IC: ~The Darkbane Temple of Evil

[Eternal Goddess Pandora]

~Did they think the great Pandora would forget? It seemed Colvin had greatly been mistaken, that low spirit conjuring himself to that of ascended god when all he was a spirit? Malice who thought he had devoured her? Atrox thinking she was gone by his betrayals? They were all fools. Pandora had only been sleeping, protected beneath the Temple of Evil where Atra had left her. Where no one could find her who didn’t possess the keys to the lower regions of the temple, Pandora knew Atra wouldn’t betray her to the likes of them. All Pandora did was watch these entertainments with great amusement from her inner darkness, it kept her amused for all these years until finally she decided to rise and show herself as existing to the world that had thought her gone. How stupid that they placed themselves as masters to the death of a Goddess that was worshipped still in temples and in solitary. Dark rituals of blood and sacrifice, the true essence of Darkbane, not the foolery these fools attempted to show to an even more foolish world. They were not Darkbanes just heathens living off the names of the Greats that had been and gone long before their taint into the intestines of Pandora’s clan. Let it be known the truth history of the creation of Darkbane, a spirit that had accumulated the darker emotions existing in the cosmic forces of creation and man. Placed the essence of these emotions into that of a stone.

From this stone Pandora was born. It was through her manipulation and twisted dealings to turn the minds and hearts of man into a dark pit of sadism. It had been her efforts that her worshippers became thirsty for blood, gore and death, to worship her, not the spirit of Colvin that had been driven back into the darkness and only summoned at the Goddesses leisure and pleasure. The more followers Pandora obtained. She then required the status of Priests and Priestess to introduce more members into a hierarchy of ranking officers. Dengar who was her personal advisor and Spectre the original Warlord of the clan, Ballathor the Arch Priest and Atra her Arch Priestess, the rest were grunts and foot soldiers to bring more sacrifice and death in honor of Pandora. In Pandora’s hindsight, she could remember Malice as the only existing Darkbane. But she didn’t know who all these others were claiming to hold the name through this fictitious glory monger by the name of Kalicity? They were not Darkbane’s unless they obtained the blood through Pandora, it was only through her that they could become Darkbane as written in the law and the Temple of Evil, all true Darkbane’s knew this. None but Atra had the power or the right to pass on the blood not to mention the name of Darkbane.

It is even funnier to her that Colvin had become a god, more like pretending to be a god because it wasn’t in a spirits power to ascend. Any notable deity would know this greater or lesser, and for him to bypass this power onto a lower creature, an undead creature like a vampire like Kalicity into godhood was even less likely, a lot more side-splitting that a puff of wind becoming anything fathomable let alone a bloodsucker that didn’t even have enough spirit to possess a reflection. These two phony dupes becoming Gods was comically impossible. It was more believable that all Pandora had to do was wish to drink in. Reverse the essence of Colvin into her own all-powerful essence as she could do to any unworldly energy and use it for her own, God or not, she had existed in the flesh long before he had been worshipped longer than he. That alone placed her far above any pantheon the infidel could ever dream, or accomplish. To her, he was nothing but a spirit. Colvin would be treated the same as any lesser thing, and that was to be squished beneath her foot like a bug. To wake Pandora needed the energy, so why not take back what she had given.

Any power Colvin initially had was because of her, and she had every intention of taking it back. It was in her power. Eyes closed to the darkness all around her, calling to that energy as a mother could lure a child. He wouldn’t refuse her call. Pandora and Colvin had been bound together since creation. Pulling back on that energy like winding up a thread of yarn that had been unwound across the ether, tugging on it forcefully only to influence it back into herself, merging it with Colvin’s energy only to force it back to the center of her creation, making it one. Colvin would not be able to fight this retraction of his energy, because they were never made impartial to her creation. Pandora was a part of him, but a greater aspect of his energy permitted to rapidly graduate into a supreme being, a perfect being with all the evils of the world. The nightmares dreamt from every man, woman and child that had been born, that died. Pandora was every evil, and could absorb every evil regardless of what they claimed. Even the great Atra, all the demons and devils of hell or God and all the angels themselves should Pandora wish of it.  To her drinking in the essence of Colvin was like drinking a glass of water, and despite the nasty taste left in her mouth of weaker creatures like Kalicity. The Goddess felt somewhat recharged. 

For a moment there was no real urgency to rise from her crypt. Not just yet, first she would call to her Priestesses, order a nice pile of sacrifices, to seductively rouse her to give Pandora a reason to reveal herself to a world that believed the lies of her demise. Lies upon lies, the shadows whispered them all to her ears, visions revealing them to her eyes and the words revealed upon her tongues. Did it enrage her? Not a bit, a Goddess never got mad, she got even.~

Footnote:



Kalicity despite her claims is NOT an original Darkbane member and in fact wasn’t a member until 1999.  It seems this person takes great liberty to steal characters, concepts and a history that has been in circulation since early 1998. Without the consent and permission of the person they are lying and making salse claims against and the creator of what was a great clan before she changed it into a joke.

[Eternal Goddess Pandora]

~ From above the normal essence of silence, no noise, nothing to arouse Pandora to awaken. For so long everything had been languid, inner clan fueds between the true children of Darkbane and the imposters that had so comfortably crawled into the name, the envious serpents that they were. It all had left a sour taste upon the sleeping lips of Pandora and even though her eyes had been shut to the world her sense still clung to what memory of her creation that was left. What little had been left from the blasphemy of the likes of Kalicity and the spawn who followed in the footsteps of neonates. Pandora had actually hoped they would have picked up on her presence back in the world of mankind and arrived in futile attempts to eliminate her because it was to her awareness cowardly mouths had spoken it. Well here she was, willing and waiting. Waiting for them to try and take her essence, throw it make to the darkness of recreation. Wasn't such a power in the great hands of the God Colvin? Even in her slumber, eyes rolled in absolute mockery of him and his cheap, benign whore Kalicity Darkbane.

