Metamorphosis: From Dretch to Demon Lord - Ascension Released!
- Thread starter BLACKDIRGE
- Start date
BLACKDIRGE
Adventurer
SpuneDagr said:I figured I'd give you a couple days after that... When's the next update, Blackdirge?
LOL
Well SpuneDagr let me just say that your eagerness is very flattering. Thank you for the support and praise.
As for the next installment, well...
I am finding that this tale, unlike my other NPC profiles, is much more detailed and requires a bit more thought. I don't want to rush the process and post something unworthy of the characters or the story. So there might be more of a gap between installments than some of my regular readers are used to.
So please be patient with me and I promise to give you my best.
Also, if you ar interested, check out my other threads in the rogue's gallery, I tend to update them pretty frequently.
As always thanks for reading.
Dirge
Slaadmaster
First Post
UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE!
(P.S UPDATE!)
Slaadmaster
(P.S UPDATE!)
Slaadmaster
Hackenslash
First Post
Very Good....
Part 3 was good, I think I will be buying the Fiend Folio and MM2 very soon. Cheers !!!
Part 3 was good, I think I will be buying the Fiend Folio and MM2 very soon. Cheers !!!
BLACKDIRGE
Adventurer
Here is another update and just over a week has passed since the last. Man, I gotta slow down.
**************************************
Dretch Part I
Hazergal watched through the slow eyes of the doomed as Hedrenatherax released his grip and the irresistible force of gravity drew him down towards a churning cauldron of acidic foulness. Unable to scream or even wave his arms in impotent panic the arch-mage plummeted the fifty or so feet to the surface of the spawning pit, piercing its slimy semi-translucent skin and disappearing beneath the bubbling morass of green filth.
From above, perched gargoyle-like on the rock causeway, Hedrenatherax stared down at where Hazergal had submerged. The balor wore a cold grin of malice-touched curiosity as he waited for the petitioner to resurface. Behind Hedrenatherax Gemnez had cautiously moved out onto the causeway to join the balor. The devil maneuvered his huge bulk with surprising nimbleness, gingerly sliding out to the edge of the causeway.
“You do know this can take a while?” Gemnez said as he looked out over the pit to where Hazergal had disappeared.
“Yes I know that, you bloated fool!” Hedrenatherax snapped at his rotund companion. “I want to make sure he stays in there. The pit nullifies the effects of the collar and I have no desire to experience another spell barrage from the little blighter.”
“Very well, I can place a guard until he emerges, if you wish.” Gemnez offered with a toothy grin. “I would not want to keep you from serving your master. Pyrak no doubt has use of such a capable lieutenant.”
“Hah!” Hedrenatherax snorted. “Save your flattery, toad. I am not leaving until that little bastard comes out of the pit. That is what Pyrak wishes me to do.”
“Very well, wait as long as you like, demon. I shall return to my keep, I find the vapors from the pit unpleasant.” The huge devil put one clawed hand to his forehead in a bizarre feminine gesture, as if he were some dainty noble woman coming down with a headache. He then turned and moved carefully away from the lip of the causeway and headed back towards his keep, his heavy thudding footfalls fading quickly under the thick churning noise of the spawning pool. Hedrenatherax said nothing as the devil departed, continuing his vigil over the pit.
Below the surface of the spawning pit Hazergal was experiencing pain beyond that of mortal comprehension. Every fiber of his being seemed to be on fire and as he opened his mouth to scream the vile fluid of the pit flowed into his mouth and burned a choking path of agony to the very core of his soul. The collar that had made him helpless had fallen away, actually had been eaten away, by the horrid vitriol of spawning pit. But even freed of the collar’s binding Hazergal could do little but writhe and convulse as he sank to the bottom.
Blind, deaf and wracked by powerful magic, Hazergal felt his mind slipping away into the chaotic maelstrom of pain and sensory depravation. His memories and personality were being hungrily devoured by whatever foul process the spawning pool was enacting upon his petitioner body, seeking to replace his mind with the chaotic malice of a demon. Rage surged within Hazergal as he fought the theft of his being, he clung to each and every slight and defeat ever dealt to him in his long, long life. From his apprenticeship under the cruel mage in Waterdeep to his final betrayal at the hands of Nithrekel, Hazergal pushed each disappointment and failure to the front of his mind creating an impenetrable barrier of emotional outrage that kept the spawning pool’s hungry emptiness at bay.
