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Cystia: Fall Into Darkness

one year ago
Commended by EndMaster on 2/2/2017 12:56:56 AM
Kingdom of Cystia, four months ago. The Blue Wizard’s tower had been cast down in smoldering ruins, and Lord Threejay the Banishing King once more held court in the castle.

“Let it be known far and wide throughout the realm; no more will we have senseless and chaotic disputes. From now on Cystia will be a place of prosperity, of cordial disagreements, intelligent debates, and peace,” King Threejay had declared. “Also, I made a master necromancer and a killer robot into gods.”

The nobles gathered in the throne room to pay him respects and whisper among each other. “It’s so strange to have someone Lawful Good wearing the crown again,” Mizal whispered to Sir Iavatus, who still bothered to show up to things at that point in time. “The lords of late have pretty much run the gamut between Lazy Good and Chaotic Twat.”

“Well yes, but there are downsides...” Ivy muttered under his breath, nodding to where Sir Malk Alack was having an audience with the king, before jumping onto his magical unicorn and riding away to battle kangaroo marauders or a smiling green devil on the other side of the world or something.

“The district of Phorum Gaym is harboring Fools and beastfolk. We need a solution,” Sir Malk complained. “Like, you know, maybe some kind solu--”

“Ugh. No.”

Most of the nobles, the important ones that mattered, stifled sighs of disappointment.

“Crap. Okay FINE. But what about the Blue Witches? Can we at least execute them?”

“What crimes have they committed?”

“They...they’re witches! They put curses on people! Also they’re cunts.”

“Not disagreeing with the latter, but I’ll need evidence of the former, I’m afraid.”

Malk scowled. “They cursed me, personally--”

“Now now, you’re not blaming them for your werecapy form?”

“No! I mean they’re cursing my dreams! I keep having this recurring one about being bent over by like, this really rough looking black man, and I try to call for help, only we’re in an abandoned steel mill and no one can hear me. For some reason I have this dream a LOT.”

The polite conversation had suddenly stopped and everyone was staring their way.

“What are you all looking at? Fuck off! I’m the target of evil magic okay! What other explanation is there!?” Malk stomped his feet and shouted at the crowd, then abruptly ran out the door to look for his machine gun as he felt the change start to come upon him. Becoming angry and excitable or thinking about burly men often did this.

“What about the peasants?” someone else asked. “I mean there’s no need to purge them completely, but their squalid huts are always in the way of the libraries. And it’s well known they harbor beastfolk too.”

“See, now that, I agree on. I’ve sent the Necromaster out to deal with the problem. The streets of our kingdom should always be kept clean and respectable, especially those around the libraries since that’s what visitors see first.” Threejay leaned back in his throne with an easy smile. “It’s such a pleasure working with someone so motivated. For instance, right now, I’m sure he’s instructing our less capable citizens on proper structure and polishing, and their buildings will be up to minimum standards in no time.”

A few of the assembled nobles coughed and exchanged glances. Mizal very discretely pulled the curtains shut on one side of the room, where she’d been watching out the window while a tiny flying figure in a white robe rained hellfire down on peasant hovels and then sucked the souls from their charred corpses. Despite the distance, she could almost fancy she heard the maniacal laughter from here.


“Wheeeeee!” the Necromaster squealed in glee, doing loopty loops in the air and burning down peasants. Oh the power! The moment he’d been granted godhood, he’d known he had exactly one target. The creative, brilliant, noble and talented young man who had swept in from foreign lands and won the adoration of the masses. Swee Lemons, of course. No other in all of Cystia was as worthy a foe.

Destroying the homes of all the peasants who were unable to count higher than two had been a simple but efficient cover story. It was also a lot of fun in it’s own right. It helped that a LOT of peasants fell under this criteria.

THERE! The building he’d been looking for. It was easily recognizable from the air, on account of its exceptionally long and boringly structured hallway. Now, to exact his revenge...


