Perhaps the best thing about the world we live in, the single fact that
makes life in the Basin worthwhile, is that there is always something new to
discover. Sometimes it is something that other eyes have never seen, something
that has lain undisturbed since time immemorial. Other times, it is something
thought long forgotten, a secret whose last resting place was believed to have
been lost to time and decay. The discovery of which I speak now is of the
latter breed, but I do not believe it shall ever be forgotten again, at least
not while the Lords of Nil still grant me breath.
Even had it not been for what I found that day, the Magnagoran excursion
into the Unholy Plane of Celestia would have remained forever one of my fondest
and most glorious memories. Never have I seen a people more united, more
devoted to their common cause, and above all else, more equal. Magnagoran
citizens who still bowed meekly as I passed them on the streets of the city
rose above me that day, and became the heroes of the battle, claiming an
eternal place in story and song; I was no longer a leader, but one small finger
of a shining Iron fist, working in perfect unison with the rest to crush the
enemies of the Taint.
Celestia is a dangerous place, particularly to those blessed by Nil, and
without the might of my sworn brother Urdoniel, that mighty servant of Lord
Ashtorath who had fought beside me since my youth, I was sorely weakened. The
angelic hosts of the Supernals fell upon us in a seemingly endless wave,
against which there seemed at times to be no victory. As to the Supernals
themselves, though I have never wavered in my conviction that theirs is a
legacy of lies and deception, I found myself for a moment in danger of giving
way to fear at the sight of their glorious forms. But I am, above all things,
a student of Lord Ashtorath, and among the most dedicated of his servants, and
I soon remembered my teachings. These were but mockeries of the Lords of Nil,
perfection viewed through a twisted glass; I had nothing to fear from the
likes of them.
The fight was long and hard, and many fell, friend and foe alike. I
myself was brought low several times by the shining blades of the seraphim and
the fury of the Lords of Celestia, and only the loyalty of my comrades and my
own mastery of the Forbidden Arts keeps the tale from ending there, in ignominy
and defeat, with my body unburied and unsung among the bodies of my friends.
However, never again did my certainty waver, and the will of my citymates was
strong; in the end, our victory was assured. The foul Supernals and their
hosts fell victim to the blades and magic of Mighty Magnagora, Scourge of the
Light that blinds, and the day, at last, was ours.
The reaction of the Tainted forces was one of universal joy, and it
became clear that the events of this glorious day required a celebration.
Celestia was not the place, however, as ardently as we desired to make merry
amidst the bodies of our sworn enemies. The angelic army of that place would
soon be renewed, as would the might of the Supernals themselves, for it has
been many decades since those beings could be slain for good. Before they were
restored, it was imperative that their broken bodies be sacrified to Lord Raezon
and the Lords of Nil, in thanks for the victory we had been granted. With that
in mind, the Magnagoran legion began to gather the dead and wounded and
prepared to return home.
After a moment's thought, however, I decided to remain behind and
explore this realm that we had, for the moment, conquered so utterly. When
would I get another chance like this, to walk within the very stronghold of our
enemies, to delve into their most hidden chambers and see what lay hidden there?
I am also a servant of Lord Baalphegar, and this opportunity to expose the
darkest secrets of the Light could not be allowed to pass us by. With this in
mind, I bid my comrades farewell and began my journey in the Plane of Light.
I cannot fully describe Celestia, any more than I could Nil, many years
ago. They are their own realities, the Cosmic Planes, and it is not for
mortals to understand them fully. However, I can tell you that Celestia
radiates a kind of peace and warmth not to be found on the Tainted Plane, a
comfort that I have little doubt is as large a part of the Light's seduction as
their slanderous lies. A song wove itself in and out of the shining halls of
that realm, a song of harmony and joy that even I, as devout a servant of the
Taint as any, found difficult to mistrust. It was a truly beautiful song, and
I have never heard its like, before or since.
However, I had not walked far from the site of our final battle with
Methrenton and his children when the song was interrupted by a roar of
indescribable fury. I had only heard its like once before, and that was from
Lord Ashtorath, during one of his legendary rages - this did not quite have the
earth-shaking timbre of the Duke of Damnation, but it far exceeded any of his
lesser followers. I moved towards the sound, hoping to locate its source, and
when I did, I could not prevent a cry of shock from escaping my lips.
The being that stood there, bound to a shining pedestal by chains of
gold, was clearly demonic in nature - I had served Nil long enough to recognize
the mark of the Taint which even now continues to bless my once-human form.