Hazergal's rage was very effective in preserving his mind but had no effect on the changes being wrought upon his body. Bones cracked; flesh melted and was stripped away as the abyss remade Hazergal into something more suitable to its hellish environs. The agony seemed eternal as his body was wrenched and twisted and Hazergal could do nothing but writhe helplessly on the bottom of the spawning pool clinging feebly to his anchor of rage.
The pain never receded as the alkaline fluid of Gemnez Drak continued to eat at his skin, but eventually Hazergal felt strength and stability returning to his body and although still blind he pushed off the bottom of the pool towards the surface. Spells flooded into his mind as he neared the dim light that marked the surface of the spawning pool and although the pain was immeasurable Hazergal gritted his teeth and called upon the near limitless depths of concentration he had learned as a mortal mage.
As Hazergal’s head broke the surface of the spawning pool he pulled in a great lung full of stale abyssal air and let loose the triggering words of power for a flight spell. Hazergal felt his body buoyed by magical ether and shot from the pool to hover fifty feet from the surface, directly parallel to the stone causeway on which stood a stunned Hedrenatherax. And now for the first time the former archmage saw the full extent of the changes that had been wrought upon his body. The long clean lines of his human form had been compacted into a short, saggy-fleshed monstrosity that Hazergal could scarcely believe was his own body. Long spindly limbs hung down to the spade clawed feet of his new form, and his hands, his wonderful dexterous hands, were now little more than twisted talons good for nothing but the crudest of manipulations. Horror dawned cold and raw as Hazergal realized what he had become; there was no doubt as he hung there suspended over the vile pit of Gemnez Drak. Hazergal, mightiest wizard of Vassa was a dretch.
Hazergal had little time to lament his new situation for Hedrenatherax had recovered from his stupor and had drawn his massive jagged edged sword. The massive balor then spread his wings and vaulted into the air his body suddenly wreathed in flickering greenish fire. Hazergal knew that he had no chance against the demon on the wing and withdrew over the center of the pit while he desperately searched his mind for a spell that would at least halt the demon.
Hedrenatherax barreled towards Hazergal, huge sword gleaming like a flaming beacon of destruction, his bestial features curled in a fanged sneer. The balor had no fear, he had hoped that Hazergal would emerge from the pit with a semblance of his former self; he wanted to extinguish that final spark of life himself. The balor worried little about what spell the pathetic hovering dretch might throw at him, he was naturally resistant to such attacks and doubted he could be seriously harmed in such a way. His surprise was near total when the newly formed dretch splayed out both spindly taloned hands in front of its flabby sack-like body and uttered the words to a spell which the balor thought would create a cone of freezing mist, and effect he was completely immune to. Instead a shuddering cone of sonic disruption burst from the dretch’s out stretched talons and struck the charging Hedrenatherax flush.
To the babau demons watching from the ground it seemed that Hedrenatherax had simply run into an invisible wall… with teeth. The balor’s was stopped cold in mid flight his huge bat wings flaring out against the terrible strain of the disruption cone, but they could not hold and the delicate stretched membrane of each wing was shredded into useless tatters. Despite the damage to his relatively vulnerable wings Hedrenatherax was largely uninjured by the spell, but he was now unable to keep himself aloft and plummeted like a flaming green meteor towards the pit of Gemnez Drak. The Balor loosed one mighty howl of rage before he hit the surface of the spawning pool and disappeared beneath a massive geyser of hissing green fluid.
Hazergal had no illusions that a dip in the spawning pit would do any lasting harm to the mighty demon and sped off towards the direction of the keep and the looming chain of black mountains beyond. Hedrenatherax was defeated for the moment but Hazergal found he was not completely out of harms way. The archmage turned dretch was almost impaled by a silvery lance hurled by one of the babau pit tenders on the ground. Hazergal narrowly avoided the missile and suddenly felt the acrid burn of rage building within him once again. Outraged by his recent helplessness, Hazergal loosed his ire upon the dozen or so clustered babau on the ground below.
