Malek the Paladin

"It is not often a man sees his own corpse, it is a sobering experience."

[oldsarafanrelic]

End of a Hunt

Malek pierced his glaive through the vampire, its hardened hide had no hope to the blessed steel nor his own strength. From pectoral to shoulder blade, the Sarafan Lord twisted and worked through as the creature hissed and screamed in the sweet agony. Its claws swung but couldn’t reach its killer, whose cool steel-grey eyes glared unblinking. 

“May the One God provide the mercy that you had no found in this life.” He prayed, ripping his weapon back with the hot sizzling of cursed blood through a wound that refused to reknit as it would by a lesser blade. The walking corpse vomited the blackened vigor that it stole from three unfortunate victims the night before, unaware of the holy man hunting it down through the Termogant Forest.

No man would dare enter these woods but he. 

Shocked eyes stared at Malek, whether in disbelief that death was still a possibility in its perceived immortality or it would still be prayed to in its heinous existence. Either way, its blood was poisoned and functions were slowed from fighting as fiercely. A heart as the warrior-priest swept his weapon in one sharp, simplistic arc. Its head sent flying and body jerking like a insect, swinging and walking in lost coordination. 

Malek stepped to the side, watching it before impaling the vampire’s corpse through its squirting back-wound and pierced the black heart. A screech through severed vocals and ether, the beast’s body stiffened as if in rigorous mortis. All of its will gone. 

A hymn of prayer as he caressed his heft’s length, its sacred glyphs glowing and released the holy light through the blade. The body burning inside out to a flash of sudden embers. 

“Paladin!” A voice called out, beckoning Malek to glance over in militant swiftness. One of this fellow priests approached by horseback, the paladin’s own barded mare following with. “Ah, thank you, Justina. I feared she ran too far in when the vampire attacked us.” 

“Nay, my Paladin. She had came onto us, managed to save Lance and Wales.” 

Malek whirled his glaive to the side, feeling the crumbling skull crushing under his boot as he approached the two. Palm cupping the mare’s cheek, “Once more, you provide us strength, Lady Mary.” The proud horse nickered, a beautiful gift from Lady Ceres, Guardianess of Nature. The very same woman who sent him onto the vampire for ‘corrupting her beautiful land’. 

The sins these monsters commit on the people and Nosgoth herself was appeal. The only tear he shall shed for them is the evil that roused them all from their rightful judgement. One day, that winged devil high in the mountains will have his due...

One day.

[oldsarafanrelic]

I almost forgot when the Sarafan was once seen as ‘sorcerer-priests’.

[icpe]

legacy of kain,  doodles #79

[oldsarafanrelic]

Paladin Decree

Malek stands in front of the assembly of inquisitors, crusaders, and priest. The Lord-Paladin stared down at every face he demanded in the courtyard. He was so low-brow he refused to hear his legendary helmet for this. His dark eyes full of emotion and the recently shaven face fierce, armoured from neck to toe. 

"There has been an imposter of me...I want him - or her - found. I want them before me. I want closure. Even if it means leaving Sister Rosanna's cookies out as bait." 

Dumah gasped.

[oldsarafanrelic]

Returning to the Stronghold from Heathen Cleansing

I sure hope things are going right in the stronghold...

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

Be good, Raziel... - a decree from the Paladin

“As if you have the gall to insinuate otherwise.”

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

oldsarafanrelic‌:

The shape of Malek stood before the furious Wraith, tall and imposing yet slender like the crucifixes that once stalked onto the Sarafan’s killing fields. Silence and immobile besides the flowing dreads of his scalp-braided crest. 

“It would not…but at least, I would have tried.” The Sarafan Lord started to fade as away to a breeze’s push. “Knowing the truth, my Second. Would you?”

Raziels white eyes widened, watching as the breeze seemed to dissipate the visage of Malek, he appeared to have shrugged off his festering rage for a moment in favor of shock, assuming the other was leaving. 

He darted forward, clawed hand extended in order to try and take hold of the other’s wrist, unknowing if he would simply pass through him or he’d be able to grip him in a feeble attempt to get the former Sarafan to stay. “Wait!”

[oldsarafanrelic]

The talons reached for him and in the motion, a hand caught the Wraith’s head and softly ran through his hair in such familiarity. 

“Soon...we will meet again, Raziel. Just be good.” 

Malek’s voice becoming hoarse as his strength in the physical realm seemed to fade, unable to hold this far from the Pillars and became immaterial like a crumbling dream.

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

Be good, Raziel... - a decree from the Paladin

“As if you have the gall to insinuate otherwise.”

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

oldsarafanrelic‌:

“Kain…the vampire whelp.” He mused as if he forgot the creature that literally sat upon the base of the fallen Pillars. “Sadly, he has a destiny beyond what you see, Boy.” 

