Purified. Corrupted.

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Morec0

Senior Member

08-22-2013

Ladies and gentlemen, Lucian has been released!

I've been waiting for this for some time. After reading Lucian's lore backstory I KNEW I had to write something for him, and so I set to work on another piece of fan fiction featuring him, Senna, and everyone's favorite twisted warden: Thresh. The story of their battle captured my imagination, and since in Lucian's biography it is very much left open WHERE and HOW the battle went down, I decided to accept the challenge of writing out my own impression of the conflict.

I really don't have much else to say about this. So sit back, relax, and enjoy another literary creation from one Summoner to another.

Morec0 Presents:

Purified. Corrupted.

Quote:
A flash of light in the shadows. A strike of righteousness against the wicked.

These were the callings cards of the Purifiers. These were the signs of the crusade. And nowhere else did their light shine brighter than in the blackest pit of darkness: the Shadow Isles themselves.

They had come here, Senna and Lucian, to bring light to the shadows. Purity to the corruption. They had faced such darkness and horror before, but always on their own terms. On the mainland of Valoran, they had hunted down their foes, the vile undead, one by one. Drawing them from hiding, trapping them, and then ending them. They were heroes; beacons of righteousness; protectors of the innocent from the things that lurked in the darkness.

But the Isles… The Isles and their shadows sought to cloak their light, to envelop their bravery and snuff it out like a candle in the mist. To that extent, they sent their full hordes against them. The ghouls and revenants of the isles, the reapers of souls, but even against these horrors the two Purifiers stood their ground.

Three ghouls fell as bolts of light from Senna’s weapon pierced their rotten hides. The light dissipated as it struck the creatures of shadow and death, but their work was done. At least for now. They may rise again, but they would be put back down. Five of the fiends attempted to waylay her at once, but three more died by her hand while the other two were taken care of by Lucian, who stood just paces away, holding off his own share of the creatures.

More of the undead rose from the earth around him, clawing at his legs with their faces twisted into hideous and horrifying expressions by their sheer nature. Lucian felt no fear as he looked at them, and he stamped them back into the dust with the sole of his boot and the light of his weapon. The undead were driven back into the earth and the shadows, and the Purifiers were given a reprieve. They wasted no time with rest, however, and ventured deeper into the awaiting darkness, their purpose at the forefront of their minds.

“These isles haven’t been mapped for centuries,” Lucian said, pulling out and taking another look at the map they had discovered. “There’s no telling if any of the paths and landmarks we’re looking for even exist still.”

“We’ll find our way,” Senna replied, smiling back at her lover. “We always do.” Her voice was both determined and comforting.

Lucian loved that about her. “We’re not even sure if what we’re looking for exists. Legends hold truth, but rumors can be built on lies.”

“And by following the rumors we found legends. Besides, if there is a great source of the undead like we heard, then we cannot simply stand by idle. We have a duty to uphold. If the undead can be stopped forever, then we must look into it.”

A way to stop the undead forever, some fount of their vile corruption that could be sealed up to stop the flow. “So,” Lucian said, with a smile, “we’re looking to dam some undead?”

Senna returned the smile and chuckled. “I suppose we are.”

“It still doesn’t sit well with me. Everything we came across, it seems convenient. And with those creatures in the League, I’m not sure who or what we can trust.”

This she didn’t attempt to argue much. She remembered the Kalamanda incident all too well; even so, the League was not her or his concern. “The Summoners keep close watch on the undead and other monsters that fight for them,” she said. “They keep them chained up, or at least from causing trouble.” Even so, she too was displeased with the Summoners’ protection of those monsters. What she would do to be able to walk into the Institute and end them all there and then.

“But you aren’t worried this might be…” Whispered echoed around them, and he couldn’t shake that. Reprieve or combat, they were always being watched, always being planned around. He could feel it in his soul. “… A trap?”

“We set traps, Lucian,” Senna reminded him, noting the whispers as well and holding her weapon with a firmer grip. “We don’t fall into them. And if we do, we break free and crush whoever tried to trap us.”

Confidence. Another thing that Lucian loved his wife for; her sheer, unrelenting confidence. The pair continued on, side by side.

The Isles would fix that.

Without a whisper or warning, the undead were upon them again. Their eyes were aglow with unholy magic, and their fangs dripped putrid, rotted slime. They encircled them, surrounded them, cutting off any chance of escape for the two.

But no Purifier needed to escape this.

Their weapons glowed with light as they held their ground. Bright bolts of energy flew, colliding with and ending the undead around them. The rest charged in, clawed hands reaching out towards their foes. More shots ended many of them, but there were too many to continue to fight from this position.

