Private Tales Devils Never Die

[Arkhivom]

There was a great sound, the crashing ring of metal upon metal, and then the sound of many chains jostling. In the shadow of a dark tower, atop a dark castle, a large gate was drawn down. It came to rest with a thunderous thud, and dust billowed up around it. Within the archway beyond was nothing but darkness. The dreary encampment that was sprung up before it, moments ago a bustle of vigorous activity, had grown almost utterly silent. Gathered near to and around a large fire at the camp's center was a good number of oddly placed individuals. While most others around the war-camp were clad in black and grey, or even bore a resemblance to some kind of monster, these others were obviously foreign with their lighter assortment of shown colours - for the most part. They seemed the least perturbed by the sudden change in the air, at least for a moment.

The thud of heavy footfalls drew their attention back to the gate.

In the darkness of this place it was difficult to truly see who it was who approached. They all had guessed of course, but the leader of this army was often spoke of and seldom seen - until now. At first he seemed to resemble a man, but his stature was inhuman, and his eyes were red as fire. The resemblances further faded as he came to loom over those gathered. His mandibles hung open as he let out a rumbling growl of a hum, examining those who would fight for him.

His voice was finally heard. Though he did not lift it, it carried like distant thunder across calm waters, and though it boomed it was not the sound of a malicious and encroaching storm.

"They know why they are here?" he asked, at first seemingly to no one.

"They know they have come to fight, my lord," a voice called out, from where, one might not tell.

He began to walk sidelong, but he kept his head turned toward them as he began to circle around the fire.

"The Aerai are cunning liars. They would enslave you all to their gods. You answer my call. But, why?"

---

Fennec ​

 

[Fennec]

Among those gathered a robed woman stood around the main firepit, dark eyes glinting within the shadow of her cowl. Having arrived not alone, but among the throngs of those who had answered the call, she said very little and made no fuss. Narra did not come here to make friends, but to make peace with her past.

Sometimes peace came in the form of darkness and monsters.

"Because Gods deserve to know fear as well," she answered when no other did, gaze shifting toward the great creature that prowled along the outskirts of the firelight.

There did not seem to be an overwhelming sense of fear permeating the grounds, but simply one of tension. The sort that required a sharp edge to snap the wire. Narra preferred to be that edge rather than get caught in the rebound.

 

[Arkhivom]

When a voiced called back to him, he stopped midstride. His eyes were upon her.

A few others mustered the courage for some words after Fennec, mentions of freedom and glory, someone had a personal grudge. Like with her, his eyes moved amongst the crowd to those who spoke up. A few others, and then it was quiet again.

He looked at her a final time as he said, "good," and then continued his predatory surveilling until he returned to the place he'd started.

He looked out amongst them, "join me within when you are ready, there are things about our enemy your must know."

He turned and departed, impartial to if they lingered there for a time or not. The way to follow will be obvious enough. As he entered in through the darkly lit archway, he passed into a corridor before into a vast hall of marbled floors and obsidian walls. Within, it was oddly empty, save for a few shadowy figures who seemed to glide around in dark robes. At the far end, a grand stairwell, and a great door which swung open for him, and remained so.

In this chamber, there was a throne, and several others present who bore a likeness to Arkhivom, though their stature was far less than his.

And upon his throne he would wait until those who were resigned to see this through followed him in.

---

Fennec ​

 

[Fennec]

Some may have lingered in order not to appear desperate. In times of war and strife, desperation was as much weakness as it was distraction. Narra remained by the fire only long enough to finish her drink, leaving an empty mug behind on an open seat.

There were some that departed before her and she remain back off their heels. With quiet movements she strode along the dreary hall, dark eyes shifting from one shadowed corner or figure to the next, taking it all in and imprinting it to memory.

Upon entering the throne room she said nothing and moved only to stand among those already gathered, waiting. There was no need to hold further appearances or assert dominance - she need only be present and aware in both body and mind. Her attention roved across the various seats before her and the creatures that claimed them. Unusual things, not like any she'd ever witnessed before, but clearly not of human origin.

Learning what made Him their leader was of great interest. Did his kind lead by might? By prowess? By bravado or cunning? Did they wield great magics or carry hidden means of enacting their hunt?

Narra's eyes narrowed in the darkness. What God did these creatures answer to?

 

[Arkhivom]

Beyond a few hushed voices and the crackle of fire, there was quiet while they entered in. But while the atmosphere was heavy, it did not weigh down in discomfort, there was no direct ire here. The way some of Arkhivom's lieutenants seemed to gauge those assembled was postured, but restrained. Sitting on the edge of their seat, but no further. Like hungry animals whose leash had slack yet...

"When you fight the Aerai," a voice unlike his called out, "you will find them a difficult foe."

