SprylliNES IV: The Eternal Myth

[Anonymoose]

Arrival at the scene.

Spoiler :

Frast kneeled in the knee-high moss of the shaded hillside. He could see the massacred camp ahead. The blood was visible, even from this distance. Truly, some mighty beast must have happened upon them in the deep dark of the night. These, not amateurs, but seasoned hunters, were shredded and at least partially consumed. As soon as he stepped into the perimeter of the camp, he knew that even more rumors were going to spread. They were already talking about fairy folk in the wood preying on us weak mortals, and this was only going to spur them on. Productivity was going to drop unless the problem gets resolved.

Closer Investigation.

Spoiler :

He told the hunters investigating with him to stay back so he could trace the events more clearly. A rustling in the bush startled him, and brought his attention to an abnormal hole in the trees. Frast sniffed the wind. It was time to trust his gut. Something unnatural had come through... but what? He belted his ax to his back and crawled into the wood. The smell of decay was obvious, along with what could be described as a smoky scent. Sulfurous, not unlike the incenses made back home... Frast found an unusual, though incomplete, track. He couldn't tell what had created it, but it was not anything native to these parts.

The Truth.

Spoiler :

Damn it, Frast cursed to himself, this needs to be solved now. He briefly entertained the thought of some black-winged beast of smoky visage. He crawled from the wood and tried to see the camp as the animal, or whatever it was, would have seen it. He noted the remnants of the tents. He saw the fire... was oddly extinguished. Half-burnt logs were not extinguished with water, but perhaps by some strong gale from the... north? No. No gale would come THROUGH the forest... Some dark work was afoot here. Frast closed his eyes and considered the possibilities. A madman roaming the woods? Not possible. Seasoned hunters don't get caught unawares by madmen. The foolish bastards across the lake? Nonsense, they barely remembered that there were relatives across the lake at all. A bear? A wolverine? neither made sense, when that mysterious track is taken into consideration. Frast felt silly. Any sailor, ploughboy or baker back home would unblinkingly answer 'Fairie folk did it.' But the footprint.. was not that of some fair trickster. It was the abominable track of some wretched creature. He forced himself to consider it.. the myths, the rumors, all of the stories of the wizened family-heads potentially true. So it was.. and as he accepted it, the hairs on the back of his neck raised. A gale from deep in the wood blew his graying locks into his eyes. He turned and witnessed the very beast of his musings.

The Culprit.

Spoiler :

The obscure features seemed to shift from one nightmarish glare to another. Frast grabbed his ax and backed away from the beast. It, whatever it was, stepped into the remnants of the old camp's fire, raised its veined wings and pointed its arms toward Frast. The monstrosity rasped at Frast:
"Arrogant child, you come to the woods of your home's legends to tempt me? You leave the tender rays of the sun and the forgiving waters of the lake to hunt in MY home?!"

Frast was dumbstruck. "Y-you... I have not... s-seen..."

The smoky visage cleared to show the fast-aging face of a man, woman, beast, sunrise and set, red moon, flaming trees, all unnatural pain in the world, and heart-stopping beauty and the beast interrupted Frast.

"You have seen nothing. And you will die knowing nothing. Goodbye, hideous Frast, unloved by your brethren, you will spend eternity feasting on your own entrails. I own your soul now."


Frast squared his jaw and ignored the taunting grate of the thing's voice.

"Come then, demon. Come and feel the cold bite of Frast's Ax.

The Face-off.

Spoiler :

The Beast's wings folded, and it ran toward Frast, claws bared and gleaming with unnatural light. It overestimated its prowess, though, and Frast side-stepped the lunge. It growled with embarrassment and utter hatred and lunged again. Frast deflected one claw with his ax and caught the other wrist with his own hand. With a howl, he headbutted the demon. The move cost Frast a couple of seconds, because the demon's head was much harder than his own. He shook his head and cleared his thoughts again. The demon was trying to bite, but could not reach. It beat its wings and flew back from Frast. It dove and clipped Frast's back with a wingtip. A thin red line formed and blood spilled down the small of Frast's back. Frast groped on the ground for a rock, and tossed the first one he could reach at the flapping monstrosity. It did nothing but anger the thing. It landed and lunged again. Frast tried to block again, but the claws found their way around his defenses and grazed his right collar bone and his left bicep. Frast took this opportunity to dig the ax into the demon's flesh, to give it a taste of its own cruel methods. The thing hissed and clawed away from the ax. Its bite was cold indeed. Some milky white fluid poured down the thing's torso, and it fled into the wood. Frast pursued.