Senna ran towards Lucian, the two grasped each other’s forearm and spun, building up momentum. Lucian threw her over the ghouls; Senna landed on the other side of the waves and immediately opened fire to draw their attention. Her efforts had minimal success, but that were not what they had been relying on.

Lucian could take care of himself, and proved that as one of the ghouls drew too close. He spun his weapon around into a reverse grip and brought it down on the skull of the undead with all due force. The result of this was a blinding flash of light that halted the advance of the rest of the waves and caused the undead who had been at the center of it to dissipate into a pile of ectoplasmic flesh.

Lucian then ran shoulder first into the wave of stunned zombies, knocking them out of his path as he muscled through them towards the other side. Senna provided support by picking off the ghouls she could on the outer layers, and the both of their efforts succeeded in freeing them from an otherwise unfavorable positioning. Indifferent of their footing, though, the ghouls turned and charged in mindless, bloodthirsty-rage. The duo picked them off in droves as they came, and as their numbers dwindled down into the last handfuls it was the Purifiers who went on the offensive. Or, to be more specific; Senna did.

She charged into the midst of the last remaining undead, bringing their deaths to them. Bolts flew, dissipating many, but there were still more to be had. Senna sliced at the throat of one with her weapon, the magic stone cutting through its fleshy rotten neck and severing its head from its body. As that ghoul collapsed she turned to another and jabbed her weapon into its chest. Skin and bone melted away under the light magic, leaving the undead creature a monster in pain as it collapsed to the ground. Senna ended it by stomping its head into mulch. The remaining ghouls were dealt away with equal swiftness.

The Purifiers were triumphant, but just as they were about to sheath their weapons the wind shifted. Literally. The ocean wind that had been at their backs vanished, pushed back and away from a stronger wind coming from the depths of the Isles. This wind was colder than even the ocean breeze, and just as lifeless as the soil around them. And it carried with it a sound, a sound that started out small, almost mute, but quickly rose to overpower even the noise of the gale.

It was a laugh; a loud, echoing, dark, maddened laugh.

Then a single ghoul approached.

A single specter of the Isles drew near.

But this one was different than the others. The others had been creatures of flesh and bone, held together by dark spiritual magics. This one was all spirit. Glowing a vile green, his long coat dragging across the ground but having no weight of its own, the chains wrapped around his body and held within his hands clinking and clanking with each step. A scythe hung at one end, and at the other was a lantern.

The specter came to a halt ten meters away from Lucian and Senna. It spoke a single word. “Purifiers.” The brief acknowledgement was laced with malice and contempt, dark and dripping with as much bile as one word could be. The undead’s mouth did not move, but it seemed to be… grinning at them. A taunting expression that at the same time was horrifying.

Senna and Lucian fired. The bolts flew through the air, dead-on course towards the creature’s black skull. Seconds away from impact, though, the chains moved of their own will. They rose, defending their bearer, and taking the bolts. They were broken by the impact, but the bolts were dissipated. The shattered chains drew back; vanishing into the dark of the undead’s coat and being replaced by chains which were whole.

The creature spoke again, a longer more complete sentence this time. “Your kind is not welcome here.”

“Purifiers go where they please, monster,” Senna yelled back. “And where we go the darkness falls back. You will not turn us away.” She was often taunted into conversation with the creatures, but Lucian had a particularly abysmal feeling about this one. Confidence and precedent led him to ignore it, however.

The specter laughed, a mad and menacing laugh. “Foolish little girl. You are mere living creature, mere beating hearts and flowing veins, to us. You also are misled; we do not want you to leave.” He ran a delicate hand across the lantern, which seemed to float of its own accord as he did.

Senna was not intimidated. “We have ended your kind before, undead, and we will do so here no matter what! You will not stand in our way, and you most certainly will not stop us.”

Thresh chuckled as simple “ah-hah.” Then said the undead, “we shall see.”

The battle began with a hail of bolts from the Purifiers. The energy flew through the air, but failed to make contact. The ghastly creature’s chains shot out from around him, seemingly of their own accord, and wrapped themselves around the nearby landscape. They then tightened and pulled, drawing the undead away from the bolts. Lucian and Senna change the path of their attack, but the chains simply moved him out of the way again.

“Do you really think it is that simple?” The specter taunted them as he dodged away from their attacks time and time again. “Killing us never stops us for long, and it certainly cannot destroy us forever. Our souls are immortal and indestructible, tied to these Isles. No matter what you do, what you try to exorcise us from your world, we can always return.”

