Metamorphosis: From Dretch to Demon Lord - Ascension Released!
- Thread starter BLACKDIRGE
- Start date
Derulbaskul
Adventurer
Bump. This is too good to simply just let it slide.... 
BLACKDIRGE
Adventurer
Howdy all,
Sorry for the lack of updates recently. I am in the middle of a long and protracted move up north and that combined with a recent case of the stomach flu has kept me away from the keyboard. Anyway I do have an update for you although its a bit shorter than the others. This installment brings us back to check up on Hazergal and see how he is coping with his new body.
Thanks for being patient. Also thanks to all of you who have faithfully bumped this thread to keep it on the front page, it is much appreciated.
Dirge
**********************************************************
Part VI - Hunger
Time moves oddly in the abyss, the passing of minutes and hours proceed at an apparently random and haphazard velocity. Blasphemous green suns rise and set, skies darken and become bloated with foul stinking rain. All of this happens with no forewarning or inclination just a series of all together unrelated events culminating in what makes up an abyssal day.
From his tiny cave, Hazergal the dretch watched the bizarre manifestation of abyssal weather with much fascination. He marveled at the complete and utter chaos of it all, no pattern or method could be applied to the place. It simply existed as a state of almost pure chaos. But unlike the plane of limbo, the true plane of ultimate chaos, the abyss tempered its strange manifestation with evil, black and pure. There was no beauty here, all was raving and pain, even the sky above, infested with writhing worm like clouds offered no solace or surcease from the constant hammering evil.
Hazergal had holed up in his cave for what seemed like days, rifling through his changing mind for something that would lend some sense of reason to the whole affair. He found nothing but his own, now alien thought processes and what seemed a limitless gulf of arcane knowledge. He had realized some time ago that he was no longer Hazergal. That being had ceased to be. The demon, whose flesh he now wore had added its bizarre psychology and physiology to that of the once human mage to create a new creature. He was neither wholly demon nor wholly human. The former arch-mage found that many of his memories, those from his former life, had been burned away by the terrifying ordeal he had suffered. The transformation to dretch had left his mind scoured clean of all but the rudimentary elements of self. He knew that he was Hazergal, once a human archmage in the prime material world of Faerun, but the minor details of his 75 plus years as a man were lost.
Hazergal sat and struggled in vain to recall his childhood, his parents, anything from his former existence beyond his name, his arcane ability, and those few crystal clear moments just before his death. His desire for vengeance remained strong however, although he was no longer certain why he wanted it. He remembered that Nithrekel had slain him, but beyond that there was nothing. His killer’s motivations and relationship to Hazergal were only vague recollections of long erased emotions. Fear, anger, betrayal, these feelings hovered just beyond the grasp of his mind but added their venom to his lust for revenge nonetheless.
In between his reveries and soul searching, Hazergal had experimented with his newly found powers, and to a lesser extent his demonic body. He found that he merely had to focus on a task and instantly an appropriate spell would take shape in his mind. If he needed to reach a high place, a levitation spell would quickly come to the fore. To smite an enemy, a near limitless array of attack spells would be his to command. There was no need for spellbooks, or the faulty limitations of human memory. Each spell was laid out in sharp definition, simply waiting to be used.
Hazergal was well pleased by his vastly enhanced magical skills; he was however, less than thrilled with his new body. Small and flabby, his dretch body was nothing short of pathetic. Without his magic he would be easy prey for the terrible beasts the roamed the wastes of the abyss, not to mention more powerful demons.
Unsure of how long he had lingered within his cavern, Hazergal found himself growing restless and developing a most peculiar hunger. He had not slept since his death, as his demonic body seemed to require no rest and try as he might he could not satiate the strange desire growing within him. The former arch-mage had summoned all manner of scrumptious delicacies with his magic but even after gorging himself to the point of bursting he still hungered for something more. It was a desire he could not define, that is until a group of babau stumbled into his ravine and his hunger burst forth in a ravenous tide.
