneeling before the construct, pressing her palms into the blackened earth. She began a dark incantation, the word's sounding like she was spitting them from her mouth, as the air around the construct seemed to warp.
A silhouette appeared in the centre of the frame, clad in metallic red armour, muscles bulging from it's twisted form. The felguard blinked its tiny eyes, adjusting to the dim light of the moon as it observed the gnome kneeling before it. It smiled smugly, before a banishing spell struck it instantly in the exposed area of it's chest, and it felt itself unable to move, and only with effort able to keep it's beady eyes on the gnome before it. She had already risen, moved to the table, and had started pressing buttons on a small console suspended from a wire. With a hiss of hydraulics, each needled arm swung, striking the demon in any area it could find free of armour, and the demon growled ferociously, struggling against the spell cast on it. Bailey tried to blot out the sound from her mind, refusing to look as she pressed a second button, and a sound like a blocked vacuum ran out through the forest. The demon howled one last time, as a huge vat near it's feet filled with a deep green liquid. Bailey still refused to watch, keeping her eyes tightly shut as she pressed the last button, and with an earth-trembling thud, the demon's lifeless body fell to the ground, the needles retracting from it's body with a hiss.

“Exsanguination complete...”

She said, seemingly to no-one in particular, as she lit both the body of the felguard, and the small fire assembled under the vat of blood ablaze. The demon's body withered, and turned to ash within a minute, and by this time, the majority of the excess blood had evaporated, leaving a green mist over a large area of the forest.

Bailey, by this point, looked quite sick, as she pressed the final button, and with a slurping sound, the pure felblood was poured neatly into the waiting jug.

“...Ugh...its warm...”

She said, seemingly to her watch again, and with a pause, she looked reassured, as if by the inanimate object's non-response. She poured out a large cupful of the blood, swilling it around a little, before gulping it down. She took a deep breath, feeling the warm liquid pass to her throat, before coughing and spluttering from the acrid taste, spilling the rest of the contents onto the bare ground.

“No! Nonono! I can't...Need...Ugh..!”

Throwing herself to her now mud covered hands and knees, scrabbling her bare feet in the ground, she began licking the flecks of deep black blood from the earth, wincing in disgust but continuing in an animalistic fashion. Her breathing quickened as she did so, her fingernails and toes digging into the dirt as her whole form trembled. Her stomach turned, she felt like she might be sick with the pain as the horns on her forehead protruded further from her head, and she felt a shift from her shoulder-blades, and ever every inch of her skin.

Her breathing came in short gasps, with a rasping tone, and as suddenly as it had started it stopped, leaving her clinging to the earth, still lightly trembling. “F-fel....”, she whimpered lightly, looking down at her hands. Her nail's seemed...sharper somehow, almost like claws, with hints of fel-green at the end of each nail, though otherwise they seemed normal. She felt around her back, and practically screamed again, feeling the distinct form of tiny wing's protruding there, leathery and feeble. She focussed, and felt them flap, as easily as if they were a second pair of arms. As she began to come to terms with this startling revelation, she looked to the woods, and was horrified to see a pair of eyes looking back at her. She got to her feet, fearfully scrabbling to pick up scattered pieces of paper, evidence of her disturbing plan, as her machine began to fold its way back into a crate.

“S-stop right there, scum!”

The man dashed out from his hiding spot, scrabbling for his sword. He was dressed in the armour of the Darkshire night-watch, human, and couldn't have been more than eighteen years old, Bailey guessed by his frightened look, and the way he fumbled for his sword.

“....Bad time kid...Real...bad time kid...please...run...”

She felt a blood-lust that was not quite her own rise up in her chest, spreading along her body with a faint, fel green crackle of magical energy. “Go...Now...!”

The men trembled on his advance, staring into her eyes, which seemed to have the faintest tinge of green to them.

“Y-you were in violation of the law, and you will die for it, monste-..”

