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About Sabachthan

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    Senior Member

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  • website
    http://www.houseofghant.com/
  1. You don't have to know everything. You just know what you are supposed to know. Real Life Guardians of Sanctuary are supposed to know to guard Sanctuary's Garrison. Everybody knows that! Guardians don't notice it's cold out. They don't hide under the pelts and go back to sleep. No, they guard Sanctuary! Peace, Justice, Mercy, and Sacrifice! That means you jump out of bed when the creepy wolves start howling and growling and everybody starts yelling and fighting. You help defend. Because you know that. That's justice! You know wolves, because you are a member of the Horde. Wolves and the Horde go way back. You can ride one, like Thrall! You can be one with the spirit of the wolf, which makes you fast. Wolves are fast. That's why you ride them. Like Thrall! That's why you have to run after Guild Mistress Julilee when she's shouting and yelling for everybody, because Guild Mistress Julilee has to be faster than the wolves. You know they're not good wolves because you know wolves. These are bad guys. That's all you have to know. You don't have to know everything. You just know friends, and friends help. They know how to help when the wolves bite or scratch and blood spurts and skin and muscles look like a noodle cup you dropped in the dirt. You know how to send them to the hurt people so they won't be hurt anymore. You know the earth can shield Guild Mistress Julilee. That means it will guard her, just like a Guardian of Sanctuary should! Everybody is friends with Sanctuary, because Sanctuary is Peace. Please, Earth Spirit, go protect Guild Mistress Julilee!
  2. Sabachthan

