#rp: plans to conquering elthurel

[shimmerbeasts]

FUCK ZARIEL . Fuck her and her plans, and her war table, and her army. There wasn't a single inch of this shit that Karlach was even remotely interested in. There was something real fuckin' grating about the way she said those words, EVEN IF THEY HELD SOME TRUTH . She did always do what she was told. Too damn scared for what came next if she didn't. Playing along, like her good dog.

Massive red hands gripped at the war table, and for a second the tiefling thought she might break it. Torn, between shutting up and speaking her mind. Never one to talk back, not anymore. She learned that the hard way some time ago. HOW MANY YEARS WAS IT , ANYWAY ? She stopped counting. Just made this shit more miserable. " Look at the Ridgeline. " Karlach finally says, dragging a hand up to point at the shifting landscape on the table, lips yanked into an aggressive frown. Sweet beaded against her brow. NERVOUS . " Funneling troops into this valley could be an ambush. Doesn't matter how many air units we have. Won't stop a single demon, tell you that. Say we send a scouting party ahead first - investigate that fortress in the basin. Once it's cleared of Abyss fuckers, we push in and claim territory. One step closer to Elturel. " ONE STEP CLOSER TO GETTING THE FUCK OUT OF HERE .

An involuntary shocked gasp spread across the war table as the Tiefling spoke her mind and even dared to lay hands upon the beautiful, yet eerily shifting war table. Several heads whipped around and bale-filled, red and black eyes focussed upon Karlach. Ire laced the air so thick, you might choke on it.

"How dare you question her ladyship's idea, you common foot soldier?!"

The outraged question came from Nariangela. The Erinyes bridge officer was beating her large, red wings, feathers puffed out and spear directed at Karlach as if she wanted to pierce her with the tip. While nobody else dared to voice their disapproval, the hissing of the bone devils and the snarls of the Cambions made it clear that the army regarded Karlach's words as a sign of disrespect.

"Let her speak, Nariangela", Zariel cut in calmly and the bridge officer backed off. The archdevil leaned forward on her throne. Her fiery white eyes rested solely on her champion as she gave Karlach her undivided focus. That unrelenting gaze only broke to look at the map to follow her illustration. The longer Karlach illustrated the problem, the more Zariel could see it.

Her bone-white hand tightened around the edge of her armrest until the knuckles were strongly pronounced underneath her paper-thin skin. Zariel slowly nodded and got up from the throne. As she moved, her body morphed and shifted until, instead of fifteen feet, it was only six feet and five inches. Her black wings with red streaks at their base dragged behind her like an eerie cape.

Stopping before Karlach, Zariel peered down at the Tiefling as if a dog had just performed an unexpected new trick. Even her compliment sounded like it was a shard of ice, ramming itself into Karlach's brain: "Smart thinking, Karlach." Zariel turned towards her bridge officer and said: "Have everybody return to their stations and hold their positions until further instructions are given. Have one Imp fetch two dragon teeth. Everybody, but Karlach, is dismissed."

@infernalapparatus cont. from here.

[shimmerbeasts]

Zariel did not believe in loyalty. Whether it be due to what Elthurel had done to her or her experiences at her imprisonment be Bel's hands, one thing she had learned early in her fall: Loyalty was a lie. When the chips were down, people revealed their true colours and those were always ugly! Fear made you selfish. Fear made you choose your hide and skin over the well-being of your army. Thus Zariel knew that she could not rule through fear alone. But she also could not count on people being loyal as she knew that could flip on a dime.

No, if Zariel wanted to ensure that people continued to fight for her, she had to do more than just appeal to their base instincts. She had to tether them to her. Force them to depend on her for something, which would always make them come back to her after every fought battle. Over the centuries, she had realised how there was no greater tether than addiction. Addictions made you a slave to your baser impulses and to the person who supplied you with what you craved so much. And right here, Zariel found the key buried for her success.

