| Souls of the Wicked; Hell's Transformation Quest | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 17 2013, 04:16 PM (70 Views) | |
| Detective Wesson | Nov 17 2013, 04:16 PM Post #1 |
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If revenge was a dish best served cold, Shaitan’s would be served frozen. The decent into hell had taken days, only to exit in a sub-zero tundra. His passions chilled, the djinn wished for warmer clothing. This was a wish that could not be granted. While Shaitan’s lamp had been a kind of personal prison, this frozen wasteland served as an impersonal cage. The permafrost encrusted earth crunched underfoot, as the Djinn was lightly dusted with a flurry of snow. If this was hell, it sure had changed in all the years since Shaitan’s last visit. Shaitan recalled the conflict between the Demi-Planes. Hell had always been satisfied with its cosmic birthright; the encapsulating and rehabilitation of souls had been its charge since the beginning. The City of Brass had not been so lucky. A rich pocket realm of great mineral wealth, The Plane of Fire had not ben delegated any special duty. What the city of Brass had, it had taken, and Shaitan was one of its key enforcers. The Djinn are incapable of granting wishes to themselves or other Djinns. Only a Mortal may be granted this favor. Perhaps it was jealousy of this fact that lead to the Efreeti’s subjugation and importation of so many slaves. It was not always a matter of simple trade though. At times, the City of Brass was forced to steal from its neighbors. Hell always had a plentiful supply of souls. 2000 years prior, deep in the plane of hell, Shaitan had lead a cadre of troops to the Soul Well, an Ancient artifact that was said to keep those in hell imprisoned, not through mundane bars, but through the power of their own souls. Had Yema been aware of their intrusion, Shaitan and his group would have already been dead. Luckily the twisted nature of the seams linking the planes allowed the Djinn to enter unnoticed. A circle of Efreeti Magi encircled the fountain, readying a spell. “Collect the souls” His orders were but a whisper. Shaitan looked on uneasily. The Sultan had demanded a fresh tithe of souls to power an army of golems. Hell had recently spurned the City of Brass in a trading deal, and the Sultan demanded vengeance in a tangible form: Souls directly from the underworld. A small group of 20 had been assigned to Shaitan. It was no happenstance that the group was so small. If Shaitan and his group were defeated or caught, The Sultan would disavow any connection to them. It was succeeded or die. The Djinn Magi’s chants intensified, and the ground around the fountain began to shake. Soul clouds danced madly within the confines of the artifact, whistling and humming. From the fountain rose a gigantic clay golem, the size of a small tower. It’s voice rang out over the landscape, shaking the Intruders’ bones. “You seek to destroy Hell’s cage. What say you?” Though Shaitan stood up straight to this disturbance, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. This beast of a creature could stomp the life out of his squadron in one swat. “We seek to bleed the fountain of excess energy!” Shaitan boasted. “Why, if we don’t do this, you may burst from the energy you contain!” The Golem scratched its head. Several boulder sized debris broke off, careening off the side of its head and onto 2 Efreeti who had been frozen with fear. Their blood spray and souls now mingled with the fountains’. “I do not require maintenance at this moment” The golem buzzed. “If you are from the golden bureaucracy, I require your job order forms, signed in triplicate” The Colossus extended and Shaitain sized hand downwards, palm outstretched and waiting. Shaitan eye’d his men, motioning to run on his signal. “Oh yes, of course, we can furnish those right away. Men, could you go grab my forms for me? I’ll keep our host company!” Shaitan’s company nervously began to back away from the fountain. The Golem did not react poorly. Not untilone troop stepped out of sight. The Golems extended hand scooped into the earth, pressed a ball of soil into a boulder. This was hurled into the distance, crushing the unfortunate Djinn that moved a small bit faster than his squad mates. “Retreat!” Screamed Shaitan. Unfurling his magic carpet, the Djinn Commander soared away from the golem’s reach. His men were not as fortunate. Clumps or hard clay smashed them one by one. Shaitan made it back, with no glory, and no souls. It took hundreds of years for him to reclaim his honor after the loss he had taken as the Soul Foutain. Biting cold snapped Shaitan back to reality. He was not in hell because of a formal royal edict this time. He was here due to his own foolishness, and under his own steam. The hell of today seemed to have frozen over though. Not a single landmark was familiar. Hours and Days raced by as Shaitan traveled the wastes. A column of smoke that appeared on the 3rd day gave him hope. Was there another here? It was another day before he reached the source of the smoke. At the fire sat a small, blue creature, dressed in a regal collar and shirt embroidered with foreign lettering. “Ack!” It shouted, holding a small loaf of bread to itself. “Who are you? What are you doing here? This is my fire, my food, and my spot!” The blue thing eye’d Shaitan, backing behind the fire as if for protection. Shaitan was happy for the company, inhospitable