Part I: The Search for Dagaal
Chapter 1.8: What’s the Plan
It’s great to have goals, right? Mine was to make myself into THE God of the Universe. It was a ‘stretch’ goal, I know, but hey, shoot for the stars, right? Even still, I didn’t fool myself – I wasn’t displacing A’H or Ze anytime soon. Heck, even Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael were all more powerful than me. In short, I had a lot of work to do to get where I wanted to go. But you have to start somewhere, right?
For my scientific mind, I knew that my projects were the key to achieving my goals – my experiments with harvesting souls, influencing humanity, creating new races, and the like were sure to unlock the mysteries of the universe if I just kept at them. Unfortunately, I couldn’t concentrate on my work like I needed to because of Baal-Zebub’s threats concerning Dagaal – the dreaded magical dagger made from my own rib that was designed to take me out!
“Damn BZ, for doing this to me!” I cursed, shuddering in spite of myself at the thought that Dagaal might really be somewhere here on the middle plane — lying in wait in the possession of an unknown assassin lurking in the shadows waiting for an opportunity to strike me down.
Ideally, I could have immediately entered The Necronomicon and figured out who had the blade. For the Necronicom was that special room in my palace where I conducted death communals to interrogate the dead and extract information from them. Sometimes it was easy to get the souls of the dead to talk, sometimes it required me to get creative with them (and that was the fun part).
So why didn’t I use the Necronomicon now? The problem was that if the dead I communed with had never seen Dagaal, it would be a waste of time, and since I didn’t know where to look for Dagaal, and since it was unlikely Dagaal had been handled by anyone who had died recently, all signs pointed to using the Necronomicon right now resulting in a dead end. (literally)
That meant I had no choice but to swallow my pride and contact my colleague Samyaza — the self-styled ‘god of war’ who, like the rest of us immortals, had acquired more names over the centuries than I could count. Samyaza’s minions called him ‘Gwar’ and since that was easier to say than his I called him Gwar as well.
“Ah, if only there was another way?” I pondered as sat one evening in my private library – finding solace in that sanctum of forbidden knowledge and lost wisdom – its shelves groaning under the weight of millennia of arcane texts and esoteric artifacts. “Perhaps I can have one of my creations look for it instead of asking Gwar about it directly?”
Even as I said it, I knew there was wisdom in my words – for clearly, I couldn’t just come out and ask Gwar if he knew where Dagaal was – even if he did, he’d never tell me. Hell, Gwar didn’t even like me – and the feeling was mutual.
Yes it’s true – Gwar/Samyaza could trace his history back in time as far as me. He was a lumenarc in Illyria. He joined Lucifer’s rebellion and he fought in the Eternal Wars. He too was cast out of the heavens by Michael the Mighty and locked beneath the Firmament with the rest of us ‘fallen’ angels. He’d lived in Illusia with Baal-Zebub for eons, but recently he’d accepted our master’s command to return to Terra and wreck havoc on earth – and he loved every minute of it.
For Samyaza salivated at the thought of all things war, destruction, and hate and [as you well know] your world is full of opportunity for someone like that. So much fun did he have at inciting violence that took a page out of Lucifer’s bool and came up with a new cognomen for himself – taking on the name “Gwar” and proclaiming that he was the “God of War”.
Since he was a fellow godling of Illusia you’d think we’d be allies, sharing the same mission – yet you’d be wrong. Oh sure, on the surface, we pretended to serve our master with the same passion, but in fact, we hated each other – with a passion.
“The God of War…” I let my mind wander, searching for a plan. “That’s it! I shall use Gwar at what he is good at – inspiring the mortals to kill each other and causing that chaos to spread around the world. I can use that diversion to serve my purposes.”
The plan I came up with was simple — on the one hand, I figured that the more creatures that perished in Gwar’s wars, the more bones I’d have available for use at The Necronomicon — hoping that one of them might eventually know something about Dagaal. On the other hand, to hedge my bets, I decided to send out hosts of my own servants to covertly search for knowledge of The Bone Dagger as well. Either way, I knew I’d find Dagaal — if it really was here on your world.
“Step one – contact Gwar.” I grimaced even as I said it. “Ach, can I sink any lower than this? I, Azazel, master of manipulation and chaos, reduced to this. Seeking help from a fellow immortal whose loyalty is as fickle as the wind.”
I paused, gazing into the dancing flames of the fireplace nearby, seeing not the fire but the reflection of my own ambitions. Then, clenching a bony fist, I raised my hand towards the firelight, “This is but a single step, a necessary evil in my grand design. The path to godhood is fraught with such indignities, but I will endure.”
Reaching for the chalice of blood on the table at my side, I took a long draught, the bitter taste helping to ground him. “Lucifer, Zebub, A’H, and all the gods have plans of their own. But I am Azazel. My will is iron, my resolve unbreakable. I will ascend, I will conquer. The universe itself will bow to me.”
As I looked back towards the fire, I allowed a grim smile peek out on the bare bones of the ghastly skull that was my visage. “To the future,” I whispered, raising my goblet. “A future forged by my hand, in fire and blood. May it be mine to shape.”
Now about that Gwar fellow…
The Apocrypha of Azazel 