The Trial.

Spoiler :

Its wings were virtually worthless here, but its speed on foot was remarkable. Frast marveled at the capabilities of this thing, which he assumed mortally wounded. He lost sight of it, but pressed on. It showed itself on the opposite of a clearing, and it taunted Frast.

"If I wish, Frast, I could open a rift that would swallow you and this forest whole. You would be utterly consumed, and there would be no hope for you foolish men."

Frast was overcome with sudden darkness and pain deep inside of his core. It upset him so profoundly that he could barely claw his way back up from the depths of despair to parry the next mental onslaught aimed at him. He could smell that same sulfurous odor, and could see the rift forming beneath his feet. He looked to the demon and saw its visage clearly, that of his father, or mother, or clan elder at any given moment. It was deep in a trance, and Frast knew he was doomed, and yet the ground felt solid enough. He somehow wanted to accept death, but saw through this ordeal as nothing but an illusion. Then the next wave of despair hit him. This time was nothing, because Frast saw the light of truth exposing the dark charades of the beast. He crossed the threshold and approached the demon, still entranced, convinced that it had fooled Frast. Frast swung his ax.

The Repercussions

Spoiler :

He severed the left arm, then the right. He severed the legs at the knee. The beast wailed a tremendous and profound scream of true pain, one that it had heard many times, no doubt. Frast grabbed it by the wings and pulled each one from their respective sockets. The beast wailed and wailed. Frast rubbed his now-messy hands on his kilt. He grabbed the ax firmly and separated the still-wailing head from the torso. Entirely dismembered, Frast felt safe turning back to camp. When he turned, he saw the eyes of the hunters looking back at him with disbelief.
"Head back home, boys. No more fairies around here."
They turned and approached the old camp. They gave the scattered remains a proper burial before going back. None of them spoke, they just pondered the barbaric ferocity of their normally calm leader, a man whose level-headedness had disappeared when he began dismembering that... thing. They also pondered the fresh disturbed look that Frast's eyes had taken on. Productivity didn't drop, but the rumors did fly.

 

[KaiserElectric]

"Is the camp of the Ax-Lord plagued with divisions every time hard times come around?" Ariel the Pious complained aloud.

"It would seem so, my liege," Turin replied to his lord.

Ariel shook his golden head in dismay as he walked towards the square. It was hard enough having to court both the foreign invaders into leaving the people alone. It was another thing when his own leadership was contested. Was he not the only descendant of Midnas Ax-Lord heir to the throne? Was he not the one chosen to lead the people?

"Turin, why does my camp doubt my leadership? My uncle's death was natural, was it not? I have not ascended to the throne by way of deceit.

"My Lord, I should hope not." Turin said, his face an emotionless mask. Behind his face, he knew the reason behind the people doubting him. It was an ancient treasure, an heirloom of the Ax-Lord family line. The Midnas Axe, as it had been called, had been handed down through eight names of the Ax-Lord's house. Forged by Midnas Ax-Lord himself, the fearsome warrior became a legend through the use of the axe. Years had no effect on the axe, as it cut and handled as though Midnas had pulled the weapon from the forge the night before. According to legend, the Midnas Axe was said to have an enchantment placed on by a witch seven generations earlier, as a gift to her lover, Mirius Ax-Lord, son of Midnas Ax-Lord. The blade was said to be impervious to damage of any kind, and usable only by the leader of the Ax-Lord clan. It was only a legend. but Turin knew how easily the commoners accepted legends as reality. Indeed, Ariel the Pious had sheepskin wrapped around the handle of the axe now hanging from his belt. If Ariel could not touch the blade, then maybe he wasn't the true leader. But who else could it be?

Finally Turin and Ariel reached the square. All of the clansmen had gathered to hear the proclamation of their new leader, and were awaiting the decision with ecstasy. Ariel climbed to a higher platform to deliver his speech.

