Welcome back to the Diabolico Zone, Ladies and Gentlemen; he's back! Boy it
feels good to be writing once again, and I hope none of my old readers will
forsake me for my stint of AWOL a little while ago. I am back to work and
cranking out more and more tales of terror and delight, (I hope) but
please, help me out here, I've only got a basic outline of what I want to
do with the ending and the characters so fill me in on what you want to
see!
Durag saw the demon hiss and tremble as he concentrated on his spell. He is terrified of you. He thought to himself. Use that. And so he did. The monster, stepping tentatively towards the lone sorcerer, drew quick, halting breaths into it's gaping mouth, it's fangs dried of poison from it's labored breathing, it clicked it's claws, looking for a suitable opportunity to attack. Durag concentrated hard, and, pulling the shadows from his surroundings, drawing strength from the storm still raging outside, and delving deep into the recesses of the demon mind before him, he suddenly thrust his hand forcibly towards his adversary.
Expecting some physical melee, the monstrosity recoiled instinctively, drawing it's deadly limbs about it's face and eyes to protect itself, but no blows came, and the creature quickly recovered. It peered venomously from behind its claws. The Necromancer was no longer there, only darkness encompassed the spider creature's vision. It blinked it's eyes as a dreadful image suddenly exploded into it's sight; the dark lord himself, the creator was before him! Cursing him! Charging him! A sea of fire and torment awaited the helpless demon, whose many legs had suddenly decided to stop responding to it's mind's pleas to run, run as fast as they could!
Durag watched as the monster screamed in horror and thrashed blindly at it's eyes. The pitiful beast was hallucinating. The Necromancer had harnessed the spider demon's worst fear and turned it loose upon him. Watching the monster tear it's eyes to pieces made the Sorcerer shudder. What could he be thinking about? Then he realized he didn't care. Walking silently up to the now whimpering and writhing monster, the Necromancer drove his sword unceremoniously into its lowest eye. One final shudder of pain and shock racked the beast's body, and it laid still, its giant corpse staining the stone floor green.
Racing towards the bone wall, now, Durag swept his hand and the gleaming fortress fell to pieces and evaporated. Bometh lay unresponsive on the floor, his shattered staff still gripped in his fist.
"Priest!" Cried the Necromancer, "Priest do not die!" he called, laying his hands on the poisoned man's forehead. He was still alive, so far as Durag could tell, but barley. Thinking quickly, he reached into one of his belt packs and pulled from it a lone jar full of black fluid. He always kept one bottle of antidote for himself, in case he ever accidentally poisoned himself; now he slipped the dark contents into Bometh's parched mouth. "Drink, damn you!"
The Priest coughed and gagged on the syrupy fluid and rolled his eyes up at the ceiling far above. Durag rolled him onto his side. Bometh vomited. Still unconscious, he fluttered his eyes and his pale skin flushed. The antidote had worked! Durag dragged the heavy man over to the near door and locked it tight, propping the priest against the wall next to the heavy door.
"Stay put, priest." He said to the immobile form. Then he walked over to the Spider corpse. "We've got some unfinished business, me and you." He whispered, and, casting his hand over the lifeless form, began to mutter a string of chants and ancient incantations. The spider's claw moved. Then it's whole arm twitched, and, the greenish skin, now black as night, glowed blue as the corpse slowly stood upon it's legs once more, it's eyes, glowing bright blue and lifeless, stared at the Necromancer in the gloomy room.
"Khan-Dar, Heluile." the Sorcerer said. "Take me to the sorceress." The monster, in two strides, reached the opposite doorway and tore it open for it's new master. Steps led upwards, and the ghastly pair ran up them.
Meanwhile, miles below the cathedral in the bowels of the earth, Damathodor faced off with the Guardian of the Gates of Hell. The foul vampire hovered menacingly before the gate at the end of the chamber, and fire leapt from the pool of blood surrounding the room.
"Look, Knight, look upon your comrades in arms! All fallen! All drained by my lips!" she screamed in glee. Arms, drenched in blood and lifeless, reached up fro the blood, and faces too arose, moaning piteously for help, for a savior. Damathodor shuddered as he saw one Knight's soul, torn from head to toe, pull itself almost out of the pool of misery and reach weakly for the Demoness' feet. She waved her clawed fingers and the apparation was sent squealing back into the blood whence it had crawled. "They all challenged my power, and they all paid the price!"
"Vile demon! Fly now from me, before I add you to the myriad of evil souls I have cleansed with this, the blade of Athos!" Damathodor shouted above her laughter, bringing his shield to bear and his sword into his defense stance.