Lucian stopped his barrage, but kept his weapon trained on the chain-wielding ghost. The stone of his weapon began to glow with bright light, intensifying the longer Lucian held it back. He released it after half a minute, sending out a powerful orb of light that, though it missed their foe, exploded in a flash of bright energy. The undead brought the lantern to float in front of him. As the light flooded towards him a barrier of ghastly green energy formed and the light watched over it without bringing harm to him.

However, Senna followed up Lucian’s attack with a similar one – charged for less time but quicker to reach its target. The light of the attack struck him directly in the chest and seared the specter’s ghostly form, dissipating it for a few seconds. But the creature recovered quickly, and with his full resurgence came another of his soul-chilling laughs.

“Do you ever think about the dead you fight, Purifiers? Do you ever think about who they may be? We are more than just souls of these Isles, we are the souls of your mainland.” Senna glowered at the ghost as she continued to fire, her teeth bared in a very slight snarl. The light of his lantern kept him from harm once more, however. “Do you perhaps wonder who it may be that you are slaying when you kill these ghouls? What they may think about you killing them when they have already suffered and died?”

As if he had commanded it, a trio of rotting corpses pulled themselves from the ground, and lunged towards them – though they seemed to have their gaze affixed upon Senna. And she locked eyes with them, a frightening chill creeping up her spine. They were dispatched with ease, but the specter chuckled when they fell.

“Would you like to know who they were?” His question was posed with his blackened skull turned towards Senna.

“Shut up!” Senna yelled, increasing the rate at which her weapon fired.

Still the creature dodged, and even when he was struck he did not seem to take any significant damage. “Galvin Marterie, a father of three newborns, sole protector of his family; dead as collateral damage of hunters pursuing their prey.”

Finally Senna and her husband got some significant hits on him, forcing him out of his assisted-flight and onto the ground. They tried to take advantage of his weakened state, but the chains and lantern once more protected him. They cocooned themselves around him with metal and magic, taking the pain and damage for their bearer once again. “Freddrick Rediech, retired soldier, loyal husband; murdered in the night by a man who wanted his wife.”

The chains flew outward towards the Purifiers, striking them when they were not broken beforehand. Their cold, unholy metal burned, forcing Senna and Lucian to fall back a few feet and temporarily ceasing the conflict. The chains also retreated to their bearer’s side, who once again stood tall and proud. “Senna Knightly, mother of one; assaulted, raped, and murdered while trying to find her runaway daughter.” He stared directly at the Purifier who shared the name of her mother.

Senna screamed in absolute rage and unleashed her fury in a stream of light bolts that the specter knocked aside with his scythe. At first, anyway, after a while even his death-enhanced reflexes gave way to the assault and the bolts tore through his body. Roaring in agony he threw his weapon forward, towards Senna. The blade cut through her arm, forcing her to lower his weapon for a second. She dodged the hook as it came backwards to try and grab her, though, and resumed the barrage as the weapon was pulled back to its wielder.

The specter sank to his knees, dropping his scythe though the lantern continued to float of its own accord, body riddled with smoking holes caused by the light. Senna’s hands trembled with rage and she began to approach the weakened undead. But Lucian stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “Senna, he’s beaten, let’s leave him and keep moving,” he said. His unease had finally reached a peak watching his beloved fly into a rage. He did not know what the chain-wielding undead was trying to do, but his gut feeling told him they needed to leave.

“It’s funny,” the specter chuckled. “You killed her once, and now you can do so over and over again. Now you will do so over and over again. Such a delightful thought…”

Senna turned on the undead again with a full snarl plastered on her face, her weapon glowing as bright as the hate in her eyes. She pulled away from Lucian’s hand and strode towards the ghost, ignoring her husband’s cries for her to come back.

The specter sat, its ever-grinning face seeming affixed on her as she approached. When she was but a few paces away the lantern floated to in front of him, with his left hand he unhooked it and let it fall to the ground. It slammed against the earth with the weight of something more than a hundred-times its own size, and five curved pillars arose from the earth in a pentagon formation.

Finally Senna was given pause as confusion, followed immediately by fear, washed over her. It was a trap. She turned and ran back towards Lucian, who also ran towards her. As the two were about to reach each other, though, the lantern flashed bright with its unholy green glow and the spaces between the pillars were filled with walls of ghastly green energy.

The Purifiers hit the wall that separated them, seeing each other just fine but unable to touch or aid one another. Lucian slammed his weapon into the wall again and again, trying to break through, but the magic refused to give way.