"My countrymen," Ariel announced. "I have spent many a night pondering the fate of our people, given the demands handed to us by the noble Gemorans and the honorable Mopolachesthents."
A murmur of discontent rose from the back of the crowd. Ariel's eyes narrowed, waiting for the noise to stop. Satisfied, he continued his speech.
"It is clear to me, that for the survival of our city, we must acquiesce to the demands of those who surround us."
Anger rose like a cobra from the people.

"Fie!"

"Unworthy!"

"Slime!"

"Treachery!"

"People!" Ariel pleaded. "We must give in to the demands of our enemies, else death will follow us to..."

The sound of a crossbow discharge echoed through the square. Ariel lurched forward, collapsing in a crumpled heap. A pool of blood formed around the bolt jammed into his back. Several women shrieked in horror, and the people recoiled from the body in shock.

"Deceiver!" a voice from high above the people shouted.

More screams were heard as a figure swung down from above on a rope, landing over the body of Ariel the Pious. The assassin had long, raven black hair, fiery green eyes, and an athletic body clothed in leather armor, prepared for battle. A lightweight crossbow was held in her hands, freshly fired.

"Who are you, wench?" Turin shouted in fury, unsheathing his sword.

She threw down the crossbow and strode forward to address the crowd.

"I am your leader!" she shouted.

The clansmen were speechless at this proclamation. Even Turin lowered his sword skeptically to here the woman speak.

"My name is Myra Ax-Mistress, daughter of Midnas Ax-Lord the Younger!" she proclaimed to the amazement of all who were there. "I am here to take back the throne of my people from my unworthy half-brother!"

"Liar!" Turin shouted, along with several in the crowd. "Midnas had no children, his only heir was Ariel the Pious. Now you have left us without our leader!"

Myra bent over the body of Ariel the Pious, pulling off the glove on his right hand.

"Look at his fingertips! They are burnt red. Burnt by the Midnas Axe!"

Pulling out a dagger, Myra cut the hand from the corpse and gave it to the villager standing closest to her. Gazing in awe, he saw that his hand was indeed burned.

"The Axe is enchanted! The legend is real!" Myra shouted to the heavens. "The Midnas Axe has not accepted Ariel the Spineless, because he is not the true heir. I am the heir to the Ax-Lord's throne, not this man!"

"LIAR!"

Turin gave a roar of rage and charged at Myra with his sword. Moving quickly, she pulled the axe off the belt and swung it around. She easily deflected the blade and struck Turin in the chest with the axe. Turin's eyes widened in shock, seeing the Axe in her hand, the sheepskin torn off by the belt.

"You...are...my Queen," he said with his last breath. Myra pulled the axe out of his chest, leaving his body to fall to the ground.

The townspeople looked on the entire scene with shock. Myra Ax-Mistress turned back to the crowd.

"My people! For too long, we have been cowering behind the walls of this city, unwilling to fight our enemies. Are we not the greatest warriors of all? Have we not fought to defend our livelihood for eight generations? Have we not given a river of blood to fight against the monster which plagued our walls? Why then, shall we cower before an army of foreign dogs and let them move about us as we please, raping our daughters and sisters and stealing the lands we have fought to defend for so long?"

"NO!" roared the crowd.

"Then gather your weapons!" Myra commanded. "We will cut through all who oppose us with the steel of our forges and the spirit of my forefathers! We will destroy the drunken Gemorans and lay waste to the ships of the Mopolachesthents! Death is nothing compared to dishonor! Whether we win or lose, we will instill in the hearts of our enemies that we will never lie down for them! We are warriors! We will fight as warriors, and we will die as warriors! As millions of generations go by, and the walls of this city crumble against deadly foes, not one man will dare question the might of the Ax-Lord!"

The Ax-Lord's people roared as one and went to prepare for battle. Ariel's body lay forgotten in the square, as the mob of people scattered to gather weapons and armor. War was coming, and whatever the outcome, the fate of the Ax-Lord's clan dangled on the edge of death.

 

[Freemanuncg]

For years he had roamed the countryside wrecking havoc, laying waste to all who came within the grasp of his claws. For long years he had made his home is the deep darkness of the forest, and it became ever deeper and ever darker. Hundreds had fallen before him yet some always remained forever haunted by the horror of what they had seen and felt. Darkness consumed their souls ever more, and most succumbed quickly to madness and soon death.