"You shall not be allowed to face my master in Hell, pity mortal!" came the reply. Damathodor, set for the attack, lunged at this last resolution from his nemesis and brought his blade slicing through the thick air. The demoness was too quick for him, in an instant she had vanished and reappeared behind him, laughing. She thrust a talon at the Knight and sent a black shard flying at his form. Damathodor was nearly knocked backwards with the force of the impact, and he looked in surprise to find the shard jutting from his thick armor, just over his heart.
"The maggot's skin is thick!" hissed the devilish fiend above him, "But our claws are sharp!" and with that she whirled down upon him, dropping, hands outstretched to rend and tear him to pieces. Damathodor leapt clear and brought his sword upwards in the act, feeling it contact flesh, he turned the blade and had enough time to see with satisfaction one clawed hand drop bleeding to the floor.
The demon screeched impossibly loud in her agony, cursing the Knight furiously in a hell-borne tongue. In retaliation Damathodor had to cover himself with his shield for an onslaught of five razor sharp talons. THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! They all sunk deep into the mighty shield, but not through. Charging at full speed, the Paladin leapt in mid-run to tackle the creature and bring his sword into her head, but once again the monster vanished in a flash and appeared behind the Knight as he landed with a heavy thud.
The Paladin realized grimly, as the creature blasted yet another set of shards at him, that he would need to put a halt to her transporting abilities if he wanted to defeat her. He concentrated hard on the coldest regions of Mount Arreat that he could think of, summoning all the natural fury and cold of the strongest blizzard. His breath blasted out in steam in the suddenly cold air. The laughter and taunting of the demoness slowed then stopped, she looked about her, confused.
"aaaaaaAAAARRRRRUUUKK!!!" cried the Knight, thrusting his strong arms out and sending a wave of cold and ice blasting from his form into the room. Catching the creature off-guard, the ice wall enveloped and froze her solid, her surprised and terrified expression gazing blankly through the ice. Damathodor, rising to his knees, thanked the heavens for his salvation and summoned a mighty force from the powers above. "Thus ends your reign of terror on my order, so it was said, let it be done." He said to the frozen monster, and, bringing his fist down upon the ice figure, smashed it into millions of scattered pieces.
The blood from the streams in the wall turned to water, pure and good, and the fires and pool of red blood dissolved and left the same. Damathodor walked up to the gate. The very gate to Hell itself, and touched it with his hand. No sooner had he done this than he felt himself dragged violently into a gaping red portal and into confusion and pandemonium . . .He was being transported to Hell itself, where the final battle awaited him . . .
Durag saw the demon hiss and tremble as he concentrated on his spell. He is terrified of you. He thought to himself. Use that. And so he did. The monster, stepping tentatively towards the lone sorcerer, drew quick, halting breaths into it's gaping mouth, it's fangs dried of poison from it's labored breathing, it clicked it's claws, looking for a suitable opportunity to attack. Durag concentrated hard, and, pulling the shadows from his surroundings, drawing strength from the storm still raging outside, and delving deep into the recesses of the demon mind before him, he suddenly thrust his hand forcibly towards his adversary.
Expecting some physical melee, the monstrosity recoiled instinctively, drawing it's deadly limbs about it's face and eyes to protect itself, but no blows came, and the creature quickly recovered. It peered venomously from behind its claws. The Necromancer was no longer there, only darkness encompassed the spider creature's vision. It blinked it's eyes as a dreadful image suddenly exploded into it's sight; the dark lord himself, the creator was before him! Cursing him! Charging him! A sea of fire and torment awaited the helpless demon, whose many legs had suddenly decided to stop responding to it's mind's pleas to run, run as fast as they could!
Durag watched as the monster screamed in horror and thrashed blindly at it's eyes. The pitiful beast was hallucinating. The Necromancer had harnessed the spider demon's worst fear and turned it loose upon him. Watching the monster tear it's eyes to pieces made the Sorcerer shudder. What could he be thinking about? Then he realized he didn't care. Walking silently up to the now whimpering and writhing monster, the Necromancer drove his sword unceremoniously into its lowest eye. One final shudder of pain and shock racked the beast's body, and it laid still, its giant corpse staining the stone floor green.
Racing towards the bone wall, now, Durag swept his hand and the gleaming fortress fell to pieces and evaporated. Bometh lay unresponsive on the floor, his shattered staff still gripped in his fist.
"Priest!" Cried the Necromancer, "Priest do not die!" he called, laying his hands on the poisoned man's forehead. He was still alive, so far as Durag could tell, but barley. Thinking quickly, he reached into one of his belt packs and pulled from it a lone jar full of black fluid. He always kept one bottle of antidote for himself, in case he ever accidentally poisoned himself; now he slipped the dark contents into Bometh's parched mouth. "Drink, damn you!"