    Debris

    (( From here, done nine months ago in the spirit of this thread, and so copied here: )) Tucked away within the hills of the eastern plaguelands, broken-down and forgotten like a long-soured well, the rubble of the manor gripped the hillside in stubborn defiance of the crevasse below. Even at the height of the House, it had been little more than a ruin, but now its tumbled-down stones were a hazy memory of what it had been, leaving little wall or roof to shield the rooms from the angry sky, with the lone exception of the main hall. Here, the highly vaulted ceiling rained down leaks and darkness, the broken windows doing little to pierce the shadows. As if by malicious irony, the room grew darkest at the hearth, where Sabachthan sits in soot and grime, his two baleful eyes glaring out over the wreckage like glowing coals. Rising above the destruction of their House had been the vision of his elder brother, Netheryn. The others had all deferred to Netheryn’s leadership, his strong voice unifying them into directed vengeance. In those days, battle had waged across the land, and the House rose up with the intention of seizing entire territories from the alliance who had betrayed them. They laid ambushes and executed strategies that allowed them to overcome foes of greater strength. Without hesitation they followed Netheryn’s commands, willing to sacrifice themselves for the House. But as the House grew in power, the world changed. Attention shifted away from the old conflicts and toward new realms. New sources of power allowed a single individual to wield might enough to level entire towns. With nothing but wreckage left in the old world, no enemies stayed to fight, and Netheryn had withdrawn in disgust. Without his elder brother’s vision to direct them, the House disintegrated before Sabachthan’s eyes. In battle, no one followed the orders of the commander, each warrior thinking himself strongest and wisest—the fools. The cohesion of their forces, once their defining and most formidable characteristic, had disappeared with Netheryn. New goals and motives of treasures and power drew members away from battle and into crags and keeps, wherein they lost even their identity. All forgot themselves and drifted away one by one, until only Sabachthan and ashes remained. Not even the rats stayed on without Netheryn to rally them. Netheryn had always been a short-sighted fool. Sabachthan sighed, closed his eyes, and then only darkness and ashes remained.
  3. (( Wrote this up for an assignment in my MGT-605, Leadership and Organizations, class. Thought I would share it here, for old time's sake. (( There are lots of times when I miss hanging out with you guys and your creative characters. ))
  4. Tucked away within the hills of the eastern plaguelands, broken-down and forgotten like a long-soured well, the rubble of the manor gripped the hillside in stubborn defiance of the crevasse below. Even at the height of the House, it had been little more than a ruin, but now its tumbled-down stones were a hazy memory of what it had been, leaving little wall or roof to shield the rooms from the angry sky, with the lone exception of the main hall. Here, the highly vaulted ceiling rained down leaks and darkness, the broken windows doing little to pierce the shadows. As if by malicious irony, the room grew darkest at the hearth, where Sabachthan sits in soot and grime, his two baleful eyes glaring out over the wreckage like glowing coals. Rising above the destruction of their House had been the vision of his elder brother, Netheryn. The others had all deferred to Netheryn’s leadership, his strong voice unifying them into directed vengeance. In those days, battle had waged across the land, and the House rose up with the intention of seizing entire territories from the alliance who had betrayed them. They laid ambushes and executed strategies that allowed them to overcome foes of greater strength. Without hesitation they followed Netheryn’s commands, willing to sacrifice themselves for the House. But as the House grew in power, the world changed. Attention shifted away from the old conflicts and toward new realms. New sources of power allowed a single individual to wield might enough to level entire towns. With nothing but wreckage left in the old world, no enemies stayed to fight, and Netheryn had withdrawn in disgust. Without his elder brother’s vision to direct them, the House disintegrated before Sabachthan’s eyes. In battle, no one followed the orders of the commander, each warrior thinking himself strongest and wisest—the fools. The cohesion of their forces, once their defining and most formidable characteristic, had disappeared with Netheryn. New goals and motives of treasures and power drew members away from battle and into crags and keeps, wherein they lost even their identity. All forgot themselves and drifted away one by one, until only Sabachthan and ashes remained. Not even the rats stayed on without Netheryn to rally them. Netheryn had always been a short-sighted fool. Sabachthan sighed, closed his eyes, and then only darkness and ashes remained.
  5. Sabachthan would say, "Death ... is only the beginning...."
  6. Cataclysm has dropped and I am not yet fabulously independently wealthy with loads and loads of free time. *not back* Which makes me sad, because I would love to muck about with Skibba.
  7. I came to this forum to express this same thought.
  8. Your women no longer look like men! (And without them being caricatures of the female form!) I'll know who to come to if I need a picture with bones. Of course I think all of these pictures were great.
  9. The blade sliced easily through Sabachthan's robes and undead skin, sliding between his ribs fully to the hilt. The undead priest's right hand dropped instinctively to the wound, but latched onto Evanthe's wrist instead. Then his yellow-burning eyes swiveled to the elf. His left arm shot out and took the elf by her thin neck, his bony fingers now also choking physically where only Shadow had been choking before. He brought his baleful expression close to Evanthe's face, his lips parted in a feral growl as his words hissed over rotted teeth. "Can you not see that I am currently indisposed?!"
  10. [some more thoughts in the dark.] As the wave of Shadow suffocated the spirit and squashed the mind and wracked the body of the orc, a tendril broke off and wound its way up one of the catatonic elf's legs. Swollen and pulsing like an engorged leech, the Shadow slid up and around Evanthe's slender frame and neck and pushed into her mouth. And so the only response to the orc's plea came in the voice of Sabachthan Pendazr. "'Help'?" he sneered. His dead feet crunched quickly over the dead grass. "It was exactly such a request that precipitated this night. Twice over! 'Help'!" He kicked the orc in the side as the Shadow continued to roil about his body. "Your indiscriminate acceptance of help has been your very downfall. To think that such a pathetic being has caused me this much trouble! Suffer and die, wretch. There is no help for you now."
  11. Sabachthan? Welcome, welcome! So lovely of you to join us! Phuh! You thought to control one who controls such power? ...Control is a strong word. Mmhmm. What a smart little boy you are. Enough! Silence! Bind her! Sabachtha, this is no time to live out one of your fantasies, even if we are in your mind! And you stop your bothering! This is no time for your games, when we should be crushing that-- I will crush him, but not while I am having to maintain the balance here with her intrusion. My, my, dear Sabachtan. I'd thought you'd rather enjoy my intrusion. Better than conversing with yourself, yes? Now be a good boy and submit. Don't be a fool. Do you really think -- what are you doing?! Stop! She is such a lovely match for me! What, with the mastery of runestones, and now this... it's practically a paved road. Why don't you let me just-- I will not allow it! Destroy her. She now knows, or will figure it out. You have told us that much power has been toppled because of boasting and revelation before complete culmination, and you insist it is not yet time. Hmm, indeed! I understand your fascination with such a beautiful tool, but she has long proven no interest in our purposes and now she has become an obstacle. Allow a simple release and I will-- Silence! I will bind her myself. There is no time! The monkey will come round and destroy your body while you are fiddling with this. Complain to your cohort, it is not my preferred option either. Oh come now, Sabachtha, you are not thinking clearly. You never do with her. With any luck, this lie of an infatuation and none else will stick in her memory when she releases her spell. But she cannot! Not unless.... What am I not seeing? How soon you forget that which has embarrassed you in the past: My Shadows are still at their autonomous work.
  12. Sabachthan blinked at the tree's shape. It grew in two directions. Most like, its trunk had been split by lightning. A giant amongst the grasses and shrubs had a higher potential for heavenly destruction, after all. Retarded by lack of water, it grew gnarled and twisted--but it grew. That it grew at all was a sign of its power. Larger, more reaching, its leaves stretched up toward the sky. The White Lady shone down on the plains, giving a faint luminescence here and there amidst the grass, so that the tree's shape reached Sabachthan's eyes in dark relief, as if the tree itself were made of shadow. Sabachthan blinked. He reached about his mind for something to hold on to. He felt a ribbon of rage. He seized it. Sabachthan blinked and whirled to his left. The stupid orc was still blundering about in his native state of blind confusion. Evanthe's spell must have disoriented Sabachthan before his spell hit home and killed him. Sabachthan ignored the voice in his head advising him to consider her a threat to be silenced first. He was not done with the orc. The blast of Shadow might have ended the orc's mind immediately, but the elf's reactions had been quicker than its required preparation. Yet Sabachthan had another option to destroy the orc's mind, one that acted more slowly yet could begin in an instant. He could see Evanthe preparing her spell. He could see the aggression in her stance. She was preparing something big. He did not care. Sabachthan extended his arm toward the pair, a concentration of Void-tinged arcane shooting out from his palm and arcing like lightning to the orc's skull. Sabachthan continued to channel the energy, wave after wave slicing into whatever little grey matter might lay within that skull. Only several seconds more and he would -- The White Lady shone down on three figures standing amidst the stark landscape. Two, an elf and a corpse of a man, stood still as statues, their glowing eyes as sightless as the knotholes on the nearby bifurcated tree, their unmoving lips as silent as the night's secrets. The third thrashed about in pain and confusion as an unliving wall of Shadow crashed down upon him.
  13. <p>It's got some frustrating inaccuracies, but at least it's familiarizing the internet with history a bit. Thanks for thinking of me. =)</p>