However, the blessings this creature had received far exceeded my own. It had
the long, batlike wings that were the mark of the archdemon, though they were
tattered and appeared long unused. Its skin was the dark, glistening red of
blood, and shone in the light of Celestia - a light which, I realized suddenly,
caused this mighty creature no more discomfort than it did me! Never had I
encountered a demon capable of withstanding the Light of this plane. It had
four arms, each tipped with six wicked claws, and stood nearly eight feet tall
- taller than me, but somewhat shorter than most demons I had known. Most
horribly of all, its eyes could not be seen - they had been permanently closed
by some art of which I had no knowledge, stitched shut with bands of the
creature's own flesh.
As I uttered my small cry, the creature's roar of rage subsided, and it
began to sniff the air with a pair of great, reptilian nostrils. "There is a
fair scent in the air," he - for the voice was clearly male - uttered calmly,
his tone now bereft of all anger. "One I have not smelled in countless years.
I sense the Taint on you, young one. How has this come to pass?"
It took me a moment to find my voice. "I serve the Taint, and its
Lords, body and soul."
His nostrils flared, and when he spoke again, it was tinged with
surprise. "Its Lords? Who dares to claim they rule the Taint?"
I bristled somewhat, and the note of respect vanished somewhat from my
voice. "The Demon Lords of Nil do not claim to rule - they serve the Taint in
all its aspects."
He let out his breath in a hiss, and leaned forward as far as his heavy
golden chains would allow. "Tell me their names," he commanded. It did not
occur to me to refuse.
"The Lords Ashtorath, Gorgulu and Baalphegar, the Lady Nifilhema, and
Supreme Master Luciphage rule the Tainted Plane of Nil," I intoned proudly. "I
am among their chief servants, Ashar, Mystagogue of the Nihilists." I bowed
low, then, realizing he likely knew nothing of my guild, I added, "The
Priesthood of Nil."
He began to laugh, then, a hollow, chilling sound. However, I soon
perceived that there was genuine pleasure in that laugh, and mirth. It went on
for a long time, that sound of renewed hope and joy, before the demon spoke
again. "So Ashtorath rules a tainted plane, while Priests give him sacrifice."
His laughter subsided to a chuckle. "He has come a long way since I knew him,
but I would have expected nothing less. You speak to Morganoth, who once men
called the Burning Shadow, in the wars that ended the Time of Weakness." As
the enormity of what he said began to dawn on me, he smiled slightly and
continued. "I was once the lieutenant and confidante of the one you call Lord
Ashtorath."
I gasped, and fell to my knees. I could think of no reason to
disbelieve him, this strange demon so unlike anyone or anything I had met
before - unlike anyone, I realized, save Lord Ashtorath. No, this Tainted
warrior spoke only truth. "You knew Lord Ashtorath? But…how did you come to
be imprisoned here?"
He made a sound of disgust, deep in the back of his throat. "I was
taken prisoner in a great battle between the Light and the Taint, while my
Lord's back was turned. I have known nothing but torture since." He laughed
again. "They call it ‘purification', but I fought beneath the Lady Nifilhema,
and I know torture." He turned his head towards me, and though he had no eyes
I knew he was regarding me speculatively. "You say there is an entire plane
overtaken by the Taint?"
"Yes," I replied proudly. "A plane the reverse of this one, where
beings like yourself worship the Demon Lords and aid their servants in battle."
Then I remembered my urgency, and stepped forward. "But, come," I said. "We
must free you. I cannot allow you to remain here any longer." However, I was
too late; from behind me the song of Celestia sounded with great vigor, and as
I turned the renewed angelic hosts of Celestia swooped forward, shining brands
in hand.
I shouted a battle cry and let fly with the fire of the cosmos, and with
each burst an angel fell, but still they came. I knew that I could not fall,
that I must survive this encounter long enough to free the long-lost servitor
of my Lord, but then I saw the looming visage of Methrenton bringing up the
rear of the shining host and I knew there was no hope. Heedless of the blades
that pierced my form, uncaring that my death was nigh, I turned to face
Morganoth. "I am sorry, brother," I said.
He chuckled again as though nothing were happening around us. "It is of
no consequence," he said. "I have been here so long I had ceased even to hope
for freedom. You, Mystagogue of the Nihilists, have renewed that hope." He
leaned back and relaxed in his chains. "My time will come." Then the last of
my blood spilled upon the unholy ground, and muttering a fervent prayer for
salvation, I slid into blackness.
The fates were kind to me that day, and I lived to tell this tale. But
somewhere in the blinding Light of Celestia Morganoth still dwells, imprisoned
by the Supernals since the Time of Weakness. I have not yet discovered a way
to free him, but I am working, always working, waiting for another moment of
vulnerability like the one I squandered. He has languished there for decades,
but no longer. There is hope. His time will come.