The specter’s laughed echoed, and Senna slowly looked back over her shoulder. The ghost was standing, and all of the chains it carried, broken or whole, were brought to bear, floating weightless around him. Senna looked back at her husband, mouth quivering as she tried to say something. But she was unable to overcome her fear enough to speak before the chains lashed out, wrapped themselves around her, and pulled her back towards the specter, scythe held ready in hand.

Lucian could only watch as his beloved was maimed by the chains. Cut, choked, pierced, bones broken, skin peeled back. He wanted to look away, he did not want to watch what was happening to his dear Senna. But he was paralyzed, frozen in place from fear and pain; forced to watch as his wife was tortured relentlessly while he had to stand by unable to interfere. Unable to save her. And just as tortured as she was because of it.

Minutes passed, what felt like hours to the poor Purifier being forced helplessly look on, before the specter finally relented. His chains withdrew back to the dark folds of his coat, and Senna’s near-lifeless body fell towards the ground, saved from hitting it only by the ghost as it caught her by her chin. He lifted her up, gazing into her bleeding, milky, half-open eyes. For once, the undead seemed somber.

It spoke: “So delicate. Life.” The ghost lifted the lantern, holding it before Senna’s face. “Look deep.”

Senna’s gaze flickered before the lantern as she weakly stared into its vile, churning glow. It was… hypnotizing. Mesmerizing. She felt… light. Weightless. Free. She felt at peace. That feeling ended as she felt the most intense pain she had ever felt in her entire life. A pain both physical and of the soul. She cried out, but no sound came from her. No voice to express her suffering.

Lucian watched as glowing energy flowed from his lover’s eyes and into the lantern. Something about Senna changed when the last of the light was inside the undead’s lamp. She seemed… gone. Void and empty of… anything.

The specter’s head rolled back and it sighed deeply, laughing like a madman afterwards as he looked back towards Lucian. His depraved gaze was taunting, mocking; salt in the wound.

The Purifier roared in a pain-fueled rage and brought his full weight against the wall that separated him from the other two. Nothing happened, but he continued. Again and again he battered his body against the wall, until finally it cracked, and with another blow he broke through, crashing to the ground.

Lucian scrambled to his feet, charging towards the specter and roaring in fury. As he came close, though, the ghost whipped his chain and scythe forward, striking Lucian and sending him to the ground. The blade left a large, bleeding gash on Lucian’s chest, festering already from the vile evil and disease the Isles carried on its lifeless winds.

“Not yet,” the specter whispered. “You are not ready yet. You have much left to gain, so much more to growing to do before you are ripe.” The darkness of the Isles began to consume him, causing him to vanish without even taking a step in any direction to hide.

“I will come for you one day, Purifier, and I will reunite you with her. But not now, not yet.”

His laughter started low, deep in his ghostly throat, growing louder the more he vanished. When finally he disappeared fully into the shadows his laugh was left echoing loud and strong, staying for several seconds until it slowly quieted into silence.

Lucian was on his back for many minutes before he finally found the strength to move. He managed to bring himself to his knees and then crawl towards Senna’s body. He held it in his arms, held her close to his heart, and sobbed. His salty tears fell onto her ever-cooling face, and rolled down it to the dead dirt below.

He sat there for some time, pouring out all of his sorrow. But the more his sadness left him, the more another emotion filled him in its place.

Anger. Hatred. Rage. The kind of which he had never felt before.

His face, now twisted into a monstrous snarl, looked down at the ground. Lying on the dirt was Senna’s weapon. Cradling his lover with his other arm, he reached down and picked up her weapon with his left. He looked at the ‘S’ engraved on it. Senna.

Tightening his grip on it, he picked his wife up and carried her off back towards where they had made land. He knew what he was going to do. He was going to find the monster that had done this, who had taken the love of his life from him, and he would kill him. Wherever he had to go, he would track down who or whatever that thing had been…

“Thresh...”

A voice whispered on the wind. It gave Lucian no pause, though. He did not care where it had come from, whether it had been living or dead, but he knew what it meant and he was grateful for it.

Thresh.

The name of the specter who had taken his wife, his better half, was now known to him. He would find Thresh, he would find him and he would make him pay. He would hunt him down to the ends of the earth and beyond, and he would kill him.

Twice, if he had to.


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Morec0

Senior Member

08-24-2013

A bump to the top.

I understand it's long, but give it a read anyway!


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Raasu

Senior Member

08-27-2013

***SPOILERS***



Very well written, clear description of emotions and actions, excellent use of metaphors and similes, interesting dialogue, and good action. My favorite simile out of the whole piece was probably "like a candle in the mist." As well as being another good example of the contrast in your story, it very accurately describes the fact that they were being slowly overcome instead of suddenly overwhelmed and defeated.

