Role

Chapter 8

Did I get that right, Herbs?

aking the very ground. The tower is light up from all
sides but swallows light like a gaping pit. Shadows dance among the walls as
your vision is drawn to higher window. Dark souls dance around the room in
the candlelight and there is a bed of some sort in the middle of the room.
Spread out on the black sheets is the swollen figure of the Dark night woman.
Her eyes are rolling back in her head and dark incantations are being
whispered from the shadows. As the birth progresses she fights wailing in
anguish while the dark ones around her attempt to aid the breaching.
Lightening crashes again but this time the oak door to the room explodes off
its hinges. A seared and bloody man breeches the frame, bellowing a war cry
that shakes the very walls. "IT MUST BE DESTORYED" You see the sire of
this wicked babe was being held still for torture in the lower chambers of
the tower. While the dark powers were focused on the birthing ritual they did
not pay attention to their captive and with his determination to end this
foul offspring he broke free of his cell and made his way to end this
madness. A shriek of terror fills the room as demons and dark fiends pour
from the very shadows converging on the villager. The battle rages as he
sends foe upon foe back to the depths and inches closer to the bed. As he
reaches the foot of the bed the howls of the dark-ones is shattered by a
single cry of a new born. Everything is silent and a glow seems to pierce
from the center of the bed. Dark fiends shield there eyes the villager cries
out in anguish, none seem to notice the blood rolling off the bed upon the
floor in the chaos. A second cry brings clarity a dark fiend seizes up the
blood soaked white ball of flesh and like a wave a horde of demons pours
through the door and engulfs the villager. The room reeks of death, the
villager is put down in the drowning wave of darkness and his blood is
matched by the mother of the white born. She has passed in the birth and the
demons and dark fiends start to fade one at a time. There souls now returning
to the depths after the anti-paladins bindings are broken. Dark whispers
crest the air

"What do we do with the mage born?"
"What do we do with the white born ?"
"What do we do with the undoing?"

A slow answer returns snickering from and unknown source
The shadows hiss in response and the newborn is taken wrapped in the blood
soaked sheets out of the room.