Netherworld IC

Many thousand's of years ago, during the apocoliptic war between altantis & lemoria, a gateway by the incredible magic in use by both sides rippped a hole in our reality to the fearsome and wonderous nether realm. The nether realm was filled with both great wonder, and great horror. Now, centuries later, man is once again tampering with forces beyond thier control and have once again re-opened the proverbial gates of hell. Most would ask why, and the answer is simple-power. In the nether realm, there is a powerfull substance called "vathorium", left over by the now dead atlantians that has the potential to power cities of millions for a hundred years..and its totally safe. However, the so called "demons" also prize this material-to them it's food, helping them evolve into more powerfull forms & powering thier magic. Neither side is willing to back down, and both are well armed. Conflict is inevitable, the only question is who will win.

OOC is netherworld-t15309.html#p414074


Urdgnaz, lord of fungus and current holder of the blackblood swamp, sat quite still as the human convoy passed..until about halfway through when he exploded into motion, his acidic tendrills scooping screaming humans up and pulling them into his mass, even as his roots stabbed into the various vehicles. The humans fought back of course, but kinetic damage was'nt a problem for urdgnaz, however, the energy weapons were. Urdgnaz flipped the largest vehicle over and quickly used his earth powers to lash out at the source of his pain. Festering tentacles shot from the soupy ground, trying to pull anything they could into the morass. After only about five miniutes, the fight was over, and his servants pulled themselves up from the earth to feast on the still warm flesh and blood, after all..organic material was best for food, and for growing spawn.

Daciana stood with her pet at her side watching a human scooting party walk through her territory. Her and her minions ran down the mountain that sat in the middle of the Forest of Death. The forest was where she ruled and one thing she hated was humans thinking they had a right to be there.

She ran straight for the leader on the scouting party she jumped and her arm changed in mid air she landed on the man decapitating him as they went down. Her tail lashed out cutting through the man trying to sneak up on her. She looked around and watched as the others tour in to the men the animals did the job quick ripping the thoughts of the ones they attacked. She watched some of her minions go down. She turned and shoved her sword into a man and picked up another and brought him to her mouth, she bit him and tossed him to the side where he screamed in pain as the toxin did its work. She shook the dead human of her arm and turned to survey the damage done to her minions. She counted 3 dead and 4 wounded. Not bad but not good either. She watched as her pet came back to her side and sat.

“Tracer, Kari, Greta, and Reaper clean up this mess and do it right or you know the consequences.” She turned knowing they would do their job, and looked to the others.

“The rest of you we’re heading back I want 2ed patrol to scout out the area for stragglers.”

“Yes mistress.” This was their response.

She turned and dropped to all fours and ran for her fortress with a smile on her face.

Ryaia watched the human ship sail over the sea that was her home. Ryaia didn't mind the humans but she didn't want them messing up her sea. But that was all they seemed to do. More and more of her fish died to feed the humans bellies and now they were digging up the ice caves that held vathorium. The Sea had been clam and peaceful opening itself for the humans but they had missused Ryaia's gift. Now a flood was coming. The flood of a nymph's wrath.

"Tell me, my precious...how doth the Gardens fare?"

The single cataract white eye in the cadaver's face opens slowly, staring up at what could have once been considered a beautiful face. Now vines twisted their way around the succubus's visage, framing it in thorny bliss, at least in Zulothar's opinion. He was biased, though...he'd created her. His right hand, the only hand that still somewhat resembled some semblance of humanity, reaches out, petting down her smooth cheek to the thorny vine driven into her face at her chin, pricking his finger on it.

"The Gardens run rampant with devilweed and man-eating willow...as you requested. Our gardeners worked day and night to ensure that it grew to your specifications."

Her blackened lips spill a voice far more beautiful than one would expect in a room full of dead and rotting trees...or so they would appear to be. Wraithwood was a tricky substance. Hard to cut and even harder once treated, it proved effective weapons for his masses and he surrounded himself with it. The succubus crosses her arms over her bare bosom, as undead as her master, which was obvious in her cold flesh, turning her rump towards her creator. She knew he enjoyed her frame...it was why she was his favorite, her pointed tail flicking as cloven hooves click on the stone floor as he sits upon his throne.

"Good, my sweet, good. The humans will think twice before attempting to use the Gardens as a safe passage...or they will once they realize that the "kudzu" isn't kudzu at all. When it starts to crawl up their brittle and frail bodies, crushing and choking, shattering skeletons and closing windpipers. And when they dash for the cover of the willow trees and their weeping branches...they will think they are safe. Then the tiny poison barbs upon the tiny and numerous branches will become apparent as they twist and jerk upwards. Gloriously shredded bodies and that lovely crimson nectar from their veins shall be all that is left of the first fools to brave our newly grown Death Gardens. Soon we'll have to expand our growth to the Valley of the Damned. That'll put us in competition with Urdgnaz and his damned swamps, though."

