King Avallach
Deity of the Old World
Give me what little strength I have left to finish this document. The usurpers have come to supposedly glorify our "barren wasteland" the outsiders have started putting green into our midst. Green is not supposed to exist here. The podgy pink fleshed beings come with their swords and those metal contraptions that lash out firey death through little blunt arrow heads at high velocity. His name is Dante and he comes to kill the darkness. He is unaware that he is being driven by a force even beyond the supreme being. That force is fate and it is a force beyond any other, he will revert back and destroy humanity when he sees what they have become. Not only are they entering the age of inconsequence but they are already spewing noxious fumes from obsolete factories, killing themselves through dietry abnormalities and smoking. They are the scum but we are the blamed, why is this, why is this? I'll tell you why, humans are born with inherent sin and because of that they are forgiven. As for us we are born of sin even though many of us are blameless, therefore we are punished merely for existing. Their fellonous acts render us day and night as pestilential vermin whilst they enjoy their cheap watery ale and live out of their suitcases with inscrutible cappicino makers, computers, televisions, ipods, walkmans, stereos and the like whilst they throw into our depths, carcinogenic vegetables and raw, rotting meat. And to top it off most of the meat is cheaply made British beef where the cows in question are made to feed upon the carcasses of other animals. So much for the famous promiscuity and benevolence of god. And I say it with a small "g" because that is all it deserves. The supreme being has never felt sorrow and neither will it have to in this current state of affairs. Let's rise together and let us mould the world into absolute order. We will keep absolute order through the universe as no one cares about the chaos.
To be continued...
I rode off to meet this Dante in combat. He shot down a legion with his projectile weapons and then butchered the rest of my troops with a massive sword. He seems to enjoy it as well, he is truly on his way to becoming one of us. I matched his strikes a few times but I was no match for the sparda descent. I lost my hand that day and now he drives in deeper into the horde. We have given him the nickname of 'mad dog' as he has rushed about like a frezied rabid dog in my domain severing limbs here and there. My apostles go to war now, they are my elite. If dante thinks that he'll kill then without a fight, he is sorely mistaken. I sing "lamention for brave souls" over the bodies of my warriors. Soon my apostles will secure the cauldron of rebirth. Then we will be invincible through means of regeneration. Unless Dante can strike down me and my army within minutes, then we should be able to match him. right now I stand beside the body of my beloved. She was caught up in the massacre. During the massacre, the lucky ones died immediately whilst the unlucky ones were left to cough up claret until they were dry. She was not one of the fortunate. I also saw one of my generals fight the mad dog. his strikes were quick and strong and wherever Dante's sword was headed he was in there first until it turned out to be all Dante's sick joke and then my general's head got seperated from his shoulders and his torso left his legs. We are forced to move or we'll be dead as the nethersun rises.
It is a long and arduous trek towards Kloperthei-Ans, a fortress to the north but that is where we are headed. We have a new birth among our pride Yynei he will carry on his father's legacy, I have no doubt of it. He is a strong imp and will become a great demon someday. Forgive my digression dear reader of this almanac of mine. I just need something positive on my mind to get us through this. Soon we will traverse the sea of aching souls through to the desert of cadavers, then to the perilous peaks where no one has ever returned. There is an unknown warrior attacking there. Whoever it is, they can't be worse than the mad dog. And I recite the poem:
"Lifting myself onto the plain
walking under the scarlet rain
and seeing perilous peaks that sit under
the one with a clap of lightning and a voice of thunder
Contented I lay in the pit
wrong about so much, I admit
I cannot hide, I cannot run
and though I live, my life is done "
It was possibly the worst poem ever to have been published in the netherworld but its relevance was so overt that it inspired some form of awe in the hearts of the travellers and they continued onward, not stopping, defying the fatigue that was so obvious from their faces. Once we were there we would recieve a warm welcome to the hosts' hearth and when we were ready. We shouldn't even have to fight Dante as our lord knew, sending semi-imps against the son of the demon who could have killed him was like sending cattle to the slaughterhouse and expecting them to live through it. I.e it's not going to happen.
We arrived at the fortress and were welcomed by our brethren. After a drink, a meal and a fencing match we all gathered by the lava shrine in order to call our master to us. As it turned out Dante was taken on a perilous journey to meet him we hoped that our master would put the mad dog to sleep. we spent our time renewing our army just incase the stars had spoke true to us. They said that a white devil would come and purge us. We did everything we could, we read up on mortal technology, tactics, snares, traps and the like. Our favourite of their contraptions was the crude but brutal looking tiger traps. I asked around for when we would be ready. My troops needed at least three days more to prepare for the coming storm. We did eat and drink our fill at the mealtimes though as it would be below us to be going hungry, we were demons not melancholy possessed vagrants. Forgive my manner but we should not be having to run from anyone let alone a half traitor demon half human, American son of a *****!!!
end of entry part 1
"And now I live but my life is done"
The words come back day by day, like an old dog. I so wanted them to go away but they wouldn't. Our lord had been bested once again. I threw myself at the profane altar cursing fate for all it was worth. Kkliutur, a guard came to cheer me but it was no use. Even the most amateur of strategists knew that without a leader, the army's morale would take a turn for the worst.
