Chapter 9: Sin Unveiled
The hall was now silent, but Penelope could feel the fear and despair
from her sisters and peers. Quite truly, she herself felt the same body-
numbing fear, the same chill. The Lesser Evils, well, two of them at
least, were now roaming the world and spreading their own brand of
misery, which Penelope guessed wouldn't be that much different from their
older cousins. For now everyone had kept their cool, and that was
something to be thankful for! Penelope looked down on the table, and
like the others, she couldn't help but notice the strange looking parcel
that jumped and jumbled all over the table... Was it getting stronger?
Whatever was in there, Penelope had a feeling that she wouldn't like it.
She looked again in the direction of the platform, but this time at the
speaker himself. He was an older man, somewhere in his mid twenties,
basically in middle age. The retelling of his story seemed to have
depressed him, for now he was holding his head in front of his face, and
his body was convulsing every now and then. Penelope couldn't help but
feel sorry for him, for she had seen what such a journey could do to
someone. Penelope had seen Erias, her teacher and mentor often times
break down because of flashbacks, old memories, and such. Oh how she
hated evil!!!
The silence had lasted only a minute before someone had finally spoke up.
It is common human reaction to begin denying the truth in the face of
fear, and this was what seemed to happen in the meeting hall. Someone,
whether it be an assassin, a sorceress, or a Vizjerei spoke out,
challenging the truth of this story, saying it was false. Like a tidal
wave, such opinions and their counters washed over the room, enveloping
all in a steady stream of noise. This noise had gone on for a while, and
it seemed like the paladin couldn't take it any more. He gripped his
ears like a madman, and crouched down where he stood. Finally, as if he
had finally broken, he let out a long scream, a shriek so terrible and
anguished that the whole hall went silent as a crypt.
"Enough!!!" The paladin screamed;
"If none of you believe me.."
Now the paladin was walking towards the table in the center of his
platform, where the bag was resting;
"If you do not believe me then I will show—"
He stopped suddenly. Without warning, a black fire enveloped the bag,
first melting away the dark inky spots of the protective runes, and then
fraying away the cloth of the bag itself. With that single ebony flame,
the world was witness to one of the most horrible things in history once
more, for now everyone in the room; sorceress, assassin, and sorcerer was
now gaping into the living, breathing, live head of Azmodan, the Lord of
Sin. His head was of black, leathery skin, while his ears were pointed
and wide like that of a bat, but they looked more like horns. His
leather skin was molded around what seemed to be a rather rectangular
shaped skull, with a misshaped size and back. His eyes were a sunken
deep into the skull, and seemed to bee almost pure darkness themselves,
with a small white pupil. The tongue of the head was long and forked,
and the small dark lips were formed into a twisted smile. The room was
utterly silent for what seemed like an eternity, but then the head spoke;
from its mouth bellowed an awful, horrible, completely earsplitting yell
of is own. Its eyes scanned the whole room itself, giving everyone
access into its evil eyes. When it looked upon their faces all it could
see was terror, and it laughed.
"Puny mortals, I am Azmodan, Lord of Sin and master of this world!! You
will all worship me, or die!!!!"
Before anyone else in the room could respond or react, the heads maw
gaped open, revealing rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth, all grossly
oversized and thin for a mouth that they had seen. Inside this mouth a
fiery portal to the very gates of Hell seemed to be open before them, and
into the room poured demons of indescribable terror. Fallen lesser
demons, Succubi of Azmodan's own harem, Unravellers that were Azmodan's
own personal attendants, Higher Demons that were privy to only the
highest levels of Hell, as well as Azmodan's own twisted Sinful Legions.
Undead souls from the Sin Wars and spanning all times, their skeletal
frames showed the talents of both warriors and mages. Within seconds
hundreds of these creatures had poured into the hall with a bloodlust
and craving for battle that transcended a millennia.
Penelope thought quickly, and the only thing she could think to do was to
attack. Firing a single bolt of lightning from her palm, she happen to
kill a row of three Fallen demons. This number was only an insignificant
fraction of the total, for the hall now had more demons inside it then
people!! Enraged by the loss of some of their 'brothers', the rest of
the demons charged with unforeseen rage. Nothing the people in the hall
could have imagined or trained with could have prepared them for this
image. Imagine over hundreds of Hell's minions staring you right in the
face, wanting nothing more than to vivisect you and feast on your living,
pulsating guts. Penelope, as well as the others in the audience stands
were frozen in terror, but ten people in the room were not. Their years
of working with their craft had honed their skills to the point where
they were able to call on them, even in a moment like this.
The first were the eight elders. In a spectacular show of skill, the old
Vizjerei mage crafted a large magical bubble all around the Elders, which
also acted to protect the people in the stands behind. So great was the
elder's control over his ability, that his shield had gained the trait of
a semi-permeable membrane, it was able to allow certain types of forces
in and out, while to others it barred all access. Because of this, it
gave the Elders a perfect environment to weave their craft. Brilliant,
almost majestic phenomenon were now happening all over the room, from
thunderous meteors to frigid thunderstorms, the demons almost seemed to
be off of their guard, and it looked as if they were retreating!!
The ninth person to react in tandem with the elders was Quirarri. The
elder Viz-Jaaq'Tar was by Ilfe's side for only a second when the demons
emerged, and she was gone. She appeared in a split second beside one of
the more troublesome Unravellers, who was soon kicked forcefully into a
group of other demons. The elder demon toppled backward, crushing
another group of his own minions. Quirrari had only allowed the demon to
be on the ground for a second, and then the razor sharp blades of her tri-
bladed wrist weapon into his throat, killing him. The next second, she
was up fighting demons and monsters once more, her single blade and
shield a flurry of motion as she sliced through the multitude of demons.
Like a demon herself, she was giving the demons mixed emotions, for they
couldn't tell if she was one of their own, or an enemy.
On a lesser note, Faust had been the first person overall to react to the
outpoor of demons. His work and life experience had left him nothing to
fear from the threats of the demon horde. Undaunted, he sent wave after
wave of Den'Trag into the coming waves of the demons. He had moved from
his original position and was now in the heat of the battle, on the side
of the rest of the incoming fury of creatures. Where were they all
coming from? Was Hell emptying its coffers? He himself had succeeded in
herding some of the demons into a smaller group, but they were still
coming on strong from all fronts.
Azmodan was annoyed. These puny mortals, just ten for the time being,
were putting up a fair fight against his own legions of Sin!! This would
not do!! Using a demonic form of telepathy, he began calling over a
demon known as a Venom Lord. Greatest of the great demons, this demon
would prove perfect for what he had planned...
The ten people didn't have to hold off the demons by themselves for long!
Soon the others assassins, mages, and sorcerers had realized the danger
to a more real level, and they had seen that demons were still mortal.
With a fury equal to their predecessors, they attacked. The sorceresses
launched their own methods of attacks through magic, while other
assassins had jumped into the fray with their leader. Ilfe, however, had
stayed back purposefully with a group of a dozen or so assassins for some
purpose. That had yet to be revealed, but the apparatae on their persons
gave some sort of hint.
Azmodan was lucky. No one had noticed his most powerful High Demon
walking towards the table and picking up his head. This would be
perfect! Soon it would be time to wreak his own form of havoc on the
mortals. Slowly, but surely, the demon began to place Azmodan's head on
top of his own. Acting like some warped organic helmet, Azmodan soon
enveloped the demon's cranium entirely. Now the demon was squirming and
clawing at Azmodan's head furiously, but to no avail! The demon had a
new body now, and he would make use of it. Soon black leathery, almost
armor-like skin covered the green flesh of the original demon, and the
body became slender, but denser with muscle. The wings of the demon
stayed intact, but instead of the conventional demon claws there were now
large, large talons, which were as hard as steel and almost scythe like
in design. The lord of Sin was back, and this time, he had a body!!!!
---
Correck V'Arr, the Vizjerei elder, was in for a moment of shock when the
new Azmodan appeared. Seeing the demon there in the 'flesh' wasn't
enough to topple him then, but the next action was. Pointing one long
finger at the old man, Azmodan sent a seething bolt of energy right
through his barrier, sending the elderly man reeling. As he recovered
from the shock of the blow, Correck could feel his shield waning. Could
he hold the demon by himself? The elders were doing their best to fight
off the horde of demons, but nothing seemed to ebb their tide. The portal
the demon had produced seemed to be its own entity now, so the demons
just kept coming!! Correck had no choice but to try to outlive the
storm.. Where on this Earth was the High Elder!!??
