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Dhaymon 7/24/2006 7:02 AM : The Council link
Dhaymon
Posts: 426

((I'm posting rp threads from teh past and present to help celebrate Pia's Anniversary week. This is a story Dhaymon shared with the server several years ago and I thought you all might enjoy it again, or for the first time.))

Thirteen there were, and thirteen must remain,
O'er the eternal Fel Council reign-
Of them, speak in legends grand,
None shall feel a mortal's brand.

The first was the means to the end,
And formed a whole from fragments rent.
Ubaal, creator of the demon-stones,
Met an end where the Druids roamed.

Yrrlish, out of discontent was sown.
Azrael, of the dark-earth grown.
Lilikth, plunderer of innocence.
Dezyilin, sword of Mar'Khul's fence,

Grilakth, imp-leader of the North.
Eerazhul, pursuer of demonic works.
Wyrmael, he of the reptilian visage.
Doornikth, lord of the dead, arisen.

Rakh'likh, Defiler of the Rise.
Balnazzar heads the Scarlet eyes.
Kazzak, in the Southern Reaches roams.
And Arthas, on his Frozen Throne.

None shall fall, and none shall fight,
With those that stand in Holy Light.
None shall perish by warrior's blade.
Though the Earth may Kill,
and the Earth may Save.

-- Uncredited Prophecy.

The council did not take place anywhere corporeal. It was a gathering of minds, little more, facilitated by their individual Stones. Crafted akin to Azeroth's hearthstones, but perverted, the demonstones allowed conversation as easily as though the participants were in the same room with one another.

Once there had been thirteen.

The thirteenth had fallen into the hands of a mortal. It had belonged to the stones' original creator, a Demon named Ubaal. Ubaal had been one of several to attempt to corrupt the Emerald Dream. It seemed he had succeeded at the cost of his life and his stone.

Still, the mortal to whom the stone had fallen had been unwary, and attracted a bit too much attention from a very stubborn Kaldorei.

The mortal had been banished, the stone destroyed. Then there were twelve.

Five years passed. The very stubborn Kaldorei just did not know when to stop, it seemed.

Now there were four. It was these four minds that now met in the ether, outside of Azeroth's plane of existence. There were no faces, merely presences, hovering in a thick gray fog.

"I may have The Trouble next," said one, a glowering, defiled presence. "I cannot explain the absence of several thralls. I believe he Hunts me."

"Snivel all you want. We are those who remain for a reason. We are the strongest of the thirteen. The last of the thirteen. He has not come for us because he cannot," said another, a dark, shadowy presence, limited even to the perceptions of the other three.

"Easy for you to say, when you sit at the head of the table. You he will save for last," said the Defiler.

"You seek to intimidate me? With a mere mortal?" the Shadow laughed coldly. "He cannot so much as touch me. I am Eternity."

"We should crush him before he can try," said the third, the largest presence of the four, hulking and strong, with ethereal eyes of fire. The other three could almost imagine him rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the act. "It would be my pleasure."

"Perhaps," said the fourth, the most calculating and cold of the four. "Perhaps it would be best to act pre-emptively. Three years ago there were still nine of us in this council, and we agreed then that he could not reduce our numbers further. Now we are four. It would be only prudent to expect further surprises from The Trouble."

"Yes," agreed the Defiler. "Let's kill him now and be done with it."

"You are the weakest of us, and you have neither the strength nor the ability to coerce us into saving you The Trouble," said the Hulk. "Still, I have so looked forward to crushing the mortal beneath my heel. He has occupied too much of our time already. If I do this, it will be because it is my pleasure to do so, not due to your cowardice."

The Defiler glowered some more, but was silent.

"Then it is agreed?" the Shadow asked the Hulk. "We will attempt to cease The Trouble, and shuffle him off this mortal coil, yes?"

"As One," agreed the Hulk.

"As One," repeated the Cold One.

"As One," said the Defiler.

"I'll go find him and grind him into jam," said the Hulk. His presence began to waver, but the Shadow shimmered, the Hulk went no-where. "Why do you keep me?"

"Don't go to him, fool," said the Shadow. "You are the strongest sword-arm we have, but even you cannot stand against the Army of Stormwind--yes, that is where The Trouble currently resides. You never study."

"Then I will wait outside Stormwind until he steps forth," said the Hulk, and attempted to leave once more. The Shadow held him firm. "Remove your influence from my stone!"

"No. You will not reduce us to Three through your stupidity."

