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"Ja'quar!"

The yell cut croakily through the air, shredding the thrill Ja'quar felt from his newest creation. He stood up, looked around and saw the body of Azriel a couple of yards away. The man needed help and being one of his companions he was obliged to provide him that, even if he was just a raging lunatic.

As Ja'quar approached the fallen man, he saw that he was in bad shape. it only took one brief glance of his face to see the scaly lips and dry skin. "What happened with you?" Ja'quar asked, "Never mind, we first need to patch you up."

He mentally instructed his new pet to open the nearest door. As he heard a crash he remembered that deep inside the minion still was a fallen; to him 'open' was pretty much the same as 'break down'. In any case it would be safe there.

"Come on, let's get you inside. There's bound to be water there." said Ja'quar as he helped Azriel get up. But as he touched the man, he felt a curious sensation in his body. All the blood seemed to start to flow towards the point where they touched, which ironically were the wounds he had acquired in the duel.

Trying to uplift the man's spirits Ja'quar said, "You're like a walking dowsing rod." He then made way towards the house where his minion was gathering all the water he could find.

Ja'quar found another troop walking down the street searching for survivors. They spotted him, and off they went. As he turned around to run, he heard an odd sound. it was a sort of roar and when he looked around he saw a fireball flying straight towards him. He dropped down and felt the flames licking his back, and was relieved that he had evaded sudden injury.

He got up to look at his assailant. The charging fallen had separated and stood still on the sides of the road. On the other end of the walkway there was a fallen leaning on a stick; a shaman. The demon looked a bit older and a lot wiser than the rest of his kin, and he enjoyed their respect.

Ja'quar wanted to walk away, but whenever he would put a step back the shaman held his staff forward and fire started to form at its tip, ready to explode in his direction. He was trapped, but still the simple imps did not advance into his direction. Only the shaman got closer and drew his blade. He pointed with it towards Ja'quar sheath, commanding him to do the same. Ja'quar obliged.

The shaman dropped his staff and snarled some orders to the simpletons, who promptly formed a ring around the two mages. It was at that moment that it dawned to Ja'quar what was happening; "A duel...", he said and couldn't help but smile. The shaman snickered with him.

Suddenly the little upstart charged; now it was serious! The fallen had caught the trapper by surprise and left a nasty gash in his left arm. They ended with their backs towards each other, but the swampdweller was the first one to take advantage of the situation by creating a nasty wound across the elder's back.

The shaman turned around and they looked each other in the eye. Ja'quar saw the proverbial fire building up in his nemesis' eyes, one that seemed to have died out ages ago. The red-skinned demon charged once more, but this time Ja'quar was less surprised. He acted as if he was, resulting in a second gash to accompany his first one, but this time he turned around more swiftly and planted his dagger deep in the shaman's shoulder.

The fallen screamed of agony, rage and delight as his blade fell from his grip. Ja'quar kicked it away and looked into the fallen's eyes, trying to discern his train of thought. He didn't know what went on in that head of his, but it didn't matter anyway. Ja'quar proceded with killing the shaman and looked around. The other fallen had dissapeared, their morale broken when they saw their leader die.

He laid the demon down, and then said, "Your talents are too good to be wasted. You will be my special servant." He went into the trance he knew so well and searched for that illusive veil. He found it, but this time, it was different. Another power besides life and death raged around this one, and that one was the power of magic. Ja'quar tried to harness this power, trying to not let any of it go to waste. He couldn't for it somehow had a natural affinity with the shaman. It did seem to aid Ja'quar's reviving procedure, removing some of the stress it caused to the necromancer. The magic continued to interfere with his work, until it seemed to do everything on its own.

As Ja'quar finished the rite he was astonished with his creation. The magical reserves the shaman had tapped in to in his lifetime were also the reserves he tapped in to in his death. The result was a zombie more akin to the real deal than anything he had ever created before, whilst costing no energy at all.

"You are special," Ja'quar said to the shaman, "and you are mine."

By the way, I apologize for the horrendous typo in my post. I often forget to reread what I type.

Quote from "Jeru5" »

Loved the way you revived the bodies and let them lie there making an excellent trap for teh enemy

I had that idea going on in my head for quite some time. Now, thanks to this really, really cool setting/playground (thanks Zhar) I had the time to do it.