The idea brought a faint smile over the dry, parched lips of Pandora. Lips that many men mortal and immortal had dreamt of tasting. Only to taste the seeds of death being planted into their fragile minds, corruption. Corruption was everything Pandora stood for, in her time she had been the Goddess and Mistress of Corruption though she could no longer claim such wonders as her own anymore. Pandora would be a fool to think the world had not grown, moved on without her. Old evils replaced with more monsters more grand than those she had brought into the temple to serve in servitute to the name so many feared. Pandora, a Goddess who actually did have followers, a priesthood who worshipped her. Blood had been spilled for many years in her name, and to please her. Please her it did, and to those she rewarded them well with a quicker death. She knew no mercy. She gave no mercy and she expected those who bore the name to do as her teachings had foretold. Now it seemed they were all too busy running around making wild claims and fucking any living or nonliving thing that rode, slithered,crawled on by.

It was the only thing that infuriated Pandora. The lack of keeping the oaths they had sworn to abide. Oaths that had been spoken from their own tongues. Even they would be silenced, all in due time. For now she would remain still, drink in all the power that she could within the temple and the land surrounding it. Life would wither to that of dust. Even the soil would lose its earthy tones to become nothing but chalk white, bleached of all nutrients. Any energy crafted or created in the temple, would also fall victim to the thirst of this Goddess. Spells fizzing and fading to nothing. This was her domain, she had full control of it, nothing or no one was about to tell her or show her anything different. This was her temple, where her power was at its strongest even in such compressed conditions. Sleeping. From above her ears caught the sounds of the restless spirits promising her rising, wanting her to ascend so that maybe they would finally be granted peace. A mercy they would never know. Hallow sounds more like music to her senses, lulling her eyes to open and look upon a world she had long forgotten since Michello's destrtuction at the hands of Atra'Lamia.

The smile widened as mind reached out to stroke the anxious pets who awaited "Soon my beloved pets. Soon"

[Eternal Goddess Pandora]

[align=justify:0156b8ae89]~Comfort was found in the shadows slithering along her sinful body. The cool, dark embrace of a lovers touch massaging over limbs that did not know what it was like to grow weary or pain, none that any human could grant. Not the type of pain she craved. To be a Darkbane woman, she had to endure all the elements, not bitch and whine, take walks along a beach fused with the radiance of dusk ambered colours, to have children, to love and nurture them. To love was a failure. To want anything of earthly delight was a mortal weakness none were allowed to fess let alone relish in. All the Darkbane women with the exception of three were failures and there was nothing more Pandora would delight in than to have their heads thrown at her bare feet. Emerald of Darkbane.  Kirishna Darkbane and the last weakest link of them all Kalicity Darkbane. For any Darkbane male who had touched them, they too would bear that mark of shame and dishonour. Pandora knew who they all were, and as far as she was concerned not one male Darkbane (the ones she knew) was even worth spitting on.

That would be their lot in existance, to have displeased the one who gave them the right to wear the name and apply it with the bloody zest all Darkbane's were required to. She was not dead. Nor was Pandora about to remain dead to the world of man. She plotted a return and what a grand return it was going to be. The skies woould darken, blood would rain from the sky and the oceans would turn black, boil and seethe with the hatred that was her glory. Voices from inside the darkness called out to her, summoned her to the world above. To once again bless the temple with her evil, sinsiter presence. Taint the spires once more with her essence for it had been years of darkness that kept the temple now in its crumbled state. Decomposing, no longer holding the malice it had over the lands below and before it. The name was no longer feared, her power not as great as it had once been. She needed the reverence of blood and death to rouse those energies back into fruitful design.

It would be from the darkness that she would 'touch' those of her order, approach them in the veils of their blackest nightmares to bring the sacrfices she needed in her name, not in the name of Darkbane. The children could feed themselves, now it was her time, unleash the chains that binded her to this earthly prison. Finally break free and prove to them all that the mighty Pandora didn't need them. They needed her. Once their name was taken, what would they have left? Nothing. They were all nothing to her, she made them and she could break them just as easily. Each of them would feel the blood of Darkbaner being extracted from their veins, drying up to the useless fragments of flesh they truly were. The pendants would melt away, dripping along their chests with the venoms that was used in crafting them, the dark spirits which once attended to them would attack, ripping at their flesh and eyes like ravenous crows, plucking the rotting skin away from their treacherous husks. Any weapons granted in the name of Darkbane would vanish into thin air, no longer did any of them have the right to yeild their weapons in the name of Darkbane. Ungrateful children were always the best punished- and so they would be,every single last one of them who basked themselves in the lies of the weak.[/align:0156b8ae89][/color]

[Eternal Goddess Pandora]

~It was time for her to rise, to offer the black rose of chains to her victims once more. She had grown unaware of the world outside her crypt, unaware of all the changes. One thing she was certain, was that her blood had died in the veins of Darkbane. Pandora could not help but have a sense of sorrow, she wasn't immune to emotion and feelings like Dengar and Silverbolt. She even missed the insight of her adviser Excalabis. Pandora was not even sure what she was going to wake up to, what was even left in the ruin of those who had abandoned their pledges to her. It angered her but then she wasn't in the right position to do anything about it. She was about to console in what was even the point when she noticed a spark of energy around her. "Atra is alive?" her daughter of the blood was still alive and allowed this to happen?

Pandora couldn't understand what had happened. She remembered that they had their conflicts but she never thought Atra would leave her charge and rank in the hands of the likes of Kalicity? It all came flooding back to her through the eyes of the Stone of Colvin. Eyes widening in disbelief. The stone had been changed. No longer was its power available to her, no more could she tap into the power of the stone. Suddenly the Goddess felt very vulnerable. In her understanding that information was not available to her,she knew Atra lived but she had changed so greatly that she could not locate her or contact her. How did she grow so powerful? It did not make sense, Fingers clenched into a fist, forcing herself to get up and announce herself to her temple above. The Temple of Evil.