The boy had barely finished the sentence as Bailey had scrabbled through the long grass, her small height leaving her completely hidden, save for her faint, rasping breathing. “Come out now!” The man shouted, panic in his tone as he started turning this way and that as he tried to follow the sound of the breathing, the ruffle of the grass.
Yet a shooting pain filled him as needle like claw's were dug into the hamstring's of his leg's, and he collapsed to his knees. The last thing he felt was the same claw's raking across his throat, before he fell onto his side, observing Baileys mixed expression of horror, guilt, and something the man could not quite discern in his final moments, blood pooling onto the ground, reflecting the sight of the small woman's dash away from the scene.

[Miah]

5. Capture

It took Bailey over an hour to work up the courage to return to the body. She kept her eyes closed as she approached, inhaled sharply, startled, as she realized the young man was still alive.

“You could have use of him yet...” A voice in the back of her head whispered, and after a pause, she raised her hand, and put the man out of his misery, draining his soul into a perfect purple crystal. The tucked it away in a little pouch with two other shard's, sighing as she blasted a shallow grave out of the earth, and pushed the body into it with surprising ease.

“Poor bugger...eh...I told him to run...His own fault.”

Bailey blinked. Had she really said that? It felt like something about her was different, she would normally have been riddled with guilt, but this time it felt...routine...? She ruffled her hair, taking a deep breath, grunting frustratedly as she looked at her hand, ever so slightly illuminated in the darkness by the glow of her eyes. She took out a pocket mirror to examine herself in it as she kicked dirt over the grave absentmindedly Her eyes had the faintest glow, only really visible if she was trying hard to see it. Her skin, however, looked pale, slightly sunken, the same color of the faint moonlight now creeping through the trees. She noticed her clothing was torn and ragged in places, where she had run through brambles and thorns, tearing them, though leaving her quite unfazed. This confused her for a moment, and she picked a small knife off the ground, raising it to her forearm. She jabbed lightly, her skin feeling leathery the moment the blade touched. It took a great effort to draw blood, and just for a moment, a faint smile flickered over her face.

Her eyes flashed, as she threw her hat to the ground, looking to her reflected horns, now half a foot long and curling out of her forehead, black and bone grey, looking pristine and unscratched like ivory. She focused, and found to her delight, that magic's, that had once been difficult to her, seemed to come instinctively, without thinking or speaking an incantation, as if sheer will alone was enough. She grinned wider, before unleashing an inferno of green fire spiraling like some demonic bird, burning the surrounding trees and plant-life. And she began to laugh.

It took a few minutes to regain her senses. She looked around, pulling what was left of her scorched robes around herself. A circle, spanning almost 30 meters in all directions, was surrounding her, and the land was burned black, the soil turned to dust, the trees charred, most were no longer standing, some still smoked. She panted lightly, revelling in her new found power, though her joy was short lived, as she was heavily fatigued, and she heard angry shout's, the scream's women and children, the angry cries of guards. Before she had a chance to run, she heard the word “Halt, Heretic!” She felt something connect with the back of her head, and the world turned black.

[Miah]

6. Acceptance
“Is it awake yet?”

“It hasn't moved for a good few hours...maybe it's dead?”

“The thing is still breathing, though if I had my way I'd have put a stop to that before now...”

Bailey's head spun as she lay on the floor of the cell. She was keeping as deathly still as she could, having realized almost an hour ago that she had a magical ward placed upon her. She knew that she was safer while the guard's still presumed her to be unconscious. Her mind was racing, as she suppressed the urge to shiver from the cold floor of the cell. She couldn't use magic, and she couldn't physically overpower the guards, especially with her hands and feet bound with rope.

She inhaled deeply, and tried to relax, when a voice seemed to whisper around the room. “Quite the predicament little one...I see you accepted my offer...” Bailey blinked her eyes open to stare at the cold stone wall's, her eyes faintly glowing in the darkened cell. She recognized the tone, silky, laced with venom. She spoke aloud, in Eredun.

“You said my “thirst would be forever sated”...”

“And it shall be, but nothing good comes for free...what would you trade to have that ward removed...the lives of your innocent captor's perhaps...?”

Bailey went silent, trying to think, while altogether aware of the talking of the guard.

“What language is that? A curse!? Is she trying to curse us?”

