The guy who bolds the title text:
Undeath and Taxes
Prologue Chapter 7: All It Takes Is….
Henry had done as was instructed and had etched the runic symbol into multiple places throughout the mansion and its grounds. During his visits to other households he had managed to find the time to scratch the same symbol into the walls of wine cellars and other out of the way places. While Henry had no idea what these sigils were supposed to do, he did understand that they would “bring a great misfortune and calamity upon the decadent nobles”, whatever that meant. He honestly couldn’t see how a bunch of carvings would do anything. After all, the nobility knew well enough that the “holy symbols” of the Lugusian Church did jack-all, so what would a bunch of weird doodles do? After three days, he had completed the task assigned to him and made his way to the wine cellar in Reginald’s mansion. He went up to the first sigil he had carved and spoke the words that would “bring great misfortune upon his false master.” He understood the first part, as it was in the Common Tongue that everyone spoke, it was the second part that he couldn’t understand as it seemed to be in a completely foreign language.
“I am the Key. I am the Gate. I am the Key and the Gate. Opinsezzamimuthyrfohkyr!” (Henry)
Much to Henry’s surprise, the sigil began to glow and shimmer until the very wall it was on began to distort and reshape itself. Soon, there was a gaping hole where the symbol used to be and as Henry peered through, he saw the “misfortune” that awaited his master. He saw an ocean of heavily armored corpses and Beastmen and elves and all sorts of other creatures all looking at him like he was an insect about to be crushed underfoot. As fear quickly turned to abject terror, Henry fell backwards, only to be caught by a large, humanoid someone or something behind him. As he slowly turned his head to face the being which had caught him, he heard the same voice that had instructed him more than three days ago.
“Why are you afraid? You need not fear them, they are here to liberate you from the usurper. Rejoice that soon the servants shall become the masters! You have succeeded in your task and as a reward, you will be the first of this tier to overthrow your master and take their possessions for your own! Remember how you were treated, and treat your new servants as you wished to be treated. Treat them with respect and dignity, and I will not have them supplant you as you shall supplant your master.” (Morterran’s Voice)
“A-a-are you…?” (Henry)
“No. I am the will and voice of Morterran. This is merely a puppet that I am using to spread my will to those not bound to me by the ties of Death. Think of it as my Avatar, if you will.” (Morterran’s Avatar)
Henry was in awe. He didn’t know why he was in awe and hanging on every word of what was effectively a well-dressed, oversized skeleton, but he was in awe nonetheless. It was almost like he was gazing upon the ultimate lifeform which was, ironically enough, a corpse. This was astounding because this was merely the proxy of someone that must be exponentially more powerful and majestic. If this mere proxy had this much charisma, this much of an overwhelming presence, then how could any being withstand the true power of Morterran? It was clear now, everything was now so clear. The proxy of Lugus, the Pope, never had this kind of charisma because Lugus was a lie! The true god of this world was and will always be Deus Imperator Morterran!
Henry fell to his knees before the Avatar and with joyous tears in his eyes and hands clasped in prayer he barely got out the words,
“All Hail God Emperor Morterran!” (Henry)
This Avatar was but one of many. Just one proxy of Origin, each of them greatly weaker than Origin, to the point that even if they combined their power they could never even match 1% of Origin’s power. They served to bring Origin’s will and voice to places where Origin could not or would not be. Avatars were “near carbon copies” of Origin, whatever that meant. They had copies of Origin’s memories and ideals and behaviors but were ultimately dependent on the will of Origin to exist. If they were without use, they would cease to be. This was as it should be.
This Avatar was tasked with providing morale and leadership to the force besieging Lugusia. That was but one of its objectives, however. It was also tasked to eliminate anything that could block the progress of the siege. Therefore, when the armies of Origin were blocked by stubborn resistance that prevented them from entering the second tier of Lugusia, this Avatar acted as others had in similar situations. The objective was simple, find someone who felt poorly about their current situation and, as Origin instructed, “exploit the hell out of them”. This manner of action had secured almost all the current servants of Origin. Aside from Origin’s First Creation, not even one had ever seen the true appearance of Origin, nor did any of them know that the Avatars weren’t Origin being in multiple places at once.This was for the best, as Origin had predicted that its true appearance was too great and powerful to be seen even by those it trusted to serve loyally. This apparently was of great distress to Origin, and this feeling carried over into the Avatars.
