Birth of the Sons of Death

Empuso:

   All the traps were prepared. It has been tiring work. Finding every hidden dusty obstacle and setting the ancients gears to turn once again. Occasionally he would have to dodge the few traps that did work after all these centuries.

  The new gifts didn't help. The slaves were a novelty when he first summoned them, but they have proven themselves to be frail and too mindless to work the machines; let alone find them.

  The former Baron’s clothes stunk from the ruins, and dust clung to his red hair and goatee. He was indeed worse shape than when the entity had first approached him. But he was happy. Happy for the dungeon was nearly complete, and would soon attract thrill seekers and grave robbers of all shapes and colors. And they will end his loneliness. And with his new powers he could protect them, like he couldn't protect her. And they could be great together. Perhaps even great enough to redeem his proper seat in the Order. Maybe even great enough to save her! The thought was madness but how he reviled in the Insanity!

   Yes, Empuso was happy, but he was hungry. It’s been so long since he tasted blood.

Celeborn, Tantulus, & Chuang Tzu:

  You cause one Gnome Genocide and suddenly everyone wants your head.
 
   This was the only thought going through Celeborn’s head as he strolled down the ornate hallway, his silvery hair flowing behind him and above his sleek black cape. His steps were graceful but brisk and purposeful. His footsteps fell lightly on the velvet carpet, but the fibers were crushed or the same.  Celeborn spotted some guards across the hallway.
“What are you doing there you imbeciles! There are enemies at the gates!” The guards immediately came to a ready stance and pointed their swords…at him. Damn. The guards thrust their swords but impaled only a cloud of fog.

   Celeborn teleported into nearby intersection of hallways his solid colored eyes looked into an adjacent one and manipulated a small ball of light to go out with a small “pop.” As expected, the guards soon teleported adjacent to what they thought was a slip up. Idiots, the king never slips up!

   “Hey! Not all of us can teleport you know!” Well, maybe a king con make some mistakes

   “Tantulus, stop making all that noise!” The king hissed, “They’re going to find us”

  “Don’t worry!” The Halfling assured, bouncing on his hairy feet, “I have really good dexterity and stealth!”

  For once Celeborn was glad his slave had no idea what was needed to be a useful Druid. However the smile was wiped from his face as soon as he saw the guards running, or rather teleporting, at them in rapid succession.
“Hold on this time you fool!” Celeborn quickly grabbed Tantulus and fey-stepped out of the way.

   The two arrived at their destination near a painting of a former king, sitting on a throne of gnome bones. Observing the painting carefully, was a slim green man. Upon seeing this creature, the small Halfling began to grow smaller as his snake skin jacket grew and bound his limbs to his sides. When he was small enough the snake slithered into the folds of Celeborn’s robes with only the light hiss “Oh ssshit! It’sss him!”

  “I did not know you were leaving so soon, my liege” said the Green creature turning his bald head to Celeborn to look at him with his pale brown eyes, and the yin-yang tattoo encircling his bald head. “I thought you were one to rather enjoy chaos.”

  “You confuse my motives for yours, Chuang Tzu, I have told you that many times,” claimed the eladrin king, regaining his composure and drawing his staff. “Now stand aside, you know that you cannot take me on in a real duel.”

   “Debatable, but I have no intention of stopping you.” The Githzerai pulled the painting open as one would pull a tightly sealed door. For a door it was, leading to a dark staircase. “The portal is already prepared.” The Githerzai bowed low.

The King gave one of his rare smiles. “Very well done, my advisor. Your job is relived for now, though we may meet again, in hell!”  The King walked to the entrance but the doorway was blocked by a thin tattooed arm.

  “One more request, my liege.” There was a wicked smile forming under Chuang Tzu’s braided mustache. “Permission to burn this place to the ground!” Celeborn looked at the grand velvet carpets and obsidian walls, the walls that have been his home for the past century and housed so many of his prizes. As well as all his guards, slaves and wives. Guards, slaves, and wives that have turned on him.

   “Granted.” He said before swiftly closing the door, ignoring the heat the knob gave him as he closed it or the muffled laughter now echoing through the staircase. Celeborn ran down stairs and quickly started gathering his spell books and ritual components.

   At this time the snake was finally chased out of Celeborn’s sleeve by a small dragonling that growled at him. Tantulus hissed and whipped his tail at the creature, which vanished upon impact.

  “Where are we going now, my lord?” Asked the once slave.

   “There only place we can go,” Answered the once king, “Earth.”

Colt & Morpheus

   If one more of these things smelled his butt, Colt was going to lose it!

  “You must learn to get along with all of nature in order to become a successful Shaman,” Claimed the bear.

  “Can’t you just give me some powers if you do whatever I tell you?”

  “NO! I am your companion not your slave! If you wish to connect to the powers of the spirits then you must follow our requests!”

   “So now I’m your slave?” Screamed Colt, fire spewing at of the sides of his muzzle. The spirit did not reply but stared steadily at the Dragonborn. Eventually Colt slumped down and let all the wolves lick his scales. They were kind of cute when they weren’t smelling his butt or trying to eat him. Not that Colt couldn’t eat them easy himself, though.  Colt realized that one of the tongues didn’t feel like the others. Colt turned around. There was a man there, a bit younger than him and hairy, cloaked him furs. The man was Licking and smelling him like the rest of the pack.

‘Hey, what ya’ doing down there?” The man looked up, a face of dark skin appearing out of a clump of black hair with unquestioning eyes and a snout. A shifter. That would explain why he was traveling with the wolves.

   “Well, can’t you talk?”

  The Shifter did not blink. “Yeah.” He responded simply. The silence grew uncomfortable.

   “Well then why were you smelling and licking me?” The Shifter only shrugged in response and went back to his bestial behavior. Colt was gawked at the strange being then a fanged smile played on the dragonborn’s muzzle. This was going to be too easy!