The very term seemed to ring deeper than it should like hearing a teacher’s nickname after years apart. 

“It would have ended Moebius’ toying at least and perhaps, changed grand many things that he set into motion. He and that Thing that he speaks to.” Casted into the great Void by Vorador in their duel, it took him many decades to claw his way back into some form of reality. However, he had the distinct displeasure of feeling it. Its tendrils writhing and hunting for him in the dark. Its booming, omnipresent voice whispering things to him.

“You refer to that festering wretch that resides in the very heart of this world, the very catalyst in which Nosgoth decays, the one so pronounced god who in turn, snatched me from the Abyss in order to reanimate me as some ghoul!?” There were clear malicious tones in the wraiths voice, distinct hate for the elder god that his former teacher and superior had brought into the conversation. “But I cannot help but feel doubt from your words, it would have changed nothing.”

[oldsarafanrelic]

The shape of Malek stood before the furious Wraith, tall and imposing yet slender like the crucifixes that once stalked onto the Sarafan’s killing fields. Silence and immobile besides the flowing dreads of his scalp-braided crest. 

“It would not...but at least, I would have tried.” The Sarafan Lord started to fade as away to a breeze’s push. “Knowing the truth, my Second. Would you?”

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

Be good, Raziel... - a decree from the Paladin

“As if you have the gall to insinuate otherwise.”

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

oldsarafanrelic‌:

“The first time I looked upon you, I thought it was a hellish trick…” The spirit mused, shuddering between realms. ‘You was worth all that trouble that day. All of those lives lost.” The Paladin’s halberd lifting slightly, its blade’s tip hovering with the misty trails of its spectral nature. It seemed so real. He seemed so real as if he never truly died from his mortal combat with his Arch-Enemy. 

“If I had known, I would have left Moebius with you immediately. Had I known…look what he have done.”

“Are you implying you would have left the time streamer with me in order to save me from myself?” Raziels eyebrow perked in question, his hand flexing by his side and he observed Malek for a moment longer. “And to what end would that have served? how would it have changed anything? Kain would still have gotten his grubby hands on our noble corpses one way or another even if it was not I to deal the finishing blow.”

The wraith wanted to touch, more so out of curiosity that needed to be sated but he kept his hands to himself and his heels firmly dug into the dirt.

[oldsarafanrelic]

“Kain...the vampire whelp.” He mused as if he forgot the creature that literally sat upon the base of the fallen Pillars. “Sadly, he has a destiny beyond what you see, Boy.” 

The very term seemed to ring deeper than it should like hearing a teacher’s nickname after years apart. 

“It would have ended Moebius’ toying at least and perhaps, changed grand many things that he set into motion. He and that Thing that he speaks to.” Casted into the great Void by Vorador in their duel, it took him many decades to claw his way back into some form of reality. However, he had the distinct displeasure of feeling it. Its tendrils writhing and hunting for him in the dark. Its booming, omnipresent voice whispering things to him.

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

Be good, Raziel... - a decree from the Paladin

“As if you have the gall to insinuate otherwise.”

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

oldsarafanrelic‌:

Where the ghoulish twicedamned protege of his turned, the ether-length of a long blessed blade touched under the shape of the Wraith’s upper jaw and hissed softly at the damp-looking mantle that served as his cowl. Touching the cheek and firmly, in an odd half-real way, tilted the former vampire’s head to look into the vision of the legendary Malek the Paladin. The slayer of countless broods in his height of infamous legends, the cursed protector of the slain Circle of Nine, and now an avatar made into shape by unyielding spite and the world’s unrestrained Conflict. 

“Oh how you would weep if your former visage saw you now.”

Raziel tilted his head at the ensuing sentiment and the touching, unsure of its purpose and what Malek wished to achieve by it, though his head tilted in turn with the movement, all the while his startling white eyes narrowing in scrutiny at his words.

More so habit than in self-defense the reaver manifested down his arm, the spectral spiral of vivid white’s and purples curling around his palm, his hand rose to lift his cowl back over his nose that had unintentionally slipped a little. “You know just as much as I do that my arrogant and unbearable former self would scoff at the notion…”

[oldsarafanrelic]

“The first time I looked upon you, I thought it was a hellish trick...” The spirit mused, shuddering between realms. ‘You was worth all that trouble that day. All of those lives lost.” The Paladin’s halberd lifting slightly, its blade’s tip hovering with the misty trails of its spectral nature. It seemed so real. He seemed so real as if he never truly died from his mortal combat with his Arch-Enemy. 

“If I had known, I would have left Moebius with you immediately. Had I known...look what he have done.”

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

Be good, Raziel... - a decree from the Paladin

“As if you have the gall to insinuate otherwise.”