Eyes opening, hands clenching the top of her crypt, pulling the lid across and lifting herself up. At first the dark goddess felt shaky, legs struggling to stand. Arms struggling to hold her weight as she stumbled. Head bowed as black strands of hair covered her face. She had left this too long and now she was weak. Pandora needed some kind of blood to give her that boost of vitality. Eyes slithers as she looked around the state of her hidden chambers. Dust, dirt and crumble all around her. Not even the servants of her tomb kept her in respect. What was this disgrace against her. Did she not give the, everything they had wanted? And this was how they returned her reward? Teeth bit through her lips, blood trickling down her chin, her hand wiping it away only to lick it from her white skin. A voice being sent up through the cracks in the walls and ruins. A voice that reached out to any who was ever a Darkbane.

"I have returned"

[Acheros]

[align=justify:a058826538]Slithering from the shadows came an unholy hiss. Darkness pulling upwards to gather into a single cloaked form. Ballathor the once proud Arch Priest of Darkbane next to Atra'Lamia LaDonna Darkbane. Never did he forget his heritage and feel that pumping through the blood of his precious Goddess brought great pain to his heart. Never did he completely turn his back, not to Atra and not to Pandora. The blood had grown weak, he did not look down upon the greats such as Malice but he spat at the name of Kalicity Darkbane.

Walking from the darkness that gathered around his tall, menacing form. Shadows parting like the red sea did for Moses, boots echoing throughout The Temple of Evil as they had done so many times before. Stopping at his Goddess before lowering to his feet, bowing his head against her feet before rising to greet her face to face. Pulling back the hood of his cloak so that it fell completely from his muscular form to the ground. A black fingernail scrapping against his flesh, cutting the crest of Darkbane into his skin as it smeared thick with blood.

His dark eyes looked into Pandora's. He could see the anger building up from the inside and he had no answers for her. It had been millennium since he had seen Atra'Lamia, and even longer for the rest of them. He could not speak for their insolence, then again everyone thought her the best bit of dead. Or so the rumors went. He never cared for rumors though but he was curious to see what was with this resurrection when Pandora swore never to vex herself with the realm of mankind again. And what of Marcello? Things had changed and perhaps for the better. They made the blood weak, this could be a new turn in the pages of this blood hankering clan but one thing was certain he would not leave the side of Pandora again.

Finally he spoke, his voice dark and deep, harsh breath pluming through his nostrils while taking in her intoxicating scent. "I have never left you my eternal goddess. I cannot speak for the blood but I certainly speak for myself that what they have done is blasphemy to the oaths they have taken. Perhaps we hunt the blood, or leave them to rot in their own deceits?" He had never been one to allow these things to slide, he knew she would know a lot more than he and could not wait to hear the extent of how things really were through the eyes of the goddess. "Tell me my beloved Queen, what plagues thee?" Making a sweep of hand towards her throne of skulls and bones, wishing for her to take a seat while he conjured forth a beverage he knew she loved. The blood of stolen infants fermented to red wine.

Offering the goblet to Pandora, while he stood before her marveling on her beauty. That was one thing that had not changed. He had not changed, still tense and strong, no hair on his head but the tribal marking of his beloved clan and the bone sculptured tattoos that marked his body from the bone of the draemanticora. It had been part of a ritual him and Atra'Lamia had taken part in, a secret moment between the two to bond the blood closer to their heart. It had worked for him, why did it fail for her? He didn't like to think what was going to be said by Pandora, but whatever her wish would be, he would obey, he had sworn himself to her and no other even if his heart was in another place. [/align:a058826538][/font]

[Eternal Goddess Pandora]

~ One out of the many returned. It angered the Goddess beyond belief but she tried to show Ballathor that she was pleased to see him. It had been a long time since she saw the dark priest of Darkbane, at least he had not changed. Shame the said could not be the same for all. This was meant to be a joyous time, their black goddess had returned to them after many many years of keeping herself away. So they would grow stronger and did not depend on her so much. Pandora didn't think this way to flatter herself, it was how it was. The blood had grown weak and whoever was responsible was going to pay, greatly. Looking at Ballathor, walking towards only to stop and reach for the ritual dagger he had always kept at his side. Instantly she sliced open her wrist pouring the blood onto the ground. This was her mark, it was a calling of the blood. No Darkbane could resist. Then she spoke.

 "I call a hunt on the head of Kalicity Darkbane. She is only a mere servant not a blood member of Darkbane. She has sinned against me, sinned against all that is Darkbane. Bring me her head and all will be forgotten." An evil smile rolled over her red lips, black snakes of her hair blowing up to frame her intense features. Dagger held out for Ballathors hand, taking it and slicing a thick wound against his wrist. Raising up to her lips, drinking deeply of his blood only to spit it on the ground where her blood had fell. This was to insure all the ones holding the Darkbane name were aware of her calling. Should they fail in her request, it will be on all their heads for what was given to them, can easily be taken away. Pandora was not ashamed to pull the low blows, she had rumbled with the best of them and know it was time to make them all aware that the true Dark Goddess had returned not a brat like Kalicity wearing a false title. She was not a Darkbane and never would be.

Handing Ballathor back his dagger, ready to reply to his question about what plagued her. "I am plagued by lies and mockery on our name. The crest you hold so true Ballathor. That all Darkbane's should hold true. These ungrateful brats will learn of my waking one way or another." Pandora looked him in the eye, full of anger and hatred for the bitch known as Kalicity, the one who claimed all feared her when actually they laughed. It had been brought to the attention of Pandora that Kalicity tried to make herself a name in the world of Ayenee only to be run out by choirs of laughter. She could not remember the name of this warrior. Must have been funny to see her get assraped by a warrior besting her weak predictable technique. Showing her flaws because she had no merits. Pandora laughed, the situation had been nothing but funny to her. "Let's see how she reacts with a death mark over her pathetic head".