The Priest coughed and gagged on the syrupy fluid and rolled his eyes up at the ceiling far above. Durag rolled him onto his side. Bometh vomited. Still unconscious, he fluttered his eyes and his pale skin flushed. The antidote had worked! Durag dragged the heavy man over to the near door and locked it tight, propping the priest against the wall next to the heavy door.
"Stay put, priest." He said to the immobile form. Then he walked over to the Spider corpse. "We've got some unfinished business, me and you." He whispered, and, casting his hand over the lifeless form, began to mutter a string of chants and ancient incantations. The spider's claw moved. Then it's whole arm twitched, and, the greenish skin, now black as night, glowed blue as the corpse slowly stood upon it's legs once more, it's eyes, glowing bright blue and lifeless, stared at the Necromancer in the gloomy room.
"Khan-Dar, Heluile." the Sorcerer said. "Take me to the sorceress." The monster, in two strides, reached the opposite doorway and tore it open for it's new master. Steps led upwards, and the ghastly pair ran up them.
Meanwhile, miles below the cathedral in the bowels of the earth, Damathodor faced off with the Guardian of the Gates of Hell. The foul vampire hovered menacingly before the gate at the end of the chamber, and fire leapt from the pool of blood surrounding the room.
"Look, Knight, look upon your comrades in arms! All fallen! All drained by my lips!" she screamed in glee. Arms, drenched in blood and lifeless, reached up fro the blood, and faces too arose, moaning piteously for help, for a savior. Damathodor shuddered as he saw one Knight's soul, torn from head to toe, pull itself almost out of the pool of misery and reach weakly for the Demoness' feet. She waved her clawed fingers and the apparation was sent squealing back into the blood whence it had crawled. "They all challenged my power, and they all paid the price!"
"Vile demon! Fly now from me, before I add you to the myriad of evil souls I have cleansed with this, the blade of Athos!" Damathodor shouted above her laughter, bringing his shield to bear and his sword into his defense stance.
"You shall not be allowed to face my master in Hell, pity mortal!" came the reply. Damathodor, set for the attack, lunged at this last resolution from his nemesis and brought his blade slicing through the thick air. The demoness was too quick for him, in an instant she had vanished and reappeared behind him, laughing. She thrust a talon at the Knight and sent a black shard flying at his form. Damathodor was nearly knocked backwards with the force of the impact, and he looked in surprise to find the shard jutting from his thick armor, just over his heart.
"The maggot's skin is thick!" hissed the devilish fiend above him, "But our claws are sharp!" and with that she whirled down upon him, dropping, hands outstretched to rend and tear him to pieces. Damathodor leapt clear and brought his sword upwards in the act, feeling it contact flesh, he turned the blade and had enough time to see with satisfaction one clawed hand drop bleeding to the floor.
The demon screeched impossibly loud in her agony, cursing the Knight furiously in a hell-borne tongue. In retaliation Damathodor had to cover himself with his shield for an onslaught of five razor sharp talons. THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! They all sunk deep into the mighty shield, but not through. Charging at full speed, the Paladin leapt in mid-run to tackle the creature and bring his sword into her head, but once again the monster vanished in a flash and appeared behind the Knight as he landed with a heavy thud.
The Paladin realized grimly, as the creature blasted yet another set of shards at him, that he would need to put a halt to her transporting abilities if he wanted to defeat her. He concentrated hard on the coldest regions of Mount Arreat that he could think of, summoning all the natural fury and cold of the strongest blizzard. His breath blasted out in steam in the suddenly cold air. The laughter and taunting of the demoness slowed then stopped, she looked about her, confused.
"aaaaaaAAAARRRRRUUUKK!!!" cried the Knight, thrusting his strong arms out and sending a wave of cold and ice blasting from his form into the room. Catching the creature off-guard, the ice wall enveloped and froze her solid, her surprised and terrified expression gazing blankly through the ice. Damathodor, rising to his knees, thanked the heavens for his salvation and summoned a mighty force from the powers above. "Thus ends your reign of terror on my order, so it was said, let it be done." He said to the frozen monster, and, bringing his fist down upon the ice figure, smashed it into millions of scattered pieces.
The blood from the streams in the wall turned to water, pure and good, and the fires and pool of red blood dissolved and left the same. Damathodor walked up to the gate. The very gate to Hell itself, and touched it with his hand. No sooner had he done this than he felt himself dragged violently into a gaping red portal and into confusion and pandemonium . . .He was being transported to Hell itself, where the final battle awaited him . . .