|
I have demons in mine. They are mainly referenced though save for the possessed Axe, Ebonheart.
“Are you sure they're here, these allies of yours?” Wrasse asked as he steered Obsidian through the Bramblerock, a huge forest in the north eastern mountains of Kellendross.
“Yes, but further beyond the haunted ring.” Gus replied, Etherel hanging easily in the hand of the old Nightblade. “Few ever come in here.” He continued as they passed beneath the whipping branches of a willow that swayed without the aid of wind. “The goat herders in this region tell terrible tales of the horrors of this forest. Unnaturally large wolves and bears are said to prowl the shadows beneath the great evergreens at dusk, their eyes afire and their breath glowing with the essences of devoured souls. Strange calls are said to sound throughout the night, always followed by a heavy mist that is rumored to be the ghosts of a fallen evil, slain in the dark ages of the world when demons still roamed, before they were hunted and cast into the third firmament by the Laelin.”
“What are Laelin?” Wrasse asked.
“The bright one’s servants, messengers and soldiers, they cannot be killed by any means mortals possess, even the demons don’t stand a chance against them.”
“Have you ever seen one?”
Gus shook his head with a short chuckle, “No...” He stopped and nearly fell from Obsidian’s saddle at the sight of what lay before them.
The trees had oddly begun to thin and a great clearing could be seen surrounded by a radius of fallen trees which had been blasted down and turned to stone. But that wasn’t what had caused Gus to silence, for standing in the center of the clearing were two great statues. One was at least twelve feet tall, grotesquely horned and its dog-like face snarling in its eternal stance. Great stone reptilian wings protruded from its naturally arched back and a long, once writhing tail curved gracefully behind it. A mighty axe was in its giant taloned fist and was being swung down upon the sword of the other statue. This one was more human in appearance, but his features were too graceful, too pure to be of mortal descent, that and the fact that there were feathered wings protruding from slots in the back of its armor. He was around nine feet tall and stood unafraid when the axe fell to be blocked by his hanging guard all those millennia ago.
“A Laelin!” Gus whispered reverently, “locked in the last battle with one of the greatest of demons!”
Wrasse had by now dismounted and walked slowly, cautiously around the feet of these two battling ancients, the stone grass beneath him crunched and ground beneath his feet. He looked to the ground beneath them and saw something strange. “Gus! Look at this!”
Beneath the feet of the demon grew writhing briars and thorns that were slowly climbing the muscular legs of the otherworldly beast, not to mention nearly every poisonous plant that Wrasse knew, and several others he didn’t had sprouted from between the three clawed feet. While beneath the Laelin grew flowers, herbs and plants of healing. “What could cause this?” The Shadowshaft asked of the old man who was still marveling at the moment which should have passed thousands of years ago.
“Their auras.” Gus answered, “Demons are pure evil while Laelins, are pure good. Plants and herbs of killing are naturally attracted to demonic auras while herbs of healing are attracted to good auras. That could also explain the mists that rise every night.”
“What caused them to turn to stone?”
“Some demonic suicide spell most likely. The demon’s soul is right now in the third firmament while the Laelin’s is with the bright one. Only their shells remain.”
Wrasse let out a long low whistle, “Laelins are big!”
Gus laughed, “If you were sent from the Bright one to fight the hordes of the nether world, you’d want to be big too.”
“How far are we into the haunted ring?”
“Around half way. But I’m sure I would remember something like this.” He said as he waved his hand over the dueling giants. “This isn’t the same rout I took last time I was here.”
Obsidian looked over the ancient duel a few times, gave the reptilian equivalent of a yawn and lumbered up to Wrasse to be mounted. When the two were once again atop the rumbling lizard Wrasse asked, “You’ve been here before?”
Gus nodded as he brushed a whipping branch out of his way, “Once, with my master. He had ‘dealings’ in these woods. Let’s hurry, we don’t want to be caught out here in the dark.” Wrasse gave Obsidian his head and the stone grey Cliffstrider gracefully flowed and writhed between the trees, his riders holding fast. As they went further through the thick evergreen perimeter, known as the haunted ring, the woods began to thin to the point that the steadily setting sun shone down in its golden light behind them, casting long shadows against the trees and stones.
Gus hopped down from Obsidian as it became dark, “We're through the haunted ring now, we’ll wait here till the moon rises then continue on.”
Obsidian lay down where he stood and Wrasse began gathering the makings of a fire but Gus halted him, “Though we may be beyond the ring, there are still eyes which we don’t want looking our way, no fire.”
Wrasse nodded and curled up within the circle created by the tip of Obsidian’s thick muscular tail touching his fanged snout, they had not long to wait before the moon rose and illuminated the forest with its mystical pale blue glow. They remounted and continued their course.
_________________
Never is a warrior so strong as when he is on his knees.
I practice not magic, I use only what will one day be called Science.
When in doubt, use a hammer... When that doesn't work use a BIGGER hammer!
|
Pathetic, I know. Tolstoy used demons in his short stories with a very interesting effect. Ivan the Fool comes to mind. Another version of demons (which some might be bothered by) is The Soldier and Death. I like it. *shrug* 
