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Rule of Darkness -Book II Chapter 3 Last Update 19 June 2008- Book I Completed
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<blockquote data-quote="Ghostknight" data-source="post: 3466127" data-attributes="member: 15338"><p><strong>Chapter 25</strong></p><p></p><p>A lone devil made its way through the tunnels. As it travelled ever deeper into the earth, it was shadowed by movement in front, and behind. The guardians of the city had seen it coming three days ago, and watched as it neared, trying to guess to where it was headed. It moved purposefully, its golden armour highlighting its dark red skin and eyes, which were deep, black bottomless pits, visible from afar in the glow of light from the armour. Down the path on which it travelled, at the final gate to the cavern of Harmony Hall, Delire stood with Gattoup, waiting.</p><p> </p><p>"Who do you think this one represents?" Gattoup looked towards Delire, hoping that the halfling would shed some light on the devil as it moved towards them, and allay his own fears of discovery.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know. I fear it does not bode well. It is too confident, too sure of itself for any of the hidden factions; but if it represents Jelial, then why does it come alone? Why does it venture towards us with such certainty? If Jelial knows of this settlement, then why not send an entire army, instead of a single fiend?" She looked out, her face reflecting her worry, her small hands continuously darting to the handles of her weapons as if for reassurance.</p><p> </p><p>Gattoup said very little, watching as he saw some of the scouts that ran ahead of the intruder come to the gate and enter. A few moments later, they arrived at the observation point, briefly bowing before Delire and the Militia Captain. One was an elderly human, his hair white and his face burnt dark from the sun. The sight of that face alone marked him as an Outwalker, even before the badge and cloak announced him as such. The other scout was taller than the human, his dark skin and grey eyes betraying nothing more than his race. Like the human, he wore the cloak of an Outwalker.</p><p> </p><p>The human spoke first. "Delire, that fiend there, or some of his kin, were in the lot that attacked Weald Hall. I've never seen the like of its armour, though."</p><p> </p><p>"Its tread beats out a song of woe. It has the look of one that is sure none would dare sing a counter-harmony against it." The voice of the Dark Paeon was measured, poetic; a harmonious melody that soothed the ears. "I have seen the like of this one; it is neither warrior nor mage. It comes as a messenger, secure in its master's power to protect it from attack."</p><p> </p><p>"I thank you both. Go and rest, you have done well to keep this intruder in sight." Delire dismissed the two, watching as Gattoup's eyes followed them in their descent.</p><p> </p><p>"You are pensive, Gattoup. What ails? Do you not trust those two?"</p><p> </p><p>"Not that, Delire. It worries me that Jelial sends this one messenger where I would expect an entire army. What game is he playing with us?"</p><p> </p><p>"We will know soon enough. The scouts were not that far ahead of him; he will be here shortly." The two stood, staring out at the hole in the wall through which the devil would emerge. They remained silent, the conversation running dry as the devil was disgorged from the tunnel. They peered forward into the caverns torch lit gloom as it approached, its confident strides carrying it into the area in front of the sealed gates.</p><p> </p><p>"I call for a hearing and parlay. My Master sends a message that I would deliver." </p><p> </p><p>The devil's voice boomed out, some magic working to make sure it was loud enough that none had to strain to hear it.</p><p> </p><p>"Speak. You will come no further unless you can prove you have need." The voice of Delire was soft in comparison to the fiend's, but it was clear that the fiend heard and understood.</p><p> </p><p>It did not respond immediately, its eyes searching the wall ahead of it. It could not see the one who addressed it; the observation point was hidden, using mirrors to show the area before it. This did not seem to bother the devil, for when it spoke, it did so by addressing those who watched.