He was pure evil his soul bled into the souls of those who suffered and died at his hands and drug them screaming into hell.

Until that day, he stood smiling down at the corpses of the hunters he had slain, these fool who had dared enter his domain. Ravens had eaten the eyes and had begun feasting on the flesh; they took wing when other men began to approach. These men would die like all others; Caacrinolas could not wait to see the blood run red from them.

Confident in my power, wrapped in shadow, I watched him approach the big man coming forward alone his subordinates staying back. Their fear and disgust was palpable, beautiful, they would soon watch their leader die. There were few like this one who walked amongst the living, a powerful man, descended from powerful men hard as the land they ruled outside the protective walls of the accursed city. His people had suffered greatly at my hands and amongst them were many stories of the nameless terror that stalked men in the night.

And yet he felt no fear. Disgust yes anger yes at the deaths of these innocent citizens, but true fear was something unknown to him. Caacrinolas would test his mind, the man froze as the air grew heavy around him and he turned to see the demon standing before him.

"Arrogant child, you come to the woods of your home's legends to tempt me? You leave the tender rays of the sun and the forgiving waters of the lake to hunt in MY home?!" would he fall prey to the terrors and mind rending horrors that had left so many warriors weeping in pools of blood. He mocked the stuttering human saying "You have seen nothing. And you will die knowing nothing. Goodbye, hideous Frast, unloved by your brethren, you will spend eternity feasting on your own entrails. I own your soul now."

The human’s mind closed like a steel trap, his resolve hardening like diamond, and reached for his axe. Caacrinolas roared and charged.

Oh the glory of battle in the name of Evil.

A worthy foe and the intoxicating smell of human blood, flesh rent and his glorious pain.

The bite of the axe was cold and deep and the ice of hell which flowed through his veins burned in the air rolling like smoke from the gash. His fury was terrible to behold, he screamed, a sound which shattered a nearby tree into splinters. He rose up a monstrosity, shadow and flame and streaked away seeking the deep darkness of the forest.

In the impenetrable darkness of the heart of the forest the man stood his will near to breaking under the redoubled assault, both now exhausted from the ordeal. An example would be made of this man, to hell with him, the howling void sang a welcome to the mighty human.

He longed to sing back. It was over he would step willingly into the pit to suffer for eternity; maybe he was not so mighty after all...

The pain was terrible, no mortal can know the pain of demon kind.

Down Caacrinolas fell towards hell into the void from which he had originated, from which he had ripped his way so many thousands of years ago. He saw the entire world below him as he fell, mountains and trees and rivers, and from below looking up there were those who saw a streak of light in the night sky flaming and then gone. They shivered their screams louder than ever as the horror that haunted them grew ever blacker in their minds.

 

[Quisani]

"Lerquinas, it seem that Ariel the Pious has lost his claim to our... impoverished city." Meca, head of the Scholar's Guild noted. Lerquinas the Bold leaned back quietly into his chair for a moment.

"Well... that certainly is to be expected. While he was penchant to the power they bestowed, he was never one to be pious. The will of the gods is not fickle, but ever just so, much like those people who we have been given charge of. Not a bad fellow, just not the right actor for the part." He stood up, dress in flowing orange robes and mitre. "I assume Myra has led the charge against the drunk sheep of Gemora and against the man-god in the golden armor?" He reached out for his staff, which had many runes of various deities carve into it.

"How did you know about Myra, Lerquinas?" Meca asked in amazement. Lerquinas was one of the wisest scholars in the Wildman tribe, which indeed was the wisest tribe in Lerone, but surely he could not have known about this!

"I had a dream the other night, where I was talking to Lord Protector Gritchen. He told me of Myra, and a good many things besides." Lerquinas spoke this with calm assurance.

"Surely you are Lerquinas the Bold, for having the courage to talk to he who may be a god!" Meca was a shrewd fellow, but he was smart enough to know that it was better to know where his loyalties lay than to about the loyalties of other men.

Lerquinas shrugged. "No, it does not take boldness to talk to a god, for even a drunk man can curse at them. It takes boldness to listen to their words, which are not meant for mortal ears. But enough of this Meca! Life is but a stage, and this fool has errands to run! I will leave Myra to her wars, whatever end may be accomplished. Make sure the scholars see to it that our tribe does not fight again with the Hill folk." With that, Lerquinas was of to see Ednas, the Endless Witch.