Penelope was covered in sweat, and almost exhausted. She had been
fighting the demons with her Zann Esu and Vizjerei partners for only
minutes, but they were still beginning to weigh on her mana. The portal
was never absent of a fiend, or group of fiends, and monsters were being
resurrected faster than they could destroy them! Thank the Heavens for
Correck V'Arr! The skillful mage had been all that had kept them alive
in the struggle, but he was only one man in the end. Azmodan would
outlast him soon if nothing was done! Penelope looked across at the
portal where the demons were appearing.. What was it that she saw?
Another portal? Who could be coming through??
Raeson Schelockna looked at his compatriot and smiled a devious smile,
which was returned by his companion. Slipping on their identical helmets
made of the skulls of demons, they both waited. It was time the Zann Esu
and Vizjerei had a taste of true dominance, but it would be better to
wait...
Faust could only stare in horror as the Lesser Evil finally acquired a
body of his own. This battle was useless! There was nothing they could
do to stop these demons!!! Something had to be done to save them all
before they were killed, but there was nowhere to run! Demons flooded
everywhere—Everywhere! Taking another swig of a mana potion, Faust let
loose another salvo of Den'Trag, missiles from the corporeal plain that
were doing their job at producing... Faust looked down, and paused for a
second, how could he have been so stupid!?
The dead produced corpses!!!
Azmodan was nearing his goal. The old Corrack V'Arr was a cunning mage,
yes, but even he could not stand up to the psychic blasts of Azmodan!
Again and again Azmodan pummeled the man's mind, over and over again
denting him, denting him, but he wouldn't break!! He was only and old
man, but his resilience was amaz-THERE! A hole in the man's magic
defenses! Azmodan's incessant attacking had worked! With even more
force, he attacked the man's weak point, causing a searing pain that even
he could feel the traces of.
Corrack V'Arr was a man, a brilliant man at that, but even his magical
prowess could not stand the blows of Azmodan!! It had only taken the
demon a few mind blows to reduce the old man to his knees, and his shield
reflected this. He tried with all his might to hold it, but he
couldn't....Darkness flooded his view.
Ilfe and the group of a dozen or so assassins was on the ready when they
saw the magical shield flicker. Corrack V'Arr was almost gone magically,
and without him the Elders were in major peril. This was where Ilfe and
her crew came in. Even though everyone else in the crew was older than
she was, Ilfe was known for her cunning work as a leader, so she was
given the most privileged position in the crew; they were the Elder
Guards. After the shield went down, and Corrack V'Arr had fallen to the
floor, Ilfe and her assassins were already in front of the elders.
Grouping all eight of them together, they, or those that were able, cast
innumerable bladed probes into the air, enchanted items of the Vizjerei.
These items floated around the group, protecting them from any advances
by the enemy. Ilfe reached into her armor, and pulled out a blue
lettered scroll. After uttering the word found on its surface, the
scroll disappeared and so did the Elders and part of their guard in a
flash of blue light.
It had taken Donanthan Aurthor a while to regain his senses. After his
nervous collapse, he had been on the floor, with demons swirling all
around him, but never daring to touch him. They saw the incinerated
remains of their comrades who had gotten too close, so they felt it best
to stay away themselves. After remaining consciousness, Aurthor seemed
to know what had happened. Instantly he drew his sword, Hellplague, and
sliced the head of a Fallen clean off. His shield was by his side, so he
quickly picked it up, and armed himself against the sea of demons that
would have liked nothing better than to tear out his throat. With his
large tower shield in hand, it seemed as if no demon could break through
his defenses. One would try, then get smote right into the demons behind
him, disabling more than just the demon who was hit in the first place.
He himself had proven quite an adversary for the demons, even if he was
only mortal. With powerful strokes of his sword and shield, he was able
to show the demons the true strength of Zakarum!
Azmodan had felt another magical presence in the room of the battle. He
had seen the second portal appear, but it did not seem to be a threat.
However, its magical signature was very different than something he would
normally have encountered in a place like this. Normally the auras of
Vizjerei, Zann Esu, Heralds, and even assassins had a more positive feel
to them, but this aura was different. It wasn't negative or positive in
magical alignment, almost puzzling. After scanning the room, however,
Azmodan saw what the source of the aura was. A lone Priest of Rathma
happened to be in the room, furiously fighting off demons with his
ethereal projectiles. Neither side seemed to be making progress, so
Azmodan decided to wreak a little havoc. With the elders gone, thanks to
that accursed guard, he was now unable to complete the objective he had
set, but that hadn't mattered, the target elder wasn't here anyway.
With a snarl, he jumped into the air and took flight thanks to the wings
of his new body, and with a fierce growl he landed in front of the
necromancer. Wielding a single scythe like talon from his evil fist, he
swiped at the necromancer, who ducked the blow. However, the
necromancer's crouch sent him directly into Azmodan's stone-hard knee,
knocking the wind out of him and sending him backward. As the young
priest stood up and coughed out a little blood from his injured mouth,
Azmodan smiled. He needed to vent his anger.
Before Faust could actually commit his plan of setting the room alight in
a blaze of exploding cadavers, he had attracted the attention of a much,
much more fearsome foe. The Lord of Sin himself felt it necessary that
he cause Faust at least as much torture as possible before taking out the
rest of the sorceresses, if they were indeed his targets. The demon
first attacked him with a claw, which Faust ducked. However, he could do
little to stop the demon's supernaturally quick knee from slamming into
his exposed face. Feeling his lips bust open, Faust couldn't help but
touch them as he felt to the ground. He hit the stone floor with a hard
thud, with bloody fingers. The dark image of the demon began to cower
over him, shear pleasure, if that was indeed possible, decorating his
face.
"I wasn't able to accomplish my objective, and that displeases me so.."
The demon said with a familiar snarl;
"However, I will enjoy burning your very mind to make up for it!!! This
is what happens when priests dabble in things they shouldn't!"
Now Faust felt the unbearable pain in his mind. It was akin to white-hot
flames of fire burning down the proverbial forest of his mind, in an
attempt to leave it bare and empty, which would mean death. Now, it was
not the death part Faust feared, but the pain of the demon's chosen
method was completely indescribable in any form of writing. With a
scream that would normally signal a thousand deaths, Faust clutched his
head in agony as he prepared for darkness...Then there was a flash! And a
crack of thunder! Immediately the pain stopped, and Faust, eyes closed,
was able to hear the voice of the demon fill his ears, itself seeming to
be marinated in terror;
"E-Erias?? You..You have grown..."
"Stronger." Came back the familiar female voice; it was the sorceress!!!
Faust opened his eyes to see her standing their, calm despite the ruckus
around her, staring down the profound evil. The demon's voice seemed to
grow confident now, and he uttered in a boastful, yet slightly shaky
voice;
"Well, It's nice to see you here Erias.. I suppose you've come to see
everyone before you die?"
Faust saw Erias give a small chuckle at this, and she sighed.
"You could say that.." She moved a little closer to Azmodan, and opened
her palm up a bit;
"If by that, you mean that I'm here to blow you back to the Burning
Hells!!!"
With that, a giant arc of lightning flew from her open palm, catching the
demon off guard. His strong body flew into the stone wall at least one
hundred feet away, taking a multitude of his minions with him. It seemed
that the demon was up for more of a fight than he thought.
Raeson looked back at his mysterious partner, who he knew only as the
Apothecary. A third, unknown apprentice to Faust, this person was a
rather strange necromancer, who specialized in the poison s of their
religion. He could summon minions too, not as good as Raeson in the long
run, but his summoning skills were deadly in conjunction with his
poisonous blade. Both of them could feel the presence of a new
individual, and it was powerful. His uncle had warned him of such a
person, apparently they were a highly dangerous magic user. However, he
also said that her appearance would be the time to strike. They were to
work in conjunction with some other, mysterious party in order to destroy
her. It seemed odd that the other party hadn't been mentioned except by
that premise, but it wasn't Raeson's place to ask questions like that.
With a determined nod, he stepped forward, directly followed by his
silent companion.
What they both saw was almost complete and total chaos. Behind the
visors of their bony helms, they saw sorceresses, Vizjerei, and
assassins, all fighting for their pathetic lives in a struggle against a
set of the most horrible demons both of them had ever seen! With a grim
grin, Raeson saw that these demons must have been the other 'mysterious
party'. It also seemed like they were doing rather well. After scanning
the room, he saw plenty of cadavers. Perfect. Raising his arm, wand in
hand, he called upon the forces of the dead, and pulled a sextuple set of
souls from that void of death. Exerting his will on their hopeless
spiritual mass, he forced them into the skeletal remains of the dead
demons on the floor, and molded their skeletal system to fit that of a
human. Now he had six of his own servants, minions to do his work.