Relatively soon after securing a traitor in the second tier, the gateways the traitor had constructed were operational. As a formality, the Avatar was the first to use the first one constructed. As the gateway opened, the Avatar could see a tall, white haired elderly human.
“Oh, Great… Here we go again…” The Avatar thought.
The Avatar knew how this would play out, as even the greatest heroes couldn’t stand up to the massive charisma that Origin had imbued them with. Sure enough, it was only a short back and forth later that this poor old man fell to his knees and said the words that made the Avatar cringe.
“Every. Freaking. TIME! We don’t want to be GOD!” The Avatar screamed in its head.
The Avatar knew better than to say something like that aloud. The last time one of the Avatars said, “I am not a God”, Kel’thuzad got it into his skull that Origin was some kind of God of Gods.
“The backdoor is open. All of Origin’s forces are pouring through and victory over the second tier is….”
The Avatar stopped before he could complete the thought.
“Good, I caught myself. Don’t want to raise a flag. Whatever, ‘raise a flag’ means… Now I might as well respond to this person, just got to remember to act as I normally act to Origin’s subordinates…” (Morterran’s Avatar)
Henry couldn’t tell how much time had passes since he fell to his knees. Had it been seconds? Maybe it had been minutes, or perhaps even hours had passed. What snapped him out of his trance was the Avatar of God speaking to him.
“Henry, you have done my righteous forces a great service. Speak your desire, and if it be acceptable to me then I shall grant your wish. Do you desire wealth? Do you desire women, or perhaps authority over others? Or do you desire something… more?” (Morterran’s Avatar)
Henry though for a moment. The only reason he had done what God had willed was because he wanted revenge for the previous Master and his family who had been murdered by that tub of lard who dared to have the same blood as the Master. Now Henry was faced with the realization that his petty revenge could become a way to be reunited with his Master and his family! Henry mentally debated which option was better; Kill the pig or revive the Master and the Master’s Family. In the end, there was only one choice that made sense.
“Please, My God! Restore the previous Master of the Noble house that I serve to life, along with his family! I will ask for that alone, and nothing more! Even if you must take my life in exchange for theirs, I care not! The previous Master and his family were good people. They will serve you, I am sure of it! Thus, I beseech thee, Almighty! Grant my…!” (Henry)
“Enough.” (Morterran’s Avatar)
Henry was interrupted by the Avatar.
“Your dedication to righteousness has been made more than clear. I see through your mind how they were and I am most impressed that they managed to see through the Church’s propaganda and lies. I will grant your wish, but know this, that which has died can only ever be restored to a partial life at best. They will live, but their life will be different to what it was so long ago. Is this acceptable?” (Morterran’s Avatar)
“YES! I will serve them and you no matter what their appearance! Even should they be returned as rotten cadavers I will sing your praises forever for returning them from their untimely end!” (Henry)
“Then so be it. All that begins must end, only to eventually begin again. [MugenNacht der Untoten]!” (Morterran’s Avatar)
A chill ran through the wine cellar and the wall to Henry’s right began to crack. Henry could see a pale greenish-blue glow coming from the cracks and as the cracks grew bigger Henry could see a hidden area behind the wall, big enough for several people to be stuffed in. The fake wall finally shattered to dust and Henry saw the skeletal remains of his former master and his family, chained and manacled to the wall behind the place where the fake wall once stood. Slowly, the blue-green energy began to weave itself around the bones, slowly putting them in place and acting as flesh and blood and organs and ligaments. Soon the phantasmal energy had sculpted itself into a prefect likeness of the old master and his kin. Then the energy formed their clothes, first appearing s burlap rags and then transforming into formal wear before attacking the chains and manacles that bound them.
As the energy finally disappeared, Henry went over to his master. The master looked incredibly pale, but otherwise was perfectly fine aside from the glowing energy that danced over and out of him from time to time. Henry’s master’s eyes slowly opened, revealing that his once brown eyes had become colored the same as the energy that frolicked around him.
“Henry? Is that you? Did that brat get you too, old friend?” (Henry’s Master)
“No, but I have made a deal with God to get you and the family back!” (Henry)
“Lugus?” (Henry’s Master)
“No, someone who actually cares and will help us get back what was taken! Meet the True God of this world, God Emperor Morterran!” Henry said and gestured to the Avatar.
“Yes. With Him at our backs, we could make that bastard son of mine pay dearly for his transgressions… Thank you, O Lord, for granting us this second chance! We intend to make the most of it!” (Henry’s Master)