[!] Coming from the open gate of the Dar Azur ruins, indistinct chatter and monstrous sounds came forth. It sounded like a feast, or more or less like a big group of school children making the most noise as possible. Spiders hid away, and the ground was shaking. [!]
There were the indescribable noises, the creaks, and groans, the little pops of bursting pustules, the sloppering sticky noises of the frantically affectionate Beasts, Mutants, creations of rot. Sounds which were impossible to ascribe to any one source in particular. Amidst it all, waving his arms, standing on the Lords' feasting table in the once Great Hall, a small Demon of decay was trying to make himself heard. He cleared his throat, then spit out a gob of rotting skin tissue and puss.
"Ahh... Gentlecreatures, Children, my pretties... lend your ears to your loving Father, cease thy aimless chatter, banish thy banal burblings..."
It was pretty useless, and the noise continued, the squeals and laughter reaching a new crescendo. Zarzareth The Creator of Pestilence, a true master Plague Bringer, appeared in a giant swarm of flies for a moment to be hurt by his fellow Demons' rudeness.
"SILENCE" he bellowed, the rotting skin around his cheeks and lips waving around. His entrails were sticking out, insects crawling around his body, stitching wounds shut while new ones opened as he continued to rot by the second. As if the insects that made up his body were keeping him together.
The Demons and insects of Rot and Pestering listened, and the instant silence was deafening the same as the chatter. Zarzareth then simply smiled; he was used to this.
"My creations, my fellow kin, my dear friends, we are His creation, our loving creator, our Titan of Rot and Pestering, has brought us here today to bring forth his loving embrace. The embrace of eternal decay, the peace of death to the mortals. And we are here to deliver." he said with a smile on his face, a maggot crawling through an opening through his rotting teeth and fangs.
The rotting creatures were cheering, dancing almost, jumping up and down the tables, hanging from the giant Plague Birds that hung on the walls and ceilings, which of course, tried to get them off. Zarzareth continued to smile, walking around the table. While doing so, kicking a small rotting dog off the table. Small rotting beasts were fighting over a bloated rotting body of a Denur, which had been sitting there for over 100 years.
"Our friends, the Denur, already welcomed us in these halls. Their king, our recent visitor however-" he paused, showing a sad face. "did not accept our embrace as we had hoped." he spoke in a fake low tone—the demons boo-ed. "My new creations shall bring forth our plagues, our rotting embrace of love and peace. Go on; my children spread our Titans' love!"
[!] The giant Plague Birds, birds made out of rotting skin and bone tissue, covered in blisters and puss, flew out of the hall into the world of Eden. They were followed by the many demons on foot, all cheering and screaming in demonic cries. The Great Hall was empty now. Only Zarzareth was left standing at his giant cauldron filled with liquid puss and rot, accompanied by the little rotflies that were swarming around. The Dance of Death had now begun. [!]
There were the indescribable noises, the creaks, and groans, the little pops of bursting pustules, the sloppering sticky noises of the frantically affectionate Beasts, Mutants, creations of rot. Sounds which were impossible to ascribe to any one source in particular. Amidst it all, waving his arms, standing on the Lords' feasting table in the once Great Hall, a small Demon of decay was trying to make himself heard. He cleared his throat, then spit out a gob of rotting skin tissue and puss.
"Ahh... Gentlecreatures, Children, my pretties... lend your ears to your loving Father, cease thy aimless chatter, banish thy banal burblings..."
It was pretty useless, and the noise continued, the squeals and laughter reaching a new crescendo. Zarzareth The Creator of Pestilence, a true master Plague Bringer, appeared in a giant swarm of flies for a moment to be hurt by his fellow Demons' rudeness.
"SILENCE" he bellowed, the rotting skin around his cheeks and lips waving around. His entrails were sticking out, insects crawling around his body, stitching wounds shut while new ones opened as he continued to rot by the second. As if the insects that made up his body were keeping him together.
The Demons and insects of Rot and Pestering listened, and the instant silence was deafening the same as the chatter. Zarzareth then simply smiled; he was used to this.
"My creations, my fellow kin, my dear friends, we are His creation, our loving creator, our Titan of Rot and Pestering, has brought us here today to bring forth his loving embrace. The embrace of eternal decay, the peace of death to the mortals. And we are here to deliver." he said with a smile on his face, a maggot crawling through an opening through his rotting teeth and fangs.
The rotting creatures were cheering, dancing almost, jumping up and down the tables, hanging from the giant Plague Birds that hung on the walls and ceilings, which of course, tried to get them off. Zarzareth continued to smile, walking around the table. While doing so, kicking a small rotting dog off the table. Small rotting beasts were fighting over a bloated rotting body of a Denur, which had been sitting there for over 100 years.
"Our friends, the Denur, already welcomed us in these halls. Their king, our recent visitor however-" he paused, showing a sad face. "did not accept our embrace as we had hoped." he spoke in a fake low tone—the demons boo-ed. "My new creations shall bring forth our plagues, our rotting embrace of love and peace. Go on; my children spread our Titans' love!"
[!] The giant Plague Birds, birds made out of rotting skin and bone tissue, covered in blisters and puss, flew out of the hall into the world of Eden. They were followed by the many demons on foot, all cheering and screaming in demonic cries. The Great Hall was empty now. Only Zarzareth was left standing at his giant cauldron filled with liquid puss and rot, accompanied by the little rotflies that were swarming around. The Dance of Death had now begun. [!]
Last edited:
