Dretch Incursion

AK510-39 Cool Summer End Week 3
[Charon Guiding, Shale Resting, Cycles Watching]

Cogaday (Night)

A dark red storm raged across the broken land. The clouds seethed and boiled above the blackened ground below. Maggots writhed in agony on the carcass of a poisoned beast. He ate them. On the edge of his dull consciousness he could sense their anguish and this was almost as satisfying to him as their putrid taste. Maw had a quiet, undisturbed notion that he was once more than this. More than a drooling, hateful, small, lump of flesh with sharpened teeth eating poisonous rot and roaming the shattered landscape looking for something to kill. Every day was filled with despair and frustration that he was too weak and pathetic to vent his wrath on anything of consequence. Every day was filled with hate. Hadn't he once been a killer? His ineffectual mind was cursed with hazy half formed memories of such things, as if some inept psychic had casually wiped his memory leaving only enough of it to taunt him with impressions better times. Was he being punished. Yes. That was it he realised. He didn't know why but he knew he deserved it. But he could do nothing about it and the painful futility of his existence began to eat at him and he remembered that the same revelation came to him endlessly. Only all consuming anger could move his thoughts from this awful truth so the cycle of rage began again. With almost no effort the fury overtook him and he had to destroy something. He hurled the maggot covered bowels he had been eating at one of his companions, who stared venomously at him, while the stinking larva ridden excrement dripped down his face. He screamed, infuriated and the inevitable combat began once more. Claw slashed against rubbery face. Teeth clamped onto scabby arms. But neither could inflict any serious damage on the other. The two obese bloated figures rolled on the corpse strewn ground surrounded by a mob of their kind. A collective bloodlust was growing. A riot of untamed violence was about to break out among the dretch.

"Get back in line you horrible filth!" roared their commander Illh'asa'thruk'intro'mlai, a massive hulking figure weighing over half a ton and towering over the dretch. To give weight to his order he picked up one of the dretch standing in a circle around the brawlers, bit off one of it's legs and threw it at Maw.
Maw dodged the leg and scrambled to get back into formation. Thruk was completely psychotic and delighted into tormenting every dretch in the platoon. They were all terrified of him. Not least Daq, whose dark green blood sprayed all over the bitter rusted stone. He squealed in pain and terror.
"What the Feo did you do that for you Risen bastard?" he wailed, clutching at the gushing stump. Everyone winced, you didn't call Thruk a Risen, not unless you loved pain. Thruk smiled at the pathetic figure writhing in agony screaming curses at him.
"Oh, I am so sorry your Highness," Thruk apologized, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He reached down and picked up Maq's bloated body, "I didn't realise that I was in the presence of such an important guest."
With a gruesome gristly sound he slowly pulled Maq's arms out of their sockets.
"I'm going to rip off your head you Risen bastard!" screamed Maq's strangled voice.
Thruk was impressed, while the insults were pathetic, the little dretch's anger was powerful. This kind of ferocity was just what the army needed, the dretch deserved a promotion he decided. The tendons in Maq's left arm were marginally weaker and so they broke first. The arm was wrenched away from dretch's body and dark green blood sprayed the onlookers. Maq's boiling rage drove him beyond sane limits and he continued to hurl abuse at his tormentor. His remaining leg flailed, trying to find Thruk's face.
Thruk was rarely impressed, least of all by muck like these dretch but this one was special. He was destined for great things. Thruk had little time for destiny.
He knelt down beside a large jagged rock and rested Maq's head against it. Then he placed his hands gently on either side of the wailing dretch's head, lifted it slightly, smiled and smashed it into the rock. Maq died instantly.
The ruined body slowly turned to black ooze. The ooze began to bubble and all manner of body parts boiled up from the dark living mess. All were silenced by the beautiful power of Athru at work. Then a form began to dominate. From out of the corrupted primordial ooze rose a gaunt humanoid figure dripping with blood colored slime. A single horn bent forwards from the centre of it's leather skinned skull.
"Well done Maq'asa!" Thruk congratulated the disoriented dretch on his promotion to Babau, "Get this horrible lot in line. We've got a job to do!"
The dretch moved quickly, their fear of Thruk driving them forward. To slake his overpowering thirst for revenge, Maq'asa quickly killed one of the dretch, his powerful talons darting through it's eyes. There was no abyssal re-incarnation for that pathetic whelp, it had died quaking instead of using it's anger. The Prison punished weakness.
Maq'asa hurried to keep up with the others.

It was only minutes later when the calling came. A summoner on the material plane of Talamh! A dark greasy red portal opened up in front of him and he was pulled irresistibly through it. A feeble looking creature, covered with dark purple tendrils of energy had called him. A grimweird. He was offering a binding to the material plane in exchange for service. Maq'asa was more than willing, but wanted to see what was on offer before he decided whether to betray this fool.
A chosen cleric entered the summoning chamber. The grimweird's concentration lapsed before the binding conduit could be established fully. Maq'asa was hurled back across the planes to The Prison. No! He had to get to Talamh, damn that priest! He refused to let the connection go and his anger was powerful. It came to his aid again. By sheer force of rage he held on to the conduit. But slowly and inevitably it was slipping through his fingers. There were some things even anger could not achieve.
Then the miracle. A chaotic uncontrolled flux of energy surged along the evaporating connection and smashed into The Prison. The positive divine energy of Croi overpowered the ancient destructive energy of Feo and the grimweird's spirit was smashed. The energies took on a lives of their own as The Prison fueled their chaotic destructive battle. The grimweird's spirit was bound to the summoning energy that had sustained him in his undeath and it lashed out. The grimweird's fury fed Maq'asa's terrible purpose and lent him the strength to hold the portal open. The DeDannan summoning circle at the other end granted it the stability it needed to hold the energy in place. A permanent portal was formed.