There are two spelling errors that I am aware of which I will bold within their sentences below. I will also bold things within other sentences that I personally feel could be changed to improve readability.

----------

The result of his was a blinding flash of light that halted the advance of the rest of the waves and caused the undead who had been at the center of it to dissipate into a pile of ectoplasmic flesh.

Lucian felt no fear as he look at them, and he stamped them back into the dust with the sole of his boot and the light of his weapon.

These are the only spelling errors I saw.

The duo picked them off in droves as they came, and as their numbers dwindled down into the last handfuls it was the Purifiers which went on the offensive; or, to be more specific; Senna did.

Here I think you should substitute 'which' with 'who' since the Purifiers in and of themselves are not one entity (which went) but instead are two individuals (who went).

Bolts flew, dissipating many, but there were still more to be had.

Though I think this is purely a matter of preference, I feel as though you could replace the word "had" with the phrase "dealt with" or replace the phrase "be had" with the word "overcome".

----------

In closing, thank you very much sir or madam for the phenomenal read and I hope others take the time to view this veritable masterpiece.

P.S. I do some writing myself and I'm currently writing a fan-fiction that I intend to be a long story possibly encompassing over one-hundred pages. Needless to say I would love for another writer to take a look at a sample draft and give me some opinions.

P.P.S. How did you go about coming up with the misc. names? E.G. Galvin Marterie, Freddrick Rediech. I seem to take vast amounts of time coming up with names of any sort.


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Morec0

Senior Member

08-28-2013

Quote:
Originally Posted by Raasu View Post
***SPOILERS***



Very well written, clear description of emotions and actions, excellent use of metaphors and similes, interesting dialogue, and good action. My favorite simile out of the whole piece was probably "like a candle in the mist." As well as being another good example of the contrast in your story, it very accurately describes the fact that they were being slowly overcome instead of suddenly overwhelmed and defeated.

There are two spelling errors that I am aware of which I will bold within their sentences below. I will also bold things within other sentences that I personally feel could be changed to improve readability.

----------

The result of his was a blinding flash of light that halted the advance of the rest of the waves and caused the undead who had been at the center of it to dissipate into a pile of ectoplasmic flesh.

Lucian felt no fear as he look at them, and he stamped them back into the dust with the sole of his boot and the light of his weapon.

These are the only spelling errors I saw.

The duo picked them off in droves as they came, and as their numbers dwindled down into the last handfuls it was the Purifiers which went on the offensive; or, to be more specific; Senna did.

Here I think you should substitute 'which' with 'who' since the Purifiers in and of themselves are not one entity (which went) but instead are two individuals (who went).

Bolts flew, dissipating many, but there were still more to be had.

Though I think this is purely a matter of preference, I feel as though you could replace the word "had" with the phrase "dealt with" or replace the phrase "be had" with the word "overcome".

----------

In closing, thank you very much sir or madam for the phenomenal read and I hope others take the time to view this veritable masterpiece.

P.S. I do some writing myself and I'm currently writing a fan-fiction that I intend to be a long story possibly encompassing over one-hundred pages. Needless to say I would love for another writer to take a look at a sample draft and give me some opinions.

P.P.S. How did you go about coming up with the misc. names? E.G. Galvin Marterie, Freddrick Rediech. I seem to take vast amounts of time coming up with names of any sort.
Only three mistakes? That's a new record for me!

I'll look out for your stories when I have a little more time to read over them. As for the names: I just have a knack for coming up with names. For me, it's a simple matter of looking at a page of something and grabbing a handful of letters one at a time to string together for the game. It can take a few tries, especially if you want a name for a VERY specific kind of character, but it's usually a rather effective method of naming at least background characters.

Glad you enjoyed the story, and thanks for the feedback.


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Morec0

Senior Member

09-10-2013

Lucian is free to play for the first time, in honor of this I bump a post.


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Eph289

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Senior Member

09-10-2013

Well-written. I liked your action scenes and the suspense you built up.

As a small correction, I do believe you mean "damn some undead" and not "dam them," as that would be quite . . . unusual.


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Morec0

Senior Member

09-12-2013

Quote:
Originally Posted by Eph289 View Post
As a small correction, I do believe you mean "damn some undead" and not "dam them," as that would be quite . . . unusual.
No, it's a humerous play on words; "damn" as is... well, damn, and dam as into dam something up (like a river). The joke is they are going to "dam" the source of the damned.