The Rot Farmer trails off for a moment, patting his lap with that braided left arm of his, his succubus attendant giving a soft sigh. It wasn't one of dislike, however, for she appreciated it when her master granted her the joy of sitting on his lap. She wasn't like the last attendant he'd had. The poor little reborn nymph had decided to act as if she didn't like sitting on the cadaverous being's dessicated lap. Zulothar hadn't taken that well. Not at all. By the time he'd finished up with the little nymph, her reborn body had been unrecognizable. He hadn't even used any of his special talents. He'd just grabbed her arms and started breaking bones. He'd snapped her arms at the wrists, halfway up the forearms, at the elbows, then in the middle of her biceps. That hadn't been all, however.

The nymph by then had been screaming in both horror and pain that she was to die again. Pulling in opposite directions as he'd held her wrists, the nymph could likely have been heard in that fungus lord's swamp as her shoulders ripped open, the bones taking longer than the flesh to give way. When he'd ripped her arms away from her torso, he'd tossed them to his reborn demon dogs, each pet snapping them up without arguing. The poor creature still hadn't seen the end of it then...no, she still had much pain to go as Zulothar had grabbed her thighs, pulling them apart, then pushing them up towards her shoulders after pulling them far enough apart. The cracking of her pelvis had echoed around his small castle, her screams even louder. It was then that the Rot Farmer had tired of her screams, jamming his fist into her mouth before ripping her lower jaw off without so much torture as before...he just wanted her quiet.

What happened next had shaken even his hardest of his lieutenants. Zulothar had proceeded to hold down the broken nymph and ram his hand into...well, they'd looked away at the wet squish as his fist sank in, but the last any had watched was his fist descending for the area between her thighs. Those who had been present still told tales of how the body had writhed as he'd reached inside and pulled out her innards from below, stringing them out across the floor in a macabre work of art. The last removed from the poor creature had been her reborn heart, still beating in his palm as he'd closed that thorny appendage around it, slowly squeezing until the organ quite literally exploded in his hand, spraying those present with gore and causing his bloodrose eye to bloom. It was the last time, as well, that anyone in the Rot Farmer's army questioned him as such.

Now all of his creatures obeyed, the succubus on his lap curling her tail around her body, laying her horned head back upon his shoulder despite the thorns that coated the vine arm. She was used to the pain...her own vines were covered in thorns. Every creature was conditioned to be used to pain, her cloven hooved feet pulled up into his lap, as well. She was smaller than her master, something that he appreciated, his arm dropping into her lap. And so Zulothar sat, driving his left arm down into the soil beside his throne. A feeler vine grew from him slowly like a root, searching his gardens by tapping into the root systems of his demonic plants. Of all the lords, Zulothar could be the one most accused of loving beauty despite the fact that his body itself was as hideous a humanoid body as they come.

"And so we wait and watch, my sweet."

Daciana walked through the fortress and in to the main room. The room was huge and spacious in one corner there were chins for when she felt like taking prisoners. There are sculls in little niches in the wall; some were so old they were falling apart. She walked to her seat on the dais at the end of the room, the chair its self was made of bone. She laid her right hand on her pets head and stroked her head. She watched as Tracer, Kari, Greta, and Reaper came in to the room.

“My lady the messss isss taken care of, asss you requesssted. We brought the head of their leader back asss your trophy.” Reaper said.

“Very good.” She looked Reaper over he, like herself, was both un-dead and animal but he was of snake origin. She looked at the others they were also of snake origin and that’s why they were the ones she had chosen. She held out her left hand and the head was placed in it.

“This will make a nice addition to the collection. You all did well I hope so you can leave now.” With that she dismissed them. She stood and walked over to a niche in the wall and placed the head in it. She watched as beetles swarmed the fresh flesh. She watched them taring at it for a while then returned her attention to the patrol that came back with the few humans that had escaped.

“Wonderful we now have our dinner.” She walked over and grabbed one of the humans and tour in to the flesh and started eating her meal. She watched as the others fought for the rest of the meat. A few of the male wolves ganged up on a female who was pregnant. She had then flying across the room in seconds. These males had done this sort of thing onece before killing another male, but to gange up on a female that was going to reproduce and give her more to rule, that pissed her off to the point that she was going to kill them.

