The guy late posting this for 10 whole days:
Undeath and Taxes
Prologue Chapter 5: Chaos Within, Order Without
“Good grief…” thought Kel’thuzad as he watched the chaos unfolding in the Golden City, “We march and screech and clamor for 2 whole weeks and only now they decide to look outside…”
Kel’thuzad was an [Arch Lich], and a powerful one at that. When he was created by his divine lord he had been given immeasurable power and an entire fleet of flying necropolises to command. Originally named Clancy Pembroke, a name Kel’thuzad had always hated, he took to necromancy at a young age, much to the horror of his family. When he was cast out after being discovered reviving dead birds, he was banished to the deadlands where he had lived for only 8 more years before being killed by the clouds of poison that covered that hell. His last moments were filled with hatred, rage and anguish as he cursed both the family that rejected him and the kingdom that condemned him.
He did not rest long, and was resurrected by the dark magics that covered the deadlands. Revived as a weak [Zombie Mage] he was cursed to dwell eternally as an unheard and unknown consciousness trapped within the decayed husk of his former body. He would be a prisoner in his own corpse, never able to control any facet of his being and made to wait for his prison to be torn apart by Paladins and Crusaders.
For over 20 years he screamed with no mouth and struggled with no limbs, until the day he lost all hope and in a desperate moment he prayed. Not to Lugus, but to the only thing he truly understood. He prayed to Death to give him the chance to claim his vengeance. His prayer was answered as Death itself came to his undead husk the next day. Death had manifested in a physical form and called itself Morterran. Morterran had felt his anger and rage and wondered who could have such a lust for revenge.
His divine master took him and altered him, he had become something every necromancer aspires to be. He had become a [Lich] and better yet, he had been imbued with such power that he had become an [Ancient Lich]. Then he was astonished to discover that Death had even greater plans for him as it gave him a name. It was common knowledge that named monsters have exponentially more power than non-named ones. There was a catch, to name a monster took a great amount of [Mana] from a person and the more powerful the monster was the more [Mana] was required to give it a name. Most named monsters were either created by nature, or by people who usually died when their entire soul was used to name the monster.
Kel’thuzad didn’t know what his name meant, but knew it had a powerful origin. It felt majestic and imposing and his new form of [Arch Lich] after being named was truly a sight to behold.
Kel’thuzad floated away from the balcony of his floating fortress and back into the depths of his home. He had to make sure that his God knew that the Citadel had begun crumbling from within. He made his way into his inner sanctum and placed his skeletal hand on an orb that was placed on his desk. Focusing his will, he connected the energies of the orb in front of him to the being he sought to communicate with. If it were for a conference, he would have connected to another [Orb of Communication] but he only withed to commune with one entity and therefore broadcasting an illusion of his appearance was unnecessary.
After several seconds, he reached past the voices and minds that surrounded him and found his Lord. However, his connection was unable to be established and felt like it was being strained by something. In a panic and fearing for the safety of his master he quickly sought Death’s second-in-command, Lady Nisha, only to discover her right next to his lord and not in his same condition.
His call went through and he asked in a panic, “My lady, I have attempted to call our master but I was blocked. What is happening? Is Death alright?”
“Our God is fine, Kel.” Nisha responded.
Kel’thuzad did not like it when he was called that but knew he had no chance of making her stop using the nickname.
“Then what is going on? I have news regarding the Pyrite City!” (Kel’thuzad)
“Pyrite City? That is a new one. Good job, now we have something else to refer to that place as without calling it Lugusia…” Nisha joked.
“THIS IS SERIOUS! I must speak with our Lord! I know not for how long we will be able to capitalize on this information!”(Kel’thuzad)
Kel’thuzad was getting irritated. Nisha was his Lord’s right hand and his self-proclaimed “greatest work”. She could get away with almost anything because of her connection to his lord, Morterran.
“My beloved is busy with something that will seal the fate of the Golden Turd. After all,whether or not the Undead Legions can breach the walls will be irrelevant once the Dragon Goddess is raised!”
Kel’thuzad was stunned. Did she really say that Morterran was raising a god as one of his undead? Sure, Tiamat was never a true god to begin with but rather a very ancient and very powerful dragon. But still, just how much power did his God have? Was it possible for him to kill and raise Lugus? Was that his end goal, to raise every god this world had ever known as a member of a new pantheon?
“Now please tell me, in lieu of my beloved. What is this news that we must capitalize on?”
Nisha’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he replied, “After 2 week of banging their shields and screeching to high heaven, our Legions have finally gotten the citizens of the Citadel to see their doom. There are riots in the streets, mass panic and anarchy runs rampant throughout the lower level. I humbly request permission to initiate the second phase of the plan.”
There was a pause, as if Nisha was considering something that perhaps only she and Morterran knew before she spoke in what sounded like a twisted mockery of an elderly male’s voice.
“Do it.” (Nisha)
“By your will, your highness.” (Kel’thuzad)
There was a war raging in the streets of Lugusia, the Golden City. It was a war of fear and desperation, where slaves rebelled against their masters and where anyone with a shred of a connection to the priesthood was viewed as a traitor. There was a time when such things would never be considered in even the most outlandish fantasy, but that time was seemingly a distant and foreign thing. The End Ties had come, and the clergy had abandoned to people to their fate. For all they knew, the entirety of the clergy has fled to some remote and unknown location to wait out the Age of Demons, taking only their personal affects and leaving them to suffer at the hands of the devil. While the poor souls who were believed by the mob to have connections with the traitorous clergy were being treated to kangaroo courts and swift death, the slaves who had long been oppressed rose in rebellion.
For the past month, they had been preparing for this, worshipping the God of Death in secret and gathering any weapon or weapon-like thing they could find. Even before they started preparing, they had been introduced to the power and mercy of a god who sought to not only free them, but give them a chance at revenge against their former masters. While they had kept a convincing front, allowing their oppressors to believe that they were docile and obedient to Lugus and his teachings, they helped the agents of Morterran spread hidden caches of weapons and armor as well as carved runes that would allow the Legions of the Dead to teleport behind the walls without having to breach them.
The best part of the plan was that the gladiators and their trainers were part of their rebellion as well. In a time, long past, it was exceedingly rare for a gladiator to die in combat or to his wounds. Nowadays, things were very different, as gladiators were butchered in almost unsustainable numbers for the amusement of the crowds. Both the trainers and the gladiators resented this. The trainers had to churn out fighters of better and better quality faster than they could keep up with demand and the gladiators themselves were unsurprisingly averse to dying in agony and a pool of their own blood alongside several hundred of their fellows for no real reason.
When the rebellion broke out, the ration of free people to slaves was roughly 4/6 including the gladiators and their trainers. As chaos reigned in the lower levels of Lugusia, the upper levels had no real problems. The personal guard of the high nobles and clergy who lived there had killed the rebels before they could fully organize themselves. The nobles were still quite concerned, but were ultimately placated by the empty promises of the clergy. They had been told that all of this was meant to kill off the undesirables and parasites who had been leeching off the pure and virtuous families who lived in the second ring. They were assured that everything was going per plan and that they would be safe and sound.
In a matter of days, they would find out how hollow those promises were.
Author Note: Hey there, everyone! I hope you are enjoying this! If you have any criticisms for this Chapter or ideas for the next arc, please comment below. I want to give you the title of the next arc and where it takes place, but I’ll only do so if you want me to. So, if enough people want spoilers, I will oblige. Remember, your comments will decide whether you find out what happens after the Prologue arc “The Last Days of Mundus”!