Distributed Intelligence by Kahlaramah

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Keeper Of Lore
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Distributed Intelligence by Kahlaramah

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Distributed Intelligence

Kahlaramah, November 20, 2006

' oooooohhhhh '

swathed as usual in the fleshcoat covering his stitched; ragdoll
like form_ kahlaramah was slouched upon the back of his skeletal
horse. this mount seems to grow more tired, and more lethargic
with every passing day. and why not_ it has been put through hell
in it's time with the demonologist. however, it has always been
unique and full of welly. so many times; when it's master was
under attack by groups of stronger enemies on faster steeds_ he
was able to evade them by sheer cunning, taking off into the
forests and making his own trails, evading the beasts. and when
those enemies managed to get a good strike in on him, so many
times this skeletal mount would keep right on going, where others
would throw him off to escape. yes.. it only reaffirms that he
was correct in his decision to purchase this one outright, rather
then to summon one of those ridiculous looking felsteeds.

' these magics are expensive, moped. but you will be reincarnated
and made into a beast that you never thought possible. oh yes.. '

they stand near the iron golems in the sweltering heat of the
burning steppes. tonight, only vilrida accompanies him_ the other
felbeings having stayed at the undercity. he ponders as to if
they were ordered to stay there, or if they simply did it by
their own choice_ and can only come up with a blank. a frown was
etched upon his orange painted lips_ this situation is becoming a
bit disturbing.. just who are the puppets, anymore? vilrida's
hand would come to the side of his stitched features, brushing
aside two thick dreadlocks in a sensual caress_ and these
concerns immediately depart from his mind.

everything is just peachy_ these noble creatures now have grown
far greater in power, for his infernal ritual was completed some
time ago, with considerable difficulty. there is but one that
lies ahead - a doomlord, although it seems that he will have to
wait to get on the path to this final minion. for there is this
matter of kahlaramah's ride, and even the demons hypnotic control
have not managed to sway him from this determination to revive
and rebuild the ol'moped. while this creature is one of
indifference to most things, this is a rare matter of affection.

' why do you bother yourself with this beast, kahlaramah. it is
slow, but mobile. use it until it cannot be used more - then
trade it in for another of it's kind. why waste so much money and
time.. you have no need for racing dear.. you need to strengthen
yourself, and strengthen us.. make our circle complete.. so that
we can kill so beautifully '

vilrida's tone sifts through the heatwaves, delicately whispered
to the side of his head. she does know how to manipulate his
priorities, she is fully aware of his sadistic pleasures.

' no, vilrida. we now focus on raising the monetary value that is
required so that i can purchase an epic warhorse. then, i am
going to drain it of it's soul, until it falls over dead.
afterwards, i will caste a soulstone over ol'moped's head here.
then, i will use my soul harvestor to smash and axe his bones -
and bag them up for some foolery rituals later on down the line.
then, i will ressurect this beast of burden's essence into the
stronger animal's corpse. i will not get that 'dreadsteed' you
seem to want so badly, and our circle will do just fine without
it. now.. i can mine dark iron ore now.. the shit sells pretty
damn good in the auction house - i saw offers for up to nine
gold, for just a stack of ten of those things! unsmelted... i
suppose i have to do some annoying adventure to learn how to
smelt it, but why bother, with that kind of cash readily
available as it is? off with us - it is easier to find in the
searing gorge, i do not wish to group together with a bunch of
horde adventurers and bother with blackrock mountain. '

and so the worn out creature would take off at a full gallop,
still as speedy as any other in it's class_ vilrida running along
behind with a murderous glare in those translucent eyes, having
not expected kahlaramah to defy her_ to even order her? the
circle of demons and the necromancer are a distributed
intelligence_ and he has been lapsing into the order as planned.
it is unfortunate that phunuum, gobjub and thangorg are not
present.. however.. she can improvise.. and begins to do so, as
the scent of another draws dangerously near.

it is a rogue, a night elf of it's sixtieth season that suddenly
lunges from above, betraying his hiding spot amidst the rocks.
two burning swords penetrate kahlaramah's fleshcoat, the flaming
ends protruding out of the front of his ribcage, blood and gore
sizzling_ and poison immediately infecting the wound.