as it was. Shaitan sat by the fire and held up his hands in truce. “I mean you no harm creature. It has been many years since I have been here, and I merely seek some company and warmth. I do not require your food.” The Imp did not lower his guard. “I have powerful friends you know! I’m only here temporarily. My heirs will gather the dragon balls and wish me out of this pit!” Dragon balls? Wish? Only the Efreet were capable of wish granting, and only in reality could only create minor miracles. Restoring life to those who had expired was well past their power. “Creature. My name is Shaitan. I offer you my protection while I walk this realm in return for a favor. I wish to know of these Dragon Balls, and what has happened to hell in my absence from Otherworld.” The Blue thing lifted its head, revealing a smirk. “You wish to serve the great Emperor Pilaf, True heir to the Imp royal line I?!” He voice raised to a shrill pitch that stung Shaitan’s ears. “What qualifies you for this?” Shaitan leaned back. The years of solitude had made this ‘Imp’ insane. Hopefully an appeal to its massive ego could be made. “Me? I once served the Sultan in the City of Brass. I had hundreds under my control. I know a thing or two about servitude and loyalty, my lord.” He also knew a thing or two about betrayal. About hungering for the power of his superiors. But this Imp had no power. Just something simple Shaitan wanted. Information. Information that could help him destroy the realm of his former benefactors. The imp sat down, and nibbled his bread. “I could use a man like you Shaitan. What happened to Hell? Hell is still the same. I have been driven down here to the colder under layers by my ungrateful servants! They wish to be reincarnated, to give up their lives of servitude in exchange for a chance to come back as inferior beings.” Pilaf winced. Though his voice was filled with anger, he was hurting. “I gave them everything a lord could give his subjects Shaitan, through all their bumbling and incompetence, and they betray me! They sit in Hell above, participating in the Ogres’ sick reformation camps!” Shaitan nodded. The Imp hadn't disheveled the information he needed, but for now, he would provide a listening ear. The Imp was close to cracking. “Years, Shaitan, Years we spent hunting the Dragons Balls; 7 infernal orbs that summon a wish granting Dragon. Anything within it’s great power it can grant you. This power was snatched from me by a pig! He wished for the world’s most comfortable pair of Panties!” Shaitan leaned back. Was this creature insane? Did anything lend credence to his tale? “Where were these Dragon Balls? From where did they hail?” “Earth you fool! The Namekian guardian of earth constructed them! I’ve heard there’s a set on Namek too! More powerful!” Pilaf rose to his feed, beckoning Shaitan to follow “Now I have paid you your tithe. Now you will assist me. Guard me on our way up to the warmer expanses of hell. We have 2 disgruntled employees to show the meaning of pain!” Shaitan followed. This information was valuable, albeit somewhat unreliable. He examined the Imps movements as they marched through the wastes. He moved with confidence, with the stride of a true leader, incompetent or no. This being believed his own story, Shaitan was sure of that. It did not matter for now. Shaitan had neither a way back to the mortal plane nor a way back to his native home. For now he would follow, if only to learn more of what had become of hell. Another day passed before they reached clay foothills, standing in stark contrast to the frozen wastes that lay behind them. “Here we are servant. I grow tired. You will carry me now” Shaitan recognized this expanse. This was the very same section of hell that contained the soul forge. He unfurled the carpet that had carried him out of the Saiyan mud hut, placed Pilaf on it, and took flight. A speck in the distance confirmed his suspicion. The Soul Fountain. It sat, brighter than ever, swirling with souls. Shaitan still remembered the power it held. He landed cautiously, much to Pilaf’s protestation. “Servant, we do not get close to this, It is well guarded!” “My Lord, I have unfinished business here. ” Like all those centuries before, The mighty golem rose from the Well “You seek to destroy Hell’s cage. What say you?” it creaked. Age had not been kind to this behemoth. And the excess of souls war had brought into hell poured from its many cracks. “This time I will have my prize Golem!” Shaitan unleashed a flurry of ki blasts, each entering a different crack on the Golem. Had a more powerful soul died this very day, the golem may have imploded on its own. This salvo, however, was enough to do the job. Pilaf and Shaitan were sprayed with blood as the Golem came crumbling down. “My lord. We shall bathe in the power that hell would never allow us!” Edited by Detective Wesson, Nov 17 2013, 04:25 PM.
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| Detective Wesson | Nov 17 2013, 04:17 PM Post #2 |
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[90 exp // 300 zenni] 1809 words, -600 net WPD [Battle Mod] Demon Well Transformation Series |
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| Kalkavek | Nov 17 2013, 04:23 PM Post #3 |
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Actual World Ender
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Horrifying.
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4:42 AM Jul 11