As Lerquinas approached approached the witch's hall, he stopped. The air was breathless and still. Lerquinas licked his finger and held it in the air. After a moment, walked over to the azure walls and put his ear up against them, knocking, listening. He then nodded, satisfied, and proceeded to walk his way through the crystal labyrinth. After several minutes he emerged in the hall of the Undying Queen. He saw the queen and a young girl on the far end. He cleared his voice loudly on the off chance his was interrupting somethings. "AHEM! Greetings, my potentate, ever esteemed by her bourgeois in an dichotomous manner! Salutations esteemed colleague of my queen." He began with unperturbed manner. "It is I, Lerquinas the Bold, descendant of Pollix the Brave, descendent of Cephas the Wildman and bearer of his curse. This lord and high priest of the Lerone wishes to have an audience with her majesty, the Undying Queen, about the state of the kingdom." Lerquinas's sarcasm grew steadily through his little speech. He took a loud deep breath as if he were about to ramble on more inane platitudes. However he said nothing for a brief moment. after that moment, he spoke in in a more playful manner. "Is this a bad time?"

 

[Freemanuncg]

The old man shivered in his bed, screaming as he woke from a nightmare, cold sweat beaded on his body. He stared into the darkness of his room certain that from the shadows it would step again after so many years. It didn’t but he woke more and more often now the same horrifying night terrors rending his mind night after night.

He was there again in the small village with his son and friends, and then the demon came, and he would wander through the pools of blood and dismembered bodies shaking and ranting. There was no where he was safe from the horror, the people that had found him half dead starving and mad had nursed him back to health.

Not even moving within the protective walls of the great city Lerone could put his shattered mind at ease. He lived with his last remaining family in a home on the wall of the city, he slowly drifted back to sleep to once again be tortured by a terrible demon from his past.

----------------

The pain was gone; his shattered soul was re-forged by the mighty hand of the great one.

In the pit he danced with his brethren, a seething mass of darkness individual forms lost in the beautiful terror that was there the souls of men skewered, rent, tossed up and caught. They laughed at the suffering and misery of mankind, their laughter shook the very bowels of the earth. Time is a concept of the mortal plane there in hell he spent eons and no time at all.

And the great evil one said to him “Well done my son, for you have reaped many souls which suffer eternally at my hand. Because you have served and because you have reaped you shall be well rewarded”

He knelt before the massive black throne as the master of all that is evil touched him on the shoulder and bid him rise.

------------------

Simple traders, men who traveled the earth buying and selling goods, the sun sank low as the group of men and horses moved along the edge of the great dark forest. The forward scout returned telling a strange tale, their leader called a halt for the night and the men began to set up camp next to the strange circle the scout had discovered.

The soil was utterly black and nothing grew in the circle, stones were piled in the middle as if over a grave but none among them had the courage or desire to cross the threshold of the circle.

When the sun rose over the clearing the merchants began to rise.

The blood of the horses was pooled beneath and splattered all over the stones of the cairn. Horror sent the men fleeing; ragged poor men would reach the city now, the soles of their feet torn and bloody from their headlong flight from the site of the terrible grave.

 

[Seon]

"If it was a bad time," the Queen spoke calmly. "You would not be here, addressing me like this."

"What is it that you wish to ask me of?"

 

[Quisani]

"Ah, very good! I'm here to inquire about your intentions for the future of Lerone, if there are any? Should we expect any demons or ghouls to... watch over this little city you call home? Are you going to blast away the barley folk or the riddle man? Or would you prefer to let us mere mortals handle the details of your kingdom?" Lerquinas chose a less tactful route of speech. "My apologies for the lack of respect, but the arrogance on my part, forced as it is, should be seen as a change in monotony in your daily affairs. I would hope that you have grown bored of beggars and gluttons, such as is the standard of your kingdom these days. I have other I must speak to today, so if you would like to save me the trouble, you may kill me for my impertinence now."

 

[Seon]

"You may kill me for my impertinence now."

"Is that your wish?"

 

[Quisani]

"I don't believe so, no. The gods have not been entertained by myself sufficiently to merit my death. And I am not here for your wishes. So should I take it that your plans will remain above the comprehension of fool such as myself? If so, this mortal will be on his way."