“Not with that ward in place she isn't, though to be on the safe side, better silence it...”

Bailey squirmed against the ropes. Fear prickled at the back of her neck and she realized, this was some form of twisted test. If she did the honorable thing and refused, she would die. If she agreed, she would be given the chance to escape, at the cost of her morality, and the lives of the guards.

“...I...I...Yes, just get me outta here!”

“No” The voice said simply. “YOU will get you out of here.”

With the sound of a whip-crack and a plume of purple smoke, she felt the magical ward's dissipate, with the last word's echoing in the air in the demonic tongue. “Let your new instincts flourish...fel-sworn, but know you are forever bound to me...”

Bailey heard the gate to the cell swing open, crashing against the wall with an almighty echo. There was no time for thought, as fel-flame flickered at her fingertips, burning away at the ropes at her hand's and feet. She rose, fel-flame flickering around her skin, before it started to spread across the floor.

“...Ered'nash ban galar...Ered'nash havik yrthog...Ered'nash ban galar...Ered'nash havik yrthog...”

Her eye's flashed dangerously green at the guard's who seemed frozen to the spot, as a pair of small wing's, no bigger than her shoulder-blades, but fearsome looking with black, charred looking skin, unfurled from the burned remnants of her robes. With a demonic curse, that came without thinking about it, she began to drain the life out of the two men, leaving their withered corpses still writhing, though looking dramatically aged, as she stepped over them, and out down the corridor.

It was a strange sensation to her, as she walked down the corridor, scouring the tapestries on the wall with fel flame, sending men and women running. She felt aware that these action's were her own, but it was also like taking a back seat and watching them unfurl, as if she felt no moral obligation to stop herself. “Whatever that succubus did...I like it...”

“Light...that miniature witch is gonna burn this place to the ground!” A soldier yelled, holding his spear pointed with his fellow 9, towards the front gate, all watching smoke furl from the watchtower.

“She can't burn stone, and she will be dead before she can cast a spell when she come's out this way...” Said the captain of the guard in a confident, but serious tone.

They shuffled nervously, peering around at the few window's of the building, and at the wooden door, before with a sickening crunch, a body dropped from the top rampart's, it's twisted form splashing the soldiers with a mix of blood and dirt. The captain barely had time to shout a command, before they witnessed a silhouette dive off the rooftop, and plummet towards the ground, before unfurling a pair of flimsy wing's to slow her otherwise fatal decent. Before they had a chance to regroup, she had taken off into the forest.

[Miah]

7. Betrayal

Bailey paced through the forest, reliving the memories of the previous event's in her mind, as if they were the recollection's of some horrible drinking spree, only vague detail's and feeling's were recalled.

“One thing is for certain” She thaught to herself. “I am going to have to be more discreet...though to be frank, I diddn't WANT to hurt anybody, they just braught it upon themselves...by...by getting in the way and insisting that I'M the evil one! I diddnt put them in a cage!”

She recalled the warlock's den in stormwind, and the man who had been trapped in a cage. “...I diddn't put him there either...I mean, they guy just walked right int-...”

She stopped. She had reached the burned clearing, without even realising it. It seemed untouched, though she was not that surprised.

“...They knew the ground would be tainted...guess they see a lot of warlock's in darkshire...”

She paced forward, looking at the device she had created towering above her.

“...No...no now that's just what got us into this mess...”

She turned her back on the machine, though a prickle ran up her spine, and a trembling passed into her hands.

“F-f**k this...”

Bailey let out a dejected kind of sigh as she turned to the summoning circle. “Just something for the journey home...that's all...” She began to summon, but the moment she began to incantate, she was blasted backward's by a plume of purple smoke, the queen of suffering stepping forth from the device with a wicked grin.

“I was expecting you would come back, so I decided to wait around...hows my favourite little lackey doing...”

Bailey spat mud from her mouth, trying to pick herself up but slipping in the earth.

“Lackey? Who said Im your “Lackey?””

The demoness chuckled slyly. “You did of course, when you started doing my bidding...those guard's you killed had been warlock's allied with us for some time...you sen't them a little message that they won't get away with it...”