' ECK NI KULDOOOOO ' ( common - for the alliance )
the two would tumble off of the skeleton horse and onto the
charred ground of dried magma_ a sneer developing beneath the
bandanna across the elf's face. he would begin twisting the
blades, further destroying the ambush necromancer_ cracking bones
and basically turning his guts into a messy goo. a gurgling
protest escapes from kahlaramah's mouth, however there is still
trickery to be done, even in the last stages of death. a hand
twists from behind, a special signal given with fingers_ and the
elf suddenly begins to run, screaming as a horrible pain sears
through his nervous system, and part of his vitality is
transferred to the necromancer. kahlaramah stands up; still in
the game, but just barely_ immediately taking ahold of his
healthstone and muttering words to regenerate the wounds;
although the poison is still wearing him down. casting fear atop
the death coil spell, and the rogue runs for a few more minutes
as more special hand gestures were made, corrupting his organs
and splitting his nerve endings to produce agony. however, he
suddenly vanishes.

' you whore.. you impudent wench '

vilrida is standing motionless, not aiding the necromancer. the
rogue becomes visible once again, hurting quite badly_ but drinks
a potion to restore his own vitality, and moves in for the kill.
before kahlaramah can immolate him, those vicious blades split
him down the middle_ and he drops, dead.

the rogue would stumble away, cackling while still holding his
stomach as the curses begin to wear off_ his tiger mount coming
down from the cleft, which he jumps upon and rides off into the

never one to forget his soulstone, kahlaramah immediately
ressurects with the majority of his vitality intact_ immediately
casting a spell upon vilrida to cause her to become immobile for
thirty seconds. spitting some blood upon the ground.

' you insolent whore, you would dare turn on me. you may be my
right hand, but i will show you why i am master. '

a murderous grin upon mime's lips, soul link was then caste_ so
that she may absorb a third of the damage taken to him. as the
banishment wears off, she lunges forth, her whip cracking his
face wide open and breaking the skull_ however she stumbles back,
her own face split open as well. and he begins with the special
hand gestures, immediately sending her to run against her will,
while applying immolation, agony and corruption. vilrida delivers
a heavy hit, but does not take one well_ and her body is
destroyed with a final blow from his scythe, splitting her in
half. kahlaramah kicks the mutilated girl form, stepping back and
speaking rather badly through his ruined mouth.

' and for now i will leave you here in the land of fire, so the
buzzards can eat your skin and the worms can wiggle within. you
enjoy that, succubus, for when i ressurect you - your tortures
will make you wish that i had left you here forever. '

sputtering; he would stumble over to the skeletal horse, who
remained dormant throughout the entire play; indifferent, even.
could the same have been said, if it was another demon spawn?
dragging himself onto it's back and covering the gaping wounds
with his fleshcoat, he would once again travel towards the
searing gorge_ a bit more mindful of lurking alliance, now that
his protectors are seemingly his enemies. this will be dealt with
in due time_ and there is no reason not to try and find some of
that ore while he is here - for apparently, it is the very cause
of this rift.
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Keeper Of Lore
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Re: Distributed Intelligence by Kahlaramah

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and some hours later; kahlaramah would be found busy in the
searing gorge_ stuffing the last few chunks of mithril ore into
his leather bags. indeed; some of the dark iron had been found to
plunder in this land, but unfortunately the quantity left much to
be desired. he did have a map that gungorr had recommended, but
this had been folded up and placed in the back pocket hours ago_
for the most part it was misleading. ah well, he did manage to
collect twenty rocks of the stuff, as well as a plentiful supply
of other minerals_ so the night was far from a waste. slinging
the heavy sack over the moped's shoulders before mounting, and he
would head towards the thorium point, dodging the trivial robots
and pausing only to throw a young human over the ledge into the
cauldron. an honorless action for sure_ the funnest kind.