[oldsarafanrelic]

“I do not insinuate.”

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

“MALEK!? is that you!? show yourself!”

[oldsarafanrelic]

The voice, distant yet so close, as if a memory caught in the empty northern wind caressing from the Pillars’ tomb. “Even with your body ruined and face cowled, you are utterly distinctive. I am almost amused…” 

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

The wraith whizzes around on his heels attempting to locate the source of the voice but to no avail. “As is your voice if my memory serves me correctly.”

[oldsarafanrelic]

Where the ghoulish twicedamned protege of his turned, the ether-length of a long blessed blade touched under the shape of the Wraith’s upper jaw and hissed softly at the damp-looking mantle that served as his cowl. Touching the cheek and firmly, in an odd half-real way, tilted the former vampire’s head to look into the vision of the legendary Malek the Paladin. The slayer of countless broods in his height of infamous legends, the cursed protector of the slain Circle of Nine, and now an avatar made into shape by unyielding spite and the world’s unrestrained Conflict. 

“Oh how you would weep if your former visage saw you now.”

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

Be good, Raziel... - a decree from the Paladin

“As if you have the gall to insinuate otherwise.”

[oldsarafanrelic]

“I do not insinuate.”

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

“MALEK!? is that you!? show yourself!”

[oldsarafanrelic]

The voice, distant yet so close, as if a memory caught in the empty northern wind caressing from the Pillars’ tomb. “Even with your body ruined and face cowled, you are utterly distinctive. I am almost amused...” 

[saviourofnosgoth-deactivated201]

Be good, Raziel... - a decree from the Paladin

“As if you have the gall to insinuate otherwise.”

[oldsarafanrelic]

“I do not insinuate.”

[biolabs-soldier]

Visit Original Link

Hi everyone!

@oldsarafanrelic wrote this awesome piece, and I did my best to “bring it to life”.

Legacy of Kain has been a favorite of mine for quite some time, so I hope this does it justice!

Check out @oldsarafanrelic

[oldsarafanrelic]

Woe to the Damned

“Malek!” A cry screamed. It felt like a chorus all screaming at once into his long-forgotten ears. Over and over, this nightmare never went away from the Damned One’s mind. His very soul - tortured and trapped in the armour that defined his very existence - screamed with this cry of the dead.

His hate.

His fury.

It flowed into his ethereal hands and blessed pike as he deflected one blood-etching blade for another. The hisses of these bastards were nothing but irritation to the Sarafan Lord’s ears. His weapon whirled, keeping the vampires back. The time they realized the scrolling of the Ancient precursors’ spellwork glowing along the ancient shaft, it was too late before a wave of radiant power arched and cleaved the assassins into blasted ash!

“Back! Back to the Hell that your souls are doomed to go.” Malek of the Sarafan commanded before looking up to the upper levels of the manor. The presences of these infernal souls were as blatant to him as fire infront of fingers. Rushing up half a flight and lept with inhuman power, landing on a railing with a casual cleave of a running vampire’s head from its shoulders. Two more were here, how many were crawling their rotten presence.

“Is this how low your precious Broodmaster has fallen?” Malek snarled, his voice vibrating from his shell in eternal hatred. “I will come for him. His carcass will be out in the sun and rain before I even think to allow his pain to end. But you..”

Malek stepped one satoban down before the other.

“I will make your deaths quick. Praise me in the mercy few were allowed.”

[lynnora-v]

@dongtopus

I blame you for this 

Also I realized I misplaced Malek’s thumb on the second panel but really it’s a shit post, who the fuck cares - there’s a huge moth!

[oldsarafanrelic]

At the northern fields, between the forsaken Ash City and the reclused Turelim citadel, a grisly sight was beheld. At first, there was only a smile of the dead’s ash. Vampiric ash melded with the falling colanoic counterpart. A stink of old - no ancient, forbidden magic. 

Closer and closer, at first, there were signs of battle. Until coming to the hill’s horizon. There were many...dozens of them.

Dead.

Vampires of many clans; the vicious Dumahim, the spiteful Melchahim, traveling Zephonim. Even some of the retreated Rahabim and great Turelim. All impaled on great pikes made of silver hefts and blades shaped with blessed steel. To touch them were to introduce a pain unseen in centuries. They will be placed here, dead or stuck in torturous limbo.

Before them all were a standard higher than all others, flickering by the wind was a eagle-like trident. Glorious and malicious, righteous and murderous. War of zealotry. One not seen since the mortals’ greatest saviors and vampirism’ greatest foe.

There were many taloned and booted prints of these fallen gods, but the pointed saboton reeking of unbound hatred materialized once more.

[vintar]

d&d is good

[i-am-snowils-admiral]

[semiramis-audron]