[Acheros]

[align=justify:3081e2fb41]Ballathor could not resist himself to growl at the words of Pandora, not out of malice but out of past glory. It had been such a long time that he had heard words that had moved him, to cause an expression of the hatred he held for mortals and all those who stood in opposition to Darkbane. To him they were not of the blood, they had stolen the name to blaspheme it into an eternal joke only to blame those not involved in their weak attempts to rise into godhood. Ballathor did not know exactly what had enraged Pandora to the point of unleashed fury, he did not care.

The only thing he cared about was the undeniable truth their name had been turned to mud, and it was only at the hands of one who put the wheels in motion. She could blame all the names of Darkbane to resolve herself, but the Arch Priest of Darkbane knew and could see through her lies. He only saw her, the wretched wench by the name of Kalicity. Her weak offspring draining what wealth Darkbane managed to hold onto during the dark years of Pandora’s absence. His eyes saw the names she had spoken verbal blame on, Malice, Atra’Lamia, Pandora among with many others when the whole time it was her. The shit and mud was on the hands of Kalicity Darkbane, no other.

The Dark Priest didn’t care to know what the excuse was, there was nothing that could possibly be said to make amends for weakness of verbal envy and jealousy. Stolen titles that weren’t hers to be had, and claim lies that Atra’Lamia had taught her magic when every Darkbane knew the truth that Atra taught cowards and frauds nothing. His attentions were just pleased that she made no attempt to claim things of him, like he had bedded her and fell in love. Why would he, ever fall in love with a hideous unintelligent beast of burden? There had only been two loves in his life, Darkbane and one other, she knew who she was.  The order of black blood brought no surprise to Ballathor, it was how things were done in the old days when his presence was still young and fresh. These days he felt old and depleted of the strength that was his to possess, to claim.

It would take great work to even bring this temple back to former glory, he surely would have his work cut out for him, he just hoped he still had the energy inside himself to complete the task. With a nod Ballathor answered Pandora’s decree. ”I believe her to be in hiding, in Eden? Hiding behind the comfort of being a God. What a foolish vampire.” [/i]Ballathor looked at the Goddess he loved ”Even if she were a Goddess, she could never come quarter to the comparison of you Pandora.”[/i] Stretching his hands out in front of him, lips mumbling incoherent languages, while summoning his inner sight across the lands to detect the nest of thieves. Across the lands of Ayenee to the nation of Eden. Black eyes narrowing to snake-like slits, lips snapping open as a black mist escaped to cloak the room.

Soon images emerged, vague at first but quickly becoming clearer so that Pandora could see for herself the claims both Kalicity and Colvin had made and the lives they were living. ”Seems the weak ghost influenced by evil, nothing more than a servant to you now claims Godhood as well.” [/i]Dark laughter escaping clenched jaw. His features now taking on more of a skeletal appearance, a priest of Thanatos was prone to entropic effects when using dark magics. Death and Battle magic was his specialty, not usually taking time for divination. This time he made an acceptation so that Pandora could extract all the answers for herself. Kalicity taking walks along the beach, displaying affection towards her litter, showing nothing but pitiful human outlook. ”So much for being. A goddess??”[/i] He could not contain himself any longer, bursting out into a boisterous fit of laughter than echoed throughout the Temple of Evil.

”A GODDESS??? HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!”[/i] Just about falling over from the force of mockery, he had never said anything funnier during his time of existence. Not one thing has ever amused him in this fashion during his whole time in Darkbane. In that time he had come across some way out there claims and personalities, but this harlot really took the cake. The deplorable spirit Colvin, was no better either since he actually made her believe she was Goddess. Where were these fools worshippers? To be a God you have to have worshippers??? Ballathor laughed again, this time much louder than the last.[/align:3081e2fb41]

[Malice]

[align=center][/align]


[align=center]There are some secrets better left buried, for to unearth them would bring the world down in flames.[/align]

Entwining like stars in the sky, all roads eventually lead somewhere and just as one path might intersect with another, so too did the planes of existence converge upon a single point in space. It was here, at the very apex of life, where the Astral plane dwelt and though many a traveller whispered it was where Gods went to die, in recent years it had undergone a dramatic transformation. Where once there had been vast expanses of silver, the heavens were now scorched black and what little solid matter remained now bore the scars of eternal agony. Perched aloft a throne of skulls, the new lord of the domain had turned Githyanki cities into nightmarish reflections of his black heart, reducing once proud creatures into little more than slaves to fuel the endless slaughter his armies wrought. Carving bloody swaths across the Multiverse, the Barbed Legion had become infamous from one end of the Blood War to the next, and yet even this daemonic legion's appetites couldn’t match the ravenous hunger of their master.

The Great Devourer was an ancient beast by most men’s standards, whose thirst for bloodshed had lead him from the mortal lands of Aye-nee to the Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus and back again, but despite millennia of conflict, he had not forgotten his roots. Swallowing light like the famished would a meal, twin opals of obsidian gazed longingly across the kingdoms of man, piercing the veils between reality with their sheer intensity as their master patiently waited for the wheels of fate to grind full circle. Time held no meaning in this place, for the seasons came and waned unfelt by its denizens, and yet when events he had set into motion finally came to fruition, it felt as if a weight had finally been lifted when a bitter-sweet pain wracked his body. Transcended above even the Titans in power, the decadent deity seldom experienced suffering, but when the lines carved into his chest ignited in fire, a masochistic moan rolled from black-hued lips and echoed throughout the halls of his Castle.

Sweeping across a valley of unblemished porcelain, these blazing trails eventually formed a symbol upon his skin, where long ago in his fervour; he had etched the original signet of Darkbane, a legendary testament to his devotion that he had born into battle upon many an occasion. When the formidable heat had taken its toll, however, and the crest stood proudly upon his chest once more, he began to rise from his throne, just in time to heed the Siren-song of Pandora’s primordial call.

Everything is falling into place, he mused, as he relished the familiar sight of the Goddess’s message strewn upon the Temple floor, though he himself was still some distance away. Much like Atlas, he had shouldered the burden of her secret for time immoral and now that she had arisen, now that their plans had succeeded, he was ready to make his return and help pick up the pieces. It had all been a test you see, implemented with a cunning surpassing mortal men, for when Pandora had felt her followers falter, she knew that only the strong would prove themselves worthy in the end. It was she that had approached Malice originally, who was naught but an ambitious Wraith at the time, but once she had revealed her scheme, he had completed the ritual as she instructed, and even roped gullible Atrox into the mix to witness the orchestrated endeavour.