</p><p> </p><p>"Hear my message, halfling. In three days' time, the moon will be hidden from view. For three days, the world will know utter darkness by night. This time has been declared as Jelial's Revel. My Master will graciously allow you to continue to exist, in return for your oath of fealty and acceptance of one of his court to be overlord of this city. Nothing more need be said, your actions will signify if we battle or become brothers. Listen to my voice to know my Master's wishes so you may obey." </p><p> </p><p>The fiend spread its arms, the golden armour spreading a soft radiance. "Each night of the Revel you must choose one from amongst your number to be offered to Jelial. The offering must be old, respected and unwilling. The offering must be killed publicly while the name of Jelial is invoked. Each morning of the Revel, an offering must be made. The offering must be young, innocent and unwilling. Do this, and peace shall reign once your Overlord arrives. Disobey, and the next set of emissaries will be an army."</p><p> </p><p>Delire looked at the messenger, her face red and swollen in fury.</p><p> </p><p>"Begone, Foul one. Your Master's foul stench clings to you."</p><p> </p><p>The messenger seemed unconcerned with her response, bowing in the direction of Delire and Gattoup, though they were not in the area from which her voice emanated. "Remember, the Revel is in three days. In three days the offerings must be made or your city will suffer."</p><p> </p><p>The devil turned and left; its disdain for them evident in its ignoring the threat of the army behind the walls. The scouts that had followed behind, and now watched as it moved past them through the tunnel, quailed at the sight of its face, the grin and fierce burning in its eyes a promise of the evil to come. On the walls behind it, Delire turned to Gattoup.</p><p> </p><p>"Gather the Council; we need to prepare for war. There is nowhere for us to run. If they march on us, you can be assured that Fort Livian will face an assault of its own and Gunder's Hall is ill-prepared for such a migration at this point. They suffer from a fiend-borne plague, perhaps more of the evil Jelial works at this time."</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The three companions stood before the ramparts of Harmony Hall. For Jeria and Mekior, it was a welcome sight of home, but Gyv looked on with serious misgivings. Three years ago she had left for Gunder's Hall, leaving the city to escape the one she loved, but who seemed unable, or unwilling, to turn their love into a commitment. She looked across at Mekior who stood there with his green, scaled skin shining in the bright lights of the city's gates. His face, with its squat nose and burning eyes turned towards the city. His secret had gone unspoken for a long time, and now, revealed, perhaps things would be different, perhaps now they could have the life she had wished for in years gone by; a family to replace the one killed by her unwitting betrayal. </p><p> </p><p>Mekior looked at her, and kissed her gently before he spoke, his words soft.</p><p> </p><p>"It will be interesting to see how the city reacts to me. I am tempted to change back, return to my previous charade; yet at the same time I am reluctant to continue to live a lie. I am famed as a fiend hunter, yet even that reputation may well be destroyed when my true nature is known." He sighed and then looked ruefully at Gyv. "I am a coward. I do not wish to make this decision so I leave it to you, my love. Do you want it known that I am fiend, or would you prefer the more publicly acceptable face of my illusionary form?"</p><p> </p><p>"Stay as you are. I, too, have changed. Let people know us for what we are. If they cannot accept us here, we can go elsewhere. Gunder's Hall would welcome us." Gyv came closer, lining her arm with his, gazing into his face. "I have accepted you, nothing else matters to me." Jeria stood close by, listening, but not commenting, his mind remained set on Aspith and Secheriab, supposed allies, but devils none the less. Throughout the journey back, he had contemplated the growing alliances with growing unease. Would the Lord of the Eighth be happy to depart if they could unseat Jelial? How much of Aspith's story was true, and if it was true, how much could he tell them of the Prophecy of Gerogh?</p><p> </p><p>The three walked towards the city, noting the scrambling of guards, the consternation that they had come so close to the city but had not been seen by those who guarded the paths. Drums could be heard, sounding the alarm, summoning guards to the gates. The presence of the strange green fiend between another of fiendish blood and a heavily scarred human woman did not do much to allay their fears. It was only when they came close enough for the details of their features to be seen, and for Jeria to be recognised, that the guards started to relax. A few of the older guards recognised Gyv and wondered at her transformation. None recognised Mekior, though some wondered at a fiend dressed in the colours of the city and bearing the arms and armour of a fiend hunter, addorned with the badge of their city.