Book I: The Search for Dagaal
Chapter 5: Creatures of the Deep
Eventually, I awoke from my slumber. Still frightened, but without those tormented visions confronting me, I arose and slowly pulled my mind together. I stood up and surveyed the familiar surroundings of my home. The cavern was vast, its ceiling lost in shadows, its location far in the depths of the volcano. Stalactites hung like the fangs of a great beast, and the air was thick with the scent of sulfur and decay. Pools of molten rock glowed dimly, casting eerie reflections on the cavern walls.
This place, Nektar’s Cauldron, was the sanctuary of my design but also my self-made prison.
In the distance, I heard the faint sound of movement. My servants, surely sensing my return, were beginning to stir. Soon, they would come to me, eager to serve, eager to avoid my wrath. But for now, I relished the silence, the brief moment of solitude.
I needed a plan. I needed to find a way to break free from Lucifer’s grasp, to gather enough power to stand on my own. The Bone Dagger, Dagaal, haunted my thoughts. Its very existence was a threat to me, a reminder of my vulnerability. I had to find it, to destroy it, or to wield it for my own purposes.
As I pondered my next move, a flicker of hope ignited within me. I was Death, the Black Harvester, the Plague Bearer. I had faced countless challenges and emerged victorious. This would be no different.
With renewed determination, I rose to my feet and began to formulate my plan. The path ahead would be fraught with danger, but I would not be deterred. I would seek out the Bone Dagger, gather my strength, and take my rightful place as a god unbound.
For now, though, I had to rest, to gather my thoughts and prepare for the trials to come. The darkness of Nektar’s Cauldron closed in around me, a comforting shroud that promised both danger and opportunity. And as I closed my eyes, I whispered a silent vow to myself: “I will not be a pawn any longer. I will rise, and all who stand in my way will know the true meaning of fear.”
My mind started playing through possibilities about who might have Dagaal. Given that my colleague Samyaza was the last lumenarc to visit Illusia before me, I wondered. “That brute either has Dagaal or knows where the dagger is, but if BZ told him to keep a secret that was a mistake. That muscle-bound giant is a mental midget compared to me, and once I’m through with him, we’ll see who has the last laugh!”
I continued thinking as I walked away from The Doorway of Destiny and into the interior of the mountain’s core. Along the way, I found that my energy, and yes even my esprit de corps, was returning. Despite my recent nightmares, I realized that my little slumber had rejuvenated me – taking a cat nap for an entire year tends to do that for me sometimes. Feeling refreshed, my gait transformed from that of a weary zombie into one befitting the energetic tyrant that I was.
Soon I emerged from the unmarked tunnel that led from The Stairway of Infinity. Walking on, I began to encounter some of the abominations that still lurked in these deepest depths – repugnant creatures that I had created — species of arcane depravity that represented the many “unsuccessful” attempts I had made as a diabolical genomist trying to breed new races that might destroy A’H’s plans. Although I had disposed of these wastes by exiling them to these forsaken locales, somehow, against the odds, many of them still clung to the threads of impossible life and thus continued to reside within the caverns.
The first to greet me was a Flesh Hulk, its massive, lumbering form almost blocking the narrow passage. Its skin hung in loose, wrinkled folds, and its tiny, sunken eyes gleamed with a dim recognition. Despite its grotesque appearance, I felt a pang of pride. “Ah, my hulking friend,” I murmured, patting one of its many limbs. “Still guarding these depths, I see.” The behemoth responded with a guttural, rumbling noise, a sound that was both a greeting and a warning.
Further along, the clattering sound of Bone Serpents echoed through the cavern. Their skeletal forms slithered gracefully, their exposed bones scraping against the rocky ground. These were among my earliest experiments, and though they had failed to achieve their intended purpose, they had become a formidable presence in these depths. “Still writhing in the shadows, are we?” I said with a smirk, watching their eyeless skulls turn towards me. Their needle-like teeth chattered in what I liked to imagine was a form of homage.
Pools of molten rock glowed dimly around the Acid Slimes, their gelatinous bodies oozing slowly along the ground.
The acidic trail they left behind sizzled, emitting a noxious steam. “Ah, my little alchemists,” I chuckled, bending down to observe the suspended remains of their latest meals within their translucent forms. “Still dissolving anything in your path. Excellent.”
Later on I saw a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye – it revealed the presence of Shadow Stalkers. These creatures, made of living darkness, blended seamlessly with the shadows of the cavern. Only their glowing red eyes betrayed their presence. They moved with an eerie silence, their long claws gleaming in the dim light. “Ever the silent hunters,” I whispered, feeling a twisted sense of kinship. “Lurking in the shadows, waiting for the unsuspecting.”
Making my way ever upward, eventually I saw Ironclad Beetles scuttling across the cavern walls, their jagged exoskeletons clinking like metal against stone. Their powerful mandibles clicked rhythmically, a sound that had once filled me with frustration but now brought a smile to my lips. “Ah, my industrious little pests,” I said, reaching out to touch the smooth, metallic plates. “Still as indomitable as ever.”
As I continued my ascent, I began to take in the foul stench of the Plague Hounds. Their twisted, canine forms soon emerged from the darkness, multiple heads snarling and snapping as they came to greet me. The hounds eyes glowed a sickly yellow, and their venomous saliva dripped onto the ground. “My loyal guardians,” I crooned, extending a hand towards them all as they surrounded me. “Still spreading disease and decay. Good, very good.”
At last I knew I was getting close to the surface when I heard the screeching cries of Harpy Maws echoing through the caverns.
Their winged forms swooped down from the stone ceiling, their talons scraping the rocky walls. Their faces, twisted in agony, were a reminder of my relentless pursuit of perfection. “Ah, my tragic songbirds,” I said, watching them circle in the passageway. “Still screaming your haunting lullabies.”
Each abomination I encountered along the way filled me with a perverse sense of accomplishment. Though they were failures in my grand schemes, they had become my pets, my twisted family. As I walked among them, their grotesque forms providing a macabre welcome, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. These creatures were a testament to my power, my ability to create and destroy. And with their presence, I knew that Nektar’s Cauldron would remain impenetrable to any who dared venture into its depths.
With each step, I felt my resolve hardening. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but I was not alone. My creations, my monstrous pets, inspired me with hope. As I neared the end of the cavern, my throne room that was The Gallery of Unholy Death beckoned me forward.
I couldn’t wait to get there for I knew that’s when the fun would begin!
The Apocrypha of Azazel 