They believed her dead and gone, but he always knew the truth of what happened that night and so, like the loyal son returning to their loving mother, he tore a hole in the fabric of space and expertly weaved a wormhole that lead from his current position, straight into the ruined corridors of the Temple itself. Stepping as much out of the past, as he did the conduit, Malice’s hulking form was an imposing sight as it emerged from the swirling vortex, a figure covered in armour and caked in blood. To the unwary observer he would resemble a demon, far more terrible than their dreams  could have predicted, but beneath the handsome veneer of purple hair lay something so foul that it delighted in torturing the monsters that most men dread. Despite the aeons that had passed since his last visit, Malice found his feet moving of their own accord, retracing steps that he once had trodden through the winding passageways of his home without the need of a map, for the pull of Pandora was nigh inexorable now, and he could pursue it blindfolded.

As the juggernaut strode deeper into the complex though, a strange thing began happening, for with every step he took, with every foot he drew closer to the source of the call, the scenery around him mysteriously changed. Stone shuddered and masonry moved as the abomination’s presence washed over them, but rather than experiencing the destruction that normally occurred in his wake, the Temple seemed to actually be repairing itself, drawing upon the potent energies surrounding Malice like a leech would a vein. Rejuvenating rapidly, the Temple had recovered some of its former splendour when Malice finally reached Pandora’s Mausoleum, a place that many still held sacred to this day, where he was pleased to discover that he had not been the only one that hadn’t ‘given up’ on their Goddess.

Studying Ballathor’s numerous tattoos for a moment, almost as if they would jog his memory, a smile writhed across his face as he remembered who they belonged to and, with a respectful nod to the Dark Priest, he turned his attentions to Pandora herself, who seemed to be somewhat weakened from the ordeal. Though his appearance had shifted extensively during her absence, the deep wells of sorrow that gleamed within his sockets would remind her who this behemoth was and, more importantly, communicate the fact that although they still burned with merciless fury, he had kept his end of their ‘Bargain’. Sinking to one knee before the Dark Lady, Malice’s hand curled about the hilt of FiendWrath, his infernal sword and, clutching the grip of human-flesh tightly, he slammed its tip into the ground infront of her, performing one last act of servitude before the sinister effects of the weapon were unleashed for all to see.

Crafted to devour the souls and, inevitably, the power of its victims, FiendWrath had claimed countless lives in its master’s quest for glory but now that the long wait was over, it began to fulfil its second purpose and extended the vast reservoirs of energy stored inside it out to Pandora’s incredible thirst.

“ And thus it begins…” Malice intoned, as he bowed his head reverently and offered her the huge amounts of sustenance that she would need to bolster her limbs and resume her rightful place among the Gods.

[Eternal Goddess Pandora]

~ The temple shook, long forgotten echoes ringing through the ruined halls. The blood sang through the veins of Pandora filling her with an evil she instantly recognized to be Malice. She could not explain the feeling rushing through her body, was it joy or the knowing that her treasured clan was returning to her. They had been the loyal ones, the ones who kept their sworn oaths true. It saddened her heart that Atra’Lamia had not yet joined them, that it was unlikely she would but the hope still remained clear in Pandora’s mind. If Atra arrived it would be complete, the last of the real blood not the curs who had stolen the name to achieve status. Power once again surged through the walls of the temple, through the spires and down through the cracked stone floor where they all stood. Eyes closing, bathing in the moment she had dreamt of for so long, to bring terror to all the lands beneath the banners of Darkbane. Every horror manifested, killing in the name of The Eternal Goddess Pandora and Darkbane. Pandora could barely contain the excitement rushing through her veins, erupting in black shadows around her small frame. Black flames licking through the locks of her hair like snakes. Even her skin seemed to glow with a strange black light, coloring her skin from white to shaded onyx as if it were hardening like a statue.

Her power had depleted, vanished from the years of being dormant until she felt the need to rise and take the claims falsely made. No one was the Queen of Darkbane but her, the only monarch it would ever know even if Atra had rightfully taken the claim in her absence. Pandora had told her to do so, to keep the blood alive in the veins of every member and so it would not be marked by peasants. Drawing back on the blood, sucking it back into her black veins and deep breath drawn through lungs, taking back in the essence given to them on initiation. Kalicity and Colvin would no longer have the blood of Darkbane along with the litter of rats she had produced. None bore the right to use the name of Darkbane who had not received it from Pandora. It had been brought to her knowledge that some other idiot by the name of Tainted Silhouette claimed to be a Darkbane when she was not. It entertained Pandora to no end that they wore a name they didn’t know they never had. Posers of the flesh, then again anyone in toe with Kalicity Safflicia was nothing more than a sham. A joke to jeer fun at in times of dullness. At least now with Malice kneeling before her with Fiendwraith Pandora was able to ask him directly just what had happened in her absence.

Walking forward, curves swaying beneath the fabric of her dress that clung to every curve a figure of perfection in the eyes of men and Gods. His excess power waiting for her to accept and take into her giving her the strength she had once before. One hand placed on the top of his head and the other wrapping around his giant hand. ”I accept you back Malice, the Warlord of Darkbane who will again kill in the name of Darkbane and me. The rank is yours as it has always been, make us proud with blood and gore. Kill all in your wake and in the name of Darkbane. I make you the adversary of all that stands against us. Spread your wings of death and spread the disease of death across all the lands of Ayenee and Aoyn. Do this and I shall award you with your greatest desire.” Hand wrapping over his tighter, eyes closing as she accepted the powerful energy he had to offer. Electricity buzzing all around her, static sparks flying from her body and hair filling her with that evil power. Pandora felt it in her blood and bones, refreshing what had been lost through the centuries of starvation. Malice had kept his mission true, and it had worked for here were the loyal ones before her, death to all the others who failed to respond to their goddess.

