Post by Ian on Jun 18, 2020 16:29:54 GMT
[CONTENT WARNING: Hanging]
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The scene might almost be called idyllic: a blood-red sunset at the horizon bathes the harsh, yet beautiful landscape of Avernus into a warm, red glow; A gentle breeze, tugging at the branches of the Hanged Man’s Tree, bodies dangling lazily on their ropes; and the frantic kicking of the chain devil, currently being strangled with his own chains, is slowing down, accepting the inevitable finality. Ash falls silently, like black snow.
“Serenity”, Bal’taz’narr intones with his sombre sing-song voice. He drinks in the scene greedily, indulging in the sensual delight of a day well spent, a foe well ended. The devil stops kicking.
His warband of demons gather around him. They have slaughtered the lemures on the shore of the river Styx they sailed up on, connecting the Abyss to the Nine Hells. The patrol of devils that was alerted by the riverside watchtowers proved no match for the demons’ ferocity. Some of them have decorated their hides with their enemies' entrails, or painted their maws with devil blood, knowing their chief approves of such displays of artistry.
He scans the horizon. There, up-river, the familiar outline of the Stygian Docks rising from the lapping waters marks their target. A daring raid into the realm of Zariel the Filthy, angel-spawn! He shudders and spits, the rising bile and hatred turning the blue of his scales to an angry red. The memory of her cultists stealing his favorite succubus concubine from right under him opens the valves to the bottomless reservoir of his hatred, and he lets loose a mighty roar, screaming his malice to the sky. His brethren join him, their war screams a choir of violence promised.
As Bal’taz’narr refocuses, he can see blocks of Merregon soldiers approaching in well ordered ranks, cruel halberds piercing upward, like a forest of barbed steel. The demon lord rises to his full height, towering over his warband.