That engine in Karlach's chest had never been about just making her a more capable warrior and someone whom the demons of the Blood War had to fear. No, it had been a psychological experiment, which was still ongoing. Infernal iron was a delicate and complicated matter. Nothing was more sturdy than it or more resilient. However, like most things in the Nine Hells, it was soaked in pure malice. And pure malice could only love another creature of pure malice.

A well-guarded trade secret in Avernus was the fact that the infernal machinery was soaked in her blood during the process of completion. Thus infatuating anything made in Avernus with total obsession and love for her. Karlach's mechanical heart loving her and spreading that sensation through the Tiefling, especially whenever she took soul coins, was no accident.

As Karlach gave her report, Zariel easily could picture all the participants. From the leathery wings and the thick black hide of the Nabassu with their little bat faces to the large, heavy coils of the Merelith, its multiple arms, each flashing a different weapon. The hog-like snout of the Nalfeshnee, its huge tusks slick with drool. The seventh legion had essentially split parts of its army into two armies now. Karlach had done an excellent job at extinguishing most of them. However, upon hearing that the Merelith had escaped with a handful of Nassabu, Zariel harked and a bloodthirsty, excited grin came across her pale face.

"Oh, really?" Zariel came closer at a fast pace, which betrayed her hunger for action and her thirst for a massacre. "Did they now?" She leaned over Karlach like a vulture over a carcass. Her pale hand pressed against the small layer of skin between Karlach's breasts where the infernal engine was the most prominent. Zariel rubbed her palm up and down it as if she were soothing the engine like it was an overexcited puppy. "Tell me, child, where are they heading?"

KARLACH HATED HOW FAMILIAR ALL OF THIS BECAME . She knew what path to walk by memory, knew what direction to go. As soon as she was given a ride back up to the Flying Fortress looming menacingly above the River Styx, she felt nothing but dread swell within her. The tiefling wanted so badly to turn tail, to run, to defy and to rebel - but she was fucking terrified. Fucking terrified of dying, of more abuse. She needed to play this game, and look for a way out. Ever vigilant eyes were always spying for some sort of escape. Not yet, not yet, she reminded again and again, as her boots touched down on familiar infernal steel.

Slowly did she dredge through these hallways, past devils who didn't give her a second look. Any semblance of power she had was lost - lost to the fear clutching her. She had won, two soulless beings in tow, but they halted once she arrived at Zariel's sanctuary. It was here, just shy of Zariel's observation deck, did Karlach hear the faint screams of souls being siphoned into unholy engines. This, tactically, was the best place to stop. An area to refuel the towering war machine that defied all gravity with Infernal casings laced with traces of divination, and a perfect overlook of the valley below. After all these years, Karlach had slowly grown numb to the sound of the hellish fuel source. GROWN NUMB TO THE ATROCITIES SHE HAS HAD TO COMMIT . It was all for her survival. It was a necessary evil.

She didn't feel good about it. She never felt good about it. SHE REFUSED TO LET HERSELF FEEL GOOD ABOUT IT . Even when her engine loved to be soaked in blood.

Karlach's forced piety was apparent as she entered into the chamber, facing the back and crooked wings of her mistress, and she drops to her knees. Instinctive at this point, as it had been for years now. It was easier than being whipped until her flesh burst. She closes her eyes, lips pulled into a tight frown, as she waits for acknowledgment. She won't move, won't speak, until it's been properly given. SHE KNOWS THE DRILL BY NOW .

Zariel's powerful voice rang out as she spoke - and her entire presence demanded such respect that even a dragon would bow. And if it did not, then it would bleed. There was command in her tone, in her stance, in her glare. She could feel those eyes on her, even now - with her head bowed and her eyes shut. UTTERLY SUBSERVIENT . Zariel's disgust was not lost on her.

" Yes, Pxedivah. " Was her subdued murmur. Her jaw clenches - and the action causes more blood to dribble from her face. She doesn't dare wipe it. EVEN HER TAIL COILS AROUND HER ANKLE .

She hates this devil in her heart. To her very bones. So of course Zariel only saw it fit to steal that away. GIVE HER SOMETHING THAT WAS MADE TO LOVE HER . The engine quivers in her presence, but not of fear. Of pride. Of want. It disgusted her to the very marrow.