Happy new year everybody! May the carnage be our fireworks

As they reached the desolate outskirts of Olenta, Ja'quar could only think of one thing, "Blergh, now I have to enter the city once again and fight there. Stay calm, don't get to ballsy."

The doors were opened and in front of them was a sea of bodies. Human remnants with horror-struck faces huddled in piles. An exquisite banquet for the fallen, or a playground for a necromancer. As soon as fallen charged the group entering the city, Ja'quar dashed away from the brawl. He had to find the poor man's district. The tight alleyways would be perfect for ambushes.

At last he found one that suited his taste; with bodies aplenty it would be almost too easy. He reanimated as many as possible, but ordered them to keep lying still all across the alley. Ja'quar then went out to find danger. He would be the bait, and the dead would be the trap. Once again, a sly smile of irony enveloped his lips.

The fallen he found did not need much encouragement. They snarled and raged as each of them wanted the honour of eviscerating the still living human. They ran through the streets of Olenta, not knowing the danger that laid ahead. The human stopped, perhaps he knew it was futile, but suddenly the bodies around them started to move. Limbs stirred and heads twisted. Hands grabbed arms and mouths gnawed on ankles. This man had trapped them! They were fighting for their lives, but now it was them who realized it was futile. The last vision they had was that of a small human, watching them cold eyed and smiling.

Turmobil, the bestest of luck!

Jeru, it must have been cosy with candlelight around Christmas time. Happy catching up!

Even though it was a moment of respite, their target of Olenta was still ahead. Fallen aren't the most intimidating of demons, yet Ja'quar was uneasy with the idea of attacking an encampment full of these creatures. He walked towards Dagon to express his concern, "Dear leader. You know, I'm not entirely sure about this brunt attack. Well, not for me that is. I think I can help you more when..."

Suddenly there was a yell from the time witch. Ja'quar looked around and pondered her cry, "Evil? Here? Odd beasts indeed."

He then turned back towards Dagon and hastily finnished his sentence, "...when I trap the ones fleeing the scene. Just send a small party to the forests between Olenta and Melayu, it'll be fun."

Then the so-called angel seemed in pain. He screamed and his hands bled. "This seems serious," Ja'quar said to no one in particular.

"Anyway Dagon, what say ye?"

Ja'quar sat in the cart and looked at his hand. The healer had done a nice job patching his hand, it was as useful as it had ever been. They went to Olenta, he and his new companions, where they would assault a fallen camp. It was an odd thing for him, but he would get paid so that didn't matter. Also, darkness was his ally, as it had been for a long time.

The sky somehow seemed disturbed. Ja'quar stood up and looked in front of their path: the storm was malevolent. A flash of lightning bolted down and the clap that followed made him feel rather uneasy.

A man's voice bellowed, but Seddrik and Dagon did not seem alarmed. Instead, they willingly walked towards its source: a shadowy figure on top of a hill. Even though this had to be a trap, the two brave men did not budge from their course. Either that, or they were entranced. Or just plain nuts.

The man began to tell a tale of being the son of an angel. Also, he was trapped and wanted revenge. Well, whatever it was, this man seemed both extremely dangerous and ridiculously weak. Ja'quar assumed the first, for underestimating anything is the same as inviting death into your home. He had forgotten that when he stormed out of the bar earlier today.

The man was greeted by everyone and not to be left behind Ja'quar said, "Greetings stranger. Your strength seems formidable and your goal brave. I'm Ja'quar." Once again, making every statement a bit more flattering seemed all too easy.

Woohoo, chapter 2!

Yeah, christmas will indeed be slow, but I'll post a small one now.
Sunday I'll post a bigger one, if there is enough material for me to do so.

Edit: Ok, that post I made today was a bit longer than I had expected.

It was an onslaught. As soon as Ja'quar had stepped outside of the tavern the cacophony of war intensified to a height he had never heard. Everywhere he went he heard the sound of swords slashing, axes cleaving and a thousand cries from both human and beast. The silence of the trees was nowhere to be seen.