</p><p> </p><p>As they entered, Jeria called for the captain of the watch.</p><p> </p><p>"I need to speak with Delire, much has transpired."</p><p> </p><p>"More than you know, Out Walker." The captain hesitated, looking in the direction of Gyv and Mekior.</p><p> </p><p>"Speak, Captain, these two can be trusted."</p><p> </p><p>"Lord Jeria, two days ago an emissary from Jelial arrived." Jeria jumped, startled at the news. The city was known, its anonymity compromised. "They want us to sacrifice people from the city, in the name of Jelial. Few understand the motivation behind this, unless it is just to invoke our fear and show our obedience to his will."</p><p> </p><p>"No, it is more than that, but what it is need be said, in private, to Delire and the council. Where can we find her at this time?" Mekior's voice was harsh, and tinged with fear. Gyv looked at him sharply, but he raised one taloned hand to invoke silence.</p><p> </p><p>"If you want Delire and the Council, you are in luck. At this moment, they sit and discuss what is to be done."</p><p> </p><p>Nodding to the Captain, the three headed into the city, the squad of guards that followed them obvious, their cold iron weapons at the ready, an indication that they were not yet trusted. Many eyes followed them as they moved through the city streets, most people stopped to watch the procession of this unusual group. None challenged them, though, and in time they stood before the doorway that led to the council chambers.</p><p> </p><p>Within the chambers argument raged. At the head of the Council sat Master Harper Darid, clearly tired by the debate that raged around him. At the head table sat only two others, Delire and Gattoup. The three faced the council members, thirty people chosen from the affluent and powerful within the city. As the companions entered the room, a pallid, thin man, in bright green clothing and a large, floppy hat, argued that perhaps the time for surrender had come. From what the companions could see, there seemed to be many that agreed with him. Jeria leant across to the others, whispering softly.</p><p> </p><p>"People grow tired of running. They have seen one city destroyed; they fear the consequences of another battle."</p><p> </p><p>Mekior's eyes blazed crimson, and he stepped forward, his figure garnering immediate attention. All fell silent in the face of an unknown fiend within the council chambers. Delire was on her feet, hands hovering close to her weapons. The sight of Jeria stopped her immediate rush to attack the fiend, but it was obvious that very little would be needed for those deadly weapons to be drawn and wielded.</p><p> </p><p>"You all know me, though you do not recognise me. I am Mekior, Fiend Hunter and long time defender of this city." A simple statement, but it created pandemonium. Dark Paeons, humans and all others within the hall started talking. Shouts of "Traitor" and "Spy" littered the air, till the Master Harpist stood.</p><p> </p><p>"There will be silence; let the voice of Mekior be the soloist in our choir. In time, if necessary, we can investigate the past. For now, let us hear what he has to say."</p><p> </p><p>Mekior bowed and moved, so as to be able to see both those seated at the main table, and those that sat in the chamber before them.</p><p> </p><p>"Jelial calls for sacrifices. He uses the fear of his army to try and force you into obeying. I call on you to think, to wonder why he would do such a thing instead of just crushing the city as he has done to so many cities before." He stopped speaking for a moment. "He seeks divinity. He seeks the power of belief, of your wills fuelling the aether with words of prayer directed towards himself. Do this thing, and you will grant him power to demand a seat as a Lord of Hell. This place will become yet another layer of Hell, any chance of defeating Jelial gone. Denying him may mean war, maybe even defeat for those who sit here, but obeying him means eternal doom."</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Gerion looked over his massed forces. Soon they would strike. He mused over the plan that had been decided on, an attack on the first day of Jelial's Revel while the moon lay hidden. As with the attack by the dwarves on the Fort of Peaks, devils with the power to transport others would take the bulk of the forces to the battlefield. A further refinement had been added; a contingent of sorcerers would go first, to hide the devils as they arrived, masking both sight and sound of the arriving army. </p><p> </p><p>Gerion waited until his commanders came forward. Each was a devil of singular appearance. The leader of his cavalry was a strange combination of various creatures. His head was that of an elephant, his body massively built and muscled with thick black hair appearing in places, resembling nothing more than that of a gorilla. His hands were human-like, tipped with shimmering steel nails, his feet the massive pads of a lion with claws that beat a staccato beat on the floor as they slithered in and out of their sheaths. Beside him stood a beautiful, female devil; she wore little more than the three swords at her side, easily drawn by her four arms, her eyes multifaceted and reflecting thousands of broken images of Gerion back at him, her fourth arm bore a small buckler strapped to her forearm. Her command was the infantry.