Enemies of Iron

Last call...

My excitement was a force manifesting itself within me, it was powerful, I could barely contain it. It could also have been agonizing fear, it was difficult to tell. In Cyncidea it had been the same.

A massive powerful demon stood before us, it seemed angry at Abbadon. His minions, two smaller and twisted demons glared at us with hate filled red coal eyes. My mind picked up the stray thoughts of conversation. The demon must be speaking with Abbadon using telepathy!

I was unaware of where the demons had come from. We had just emerged from the decaying Vault of the Elders at the far west end of the Lost Valley. I had still been blinking from the harsh glare of the red sun, when I had begun to make out the silhouette of the demons now before my now clear eyes.

I believe we will be alright. We had already bested four of the smaller demons only hours prior. I had seen the might of my companions in action. The mighty Thaddeus who could slay undead with a simple burst of his spirit energy, the swift Muligan, a dome who moved about the battlefield on his wolf Lupo swifter than any sandstorm and who could withstand the mighty assault of two griffons for an unreasonable length of time. The weaker links of this band had already perished, Sepheroth cut to ribbons before my eyes, his tiefling smile starched far too wide by the talon that ripped through his mouth. Halnock of Ixion had perished in my rescue, for which I am most grateful, but being good gets you killed, that’s the lesson my father always taught me and that lesson was being ingrained upon me here and now in these very trying days.

Abbadon seemed to be conversing with the goat headed demon. By the Immortals that spear looks big, curse the luck, that Thaddeus was not here. He could have poked that poxy demon right back. I wonder what Abbadon has to say to it. Perhaps its an ancestor of his, Abbadon looks like he is a mongrel of the planes that’s for certain.

Curses, they attack, the twisted man sized ones are rushing forward. The big one is twirling his spear…Ugh, that feels bad…..

—Last thought’s of Dorn before collapsing from pain, trauma, and blood loss…transferred by telepathic communication to his rapidly diminishing companions…


Gilgamesh Gilgamesh

I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.