Hazergal summoned a rapid succession of spells as he streaked down towards the offending demons. He layered his body in a protective mesh of arcane energy that repelled the hurled spears of the babau easily. When he had come within thirty feet of the babau Hazergal unleashed the full extent of his destructive repertoire upon the now panicked fiends. The spells flowed into his mind with an ease he could scarcely believe. He needed no spell book; he plucked each spell like a well-ripened fruit from the near endless groves of his mind. The babau disappeared in a maelstrom of magical fire and acid, they had no chance as the few feeble spells of their own reflected harmlessly off the sturdy array of magical defense Hazergal had erected. The battle took only seconds and when it was over a most absurd sight awaited any one familiar with the abyss and its denizens. A dretch, a lowly dretch, hovered triumphantly over the shattered bodies of fifteen babau.
Hazergal wasted no time in celebrating his victory, and sped off over the keep and towards the mountains. The former arch-mage had no idea how long the seemingly limitless array of arcana would remain his to access and wished to be as far away from the pit of Gemnez Drak before he ran out of spells.
As Hazergal fled, he looked back and was relieved to see that there was no pursuit. He descended a bit, lowing his altitude so that the various peaks and valleys of the mighty black mountain range would hide him from aerial pursuers. Safe for the moment Hazergal took some time to examine his new form, he was less than pleased.
His hairless skin was now a sickly greenish gray, reminiscent of rotting meat, and emitted an oily stench of decay that was truly revolting. Much shorter than his human body, his new frame barely topped four feet in height and consisted of a bulbous sack like body of doughy flesh. His arms were long and triple jointed but as thin as stovepipes and altogether ungainly in appearance. Short stubby legs dangled beneath Hazergal as he flew, and he had serious doubts that they could carry him faster than a brisk walk. Hazergal thanked the gods he did not have a mirror, for his terrible suspicions regarding his face and head were undoubtedly far worse than he could imagine.
Despite his less than perfect new body, Hazergal found that his mind was completely intact. In fact he had never felt so clear headed in his life. His thoughts were organized in such a way that he seemed to be of two minds. His more mundane thoughts and base bodily functions were contained in one area and seemed completely separated from a huge catalogue of spells that he found as easy to access as opening a well indexed book. It seemed that nearly every spell he had ever cast was there, from the fireballs and lightning bolts he had used so often to more obscure incantations he had utilized but once in his mortal life. Well, almost. The mightiest of spells, those he had learned late in his career were there, this he could sense, but were some how blocked and he was unable to access them.
Hazergal put his mind to work on puzzling out his bizarre situation. How was this possible? He wondered. Beyond his fierce will and thirst for vengeance, the arch-mage could not divine a reason for his singular existence. He held the might of a powerful spellcaster in the useless flabby body of a dretch; it was a cosmic joke of epic proportions. But he was alive and free and this at least was something. From what he knew of demon-kind he would likely have all eternity to ponder his odd existence.
Hazergal’s flight spell had run its course while he was lost in thought and he suddenly found himself drifting slowly to the ground. He was in a small canyon that featured a stream of blackish fluid, that Hazergal surmised could be anything but water. The canyon seemed deserted, but the dretch mage proceeded cautiously for the wilds of the abyss were teeming with all manner of foul beasts.
Hazergal followed the stream north, until it despaired under a wall of black stone, the mountainside that marked the northern end of the canyon. Panning his gaze up he saw that a dark aperture yawned open some thirty feet from above his head. The cave seemed large enough to allow his small frame, and would certainly be safer than staying out in the open.
Hazergal once again called upon his magic and cast a simple spell that allowed him to scale the side of the mountain like an insect. He reached the cave entrance quickly and ducked inside without hesitation. The darkness of the cavern was of no consequence for Hazergal found that his demon eyes pierced the gloom as easily as a well-stoked lantern.
The cave was shallow, ending a mere twenty feet from its entrance, but it was empty. Hazergal heaved a great sigh of relief and collapsed in a heap against the back wall of his safe haven. His weariness was purely mental; he felt no hunger or fatigue in his demon body and surmised that he would need very little in the way of food or rest to survive.
