Part 1: The Search for Dagaal
Chapter 1: The Stairway of Infinity
Seek Ye The Light! Escape these torments in The Light!
These were the sole thoughts driving me inexorably onward through the oppressive darkness and up the maddening ascent of The Stairway of Infinity.
Daemons clutched at my robes, their icy grips pulling me toward the abyss. Spectral lights flashed from distant vistas, disorienting my every step. Unseen caterwauls pummeled my senses, reverberating through my very bones. Despite these terrors, I clung to my one saving thought…
Seek Ye The Light! Escape these torments in The Light!
A mere 1,001 days ago, The Light had appeared as nothing more than a speck—a pinprick in the black velvet sky blanketing this forsaken passageway. Even then, I knew that striving towards that illusory star was my only hope. For I could not return to that from which I came!
The Stairway of Infinity was no ordinary path. Carved into the very fabric of the cosmos, it stretched endlessly, winding through the realms between worlds. Each step a laborious climb over jagged rocks, slick with the ichor of forgotten souls. The air thick with the stench of sulfur and decay, a nauseating miasma that clung to my robes and stifled every breath.
Spectral lights from far-off vistas flickered and danced, casting eerie shadows that played tricks on the mind. The distant echoes of mournful wails and sinister whispers created a cacophony that threatened to drive one to madness. The stairway twists and turns, with countless offshoots and dead ends, each more treacherous than the last, made navigation nearly impossible.
Evil’s sound and fury tormented me, but I never stopped. I pressed onward—through jagged rock walls lining the bowels of the flat earth, past the molten core spewing fiery regurgitations, and upward through the limitless expanse of chaos itself. Higher and higher, until The Light became vibrant and alive, illuminating the dark portal—The Doorway of Destiny—my escape!
At last, I reached the summit where The Light’s blinding brilliance illuminated the outline of a dark portal—The Doorway of Destiny. This ancient gateway, shrouded in myth and legend, was said to be the boundary between worlds, the final barrier to freedom. The door itself was a massive boulder, seemingly insurmountable, its surface etched with runes of power and wards against the dark.
With the world melting around me, I lifted my tattered black robes and took the final step, breathing a sigh of relief.
For even a god can be terrified.
[Do you think less of me for admitting this? It’s fine. I’m not ashamed of fear, but I’ll be interested to see how you handle it when I come calling.]
I paused only for a moment, for though I was a powerful immortal, even I couldn’t hold out long against the nightmares of the underworld. Without further hesitation, I pushed against The Doorway of Destiny, using all of my strength to move the massive boulder that blocked the portal between The Planes.
But the giant stone resisted—trying to keep me locked below!
Desperately I pressed forward—slowly, agonizingly, purposefully grinding the door open, my every effort bringing forth more Light into The Stairway’s dark world.
Still, the stones resisted.
Yet I would not be denied. Harder I pushed, then harder still—to the point that my own bones were on the brink of exploding. And then, all at once…
Light ripped The Darkness—I rushed into it, and escaped!
Now on the other side of The Doorway of Destiny, I had emerged into a cavern that was itself located in the deepest depths of the volcanic mountain I called Nektar’s Cauldron – my home.
This passageway was so rank from ages of defilement that it is doubtful anyone else would have considered themselves as having actually “escaped.” The air was thick with the acrid stench of sulfur and brimstone, and the walls oozed with a dark, viscous fluid. Yet I overlooked the shortcomings of my situation and instead rejoiced in the fact that I had finally re-emerged into my own abode. And more importantly, that I had escaped the torment of my master—for at least another millennia.
Or so I thought.
Of a sudden, the ethereal claw of a phantasm reached through The Doorway and clutched at my robes—trying to pull me back into The Stairway!
Yet it was to no effect—for now that I was back in my own domain, I, Death, held dominion again. Overlooking the distraction, I merely commanded The Doorway, “Be closed!” At once the portal slammed shut—closing off The Stairway and all its horrors.
And that, as they say, was that.
You might think I’d be happy with this little victory, but you’d be wrong.
First off, the Silence was unbearable. The air around me was ominously quiet—waiting in anticipation—and this wasn’t just because my servants were still as yet unaware of my return, nor because the malefic cacophony of The Stairway had been shut out. Instead, it was primarily due to the fact that, despite being a powerful god, at the moment I was feeling quite empty and alone.
To be sure, I knew that my creatures would soon be bustling back to life, as all would be eager to satisfy me—lest they risk raising my ire against them. And yes, I’ll admit that after having my hellfire replenished by The Dark Lord, I could now once again survive here in your world for another thousand years or so.
But those positives just didn’t compare to being forcibly robbed of the souls which I had for so long been hoarding. For Baal-Zebub’s treachery had again left me feeling like nothing short of a withered skeleton, with naught inside but the slowly decaying sustenance provided by my master, and covered only by my tattered black robes. [Yes, my attire back then was a bit cliché—but remember, I started the cliché!]
All of which did nothing to fill the painfully empty hollowness of my ever-hungry soul.
Yet it was always the same whenever I returned from Illusia—I was left with only the whispers of my own mind to remind me of what The Evil One had taken.
And it was this very silence that was unusual—unusual at all times except these queer homecomings. For upon all other occasions whenever I walked your world, the air around me was never quiet.
For though you might know me as the Bone Collector, the Plague Bearer, or the Death Reaper, or whether you name me The Shaitan, Shedu Mazai, or any of the other monikers that your kind has given me throughout the ages, above all else, I, Nektar, (Truename Azazel) was (and still am) The Black Harvester—for I am a soul hoarder.
Quietly then, I paused to remember—looking back to the sweetness of how full my own soul had once felt—just before I’d been forced to return to Illusia this past time.
I reminisced back to when last I walked within my Cauldron—recalling my sweet power and basking in a mellifluous vision of myself over a century ago—ahhh….
Sometimes muttering below my breath, often screaming in agony, ever threatening to kill any and all within my reach, as The God of Death, I was forever conversing with myself; my voice the voices of countless souls trapped within my godly aura; male and female, adult and child, all were within me; my victims speaking in hundreds of languages, from every race and people upon Terra, all undead—trapped at the very verge of non-existence—all struggling to be heard, all trying to break free to their eternal rests, yet all prisoners of my abysmal soul.
But in spite of the multitude of speakers and tongues quiescing from my lips, there was one main voce that silenced the rest whenever it was uttered—for Death held dominion over all in this world and when MY voice spoke it silenced all the rest. Like a whisper that wove its way through the rustle of thousands of dead leaves that ceaselessly swirled around a barren landscape, my voice was a sound on the very edge of hearing, yet ever did it command to be listened to…
Ah, such sweet memories.
Yet sadly, all too quickly, did the ambrosia of my dream pass.
Instead, I was left with this day’s stark reality—for now, I no longer had any souls within me, save my own—and that was never enough.
With my stockpile of souls gone, I felt desperate and famished.
I raged at the feeling of emptiness!
I wretched because of my desperate hunger!
And finally, pitifully, I shrank down. Feeling hopelessness overtake me, I leaned against the jagged wall in utter despair, willing to fade into non-existence if it would but come for me…
The Apocrypha of Azazel 