   “You must get thirsty out here,” Colt said as he pulled some bottles out of his coat pocket. “You want any beer?” The shifter smelled the bottle and Colt was expecting him to lap it like a dog but instead, the wild man grabbed the bottle and started chugging like a trained professional. Colt burst on the ground laughing.

  “You just drank my own piss, man!”

  “That’s fine,” The Shifter retorted between gulps “I already went on you when you weren’t paying attention.” Colt sat up and the movement made him acutely aware of how wet his knee was. This guy was good.

   “You have a name, beast?” The shifter shrugged.

   “Morpheus, I guess.”

   “Colt,” said the Dragonborn, sticking out his two-fingered hand, “Pleased to meet ya’.” Morpheus took his hand and was immediately thrown to the ground. Colt prepared to pin the Shifter’s shoulders when the wind began to whistle. A streak of silver flew out of the bushes and impaled itself in the body of one of the wolves. The rest took off frightened.

   The sword was over six feet of pure iron with a sharpened edge and pearl pummel. But most fascinating was the how the wolf blood danced on it, flowing of the sword and gaining a life of its own. Morpheus drew the sword, prepared for a fight he had grossly misinterpreted, but Colt was no longer interested in sparring.

   “Where’d you get it?” awed the Dragonborn. Morpheus shrugged again.

   “Somewhere near a campsite” Colt moved closer to touch it, a gesture that encouraged the spirit to speak once again.

   “Maybe we shouldn't consult with these forest dwellers after all.”

  “You kidding? This guy is awesome!” Listen, Morphey, if you need a new pack now that, that last one took off, you can always come with us.

  “Sure.” Answered the Shifter, and it was as simple as that.

???:

   Chilling shadows filled the sky and land. A howling wind nearly knocked him off his feet. It was pushing him pushing somewhere, somewhere he would not return to. A soft but firm voice came to him from his desired destination.

   “Rise my champion, there is work to be done.” The darkness consumed him, but the cold was gone, all feeling was gone. Open your eyes!

   The world snapped before him. The sky was still dark but lit by speckled stars and it seemed as if he could see through the darkness to find every hidden planetoid that light would never touch. Blurry stone monoliths towered before him. They came into focus and it was then that he could see the names. These were grave stones. He sat up and put a clawed hand to his aching head. Except he didn’t have claws, and this was not his head.

   He felt his face and body. Humanoid, male, sunken features and a flat snout that pointed to his goatee. Flat snout. That’s right he was a Shifter, wasn’t he? He was wearing a black cloak bound to him by chains. Without a second thought he threw the hood low over his face and cut his right sleeve of with the knife he found in a nearby sheathe. He always hated symmetry.

   He took one careful step, then another, and a third. He didn't know where he was going or what his name was. All that came was a jumbled bunch of memories about Shifter rites of passage, Caravan rides, and for some reason countless facts about urine. It didn't matter. Whatever this mystery was he would make the best of it. And of course he would find them, whoever they were.
             

The Birth:

“What’s that?” Colt asked. He by now new that that Morpheus knew more about magic then he let on, but as usual the swordmage only stared at the distortion passively. Space seemed to bend as odd ripples appeared in thin air.

  “Whatever this is,” said the spirit bear as he appeared over Colt’s left Shoulder, “It is not of this world.” Morpheus went to touch it. there was a flash of light, a flutter of clothes, and several disgruntled noise as two figures landed on the pair. The taller one stood up and faced the ripples, which was now a full-blown doorway revealing a dark corridor and shouting voices.

   “Shuukovta!” The portal screeched and collapsed in on itself, sealing the only way back to the castle. The Eladrin King turned around with his cape and hair fluttering behind him.
 
  “Now, who are you to try and prevent our entrance to this realm!” The voice was commanding, but strained.

Colt threw the Halfling off him, who then scrambled beside his master. “Stop, you? We don’t even know who you weirdoes are! Or what was that thing?”

   “Unacceptable. Tantulus, Kill them”
   Tantulus hastily prepared his totem eagerly and a bird of flame emerged, crashing into Colt and scorching his furs, but nothing more.

   “Nice try, but here is true flames.” The spirit prepared itself for battle but Colt ignored it and took a deep breathe. Flames spewed everywhere. Tantulus screamed in pain, and Celeborn fell on the ground. He ordered the slave to stomp out the fire.

  “Hey, you guys got any beer?” Everyone turned to stare at the Shifter. Morpheus stared innocently at the rest of the company, seemingly unaware or uncaring that the three were just trying to kill each other. Morpheus’s with thoughts only on his craving.

  At last Tantulus spoke. “Not…really, though I’d kind of like some about now.”

  “As would I,” Celeborn quickly agreed, relief filling his fair face.

  “Well, there’s probably a pub in the next town. We were just heading there now, if you want to come. My name’s Colt, by the way and this is Morpheus.” Morpheus waved.

  “I am Ki-“ The Eladrin stopped himself. Caculating the Dragonborn and Shifter from behind his solid blue orbs for eyes. “I am Celeborn, a high-ranking lord of the Feywild. And this is my Slave, Tantulus.”

  “Aww, I wanted to introduce myself,” Tantulus complained but quickly looked away upon meeting his master’s gaze. “So how far away is this town?” the Hobbit asked.

   “Not far,” Colt responded “Come, I’ll show you” The Dragonborn quickly took the lead and Celeborn was eager to come close behind.

   “So tell me, … Colt, have you ever had Military training?”

    And so the company started off into town, ignoring the local grave yard, the monastery, and only payed mild attention to the reports of people being taken on screaming to the nearby dwarven ruins. What mattered now was beer and good times with friends, new and old. Fate could wait another day.