Lemons sat placidly before the hearth, wondering why it was his next door neighbors’ house was on fire, and more importantly, why didn’t his neighbors like him? Everyone else did, right? It was strange.

Wicked laughter from above interrupted his thoughts. “Muhahahahaha! I’m coming for you, Swee! And your precious little hallway too!”

There was a deafening crack of thunder, and Lemons let out a high pitched scream, instantly marinating himself in ‘lemon juice’. Black smoke poured from the boring, stupidly long hallway! The precious hallway! It had taken him almost fifteen minutes to build it! Lemons leapt up and charged for his desk, writing a very irate letter about the Necromaster singling him out and addressing it to the kingdom at large before a falling beam suddenly knocked him unconscious.

Hours later, he woke up, wincing instantly at the pain in his skull. Wriggling free of the wreckage, he surveyed the smoking ruins around him. Corpses of children, beastfolk, and peasant alike littered the ground. Many had been friends. The whole neighborhood had been destroyed. And in the distance the smoke from several more darkened the sky. The destuction was unthinkable.

The destruction to his house and his beautiful hallway, of course. The rest he’d barely noticed and honestly, wasn’t all that important.

He felt a burning rage grow deep within him. Right then and there, he vowed his revenge. He would travel the world, train with the best. On the day he returned, he would avenge his hallway. But what form would his vengeance take?

Just then, a fat Mormon lesbian flew by, riding on a giant moth.

Yes. Yes, that was it! his was a sign. Swee Lemons would be no more. Now he would be known as Mormon Moth Girl. Necromancers, they were a cowardly and superstitious lot. The one that had so wronged him would one day, perhaps in a sequel, be taken completely unawares.


“Necromaster, you really should slow down a little with these mass purges,” Threejay gently chided.

“But it’s so much fun!”

“Necromaster, I mean it. You can’t go on every night like this, burning down half the city. A few of these people pay taxes. And tourists don’t like all the soot and smoke. Plus, the secret graveyard is getting too big to keep hidden.”

“Sure. If you say so,” the necromancer said with a sigh, pulling a few random idiots out of the latest fire and halfheartedly patting the flames out of their clothes and hair.

“That’s great! Glad we talked!” the king said, cheerful again and giving the necromancer a friendly slap on the back. “You know I have to say, I had a few doubts about working with a soulless being of pure evil at first, but this is really working out so well. The kingdom has never been so orderly and at peace. I mean, I know don’t always see eye to eye, but I think all along you just needed someone to set a good example for you. Never underestimate the power of a friend’s influence.”


Kingdom of Cystia, one month ago.

In Phorum Gaym, screams filled the night. The flames rose high, reflecting in Threejay’s eyes. Standing beside the Necromaster, blood dripped from his sword as he watched the panic and mayhem, and his deep laughter echoed through the streets.

“You were right, my friend, this IS fun. Next, we’ll take out the orphanages and soup kitchens. And then...get this. We’ll separate the city into four factions, and then build a massive arena they’ll all be forced to fight to the death in, every day, purely for our amusement.”

The necromancer grinned. “That sounds fantastic! I’m glad we’re finally seeing eye to eye on things.”

Cystia: Fall Into Darkness

one year ago

Well that is pretty much how my conversations go with JJJ.

Cystia: Fall Into Darkness

one year ago
Thank you End for taking pity on my story.

Cystia: Fall Into Darkness

one year ago

Alright, this was literary gold. While I'm on principle not a fan of in-joke riddled/derived stories, if they must be written, this is the gold standard. Accessible yet erudite, thanks for the chuckles :)

E: That said, I'm sure I'm unaware of more than half of the backstory this is based on, still the story stands on its own as an absurd comedy.

Cystia: Fall Into Darkness

one year ago


I loved it! Your writing style and take on changing things from what they are to this has always been great entertainment, and you don't fail to entertain. Other than like, one spelling mistake, this was perfect. ^-^