Post by mcian on Feb 17, 2024 11:06:29 GMT -5
It was past sundown. Already the shades of night had descended upon the bleak, barren, patch of jungle-encircled ground outside of Papua where a stone abattoir lay looking up at the stars. Upon it stood a solitary figure, hooded with arms extended toward the sky. The smoldering, burnt, body of an unknown sacrifice lay lifeless in a heap at his feet.
Anthraxas, who went by simply, "Thraxas," had just completed the sixty-fourth human sacrifice to his nihilist god, Oggaroth. He needed only thirty-six more to achieve his objective, one that would usher in the god's avatar, allowing him to enter this plane and wreak all the havoc, murder, and mayhem that his bloodthirst could achieve.
He had cooperated with the Armageddon cultists by supplying them with a ton or more of Black Rock, that they may achieve their goals. Since both aims coincided, they made a perfect merger. Now they had what they wanted, and, in return, helped him with certain "favors."
It had taken time and effort to capture victims for sacrifice. He had to move slowly. At first he had taken citizens of Papua, the riff-raff or poor souls abandoned and discarded by the community, which were not many as the town all shared close ties. Having depleted that source, he began taking citizens from Delucia, or rather, his "friends" did. It was a perfect arrangement. He did not have to hire anyone and thus left no trail leading back to him.
As he lowered his arms he noticed movement from the jungle. First facing him, then to his left and right and as he turned about, from behind, each at the point of an invisible pentagram, five, dark robed figures walked toward him at an even pace until they stood within twenty paces. Not liking this, he began the incantation of a Spell of Recall... but never completed it. A single small bolt struck him in the chest and in moments, he dropped to one knee, struggling to keep from passing out... not in pain, but from poison.
"You do well, Lord Thraxas, old friend. Most humans collapse and lose consciousness in seconds. You resist it well. Impressive," came a voice, quite known to the wounded man.
"My poison skills aid me, Damian... but this is indeed a potent variety," he replied. "What are you doing here?" He hoped to bide for time that he might try again to escape.
The five figures were all drow: Damian, Kelvearn, Dharzhal, Jexmir, and Magnus. Three were vampires, but all were formidable. They could have killed him easily. He wondered why they did not.
"What, you mean trapped in a coffin below the waterfall east of Yew, near the Shrine of Justice? I have not been there for a year or more. I have been watching you and biding time to see what it is you are doing here in this forsaken jungle land. We have decided to end your little operation. You are in league with those who are seeking to deplete our means to live and operate. While we cannot stop them... yet, we can stop you."
Thraxas stood up. "I don't know what you mean."
Damian laughed. "Of course you don't. And you don't care as long as you get what you want. We know what is at stake and you have assisted in bringing about the annihilation of magic... unwittingly."
"That's impossible! I am a mage and necromancer also. Why would I want that?"
"I said, unwittingly. But no matter. Enough of the chatter. We come to give you two choices. We decided not to kill you outright but allow you this small... mercy. Yet it will be the last time you receive it."
Thraxas nodded. "I suppose then I should be grateful."
Damian stepped forward, his eyes narrowing menacingly. "For what you did to me and meant to do, you had best get down on your knees and thank that pig-god of yours! It took the four of them to talk me out of flaying you alive after draining every drop of that demon blood in you!"
Thraxas nodded. It was the first time in ages he felt real terror.
His face and voice reverting to cold calm, Damian continued. "You may die here and now and quickly. You may depart this realm as you entered it, through a banishing spell that we know. Those are it. Leave here and now, or perish utterly. Decide quickly, before I change my mind."
The injured hellian looked from face to face observing them each in turn, his eyes piercing the darkness between. Kelvearn was Damian's right hand whom he barely tolerated at the Crystal Palace where he resided; Jexmir, oddly, was in league with his former nemesis, Damian, and his dark face wore the usual smirk. Magnus, the Blackguard, a thrall of Damian's, scowled. Dharzhal, the alchemist-scholar, showed no emotion whatsoever. "You are in on this too?" he asked him.
Dharzhal nodded. "When I learned what you were doing, you gave me no choice. I renounce any friendship and association with you. Expect no mercy from me."
Turning back to Damian, Thraxas inquired, "Where is your consort, Vira'ni? I thought she would like to be in on this."
Damian smiled. "She would have, but sadly knew her impulses might get the better of her and... well... I do tend to indulge them - her being so irresistible. You likely would have been offered no choice and no escape." His face contorted. "Choose now!"
"You realize this may only be temporary. One day I will be able to return?"
"Do so and die. We are not alone. I have enlisted a virtual army of drow and my own agents. They will kill you on sight."
"I curse all of you in the name of my god, ye cursed drow! Hypocrites!"
The five of them began an incantation, harnessing and focusing their collective energies on their target. Thraxas' body glowed, pulsing through the various colors of the light spectrum. Moments later, there was a thunderclap and he was gone.