coming to the orc woman and dropping some silver into her bucket
before climbing onto the back of a bat and ascending to the
skies_ ignoring the haughty look that the bitch sends after him.
it's a long flight to the undercity_ humming a perverted little
ditty along the way, staring down at the various borderlands of
azeroth until the creature finally enters the glades_ swooping on
down into the sewers, gliding above the sickly green sludge and
further into the underground depths. a disgusted sound emitted
from the back of his gullet as he dismounts from the creature,
canting his head at the flightmaster who greets him and walking
down the steps_ annoyance present as the pungent aroma of shit
and piss plugs his nostrils, just how is it that rivers of the
stuff flow through here, when the main population consists of
undead beings who no longer evacuate bodily waste? is it the
orcs, trolls and taurens? probably not - their own cities seem to
be clean enough. so what.. do the forsaken go out of the way to
transport the stuff here? why?

his appendages would extend out, fingertips pointing at an
upwards angle, the familiar aura of purplish light radiating out
of the necromancers form as phunuum, thangorg, gobjub and even
the traitorous vilrida, her flesh healed through ressurection -
heavy soulbound chains binding her form_ come forth from each
direction to circle him. ... and moped the steed, after a few
minutes, late but faithful as always burdened with the heavy bag
of minerals. a wordless scowl was sent to the succubus, as he
begins to walk_ the procession following him wordlessly. the
others seem to pay no mind to vilrida's bindings, least none that
he can notice.

firstly coming to the auctioneer, drawing open the bags and
unloading the stones in numbered stacks with a monetary price
scribbled and tagged to each_ a transaction he has become adept
to over the years, that does not take very long. depositing the
last item into the bin before pirouetting like a nazi, and
marching along to the outer circles of the undercity, the
procession still in tow.

' oh, release her kahlaramah! quit with your damn fits, we all
have business! '

gobjub the imp, he never has been one to hold his tongue. it is
just well, an imp's nature. spidery digits on the necromancer's
left hand would curl, the chains that bind vilrida taking an
iridescent gleam_ immediately causing the flesh it is in contact
with to sizzle and begin to melt_ she falls down with a scream,
rolling on the ground_ a chilling effect. phunuum snarls, and
thangorg's stare grows a tad more baleful as kahlaramah snarls, a
gruesome expression beneath that leather strap mask.

' you impudent creatures will learn just who is giving the orders
in this friendship! now, i intend to demonstrate to you fully
that... '

- ' and now, what i am sure that all of the male students have
been waiting for. the succubus. aside from her obvious
capabilities of distraction, she delivers an ample amount of
physical damage... '

the necromancer's lecture is cut off, catching the words of the
warlock trainer who stands nearby the procession outside of a
ritual circle_ with her students on all ends, watching the
demonstration and listening to her speak. ironically enough, she
is demonstrating the virtues of felmagic to them- incidentally,
the lesson has fallen on the subject of the succubus - there is
even one standing within the circle. uncoiling fingers as the
chains on vilrida grow cold again, her screams silenced as she
lays there, gasping and smoking_ the metal already partially
merged with the flesh due to the moment of heat. kahlaramah would
reach down, seizing her by the neck and dragging her
unceremoniously to the circle, rudely showing the she-wizard out
of the way to fall to the floor_ her concentration broken, the
example demon unsummoned. an uneasy murmur goes through the
crowd, all of these magicians young - even the instructor is
obviously no match for him; as she does not retort_ simply
standing to her feet with a sullen expression. the master
demonologist then would drop vilrida's bound form to the ground,
in the middle of the circle.

