Voices from Heaven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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driftfleet2015-10-20 10:06 am
thespaceopera) wrote in driftfleet2015-10-20 10:06 am
Entry tags:
Sweet dreams are made of these...
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[As he goes, he picks up books that are scattered on the floor, skipping forward a few pages as his pace slows, then dropping them again and moving forward quickly again, only to start the cycle all over.]
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There is only pain if you go further, stranger. This is a dead land. Nothing lives, nothing will ever live.
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I'm already dead. What's your next threat?
cw: blood and violence REST IN PEACE YOU GOT THE BAD MEMORY CAESAR
[He shimmers and disappears. The hall follows suit, leaving Caesar in the middle of a battleground. Tall oak trees-- once beautiful autumn colors-- are now wreathed in flame. Ahead of him stretches a great Dead Scar that blackens the very ground, like a giant had carved through it. In its wake are overturned wagons, shambling undead, legions of nightmarish spirits that flay the flesh of the fleeing elves unlucky enough to come too closely.
They appear to be fleeing the golden city ahead. The scar has carved through that too. Ivory and gold gates lay in pieces. The blood flows in rivers along broken weapons, the bodies of citizens old and young alike. There are still soldiers-- soldiers, like living people but with glowing blue eyes-- cutting down more people in the city proper. Every one of them is garbed in jet black armor, and they all carry rune-inscribed weapons in the form of swords or axes. They seem to show no emotion, no matter who they kill. Even when children beg to be spared, the death knights do not falter. A few even appear to be elves themselves.
The worst part is the meat wagons, because they come by to collect the dead and cart them away... to make more of the undead army.
It's just a memory, though. Nothing can be touched or stopped. All it can do is continue playing and beckon Caesar into the ruins of this once-great city.]
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[The undead are a bit too close to the zombies and ghouls created by the Pillar Men for comfort. All of this, in fact, is a little too close to battles of the past for comfort, only made worse by its larger scale.]
[Reflexively, he tries to punch one of the death knights. His hand passes right through. Fuck that, he thinks, and stalks through the gates, simmering with fury.]
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