The Enmity of Scolrys, Part XXV: Battle Eternal

Maddened gibbering and discordant clicks arose from the flaming crucible of unformed Chaos as the Mad God sculpted new servants to waylay Its newly-empowered assailant. Distorted silhouettes emerged in that conflagration of no hue, lining up together shoulder to shoulder as if in mockery of Bamathis’ disciplined domain of military might. Pale as corpses and eerily humanoid, the creatures took one collective step forward and lifted their countlessly jointed limbs in primitive challenge.

Immortal Strife sneered as He looks upon His opponents, finding each of them equally wanting.

Drunk on power and its latent violence, the Lord of Battle lunged forward like argentate lightning. Before these makeshift soldiers could do aught but march forth, Bamathis cleared the distance and hewed through several as if they were wheat before the keen edge of a scythe. Working brilliant, bloodied butchery with His savage strikes, the Lost Lord cut down all who opposed Him, callous laughter spilling forth from His throat as lurid blood wept from the wounds He inflicted.

Alive now with the thrill of power and conflict, Strife Immortal unleashed the silver fire of His domain. Seething novae of argent essence burst forth with Bamathis at its center, every swing of His bloodied blade summoning countless crashing waves of pure rage and battleborn mania. Alien appendages and quadruple-jointed arms sizzled to ash upon cosmic winds as they reached out for Him, one and all too feeble to make more than a futile, token effort in the name of Fundamental Chaos. With all of Sapience as His witness, mighty Bamathis carved through countless legions of Faceless Madness. A mask of steaming, glimmering blood dappled the Immortal’s face as He tore His puny foes to burning shreds, His anguish and frustration let loose as howls that rang throughout the outer realms in a wordless demand for His quarry’s presence.

Gentle light blossomed at Bamathis’ side, its soft brilliance twisting to yield to the presence of Euthymius, the Heart of Sapience. Sensing Their fellow’s fervour, Immortal Morale bestowed yet another gleaming boon upon Bamathis and turned Their mask-face to look upon the bleak vista that lay ahead – and the legions of foes barring Their way forward.

Subverting the Mad God’s domain for a brief moment of epiphanic violence, Bamathis plunged His chaotic surroundings into the harsh crucible of His virtue.

Manic rage burned in Strife’s eyes, the uncontrollable power weeping from His vision like lustrous mist. With Euthymius not far behind, the berserk Immortal employed brutal strength and traumatic tides of effulgent essence to carve a path through gibbering madness and profane flesh, leaving a river of twisted gore in Their wake that seeped through cosmic space. Severed limbs flew. Eldritch screeches of utmost agony rang out as a symphony to deific butchery. Blood slaked earth without solidity, quenched fire without colour or heat, tainted unformed winds lacking sound and sensation, creating for scant moments a new shard of Chaos sanctified by Divine combat and its unquestionable Lord.

With the twisted rabble thoroughly dispatched, Strife and Morale closed in upon the towering impossibility of crazed Lanu Du. Lashing tentacles and tendrilous protrusions emerged to stymie the virtuous warpath, but withered and quailed before the crushing force of two unleashed domains. In an echo of purpose lost, Bamathis gouged into the Mad God’s eldritch proportions with His sword, its length burning with Immortal fire. Using both hands, He tore through pulsating flesh and throbbing organs, the argent brilliance of Strife made manifest searing through it all to carve a path of dead, retreating sinew and twisted muscle. The outer realms trembled and shook loose countless feeble shards that dissolved to salve this grisly wound upon Fundamental Chaos, Its heart shifting and swelling to relocate somewhere else within Its body-made-demesne.

As Their mad Foe retreated, Bamathis and Euthymius rushed forward in dogged pursuit. Each step through floods of steaming ichor echoed throughout Sapience as nauseating sloshes, Their pace fashioning a putrid rhythm that finally trailed off as They crossed immeasurable planar distance and disappeared into the waiting dark.

Five Immortal silhouettes emerged into view then, Their collective essence casting a shroud too brilliant to allow discernment of detail. After a brief conference, They strode forth as one in hopes of catching up to the bold pair. The window snapped shut with a sickening screech that rattled within all mortal skulls soon after, the natural order of planar separation asserting itself as the Spiral reaffirms the precision of its arrangement and boundaries.

With their first experiment a success, the Theocracy turned their eyes towards other applications for their captured gremlins…

Penned by my hand on Falsday, the 23rd of Slyphian, in the year 3 AC.