</p><p> </p><p>The last devil gave even Gerion cold shivers whenever he entered the room. His head was huge, a massive oval that contained two tiny, beady, pitch black eyes that never blinked, and a massive mouth filled with row after row of razor sharp teeth. His horrific visage was but one aspect of his being, more chilling to most, however, was his reputation as a wielder of arcane magical might. None knew how potent his magic truly was, and the few that felt tempted to challenge him were most often found as chewed up, dry husks. All stood before Gerion, awaiting his orders.</p><p> </p><p>"We will attack the Fort of Peaks at two bells after midnight. We have discussed the plans, and all know the dispensations for tomorrow's battle. Any questions?"</p><p></p><p>The oval headed mage turned to Gerion. "Why do we waste our time on the Fort of Peaks? Surely we should just crush the city by the lake, take it for our own. Let the souls of all its dead be offered to our mighty leader in an attempt to bolster his ascension."</p><p> </p><p>Gerion leaned forward, his hands firm on the table. </p><p> </p><p>"Jelial's order are explicit, the Fort of Peaks first. You wish to discuss his reasoning, do so. You know where he holds court." Silence reigned over the group; none was foolish enough to want to appear before Jelial to dispute his orders, not before a summons had been received!</p><p> </p><p>Gerion smiled. "Then in the absence of any further questions, prepare yourselves for the bloodletting to come!"</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>In Fort Livian, King D'Mier looked over his ranked soldiers. Hasty preparations were being made, the inside of the walls receiving additional bolstering while continuous wagon trains brought in food from the areas outside. Between that, the inside caverns of edible fungi and the deep, underground lake, the city would be well provisioned for a lengthy siege. </p><p> </p><p>Why now? After so long, why does Jelial come forth with such demands, ones which he knows we will never accede to? D'Mier stood, looking over his demesne, worried and wondering what would become of the world beneath the earth if Fort Livian should fall.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Ghostknight, post: 3466127, member: 15338"] [b]Chapter 25[/b] A lone devil made its way through the tunnels. As it travelled ever deeper into the earth, it was shadowed by movement in front, and behind. The guardians of the city had seen it coming three days ago, and watched as it neared, trying to guess to where it was headed. It moved purposefully, its golden armour highlighting its dark red skin and eyes, which were deep, black bottomless pits, visible from afar in the glow of light from the armour. Down the path on which it travelled, at the final gate to the cavern of Harmony Hall, Delire stood with Gattoup, waiting. "Who do you think this one represents?" Gattoup looked towards Delire, hoping that the halfling would shed some light on the devil as it moved towards them, and allay his own fears of discovery. "I don't know. I fear it does not bode well. It is too confident, too sure of itself for any of the hidden factions; but if it represents Jelial, then why does it come alone? Why does it venture towards us with such certainty? If Jelial knows of this settlement, then why not send an entire army, instead of a single fiend?" She looked out, her face reflecting her worry, her small hands continuously darting to the handles of her weapons as if for reassurance. Gattoup said very little, watching as he saw some of the scouts that ran ahead of the intruder come to the gate and enter. A few moments later, they arrived at the observation point, briefly bowing before Delire and the Militia Captain. One was an elderly human, his hair white and his face burnt dark from the sun. The sight of that face alone marked him as an Outwalker, even before the badge and cloak announced him as such. The other scout was taller than the human, his dark skin and grey eyes betraying nothing more than his race. Like the human, he wore the cloak of an Outwalker. The human spoke first. "Delire, that