Rexali snarled in pain as his back grew taut with spasms. Muttering a curse to Nifilhema, he concentrated on the eruption from his back. Black forms sprouted out, elongating, growing from the base, forming large, demonic bat-wings.

Breathing heavily, he chanted a praise to the Supreme Master, feeling his weight shift, his movements a mite quicker than before. He smiled at his good fortune before sipping his bitter elixirs. Quicksilver, with a touch of the poisonous mercury, quickened his step slightly; carefully sipping a potion rimed with frost and another perpetually boiling slightly, he shuddered, his body's natural resistances morphing.

Concentrating hard, his crystalline scales, remnants of his distant Lucidian heritage, gradually hardened into unbreakable onyx. A weave of dragonskin grew from the magical aura around him.

Snapping out his backside, a barbed tail dripped with poisonous venoms. Calling a cosmic gate, he wove a blanket of improbability around himself, to protect him. Drawing a pentagram in chalk around himself, he smiled, his defenses complete.

A distant voice calling from the aether interrupted his reverie. Attuning his thoughts, Rexali zoned in on the chatter of the Midnight Legion, the elite forces of the Magnagoran army. A call to arms was being made, by the Emperor himself. No common attack was being called, but a thorough destruction of the dwarven outpost of Rockholm. Foolishly, the dwarves had pledged allegiance to the weak cowards of New Celest, a city forever caught up in atoning for the perceived mistakes of its ancestry.

Rexali smiled as the Emperor called him by name. Concentrating, he sent a short response. Briefly, the Emperor outlined his plan for multiple strike forces to rampage through the village, destroying everything in their paths. Corpses were to be collected, for the dark magics of the Angkrag masters could be woven to use dead skeletons as cheap labor. No corpses seemed to hold up to the torturous magic more easily than that of dwarves.

Smiling eagerly, Rexali touched his hands to the two short bony nubs on his skull, reminders of his chosen profession, as a Nihilist, a priest of Nil. Only a select few received such physical manifestations of the demonic energies flowing from the tainted plane, and Rexali relished the feel of the cold, polished bone.

Rexali reached deep within himself, sending out a call, and a gate formed, cloaked in taint. Through sheer force of will, he called an archdemon through the portal before it snapped shut. An enormous and powerful creature, it snarled in contempt at the mere mortal standing before it.

"Who dares wake me from my slumber?" it snarled, its voice full of contempt.

Rexali answered calmly, "Your master."

The demon understood its station immediately, recognizing the foul energies surrounding Rexali. The curses of the Demon Lords lay all around him, the touch of the Supreme Master hanging thickest of all. Rexali instructed it with his orders, and pulled his whip from his pack to emphasize his orders.

Standing tall, he carefully pulled a card from his tarot deck. Glancing at the empty surface, he pulled a palette of fine paints from his pack, and brushed a detailed rendering of a Catacombs Tarot card.

In one fluid motion, Rexali flinged the card into the dirt at his feet, watching it disappear in a small puff of smoke. Gradually, a tall map raised out of the dirt, a realistic rendering of the Basin. Touching the mountain kingdom of Rockholm, he felt himself drawn to the map, as if the world moved past him, placing him at his destination, inside the gates of the fortified village.

Calling a handful of the Legion's warriors, he waited as aether gates formed around him, drawing in powerful Ur'Guard warriors, Nihilist priests, and Geomancer mages to him. This raid would indeed be a rout, he thought to himself. Rexali led the charge to the north.

Charging forward, Rexali startled a couple of children playing in the road. Guards started running toward the warriors, who hacked them apart where they stood. Smiling cruelly, Rexali drew a breath as he released a small mote of flame from his fingertips. Drawing the small ball of pure cosmic energy, he thrust it forward, forcing it to rip through each of the small boys, burning their faces with the cosmic energies.

Yelling loudly, his voice carried deep into the caverns beneath the village, through the mines, "Rockholm, you have deserted the Empire of Magnagora, and sworn yourselves to our enemies. The Mighty Engine of Transformation has warned you of your plight, and you have not listened. Remember well this day, for the enemies of Magnagora are treated with no mercy nor remorse."

Smiling, Rexali thrust his hands forward, ordering the attack to commence with full force. A squadron of large, brutish Viscanti warriors, and a horde of the Orclach bearing every manner of weapon from edged broadswords to heavy hammers rampaged through the caverns, destroying every breath, crushing the life from every soul. No mercy was given, no quarter drawn. The dwarves' screams were drowned out by the battle calls of the marauding Ur'Guard.

A small group of Nihilist preachers followed close behind, preaching prayers to Nil as they reached within themselves, calling small motes of fire to destroy any stir from the still living. Collecting the corpses in wheelbarrows, they continued their slow passage through the village.