" There was an ambush of Nabassu, led by a single Marilith. They were bearing the symbol of the seventh legion. " Karlach begins her report, keeping her head bowed, her eyes closed. She recalls the details, and she won't spare any detail. Lying here could mean a world of trouble later. So, with her heavy heart engine she admits it all. " Their forces were split - a Nalfeshnee led their other troops against the Hellriders in defense of the city. It seems the demons have not yet penetrated into Elturel yet. " Admitting that was hard. EVEN HARDER STILL WAS TAKING THE LIVES OF THOSE WHO SAW HER - DEMON OR NOT .

" The seventh legion was severely fractured by the ambush, but the Marilith escaped, along with a handful of Nabassu. " There were some Hellriders that escaped - but she chose to omit that information. IT DIDN ' T NEED TO BE SAID .

[shimmerbeasts]

Zariel had stayed on the commando deck of the Flying Fortress after she had given Karlach her order. Looking out over the slim balcony, clawing itself into the metal, she had made out blooms of smoke and the faint yowl and shrieks of demons dying in absolute fear. Even though she had not been present during the slaughter, it had filled the war general with immense pleasure.

Karlach Cliffgate had proven herself to be a fine investment indeed. Even though she was not her strongest soldier, Karlach made up for it with a ferocity and viciousness very few of her soldiers could match. There was something morbidly interesting about a mortal, who still had their soul on the line, into a situation like the battlefields of Avernus. They fought differently, guided by the fear of dying in this nightmare and having their souls be reborn as lemures. It made them more desperate, angrier and more driven. They were willing to take risks many devils were not. They were willing to put everything on the line. Zariel valued that in a beserker.

Right now, little of her mind was occupied with thoughts of Karlach. Zariel barely even heard the drawn-out wails and cries of the souls; her Flying Engine was siphoning directly out of the river Styx to refuel itself. Over the millennia of waging the same battle over and over, she had become numb to those sounds, regarded them as just another noise in the backdrop.

Strangely enough, despite the chaotic and grating nature of their opponents, there was a rhythm and familiarity to the Blood War, which Zariel liked and had picked up on, ever since she had been tasked to observe the tides of this conflict as an angel. The hypnotic back and forth had lured her in back then, and falling into the currents had been a thing of ease. Avernus was not known for unexpected surprises and the fire battle put into her heart was the familiar hunger of the flames, engulfing a forest.

However, new events had sparked that same forest fire to burn faster and hotter. Zariel had always been wrathful, even as an angel, and was unlikely to forgive any slight. Her subjects had learned of this temperament early enough. At first, many devils had not been too keen on following a fallen angel into battle. However, after Zariel had crushed any opposition underfoot, the remaining soldiers quickly subjugated themselves to her. However, nothing that she had done to these first traitors, could compare to what she planned for the source of this sudden drive:

Elthurel.

Her first betrayal and a grudge, she had not buried eons later.

Her wings, flustered and opened, twitched ever so slightly with barely suppressed bloodlust as Karlach finally stepped into the room behind her. Even without facing her beloved champion, the archduchess could smell the juices dripping off the Tiefling's body. It didn't seem to belong to her.

Zariel spoke: "I figure that your mission was a success." She peered behind herself so that one blazing white eye found Karlach. She looked so puny now - and it wasn't just because she was kneeling on the floor. "Next time, wash that blood off your face before you report. You are drizzling all over the floor. Now report."

RESENTFUL EYES WATCH AS ZARIEL RAISES NEW SOLDIERS . From the teeth of a dragon sprout three new creatures - rogues, by the look of their equipment. Soulless, devoid beasts, mindless creatures created for one purpose - to obey. What a terrible fortune to have befallen them. But they didn't care, they didn't have the capacity for that. They fell immediately before the two of them, and this type of magic had been some Karlach watched in action previously. The power to raise golems for the sake of war, empty soldiers ready to die for a cause they didn't need.