fiend there, or some of his kin, were in the lot that attacked Weald Hall. I've never seen the like of its armour, though." "Its tread beats out a song of woe. It has the look of one that is sure none would dare sing a counter-harmony against it." The voice of the Dark Paeon was measured, poetic; a harmonious melody that soothed the ears. "I have seen the like of this one; it is neither warrior nor mage. It comes as a messenger, secure in its master's power to protect it from attack." "I thank you both. Go and rest, you have done well to keep this intruder in sight." Delire dismissed the two, watching as Gattoup's eyes followed them in their descent. "You are pensive, Gattoup. What ails? Do you not trust those two?" "Not that, Delire. It worries me that Jelial sends this one messenger where I would expect an entire army. What game is he playing with us?" "We will know soon enough. The scouts were not that far ahead of him; he will be here shortly." The two stood, staring out at the hole in the wall through which the devil would emerge. They remained silent, the conversation running dry as the devil was disgorged from the tunnel. They peered forward into the caverns torch lit gloom as it approached, its confident strides carrying it into the area in front of the sealed gates. "I call for a hearing and parlay. My Master sends a message that I would deliver." The devil's voice boomed out, some magic working to make sure it was loud enough that none had to strain to hear it. "Speak. You will come no further unless you can prove you have need." The voice of Delire was soft in comparison to the fiend's, but it was clear that the fiend heard and understood. It did not respond immediately, its eyes searching the wall ahead of it. It could not see the one who addressed it; the observation point was hidden, using mirrors to show the area before it. This did not seem to bother the devil, for when it spoke, it did so by addressing those who watched. "Hear my message, halfling. In three days' time, the moon will be hidden from view. For three days, the world will know utter darkness by night. This time has been declared as Jelial's Revel. My Master will graciously allow you to continue to exist, in return for your oath of fealty and acceptance of one of his court to be overlord of this city. Nothing more need be said, your actions will signify if we battle or become brothers. Listen to my voice to know my Master's wishes so you may obey." The fiend spread its arms, the golden armour spreading a soft radiance. "Each night of the Revel you must choose one from amongst your number to be offered to Jelial. The offering must be old, respected and unwilling. The offering must be killed publicly while the name of Jelial is invoked. Each morning of the Revel, an offering must be made. The offering must be young, innocent and unwilling. Do this, and peace shall reign once your Overlord arrives. Disobey, and the next set of emissaries will be an army." Delire looked at the messenger, her face red and swollen in fury. "Begone, Foul one. Your Master's foul stench clings to you." The messenger seemed unconcerned with her response, bowing in the direction of Delire and Gattoup, though they were not in the area from which her voice emanated. "Remember, the Revel is in three days. In three days the offerings must be made or your city will suffer." The devil turned and left; its disdain for them evident in its ignoring the threat of the army behind the walls. The scouts that had followed behind, and now watched as it moved past them through the tunnel, quailed at the sight of its face, the grin and fierce burning in its eyes a promise of the evil to come. On the walls behind it, Delire turned to Gattoup. "Gather the Council; we need to prepare for war. There is nowhere for us to run. If they march on us, you can be assured that Fort Livian will face an assault of its own and Gunder's Hall is ill-prepared for such a migration at this point. They suffer from a fiend-borne plague, perhaps more of the evil Jelial works at this time." *** The three companions stood before the ramparts of Harmony Hall. For Jeria and Mekior, it was a welcome sight of home, but Gyv looked on with serious misgivings. Three years ago she had left for Gunder's Hall, leaving the city to escape the one she loved, but who seemed unable, or unwilling, to turn their love into a commitment. She looked across at Mekior who stood there with his green, scaled skin shining in the bright lights of the city's gates. His face, with its squat nose and burning eyes turned towards the city. His secret had gone unspoken for a long time, and now, revealed, perhaps things would be different, perhaps now they could have the life she had wished for in years