Registered Member #24078
Joined: 3:40:59 am GMT 05/14/17
Posts: 1561
The Abyssal Conjunction
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The Rift sparked and burned the air of the cavern, shedding a carmine light among the scorched stalagmites, causing thier shadows to stretch over the twisted walls and intermingle with the living shadows that swarmed around the crackling spire of chaotic crystal.
There it stood, piercing through the flesh of the earth like a blade through a man's heart in an dark Lowtown alleyway.
The familiar call beckons to the demon perched before it, washed in the lurid red light. He feels the incessant thudding of its call, a call that nearly drove him to abject madness all those years before. A smile creeps over his bloodied face and he listens more closely as his mind ponders the nature of the Riftstone.
They broke through the lands of the world in great numbers, all over. Within the bowels of the earth, among the decaying swamps and even in primordial elven forests. Wherever they touched, madness soon followed. Rage and destruction; unconfined chaos. The demon watches an arc of the wildly energy lace over the broken facet of the stone, washing the cavern with an even more sinister glow.
Among the rampant thudding of the Rift his thoughts drift to his home and the new demonic intrusions he had witnessed within the layer where the likes of him and other demons like Halla and Red'effenys had come to call their macabre home, the corner of the Abyss that fed on the Island of Thain itself. There were many names for it, but to him it was The Riftdelve, the place where the Rifts lead should one try to follow their call.
The place they would call you to....and claim you, if you let them.
Now other demons seem to have heard their call, each one more horrific than the last, lords of their own realms who now crashed into his own little slice of demonic heaven.
Another arc of deadly energy lashes out, snapping to a stalactite and causing it to wither and rumble to red dust. The shower of glowing red cascades over him stinging his demonic flesh like tiny red hot razors, but his thoughts remain on this new abyssal conjunction, and to those who would seek to take their part of the island he had come to love to torment so much.
The demon rises, pushing the Rift madness from his mind as he gathers his bloodied blades and stalks out into the night.
For once, his thoughts were focused upon one single thing: Defending his home.
Registered Member #24078
Joined: 3:40:59 am GMT 05/14/17
Posts: 1561
Home
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The demon and minotaur stood before the yawning maw of the Abyss as it churned forth into the material, breaking through the fabric of the world to spill unspeakable horrors into the mortal realm. Lurid eyes appeared in the choking fumes that bellowed forth from the Rift and howling cries of dozens more unseen demonic nightmares echoed in the cataclysmic sounds of crashing earth and flaming winds that now threatened to spill forth and overtake the pair...
The carmine skinned demon looked to the towering bull-like creature as it snorted and hefted its mighty hammer. The demon's viridescent eyes drift back to howling masses clawing towards them as he draws his own weapons and storms into the growing horde of demons, joining the bloodied fray.
It was good to be home.
~R~
The pair heave, each trying to catch their breath in the burning air as some misshapen abomination reels over into a gory pile of ruin, its head crushed by the minotaur's maul and its tendons slashed by the demon's quick blades. The falling monstrosity draws the eyes of a flight of vrocks that circled above, drawing their beady eyes to their impending meal.
As the creature is torn asunder by their razor-edged beaks, the pair slip away in to the bloodied crags and delve deeper into the maelstrom of the Abyss...
~R~
The last abyss-touched gnoll gurgles violently as the demon's sword rips free from its twisted neck. The ruins loom heavy over the gore-ridden battlefield, littered with contorted limbs and tufts of bloodied fur. The distant howls of the nightmarish pack flee deeper into the sorrid layer as their alpha falls into a crumpled pile of torn flesh and fur.
The carmine demon rises, wiping the warm blood from his face as the surveys the chaos.
It was as if the multitudes of abyssal layers were colliding, cutting into one another and breaking and sundering their way through one another, leaving an unspeakable amount of chaos in their wake, the sort of madness that drives their denizens into an even more unspeakable frenzy.
The demon's own thoughts race, drinking in the raw mayhem and destructive powers that surround him.
"What would happen, if in all the relentless roiling of the layers, it sundered the Riftdelve's ties to the Island?"