Alive and in full command of his spells, Hazergal felt the first seeds of hope find purchase in his soul. Perhaps his transformation into a demon would play to his advantage; there was certainly power for the taking in the wild and endless depths of the abyss. He had built an empire before, starting with much less than he had now, he saw no reason why he could not do so again. Hazergal’s mind began to work, as it always had, examining and discarding various scenarios and plans, pounding out a path to power where none had existed before. And there in the dark, in a small cave surrounded by the limitless chaos of the abyss, the first flames of greatness sparked and flared to life.
***
The great devil, Gemnez stomped up to the lip of his spawning pool and glared at the bubbling green surface of the pit. Behind him a troop of the black, skeletal demons known as babau stood holding twelve-foot lances of silvery metal.
Gemnez suddenly turned and barked an order at the group of lesser demons. “Find him!”
The babau wasted now time and hurried to the lip of the pit and fanned out so that one of their number was spaced evenly around the entire circumference of the pit. The demons began probing beneath the surface of the boiling green lake with their lances, looks of abject terror creasing their terrible features. They had no desire to find anything, especially something that could survive a dip in the spawning pit.
The babau searched for a scant few minutes before one of their number had the misfortune of finding what they were looking for.
Gemnez watched a few yards away as one of his babau servitors probed beneath the surface of the pit with his lance. Suddenly the tall black demon stopped what it was doing and motioned his master closer, it appeared that his lance had struck something solid. Before Gemnez could take a step, the surface of the lake around the babau’s lance erupted in a fountain of burning slime and a huge bat winged shape burst from the morass. The babau opened his fanged maw to shout for help, but was quickly silenced by the flashing stroke of Hedrenatherax’s jagged sword. The babau was cut neatly in half at the midsection, spewing its foul black blood in a wide fanning arc.
The great balor stepped from the spawning pit, a seething engine of rage and destruction. His immersion in the pool had not changed him, he was already at the pinnacle of demon-kind, instead the strong vitriolic fluid had burned him horribly, blackening his flesh and dissolving many of the iron hard scales that covered his body. Hedrenatherax’s wings were almost completely destroyed, the damage done to them by Hazergal’s spell compounded by the acrid effluvium of the spawning pit. They hung in shreds and tatters from his broad back, useless and broken.
Hedrenatherax was beyond reason, only rage existed for him now, and he turned his burning gaze on the remaining babau who now cowered behind the massive bulk of Gemnez. Hedrenatherax surged forward bellowing and took his great blade in both hands, he wanted revenge for the outrage and humiliation dealt him but Hazergal, and he had little concern who or what was the recipient of the vengeance.
Gemnez waited for the balor to close, a slight grin on his gaudy reptilian face. When the balor saw that Gemnez was blocking his way he turned his full ire upon the massive devil, raising his sword above his head to cleave Gemnez’s great bloated body. The babau fell back in terror as Hedrenatherax closed the distance between himself and their master.
As the huge balor drew within striking distance, Gemnez uncoiled with the speed of a striking serpent. Catching Hedrenatherax’s descending sword arm by the wrist with his left hand while his right shot out and clasped the balor firmly about the neck. With one mighty heave Gemnez lifted Hedrenatherax of the ground and then slammed him back down on his back, pinning the huge demon beneath his massive girth.
The speed and accuracy displayed by the huge devil caught everyone by surprise, especially Hedrenatherax, who now lay trapped at the mercy of the mighty fiend. The balor’s sword had been knocked loose by his impact with the ground and he found that his own strength was woefully insufficient to counter that of his foe. Helpless the balor ceased his struggling as the rage left him in the face of total defeat.
Gemnez pushed his face close to Hedrenatherax’s and whispered venomously in his ear. “Now listen to me, you great reeking pile of lemure dung.” Gemnez seethed “If you harm another of my servants I will send you back to Pyrak in the bellies of a hundred dretches”
Hedrenatherax stared up at the ludicrous painted face of Gemnez with complete shock and disbelief. How had such a ridiculous creature defeated him?
“If you will behave yourself I will release you” Gemnez continued. “Will you behave, demon?” The devil asked pointedly, his glaring orange eyes promising instant destruction.
“Yes, let me up toad!” Hedrenatherax managed to bark, blustering with false bravado.
Gemnez smiled hugely in Hedrenatherax’s face, and rose freeing the balor from beneath his body.