Chuckling deeply, he turned to his apothecary friend, and nodded. The
Apothecary himself motioned to the different corpses that littered the
ground, and four such skeletons emerged for his use. Nodding to each
other, they set to work.
By this time, the other sorceress' and the mages, and the assassins had
realized what they were doing there, and were on the attack. However,
the skeletons had the drop on them. An assassin turned around in shock,
only to have her jugular sliced by the bony scythe one of Raeson's
skeleton's wielded. A surprised sorceress was successfully fending off
on of the Apothecary's own skeleton's, but the poison of the
necromancer's blade struck her down. Ah! The death that filled the room
was refreshing to both of them... Then they felt something strange.
Another one of them was present in this room.. Could it have been? Yes!
It was! Good ole cousin Faust was right here in this battle-ridden
chamber, and quite alive! Both of them looked at each other through
their helmets of bone; that was something they would have to rectify.
Penelope couldn't help but heave a heavy sigh when Erias had appeared.
Her teacher was thought of as the most powerful wizard of their age, and
perhaps ever. This was evident in her handling of Azmodan, short, quick,
and easy. After sending him into the wall, she had just stood their,
calm and collected. The demon was slowly getting up from his newfound
crevice inside the stone wall of the hall, and he didn't seem to happy.
Penelope saw Erias reach down into a small sheath on her leg before the
demon had completely stood up. That was all Penelope saw of the battle,
however, for soon she was attacked by another demon—or rather, a group of
demons! Forced to fight of the minions of the evil Azmodan, she had to
take her attention away from her mentor and concentrate on saving her own
skin.
Erias slowly withdrew the dagger she carried from its sheath on her leg.
Made of the bone of a certain demon slain, the dagger had been imbued
with power by a special Vizjerei wizard. Now Erias used the long spike
in her hunt of the minions of evil, but the way she used it was somewhat
unconventional. She began whirling the blade deftly in her small hand,
but Azmodan of all beings could see the power she wielded. With dodging
eyes he looked around the room, and he could see that one-on-one, he was
between a rock and a hard place. As he began to back away from Erias and
her weapon, he felt his demonic flesh collide with the stone of the
warped wall, a wall malfigured from his sudden collapse into it. Having
no other choice, he delved into his demonic magic, and created a
teleportation field around all of his own minions. After the field was
activated, all of Azmodan's minions created a venerable wall between
himself and the sorceress. As the sorceress' companions moved closer to
aid her, Azmodan could see her lift her free hand, stopping them.
Apparently, she thought that she could handle all of these demons by
herself.
Of all of the people who rallied to defend Erias, Faust was not one of
them. He would have been, of course, but he happened to be uncomfortably
preoccupied at the time. He began running towards his other...allies at
this time, however he was stopped!! Someone—Something wearing a helmet
of bone, and a style of chain mail that was almost exactly like his own
style of armor. With an air of alarm, he drew back from the individual,
right into their skeleton minions!! The skeleton he ran into had an
uncharacteristically strong grip, something that Faust wasn't really
expecting. These skeletons were strong, very strong, Faust could tell by
their structure. If the necromancer made this, he wasn't joking around
with his art! Alarmed even more by the 'death grip' of the animated
skeletal frame, Faust attempted to kick himself loose with no avail. He
could see the necromancer looking at him, and he could hear his steps,
even inside the tumultuous hall.
"Hello Faust, you do not know me, but your father has missed you very
much. He also, if I am not mistaken, does not want you to be with these
other mages, for the safety of the Priests, of course. So..."
"I'll have to kill you."
Azmodan smiled ruefully at the sorceress, who was now surrounded by an
innumerable amount of demons, with nothing but a puny bone dagger to
assist her in her battle. Even if her facial features didn't show it,
Azmodan could see tell that she was doomed, and perhaps she knew it, too.
However, mortals were often observed as being what demons would call
'retarded' when it came to their own eminent demise, so it wouldn't
surprise him if she thought she could actually win. Off in the distance,
Azmodan could see the arrival of two other necromancers! This was great,
for he had been told that he would be given assistance. However; if
'they' were already sending assistance, what would that mean for Azmodan?
His smile widened, became slyer, and he spoke;
"Be ready to feel the pain of death Erias!! There is nothing you and
that little knife can do to stop my minions and me!! Besides, if you
haven't noticed, your little necromancer is about to be killed by people
of his own kind? Are you going to try to save him again? Hmmm? You
sorceresses always did have a thing for fam-"
Something about the demon's speech had finally struck the nerve it was
targeting. In a moment's notice, Erias had dropped her calm cool
composure, and her face was alive with fury;
"THAT IS ENOUGH, AZMODAN!!" The words were said with such force that it
seemed like the demons and their commander were pushed back, closer to
the wall. The demons and spectators, however, seemed to write it off as
an effect. They didn't want to take much notice of it. Erias's calm
demeanor soon appeared again, and she was calm. Now she drew her
attention to the blade she held in her hand, but she laid it flat in her
palm.
"You would be surprised, Azmodan..." A mischievous, taunting grin crossed
her face; at the same time, the dagger she had laid in her palm began to
float in the air, and before any one could see anything else, it was
spinning!! It spun, and spun, faster and faster above her hand;
"I can do much with this 'little knife'." And with that, the blade shot,
almost of its own free will, into the crowd of demons, where it began
slicing and carving as if wielded by a ghost. With alarming, almost
unthinkable speed is moved quickly throughout the group of demons,
dissecting, bisecting, maiming, and killing. All around the demons
screamed as the magical blade rendered their flesh and bone, reducing
their group to pure remains. Looking up at Azmodan, Erias smiled, and
then beckoned her dagger back. It wiped itself clean, and landed back
into its sheath, unscathed.
The Elder Erias had captivated Donathan Aurthor as she decimated the
demon horde without so much as a bead of sweat. He had been a fool to
bring Azmodan here alive, but now he saw that he was even more of a fool
for trying to kill all of them. So far there were a few deaths for their
side, but not enough. Apparently the sorceress', mages, and assassins
had been focusing on demon slaying ever since the Hell Days. Aurthor was
well versed in fighting the minions of Hell himself, so he had been
relatively unscathed. He could see now that Azmodan was on the run as
far as fighting was concerned, and soon it would be time for Aurthor to
finish what he had started on his first journey. Looking down, Aurthor
saw that the large wooden hammer he had brought with him was still
attached to his armor. The ancient hammer had been a part of his attire
for so long that he hadn't acknowledged ever putting it on. However,
this hammer would be duly important in time.
Faust's adversary still had him trapped in the grip of one of his
minions, and Faust could see that the other five skeletons of the
necromancer were gathering around. This wouldn't be a fun thing to
experience, for all of the skeletons were burly, like the men of the
mountains Faust had heard about. This necromancer was obviously skilled,
more skilled than Faust had originally given him credit for. There was
no way that Faust himself could have taken all six of the necromancer's
pets, and himself. His musings of his own death were cut short, however,
as the necromancer let out a cackling laugh and then spoke;
"I realize perfectly well that my minions are capable of crushing you as
we speak, Faust, but I have a better idea for your fate. Instead of
killing you by crushing every bone in your body, I've decided it would be
better for you to have a poison so painful that you almost black out, but
stay conscious through the pain. Your body will want to die, but it
won't and you'll live through the torture of the poison.. Then, and only
then will I have my minions crush every bone in your body!!!!" After
this rant, another howling laugh left the lips of the crazed necromancer,
and Faust was now genuinely afraid of this man. He could almost see the
crazed smile in his imagined, featureless face. Slowly the man stepped
back, but his skeleton still took hold. Behind him was the second
necromancer. This necromancer, while attired similarly, had very
different implements. At his sides were two sheaths, the one on the
right very jagged and long, the other a straight point, and shorter than
the other. He walked forward, and drew out the long dagger. Faust could
see now that it was more like a short sword, but it was still too small
to be qualified as one, if just by a small margin. The necromancer held
the 'dagger to his face and showcased it to Faust in a delicate, almost
loving manner;
"It is a beautiful specimen.." The necromancer said in a very snakelike
voice, or at least that was how Faust related it. Faust also got a
better look at the dagger itself, and he could see that on its very hilt
there was a row of small, but still razor-like knives. The necromancer
stared at the dagger, almost analyzing it, and then he ran his fingers
along the blade, gingerly, however, so he wouldn't cut himself;
"The Jade Tan Do..." He said, in a voice full of reverence;
"This blade is one of a kind, a present from my master. The very blade
itself was imbued with a powerful poison by its crafter. Anyone it cuts
already goes through the pain of the razor sharp blade, and of course the
inlaid poison..."