The world shakes and thunders as the sky breaks overhead, pouring sheets of black rain over the dying bodies and streaking over the demon's face, tracing the lines of the scars that riddle his body.
"What would happen if it severed my ties to the island...to my Hom-"
He pauses, watching as the brutish minotaur broke free an arm from a fallen demonic gnoll and begin feasting upon the severed limb.
"Was this endless Abyss of Chaos incarnate...my home?"
The demon's mind gets lost in the thought, but not for long. The pack's howls grow louder once more, empowered by the incoming mayhem above...
"Because my thoughts keep drifting always back to elsewhere...to an Island - My own little slice of Chaos.."
He is lost in the blood of the storming gnolls again, a vile grin spreading across his face as he hews into them. He was fighting for something...
Registered Member #24078
Joined: 3:40:59 am GMT 05/14/17
Posts: 1561
Webs
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The armored boot of The Bloodwinged crushed the shrieking spider underfoot, bursting it like a ripe fruit as the rest of the brood scurried back into the darkness that surrounded the winged pair. Dragon and Demon rose and stood back to back, weapons flaring hot as the flames and rift energies feasted upon the ichor from the hewn spiders that only moments ago nearly made a meal of them both.
The hulking matron, a massive demonic spider that had claimed one of the layers of the Abyss, hissed and slide back into the gloomy depths, her body riddled with the deep cuts of the pair's blades. A stark silence falls over the pair as the demonic spider horde follows in pursuit of their matriarch, perhaps even to feed upon her.
The two old friends didn't stick around in those fell depths long enough to find out...
~R~
It was good to fight alongside his old friend again. It felt familiar, yet so far overdue. The pair speak of their old days in the wars, bloody days when they hacked and slashed through stalwart lines of armored knights, raging dwarves and deadly elves alike. They were fighting for something back then, something worth fighting for, something worth drying for, but most especially, something worth killing for.
As they speak, more abyssal layers crash and collide, sending the pair reeling through the various hellscapes, each teeming with more hordes of demons drunk on the mayhem and raw chaos filling the realms. The demon watches the carnage as the realms twist around one another, molding and melting two horrific nightmare terrains into something far worse.
The Demon speaks of the Rift, how it was ever served as a conduit of the Abyss to the Island, but specifically, to the layer known as the Riftdelve, the layer where Gorrath the World Eater, Herald of Cataclysms, held dominion. What would happen should this roiling Chaos break those ties? Surely another layer may tie itself to the island like a demonic parasite, but what if it did not? What if it simply pulled the Riftdelve and the Rift stones themselves from the fabric of the Island like a rotting tooth knocked from a man's mouth with a wild punch? If the Rift was wrested from Thain, what Chaos would be left to stand against the ravages of the Void? Of the Devils? Hells, even of the Celestials...
Each question bred a multitude of others while the two made their escape from the depths of the Abyss, searching wildly for one of the Rifts that would lead them back to their Home.
As the questions roll about inside the Demon's wild mind, they all seem to coalesce into one singular thought:
How could he save the Chaos of Thain from that without?
Registered Member #24078
Joined: 3:40:59 am GMT 05/14/17
Posts: 1561
Universal Hatred
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The fluttering breezes swept off the palisades of Fort Bennars as the darkening skies drew closer, whipping the gusts into a demoniac frenzy as the gold-armored Knight departed the fortress and made off on whatever noble errand he had set his ire to that particular day. From beyond, hidden in the darkness of the wooded cliffs, a pair of verdant eyes watch the shining Knight as he mounts his steed and rides off into the growing storm.
Little did the Knight know he had a Demon as a shadow that fateful day...
~R~
The Knight delivers justice to the brigands as they emerge from the cracks and holes in which they hid. The Demon watches as the holy brand swings true, breaking through the thieves and cut-throats' bodies like a sickle through dry wheat. Their blood stains the sand as the crashing waves wash over their broken bodies. The Knight pauses, standing resolute amidst the carnage that justice so often brings.
