Starbliss Angel 
Founder of Fantasy World
Fantasy World's Goddess
and Devoted Guardian
of FW High Council
Posts: 1285
(9/12/05 9:55 pm)
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The Summoning
By Total_Carnage
Because I'm bored and have bugger all else to do, may as well post another piece of writing. It was the first 'segment' I did for a greater story. It was later established though that this segment was to come at least a quarter of the way through a much grander storyline, a creation of numerous writers. Unfortunately it fell apart shortly after this. Nothing to do with me, honest >.>
"Ba'Ator be &&$!ed you worthless wretch! Shall you learn the hard way that I shant be undermined nor failed! Your insolence shall serve you your condemnation brutally!" The Daemon bellowed, great globs of spittle dribbling down it's horned chin and collar. Such grand ember eyes, flared furiously in deep set sockets, bridged with gleaming spines. The Greater Daemon, Fal'Umn, rose from his throne to the shuddering of the molten earth, his titan-like form towering above all else within his chamber, as snakes of flame writhed in sepulchral forms across his ruby-murked flesh. There were few that had ever left without being marked eternal by the greater daemon's visage, imprinted forever - for it bestowed them with such sights of horror. Rows of jagged teeth, layered in a slime of spittle, set in gaping jaws emblazened in a garish skull that only emphasised the sheer might of such a cretan. "Be you learn now, never to fail me again.." his teeth gnashing, a great arm rose, his palm open and fingers spread. He had no time for incompetance. Ablazen with fury, there came a great surge of energy, rippling the foul air as though it were water.
"But..But..I can explain, they are -- !" the diminutive hellion spattered, rasping its words through a beak lined with jagged teeth that seemed pathetic in comparison to the greater daemon. Though his words had not stammered from his nerve, merely to the simple fact he had spontaneously exploded, splattering the floor and walls of the throne room in a gelatonous dark crimson, bones rattling across the corners. Fal'Umn growled tediously, the sound reverberating throughout the vast corridors as he sat back down within his throne with a dull thud. "How am I to claim the artifact with such petty servants..Had I been able to walk this foul rock I would have claimed it myself long before now, but until it is in my grasp, I must wait tiresomely for the next creature of defication to prove his willingness.." Grunting, his patience lost, he casually back-handed a fluttering serpent as it approached with it's master's minor tidbit. Shrieking as it flew, mingled with a dilution of hisses, it only silenced once it's body was crushed into the face of a pillar stone, dropping limply to the charred ground. It meant nothing, duelly, to the greater daemon.
His servants, attaining the general knowledge that now was a time to leave their master be, scuttled from the chamber hastilly. Fal'Umn scowled while he thought, placing a talonned hand across his chin. Perhaps he had been going about this the wrong way. Perhaps..he had been using the wrong kind of servant..he wasn't being subtle enough. So many levels of $@&~ation beneath the grounds of hell, and he had been so arrogant as to use petty abominations for his task. "Eren'Vir!" he bellowed finally, breaking his thoughtful silence, lowering his massive palms to curl around the arms of his throne. His mongering eyes narrowed as he watched the throne room doors part, and within the narrow shaft of light, trundled forward a creation of little spine. He was a personal favorite of Fal'Umn's, simply because he provided an effective messenger, and he looked forward to eviscerating the fool when the day came that he failed. "Y-yes, my leige.." his twisted skull bown, he dropped to his knees quite unintentionally, shaken. "I need you to send word to the unearthly rivers..there is a lesser daemon there I demand the presence of. Bring him. He will be easily found - there are few daemons within the rivers. Now go!" His words erupted, and to his twisted glee, watch as his servant fled from the room.
Once again left to his thoughts, Fal'Umn mused his plans for the future. He needed only to obtain every shard of this moon stone, and the earth would be his..The levels of *!!$ation would be his..Even the gods would surely tremble at his might. Since his unbinding from the chasm, he had immediately began his search for the stone - though under a veil of descretion, not wishing the few other greater daemons to know of his plans. They did not trust him as it were, not since the Day of a Thousand Faces, when he himself had led an uprising to attempt a rule over the hell. That century had been a y one, and inevitably a failure, as was his banishment for an entire millenia. Revenge would be his, indefinitely, and he would prove to the heirarchy that he was fit to rule them all under the gaze of the moon stone. However, getting it, was the sheer extent of the problem - the greater daemons were unable to leave their thrones, lest some gluttonous hellionite try banish him forever and attain his own rule across the level. The underworldly beings had no morals - it was a constant fight for power.