Before them, they had stood. FREE OF THE SOIL BUT BOUND BY A NEW COVENANT . One that Karlach felt tighten around her own throat like a damned noose. Maybe, just maybe, she could slip it soon. Always looking for a way out.

Suddenly, the chilling sound of Zariel resuming her typical form brushed over her giant physique, her shoulders tensing slightly as she watched her revert through the corner of her eye. Her throat bobbed with a swallow, quietly taking in the form of her Mistress at her strongest - and she nods her head as it is explained to her. A good thing to know - just in case she ever finds herself in a wicked bind. Maybe she could raise her own army like that. ONE DAY , SHE MIGHT USE ZARIEL ' S OWN TACTICS AGAINST HER . But that would be a distant prospect.

HER ENGINE SWELLED WITH ABUSED PRIDE UPON BEING CALLED HER CHAMPION . Hers. She was Zariel's - but hopefully not for much longer. She just needed to bide her time. " Yes, Pxedivah. " Came the subdued reply of the tiefling, bowing her head in acquiescence. Those claws dragging against her shoulder felt prideful - and threatening all the same.

Here, she was left to command these roguish few. She would absolutely use this to her advantage. And she absolutely did. UNDER HER COMMAND , KARLACH AMBUSHED THE AMBUSH . Not a single crafty demon left standing - nor Hellrider. She didn't want to have to kill them, people who were sworn to forever fight devils and demons and keep them away from their homes - and Karlach felled them. Axe dripping with blood, she regards them with remorse. They wouldn't even get a proper burial.

It didn't take long before Karlach returned to the Flying Fortress, refueling from the River Styx flowing through the hellish landscape. TORN BY THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF WAR AND ANGUISH . The tiefling was thoroughly soaked in blood and regret as she approached the base, sinking her dripping axe blade into the dirt. She had only lost one of her three minions - though they were all damaged. She closes her eyes and waits at the basin below, arms crossing over her chest - as she orders one of the golems to craft a fire. All too easy of a task in Avernus. She didn't know for how long she needed to wait... And some of her wounds needed cauterized.

[shimmerbeasts]

Silence yawned between them. The throne room was empty, save for Zariel and the little war horse, she had taken a fancy to. Karlach minded her manners and stayed kneeling. Only her hasty breath laboured in the air. Zariel did not tell her to rise. Instead, she waited for the Imp to return with her demanded delivery.

Soon enough, the flapping of wings cut through the air and an Imp flew through the double-winged door. The small, red fiend completely ignored Karlach as it headed straight for Zariel; a pouch held in sharp claws. It hovered mid-air and extended the leather bag towards Zariel with a bow and a quick "Pxedivah".

The archdevil took the item and after checking its content, tied the pouch to her belt. Unlike Nariangela, who was stacked out in full plate metal armour, Zariel donned tattered, thick leather armour, made out of the hide of every creature in Avernus. Her skirt was worn out with gashes, revealing her long, lithe legs, which ended in blackish-red dragon feet with sharp talons. The moment Zariel had taken the pouch, she gestured with her free hand and after another swift bow, the Imp left their presence.

"Rise", Zariel told Karlach. She stepped towards the map and laid her hand upon it. As her eyes glowed brighter, a rumble went through the entire Flying Fortress. The massive mobile siege weapon began to move. Its swift movement was only disrupted by the feeling of a gravitational pull as if the ground you stood on tried to drag you under. Zariel stayed almost immobile as she focussed on moving the Fortress near the ridge, Karlach had spoken off.

The moment they stopped moving, Zariel stepped outside of the command deck, not after giving Karlach a brisk "Come along". They headed out onto the bridge where Nariangela stood guard. The Erinyes scowled at Karlach, fingers tapping restlessly against her spear. Zariel ignored her bridge officer. Her hand rested upon Karlach's shoulders. The touch was light, yet her grasp was firm enough to pulverise bone if she applied the right pressure.