' begone now, your lesson will have to wait. i have my own
instructions to give now - but hell, why not.. you scrubs are all
aspiring demonologists, right? the name's kahlaramah. the grim
raper - shake the hand that shook the world, bitch... '

chuckling as he extends his hand to the trainer woman, only to
receive a hateful, if frightened, glare. this defiance only
amuses him further; cackling at her refusal as his scarification
adorned head turns, looking at the students as the heel of his
boot rests on vilrida's neck.

' as she was saying, this is a succubus. soon enough, you will
have your own - it really is not as hard as the woman makes it
out to be. you just gotta get the hearts of two good men. ' pure
', although we all know no such thing exists, right? nonetheless,
demons are just as susceptible to the idiotic morals humans
fancied themselves to create. this is a sex demon, for the most
part. female counterpart to the incubus. they kill through it,
luring you in and trapping you in this fashion to an eternity of
lustful service. usually. sounds good, right? yeah - guess there
are worse ways to spend an afterlife. it's why you don't really
-see- a lot of warlocks in azeroth anymore, it takes a lot of
hate or some kind of steadfast determination to keep fighting in
a useless political war when you can just fuck your life away.
but -anyway-, if you are one of those idiots who wants to be a
horde soldier_ whether your just a sadistic freak, or you want
revenge for something the humans did, whatever - the succubus can
be very well serve as your right hand man. er.. woman. she hits
hard as hell, hardest of the minions you can easily summon -
there are two.. even a rumor of a third, that are more powerful.
but they are less easy to call upon - and i do not need to bother
myself explaining their natures to you, it will be a very long
time before you are able to even consider trifling with those
particular forces. if you do at all. '

the black magician titters_ the students and teacher silenced
completely before his unexpected demonstration, in truth_ it is
like a demigod of sorts stands before them, so casually rolling
these secrets off of his tongue, throwing out information of
secret rituals like old women exchange baking recipies. he would
sneer; fingers coiling again_ vilrida's scream immediately rising
above the usual ruckus of the undercity_ although only those in
the immediate vicinity pay it any mind, tortured howls are rather
common, especially in the warlocks' part of the magic circle. her
flesh reddening, the chains gleaming as the flesh on her body
melts, smoking rising from her form as her yells increase, so

' can you smell the burning meat, scrubs? and now to the focal
point of our lesson. demons -cannot- be trusted. they do not
serve you out of loyalty, they serve you because you are more
powerful then they are, and you will hurt them if they do not. if
given the opportunity, they will systematically degenerate you,
and -you- will become the minion! not that it would bother me to
see any of you devoured - but i see no reason that you cannot
learn from this. the succubus is a creature of vanity, first and
foremost. because the very root of it's nature is a perpetual
loneliness, it devours men and sometimes women sexually for
companionship. it's beauty and vanity are crucial to it, and how
do you punish a succubus that is not obeying you properly, or
kahlaramah forbid... develops a sense of independence? you strip
it of this beauty! as you can see, her body is becoming quite
sweltered and ugly now, soon it will be grotesque. i do this with
a unique, bastardized form of holy energy that i harnassed
earlier today by murdering a paladin. it was imbued into the
chain that you now see wrapped around this wenches body. there
are many uses for a soulshard you see, it always houses fragments
of the attributes of the one that you created it from! you young
warlocks are probably so naive, blindly worshiping demonic
energies without realizing that you can in fact - to a limited
degree, harness powers from both ends of the spectrum '

beneath his foot, vilrida''s flesh is beginning to light ablaze_
she writhes and struggles, the chains digging into her liquefied
skin with every motion_ a strange mixtion of radiance
illuminating the ritual circle. at this point the students and
teacher turn to flee, unable to comprehend this bizarre
spellcasting of conflicting energies. so heated with exaltation
and foreign energies with this experimentation, kahlaramah begins
to sway on his feet, staggering back - his mind rupturing, blood
streaming out of his eyes as the luminescence begins to fade. the
last thing he senses before losing awareness completely is
thangorg's large blue arms coming around his, restraining him as
he falls limp to the sound of vilrida's screams.
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