The necromancer began sifting through his pack, and he pulled out a small
vile;
"I'm sure you have heard of this, being a priest.. This vile contains
the most powerful poison we are capable of producing, in fact, it is so
powerful, that I will need to repair this blade after use, because the
poison corrodes the blade so.. Prepare to feel the death of thousand!!"
The necromancer popped the lid off of the vile and spread the poison on
the blade and sides of the Jade Tan Do. The poison's presence on the
blade was announced with a small hiss, and Faust could tell that he was
in for a world of pain. At that time, all of the 'apothecary's' minions
grabbed Faust, and the summoner's original minion let him go, because he
wasn't needed. Now Faust couldn't even think of moving as the dagger
zoomed toward him in a deadly arch that rained poison. He knew the
others were too busy dealing with Azmodan to be of any assistance, so he
braced himself and watched as the daggers jagged blade punctured skin...
But not his!!! He opened his eyes wider to see that Erias, the sorceress
elder, had once again saved his life, this time by taking the attack.
Even for her, the poison was strong. She let out a scream that
reverberated throughout the hall;
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"
The pure pain even caused both of the hostile necromancers to cringe,
even though they had expected something similar to Erias' reaction. As
the sorceress fell to the floor, the apothecary withdrew his blade
roughly and whirled it in his hand;
"It is no matter, she will be dead within a minute.. And you are
next!!!"
When Erias had been staring down Azmodan, she couldn't help but see his
eyes wander behind her to look at at something beyond. Slowly she turned
only to see.. The necromancer!!! Wait...Necromancers?? This was bad. The
necromancer she had saved was vital to the future of her clan, and her,
he couldn't die! Delving into the ether, she teleported, leaving Azmodan
alone. She teleported until she was in the middle of the necromancer,
Faust's boy, and his assailant. She was just in time to receive what she
remembered as the most painful blow of her life!! The jagged blade of
the dagger sliced through her skin like butter.. But the poison!!! Oh
gods the POISON!!!! With no restraint she let out the loudest,
bloodcurdling scream she could muster, and she almost blacked out. With
the unreal pain bearing down on her, she screamed, even as the blade was
withdrawn from her body.
The necromancer shoved her aside and moved towards Faust again. Having
no choice, Erias whirled around as quickly as she could with the poison's
effects, and grabbed on to the Necromancer's shoulders. White-hot
lightning ripped though his body, and sent him into convulsions. Now
both of them were feeling pain, but the necromancer was more prepared
than Erias was. When she had lost the energy and the feeling to pump any
more lightning into him, she began to collapse. All of his minions were
dead, but he was still alive, and slowly crawling into a portal. Erias
blacked out.
When Erias had gone back to help the poor necromancer, Donathan Aurthor
moved forward in order to engage the demon, Azmodan. He and the other
combatants in the area were now closing in on Azmodan. None had them had
known exactly where in the room Erias had gone to, but they knew she had
to still be here, for they could feel her magical energy. Now Azmodan
seemed particularly joyous since Erias was away, as could be seen in the
gleaming effect his eyes took whenever Aurthor stepped forward. The
demon's long, almost snakelike tongue drifted across his needle like
teeth, which had been bared when Erias had been her opponent. Now they
were clearly out in defiance and mocking of Aurthor. His voice was
filled with sarcasm, but the people around could detect the demonic
hostility just the same, for Aurthor was the one that captured him!!
"Don Donathan Aurthor... How nice to see you again! I remember our little
"confrontation" in the old Durance of Mephisto... Oh yes, I remember it
well. But I remember most clearly the way I was barred!!! Lift to
suffocate in a mortal bag!!! The cursed Horadrim, Cain!!! Those bags he
made were designed for the specific purpose of holding smaller demons,
but you seemed to have found a better use for them!!!! For that you will
pay!!!!!!!"
Without any warning except for his increased psychotic nature, Azmodan
flew forward and began to converge on Aurthor, using his demonic power to
channel great amounts of dark energy through his long, scythe like claws.
The energy took the form of a great purple flame that enveloped each
hand in demonic fury. However terrible this power was, however, Aurthor
didn't seem to be phased, or even afraid by it. He stood as the demon
got closer and closer to his original position, but didn't actually move
until a little more than a yard separated him from Azmodan. With
conviction, he lifted up the heavy shield of his ancestor, held it in
front of him, and ran at almost demonic speed. With a large 'crash' he
collided shield-first with Azmodan, causing the latter, who was already
in a rather weakened state, to fly backwards once more up against his
familiar stone wall. However, the attack and impacts of Aurthor's attack
were too much for Azmodan's physical body this time. Instead of getting
up, now he flopped back down to the ground, head cocked sideways in a
dazed position. He was too tired to continue on the fight, thanks mostly
to Erias and the paladin in front of him. Out of exhaustion, and only
out of exhaustion, he let his prize go... The skin on his forehead receded
back, revealing a gem of purple hue that would have been the most
beautiful jewel in existence, had it not been the life force of something
completely evil.
Now the demon called back, weakly of course, but still enough to have
voice in the room;
"It seems that you have exposed my Stone.. Congratulations on your part,
that took some skill.. But I'm afraid, Paladin, that at this point there
is nothing you can do to stop me from healing now. No weapon, no skill,
no nothing will stop me, because you have nothing with you capable of
destroying my Soulstone!!!!"
The demon let out a maniacal laugh, but Don Aurthor wasn't listening.
Slowly he reached down and took the large, one-handed hammer off of a
brace in a thigh plate of his armor. With one hand he hefted it, then he
gripped it tightly. Azmodan had just seen what he had held, and it
seemed that he of all people knew what it was! His large, sunken eyes
seemed to get larger and sink deeper inside at the sight of the weapon in
Aurthor's hand;
"No!!! NOOO!! It can't be!!! Not the Hellfor-"
That was as far as Azmodan got in his plea for help, for Don Aurthor had
drawn back the hammer and slammed its head into the stone set into the
cranium of the demon. With an explosion fitting for a Lesser Evil, the
stone was destroyed, and all that was left of Azmodan and his minions was
burning away, as if some imaginary fire had been set on all of the
carcasses. Aurthor, Penelope, Ilfe and the others around them had let
out a cheer, but they did not know that the battle still waged for some
of their allies.
Erias now lay on the cold, stony floor of the desecrated meeting hall.
In other parts of the room, she might have been able to hear the
cheering, but to her all was silent. The two necromancers around her,
however, could see that her blood was still moving, and she was still
breathing, though rather weakly. To one of the necromancer's, this was a
blessing, to other, it seemed like nothing more than an annoyance. Now
Faust and his helmeted nemesis stood, face to face. However, the odds
were not even. It had only been seconds before Erias had dealt with the
Apothecary, and now the summoner was taking his own course of action. In
front of an emotionally battered and despairing Faust, the summoner
beckoned his minions, all of which jumped on to Erias' body and began
fight the comatose sorceress.
This sight was all that Faust had cared to see. With a cruel grin, or
one that Faust could have at least imagined, the summoner glared at him,
a crazed but euphoria-based laugh echoing from his mouth to the halls.
Faust was infuriated and extremely saddened by what had happened. The
sorceress had been his friend for no apparent reason; she had helped him
when he first arrived, and she had saved his life at least twice while he
was here! There was nothing he did to deserve her kindness, but she gave
it to him! And he killed her!!! Now fury began to fill Faust! With the
anger fueled by the actions of the summoner, and his own mgical will, he
dug into the ether to let out a last ditch strike of as many Den'Trag
ever seen.. But that was not what he got. His fury and anger were so
great, that a large vortex of ethereal energy began forming on his
outstretched palm. This vortex, much larger that that of the Den'Trag,
caught the attention of the summoner and his minions;
"What the Hell...!!!!!"
But his recognition was too late. With awesome skill for a first timer,
Faust hurled two long spikes of energy similar to the Den'Trag at the
minions of the summoner. However, he soon found out the difference in
this new technique. The long spikes of bone each impaled a minion of the
summoner, but kept going past the initial target. In this way, those two
spikes destroyed all of the summoner's minions. The summoner himself was
in for a shock as both spikes went through him as well, sending him
backward from the room. He hit the floor a resounding two times, once in
the back of the head, and another on his chin, from rebound. Now bits of
his helmet were coming off, and like a frightened mouse, he opened a
portal and ran through it, allowing Faust only to see a lock of white
hair characteristic to most necromancers.
He looked around, and then he saw a glint of something.. Of steel!! On
the ground there lay a fine dagger, made of the bone of a demon from what
Faust could gather. The dagger itself still lay in its sheath, and there
was a belt attached to it, but Faust could guess who it had belonged to.
With a walk of grief, and a face that reflected this emotion, he walked
back to the others, who he could see standing across the hall, waiting
for him.