“Us”

“The legion, come now you can't be THAT stupid can you...?”

Bailey stared a little. “..Im not on any “Side” thanks. And im not your lackey.”

She had barely got the words out, before the demoness had dived for her, picking her up easilly by the throat, holding her in a vice-like grip.

“I wasn't giving you a choice my dear, my blood is precious, and it won't be wasted on a little rat like you without fair returns!”

Bailey's vision began to swim, as she struggled to breath. “Nngggh...ff...rre...”

The demoness raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me...?” She loosened her grip slightly, arching a thin eyebrow.

“I....said...Xar il romath da tidesbi!”

The demoness let out a furious screetch, as she was held in place by the banishing curse. “Rat! Don't think this won't go unpunishe-...!” But before she could finish, the machine had fired it's needle like arm's into her skin, and bailey watched at the console as the demon's form withered before her eyes, leaving the vat filled with a deep pool of blood, that eminated an aura of almost pure evil. Panting, Bailey kicked the corpse of the demoness.

“...They are gonna be pissed...They are gonna be seriously seriously pissed...”

She wrung her hands, beginning to panic, as she blasted the summoning portal away with a dark blast, to ensure that no more demon's would follow.

“I gotta get outta here now! Before they...they...”

Her eyes fell on the blood vat. And suddenly, escaping didn't seem to matter to her anymore. For that moment, nothing mattered. 

[Miah]

8. Surrender

Bailey stared intently at the vat of the demon's blood. It was filled to the brim, and was so dark, that not even the moonlight was reflected in it's surface. Bailey knew at once, that this was dangerous. This was more corrupting than any amount of felguard's she could ever summon all in one go. She knew it would be impossible to drink it all. And yet, she found herself diving headlong into the vat, lake a starving dog presented with food, and began to drink, barely coming to the surface to breathe.

The world turned green to her, as she drank, her ming going fuzzy, then blank, and all she knew was the intensity of the blood's effect on her. Her heart raced, as she finally surfaced her whole head from the pool of blood, her skin and hair drenched. She let out a few rasping gasps, digging clawed fingernail's into the wooden edges of the vat to support herself, as she felt the horns in her head painfully sprout further, and curl like those of a goat backwards. She felt her fingernail's sharpen to complete points, as if their edges were rezorblades, and her nail's looked like they were covered in a black nail varnish, though she knew it was a sign of taint, of poison.

From the instantanious rush her eyes had become alight with a fel green glow and her skin had turned deathly pale, and she could feel it contract slightly, making her look more sunken. She clutched at her hair, gripping, before throwing her head back in a other-worldly shriek, that echoed throughout the forest, and lost all rational thaught, blasting the vat away from herself with a blast of hellish flame. Without thaught, without moral or purpose, for the briefest of moments, she reveled in her new-found power, summoning up a fiery cone behind herself, and unfurling small, black wing's to skim lightly over the ground, weaving through the forest, and out of sight.

[Pesim]

(If this is where the feedback goes for this story. If not. Then apoligies before hand and I shall remove this post. But anyways.)

I really liked reading this, the way it progressed from the beginning to the end. Especially the last post was just great. I really like 'Transformation' things though. So it may be a personal thing on that matter. (About that! In the second paragraph, the first line. 'her ming going fuzzy.' Should maybe alter it to mind* ?) Other than that.

Thanks for offering such interesting literature to read!

[Miah]

Why thank you Sure, I assume that it can go here, but if there is some rule against it im sure we will find out. Loved writing this , and will make that correction.

[Pesim]

I'm just curious. But would it by any chance be possible to work something slightly alike to this RP out on the actual server, or on the forum? I'd love to read more of this subject, maybe even be allowed to get a character of my own involved to see how that works out. Haha.

By the way, if you're ever planning to write more of this. Please send me a message or something so I'll be on the lookout to read it! (Added you to friends if that's alright)

[Miah]

This is part of my actual server RP. This is what my character now is, its known as a prestige class, and I play her out as this now that I've finished. And if you were to apply to be a fel-sworn, you could make your own, once your a grunt that is