The Hulk's presence seemed on the verge of pouncing on the Shadow, but eventually relaxed.

The Shadow spoke a name unpronounceable in Common, directed at the Defiler. "Can you handle The Trouble? You say it is coming to you; perhaps, given warning, even you..."

The Defiler interrupted. "Don't dare impugn my valor in combat. Were it not for the Eight that lay dead I wouldn't think twice about destroying him. But, unlike--" --the Defiler spoke another unpronounceable name, directed at the Hulk-- "I am intelligent enough to realize when something might throw an unexpected attack my way. The Trouble has been resourceful in the past, and though I am immortal, so were the Eight who have fallen to him."

"You say he Hunts you," said the Cold One.

"I believe so. I have never lost thralls in this number before. And none on the scenes were left alive to report what occurred to me."

"That is his footprint," agreed the Cold One. "Every time, none left alive. He cares nothing for glory. He doesn't care if we know he is coming or not, or to leave one wounded to tell the tales of his assaults."

The Shadow turned to the Cold One. "You are the most intuitive and observant among us. Tell us more of his motivations."

The Cold One seemed to settle back as if into a chair, though none were present.

"He tracks and fights with a single-mindedness rare in mortals. I suspect we have wronged him somehow, but I know not what we have done. Likely it began with the mortal who inherited Ubaal's demonstone."

"The Night Elf."

"Yes," drawled the Cold One. "We bent him to our will easily enough--and then he vanished, speaking of The Trouble close behind him. And then we began to fall, one by one, until now, we are all that remains."

"So his reason is vengeance," mused the Shadow.

"No," said the Cold One, slowly. "Vengeance clouds the mind. Fuels the heart, but one makes mistakes in hot pursuit of vengeance. The years The Trouble spent seeking the Night Elf were fraught with mistakes. I believe that was his vengeance. No longer. This one is as calculating as I am when on our trails. There is something else behind his recent Hunts beyond vengeance."

"What can drive one further than revenge?" asked the Hulk, unable to comprehend the idea.

"I believe he thinks we owe him something," said the Cold One. "Perceived debt can be a powerful motivation indeed."

"Then perhaps a bribe will--" began the Defiler.

"No," interrupted the Cold One. "Nothing material. We are dealing with a Druid of the Talon. They think in terms of scales and weights, balances and imbalances. I believe that he thinks the scales are tipped in our favor, and have been since Hyjal. He seeks to balance those scales."

"With what?" asked the Hulk.

The Shadow grimaced. The second most intelligent of the four, the Shadow had guessed the price The Trouble sought.

"Our lives, I believe. Ask yourself what would motivate a mortal first to vengeance, and then to the Balance?"

"We have never been able to discern what offense we committed," said the Shadow. "But it would seem that he does desire our deaths in payment."

"I would suppose we killed him," said the Cold One.

"Huh?" asked the Hulk, uttering the first non-proper phrase of the meeting. "But he remains."

"Not physically, dolt. I mean we took his life away from him. There is no other reason why he should turn his back on all he knows to Hunt us. We took his life away. He wants ours."

"Then he will not stop," said the Defiler.

"Not until he is dead or we are dead," agreed the Shadow.

"There is one way to assuredly defeat one as cautious, proper, and calculating as The Trouble," said the Cold One.

The other three presences turned and looked at him, curious.

"We must be one calculation ahead of him," said the Cold One, self-satisfied. "If we know where he will be and what he must do next..."

"...we can destroy him from ambush," said the Shadow, agreeing.

"That is a task I leave to you three," said the Cold One. "I am no mercenary. I am not clairvoyant. I have added my thoughts. Do what you will."

The presence of the Cold One abruptly vanished from the meeting, leaving three behind.

"I will prepare this attack," said the Shadow. "Be ready."

"When you call, I will answer--and crush The Trouble beneath my heel," said the Hulk. He vanished, loosed from the Shadow's control.

"Just be ready with your attack before I join the other Eight in eternity," said the Defiler, vanishing as well.

Only the Shadow remained, hovering in the ether.

"I *am* eternity, Rakh'likh," said the Shadow, malevolent all of a sudden now that the other three had gone. "And I will be the last, and the most powerful of the Demonlords in Azeroth once The Trouble does away with you three for me. And when he has fulfilled his purpose--"

The Shadow made a motion in the ether, as if dismissing a presence.

Chuckling, the Shadow faded from existence, returning to his throne in Azeroth.

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On a side note, not counting this addendum, there are precisely 1666 words in this post.

Characters: Dhaymon