The hall was now silent, but Penelope could feel the fear and despair
from her sisters and peers. Quite truly, she herself felt the same body-
numbing fear, the same chill. The Lesser Evils, well, two of them at
least, were now roaming the world and spreading their own brand of
misery, which Penelope guessed wouldn't be that much different from their
older cousins. For now everyone had kept their cool, and that was
something to be thankful for! Penelope looked down on the table, and
like the others, she couldn't help but notice the strange looking parcel
that jumped and jumbled all over the table... Was it getting stronger?
Whatever was in there, Penelope had a feeling that she wouldn't like it.
She looked again in the direction of the platform, but this time at the
speaker himself. He was an older man, somewhere in his mid twenties,
basically in middle age. The retelling of his story seemed to have
depressed him, for now he was holding his head in front of his face, and
his body was convulsing every now and then. Penelope couldn't help but
feel sorry for him, for she had seen what such a journey could do to
someone. Penelope had seen Erias, her teacher and mentor often times
break down because of flashbacks, old memories, and such. Oh how she
hated evil!!!
The silence had lasted only a minute before someone had finally spoke up.
It is common human reaction to begin denying the truth in the face of
fear, and this was what seemed to happen in the meeting hall. Someone,
whether it be an assassin, a sorceress, or a Vizjerei spoke out,
challenging the truth of this story, saying it was false. Like a tidal
wave, such opinions and their counters washed over the room, enveloping
all in a steady stream of noise. This noise had gone on for a while, and
it seemed like the paladin couldn't take it any more. He gripped his
ears like a madman, and crouched down where he stood. Finally, as if he
had finally broken, he let out a long scream, a shriek so terrible and
anguished that the whole hall went silent as a crypt.
"Enough!!!" The paladin screamed;
"If none of you believe me.."
Now the paladin was walking towards the table in the center of his
platform, where the bag was resting;
"If you do not believe me then I will show—"
He stopped suddenly. Without warning, a black fire enveloped the bag,
first melting away the dark inky spots of the protective runes, and then
fraying away the cloth of the bag itself. With that single ebony flame,
the world was witness to one of the most horrible things in history once
more, for now everyone in the room; sorceress, assassin, and sorcerer was
now gaping into the living, breathing, live head of Azmodan, the Lord of
Sin. His head was of black, leathery skin, while his ears were pointed
and wide like that of a bat, but they looked more like horns. His
leather skin was molded around what seemed to be a rather rectangular
shaped skull, with a misshaped size and back. His eyes were a sunken
deep into the skull, and seemed to bee almost pure darkness themselves,
with a small white pupil. The tongue of the head was long and forked,
and the small dark lips were formed into a twisted smile. The room was
utterly silent for what seemed like an eternity, but then the head spoke;
from its mouth bellowed an awful, horrible, completely earsplitting yell
of is own. Its eyes scanned the whole room itself, giving everyone
access into its evil eyes. When it looked upon their faces all it could
see was terror, and it laughed.
"Puny mortals, I am Azmodan, Lord of Sin and master of this world!! You
will all worship me, or die!!!!"
Before anyone else in the room could respond or react, the heads maw
gaped open, revealing rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth, all grossly
oversized and thin for a mouth that they had seen. Inside this mouth a
fiery portal to the very gates of Hell seemed to be open before them, and
into the room poured demons of indescribable terror. Fallen lesser
demons, Succubi of Azmodan's own harem, Unravellers that were Azmodan's
own personal attendants, Higher Demons that were privy to only the
highest levels of Hell, as well as Azmodan's own twisted Sinful Legions.
Undead souls from the Sin Wars and spanning all times, their skeletal
frames showed the talents of both warriors and mages. Within seconds
hundreds of these creatures had poured into the hall with a bloodlust
and craving for battle that transcended a millennia.
Penelope thought quickly, and the only thing she could think to do was to
attack. Firing a single bolt of lightning from her palm, she happen to
kill a row of three Fallen demons. This number was only an insignificant
fraction of the total, for the hall now had more demons inside it then
people!! Enraged by the loss of some of their 'brothers', the rest of
the demons charged with unforeseen rage. Nothing the people in the hall
could have imagined or trained with could have prepared them for this
image. Imagine over hundreds of Hell's minions staring you right in the
face, wanting nothing more than to vivisect you and feast on your living,
pulsating guts. Penelope, as well as the others in the audience stands
were frozen in terror, but ten people in the room were not. Their years
of working with their craft had honed their skills to the point where
they were able to call on them, even in a moment like this.
The first were the eight elders. In a spectacular show of skill, the old
Vizjerei mage crafted a large magical bubble all around the Elders, which
also acted to protect the people in the stands behind. So great was the
elder's control over his ability, that his shield had gained the trait of
a semi-permeable membrane, it was able to allow certain types of forces
in and out, while to others it barred all access. Because of this, it
gave the Elders a perfect environment to weave their craft. Brilliant,
almost majestic phenomenon were now happening all over the room, from
thunderous meteors to frigid thunderstorms, the demons almost seemed to
be off of their guard, and it looked as if they were retreating!!
The ninth person to react in tandem with the elders was Quirarri. The
elder Viz-Jaaq'Tar was by Ilfe's side for only a second when the demons
emerged, and she was gone. She appeared in a split second beside one of
the more troublesome Unravellers, who was soon kicked forcefully into a
group of other demons. The elder demon toppled backward, crushing
another group of his own minions. Quirrari had only allowed the demon to
be on the ground for a second, and then the razor sharp blades of her tri-
bladed wrist weapon into his throat, killing him. The next second, she
was up fighting demons and monsters once more, her single blade and
shield a flurry of motion as she sliced through the multitude of demons.
Like a demon herself, she was giving the demons mixed emotions, for they
couldn't tell if she was one of their own, or an enemy.
On a lesser note, Faust had been the first person overall to react to the
outpoor of demons. His work and life experience had left him nothing to
fear from the threats of the demon horde. Undaunted, he sent wave after
wave of Den'Trag into the coming waves of the demons. He had moved from
his original position and was now in the heat of the battle, on the side
of the rest of the incoming fury of creatures. Where were they all
coming from? Was Hell emptying its coffers? He himself had succeeded in
herding some of the demons into a smaller group, but they were still
coming on strong from all fronts.
Azmodan was annoyed. These puny mortals, just ten for the time being,
were putting up a fair fight against his own legions of Sin!! This would
not do!! Using a demonic form of telepathy, he began calling over a
demon known as a Venom Lord. Greatest of the great demons, this demon
would prove perfect for what he had planned...
The ten people didn't have to hold off the demons by themselves for long!
Soon the others assassins, mages, and sorcerers had realized the danger
to a more real level, and they had seen that demons were still mortal.
With a fury equal to their predecessors, they attacked. The sorceresses
launched their own methods of attacks through magic, while other
assassins had jumped into the fray with their leader. Ilfe, however, had
stayed back purposefully with a group of a dozen or so assassins for some
purpose. That had yet to be revealed, but the apparatae on their persons
gave some sort of hint.
Azmodan was lucky. No one had noticed his most powerful High Demon
walking towards the table and picking up his head. This would be
perfect! Soon it would be time to wreak his own form of havoc on the
mortals. Slowly, but surely, the demon began to place Azmodan's head on
top of his own. Acting like some warped organic helmet, Azmodan soon
enveloped the demon's cranium entirely. Now the demon was squirming and
clawing at Azmodan's head furiously, but to no avail! The demon had a
new body now, and he would make use of it. Soon black leathery, almost
armor-like skin covered the green flesh of the original demon, and the
body became slender, but denser with muscle. The wings of the demon
stayed intact, but instead of the conventional demon claws there were now
large, large talons, which were as hard as steel and almost scythe like
in design. The lord of Sin was back, and this time, he had a body!!!!
---
Correck V'Arr, the Vizjerei elder, was in for a moment of shock when the
new Azmodan appeared. Seeing the demon there in the 'flesh' wasn't
enough to topple him then, but the next action was. Pointing one long
finger at the old man, Azmodan sent a seething bolt of energy right
through his barrier, sending the elderly man reeling. As he recovered
from the shock of the blow, Correck could feel his shield waning. Could
he hold the demon by himself? The elders were doing their best to fight
off the horde of demons, but nothing seemed to ebb their tide. The portal
the demon had produced seemed to be its own entity now, so the demons
just kept coming!! Correck had no choice but to try to outlive the
storm.. Where on this Earth was the High Elder!!??