A cheer was sounded to Rexali as a young Ur'Guard ran up to notify him that the village commons was effectively destroyed. Speaking telepathically to the Emperor, he updated the current progress. Other commanders had already quelled the dwarves in the mines below, but the Celestian Army was on a forced march to arrive, and the Legion was to make a stand, to hopefully destroy the enemy forces now, through strength of arms. A small detachment had already been sent to deliver the valuable miner corpses to the village of Angkrag, where the necromantic arts would be practiced.

The Emperor's voice called for the Legion to teleport to him. Rexali concentrated on the distant signal, drawing an image of the Emperor to himself. Following the image in his mind, he found himself standing with the rest of the army. Everyone drew their pentagrams and circles of salt, preparing for the imminent assault on their position from the despised army of New Celest.

They were standing in the coal mines, deep underneath the village, dwarven corpses strewn around the chambers. Geomancers were busy focusing their magical energies in tainting the area, melding the very stone to their call. Small earthquakes were called, guided by the powerful mages.

Rexali walked over to stand beside his fellow mages, standing next to their powerful thralls, from the lowliest imps, to the most fearsome archdemon. All of the creatures appeared angry at their captivity, but all feared the retribution awaiting them should they earn the wrath of the priests. As Rexali neared, he even noticed a Nihilist whipping the flesh from the back of one of the powerful demons, and smiled at the true force established in the room.

He turned and watched as a Geomancer called tall walls of stone to block all but one entrance to the room, the Ur'Guard waiting in the forefront to stall any large invading force. The Emperor stood in the middle of the chamber, directing movements, and appeared to smile at Rexali, as if satisfied with the invasion thus far.

Refining his defenses, Rexali attuned his mind, forming cosmic windows to keep track of the movements of New Celest's able commanders. Quickly, he called out to Emperor Chade, notifying him that their foes were just now entering the mines. Squinting in the distance, he saw the Paladin army at the forefront, bearing the banners of the Prince.

Smiling wryly, Rexali whispered to his archdemon, gesturing to the other priests to do the same. At once, the demons, imps, and fiends all set out spinning around, sending out rays of shadows to the distant soldiers. Entering blindly, a handful of warriors charged into the room, only to be cut down by an ambush of Ur'Guard.

Mages chanted in unison, causing storms of rocks to fall on the approaching armies from the walls above, shattering bodies, and destroying all semblance of order in the enemy ranks. Charging forward, the battle was met in the large catacombs of the mines.

Rexali focused on collecting ribbons of energy from the air around him, sending it to capture a handful of enemy soldiers, entrapping them in webs of aether. Simultaneously, his archdemon hurled globes of darkness and fire at two Paladins, setting them on fire as they stood paralysed, unable to do anything but watch themselves burn.

Cackling, Rexali pointed at a stray Celestine who seemed to fend off all attacks coming at her, with a powerful angel standing beside her. Flinging a card at her, he watched as her limbs fell heavy, her actions slowing down incredibly. He watched as his demon set upon her, torturing her maliciously with various sharp metal implements. Pointing at the angel, Rexali let loose with a fiery blast, sending it back to the nether reaches of Celestia.

Standing back to catch his breath, he watched as the Legion quelled its
adversaries. Mages duelled with stone against water, and a handful of Geomancers caused the very stone under a handful of Aquamancers to open into a pit, closing after they fell through. Knights duelled in the forefront, swords clashing with hammers.

The battle was won. That much was evident. Falling back, he joined the Emperor and fellow Commanders. Touching palms, they teleported back to Magnagora, calling the rest of the Legion with them. They had succeeded in quelling the mighty dwarven village of Rockholm, as evidence of what befalls betraying the Empire, all while providing Angkrag with very cheap labor; Magnagora would surely be expecting large tributes for its aid in securing the dwarven corpses.

They had succeeded in scattering the mighty armies of New Celest, and all at minimal casualties to themselves. It would take years before New Celest recovered from the mayhem.

Rexali concluded his celebration, and walked over to the mighty Megalith of Doom. Touching it with his hand, he drew some power to himself. Smiling wryly, he pondered the future, and the myriad possibilities that fate held for him. His father had given him one task before departing, and Rexali intended to fulfil his bargain.

It was a long trek to the distant mesa compound. Perhaps he should seek some sustenance.

I glanced through it and caught the word 'ribbons'.

I give it an 'A+'.

I cought a lot of repeated names, just a little bit of constructive criticism (and I don't claim to be anything like a professional writer) but when you have a lot of the same proper noun it tends to disrupt the flow, and take away some of the effect as well as entertainment. It makes it seem less like a narrative story, essay, argument, etc. and more like a repeat of a bunch descriptions. Your structure is also somewhat monotone. You do, however, have a good grasp on descriptive metaphors and similes. Keep it simpler, shorter even (There's a lot of unnecessary content in there.) I would have suggested more dialogue as well, but that's my personal preference.

Overall I though it was decent, though a bit long.