There were four of the foul skeletal demons, all armed with cruel barbed lances similar to the ones used around the spawning pool of Gemnez Drak. It was clear they were searching for something as they spread out immediately after entering the ravine, probing every nook in the black, shale like rock with their lances.
They’re looking for me. Hazergal guessed instantly. The commotion he had caused at the spawning pool would certainly not go unanswered, and the great balor Hedrenatherax would most certainly seek reprisal for his defeat. Regardless, he could not allow himself to be found, as his bizarre transformation would be seen as a threat to every powerful demon in the area.
The babau were slowly making their way down the ravine, following the sluggish stream that ran down its center. They were still a good one hundred yards when Hazergal sprang his attack. The dretch arch-mage cast a number of spells in rapid succession after pulling back into the confining darkness of his cave. He forwent the verbal components to these relatively simple spells with ease and was soon cloaked in several layers of protective magicks. An invisibility spell hid him from sight while a layer of magical force protected his body from incoming blows. Lastly a spell of magical flight would allow him to assail his foes from the air and gain complete surprise.
Standing at the lip of his cavern the invisible archmage watched the babau demons move closer. Hunger welled within him, as he viewed the slime slicked bodies of the approaching demons with an aching desire that was indescribably alien, yet absolutely intoxicating.
Hazergal drifted away from his cave overlooking the ravine from a sheer mountainside some fifty feet up. The arch-mage glided through the air towards his quarry, which had now regrouped and stood clustered together, conversing in the guttural abyssal tongue. Hazergal watched as one of the babau raised an emaciated arm and pointed towards the cave he had just vacated. The remaining three demons grunted their compliance and the group of fiends began to move again.
Hazergal moved silently towards the approaching babau until he hovered just ten feet above their heads. Completely oblivious to Hazergal’s presence the babau could do nothing but react with open-mouthed shock as the object of their search suddenly appeared directly above them. Hazergal’s invisibility spell collapsed as he spewed forth the words to a powerful incantation, slightly altered in form to accommodate the dretch mage’s choice of enemies. The four babau were arranged in a staggered line, a very fortuitous arrangement for Hazergal's choice of offensive magic.
The lead babau brought his lance up in a vain attempt to strike at the hovering dretch, but was far two slow as a crackling bolt of blue flame leapt from Hazergal’s pointing index finger and slammed into the fiends skeletal chest. The babau’s body went rigid as the powerful jolt of searing hell burst through his body. The bolt burned completely through the demon but did not falter, leaping away from its initial target to strike each of the remaining babau. The stench of burning flesh drifted up to Hazergal as the four demons writhed and twisted in the grip of his mighty spell. Finally, the energy of Hazergal’s magic faded and the four babau collapsed as one to the ground in a smoldering heap.
Hazergal settled to the ground a few feet away from the carnage he had wrought and felt once again the mighty hunger pains crash into him. His mind became clouded and soon his entire universe consisted only of the smoking corpses of the babau and the irresistible aroma of their charred flesh. Near mindless with hunger Hazergal waddled over to the nearest corpse and fell to his knees next to the slain demon. His long fingered hands scrabbled over the chest of the babau and he began to dig his talons into the creature’s burnt flesh. Hazergal ripped and slashed at the babau’s chest finally boring a wide gaping hole beneath which lay a blackened lump of muscular flesh as large as two clenched fists. Hazergal reached in to the demon’s chest to clutch its now silent heart with both hands, and then with a savage tug ripped the organ free trailing a dripping mass of congealed gore.
Hazergal was drooling helplessly now completely absorbed with a lust he could not begin to understand. With a great sigh of desire now fulfilled, the dretch archmage began to devour his prize, swallowing the meat whole and still smoking. In three great bites the babau’s heart was gone but Hazergal was still ravenous. The dretch crawled to the next babau corpse and repeated the process he had enacted upon the first. Eventually he had consumed the hearts of all four babau and he sat, finally contented, his grossly distended belly jutting out prominently.