It was then the Demon appeared to him, rippling into existence in a flash of lurid red light that stains the bloodied sands a dark black as creature breaks through. The blood of the fallen wash over his feet, pink in the foaming surf as his eyes lock onto the Knight.
Even as the blood underfoot drove the Demon's senses wild, edging him into a frenzy, he cast only words at the shining Knight that day. Perhaps some even drifted into his heart. He told the Knight of the Chaos below. Of the threat it posed to his home, The Riftdelve. They spoke of the Iron Siege, of the planar inhibitors that severed the ties of the great infernal city from the depths of the Hells themselves, and of what may happen if one of those very devices were to be brought within the Riftdelve.
Could it break the layer free from the Abyss? Bind it to Thain in earnest? Keep the demons contained therein where they belong, nay, where they were needed. If the Riftdelve was drawn into the maws of the Abyss, it would deprive the Island, and the Demon, of his source of raw Chaos to turn against the ravages of the Void. He'd be alone against the encroaching darkness.
He would not let the Abyss take it. Not after all he had endured. It was His, and he would use it.
Convincing the Knight to inquire about the whereabouts of any remaining inhibitors was simple enough, for all beings, be they Demon, Devil - Man or Angel, all hold a certain degree of hatred within their hearts, even if it wears a plate of shining gold over it all.
And above all else, the Knight's order despised Demonkind, and no demon had drawn their ire more than Gorrath himself. A demon lord who has long dwelled deep within the Riftdelve, feasting on the souls of those claimed by the same, biding his time to return with another Cataclysm in tow...
The Demon needed only to mention that if the Riftdelve was bound to the Material, Gorrath may well be vulnerable to their vengeance, as would all the other demons that called the layer their home.
Whatever kept the Rift and Chaos alive on the island was worth the risk to the Demon. The day would come when even he would face their holy brands, no doubt, but he could not let it all be lost to the silence of the Void.
That day, Demon and Knight departed without blood spilled, both trusting in the only thing they could: Hatred.
Registered Member #24078
Joined: 3:40:59 am GMT 05/14/17
Posts: 1561
The Paths We Walk
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The flaming Balor, careened and collapsed at last as the Demon and Fey finally broke its form with their assault. The demonic lord fumed and erupted into a blast of abyssal flame that sent the unlikely pair reeling across his bloodied throne room, each crashing unceremoniously into a scorched pile of blood, vines, and anger.
As the acrid smoke cleared they propped themselves up, rising in pain. Another demon lord who was brought down, albeit at a cost; one manifested in raw physical pain, yet still the countless circles of the abyss crashed and ground upon one another, breaking and sundering into unfathomable nightmares with each collision. More demons would come for the Riftdelve, perhaps even break it away from Thain itself if the powers that drove it were not averted...
The pair look to one another, each a warrior of their own colors, each fighting for the same realm, yet for different reasons.
The Dreamwalker fey had her own agenda: vile powers of the abyss were infesting the realms near her treasured wood, threatening to spread. And what if they fell? The demon would lose one of his few allies in the fight against the ever looming consumption of the Void, allies that were few.
He thinks of the woods the dryad defended. Thinks of how he'd burn them all to ash, tree by tree, then drive his riftblade into the very tree that sustained the strange fey, then salt the ashes of it all as it burned if it would mean the Void was held at bay.
But that was not the case.
The fey would not bear to see the Void return either. They were an odd pair: Demon and Fey, but for now, they walked the same path, the same path that had led the Demon to fight many battles of late.
He thinks back to the nothingness. The feeling that still ate at his blackened heart. The Stillness. He thinks of those who it has claimed, those it would claim if it were left to spread with impunity. He even thinks of her, tucked within his tattered garb, bound in nightmare.
If the Abyss continued to ravage itself, it may well draw him away with it, for he too was a Demon, one bound to the realm of Riftdelve. The Layer of Gorrath. If it was drawn away...who would stand against the darkness? The Shadowguard? Those few who remain? The Fey? The mad mage?
None of them could keep it at bay alone. No, they each arrived to fight it by different paths...but now, their paths were one.
[ The Island of Thain ]
The Demon You Know