Penelope was covered in sweat, and almost exhausted. She had been
fighting the demons with her Zann Esu and Vizjerei partners for only
minutes, but they were still beginning to weigh on her mana. The portal
was never absent of a fiend, or group of fiends, and monsters were being
resurrected faster than they could destroy them! Thank the Heavens for
Correck V'Arr! The skillful mage had been all that had kept them alive
in the struggle, but he was only one man in the end. Azmodan would
outlast him soon if nothing was done! Penelope looked across at the
portal where the demons were appearing.. What was it that she saw?
Another portal? Who could be coming through??
Raeson Schelockna looked at his compatriot and smiled a devious smile,
which was returned by his companion. Slipping on their identical helmets
made of the skulls of demons, they both waited. It was time the Zann Esu
and Vizjerei had a taste of true dominance, but it would be better to
wait...
Faust could only stare in horror as the Lesser Evil finally acquired a
body of his own. This battle was useless! There was nothing they could
do to stop these demons!!! Something had to be done to save them all
before they were killed, but there was nowhere to run! Demons flooded
everywhere—Everywhere! Taking another swig of a mana potion, Faust let
loose another salvo of Den'Trag, missiles from the corporeal plain that
were doing their job at producing... Faust looked down, and paused for a
second, how could he have been so stupid!?
The dead produced corpses!!!
Azmodan was nearing his goal. The old Corrack V'Arr was a cunning mage,
yes, but even he could not stand up to the psychic blasts of Azmodan!
Again and again Azmodan pummeled the man's mind, over and over again
denting him, denting him, but he wouldn't break!! He was only and old
man, but his resilience was amaz-THERE! A hole in the man's magic
defenses! Azmodan's incessant attacking had worked! With even more
force, he attacked the man's weak point, causing a searing pain that even
he could feel the traces of.
Corrack V'Arr was a man, a brilliant man at that, but even his magical
prowess could not stand the blows of Azmodan!! It had only taken the
demon a few mind blows to reduce the old man to his knees, and his shield
reflected this. He tried with all his might to hold it, but he
couldn't....Darkness flooded his view.
Ilfe and the group of a dozen or so assassins was on the ready when they
saw the magical shield flicker. Corrack V'Arr was almost gone magically,
and without him the Elders were in major peril. This was where Ilfe and
her crew came in. Even though everyone else in the crew was older than
she was, Ilfe was known for her cunning work as a leader, so she was
given the most privileged position in the crew; they were the Elder
Guards. After the shield went down, and Corrack V'Arr had fallen to the
floor, Ilfe and her assassins were already in front of the elders.
Grouping all eight of them together, they, or those that were able, cast
innumerable bladed probes into the air, enchanted items of the Vizjerei.
These items floated around the group, protecting them from any advances
by the enemy. Ilfe reached into her armor, and pulled out a blue
lettered scroll. After uttering the word found on its surface, the
scroll disappeared and so did the Elders and part of their guard in a
flash of blue light.
It had taken Donanthan Aurthor a while to regain his senses. After his
nervous collapse, he had been on the floor, with demons swirling all
around him, but never daring to touch him. They saw the incinerated
remains of their comrades who had gotten too close, so they felt it best
to stay away themselves. After remaining consciousness, Aurthor seemed
to know what had happened. Instantly he drew his sword, Hellplague, and
sliced the head of a Fallen clean off. His shield was by his side, so he
quickly picked it up, and armed himself against the sea of demons that
would have liked nothing better than to tear out his throat. With his
large tower shield in hand, it seemed as if no demon could break through
his defenses. One would try, then get smote right into the demons behind
him, disabling more than just the demon who was hit in the first place.
He himself had proven quite an adversary for the demons, even if he was
only mortal. With powerful strokes of his sword and shield, he was able
to show the demons the true strength of Zakarum!
Azmodan had felt another magical presence in the room of the battle. He
had seen the second portal appear, but it did not seem to be a threat.
However, its magical signature was very different than something he would
normally have encountered in a place like this. Normally the auras of
Vizjerei, Zann Esu, Heralds, and even assassins had a more positive feel
to them, but this aura was different. It wasn't negative or positive in
magical alignment, almost puzzling. After scanning the room, however,
Azmodan saw what the source of the aura was. A lone Priest of Rathma
happened to be in the room, furiously fighting off demons with his
ethereal projectiles. Neither side seemed to be making progress, so
Azmodan decided to wreak a little havoc. With the elders gone, thanks to
that accursed guard, he was now unable to complete the objective he had
set, but that hadn't mattered, the target elder wasn't here anyway.
With a snarl, he jumped into the air and took flight thanks to the wings
of his new body, and with a fierce growl he landed in front of the
necromancer. Wielding a single scythe like talon from his evil fist, he
swiped at the necromancer, who ducked the blow. However, the
necromancer's crouch sent him directly into Azmodan's stone-hard knee,
knocking the wind out of him and sending him backward. As the young
priest stood up and coughed out a little blood from his injured mouth,
Azmodan smiled. He needed to vent his anger.
Before Faust could actually commit his plan of setting the room alight in
a blaze of exploding cadavers, he had attracted the attention of a much,
much more fearsome foe. The Lord of Sin himself felt it necessary that
he cause Faust at least as much torture as possible before taking out the
rest of the sorceresses, if they were indeed his targets. The demon
first attacked him with a claw, which Faust ducked. However, he could do
little to stop the demon's supernaturally quick knee from slamming into
his exposed face. Feeling his lips bust open, Faust couldn't help but
touch them as he felt to the ground. He hit the stone floor with a hard
thud, with bloody fingers. The dark image of the demon began to cower
over him, shear pleasure, if that was indeed possible, decorating his
face.
"I wasn't able to accomplish my objective, and that displeases me so.."
The demon said with a familiar snarl;
"However, I will enjoy burning your very mind to make up for it!!! This
is what happens when priests dabble in things they shouldn't!"
Now Faust felt the unbearable pain in his mind. It was akin to white-hot
flames of fire burning down the proverbial forest of his mind, in an
attempt to leave it bare and empty, which would mean death. Now, it was
not the death part Faust feared, but the pain of the demon's chosen
method was completely indescribable in any form of writing. With a
scream that would normally signal a thousand deaths, Faust clutched his
head in agony as he prepared for darkness...Then there was a flash! And a
crack of thunder! Immediately the pain stopped, and Faust, eyes closed,
was able to hear the voice of the demon fill his ears, itself seeming to
be marinated in terror;
"E-Erias?? You..You have grown..."
"Stronger." Came back the familiar female voice; it was the sorceress!!!
Faust opened his eyes to see her standing their, calm despite the ruckus
around her, staring down the profound evil. The demon's voice seemed to
grow confident now, and he uttered in a boastful, yet slightly shaky
voice;
"Well, It's nice to see you here Erias.. I suppose you've come to see
everyone before you die?"
Faust saw Erias give a small chuckle at this, and she sighed.
"You could say that.." She moved a little closer to Azmodan, and opened
her palm up a bit;
"If by that, you mean that I'm here to blow you back to the Burning
Hells!!!"
With that, a giant arc of lightning flew from her open palm, catching the
demon off guard. His strong body flew into the stone wall at least one
hundred feet away, taking a multitude of his minions with him. It seemed
that the demon was up for more of a fight than he thought.
Raeson looked back at his mysterious partner, who he knew only as the
Apothecary. A third, unknown apprentice to Faust, this person was a
rather strange necromancer, who specialized in the poison s of their
religion. He could summon minions too, not as good as Raeson in the long
run, but his summoning skills were deadly in conjunction with his
poisonous blade. Both of them could feel the presence of a new
individual, and it was powerful. His uncle had warned him of such a
person, apparently they were a highly dangerous magic user. However, he
also said that her appearance would be the time to strike. They were to
work in conjunction with some other, mysterious party in order to destroy
her. It seemed odd that the other party hadn't been mentioned except by
that premise, but it wasn't Raeson's place to ask questions like that.
With a determined nod, he stepped forward, directly followed by his
silent companion.
What they both saw was almost complete and total chaos. Behind the
visors of their bony helms, they saw sorceresses, Vizjerei, and
assassins, all fighting for their pathetic lives in a struggle against a
set of the most horrible demons both of them had ever seen! With a grim
grin, Raeson saw that these demons must have been the other 'mysterious
party'. It also seemed like they were doing rather well. After scanning
the room, he saw plenty of cadavers. Perfect. Raising his arm, wand in
hand, he called upon the forces of the dead, and pulled a sextuple set of
souls from that void of death. Exerting his will on their hopeless
spiritual mass, he forced them into the skeletal remains of the dead
demons on the floor, and molded their skeletal system to fit that of a
human. Now he had six of his own servants, minions to do his work.