With his hunger abated Hazergal felt his mind emerging from the haze of desire that had clouded it. He was left dumbfounded. What had brought upon this strange hunger? He looked over at the four savaged corpses of the babau and felt his gorge rise. The cloying stench from their charred corpses was revolting. Why would he have such a lust to devour their flesh? What was he becoming? The thought frightened him immensely; he had had no control over his own actions when the hunger had gripped him. His demon self had simply assumed control and directed his body in its gruesome task. A black cloud of self-loathing settled over Hazergal and he stared with disgust at his gore-encrusted talons that had moments ago eagerly shoveled lumps of rotten filth into his mouth.
Hazergal's descent into self-degradation was suddenly halted by bizarre burning sensation that began in the pit of his stomach. Alarmed, he quickly climbed to his feet to promptly fall to the ground in gut wrenching agony as the strange fire in his belly became a furnace of white-hot misery. The pain spread through his entire body, locking his limbs in spastic convulsions and filling his mind with a howling maelstrom of dire images. He saw a tall kingly figure seated in a throne of black basalt, a great naked sword across his robed knees. The figure’s features were comely but the hint of demonic taint was evident in the glistening black skin, like polished onyx and glowing red orbs that burned with power beneath a clean noble brow. The bearing of a king or powerful lord was evident in the mien of the mysterious creature. His rich black robes, embroidered with silver thread, hid the rest of his body from sight, but Hazergal could tell that it would be as well made and striking as the being’s alluring visage.
Hazergal writhed helplessly but the vision continued and the former archmage seemed to hang disembodied in the throne room of this powerful fiendish lord. He watched all manner of demons supplicate themselves before the mighty figure, even balors bowed before the obvious power of the enthroned individual. The image was silent but as Hazergal watched a single word began to boil in the back of his skull. Two syllables beginning as a whisper but slowly building to finally encompass his mind in a screaming dirge. “HAZAG! HAZAG!” And when his head seemed ready to burst beneath the aural assault of the alien syllables the vision suddenly faded to black and Hazergal heard his own voice emit a terrible choked shriek, climbing up the sides of the ravine and echoing down upon him.
As the echo of his scream slowly faded, Hazergal found himself lying upon the ground, his face pressed into the bitter black earth of the ravine. Slowly the archmage found his strength and lifted his body from the ground to stand confused and reeling amid the corpses of his victims. As he stood there trying to gain control over his swirling thoughts, he noticed something odd. His vantage point was higher, as if he was some how taller. Horror cut through his confusion and he cast his eyes down to view his new body.
Emaciated black skinned flesh had replaced the drooping flab of his dretch body. He was tall, well over seven feet with long double-jointed arms ending in a hand that consisted of four fingers and a thumb. Wicked talons capped each finger and Hazergal noted with some approval the obvious adroitness in his new extremities. He ran his hand up over his skeletal chest finally to his misshapen head, which he probed, in frenzied but delicate precision. There was no trace of a nose, only two small holes below the deep bony orbs of his eye sockets. A mouth that was all fangs and terror revealed itself under his probing touch and finally he felt a single curving horn rising from the back of his skull arcing up nearly three feet to terminate in a needle sharp point.
His gaze rested on the corpses of the four demons, whose hearts he had recently consumed, and the truth of his situation rang clear and true. The bizarre laws of the abyss had touched him once again, conforming him to its own mysterious and chaotic whims. He was a dretch no longer, his grisly feast, somehow infused with the fading life essence of the slain fiends had transformed him. Hazergal the dretch was now Hazergal the babau.
Sorry for the lack of updates recently. I am in the middle of a long and protracted move up north and that combined with a recent case of the stomach flu has kept me away from the keyboard. Anyway I do have an update for you although its a bit shorter than the others. This installment brings us back to check up on Hazergal and see how he is coping with his new body.
Thanks for being patient. Also thanks to all of you who have faithfully bumped this thread to keep it on the front page, it is much appreciated.
Dirge
**********************************************************
Part VI - Hunger
Time moves oddly in the abyss, the passing of minutes and hours proceed at an apparently random and haphazard velocity. Blasphemous green suns rise and set, skies darken and become bloated with foul stinking rain. All of this happens with no forewarning or inclination just a series of all together unrelated events culminating in what makes up an abyssal day.