”Malice you award me with your energy, now I can meet all challenges and win. This is our dark day, the beginning of retribution has began.” This time she would not make her clan respect weak spirits, they would worship themselves and worship her. Strength feeding strength by the clash of blades and dark curses for already her presence swept across the lands of Ayenee. The temple restoring itself from the power given by Malice again finding a life of its own to rebuild from the wreck and ruin of forgetfulness but no longer would they be forgotten only those who die under the blades of Darkbane would be forgotten. Another soul claimed to be tortured while they howled beneath the dark stars, blood thirsty rituals, orgies of mayhem and lust. The old days returning to the future and soon she and Darkbane would be unstoppable and all who stood in the way to perish. Smiling down at her warlord "Tell me what of these lies uttered by the mouth of Kalicity?" did he even know.[/size]

[Acheros]

[align=justify:f1bac1c34a]The shaking and shifting of the temple Ballathor knew someone or something formidable was entering into the magical barriers the temple always had, making no difference on the power of this being. Ballathor studied Pandora closely, studying her reaction to the presence manifesting and pouring more energy into the temple and into the dark goddess so that once again Darkbane would be alive. He stood rigid, arms and legs marked with the dark tribal tattoos of the clan and those given by the arch priestess herself Atra’Lamia LaDonna Darkbane. At least in some part that was what she was known as but he knew it was not her real name. He had a lot more insight into the priestess than what some had and were shown, his experience was rather different.

Now the Great Warlord Malice had returned to them. Ballathor could not exactly remember him since most of his time was dedicated to the ritual and sacrificial side of the clans function. The dark priest’s reaction would be of his function in the clan, placing a fist against his chest and bowing his head in respect not saying a word and letting the exchange of words between Malice and The Eternal Goddess Pandora to flow without added obstruction. Hands then moving to his side, lifting slowly as his own energies were summoned, shooting through the tips of his fingers to waken the death spires.

Pnnacles of the temples power that drew on the energies and terrors from sacrifices, the cone focus of rituals conducted in the name of Pandora. It brought warmth to his cold body, witnessing these two great figures from the dark days returning, it was near complete only one more would elevate the ascension of Darkbane. A form of sadness entered his heart, he did not speak of it or show it, but it echoed in the halls of his mind the name he would have spoken. In her own time perhaps she would return but until then it was best her name was silenced in his thoughts maybe Pandora labeled her as a traitor as well?

He wanted to ask exactly that but for now would leave it until the reunion had been authenticated and the temple awoken to the blood. Drawing his dagger, slicing open a large wound to the palm of his hand and stepping into the triangular pentacle cut into the stone of the temples floor. Pouring his blood into its center then looking over to both Malice and Pandora to do the same. It had to be done with own weapons and by their own hands. That they returned by their loyalty and will. It was a sign of their true allegiance to Darkbane and Pandora. A link of blood so that no matter where they were, they can be easily found. No magic, no ward, nothing could cloak this union.

Eagerly Ballathor waited to hear what had happened from Malice in regards to the bloodsucking dog who had stolen the title of its monarch without authority from the Queen herself, Pandora or Atra’Lamia. He had attempted to hunt it down, only to be banished from her frail kingdom by some pitiful means. All he remembered was laying down a frontal challenge, her best weapon against his. The so called Goddess of Melee backed down to a Melee challenge. One moment he was there and the next ‘poof’ he wasn’t. It had baffled his mind but then again everything else Kalicity did was crusty and cheesy this was no real surprise.

Cowardice was always found in the ones who hid in the shadow of another. It was like she had a sick obsession with other Darkbane members that she had to lie about attacking them to make herself look scary? On the contrary it just made Kalicity look more like a fuckhead than what she already was, assraped by even the weakest of Ayenee’s hero’s. Hilarious. Laughed out of Ayenee and exiled to hide in her stolen kingdom of Eden. He had always seen this in her shallow soul, easier to read than a blank piece of paper the interest was just the same, dull and boring. Never mind any Darkbane blood that had been in Kalicity was now taken back, no longer even a memory.

Standing in the silence of his mind waiting for Pandora and Malice to offer their blood hence mending the broken ties the clan Darkbane had received. The wounds had to be healed before the healing process of Darkbane could begin. The first step was always the biggest everything else from here on would not be as monumental as this. This was what was going to build the new foundry of the clan, a new legacy into the books already written, names erased and vanished who displayed disregard for the dark faith and dark way of Darkbane as a death cult not a band of merry dick suckers and sluts. Sluts were only good for one thing, fucking and then killing, you didn’t let them slither away on all fours.

Darkbane did not breed weakness, not like the weakness found in the unwritten ones, Kalicity, Blissful Demise and Suunaise even Lorna could be placed into the category luckily Atra had disposed of her while Pandora gloated. Kirrianna was another who suffered the true punishment for being a whore and not a warrior. This time things would be different, far harder, far eviler and this time no survivors would be left to tell the tale. The banner of Darkbane would be enough to tell the story of what befell the burnt and plundered villages. Death, destruction and chaos that was the new blood, the reborn way of Darkbane.[/align:f1bac1c34a]

[Malice]

[align=center]Though often considered blunt, Truth may be far more cutting than any blade.[/align]

Humbled and obedient, the menacing figure of Malice almost seemed eclipsed as Pandora clasped his hand and quenched her incredible thirst upon the boon that he offered, though any illusions of weakness were dissolved the instant lightning lashed his body. Emanating from sumptuous curve and delicate finger alike, the electricity that cascaded across Pandora’s body would have disintegrated a lesser man, but Malice remained unscathed by the ferocious energies, weathering them like an indomitable mountain would a storm. As the embrace continued then, and the Dark Goddess feasted, it became apparent that it wasn’t fear that had laid the monster low, nay it was a deep-seeded sense of respect that surpassed words, for what sadistic soldier would be complete without an equally brutal Queen?

