Setting
Packs of balguras galloped apishly at the front. The hulking demonic orangutans pounded their fists into the earth like hooves. Spittle ran down their drooping tusked jaws while their eyes burned with savage madness. Goristros, towering four-armed minotaurs, lumbered through the sea of demons. Their upper arms resembled massive pincers, while their lower arms ended in clenched fists. Dark intelligence burned in their eyes even as large palanquins filled with raving dretches adorned their backs.
The rhythmic thunder of hellforged iron followed the demonic stampede. Ranks upon ranks of red-skinned devils marched shoulder-to-shoulder with wicked glaives clenched tightly in their gauntlets. Fiery red tendrils spilled out from beneath their helmets like beards. Long reptilian tails swayed in rhythm to the drum-wielding imps at their rear.
If the sun dared to shine upon the Cursed Realm it would have been blotted out by the wretched black demons that infested its sky. The air reeked with death and horror as flocks of gnarled humanoid vultures circled the army below them. They continuously unleashed ear-splitting shrieks in their eagerness for blood. Chasmes, unspeakable crossings of humanoids and flies, flew beside their carrion cousins. A sickening drone rumbled from the combined might of their wings like an approaching thunderstorm. Flocks of spinagons, armed with forked spears and razor sharp spines, flanked the aerial horde. Their sharp eyes peered through the fire and ash of the realm and kept watch over the fiendish army as it marched.
Morthos glanced to his sides where several hooded figures stood behind him. His honor guard, clad in black plate, observed the Dark Legion as it marched deeper into the realm. Oily black wings were folded across their bodies like cloaks. Finally, the Dark Lord turned to address the one to his right.
"Is everything in position?" Morthos demanded.
The figure merely nodded in assent.
"Good." the pit fiend sneered. "Inform the Muhari that it is almost time to strike. Tell them that, when the shrieks of the vrocks and the roars of the balguras begin to echo across the sands, the honor of first blood will fall to them."
The honor guard nodded once more before spreading its raven-like wings and taking flight. Its ebony armor gleamed in the hellfire even as it shot through the air like a bolt of black lightning.
"Come!" Morthos roared as he and his remaining guard spread their wings. "Let us show these foolish Princes the true might of the Dark Legion. Let us show them the folly of standing against the Emperor and all of His glory!"
"For the Emperor!" they cried in unison before taking flight.
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