Chuckling deeply, he turned to his apothecary friend, and nodded. The
Apothecary himself motioned to the different corpses that littered the
ground, and four such skeletons emerged for his use. Nodding to each
other, they set to work.
By this time, the other sorceress' and the mages, and the assassins had
realized what they were doing there, and were on the attack. However,
the skeletons had the drop on them. An assassin turned around in shock,
only to have her jugular sliced by the bony scythe one of Raeson's
skeleton's wielded. A surprised sorceress was successfully fending off
on of the Apothecary's own skeleton's, but the poison of the
necromancer's blade struck her down. Ah! The death that filled the room
was refreshing to both of them... Then they felt something strange.
Another one of them was present in this room.. Could it have been? Yes!
It was! Good ole cousin Faust was right here in this battle-ridden
chamber, and quite alive! Both of them looked at each other through
their helmets of bone; that was something they would have to rectify.
Penelope couldn't help but heave a heavy sigh when Erias had appeared.
Her teacher was thought of as the most powerful wizard of their age, and
perhaps ever. This was evident in her handling of Azmodan, short, quick,
and easy. After sending him into the wall, she had just stood their,
calm and collected. The demon was slowly getting up from his newfound
crevice inside the stone wall of the hall, and he didn't seem to happy.
Penelope saw Erias reach down into a small sheath on her leg before the
demon had completely stood up. That was all Penelope saw of the battle,
however, for soon she was attacked by another demon—or rather, a group of
demons! Forced to fight of the minions of the evil Azmodan, she had to
take her attention away from her mentor and concentrate on saving her own
skin.
Erias slowly withdrew the dagger she carried from its sheath on her leg.
Made of the bone of a certain demon slain, the dagger had been imbued
with power by a special Vizjerei wizard. Now Erias used the long spike
in her hunt of the minions of evil, but the way she used it was somewhat
unconventional. She began whirling the blade deftly in her small hand,
but Azmodan of all beings could see the power she wielded. With dodging
eyes he looked around the room, and he could see that one-on-one, he was
between a rock and a hard place. As he began to back away from Erias and
her weapon, he felt his demonic flesh collide with the stone of the
warped wall, a wall malfigured from his sudden collapse into it. Having
no other choice, he delved into his demonic magic, and created a
teleportation field around all of his own minions. After the field was
activated, all of Azmodan's minions created a venerable wall between
himself and the sorceress. As the sorceress' companions moved closer to
aid her, Azmodan could see her lift her free hand, stopping them.
Apparently, she thought that she could handle all of these demons by
herself.
Of all of the people who rallied to defend Erias, Faust was not one of
them. He would have been, of course, but he happened to be uncomfortably
preoccupied at the time. He began running towards his other...allies at
this time, however he was stopped!! Someone—Something wearing a helmet
of bone, and a style of chain mail that was almost exactly like his own
style of armor. With an air of alarm, he drew back from the individual,
right into their skeleton minions!! The skeleton he ran into had an
uncharacteristically strong grip, something that Faust wasn't really
expecting. These skeletons were strong, very strong, Faust could tell by
their structure. If the necromancer made this, he wasn't joking around
with his art! Alarmed even more by the 'death grip' of the animated
skeletal frame, Faust attempted to kick himself loose with no avail. He
could see the necromancer looking at him, and he could hear his steps,
even inside the tumultuous hall.
"Hello Faust, you do not know me, but your father has missed you very
much. He also, if I am not mistaken, does not want you to be with these
other mages, for the safety of the Priests, of course. So..."
"I'll have to kill you."
Azmodan smiled ruefully at the sorceress, who was now surrounded by an
innumerable amount of demons, with nothing but a puny bone dagger to
assist her in her battle. Even if her facial features didn't show it,
Azmodan could see tell that she was doomed, and perhaps she knew it, too.
However, mortals were often observed as being what demons would call
'retarded' when it came to their own eminent demise, so it wouldn't
surprise him if she thought she could actually win. Off in the distance,
Azmodan could see the arrival of two other necromancers! This was great,
for he had been told that he would be given assistance. However; if
'they' were already sending assistance, what would that mean for Azmodan?
His smile widened, became slyer, and he spoke;
"Be ready to feel the pain of death Erias!! There is nothing you and
that little knife can do to stop my minions and me!! Besides, if you
haven't noticed, your little necromancer is about to be killed by people
of his own kind? Are you going to try to save him again? Hmmm? You
sorceresses always did have a thing for fam-"
Something about the demon's speech had finally struck the nerve it was
targeting. In a moment's notice, Erias had dropped her calm cool
composure, and her face was alive with fury;
"THAT IS ENOUGH, AZMODAN!!" The words were said with such force that it
seemed like the demons and their commander were pushed back, closer to
the wall. The demons and spectators, however, seemed to write it off as
an effect. They didn't want to take much notice of it. Erias's calm
demeanor soon appeared again, and she was calm. Now she drew her
attention to the blade she held in her hand, but she laid it flat in her
palm.
"You would be surprised, Azmodan..." A mischievous, taunting grin crossed
her face; at the same time, the dagger she had laid in her palm began to
float in the air, and before any one could see anything else, it was
spinning!! It spun, and spun, faster and faster above her hand;
"I can do much with this 'little knife'." And with that, the blade shot,
almost of its own free will, into the crowd of demons, where it began
slicing and carving as if wielded by a ghost. With alarming, almost
unthinkable speed is moved quickly throughout the group of demons,
dissecting, bisecting, maiming, and killing. All around the demons
screamed as the magical blade rendered their flesh and bone, reducing
their group to pure remains. Looking up at Azmodan, Erias smiled, and
then beckoned her dagger back. It wiped itself clean, and landed back
into its sheath, unscathed.
The Elder Erias had captivated Donathan Aurthor as she decimated the
demon horde without so much as a bead of sweat. He had been a fool to
bring Azmodan here alive, but now he saw that he was even more of a fool
for trying to kill all of them. So far there were a few deaths for their
side, but not enough. Apparently the sorceress', mages, and assassins
had been focusing on demon slaying ever since the Hell Days. Aurthor was
well versed in fighting the minions of Hell himself, so he had been
relatively unscathed. He could see now that Azmodan was on the run as
far as fighting was concerned, and soon it would be time for Aurthor to
finish what he had started on his first journey. Looking down, Aurthor
saw that the large wooden hammer he had brought with him was still
attached to his armor. The ancient hammer had been a part of his attire
for so long that he hadn't acknowledged ever putting it on. However,
this hammer would be duly important in time.
Faust's adversary still had him trapped in the grip of one of his
minions, and Faust could see that the other five skeletons of the
necromancer were gathering around. This wouldn't be a fun thing to
experience, for all of the skeletons were burly, like the men of the
mountains Faust had heard about. This necromancer was obviously skilled,
more skilled than Faust had originally given him credit for. There was
no way that Faust himself could have taken all six of the necromancer's
pets, and himself. His musings of his own death were cut short, however,
as the necromancer let out a cackling laugh and then spoke;
"I realize perfectly well that my minions are capable of crushing you as
we speak, Faust, but I have a better idea for your fate. Instead of
killing you by crushing every bone in your body, I've decided it would be
better for you to have a poison so painful that you almost black out, but
stay conscious through the pain. Your body will want to die, but it
won't and you'll live through the torture of the poison.. Then, and only
then will I have my minions crush every bone in your body!!!!" After
this rant, another howling laugh left the lips of the crazed necromancer,
and Faust was now genuinely afraid of this man. He could almost see the
crazed smile in his imagined, featureless face. Slowly the man stepped
back, but his skeleton still took hold. Behind him was the second
necromancer. This necromancer, while attired similarly, had very
different implements. At his sides were two sheaths, the one on the
right very jagged and long, the other a straight point, and shorter than
the other. He walked forward, and drew out the long dagger. Faust could
see now that it was more like a short sword, but it was still too small
to be qualified as one, if just by a small margin. The necromancer held
the 'dagger to his face and showcased it to Faust in a delicate, almost
loving manner;
"It is a beautiful specimen.." The necromancer said in a very snakelike
voice, or at least that was how Faust related it. Faust also got a
better look at the dagger itself, and he could see that on its very hilt
there was a row of small, but still razor-like knives. The necromancer
stared at the dagger, almost analyzing it, and then he ran his fingers
along the blade, gingerly, however, so he wouldn't cut himself;
"The Jade Tan Do..." He said, in a voice full of reverence;
"This blade is one of a kind, a present from my master. The very blade
itself was imbued with a powerful poison by its crafter. Anyone it cuts
already goes through the pain of the razor sharp blade, and of course the
inlaid poison..."