From his tiny cave, Hazergal the dretch watched the bizarre manifestation of abyssal weather with much fascination. He marveled at the complete and utter chaos of it all, no pattern or method could be applied to the place. It simply existed as a state of almost pure chaos. But unlike the plane of limbo, the true plane of ultimate chaos, the abyss tempered its strange manifestation with evil, black and pure. There was no beauty here, all was raving and pain, even the sky above, infested with writhing worm like clouds offered no solace or surcease from the constant hammering evil.
Hazergal had holed up in his cave for what seemed like days, rifling through his changing mind for something that would lend some sense of reason to the whole affair. He found nothing but his own, now alien thought processes and what seemed a limitless gulf of arcane knowledge. He had realized some time ago that he was no longer Hazergal. That being had ceased to be. The demon, whose flesh he now wore had added its bizarre psychology and physiology to that of the once human mage to create a new creature. He was neither wholly demon nor wholly human. The former arch-mage found that many of his memories, those from his former life, had been burned away by the terrifying ordeal he had suffered. The transformation to dretch had left his mind scoured clean of all but the rudimentary elements of self. He knew that he was Hazergal, once a human archmage in the prime material world of Faerun, but the minor details of his 75 plus years as a man were lost.
Hazergal sat and struggled in vain to recall his childhood, his parents, anything from his former existence beyond his name, his arcane ability, and those few crystal clear moments just before his death. His desire for vengeance remained strong however, although he was no longer certain why he wanted it. He remembered that Nithrekel had slain him, but beyond that there was nothing. His killer’s motivations and relationship to Hazergal were only vague recollections of long erased emotions. Fear, anger, betrayal, these feelings hovered just beyond the grasp of his mind but added their venom to his lust for revenge nonetheless.
In between his reveries and soul searching, Hazergal had experimented with his newly found powers, and to a lesser extent his demonic body. He found that he merely had to focus on a task and instantly an appropriate spell would take shape in his mind. If he needed to reach a high place, a levitation spell would quickly come to the fore. To smite an enemy, a near limitless array of attack spells would be his to command. There was no need for spellbooks, or the faulty limitations of human memory. Each spell was laid out in sharp definition, simply waiting to be used.
Hazergal was well pleased by his vastly enhanced magical skills; he was however, less than thrilled with his new body. Small and flabby, his dretch body was nothing short of pathetic. Without his magic he would be easy prey for the terrible beasts the roamed the wastes of the abyss, not to mention more powerful demons.
Unsure of how long he had lingered within his cavern, Hazergal found himself growing restless and developing a most peculiar hunger. He had not slept since his death, as his demonic body seemed to require no rest and try as he might he could not satiate the strange desire growing within him. The former arch-mage had summoned all manner of scrumptious delicacies with his magic but even after gorging himself to the point of bursting he still hungered for something more. It was a desire he could not define, that is until a group of babau stumbled into his ravine and his hunger burst forth in a ravenous tide.
There were four of the foul skeletal demons, all armed with cruel barbed lances similar to the ones used around the spawning pool of Gemnez Drak. It was clear they were searching for something as they spread out immediately after entering the ravine, probing every nook in the black, shale like rock with their lances.
They’re looking for me. Hazergal guessed instantly. The commotion he had caused at the spawning pool would certainly not go unanswered, and the great balor Hedrenatherax would most certainly seek reprisal for his defeat. Regardless, he could not allow himself to be found, as his bizarre transformation would be seen as a threat to every powerful demon in the area.
The babau were slowly making their way down the ravine, following the sluggish stream that ran down its center. They were still a good one hundred yards when Hazergal sprang his attack. The dretch arch-mage cast a number of spells in rapid succession after pulling back into the confining darkness of his cave. He forwent the verbal components to these relatively simple spells with ease and was soon cloaked in several layers of protective magicks. An invisibility spell hid him from sight while a layer of magical force protected his body from incoming blows. Lastly a spell of magical flight would allow him to assail his foes from the air and gain complete surprise.
Standing at the lip of his cavern the invisible archmage watched the babau demons move closer. Hunger welled within him, as he viewed the slime slicked bodies of the approaching demons with an aching desire that was indescribably alien, yet absolutely intoxicating.
Hazergal drifted away from his cave overlooking the ravine from a sheer mountainside some fifty feet up. The arch-mage glided through the air towards his quarry, which had now regrouped and stood clustered together, conversing in the guttural abyssal tongue. Hazergal watched as one of the babau raised an emaciated arm and pointed towards the cave he had just vacated. The remaining three demons grunted their compliance and the group of fiends began to move again.
Hazergal moved silently towards the approaching babau until he hovered just ten feet above their heads. Completely oblivious to Hazergal’s presence the babau could do nothing but react with open-mouthed shock as the object of their search suddenly appeared directly above them. Hazergal’s invisibility spell collapsed as he spewed forth the words to a powerful incantation, slightly altered in form to accommodate the dretch mage’s choice of enemies. The four babau were arranged in a staggered line, a very fortuitous arrangement for Hazergal's choice of offensive magic.
The lead babau brought his lance up in a vain attempt to strike at the hovering dretch, but was far two slow as a crackling bolt of blue flame leapt from Hazergal’s pointing index finger and slammed into the fiends skeletal chest. The babau’s body went rigid as the powerful jolt of searing hell burst through his body. The bolt burned completely through the demon but did not falter, leaping away from its initial target to strike each of the remaining babau. The stench of burning flesh drifted up to Hazergal as the four demons writhed and twisted in the grip of his mighty spell. Finally, the energy of Hazergal’s magic faded and the four babau collapsed as one to the ground in a smoldering heap.
Hazergal settled to the ground a few feet away from the carnage he had wrought and felt once again the mighty hunger pains crash into him. His mind became clouded and soon his entire universe consisted only of the smoking corpses of the babau and the irresistible aroma of their charred flesh. Near mindless with hunger Hazergal waddled over to the nearest corpse and fell to his knees next to the slain demon. His long fingered hands scrabbled over the chest of the babau and he began to dig his talons into the creature’s burnt flesh. Hazergal ripped and slashed at the babau’s chest finally boring a wide gaping hole beneath which lay a blackened lump of muscular flesh as large as two clenched fists. Hazergal reached in to the demon’s chest to clutch its now silent heart with both hands, and then with a savage tug ripped the organ free trailing a dripping mass of congealed gore.
Hazergal was drooling helplessly now completely absorbed with a lust he could not begin to understand. With a great sigh of desire now fulfilled, the dretch archmage began to devour his prize, swallowing the meat whole and still smoking. In three great bites the babau’s heart was gone but Hazergal was still ravenous. The dretch crawled to the next babau corpse and repeated the process he had enacted upon the first. Eventually he had consumed the hearts of all four babau and he sat, finally contented, his grossly distended belly jutting out prominently.
With his hunger abated Hazergal felt his mind emerging from the haze of desire that had clouded it. He was left dumbfounded. What had brought upon this strange hunger? He looked over at the four savaged corpses of the babau and felt his gorge rise. The cloying stench from their charred corpses was revolting. Why would he have such a lust to devour their flesh? What was he becoming? The thought frightened him immensely; he had had no control over his own actions when the hunger had gripped him. His demon self had simply assumed control and directed his body in its gruesome task. A black cloud of self-loathing settled over Hazergal and he stared with disgust at his gore-encrusted talons that had moments ago eagerly shoveled lumps of rotten filth into his mouth.
Hazergal's descent into self-degradation was suddenly halted by bizarre burning sensation that began in the pit of his stomach. Alarmed, he quickly climbed to his feet to promptly fall to the ground in gut wrenching agony as the strange fire in his belly became a furnace of white-hot misery. The pain spread through his entire body, locking his limbs in spastic convulsions and filling his mind with a howling maelstrom of dire images. He saw a tall kingly figure seated in a throne of black basalt, a great naked sword across his robed knees. The figure’s features were comely but the hint of demonic taint was evident in the glistening black skin, like polished onyx and glowing red orbs that burned with power beneath a clean noble brow. The bearing of a king or powerful lord was evident in the mien of the mysterious creature. His rich black robes, embroidered with silver thread, hid the rest of his body from sight, but Hazergal could tell that it would be as well made and striking as the being’s alluring visage.