“Killing a male who picks a fight with you is one thing but to try to kill a female who had her share that she fought for and you come and try to kill her and take the meat is a different thing all together.” She walked over to them while she talked and the others watched. When she reached them she used her tail and snaped it on there necks braking them. She tossed them to the others for more meat. Saving someone was not normal for her but she decided that she owed the female because she was one of her many, many nieces. Her brothers were dead because she had won in the fight to be ruler so she had killed them after they were done breading. She wanted strong males and females to fight for her in quest to rule more of the world.The others went back to eating when she went and sat to finish her meal.

Crony had recently heard rumors that the late Straborae VI was now served Zulothar as an undead slave. If his respect for his former master was any ess great he would thought that her fate was quite humorous, because he believed that he would rule over Zulothar and the other elders one day which meant that the succubus would be his property by the transitive property.

The situation reminded him of an old aphorism that he heard the previous week from some a ragtag team of human scout before he ambushed them."Me casa es su casa. Your vassels are my vassels" The Neverworlder ejaculated, thinking that they were both parts of same phrase and not just the scout rewording the statement that was made about a capsule filled with liquid refreshment. He started to chuckle at how easily he was able to take that group out. He must have improved significantly since it seemed as if the group was suffering from hypoxia when he was fighting them: a highly improbable scenario considering the elevation. He proposed to himself that it was the effect of newfound power ability that he had not mastered. With an increasing number of defense mechanisms at his disposal drive back those "gringos" would be a snap.

Gringo was one of his special vocabulary words; it was one of the English words to which Crony did yet not know the definition to, but He was sure that it was insult, and that was all the knowledge that he need to know about it. Still, He wanted to learn more about the human's strange language and culture but that was very difficult considering the war; He could only learn about their ways of war, because that was the only way they were observable at that period. It was such a shame that they after his precious vathorium.

The Netherworlder started to ponder as he sat down underneath a dilapidated tree of species very similar to Terrian redwood, and grew exclusively in a lush forest that bordered the territories of the two plant elders: a Switzerland or Poland of sorts.

Eventually the pondering lead to success, but not after approximately thirty nine head and crotch scratches. If one were to use scratches the as a unit of measurement then it might be safe to assume that it was an extensive period of meditation. More to the point, Crony had concocted a plan to quench his thirst for knowledge of humans. He would simply capture one of the queer creatures, and keep him or her as a pet and lab rat to study. It was so simple that it could not possibly go wrong, right?

"Eureka!" The future kidnapper exclaimed as he jumped up in pure excitement of his epiphany. Quickly he grabbed one the sturdy branches in mid air before his cranium could collide with it; Euphoria would not get the better of him this day.

Ryaia came from the sea springing onto the deck of the human ship. Soon a horde of water elementals and fish people followed her. The humans looked on in fear as Ryaia spoke, "I gave you my gift but you have missused it now you will pay."
Ryaia raised her hands up and the 8 large arms of her Kraken came from the sea and closed on the ship crushing it as Ryaia and her army slew the humans. Those humans that jumped from the ship only lived to see the jaws of sharks or the teeth of the kraken.

Ryaia stood on the back of the whale that was now her ride and raising her ice trident she ordered "To the docks"
The flood was now coming.

"What do you think?"
"It's nice, I haven't had something like this at home for a long time,"
"I imagined the same,"
Kianne was pretending to look out the window, listening to the man, a human, chatting away about how vathorium was the future for mankind, how did she get here, and how brutish some things were in this land.

How did the Gods let him in? Kianne had thought earlier, while she brewed her 'special' tea. She glanced back at the man. He wasn't bad looking, taller than herself, golden-brown hair down to his shoulders, well-built, smart too. Such a shame. He was her latest experiment for a poison she'd bought from one of Zulothar's undead gardeners.

The man smiled cheekily at her, and she was sure that his eyes flickered to her chest for a second. She was filled with disgust, but before she could turn him into a pile of ashes, the poison took hold. The man stood, he must have seen the flames jump into Kianne's fists due to the terrified expresson on his face. He turned a pale shade of green before dropping to the ground, the fits had started before he even hit the ground. He started to wretch, just as the last convulsion shook his body. He threw up violently onto the floor, trying to get up, trying to get away from that woman, that demon.

Kianne was enjoying this, that man wasn't a living creature, he was an experiment, something easily disposed of. His thoughts called her names, some she understood and others she didn't. She grew speechless as the paralysis took hold of him, something she had not been expecting. His body stiffened as Kianne grew closer, taking care to to step in the former contents of his stomach.
"Bitch," he hissed, before the poison reached his heart and he died. Kianne laughed, and dragged him around to the back of the house. She was going to find out how this poison worked.