Thruk watched in amazement. To him it seemed that Maq'asa had spontaneously created a permanent portal to Talamh. Not even a demon lord could do that! What the risen was going on? He was worried. Maq'asa wanted revenge against him and The Prison itself seemed to grant him strange new powers. He was sure he could kill him, but after the display of power he had just witnessed he wasn't willing to risk Maq'asa returning as a Balor or something even more powerful. This was not good. In The Prison it was always the wrong time to show fear. He decided to make light of the power displayed and to assert his power.
"Alright you maggots! Get your short fat arses through that portal!"
Not one of the dretch moved. He nodded to Maq'asa who killed one, quickly and enthusiastically with his razor-sharp claws. Thruk grabbed one, broke it's arm and hurled it through the portal.
"Move!"
The dretch shuffled forward through the portal, their fear of Thruk outweighing their fear of the unknown. Maw's dim brain sensed that a bad day was about to get a whole lot worse.

When he arrived on the material plane the others were already pounding on the armor of some hated Chosen creature. It had been sickened by the glorious clouds of green gas they had exhaled. Maw took a deep breath, Talamh was a strange alien place and the gas was comforting to him. A glowing red symbol on the wall nearby gabbed his attention. It was a magical chosen symbol, he could feel it. Instinctively he lashed out with his own magic, projecting his fear at it. He felt foolish when his mind caught up with his instinct and berated him for wasting his fear magic against a symbol. Then he was pulled through the shunt.
He appeared in a long well lit hallway. There was no gas here and it felt strange. He inhaled, ready to breathe the gas out into the hallway. A Chosen champion came thundering down the corridor and with one powerful blow cut off his head.

The battle had quickly turned against them after Sir Eagon's impressive decapitating strike. The strange demonic creatures had filled the chamber with poison gas and more were swarming through the shunt. Sir Eagon and Ivellios were unable to do anything but retch. Appleby and Charmer were still in the fight and holding their breath but both arrow and staff were bouncing off the creature's rubbery magical hides and only their most powerful blows were having any effect. They weren't killing them quickly enough. Worse still, Todd had disappeared when the battle had started and Vedic Tanner was nowhere to be seen. When they realised that the Vedic must still be in the summoning chamber beyond the shunt, they knew something had to be done quickly.

Finally, as Appleby and Charmer were slowly forced back by their foes, Ivellios and Sir Eagon recovered from their retching fits. Ivellios called upon the power of Tine's flame and conjured a wall of fire across the hall to block their assailants.
"These creatures are dretch," Ivellios shouted to his companions, "They can endure a considerable amount of heat, but this wall should hold them back. We need to charge through the wall, punch through their lines, activate the shunt and rescue the Vedic. Everyone got that?"
They all nodded. Sir Eagon, backed up by the ranger and the druid, ran through the wall of fire. The pain was intense but was over in the blink of an eye and they survived. They slammed into one of the snarling blubbery creatures and smashed it into the far wall. Ivellios slipped through the newly created hole in the enemy lines and reached the shunt. Before the dretch could react he activated it and pulled his companions through.

Tim Tanner was being badly gouged and bitten by a swarm of dretch when they materialized in front of the shunt inside the summoning chamber. The room was filled with the familiar cloud of stinking poison gas and was crowded with dretch.
Their attention was drawn to a jagged rent in the fabric of reality, glaring at them from the middle of the chamber. The air was slick with evil and hatred throbbed through from The Prison. More dretch were filing through. The battle was joined once more. Sir Eagon and Appleby went to relieve the Vedic who was battling for his life, while Charmer stayed to defend Ivellios. Ivellios didn't register any of this. His attention was focused on the portal. Here we go again he thought to himself. He knew he had to shut down the portal before something serious came through. He knew that the dretch would only be driven through by a more powerful demon, presumably a Hezrou. Thankfully he also knew how to deal a demon incursion. He just hoped his magic was potent enough to close the rift. Tin Tan's voice spoke encouragingly in his mind, . Ivellios smiled.
He threw his magic and his will against the portal. He wrestled with the energy. It was barely held in check by some inexperienced maniac on the other end. The chaotic anger-fueled construction was no match for his skills and he tore it apart with ease. The conduit to The Prison was severed and the portal vanished. The grimweird's soul was sent for judgment. There was a staggering backlash of energy as if an inter-planar bowstring had snapped. It slashed into Ivellios. He almost collapsed. The energy overwhelmed him as magical power filled his frame. He could be transformed into a creature of great magical power by this energy. All he had to do was accept it. Accept Athru. But he did not accept. That lesson, he had learned long ago. He resisted the lure of the dark and stayed faithful to Tine. Tin Tan glowed with admiration.
The incursion was ended and the dretch were stranded. They didn't last long. Appleby lashed out with his staff, broke bones and cracked skulls. The ranger's arrows punched into their rubbery flesh and they fell under his relentless assault. Sir Eagon's sword was unstoppable and he smote his foes. No dretch could stand before him. Their flesh burned where his Chosen sword cut and no abyssal magic could protect them.

When all were slain, the victors said little. They were exhausted. There had been many battles that day and though all had been won, they had taken many wounds. They limped back to the control room. Ivellios took charge of the DeDannan control panel and locked down the entire complex.
Then, at last, they slept. Long and deep.