One simple Dimension Door later; and the Archdevil and the Tiefling found themselves on the loose, blood-soaked soil a few feet away from the Flying Fortress, which rested by the Styx's shore. In the distance, low, drawn-out wailing could be heard as the ship used the opportunity to refuel itself.

Zariel opened the pouch and pulled out its contents: Three large dragon teeth, covered in dried-out sinews and blood. Handing the teeth to Karlach, she commanded: "Bury them."

THEIR GASPS OF BREATH WERE ENOUGH TO MAKE THE ROOM SHAKE . In a room brimming with devils of the Hells, Karlach was the most heavily scorned. Nariangela, a greater devil in the hierarchy, snapped at her immediately as soon as she offered her two-cents on the matter. The tiefling feels herself bristle defensively, her thick hands squeezing harder against the edge of the table. A spear was leveled down at her in an instant, the tip sweeping forward and leveled accusingly at the center of her chest - where her infernal engine rumbled and roared just beneath the flesh.

EVERY MANNER OF DEVIL SURROUNDED KARLACH . Barbed and Chain Devils, Orthons and and Horned Devils - the bridge officer, an Erinyes, fully suited in plate armor standing across the table - and Zariel herself. The Archduke of Avernus, seated in her throne as they discuss details of the plan. And by they, she means Zariel and Nariangela. She had no right to speak, but her comment had drawn attention, and it was now or never.

What was even more startling was the fallen angel overriding her commander's accusation. Karlach swallows thickly, her throat bobbing with the action as tension builds in her bones. In her blood. It was as if the room rose by a hundred degrees with just a single phrase, because she could feel the sweat dripping down her face. HEAVIER THAN THAT WAS HER MISTRESS ' GAZE . Focused on her. Then, to the map, and back to her again. The tension was so damn thick you could cleave it with an axe. The archduke's hand tightened against the throne, Karlach thinking for a moment it could shatter, before the towering leader rose to her feet. In an instant, the group of devils dropped to their knees in respect.

Karlach was one of them. Immediately falling to her knee to bow, her burning eyes wide as Zariel's footsteps descend from the throne, joining the rest of the room at her ever-shifting war table. She hated the compliment. She hated the praise. BUT HER ENGINE SANG WITH JOY .

The room was dismissed, the rest of the devils commanded to leave, the commander included - but not Karlach. That made her sweat. The room was vacated, not a single fiend dallying a moment longer, confirming with chimes of affirmation of their duties, before it was empty. DEVOID OF IT ALL BUT A DOG AND HER MASTER .

Karlach remained kneeling before her, her breath just a touch faster with anxiety. This part was the worst. She waited with bated breath for what she would be told next. WHATEVER WOULD HAPPEN NEXT .

[shimmerbeasts]

For a short moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then the ground rustled and shifted where Karlach had buried the teeth. Without warning, a long, sinewy arm with claws burst through the soil. That hand was soon followed by a head, gasping hollowly for breath and a torso. Figures dug themselves out of the ground, one for each tooth. They grunted and growled as they pulled themselves to their feet, staggering with their steps like a newborn.

They were a bit smaller than Karlach, humanoid in shape, yet with a dark reddish brown hue - the same colour as the soil the teeth had been burrowed in. Their faces had underdeveloped, shortened snouts with slit-like nostrils and their eyes lacked any lids, which burned with vile aggression and disturbing subservience. The kind born from having no soul, no identity of yourself and being a vessel, which had to be filled by its maker.

The figures all looked like rogues, dressed in leather armour and equipped with bows, arrows in their quivers and a knife at their belts. Taking note of Karlach and Zariel, they immediately dropped on the ground in respectful bows, though it was hard to say whether they were subservient towards the Tiefling or the Archdevil.

The only warning, Karlach got, that Zariel once more was her looming fifteen feet tall, was the hot breath, ghosting over her head and around her ears. The Archdevil had leaned down and explained like she was hypnotizing a predator: "Dragon teeth have an odd little quirk. Like most things belonging to a magical beast, they are imbued with magical properties. One of those properties is the fact that burying them in any soil, transforms the dragon teeth into not just soldiers, but exactly the type of people, you need for a specific task, provided it is a military-related task."