Hedrenatherax climbed to his feet and retrieved his sword, which he wisely hung at his side. “Now what, bloated one.” The balor asked.
“Now we take a walk, we have much to discuss you and I. Much to discuss about a faithless petitioner that can best a balor in single combat.” The barb was unmistakable and Hedrenatherax bristled, but held his anger in check.
“Come now, let us walk.” Gemnez offered amiably holding one huge flabby arm out allowing the balor to lead the way. The two powerful fiends strode off leaving the greatly relieved group of babau behind, their voices echoing softly over the churning cacophony of the spawning pit.
**************************************
Dretch Part I
Hazergal watched through the slow eyes of the doomed as Hedrenatherax released his grip and the irresistible force of gravity drew him down towards a churning cauldron of acidic foulness. Unable to scream or even wave his arms in impotent panic the arch-mage plummeted the fifty or so feet to the surface of the spawning pit, piercing its slimy semi-translucent skin and disappearing beneath the bubbling morass of green filth.
From above, perched gargoyle-like on the rock causeway, Hedrenatherax stared down at where Hazergal had submerged. The balor wore a cold grin of malice-touched curiosity as he waited for the petitioner to resurface. Behind Hedrenatherax Gemnez had cautiously moved out onto the causeway to join the balor. The devil maneuvered his huge bulk with surprising nimbleness, gingerly sliding out to the edge of the causeway.
“You do know this can take a while?” Gemnez said as he looked out over the pit to where Hazergal had disappeared.
“Yes I know that, you bloated fool!” Hedrenatherax snapped at his rotund companion. “I want to make sure he stays in there. The pit nullifies the effects of the collar and I have no desire to experience another spell barrage from the little blighter.”
“Very well, I can place a guard until he emerges, if you wish.” Gemnez offered with a toothy grin. “I would not want to keep you from serving your master. Pyrak no doubt has use of such a capable lieutenant.”
“Hah!” Hedrenatherax snorted. “Save your flattery, toad. I am not leaving until that little bastard comes out of the pit. That is what Pyrak wishes me to do.”
“Very well, wait as long as you like, demon. I shall return to my keep, I find the vapors from the pit unpleasant.” The huge devil put one clawed hand to his forehead in a bizarre feminine gesture, as if he were some dainty noble woman coming down with a headache. He then turned and moved carefully away from the lip of the causeway and headed back towards his keep, his heavy thudding footfalls fading quickly under the thick churning noise of the spawning pool. Hedrenatherax said nothing as the devil departed, continuing his vigil over the pit.
Below the surface of the spawning pit Hazergal was experiencing pain beyond that of mortal comprehension. Every fiber of his being seemed to be on fire and as he opened his mouth to scream the vile fluid of the pit flowed into his mouth and burned a choking path of agony to the very core of his soul. The collar that had made him helpless had fallen away, actually had been eaten away, by the horrid vitriol of spawning pit. But even freed of the collar’s binding Hazergal could do little but writhe and convulse as he sank to the bottom.
Blind, deaf and wracked by powerful magic, Hazergal felt his mind slipping away into the chaotic maelstrom of pain and sensory depravation. His memories and personality were being hungrily devoured by whatever foul process the spawning pool was enacting upon his petitioner body, seeking to replace his mind with the chaotic malice of a demon. Rage surged within Hazergal as he fought the theft of his being, he clung to each and every slight and defeat ever dealt to him in his long, long life. From his apprenticeship under the cruel mage in Waterdeep to his final betrayal at the hands of Nithrekel, Hazergal pushed each disappointment and failure to the front of his mind creating an impenetrable barrier of emotional outrage that kept the spawning pool’s hungry emptiness at bay.
Hazergal's rage was very effective in preserving his mind but had no effect on the changes being wrought upon his body. Bones cracked; flesh melted and was stripped away as the abyss remade Hazergal into something more suitable to its hellish environs. The agony seemed eternal as his body was wrenched and twisted and Hazergal could do nothing but writhe helplessly on the bottom of the spawning pool clinging feebly to his anchor of rage.