  14. <p>Thought you might find this amusing based on your thoughts in the political forum</p>

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    <div class="ipsEmbeddedVideo"><div><iframe width="480" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/X-buzVjYQvY?feature=oembed" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe></div></div>

  15. The leathery flesh of Sabachthan's reconstructed jaw twisted in a grotesque smile as he watched from the shadows. His own Shadows folded him into the dark fabric of the nightscape -- enough at least to conceal him from these two, their skill sets such as they were. For neither had shown any sign of spotting him, crouched as he was in the tall grass, nor did they seem to have consciously perceived the swiftly enveloping circle of Shadow creeping through the grass as anything other than a soft, innocuous breeze. Though the gathering threat had obviously set them on edge. Sabachthan could hear Evanthe's Word of Power from his hiding place. It was one he knew well. Some Power Words required a balance in order to tap from their magic. This particular one weakened the recipient's soul, barring any further protection for a short time after lest the magics rend the soul apart. In other words, it was Sabachthan's opportunity. He would allow the encircling Shadow to overwhelm the two, asphyxiating the orc, merely silencing the elf to keep her out of his way as he dispelled the orc's shield and attacked him at his feeblest point: his mind. In former times he might have troubled himself to subdue his victim long enough to have him recognize and tremble before the might of his revenge, but such silly prides no longer guided his actions. It mattered not that the resultant shell of a beast with mush for brains would never know who ended him; it merely mattered that Sabachthan knew. A soft hiss flowed through Sabachthan's rotted teeth as he drew breath in expectation. The Shadow lapped at the pair's feet, beginning to boil upward where -- A shrill, alarming beeping cut through the silence of the night. Sabachthan shifted in surprise, which caused the grass under him to crackle. Some sort of machine was going bonkers on the orc's shoulder. The orc gave a little jump into the air, almost as if doing a jig. He had apparently become aware of the situation on the ground. Meanwhile, the green glow of the elf's eyes had turned and locked onto Sabachthan's location. Sabachthan cursed the stars and everything holy, then leaped forward into a run at the both of them. The lurking Shadow launched itself upward just as he, cresting above the pair like a wave threatening to drown them. Meanwhile, Sabachthan muttered the incantations necessary to dispel the shield about the orc, while simultaneously gathering Shadow in his fist to destroy the green monkey's mind.