The Godslayer

Old D&D Thing

After scaling the walls of the Temple of Kelemvor, Illia and Krin looked out to the now burning city of King’s Mountain. As the towering inferno razed the village and the cries of the city’s denizens filled the air, and explosion drew the two’s attention as the castle, besieged by the monstrous might of the balor, was engulfed in flames. The balor, now standing in the blazing ruins of the castle, seemed to gaze out in search of something. Illia felt the cold grip of fear surround her as she fell to her knees, but Krin failed to notice as he narrated the events transpiring afar to the party. The balor’s gaze now fixed toward the Temple of Kelemvor, he let out an otherworldly roar, one that sounded more beckoning than menacing, and the clamor seemed to die down. The cries of the townspeople were being drowned out by a deafening silence that rang out in Illia’s ears. Her vision faded and endless darkness spanned around her. Suddenly, a malevolent voice broke the silence, resonating painfully loud in her head

“Even in my absence, my most faithful pet still shows her devotion to me. Not only did you free my loyal servant, Glyphimhor, from the Abyss, but you also gave me an entire city of souls to help my ascension. With this sacrifice, I will have perfected the Last Word. With it, I shall smite even gods who oppose me and rule over the Forgotten Realms, not just the layers of the Abyss.”

“No,” Illia whispered, eyes wide with shock. “You were destroyed. The Undead Prince, Orcus was slain by-"”

“Do not call me by that powerless name!” hissed the voice in her head. “I am the demon lord Orcus no more! I am the Tenebrous the Godslayer, the dark god sent to bring an end to this pitiful world. Now come back to me, my pet, and be born anew as I have. Devote your life to me, and I will reward you. With the blessing of a true dark god, do my bidding and reshape this world for me.”

“You won’t do as you please with me. You don’t control me…” Malicious laughter echoed all around her.

“I do, my precious little Illia. I always did.” The silence that hung in the air was replaced with the muffled sound of a man yelling. She opened her eyes, the face of the cleric who was yelling at her appeared.

“Can you hear me? Say something!”

“...fault,” Illia whispered, tears streaming down her face. Krin leaned closer to hear what she had said. “It’s my fault…. It’s my fault. It’s my fault.” she repeated over and over again.

“Snap out of it, we have to leave now!” Krin shouted, trying to shake Illia out of her daze, but she was paying him no attention. He attempted to pick her up, but as soon as he hoisted her off of the roof and into his arms, an unbearable heat radiated off of her and her piercing scream filled the air. A deep yellow glow had enshrouded the choker around her neck, and lashed out at Krin. Unable to tolerate the increasing heat, he dropped her from his arms, but before she hit the roof, something stopped her descent, levitating her a few inches above the surface.

Krin watched helplessly as Illia rose in front of him, her screams getting louder and louder as the choker burned into her body and soul melting away the crimson steel of the choker and replacing it with jet-black crystal. Still unwilling to let his comrade continue to suffer, he tried once again to come to her aid, jumping up to try to reach her. But before he could come close enough, Illia was snatched by the balor. The party watched in horror as the balor cracked his whip, crushing part of  the Temple of Kelemvor, before teleporting away with Illia in his captivity.

Illia awoke in what appeared to be a throne room that seemed all too familiar. Before her, the malicious red god sat upon his throne with his loyal balor at his side. As Illia rose to her feet, Tenebrous held his arms wide open, his goat head cracking into a devilish smile now that she was awake.

“My darling little pet, Illia. You stand before your master, the dark god who slays gods, and I seek to make you my champion. Do my bidding and everything you desire will be yours. As token for your worship to me in returning Glyphimhor and handing me King’s Mountain and all of its souls, you have my blessing. The power to spread my good word, the word of death, I bestow unto you.”

As Tenebrous said that, cracks of deep red appeared on her jet-black crystal choker making it resemble the scorched earth of the Abyss. As this happened, her armor and bow blazed with a black dark magical flame. Ash settled on ground for a moment before swirling up and covering her entire body. Her armor appeared on her again, matching the choker as it appeared a deep black with red cracks. In her right hand appeared not a bow of smoke, but one of deep black shadow.

“Rise now, Illia, my Angel of Death,” proclaimed Tenebrous “Clad in my Abyssal Armor and wielding my Dark Arm, all will know you come in the name of the Godslayer. Now go forth with Glyphimhor and continue to wreak havoc until this world is no more.” The ferocious balor stepped forth, and kneeled before Tenebrous, who waited for Illia’s response.

“If I do this, will I truly get my wish?” she questioned the god.

“You still wish to die, even though you still serve a purpose and are useful?” chuckled Tenebrous. “If that is what you so desire-"”

“No,” she stated boldly. “I realize now that my soul is bound to this plane of the Abyss, there’s no salvation that death can give me anymore. What I want is for you to free the souls of my parents and let them go to the afterlife in peace.” Tenebrous grinned and let out a hearty laugh.