Her smile was cold, cutting and pleased with herself. "My champion, welcome your scout team for this mission. You are going to be the one who figures out how we best take that fortress at the base of the ridge." Her wings opened, casting long suffocating shadows across Karlach, the rogues and a major part of the ridge. "Report to me once you are done."

The gusts of wind, released by the beating of her wings, were enough to almost throw Karlach and the rogues off balance. Zariel climbed higher and higher into the sky. Her sharp talons at the end of her feet briefly graced Karlach's shoulder before she circled up and headed back for the command deck of her Flying Fortress.

KARLACH WAITED WITH BATED BREATH . Her jaw clenched and teeth ground as she waited, feeling how the sweat drenched her face, her neck. Terror struck directly into her heart engine, as Zariel stood over top of her. The Archduke had taken a more slight form, standing shorter still than Karlach, but she could never get away with looking down upon her mistress. The fucking bitch that owned her. Branded her. She tried her best to keep her breaths quiet, but with the stretching silence, seconds felt like hours. Why was time so distorted in the Hells?

BUT IT WAS THE TENSION . A digging, nasty thing, she felt ready to embrace madness if it lasted longer. But the hasty flapping of an imp's wings brought her attention aside, as the little fiend soared in to deliver the parcel. She heard some light shuffling, assuming it must have been the teeth it delivered. Her ears twitched upon hearing the Infernal speech - a mere mutter from the powerful being.

As soon as she was commanded to rise, she did. The feeling was crushing, like bile pooling in her mouth, while the infernal contraption in her chest whirred with excitement. A HARMONIOUS TONE FOR THE COMMAND OF HER MASTER . She tried to seem bold under that guise of subservience, but her tail remained between her legs - ashamed. Scared. Eyes like pools of molten gold flickered up to her commander as she rose to her feet, straightening her back out as she stood before the devil. A telepathic command for the ever-changing map appearing over the table, conjured with some sort of twisted divination magic to show active developments - startling accuracy pertaining to the landscape of the first level of the Hells. Her stomach lurched into her throat as it began to move - like a bridge swaying under heavy winds. It had thrown her off for the first few years, but this was her home. Ten years in Faerûn, a chain devil had told her when they returned from their summon of service when she painfully convinced him for information. Ten years in Faerûn, but it felt like decades in the Hells.

Her body didn't age at the rate the days changed - and unfortunate side effect, to fully prologue her suffering in this place. But it allowed her to bide her time, to wisen up. Now most others thought three times before fucking with her; Zariel's champion. THE FURY OF AVERNUS . A tool for a war she had no part in.

The Flying Fortress lurched to a halt and the map had shifted again, right over the ridgeline she had brought attention to. Her feet moved before she could even think about it. HER BODY OBEYED THE HAND THAT YANKED HER LEASH . Driven by the hellish engine in her chest. Her heavy footfalls pace behind Zariel, obediently following up the rear, and she pays no mind to the Erinyes. Her throat bobs with her swallow as that powerful hand, capable of defying gods and felling cities touches her shoulder.

In a flash, the two are taken to the outside, her worn leather boots standing against burning soil where the shadow of the Flying Fortress looms over her. LIKE A BAD OMEN . She knows well how it operates now - has it damn near memorized. Fueling, for the battle to come. An invasion. A slaughter.

Wordlessly, Karlach pulls her hand up to take the teeth from the hand of the Archduke, and she takes a few steps forward. The tiefling drops to her knees, immediately digging her thick fingers into the dirt, clawing it up and raking it aside. This could only be bad. She was certain of that much. But she didn't have it in her to defy, not now. NOT WHEN FREEDOM WAS SO FUCKING CLOSE . Her other hand drops the teeth in, one after the other, before she claws at the dirt to cover the teeth. Smoothing her palm against the blood-soaked soil, she rises to her feet and takes another step back, where she is just barely behind Zariel's left shoulder. Falling into complacency with the warlord, as always.