Whilst this exchange took place, however, the black pits of despair, that fiends like him called eyes, flicked momentarily from her ebony skin to their other companion, watching with interest as he deftly recited a ritual that would mark the auspicious occasion of their reunion. When Pandora’s honeyed tongue rewarded him with praise though, he couldn’t help himself from grinning with devilish glee, for the mention of battle struck a chord in him that some might call love, but others obsession. Ruthless and resourceful, the ancient Warlord had sown suffering in Darkbane’s name for years without end, and so to hear his Queen’s command was a sweet symphony that he would match with each and every stroke of his sword.

A noise that resembled thunder coursed smoothly from Malice’s maw, causing the sentence that followed to vibrate with the sheer force of his voice as he thanked her. “Then let the earth bleed and the heavens weep, for I shall bury your enemies and carve Darkbane in their skulls. None shall stand before us and all shall tremble in awe at the very mention of our name. “When Ballathor had finally prepared the unholy land for the sacrament, utilizing his own blood as a catalyst, Malice clambered to his feet and had just entered the pentagram when Pandora spoke of woe, and the lying harlot that had sullied their honour with her despicable tales, triggering a harrowing shift in his demeanour. Where once, the passionate fires of duty had burned, there now boiled a horrendous wrath, which bubbled in his veins like lava and, as he snatched his blade, erupted like a volcano as his fingers wrapped around FiendWrath’s edge.

“ The AUDACITY of that whore galls me to my very core, for she spun treacherous webs of deceit whilst I was away at War. Her betrayal shall be repaid a THOUSAND FOLD when I crush the life out of her broken corpse. “ Gripping tighter with each syllable, the knuckles of the Warlord had become bone-white by this point, driving his hand onto FiendWrath’s teeth until a veritable torrent of crimson liquid flowed onto the pentagram’s surface. “ Know that I am Darkbane and I shall DIE before another taints our name with their filth” and with that he twirled his weapon in a blindingly fast arc, sweeping it in towards his own flesh where, parting like an obsidian sea, the armour covering his chest receded, sinking into his pores like moisture. Furious, though not at Pandora but at the travesty he had endured, he sliced anew the signet of Darkbane atop the previous scars, stating with deed rather than word how sincere his oath to their cause truly was as the blood he had willingly shed simmered with Ballathor's and provided the second component for the spell.

Once the moment had passed though, and Malice had said his peace, he licked FiendWrath clean and then sheathed the daemonic device, regaining his placid persona again whilst his gaze rested squarely upon Pandora, waiting for her verdict on the situation.

[Eternal Goddess Pandora]

[align=justify:6b29205d93]~ Pandora was pleased at Malice’s response, for now. The Dark Goddess of Darkbane did not wish to taint this moment with the foulness of Kalicity’s name any further. This was a moment to rejoice in darkness not speak of lesser beings who had no real significance to Darkbane, past, present and future. If it was these three who were left to rebuild it then so be it, they would endure the rebuild and strive to empower each other. It would be a long process but somehow Pandora didn’t think it would take as long as she had at first thought, she did not expect Malice to return perhaps the same could be said for Atra’Lamia. There was no point in thinking about wishes and wants for her daughter of the blood to be there if Atra wanted to see this moment and be a part of it then she would be here. Pandora had to leave it there and not spoil the moment.

”You satisfy me with your reply Warlord of Darkbane. I see the truth burning in your eyes of hatred and lust for blood, the blood of Kalicity and this pleases me.” Eyes burning as his sword swept to mark his skin again, slashing open the old wounds of Darkbane’s crest in his chest. Blood spilling forth while Pandora licked her lips seductively, that very blood reflecting in her eyes with a bloody gleam as the Warlords blood fused with Ballathor’s. The pact near done, all that was needed was hers. With that she laughed, the loud boom ringing throughout the temple accompanied with a thousand screams of the souls lost of the blades and weapons of death from Darkbane.

”All their blood shall be spilled by the destruction wrought from our blades. Death never a release for them for they shall be eternally imprisoned by my eternal hunger. The fools think of me as weak, that was their greatest mistake for as I may not be the greatest of warriors. I sure have the greatest at my side. They shall not receive any mercy, they shall beg for a quick death only to receive a cold and slow one. Mark this night as our Unholy Eve. To be remembered for all dark days when the world is coated in black and the world trembles in fear.” Pandora did not have a weapon, raising her wrist to her lips as teeth sunk deeply into her tender skin, biting deep to release that thick, dark red liquid to be poured and mixed with there bloods. The oath and pact done and the Temple of Evil now fully empowered.

”The coward bitch runs, hides in her webs. She shall keep, right now the crest of Darkbane requires blood.” Turning to Ballathor while a finger points to the heavy wrought iron doors ”Fetch me a slave to sacrifice. This night we celebrate in rituals and drink. Tomorrow we bask in the blood of our enemies” Offering a dark smile while she then turns to face Malice with that same seductive smile as before. Waiting for Ballathor to leave them in private ”You are a being who lusts like I am a creature who lusts for power. Anything to ensure my existence in this mortal world. A woman of lusts who seeks a consort with equal hungers.” Moving towards him, a finger moving over the marks his sword had left, dipping her finger in his blood only to bring it to her lips. Tongue lapping at his blood while looking into his eyes deeply. ”What if I chose you?”[/align:6b29205d93]

[Acheros]

[align=justify:18c38282cd]All the blood that was needed had been added, just the same as it had done on its first birth into creation. Now it was complete and he smiled evilly as all three stood there in greatness bathing in the essence that was truly Darkbane, not just the blood but the true power of Darkbane. A power that made even gods thirsty for more, craving it like a compulsion. Any Darkbane can know when the blood has been awoken, but only those who did not have the blood taken away from them, leaving them with the nothing they deserved. To have the blood taken away was the greatest of all shames, a name is a name but blood is thicker than water and now water in their veins would be all they would have. Ballathor had his title returned, the goddess had returned to them and Malice was given his title was Warlord, it was the same before when the blood was first active, Pandora, her advisor Dengar of Darkbane and Spectre Darqphyre Darkbane. This was the sign to the dark priest that all was well, the omens and signs informing him that this how it should be.