 

[Freemanuncg]

On the plane of hell he waited watching.

On the fields of torment he stood while the wails of the suffering washed over him like waves. His brethren stood around him, chanting channeling their unholy power into him, the flames of darkness leapt up roaring around their coven. He gathered the strength of the evil ones into him, crouching, compressing his mighty form his wings poised.

There came the sign.

He rose like a lightning bolt, gone from their midst, leaving a crater where the force of his sudden flight had shattered the very stones of hell. The minions and monsters of hell roared with delight and the great evil one himself smiled with pride at this, his most unholy son.

Right out of the unholy plane of hell he ripped, such was the power with which he flew. The darkness was rent open and the howling embraced him.

Into the void.

 

[Anonymoose]

I'll try to write another story that's more concerned with the worldly happenings Over-the-Lake, but I don't know that it'll happen this week. Hoping to be more involved for this and all future updates.

 

[Freemanuncg]

mwhahaha being banished to hell is the first time i've really know what to write about, now i kinda got an idea of what i wanna do in ze future as well!

watch out

 

[Seon]

"I don't believe so, no. The gods have not been entertained by myself sufficiently to merit my death. And I am not here for your wishes. So should I take it that your plans will remain above the comprehension of fool such as myself? If so, this mortal will be on his way."

OOC: Do you think you will get away so easily after speaking that way to the Endless Witch?

Like, for instance, what better way to teach the girl of the way of a witch then a demonstration?

 

[LDiCesare]

Prillitas went out as he heard yet another shout.
In the street, he saw a young maiden crying in despair and pointing towards the sky. Above her, hovering between the streets and the clouds, a demon was showing her his genitals, laughing. Prillitas drew his bow, shot an arrow, and the demon fell to the ground, his laughter muted in an instant.
As it fell down, the winged beast changed shape, and as it landed loudly on the street, it appeared as it had been before some vile magic imbued it: A puppet of mud and wood, with cloth wings attached to it, the whole thing soaked in blood.
"Go back to your home, said Prillitas. Those things only appear because you believe in them enough, and that gives them power. They show you what you want to see but don't admit. Go back home and find yourself a man, the demons will stop taunting you."

The maiden stared at him for a moment, opened her mouth, maybe to thank him, maybe to curse him. Instead, she turned, and ran away in silence.
She wouldn't heed his words, of course.

Prillitas knew magic existed, but to him, the point of magic was to trick someone else into believing what you told him, or showed him. To Prillitas, demons didn't hold any power by themselves. They only had power because men and women feared them. He didn't. Demons never came by him when he was alone, and they always fled or died when he saw one.

When his brother had decided to defeat the beast all these years ago, Prillitas told him he didn't need the Witch's magic. He still believed that. He was certain the cords would have been enough to trap the beast, and the blood his brother's mare had brought back had only been useful to the Witch, so she could tame the beast for herself. Lerone would have survived without it.
Now, the witch had let demons into the city, demons that Grichten had kept at bay when he founded Lerone.
And people were starving now, because the foreigners had taken all the fields, and demons of disease appeared as the men of Lerone started to grow weak because it was easier to pity and curse demons instead of taking action against the men of the west.

Prillitas sighed as Meitas, his sister's grandson, came to see what was happening. The boy immediately saw the demon's corpse and dashed towards it. He lifted it and wrapped the wings around him.
"Look, gr'uncle! I can fly!"
"You don't have wings, boy."
"Yes I have, they are demon wings, they are powerful. Of course I can fly with them."
"That's just a sheet of cloth, Meitas."
"Bah, you won't believe me! Look uncle, follow me!"
The boy ran to the nearby square, and Prillitas followed him, grumbling. His eyesight was still unrivalled, but his back ached, and his legs were stiffening with age.
When he reached the square, he saw Meitas talking to the crowd:
"Look, here comes my great uncle Prillitas the Far-Shooting, the man whose arrows killed more demons than the magics and axes of all the inhabitants of Lerone together!"
Prillitas grumbled again. It might be true, but the boy had that annoying habit of turning him into some kind of hero, of telling things bigger than they were.
"He slew the monster that was going to abduct young Priscilli, and now I wear the beasts' wings. Look at me!"
The boy stretched, and the clothes between his arms flapped red. They looked like wings, but remotely so. Still, everybody on the square looked at him. Meitas had that annoying gift too. Drawing attention, captivating people with something in his voice, in his tone, that Prillitas had always lacked and somehow felt jealous of.
"Oh, no! said the boy. A demon is hurtling towards us!"
As Meitas pointed to the sky, all the faces turned and followed his finger, seeing a winged monster flying towards them.
"Great uncle, please, help us! Kill the foul monster! Only you can save us."
Prillitas cursed loudly, drew, and shot: He couldn't let a demon kill his preferred great nephew, however annoying he might be at times.