A much more lithe and feminine creature appeared from somewhere beyond Arkhivom's throne and came before them. In tow were two of the shadowy robed figures seen earlier, and in each of their arms was a large case.

"They are masters of the mind, and can whisper to one another without our knowing, and even trick your own mind. Fortunately," she gestured, and the cultists opened the cases and presented them open to those assembled. Within were small shards of what appeared to be a crystal, formed into pendants to be either worn or carried. "Our lord can turn their tricks against them. With these, they will be unable to use their power against you."

"Take them, and you will be known as mine, and none of the dark army shall assail you wherever you go, and they will answer to you."

A tall one, well armoured and quite confident stepped forward. Though at first slightly hesitant, he reached into the case and grabbed up one of the pendants and... nothing happened. Nothing at all. A mix of relief and disappointment washed over the warrior, but the latter was greater. He stepped away and made room for the next.

As they claimed these pendants, Arkhivom peered down and focused on one person in particular. As Fennec approached, he called out to her and gestured politely with his hand, "you. Your name."

---

Fennec ​

 

[Fennec]

To outward appearances she was but a woman of average height and stout build woven beneath layers of cloak, fabric, and light armor. What little of her face to be seen in the dimness was tanned not from the sun, but by her blood and marked by small sigils in faded blue. Aside from that, she carried no obvious weaponry upon her and moved quietly without haste or show.

When her turn came and she stepped forward, she hesitated before the chest and the shards found within not because of a wariness, but because she seemed to sense the question on the leader's mind before he even took a breath to make it.

Those dark eyes turned up to look at him, brimming with the silent curiosity of one accustomed to being at the top of the food chain at any given place she found herself.

"Narra," said the woman, her voice low and gravely to the point that it barely carried or echoed. She lifted her hands to pull the cowl back from her head, revealing long, dark hair intricately plaited in rows along her scalp. Those same hands lowered to rest at her sides while she awaited any further questions.

 

[Arkhivom]

When their eyes met, he peered into hers with interest. Not only had she been the first to share her voice, but she had also strung a chord he often played in his thoughts.

"Because Gods deserve to know fear as well."
​

"There are few who I have met in my time who truly know what either gods, or fear, truly are. Tell me," he paused, and looked amongst the others, then back to her, "what of either do you know?"

Uncharacteristically, he spoke to her with a genuine calm, far from adversary - but of course, he was not seeking adversaries here. Instead, he seemed intrigued with the sense of something else, though what that was, was anyone's guess. Even his lieutenants, ever aware of their master's bidding, were somewhat aroused with curiosity. While he'd not spoken harshly to any of those who had answered his call, none he had spoken quite so softly too, either.

But nothing he did, ever, was without purpose. Whatever he saw, whatever he had devised within his thought would be followed by them regardless. The same could not be said for those he'd called. The same could not be said for this Narra.

---

Fennec ​

 

[Fennec]

The calm demeanor may have put others at ease in his presence, but Narra was familiar with the constant dance of predators. She mirrored his calm while standing there before his offering, head canting faintly to one side in tune to his questions.

"Fear is the mind killer," Narra responded in kind, voice level and still low, commanding utmost attentiveness to hear by those around her, "to know the mind of a God is to know their weakness."

A beat of silence passed where the woman broke her gaze from Him to pan it across those that would call themselves his followers, "They're only people, like you and me."

 

[Arkhivom]

"Perhaps you are right, but they are called gods for no small reason. This killer of the mind, they have wielded it themselves, we see its fruits in our enemy. They call it faith."

He sat more comfortably into his seat.

"It begins here, in this wretched land with these pestering elves, too long a thorn. And then I would see this world wiped clean of their influence... but those who come to my aid, have mine in return. Some seek only blood and wine, but you seek...?"

He could not read her mind, but by the way she spoke he was certain there was far more to her than met the eye, and far more than most others who had come to serve. It wasn't very often someone caught his eye, he was usually more inclined to simply - inevitably - murder most people, but this one was different like only so few others were.

At least for the moment.

---

Fennec ​

 

[Fennec]

Faith.

Religion. Indoctrination.

Brainwashing of the few and the many.

Narra was intimately familiar with the concepts in her own way. Though she'd never subscribed to the idea of a traditional deity or worship thereof, she had been raised within an institution that very closely mirrored the same foundations.

"Apostasy," the woman replied, her eyes drifting down to her empty hands which she turned over to examine the palms, "the truth."

There were scars, both visible and not, representing a story she'd been given her entire life with far too many plot holes for her liking. Questions never answered or held at ransom for false promises never fulfilled.

"Absolution." Narra looked back up at him, "Can you give me those things?"