--
"M-My Leige..The Daemon you asked of.." Eren'Vir stuttered, brushing himself aside while presenting his arms in a motion so that his follower might approach the great lord. His follower, however, bore no resemblance whatsoever to either Fal'Umn or Eren'Vir. He appeared of human complex, much to the Greater Daemon's disgust, but if his reputation was true to his purpose, then naught should go awry. The Lesser Daemon stepped forth, to the quite audible sound of screeching metal, grazing and s!~~@ing with each footfall he took - for he was adorned so uniquely in an armamentation that appeared identifiably like that of the hell forge workings. So it was true..The Great Daemon continued to muse, looking the approaching figure over, a chuckle burning in his throat. He was the daemon that had been fooled by the smith..turned into a gore-thirsting machine of tempestuous . A canine smirk donned his foul mouth as the summoned one came to a stop some many feet from his throne, and much to his delight, knelt with the squeal of grinding alloys.
"I am Tor'Del'Nach, abiding servant of those who summon me - I am the loyal hand that delivers a swift ." there was a certain finesse in his tone of voice - a sculpted monotony that showed little to no resonation of emotion. Standing, he had proven to be roughly 6 foot in height and possessed no extremity of muscle nor weight - yet a trail of embedded claw marks garishly marring the floor behind him, their tri-indentations bubbling and seeping with the magma of the burst earth. But now he knelt, as the servant he was, his head bown respectfully while being encompassed by the lengthy tendrils of his dark hair hair, seemingly blended with an oozing slime that gave it a certain moisture-riddled glisten in the hazy torch light of the Greater Daemon's chamber. His face, however hidden, held little story to show - void of expression, as the case had been for many a century now, whenst the foolery of the armor had entranced him. Now slowly he rose, to what most greater daemons would attribute to insubordination, but Fal'Umn did not bother to throttle him for such a move - while similarly the Lesser Daemon was well aware of this circumstance, and continued to stand.
"Tor'Del'Nach..I have heard much of your services. Though you pale in comparison to I, your worthiness as a subject of the underworld proves you well. This is why I summon you now - There is something of great importance that I require.." He grunted, leaning forward in his throne, propping a spiny elbow, so that he could see more of the small figure at his feet. Tor resumed his fruitless appearance, apparently unphased by the sheer immensity that was presented before him. "And you would wish I slay the owner of such an item of importance..?" He questioned as though he had determined the meaning of his summoning already, yet it puzzled him that such a greater fury would require the of a lone source. "You may, if you wish, destroy the owners of these items..that is entirely of your own choice; But what I request you do is obtain all the items and return them to me." Fal'Umn knew well of the daemon's obediance, and felt renewed with some faith that this task would be carried out with utmost perfection. "I do not know the location of these pieces exactly, for my messengers are...incapable, but I have knowledge as to their general where abouts.." A throaty 'hrm' emitted from the greater daemon as he settled back into his throne, flexing his talons atop a mountain of charred betrayers.
Tor'Del'Nach knew the system well enough to understand now why the greater daemon had summoned him. He had not been created during the Days of a Thousand Faces, but was well aware of the complications that now rose because of it - the inability to leave one's power safely. His smokey eyes swirled with an inner fog as he listened intently, taking in every such drop of information while it was produced. "That is understood - I shall claim these segments. You are aware of what is required of my payment?" Most daemons alone, let alone the heirarchy, would have smote any for asking such a fiery question, as though promptly undermining the authoritarian. In this instance however, Fal'Umn admired the desolute courage, no matter how unintentional it was. "I am well aware of your payment, Collector..You shall have your fill of souls..And do this task appropriately, so that it pleases me, then you shall be spared when a new rule is introduced to this realm. Now go, do not show your face again within my throne room, lest you have completed the task and will present me with the shards. Fail me, and your innards shall paint the walls of this chamber" A spout of steam spiralled upwards from between the greater daemon's fangs, zesting the air with a foul stench.
Tor let a nod surpass him - his task had been given. He was bound to the servitude of the heirarchy now. His three-steely-clawed hands clenchd into metallic fists, then flexed outwardly. His silence consuming him, he prestigiously turned about on heel, and made his march from the hellion hall,
--
Tor let a nod surpass him - his task had been given. He was bound to the servitude of the heirarchy now. His three-steely-clawed hands clenchd into metallic fists, then flexed outwardly. His silence consuming him, he prestigiously turned about on heel, and made his march from the hellion hall, accompanied by the distant laughter of his summoner.
~ Devoted Guardian 
"I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet
when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."
Locked beneath these silvery depths of eternity,
into the maze I beckon you... dream with me.
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