“Foolish girl, I’ve no control over the souls of your parents. Know you not that I have no power over those long-dead?”

“Then how did I-"”

“Your parents died to protect you leaving this realm long before I had the chance to take them, whereas you yet struggle to stay alive, even though you didn’t think it. So I gave you what you unknowingly pleaded for, Undeath. I hardly believe someone so cunning could be so naïve and childish. You disappoint me, Illia. Yet still I would have you my champion, for you skills in slaughter are no surprise. Now enough of you. Glyphimhor take her and hunt down those that freed you from your prison, for I see nothing but interference if they were to live.” The balor’s roar filled the room, and turned to Illia.

“Come, Dark Champion,” he growled and he held out his hand for her to climb. “Off are we to slay the meddlesome insects that trouble our lord. Illia stood still, her eyes shut as Glyphimhor’s hand came closer.

In the blink of an eye, Illia drew her rapier and lashed out at Glyphimhor’s hand. The balor withdrew it and summoned his whip, but Illia darted underneath him, drawing now her Dark Arm bow. The fire illuminating the room shrank into embers, as Illia pulled back the bowstring. A black arrow appeared on the string with shadows undulating at the tip, and she released it.

The dark arrow lanced at Tenebrous, but the god was unamused, summoning his ward to stop the arrow. Tenebrous watched with a smirk as the arrow flew at his ward, ready to punish Illia for her foolishness, but his smirk instantly vanished. Instead of colliding into the ward and vanishing, the arrow passed through the ward as if it didn’t exist, still continuing its flight and finding it’s mark on the god’s right breast, over his heart. A murderous wail reverberated on the walls of the throne room as the arrow struck at Tenebrous’s body and soul.

“YOU INSOLENT ELFIN WRETCH! I GIVE YOU THE GIFT OF LIFE! I GIVE YOU THE GODSLAYER’S BLESSING! AND YOU REPAY ME WITH BETRAYAL!” bellowed the wounded god, making the balor cower in fear, but Illia stood her ground.

“Everything you’ve done for me has caused me nothing but torment. I’ve never had the power to do anything, but now, you’ve given me power, the Godslayer’s blessing. And with it, I will protect those you seek to destroy. You’ve taken me from one family, but you will not take me from this one!”

“I’LL MAKE YOU SUFFER ILLIA! AFTER I DEAL WITH YOU, I’LL HUNT DOWN YOUR ALLIES AND SLAY THEM ALL, ALONG WITH THIS PITIFUL WORLD! GLYPHIMHOR! DESTROY HER!”

The crack of the balor’s whip came unexpectedly, throwing Illia across the room and through the doors of the throne room. It let out a monstrous roar and summoned its vorpal sword ready to give chase. Illia clutched her side in agony as she struggled to get to her feet. She took off into the Bone Palace, painfully sprinting in searching of a way to leave this abyssal plane, lest she be slain here. Having been in the castle many times she knew where she was going, but her thoughts were cluttered with the pain of her injuries and the balor’s terrifying roar in her mind.

Striding down hallways and staircases, she desperately sought for the Harthoon’s chamber. Being the Vizier and Master Embalmer and Alchemist of the Bone Palace, Harthoon would surely have something to help her return to the surface. She stumbled into the Alchemy laboratory and began tearing through books, looking for the slightest hint at what she was looking for. To her surprise, she found Harthoon’s Handbook in in the laboratory, after quickly reading through what she needed, she pocketed the journal and picked up a vial of nail clippings from one of the shelves. Taken from succubi, the clippings had the power, when set ablaze, to take any one being from the Abyss to the forgotten realm.

Illia picked out a nail clipping from the vial, but it was a moment too late. Glyphimhor broke down the door to the laboratory and, using his teleportation, closed the distance with Illia and blasting out a wall of the laboratory in the process. She scrambled away drawing her bow once more. The balor raised his vorpal sword high and prepared to bring it down, but Illia quickly took aim and fired an arrow at the Glyphimhor’s eye. He cried out in pain, bringing his sword down off mark and barely missing Illia, scorching the ground to her right. Taking advantage of the moment, Illia threw the clipping she removed from the vial onto the burning floor next to her. The flame turned from a bright orange to a deep purple, and she jumped in, the fire licking at her armor. The crack of the whip resounded in the air, but instead of feeling the painful, and possibly deadly, sting of the impact, she felt the cool breeze of night air. The sound of battle filled the air, demons surrounded her in the streets of King’s Mountain.

“Nice to see a friendly face in a dire time.” Came the voice of a familiar warlock. She turned in time to see her companion Lethan lay waste to several lesser demons. Out of one fray and into another, Illia’s battle for King’s Mountain has just begun.