gone by; a family to replace the one killed by her unwitting betrayal. Mekior looked at her, and kissed her gently before he spoke, his words soft. "It will be interesting to see how the city reacts to me. I am tempted to change back, return to my previous charade; yet at the same time I am reluctant to continue to live a lie. I am famed as a fiend hunter, yet even that reputation may well be destroyed when my true nature is known." He sighed and then looked ruefully at Gyv. "I am a coward. I do not wish to make this decision so I leave it to you, my love. Do you want it known that I am fiend, or would you prefer the more publicly acceptable face of my illusionary form?" "Stay as you are. I, too, have changed. Let people know us for what we are. If they cannot accept us here, we can go elsewhere. Gunder's Hall would welcome us." Gyv came closer, lining her arm with his, gazing into his face. "I have accepted you, nothing else matters to me." Jeria stood close by, listening, but not commenting, his mind remained set on Aspith and Secheriab, supposed allies, but devils none the less. Throughout the journey back, he had contemplated the growing alliances with growing unease. Would the Lord of the Eighth be happy to depart if they could unseat Jelial? How much of Aspith's story was true, and if it was true, how much could he tell them of the Prophecy of Gerogh? The three walked towards the city, noting the scrambling of guards, the consternation that they had come so close to the city but had not been seen by those who guarded the paths. Drums could be heard, sounding the alarm, summoning guards to the gates. The presence of the strange green fiend between another of fiendish blood and a heavily scarred human woman did not do much to allay their fears. It was only when they came close enough for the details of their features to be seen, and for Jeria to be recognised, that the guards started to relax. A few of the older guards recognised Gyv and wondered at her transformation. None recognised Mekior, though some wondered at a fiend dressed in the colours of the city and bearing the arms and armour of a fiend hunter, addorned with the badge of their city. As they entered, Jeria called for the captain of the watch. "I need to speak with Delire, much has transpired." "More than you know, Out Walker." The captain hesitated, looking in the direction of Gyv and Mekior. "Speak, Captain, these two can be trusted." "Lord Jeria, two days ago an emissary from Jelial arrived." Jeria jumped, startled at the news. The city was known, its anonymity compromised. "They want us to sacrifice people from the city, in the name of Jelial. Few understand the motivation behind this, unless it is just to invoke our fear and show our obedience to his will." "No, it is more than that, but what it is need be said, in private, to Delire and the council. Where can we find her at this time?" Mekior's voice was harsh, and tinged with fear. Gyv looked at him sharply, but he raised one taloned hand to invoke silence. "If you want Delire and the Council, you are in luck. At this moment, they sit and discuss what is to be done." Nodding to the Captain, the three headed into the city, the squad of guards that followed them obvious, their cold iron weapons at the ready, an indication that they were not yet trusted. Many eyes followed them as they moved through the city streets, most people stopped to watch the procession of this unusual group. None challenged them, though, and in time they stood before the doorway that led to the council chambers. Within the chambers argument raged. At the head of the Council sat Master Harper Darid, clearly tired by the debate that raged around him. At the head table sat only two others, Delire and Gattoup. The three faced the council members, thirty people chosen from the affluent and powerful within the city. As the companions entered the room, a pallid, thin man, in bright green clothing and a large, floppy hat, argued that perhaps the time for surrender had come. From what the companions could see, there seemed to be many that agreed with him. Jeria leant across to the others, whispering softly. "People grow tired of running. They have seen one city destroyed; they fear the consequences of another battle." Mekior's eyes blazed crimson, and he stepped forward, his figure garnering immediate attention. All fell silent in the face of an unknown fiend within the council chambers. Delire was on her feet, hands hovering close to her weapons. The sight of Jeria stopped her immediate rush to attack the fiend, but it was obvious that very little would be needed for those deadly weapons to be drawn and wielded. "You all know me, though you do not recognise me. I am Mekior, Fiend Hunter and long time