Yet, he did not feel unsettled. He was the master of an army, the same type of army that had invaded the city mere moments ago, an army of fallen. Of course, they couldn't match in size but these undead versions were much more resistant to death than their human counterparts. Well, if he could sustain them that is. The energy it consumed was constricting and the only thing he could do was stand in the centre of a ring of undeath, maintaining his concentration to keep his minions fighting fit.

He then heard Drangar yell, "SHIT!!!!! HELP HELP!!!", but he didn't know where it came from. He steadily looked around, maintaining his trance, and when he saw him, he saw Dagon standing there with him with a bloody mess at his feet.

Getting back up after what must have been a pretty hefty fit of rage, Dagon rallied everybody near each other. Ja'quar spread his hands to convey the message to his minions. Even walking was intense with the dozen or so fallen under his command so he slowly made his return to the group.

While walking his hand suddenly felt the piercing sensation of an arrow. The pain that emanated from it shattered his concentration and in a blink of an eye his defences were gone. "NO!" he yelled angrily, "WHY? I'M USELESS NOW!"

He knew the others barely trusted him, but they were his only hope. "HELP," he screamed while the fallen advanced, "I'M TRAPPED!"

As the battle raged on, Ja'quar fenced with all his might to keep the onslaught of fallen at bay. His minion did its part as well, but the battle seemed to be taking its toll. Flabs of flash were abundant as the little demons clawed and slashed their way into the undead body. Ja'quar felt that it drained more and more of his energy to keep the body walking and soon it was reduced to nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones.

Ja'quar looked around for bodies that could be animated, but most of them were disembowelled beyond recognition. The entire floor was red with blood as more and more fallen met their death in this little room. In his disparate search for possible meat shields he didn't see the fallen leaping at his face. With horror Ja'quar saw the fallen flying towards him with his axe held high.

But then the most peculiar sensation came over him. The fallen's progress seemed to slow down mid-flight and as he looked around, he saw all other fallen experience the same thing. Seeing the opportunity he stabbed the fallen in the heart, but being frozen in time the beast neither died nor lived. Slowly time seemed to resume himself and the body slumped to the floor.

He then sheathed his blade to concentrate on the summoning. His mind emptied and he felt that more than familiar connection with death. He raised the fallen and promptly the little rascal ran outside, into the fray slaying as many of his former kin as he could.

"I don't know who has control over time, but I like it!" Ja'quar said to no-one in particular. He then proceeded to walk outside and form his own fallen army.

I tried to connect Jeru's and scyber's tale of 'entrance closed' with PF's version of 'door open and guns a-blazing'. Sorry to stop the action this way, but anybody who wants to can make the fallen break down the door and trample the patron's body underfoot.

The zombie patron stood in the centre of a ring of fallen. His body was full of gashes and little flaps of flesh hang loosely from his arm, yet still he didn't give up. He continued to swing his arms arms around, bashing fallen skull and mashing their brains to a pulp. "He seems to be enjoying himself." Ja'quar said as he stood behind the counter stabbing the occasional fallen that dared to jump across the built-in barricade.

Slowly the fallen flood was pushed towards the door. Ja'quar vaulted over the barricade and rushed forward. As soon as no fallen was inside, he smashed himself against the door separating the horde from the survivors. "There, some rest," He said as he locked the door shut.

He hadn't shut the door for a few seconds or Ja'quar heard someone banging on the door, "Let us in!"

"Wait, isn't that...?" Before he could finish there was another voice and the door seemed to unlock on his own. Ja'quar moved to close the door but before he could move a muscle someone rushed through it. As soon as no one seemed to enter he closed the door. He grabbed the zombified patron by his sleeve and dragged him towards the door, effectively using him as a doorstop.

Then there came a horrible sound; with fervour the fallen tried to tear down the door. "He'll hold on for quite a while," Ja'quar informed the group, "Now what will we do next?"

He then sat on the floor, looked up and chuckled, "Once the trapper, now the trapped. Oh Trag'Oul, why are you so cruel?"

Well, I've got it the other way around. Somehow I'm able to express myself more fruitfully in English than in Dutch. Except the punctuation part of grammar is annoying. Being Dutch, I tend to use waaaay to many comma's.

Also, is the tavern door open or closed? I'm confused :S.

Well, your writing is actually an incentive for me to perform as well as I do. It's a team effort, really ;). Still, compliments are ego boosters, so thank you for those.