o/`~And Hooves of Iron Shall Rend the Ungodly~o/`

[DoS Archive]

From: leviraine@aol.com (Levi Raine)
Date: 30 Apr 1998 11:14:10 EDT


A small man nervously waited at the gates if RhyDin town, his hair was unkempt, and his personal odeure' de fleur was enough to make a rotten cabbage keel over and go into a coma for an undetermined amount of days. His nails were dirty and fairly gnawed off and the mans hands shook as if he had just come off a 4 year tour de force of all the water front dives that littered the docks in numbers to be compared to the rats that inhabited the
undersides of those self same moorings.
The morning sun was beginning to peek over the mountains to the east, and a crisp wind was blowing through the open gates of RhyDin town, cooling the streets and making those downwind of the small, nervous man, wish they had business on the other side of town. One such peasant going as far to berate the man, and while the small man cowered, the peasant leaned over and picked up a piece of fairly fresh dung and pelted him with horse manure,
which, while possibly making his point somewhat clearer to the small, nervous man, did little to resolve the stench.
But the small man was resolute, he knew what was coming, and stood his guard at the gate. The peasant, being as most men of limited brains, struck the small, smelly, ill kempt man once, and then, recieving no retaliation, and noting the other still steadfastly refusing to leave, suddenly decided to find a place to wash his hands, and, mayhaps, burn his clothes.
Still the little man waited, his name was Urgen, his last name was unknown, and after his personal hygenic habits became publically known, the gossip mongers and rumor queens of the town lost interest in his last name. He had recently moved to RhyDin Town from parts unknown, financing his way into town as a vagabond storyteller, but usually only employed in the more seedy establishments in town, and usually required to at least throw
himself in the bay once before entering, to replace his own odor with the more palatable stench of stagnate sea water and dead or near dying fish.
But as a storyteller, he was uncanny, painting scenes of unbelieveable magic and heroism before his usually rapt audiences, drawing his patrons in, almost hypnotically during his tales, to the point that most would swear that they had been there as he told the stories, fighting dragons with Melkior the DragonSlayer....or delving into deep, dark magics with Morcanthus the Damned, fighting demons and hell spawn with their very own hands
beside Gaeryl the Great. Most were truly astonished by Urgens ability to weave a tale, and he kept himself fed,...and drunk, most of the time from the generous offerings of his patrons, which more than made up for the meager wages the skinflint tavern keepers paid him.
His eyes held a feverish cast to them as the day grew brighter, his face taking an almost sickly pallor in the sunlight, none noticed the slight ripple underneath the skin of his face, it moving from his neck up, across his cheeks and then into the hairline where it was lost from view, the man called Urgen leaned against the wall for a moment, seeming, if anyone was looking, to be resting for a moment, then, as he looked down, his eyes
flashed with a crimson sheen for merely a second, and then the sickly look was gone, and once again, Urgen concentrated on the road in front of the city gates.
And he waited.
The sun was much higher in the midday sky when Urgen was beginning to feel as if what he was waiting for was not to arrive, his shaking had increased, and if anything, he may have seemed, to those brave enough to get close enough to him, to be even more nervous, and even more fetid than usual.
Urgen growled a small, impotent growl, then suddenly, he felt a had on his shoulder. Nearly jumping out of his skin, for more reasons than one, he turned and beheld the face of the man that touched him.
The man was tall and lean, with dark, dark black hair that tumbled down over his shoulders and back, and down over his right eye and cheek in a long, luxurious wave of darkness, his eyes, a piercing light blue that nearly screamed with a fey, unspoken power. He was dressed in a deep black velvet cloak, covering him completely to where the tips of the snakeskin boots poked out from under the cloak, in the mans right hand was a massive
scepter/staff, capped with a massive steel ball, neatly carved into the face of that ball was the glyph of the mans master, who Urgen knew to be the Lord of Hell.
" Sa'kaihl, var shah'tv Baath. " Urgen near stuttered, in the language of demons, his eyes flashing crimson again momentarily, as he greeted his most infernal guest.
" And greetings to you, Urgen, " The man said, his voice soft and a deep baritone, speaking in an accentless common and slowly turning the man by his shoulder into the alleyway just beyond the gate, walking beside him with his hand on his shoulder in an almost friendly way. " I see you've...pardon the expression...gone to hell again."
" Its not my fault. " Urgen stuttered. " I did my part of the deal, the relic is buried here, RhyDin Town is open to you now......no mage or cleric can expell you nor command you."
The tall man grinned a dark, self satisfied grin, then stopped walking, turning Urgen towards him and regarding the smaller man with those soul searing eyes.
" You have buried the Lumini here then? "
Urgen nodded emphatically, his shaking increasing.
" Yes Lord Baath, I swear it! "
" Use not that name Urgen, I am Levi, " The tall man grinned darkly and laughed a semi malefic laugh, then let his face settle into benevolent smile. "The Honorable Reverend Levi Gideon Raine, come to bring peace to the wayward and forgiveness to the sinners of this wicked place. "
Urgen shivered inwardly, the part of him that was still human screaming somewhere deep in the hole it was locked in by the symbiont demon that controlled him.
" Your tasks are done Urgen, " Levi said, idly brushing a stray leaf that had landed on his cloak off to the cobblestones of the alley. " And done well I might add, where is the location of the Lumini? "
" W-W-Where n-n-no one w-w-will ever t-t-think to l-look m'lord. " Urgen said, his shaking reaching a fever pitch as he tried to get his stammering under control . " I buried it in the catacombs under the temple. No one would ever think to look there, and has been an age since you and your minions have walked this plane, no one would know what to look for. "
Levi nodded, again seeming distracted while he listened.
" You have done well Urgen, and should be rewarded, you are, I understand, the last of Morcanthus the Damned's students are you not?"
Another warning bell pealed through what was left of Urgens mind, but he had no control, the symbiont that had kept him alive all these centuries as Baath and the Lord of Hell made their plans, and set what was needed for the return to the mortal plane into motion held his will in an iron grip, there was little Urgen could do but nod the affirmative.
" Morcanthus made his mistake, when he thought to master hell with his puny powers, and you will find...that those that stood with him...are damned also. "
Then, with a negligent wave of the scepter, Levi incinerated Urgens mortal body to ash in less than a second, his awareness hearing the long, desperate scream as Urgen's soul made its way to hell, to join his teacher, and his fellow students, in the terror and pain of eternity in hell.
The pile of ash moved slightly, a small, indistinct mass of vile jelly shivering its way out of the pile and slowly stretching itself away from the ash pile until it stopped.
Levi looked down, nose wrinkling as he beheld the lowest minion of hell, a human soul, tortured and terrified into slavery as a symbiont demon. He regarded the creature for a moment, then spat upon it, his spit hissing and burning into the protoplasm of the slave creatures form as it writhed under the pain.
" Go..." Levi said, waving a hand at the thing. " Find another, I will need eyes and strong arms. "
The symbiont obeyed immediately, quickly sluicing down into the cracks of the cobblestones and making its way further into town, seeking a suitable host body.
Levi then turned, as the ashes of the burned Urgen were swirled by a slight gust of wind and scattered about the alley. He then stepped out into the streets of RhyDin town, a friendly smile on his face lighting up the people around him as he stopped and made small, quick conversations with the people in the street, stopping and healing a lame beggar along his way to the amazement of the bystanders.
And as he made his way down the street, the word started to spread.

((TBC))