The pain never receded as the alkaline fluid of Gemnez Drak continued to eat at his skin, but eventually Hazergal felt strength and stability returning to his body and although still blind he pushed off the bottom of the pool towards the surface. Spells flooded into his mind as he neared the dim light that marked the surface of the spawning pool and although the pain was immeasurable Hazergal gritted his teeth and called upon the near limitless depths of concentration he had learned as a mortal mage.
As Hazergal’s head broke the surface of the spawning pool he pulled in a great lung full of stale abyssal air and let loose the triggering words of power for a flight spell. Hazergal felt his body buoyed by magical ether and shot from the pool to hover fifty feet from the surface, directly parallel to the stone causeway on which stood a stunned Hedrenatherax. And now for the first time the former archmage saw the full extent of the changes that had been wrought upon his body. The long clean lines of his human form had been compacted into a short, saggy-fleshed monstrosity that Hazergal could scarcely believe was his own body. Long spindly limbs hung down to the spade clawed feet of his new form, and his hands, his wonderful dexterous hands, were now little more than twisted talons good for nothing but the crudest of manipulations. Horror dawned cold and raw as Hazergal realized what he had become; there was no doubt as he hung there suspended over the vile pit of Gemnez Drak. Hazergal, mightiest wizard of Vassa was a dretch.
Hazergal had little time to lament his new situation for Hedrenatherax had recovered from his stupor and had drawn his massive jagged edged sword. The massive balor then spread his wings and vaulted into the air his body suddenly wreathed in flickering greenish fire. Hazergal knew that he had no chance against the demon on the wing and withdrew over the center of the pit while he desperately searched his mind for a spell that would at least halt the demon.
Hedrenatherax barreled towards Hazergal, huge sword gleaming like a flaming beacon of destruction, his bestial features curled in a fanged sneer. The balor had no fear, he had hoped that Hazergal would emerge from the pit with a semblance of his former self; he wanted to extinguish that final spark of life himself. The balor worried little about what spell the pathetic hovering dretch might throw at him, he was naturally resistant to such attacks and doubted he could be seriously harmed in such a way. His surprise was near total when the newly formed dretch splayed out both spindly taloned hands in front of its flabby sack-like body and uttered the words to a spell which the balor thought would create a cone of freezing mist, and effect he was completely immune to. Instead a shuddering cone of sonic disruption burst from the dretch’s out stretched talons and struck the charging Hedrenatherax flush.
To the babau demons watching from the ground it seemed that Hedrenatherax had simply run into an invisible wall… with teeth. The balor’s was stopped cold in mid flight his huge bat wings flaring out against the terrible strain of the disruption cone, but they could not hold and the delicate stretched membrane of each wing was shredded into useless tatters. Despite the damage to his relatively vulnerable wings Hedrenatherax was largely uninjured by the spell, but he was now unable to keep himself aloft and plummeted like a flaming green meteor towards the pit of Gemnez Drak. The Balor loosed one mighty howl of rage before he hit the surface of the spawning pool and disappeared beneath a massive geyser of hissing green fluid.
Hazergal had no illusions that a dip in the spawning pit would do any lasting harm to the mighty demon and sped off towards the direction of the keep and the looming chain of black mountains beyond. Hedrenatherax was defeated for the moment but Hazergal found he was not completely out of harms way. The archmage turned dretch was almost impaled by a silvery lance hurled by one of the babau pit tenders on the ground. Hazergal narrowly avoided the missile and suddenly felt the acrid burn of rage building within him once again. Outraged by his recent helplessness, Hazergal loosed his ire upon the dozen or so clustered babau on the ground below.
Hazergal summoned a rapid succession of spells as he streaked down towards the offending demons. He layered his body in a protective mesh of arcane energy that repelled the hurled spears of the babau easily. When he had come within thirty feet of the babau Hazergal unleashed the full extent of his destructive repertoire upon the now panicked fiends. The spells flowed into his mind with an ease he could scarcely believe. He needed no spell book; he plucked each spell like a well-ripened fruit from the near endless groves of his mind. The babau disappeared in a maelstrom of magical fire and acid, they had no chance as the few feeble spells of their own reflected harmlessly off the sturdy array of magical defense Hazergal had erected. The battle took only seconds and when it was over a most absurd sight awaited any one familiar with the abyss and its denizens. A dretch, a lowly dretch, hovered triumphantly over the shattered bodies of fifteen babau.