The necromancer began sifting through his pack, and he pulled out a small
vile;
"I'm sure you have heard of this, being a priest.. This vile contains
the most powerful poison we are capable of producing, in fact, it is so
powerful, that I will need to repair this blade after use, because the
poison corrodes the blade so.. Prepare to feel the death of thousand!!"
The necromancer popped the lid off of the vile and spread the poison on
the blade and sides of the Jade Tan Do. The poison's presence on the
blade was announced with a small hiss, and Faust could tell that he was
in for a world of pain. At that time, all of the 'apothecary's' minions
grabbed Faust, and the summoner's original minion let him go, because he
wasn't needed. Now Faust couldn't even think of moving as the dagger
zoomed toward him in a deadly arch that rained poison. He knew the
others were too busy dealing with Azmodan to be of any assistance, so he
braced himself and watched as the daggers jagged blade punctured skin...
But not his!!! He opened his eyes wider to see that Erias, the sorceress
elder, had once again saved his life, this time by taking the attack.
Even for her, the poison was strong. She let out a scream that
reverberated throughout the hall;
"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"
The pure pain even caused both of the hostile necromancers to cringe,
even though they had expected something similar to Erias' reaction. As
the sorceress fell to the floor, the apothecary withdrew his blade
roughly and whirled it in his hand;
"It is no matter, she will be dead within a minute.. And you are
next!!!"
When Erias had been staring down Azmodan, she couldn't help but see his
eyes wander behind her to look at at something beyond. Slowly she turned
only to see.. The necromancer!!! Wait...Necromancers?? This was bad. The
necromancer she had saved was vital to the future of her clan, and her,
he couldn't die! Delving into the ether, she teleported, leaving Azmodan
alone. She teleported until she was in the middle of the necromancer,
Faust's boy, and his assailant. She was just in time to receive what she
remembered as the most painful blow of her life!! The jagged blade of
the dagger sliced through her skin like butter.. But the poison!!! Oh
gods the POISON!!!! With no restraint she let out the loudest,
bloodcurdling scream she could muster, and she almost blacked out. With
the unreal pain bearing down on her, she screamed, even as the blade was
withdrawn from her body.
The necromancer shoved her aside and moved towards Faust again. Having
no choice, Erias whirled around as quickly as she could with the poison's
effects, and grabbed on to the Necromancer's shoulders. White-hot
lightning ripped though his body, and sent him into convulsions. Now
both of them were feeling pain, but the necromancer was more prepared
than Erias was. When she had lost the energy and the feeling to pump any
more lightning into him, she began to collapse. All of his minions were
dead, but he was still alive, and slowly crawling into a portal. Erias
blacked out.
When Erias had gone back to help the poor necromancer, Donathan Aurthor
moved forward in order to engage the demon, Azmodan. He and the other
combatants in the area were now closing in on Azmodan. None had them had
known exactly where in the room Erias had gone to, but they knew she had
to still be here, for they could feel her magical energy. Now Azmodan
seemed particularly joyous since Erias was away, as could be seen in the
gleaming effect his eyes took whenever Aurthor stepped forward. The
demon's long, almost snakelike tongue drifted across his needle like
teeth, which had been bared when Erias had been her opponent. Now they
were clearly out in defiance and mocking of Aurthor. His voice was
filled with sarcasm, but the people around could detect the demonic
hostility just the same, for Aurthor was the one that captured him!!
"Don Donathan Aurthor... How nice to see you again! I remember our little
"confrontation" in the old Durance of Mephisto... Oh yes, I remember it
well. But I remember most clearly the way I was barred!!! Lift to
suffocate in a mortal bag!!! The cursed Horadrim, Cain!!! Those bags he
made were designed for the specific purpose of holding smaller demons,
but you seemed to have found a better use for them!!!! For that you will
pay!!!!!!!"
Without any warning except for his increased psychotic nature, Azmodan
flew forward and began to converge on Aurthor, using his demonic power to
channel great amounts of dark energy through his long, scythe like claws.
The energy took the form of a great purple flame that enveloped each
hand in demonic fury. However terrible this power was, however, Aurthor
didn't seem to be phased, or even afraid by it. He stood as the demon
got closer and closer to his original position, but didn't actually move
until a little more than a yard separated him from Azmodan. With
conviction, he lifted up the heavy shield of his ancestor, held it in
front of him, and ran at almost demonic speed. With a large 'crash' he
collided shield-first with Azmodan, causing the latter, who was already
in a rather weakened state, to fly backwards once more up against his
familiar stone wall. However, the attack and impacts of Aurthor's attack
were too much for Azmodan's physical body this time. Instead of getting
up, now he flopped back down to the ground, head cocked sideways in a
dazed position. He was too tired to continue on the fight, thanks mostly
to Erias and the paladin in front of him. Out of exhaustion, and only
out of exhaustion, he let his prize go... The skin on his forehead receded
back, revealing a gem of purple hue that would have been the most
beautiful jewel in existence, had it not been the life force of something
completely evil.
Now the demon called back, weakly of course, but still enough to have
voice in the room;
"It seems that you have exposed my Stone.. Congratulations on your part,
that took some skill.. But I'm afraid, Paladin, that at this point there
is nothing you can do to stop me from healing now. No weapon, no skill,
no nothing will stop me, because you have nothing with you capable of
destroying my Soulstone!!!!"
The demon let out a maniacal laugh, but Don Aurthor wasn't listening.
Slowly he reached down and took the large, one-handed hammer off of a
brace in a thigh plate of his armor. With one hand he hefted it, then he
gripped it tightly. Azmodan had just seen what he had held, and it
seemed that he of all people knew what it was! His large, sunken eyes
seemed to get larger and sink deeper inside at the sight of the weapon in
Aurthor's hand;
"No!!! NOOO!! It can't be!!! Not the Hellfor-"
That was as far as Azmodan got in his plea for help, for Don Aurthor had
drawn back the hammer and slammed its head into the stone set into the
cranium of the demon. With an explosion fitting for a Lesser Evil, the
stone was destroyed, and all that was left of Azmodan and his minions was
burning away, as if some imaginary fire had been set on all of the
carcasses. Aurthor, Penelope, Ilfe and the others around them had let
out a cheer, but they did not know that the battle still waged for some
of their allies.
Erias now lay on the cold, stony floor of the desecrated meeting hall.
In other parts of the room, she might have been able to hear the
cheering, but to her all was silent. The two necromancers around her,
however, could see that her blood was still moving, and she was still
breathing, though rather weakly. To one of the necromancer's, this was a
blessing, to other, it seemed like nothing more than an annoyance. Now
Faust and his helmeted nemesis stood, face to face. However, the odds
were not even. It had only been seconds before Erias had dealt with the
Apothecary, and now the summoner was taking his own course of action. In
front of an emotionally battered and despairing Faust, the summoner
beckoned his minions, all of which jumped on to Erias' body and began
fight the comatose sorceress.
This sight was all that Faust had cared to see. With a cruel grin, or
one that Faust could have at least imagined, the summoner glared at him,
a crazed but euphoria-based laugh echoing from his mouth to the halls.
Faust was infuriated and extremely saddened by what had happened. The
sorceress had been his friend for no apparent reason; she had helped him
when he first arrived, and she had saved his life at least twice while he
was here! There was nothing he did to deserve her kindness, but she gave
it to him! And he killed her!!! Now fury began to fill Faust! With the
anger fueled by the actions of the summoner, and his own mgical will, he
dug into the ether to let out a last ditch strike of as many Den'Trag
ever seen.. But that was not what he got. His fury and anger were so
great, that a large vortex of ethereal energy began forming on his
outstretched palm. This vortex, much larger that that of the Den'Trag,
caught the attention of the summoner and his minions;
"What the Hell...!!!!!"
But his recognition was too late. With awesome skill for a first timer,
Faust hurled two long spikes of energy similar to the Den'Trag at the
minions of the summoner. However, he soon found out the difference in
this new technique. The long spikes of bone each impaled a minion of the
summoner, but kept going past the initial target. In this way, those two
spikes destroyed all of the summoner's minions. The summoner himself was
in for a shock as both spikes went through him as well, sending him
backward from the room. He hit the floor a resounding two times, once in
the back of the head, and another on his chin, from rebound. Now bits of
his helmet were coming off, and like a frightened mouse, he opened a
portal and ran through it, allowing Faust only to see a lock of white
hair characteristic to most necromancers.
He looked around, and then he saw a glint of something.. Of steel!! On
the ground there lay a fine dagger, made of the bone of a demon from what
Faust could gather. The dagger itself still lay in its sheath, and there
was a belt attached to it, but Faust could guess who it had belonged to.
With a walk of grief, and a face that reflected this emotion, he walked
back to the others, who he could see standing across the hall, waiting
for him.