"Maybe you could be lord" He said
"Me, but I'm only an advisor, I'm no field demon"
"maybe not but you know how to raise the morale of everyone around you, we could still win"
"No we couldn't" I sobbed
"Demons never cry" he said
"What are you implying?!" I asked angrily
"You can beat Dante, you are a great swordsman, strong as any demon I've encountered, faster than Griffon with the wind on his back!"
"I only have one eye and one hand"
"Your hand will regenerate, your eye you don't necessarily need as long as the other one is good"
"Okay but I'll need other supporters"
"They will all join you" he said and he said it with such conviction that I went along with it.
It turned out that the guard was indeed correct, the languishing souls came to me as I invited them to my hearth and offered me lordship. I then became Lord Bolverk as a temporary stance until someone who I bid greater than I appeared on the horizon. My hand had regenerated just as the guard said and in it lay a feaful spear that I prayed would one day claim the head of the mad dog Dante and put an end to his foolish ideals.
I practiced with that spear day by day honing both my skill and its tip. I was somehow able to channel energy down it to seemingly elongate the spearhead so I could clear a room of mortals in one quick horizontal sweep. I knew that the mad dog hadn't lost its bark or bite yet so I continued training and I learned a displacement technique said to have been used by the famous black knight Nelo Angelo who we heard could have killed Dante once quite easily. I also learned the ability to send negative energy across the room in the form of roaring blue flame.
Life was fairly quiet, nothing spectacular. We were getting supplies of meat and alcohol though so there was nothing really to complain about. Some of the more belligerent demons began to question me "When are we going to attack the humans or that mad dog Dante" I didn't answer him directly, I said "Woe is my heart that you seek death after I brought you from it. Are you too blind to see that death may be tragic but life is miserable. In the end they are sure to be undone by the sheer meanness of their existance, it's in their demeanor, all we have to do is pluck a few strings here and there and they will know our pain, whereby universal justice is done."
After that he left, perhaps slightly baffled. Delinquents always are. Dear reader you may think that our pain is too great a burden on your shoulders, think yourself fortunate for being able to die and escape from the relentless hardships that we endure.
end of entry part 2
Listen to me now reader. I smell the rotten stench emmitting from the one known as Arius. He is a necromancer, summoner of the dead and damned. As we all fall under those categories here he would be able to summon us onto the plain of man. Except that for now the spells of time are all in motion. To us the domain of man is like a false vesta claiming its beauty to the world whilst being a dull place killing itself through pollution of all kinds, ranting hyperbole and excruciating cacophony. In other words it's a fake. The supreme being's attempt at this place, like the first pancake, is a flop. He sent his son to save them centuries ago but within my memory. A folly task, they will destroy themselves soon enough.
To be continued...
I rode off to meet this Dante in combat. He shot down a legion with his projectile weapons and then butchered the rest of my troops with a massive sword. He seems to enjoy it as well, he is truly on his way to becoming one of us. I matched his strikes a few times but I was no match for the sparda descent. I lost my hand that day and now he drives in deeper into the horde. We have given him the nickname of 'mad dog' as he has rushed about like a frezied rabid dog in my domain severing limbs here and there. My apostles go to war now, they are my elite. If dante thinks that he'll kill then without a fight, he is sorely mistaken. I sing "lamention for brave souls" over the bodies of my warriors. Soon my apostles will secure the cauldron of rebirth. Then we will be invincible through means of regeneration. Unless Dante can strike down me and my army within minutes, then we should be able to match him. right now I stand beside the body of my beloved. She was caught up in the massacre. During the massacre, the lucky ones died immediately whilst the unlucky ones were left to cough up claret until they were dry. She was not one of the fortunate. I also saw one of my generals fight the mad dog. his strikes were quick and strong and wherever Dante's sword was headed he was in there first until it turned out to be all Dante's sick joke and then my general's head got seperated from his shoulders and his torso left his legs. We are forced to move or we'll be dead as the nethersun rises.