Hazergal wasted no time in celebrating his victory, and sped off over the keep and towards the mountains. The former arch-mage had no idea how long the seemingly limitless array of arcana would remain his to access and wished to be as far away from the pit of Gemnez Drak before he ran out of spells.
As Hazergal fled, he looked back and was relieved to see that there was no pursuit. He descended a bit, lowing his altitude so that the various peaks and valleys of the mighty black mountain range would hide him from aerial pursuers. Safe for the moment Hazergal took some time to examine his new form, he was less than pleased.
His hairless skin was now a sickly greenish gray, reminiscent of rotting meat, and emitted an oily stench of decay that was truly revolting. Much shorter than his human body, his new frame barely topped four feet in height and consisted of a bulbous sack like body of doughy flesh. His arms were long and triple jointed but as thin as stovepipes and altogether ungainly in appearance. Short stubby legs dangled beneath Hazergal as he flew, and he had serious doubts that they could carry him faster than a brisk walk. Hazergal thanked the gods he did not have a mirror, for his terrible suspicions regarding his face and head were undoubtedly far worse than he could imagine.
Despite his less than perfect new body, Hazergal found that his mind was completely intact. In fact he had never felt so clear headed in his life. His thoughts were organized in such a way that he seemed to be of two minds. His more mundane thoughts and base bodily functions were contained in one area and seemed completely separated from a huge catalogue of spells that he found as easy to access as opening a well indexed book. It seemed that nearly every spell he had ever cast was there, from the fireballs and lightning bolts he had used so often to more obscure incantations he had utilized but once in his mortal life. Well, almost. The mightiest of spells, those he had learned late in his career were there, this he could sense, but were some how blocked and he was unable to access them.
Hazergal put his mind to work on puzzling out his bizarre situation. How was this possible? He wondered. Beyond his fierce will and thirst for vengeance, the arch-mage could not divine a reason for his singular existence. He held the might of a powerful spellcaster in the useless flabby body of a dretch; it was a cosmic joke of epic proportions. But he was alive and free and this at least was something. From what he knew of demon-kind he would likely have all eternity to ponder his odd existence.
Hazergal’s flight spell had run its course while he was lost in thought and he suddenly found himself drifting slowly to the ground. He was in a small canyon that featured a stream of blackish fluid, that Hazergal surmised could be anything but water. The canyon seemed deserted, but the dretch mage proceeded cautiously for the wilds of the abyss were teeming with all manner of foul beasts.
Hazergal followed the stream north, until it despaired under a wall of black stone, the mountainside that marked the northern end of the canyon. Panning his gaze up he saw that a dark aperture yawned open some thirty feet from above his head. The cave seemed large enough to allow his small frame, and would certainly be safer than staying out in the open.
Hazergal once again called upon his magic and cast a simple spell that allowed him to scale the side of the mountain like an insect. He reached the cave entrance quickly and ducked inside without hesitation. The darkness of the cavern was of no consequence for Hazergal found that his demon eyes pierced the gloom as easily as a well-stoked lantern.
The cave was shallow, ending a mere twenty feet from its entrance, but it was empty. Hazergal heaved a great sigh of relief and collapsed in a heap against the back wall of his safe haven. His weariness was purely mental; he felt no hunger or fatigue in his demon body and surmised that he would need very little in the way of food or rest to survive.
Alive and in full command of his spells, Hazergal felt the first seeds of hope find purchase in his soul. Perhaps his transformation into a demon would play to his advantage; there was certainly power for the taking in the wild and endless depths of the abyss. He had built an empire before, starting with much less than he had now, he saw no reason why he could not do so again. Hazergal’s mind began to work, as it always had, examining and discarding various scenarios and plans, pounding out a path to power where none had existed before. And there in the dark, in a small cave surrounded by the limitless chaos of the abyss, the first flames of greatness sparked and flared to life.
***
The great devil, Gemnez stomped up to the lip of his spawning pool and glared at the bubbling green surface of the pit. Behind him a troop of the black, skeletal demons known as babau stood holding twelve-foot lances of silvery metal.