There was no surprise in Ballathor that Pandora would be craving a sacrifice to celebrate, it would be no hard task for him to find one something innocent. A virgin or even an infant, an infant would be better because it would be untainted from sin. There was nothing that could refresh the temple than an innocent soul and then again the temple always did love its virgins and so did the Darkbane men. There was a lot of fun to be had in a being screaming with her throat cut and other unimaginable sins happening to her while she bled out. It was one of those things he enjoyed most of all other than the dark rituals he was going to perform when the temple was properly activated and he could focus more of the blood using the power within the temple spires from the blood of Pandora, Malice and he. Again placing his fist to his chest, head bowing slightly as skeletal features nodded. ”As ye wish my beautiful goddess, Pandora.”

That was all he needed to say before replacing the hood of his cloak and quickly leaving the temple. He had been given his mission leaving Pandora and Malice to speak of private matters that her and the warlord always spoke about. He knew what it was without having to use his keen senses to hear or smell the desire she had all over her body. Smiling fiendishly as he strode into the darkness towards the cities of Ayenee for that would be where he would find his sacrificial lamb.[/align:18c38282cd][/size]

[Malice]

Without the sweat of labour on our brow, few things would ever prosper.

Stampeding through his veins, as if his flesh were trampled beneath the hooves of Calvary, the true essence of Darkbane swept through his body like a decadent tide, cleansing the disgust that had lingered there and washing away past disgraces, at least for now. The deception of Kalicity, dire though it may be, became overshadowed in that one unholy moment, where the ancient name of Darkbane was re-forged anew, christened in the blood of the strong and born out of the merciless fires that drove them to ecstasy’s of slaughter.

A thick and bestial tongue traced its way across the Warlords lips when the deed was done, demonstrating the sadistic pleasure he extracted from each and every scream that resounded throughout the terrible Temple, which was only accentuated by the Dark Goddess’s seductive speech. These were the days he had longed for and now that they had arrived, he couldn’t help but reflect on the hardships he had endured, for every step had lead him here and now it seemed his long wait was finally over. He supposed a lesser being might have actually cried as Pandora’s words reached a mighty crescendo, but Malice had always been a warrior at heart and so rather than respond like a snivelling dog, he threw his head back and unleashed a monstrous roar of triumph.

Shaking his mesh of purple locks wildly, one could have been forgiven for assuming that Malice was on the eve of War, had they come across him then, a creature so ferocious that it worked itself up into a veritable frenzy before he shattered the souls of his foes. In truth however, the suffering he would sow would be eternal, for now he marched under Darkbane’s banners and no man, myth, or even God would stand before his wrath. Malice’s features writhed into a knowing grin as Pandora dispatched Ballathor to fetch some meat, for he had witnessed the woman’s skill in her art in the past and so he was sure this would prove quite the entertainment, when she stripped the skin from the slave's worthless carcass.

Soothing and seductive, the smile that met the Warlord’s gaze, as he turned back to face his Queen, suggested that she had more on her mind than mere sacrifices though, and his nostrils flared with interest at the intoxicating musk that seemed to emanate from her cruel curves. Cocking his head to one side, his eyes drank in the darkness that she embodied whilst she revealed her intentions to him, causing his body to betray his response far sooner than his voice could reply. Toned to perfection, each crest and line of the Great Devourer’s physique seemed to have been chiselled from stone, and as the implications of Pandora’s suggestion struck home, these majestic valleys seemed to heave with desire.

Swelling with pride, in more places than one, Malice growled as her tongue traversed his wound, experiencing a mixture of pleasure and pain that spurred the animal inside him on to greater heights. Muscles bulged and tendons strained as two tree-trunk like arms snaked around Pandora’s hips and then, with an inhuman ease, he raised her body off the ground and in one thunderous motion, slammed it down upon the blood-flecked pentagram beneath them. Burning with a hunger for flesh, rather than death for the first time in ages, the fiend's eyes surveyed the prize she was offering him as he pinned her to the ground and retorted simply” Then you shall know what it feels like to have a REAL man inside you”.

[Eternal Goddess Pandora]

~ Malice hoisted her up into his arms before throwing her hard against the ground. Despite the thunderous pummel Pandora felt no pain only a burning want throughout her body. His remark brought an evil laugh over her lips, if he were a real man. Then sure enough finally he would know what it was to be in a real woman not the trash he objected himself to. Pinned to the ground, dark red lips sneering before replying "And you will know what it is to be inside a real woman, not a whore." Hand gripping around his throat only to pull him down towards her while her other hand sought for the prize. Something a real man should have between his legs. She had to see what she was about to get and if she wanted it, not that he had to ask all he had to do was take.

Legs wrapping around his waist, hand digging down deep only to pull hard and let the serpent free from its prison. Directing it towards the cave of her soul. It had been a long time since a lover penetrating the black hub of her axis and Malice would certainly be a prize to add to the collection of names, come and gone before him. But would she take another after finally finding a man who would be enough to stand by her side, be the father to the future generation of Darkbane? It was not just sex to her, it was the procreation to the very blood of Darkbane, one of power and strength unmatched. He would plant his seed so that evil would again curse the world with plagues of sickness and death.

With a twist of her waist, Pandora intended to flip him over onto his back so that she could ride that large, potent serpent. Breasts exposed by the filmy garb draping her figure, chest rising and falling with every expression of lust to each thrust forced down hard on his sword, impaling her right to the hilt. Black locks framing her face only to be swung violently from the force crashing down hard against his body. Lips parted like a succubus ready to take its victim to fang and sexual delight. Fangs extending only to tease his skin and chest while hard nibbles brushed over his chest. Nails digging into his flesh deep, raking patterns of her presence and this moment shared, marks that would scar and never heal. Moans escaping past flickering tongue as it traced the arches of his mouth only to meet his tongue entwining them in a dance of serpents.