defender of this city." A simple statement, but it created pandemonium. Dark Paeons, humans and all others within the hall started talking. Shouts of "Traitor" and "Spy" littered the air, till the Master Harpist stood. "There will be silence; let the voice of Mekior be the soloist in our choir. In time, if necessary, we can investigate the past. For now, let us hear what he has to say." Mekior bowed and moved, so as to be able to see both those seated at the main table, and those that sat in the chamber before them. "Jelial calls for sacrifices. He uses the fear of his army to try and force you into obeying. I call on you to think, to wonder why he would do such a thing instead of just crushing the city as he has done to so many cities before." He stopped speaking for a moment. "He seeks divinity. He seeks the power of belief, of your wills fuelling the aether with words of prayer directed towards himself. Do this thing, and you will grant him power to demand a seat as a Lord of Hell. This place will become yet another layer of Hell, any chance of defeating Jelial gone. Denying him may mean war, maybe even defeat for those who sit here, but obeying him means eternal doom." *** Gerion looked over his massed forces. Soon they would strike. He mused over the plan that had been decided on, an attack on the first day of Jelial's Revel while the moon lay hidden. As with the attack by the dwarves on the Fort of Peaks, devils with the power to transport others would take the bulk of the forces to the battlefield. A further refinement had been added; a contingent of sorcerers would go first, to hide the devils as they arrived, masking both sight and sound of the arriving army. Gerion waited until his commanders came forward. Each was a devil of singular appearance. The leader of his cavalry was a strange combination of various creatures. His head was that of an elephant, his body massively built and muscled with thick black hair appearing in places, resembling nothing more than that of a gorilla. His hands were human-like, tipped with shimmering steel nails, his feet the massive pads of a lion with claws that beat a staccato beat on the floor as they slithered in and out of their sheaths. Beside him stood a beautiful, female devil; she wore little more than the three swords at her side, easily drawn by her four arms, her eyes multifaceted and reflecting thousands of broken images of Gerion back at him, her fourth arm bore a small buckler strapped to her forearm. Her command was the infantry. The last devil gave even Gerion cold shivers whenever he entered the room. His head was huge, a massive oval that contained two tiny, beady, pitch black eyes that never blinked, and a massive mouth filled with row after row of razor sharp teeth. His horrific visage was but one aspect of his being, more chilling to most, however, was his reputation as a wielder of arcane magical might. None knew how potent his magic truly was, and the few that felt tempted to challenge him were most often found as chewed up, dry husks. All stood before Gerion, awaiting his orders. "We will attack the Fort of Peaks at two bells after midnight. We have discussed the plans, and all know the dispensations for tomorrow's battle. Any questions?" The oval headed mage turned to Gerion. "Why do we waste our time on the Fort of Peaks? Surely we should just crush the city by the lake, take it for our own. Let the souls of all its dead be offered to our mighty leader in an attempt to bolster his ascension." Gerion leaned forward, his hands firm on the table. "Jelial's order are explicit, the Fort of Peaks first. You wish to discuss his reasoning, do so. You know where he holds court." Silence reigned over the group; none was foolish enough to want to appear before Jelial to dispute his orders, not before a summons had been received! Gerion smiled. "Then in the absence of any further questions, prepare yourselves for the bloodletting to come!" *** In Fort Livian, King D'Mier looked over his ranked soldiers. Hasty preparations were being made, the inside of the walls receiving additional bolstering while continuous wagon trains brought in food from the areas outside. Between that, the inside caverns of edible fungi and the deep, underground lake, the city would be well provisioned for a lengthy siege. Why now? After so long, why does Jelial come forth with such demands, ones which he knows we will never accede to? D'Mier stood, looking over his demesne, worried and wondering what would become of the world beneath the earth if Fort Livian should fall. [/QUOTE]
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Rule of Darkness -Book II Chapter 3 Last Update 19 June 2008- Book I Completed
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