Gemnez suddenly turned and barked an order at the group of lesser demons. “Find him!”
The babau wasted now time and hurried to the lip of the pit and fanned out so that one of their number was spaced evenly around the entire circumference of the pit. The demons began probing beneath the surface of the boiling green lake with their lances, looks of abject terror creasing their terrible features. They had no desire to find anything, especially something that could survive a dip in the spawning pit.
The babau searched for a scant few minutes before one of their number had the misfortune of finding what they were looking for.
Gemnez watched a few yards away as one of his babau servitors probed beneath the surface of the pit with his lance. Suddenly the tall black demon stopped what it was doing and motioned his master closer, it appeared that his lance had struck something solid. Before Gemnez could take a step, the surface of the lake around the babau’s lance erupted in a fountain of burning slime and a huge bat winged shape burst from the morass. The babau opened his fanged maw to shout for help, but was quickly silenced by the flashing stroke of Hedrenatherax’s jagged sword. The babau was cut neatly in half at the midsection, spewing its foul black blood in a wide fanning arc.
The great balor stepped from the spawning pit, a seething engine of rage and destruction. His immersion in the pool had not changed him, he was already at the pinnacle of demon-kind, instead the strong vitriolic fluid had burned him horribly, blackening his flesh and dissolving many of the iron hard scales that covered his body. Hedrenatherax’s wings were almost completely destroyed, the damage done to them by Hazergal’s spell compounded by the acrid effluvium of the spawning pit. They hung in shreds and tatters from his broad back, useless and broken.
Hedrenatherax was beyond reason, only rage existed for him now, and he turned his burning gaze on the remaining babau who now cowered behind the massive bulk of Gemnez. Hedrenatherax surged forward bellowing and took his great blade in both hands, he wanted revenge for the outrage and humiliation dealt him but Hazergal, and he had little concern who or what was the recipient of the vengeance.
Gemnez waited for the balor to close, a slight grin on his gaudy reptilian face. When the balor saw that Gemnez was blocking his way he turned his full ire upon the massive devil, raising his sword above his head to cleave Gemnez’s great bloated body. The babau fell back in terror as Hedrenatherax closed the distance between himself and their master.
As the huge balor drew within striking distance, Gemnez uncoiled with the speed of a striking serpent. Catching Hedrenatherax’s descending sword arm by the wrist with his left hand while his right shot out and clasped the balor firmly about the neck. With one mighty heave Gemnez lifted Hedrenatherax of the ground and then slammed him back down on his back, pinning the huge demon beneath his massive girth.
The speed and accuracy displayed by the huge devil caught everyone by surprise, especially Hedrenatherax, who now lay trapped at the mercy of the mighty fiend. The balor’s sword had been knocked loose by his impact with the ground and he found that his own strength was woefully insufficient to counter that of his foe. Helpless the balor ceased his struggling as the rage left him in the face of total defeat.
Gemnez pushed his face close to Hedrenatherax’s and whispered venomously in his ear. “Now listen to me, you great reeking pile of lemure dung.” Gemnez seethed “If you harm another of my servants I will send you back to Pyrak in the bellies of a hundred dretches”
Hedrenatherax stared up at the ludicrous painted face of Gemnez with complete shock and disbelief. How had such a ridiculous creature defeated him?
“If you will behave yourself I will release you” Gemnez continued. “Will you behave, demon?” The devil asked pointedly, his glaring orange eyes promising instant destruction.
“Yes, let me up toad!” Hedrenatherax managed to bark, blustering with false bravado.
Gemnez smiled hugely in Hedrenatherax’s face, and rose freeing the balor from beneath his body.
Hedrenatherax climbed to his feet and retrieved his sword, which he wisely hung at his side. “Now what, bloated one.” The balor asked.
“Now we take a walk, we have much to discuss you and I. Much to discuss about a faithless petitioner that can best a balor in single combat.” The barb was unmistakable and Hedrenatherax bristled, but held his anger in check.
“Come now, let us walk.” Gemnez offered amiably holding one huge flabby arm out allowing the balor to lead the way. The two powerful fiends strode off leaving the greatly relieved group of babau behind, their voices echoing softly over the churning cacophony of the spawning pit.
Slaadmaster
First Post
BRILLIANT!
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