The arrow rose, flew, and shot the devil which crashed on a crumbling tower.
"Prillitas saved us! His arrows are magic! They can defeat the demons and tame their powers! Look! The wings I took from his previous victim: Thanks hos magic, I can now use them myself!"

Prillitas thought: He's stupid. He's going to fall. That's just cloth. You can't fly with cloth wings.
But the wings looked real. They looked like demon wings now, and the young boy actually rose into the air. "I can't believe it", muttered Prillitas. But obviously, the others believed it, and that was what it took for the magic to work. Meitas rose, and flew to the tower. There, he retrieved the arrow from the second demon's corpse, and brought it back to Prillitas, acclaimed by the crowd.

Spoiler :

"Now, gr'uncle, said the boy, still flapping his wings, I'm gonna see the two-headed Barley guy. I'm sure I can talk each head into fighting the other, and I'll make the Gemorans fight between themselves. I'll turn them against each other, and they will be so busy mistrusting each other they won't be able to prevent us from taking our lands and fields back."

 

[Freemanuncg]

The old man woke in the darkness, the ancient dreams haunting him as always, he could feel the terror that threatened to consume his mind. He saw movement in the shadows.

Nonsense, it was not here now, it couldn’t be.

Something was different this time though, the shadows of the room were empty, but suddenly he felt a wrenching pain in his gut. He felt as if he had been stabbed, gutted, he began to scream. It was as if all his worst fears and darkest dreams were coming to life he could feel the claws of the beast rending his flesh. On and on he screamed like a lunatic flailing tearing at his flesh.

Light came into the room as the door flew open, Lulu burst in with a lantern.

“WHATS WRONG WITH YOU?” she shouted over the old man’s screams, they were used to his nightmares and the occasional late night shout, but now he was screaming as if he were being murdered. From what she could see there was nothing wrong with him, as he noticed her entrance to the room his screams died away. “Are you ok?” She asked him again.

“I-i-I s-saw it, IT WAS HERE!” he stuttered looking nearer to madness every moment. His hands shook and he continued to jabber incoherently, staring into the corners where the shadows still held sway.

“You are fine, just go back to sleep,” by now the rest of the house had come to see what the commotion was and they tried to talk the gibbering man down, to calm him enough to get him back into bed.

---------

The time was at hand, a spark of darkness lived in the soul of all who suffer at the hands of Caacrinolas, they hold within them an everlasting terror that can never be extinguished.

It was this shining facet of haunting darkness, a tiny piece of his eternal demonic soul, which would be his door back into the world of men.

Like a brilliant beacon it lead him through the darkness, the howling void was all around him, but his way was clear illuminated for by the suffering of mankind. The void separated the mortal plane from the plane of hell, across this void Caacrinolas flew his terrible wings spread wide.

Many souls would tumble in terror across the void by his hands soon. The soul he sought was before him, he was almost upon it.

----------

The old man began to shake and suddenly he went rigid. His head flew back staring up at the ceiling bloody tears began to stream from eyes which had turned completely red. The man’s own screams had stopped but now they were replaced by the screams of his family scrambling to his side. This was not a poor old man’s raving fantasy, this was horror come to life.

Pain beyond pain; the old man felt as if his entrails had been ripped from him his chest was pounding, suddenly it happened. An outward thrust from his chest cavity, he screamed again, it was his last. His chest was bloody and broken the ribs cracked outwards, sundered by some terrible force from within. He couldn’t draw a breath it was pure agony even to try and draw in air all thought was obliterated by the sheer pain and terror, the unrivaled darkness; he was frozen for a moment in time standing there in horror as he felt the evil well up inside him. He was falling.