It is a long and arduous trek towards Kloperthei-Ans, a fortress to the north but that is where we are headed. We have a new birth among our pride Yynei he will carry on his father's legacy, I have no doubt of it. He is a strong imp and will become a great demon someday. Forgive my digression dear reader of this almanac of mine. I just need something positive on my mind to get us through this. Soon we will traverse the sea of aching souls through to the desert of cadavers, then to the perilous peaks where no one has ever returned. There is an unknown warrior attacking there. Whoever it is, they can't be worse than the mad dog. And I recite the poem:
"Lifting myself onto the plain
walking under the scarlet rain
and seeing perilous peaks that sit under
the one with a clap of lightning and a voice of thunder
Contented I lay in the pit
wrong about so much, I admit
I cannot hide, I cannot run
and though I live, my life is done "
It was possibly the worst poem ever to have been published in the netherworld but its relevance was so overt that it inspired some form of awe in the hearts of the travellers and they continued onward, not stopping, defying the fatigue that was so obvious from their faces. Once we were there we would recieve a warm welcome to the hosts' hearth and when we were ready. We shouldn't even have to fight Dante as our lord knew, sending semi-imps against the son of the demon who could have killed him was like sending cattle to the slaughterhouse and expecting them to live through it. I.e it's not going to happen.
We arrived at the fortress and were welcomed by our brethren. After a drink, a meal and a fencing match we all gathered by the lava shrine in order to call our master to us. As it turned out Dante was taken on a perilous journey to meet him we hoped that our master would put the mad dog to sleep. we spent our time renewing our army just incase the stars had spoke true to us. They said that a white devil would come and purge us. We did everything we could, we read up on mortal technology, tactics, snares, traps and the like. Our favourite of their contraptions was the crude but brutal looking tiger traps. I asked around for when we would be ready. My troops needed at least three days more to prepare for the coming storm. We did eat and drink our fill at the mealtimes though as it would be below us to be going hungry, we were demons not melancholy possessed vagrants. Forgive my manner but we should not be having to run from anyone let alone a half traitor demon half human, American son of a *****!!!
end of entry part 1
"And now I live but my life is done"
The words come back day by day, like an old dog. I so wanted them to go away but they wouldn't. Our lord had been bested once again. I threw myself at the profane altar cursing fate for all it was worth. Kkliutur, a guard came to cheer me but it was no use. Even the most amateur of strategists knew that without a leader, the army's morale would take a turn for the worst.
"Maybe you could be lord" He said
"Me, but I'm only an advisor, I'm no field demon"
"maybe not but you know how to raise the morale of everyone around you, we could still win"
"No we couldn't" I sobbed
"Demons never cry" he said
"What are you implying?!" I asked angrily
"You can beat Dante, you are a great swordsman, strong as any demon I've encountered, faster than Griffon with the wind on his back!"
"I only have one eye and one hand"
"Your hand will regenerate, your eye you don't necessarily need as long as the other one is good"
"Okay but I'll need other supporters"
"They will all join you" he said and he said it with such conviction that I went along with it.
It turned out that the guard was indeed correct, the languishing souls came to me as I invited them to my hearth and offered me lordship. I then became Lord Bolverk as a temporary stance until someone who I bid greater than I appeared on the horizon. My hand had regenerated just as the guard said and in it lay a feaful spear that I prayed would one day claim the head of the mad dog Dante and put an end to his foolish ideals.
I practiced with that spear day by day honing both my skill and its tip. I was somehow able to channel energy down it to seemingly elongate the spearhead so I could clear a room of mortals in one quick horizontal sweep. I knew that the mad dog hadn't lost its bark or bite yet so I continued training and I learned a displacement technique said to have been used by the famous black knight Nelo Angelo who we heard could have killed Dante once quite easily. I also learned the ability to send negative energy across the room in the form of roaring blue flame.
Life was fairly quiet, nothing spectacular. We were getting supplies of meat and alcohol though so there was nothing really to complain about. Some of the more belligerent demons began to question me "When are we going to attack the humans or that mad dog Dante" I didn't answer him directly, I said "Woe is my heart that you seek death after I brought you from it. Are you too blind to see that death may be tragic but life is miserable. In the end they are sure to be undone by the sheer meanness of their existance, it's in their demeanor, all we have to do is pluck a few strings here and there and they will know our pain, whereby universal justice is done."
After that he left, perhaps slightly baffled. Delinquents always are. Dear reader you may think that our pain is too great a burden on your shoulders, think yourself fortunate for being able to die and escape from the relentless hardships that we endure.
end of entry part 2
Listen to me now reader. I smell the rotten stench emmitting from the one known as Arius. He is a necromancer, summoner of the dead and damned. As we all fall under those categories here he would be able to summon us onto the plain of man. Except that for now the spells of time are all in motion. To us the domain of man is like a false vesta claiming its beauty to the world whilst being a dull place killing itself through pollution of all kinds, ranting hyperbole and excruciating cacophony. In other words it's a fake. The supreme being's attempt at this place, like the first pancake, is a flop. He sent his son to save them centuries ago but within my memory. A folly task, they will destroy themselves soon enough.