Hazergal writhed helplessly but the vision continued and the former archmage seemed to hang disembodied in the throne room of this powerful fiendish lord. He watched all manner of demons supplicate themselves before the mighty figure, even balors bowed before the obvious power of the enthroned individual. The image was silent but as Hazergal watched a single word began to boil in the back of his skull. Two syllables beginning as a whisper but slowly building to finally encompass his mind in a screaming dirge. “HAZAG! HAZAG!” And when his head seemed ready to burst beneath the aural assault of the alien syllables the vision suddenly faded to black and Hazergal heard his own voice emit a terrible choked shriek, climbing up the sides of the ravine and echoing down upon him.
As the echo of his scream slowly faded, Hazergal found himself lying upon the ground, his face pressed into the bitter black earth of the ravine. Slowly the archmage found his strength and lifted his body from the ground to stand confused and reeling amid the corpses of his victims. As he stood there trying to gain control over his swirling thoughts, he noticed something odd. His vantage point was higher, as if he was some how taller. Horror cut through his confusion and he cast his eyes down to view his new body.
Emaciated black skinned flesh had replaced the drooping flab of his dretch body. He was tall, well over seven feet with long double-jointed arms ending in a hand that consisted of four fingers and a thumb. Wicked talons capped each finger and Hazergal noted with some approval the obvious adroitness in his new extremities. He ran his hand up over his skeletal chest finally to his misshapen head, which he probed, in frenzied but delicate precision. There was no trace of a nose, only two small holes below the deep bony orbs of his eye sockets. A mouth that was all fangs and terror revealed itself under his probing touch and finally he felt a single curving horn rising from the back of his skull arcing up nearly three feet to terminate in a needle sharp point.
His gaze rested on the corpses of the four demons, whose hearts he had recently consumed, and the truth of his situation rang clear and true. The bizarre laws of the abyss had touched him once again, conforming him to its own mysterious and chaotic whims. He was a dretch no longer, his grisly feast, somehow infused with the fading life essence of the slain fiends had transformed him. Hazergal the dretch was now Hazergal the babau.
Last edited:
Thomas Hobbes
First Post
Babau hearts- yummy.
Worth the wait as always, Blackdirge. Hope you feel better and progress through the move without any problems.
Worth the wait as always, Blackdirge. Hope you feel better and progress through the move without any problems.
Derulbaskul
Adventurer
Thanks, BD! You're a good fella!
Trust the move went well and that your health is on the improve.
Cheers
D
Trust the move went well and that your health is on the improve.
Cheers
D
Look_a_Unicorn
First Post
May good health & a comfortable adobe be yours... after all it means you'll be more able to provide us with updates
BLACKDIRGE
Adventurer
ConnorSB said:
Thank you very much.
As to stats and such...
I do actually have a thread in the rogue's gallery devoted to this story. It will eventually contain stats for each of Hazergal's transformations as well as some of the other major players in the story. The thread hasn't been updated in a while, a fact I intend to remedy as soon as I am settled. But, to answer your question, I am indeed "winging it", writing what I think sounds interesting and then worrying about the rules later.
Thanks for reading.
Dirge
SpuneDagr
Explorer
Awsome story, Dirge.
Haz's ascension through the demonic ranks is off to a really fast start! He was only a dretch for a few days, and now he's a babau. Most dretches don't advance for centuries, if they advance at all. I guess Haz is highly motivated, huh?
Anyway, I love it, and you're great. Keep up the good work.
Haz's ascension through the demonic ranks is off to a really fast start! He was only a dretch for a few days, and now he's a babau. Most dretches don't advance for centuries, if they advance at all. I guess Haz is highly motivated, huh?
Anyway, I love it, and you're great. Keep up the good work.
Similar Threads