His eyes melted, his face fixed, a picture of perfect agony and suddenly an explosion rocked the room, it could be heard for miles. There was gore everywhere, the man’s chest exploded; his torn flesh was shredded splattered on the walls and the onlookers. Splinters of bone embedded in their skin and in the walls, the destroyed entrails of the man writhing on the floor like a mass of snakes.

The lamp was extinguished, the glass broken by the explosion, and gore covering the remains. The darkness surrounded the survivors impenetrable and terrible, the might of the monster before them quickly shattering their feeble weakened minds.

Through the very flesh of the old man Caacrinolas had burrowed, his broken mind and infected soul had drawn the demon to him like a magnet across the incalculable void. In the deep blackness he rose to his full height savoring the madness of those who had witnessed his resurrection. He stretched out his arms grasping the first of the onlookers and crushing his skull with his fist, he placed his giant hand atop the head of another snapping the neck like a twig with a twist. The others also died screaming, raving, utterly lost to mankind in the pit they would suffer eternally.

A maniacal laugh burst from the demon as he settled upon the city like a storm cloud the ancient protections of the city were broken, and when the night ended many woke from dreams of unspeakable horror of which they would speak to no man.

 

[Seon]

That is great.

How do you wish for this thing to be resolved, Freeman?

 

[Freemanuncg]

Honestly a sentance the next morning reaction is about as far as i have written, I was just gonna see what happened lol.

It seemed as if the magic protecting the city was already weakened and having him rip his way back onto that plane of existance in that fashion either further weakened them or allowed him to subvert it.

In light of this I was intending to have him chill out a little bit and maybe do a bit from the constant mass murder so that he could more effectivly hide in the city unbeknownst to Ednas (or anyone except children who see him scratching at their windows and hiding in there closets). The misery of the city, as it stands is enough to sustain him.

So to avoid constantly murdering people in the city (actions that Ednas and the other leaders would be foreced to respond to) i was gonna have him start to be sneaky and do some 'deal with the devil' type stuff, possibly some black magic, tempting people, and even granting a few wishes (the sort of thing that goes horribly painfully awry). Just cause mischief and mayhem in other ways

 

[Anonymoose]

Yeah, he doesn't want to hang out in the country-side any more. He got the business when he messed with Frast:

Large image, BEWARE!

Spoiler :

 

[Seon]

Honestly a sentance the next morning reaction is about as far as i have written, I was just gonna see what happened lol.

It seemed as if the magic protecting the city was already weakened and having him rip his way back onto that plane of existance in that fashion either further weakened them or allowed him to subvert it.

In light of this I was intending to have him chill out a little bit and maybe do a bit from the constant mass murder so that he could more effectivly hide in the city unbeknownst to Ednas (or anyone except children who see him scratching at their windows and hiding in there closets). The misery of the city, as it stands is enough to sustain him.

So to avoid constantly murdering people in the city (actions that Ednas and the other leaders would be foreced to respond to) i was gonna have him start to be sneaky and do some 'deal with the devil' type stuff, possibly some black magic, tempting people, and even granting a few wishes (the sort of thing that goes horribly painfully awry). Just cause mischief and mayhem in other ways

And the only problem in that thing is that... Endas is actually a demon too, and she can tell if something like that's happening because she's a freaking demon .

And she's going to be angry. Prepare to be captured, tortured, manhandled by the Beast, spliced apart by the Child, have your mind torn apart, and then be forced to attend tea parties whilst wearing a pink ribbon and be called "Mr. Giggles."

Kudos if you get the reference.

 

[Freemanuncg]

Yea but is she the right hand of the great evil one himself?

Q: did she start out as a demon or become one over time? (just curious)

she can tell if something like that's happening because she's a freaking demon

all sorts of demonic activity is goin on in the city and he is quite adept at cloaking himself

furthermore while he was caught unawares by frast his corpreal form is not generally vulenrable to such attacks unless he is trying to suck a particularly powerful creature into hell.


however while i do have epeen for miles, i am of the opinion that Ednas and Caacrinolas could make an unstoppable unholy duo if they combined their formidable powers. She Did free him there had to be some reason she did that.

the question is what can they do for each other?