"I will tell my son that Papua is free of its vile overlord," Damian commented. "He will like to know that he is gone."
“So shall everyone else who ever knew that demon,” Dharzhal commented.
The five cast their spells of Recall and each departed to their own domains.
Anthraxas, who went by simply, "Thraxas," had just completed the sixty-fourth human sacrifice to his nihilist god, Oggaroth. He needed only thirty-six more to achieve his objective, one that would usher in the god's avatar, allowing him to enter this plane and wreak all the havoc, murder, and mayhem that his bloodthirst could achieve.
He had cooperated with the Armageddon cultists by supplying them with a ton or more of Black Rock, that they may achieve their goals. Since both aims coincided, they made a perfect merger. Now they had what they wanted, and, in return, helped him with certain "favors."
It had taken time and effort to capture victims for sacrifice. He had to move slowly. At first he had taken citizens of Papua, the riff-raff or poor souls abandoned and discarded by the community, which were not many as the town all shared close ties. Having depleted that source, he began taking citizens from Delucia, or rather, his "friends" did. It was a perfect arrangement. He did not have to hire anyone and thus left no trail leading back to him.
As he lowered his arms he noticed movement from the jungle. First facing him, then to his left and right and as he turned about, from behind, each at the point of an invisible pentagram, five, dark robed figures walked toward him at an even pace until they stood within twenty paces. Not liking this, he began the incantation of a Spell of Recall... but never completed it. A single small bolt struck him in the chest and in moments, he dropped to one knee, struggling to keep from passing out... not in pain, but from poison.
"You do well, Lord Thraxas, old friend. Most humans collapse and lose consciousness in seconds. You resist it well. Impressive," came a voice, quite known to the wounded man.
"My poison skills aid me, Damian... but this is indeed a potent variety," he replied. "What are you doing here?" He hoped to bide for time that he might try again to escape.
The five figures were all drow: Damian, Kelvearn, Dharzhal, Jexmir, and Magnus. Three were vampires, but all were formidable. They could have killed him easily. He wondered why they did not.
"What, you mean trapped in a coffin below the waterfall east of Yew, near the Shrine of Justice? I have not been there for a year or more. I have been watching you and biding time to see what it is you are doing here in this forsaken jungle land. We have decided to end your little operation. You are in league with those who are seeking to deplete our means to live and operate. While we cannot stop them... yet, we can stop you."
Thraxas stood up. "I don't know what you mean."
Damian laughed. "Of course you don't. And you don't care as long as you get what you want. We know what is at stake and you have assisted in bringing about the annihilation of magic... unwittingly."
"That's impossible! I am a mage and necromancer also. Why would I want that?"
"I said, unwittingly. But no matter. Enough of the chatter. We come to give you two choices. We decided not to kill you outright but allow you this small... mercy. Yet it will be the last time you receive it."
Thraxas nodded. "I suppose then I should be grateful."
Damian stepped forward, his eyes narrowing menacingly. "For what you did to me and meant to do, you had best get down on your knees and thank that pig-god of yours! It took the four of them to talk me out of flaying you alive after draining every drop of that demon blood in you!"
Thraxas nodded. It was the first time in ages he felt real terror.
His face and voice reverting to cold calm, Damian continued. "You may die here and now and quickly. You may depart this realm as you entered it, through a banishing spell that we know. Those are it. Leave here and now, or perish utterly. Decide quickly, before I change my mind."
The injured hellian looked from face to face observing them each in turn, his eyes piercing the darkness between. Kelvearn was Damian's right hand whom he barely tolerated at the Crystal Palace where he resided; Jexmir, oddly, was in league with his former nemesis, Damian, and his dark face wore the usual smirk. Magnus, the Blackguard, a thrall of Damian's, scowled. Dharzhal, the alchemist-scholar, showed no emotion whatsoever. "You are in on this too?" he asked him.
Dharzhal nodded. "When I learned what you were doing, you gave me no choice. I renounce any friendship and association with you. Expect no mercy from me."
Turning back to Damian, Thraxas inquired, "Where is your consort, Vira'ni? I thought she would like to be in on this."
Damian smiled. "She would have, but sadly knew her impulses might get the better of her and... well... I do tend to indulge them - her being so irresistible. You likely would have been offered no choice and no escape." His face contorted. "Choose now!"
"You realize this may only be temporary. One day I will be able to return?"
"Do so and die. We are not alone. I have enlisted a virtual army of drow and my own agents. They will kill you on sight."
"I curse all of you in the name of my god, ye cursed drow! Hypocrites!"
The five of them began an incantation, harnessing and focusing their collective energies on their target. Thraxas' body glowed, pulsing through the various colors of the light spectrum. Moments later, there was a thunderclap and he was gone.
"I will tell my son that Papua is free of its vile overlord," Damian commented. "He will like to know that he is gone."
“So shall everyone else who ever knew that demon,” Dharzhal commented.
The five cast their spells of Recall and each departed to their own domains.