The following is not a tale of good or evil: it is not a tale that is
necessarily true (though also not a tale that can be confirmed as false). It is
merely a story, dredged up from the confines of memory and myth which mingle so
freely in my head. Take it as you wish, retell it to your friends or relatives
with suitable alterations here and there. I care not. But take heed this, its
original and possibly truest telling, for it shall only be told once.

* * *

In the days and weeks following the Fall of the Holy Celestine Empire, chaos
ruled the Basin. Murder and thievery was rampant. As Serenwilde had drew into
itself, and the Glomdoring was hiding from raids from the remnants of the Holy
Celestine Empire (having lost their Totemic defenses when the Taint hit them),
and Celest had been destroyed in its entirety, Magnagora was the most common
offender in this respect. Barely a week went by without some new outrageous
tale of burly orclachs, their eyes gleaming with baleful flame and their pale
grey-tinted flesh alive with black veins, raiding and murdering a defenseless
settlement of refugee's from the Fall. Or tall, red-skinned creatures, their
faces filled with disgust, bat-like wings and scorpion-like tails held high
behind them, calmly and methodically slaughtering an orphanage on the outskirts
of what would one day become New Celest, taking to the air when the Paladins
arrived to curb them. But the worst of the offenders, without a shadow of a
doubt, was the man known as the Fist of Luciphage: arguably the most feared
figure in Celestian myth, aside from possibly the dread Emperor Ladantine VI.

The Fist of Luciphage was apparently once a loboshigaru Fatalist, who, at the
time of the Taint, had been in the Glomdoring Forest, gathering herbs and
solutions from the local flora and fauna in order to satisfy a hypothesis
commonly held in his Guild that they could be used to determine the Fates of
lesser creatures. It is said - though this is more likely legend - that he did
indeed discover how to influence the Fates of lesser beings, and when he became
Tainted (as, of course, did everyone in that area at the time) he used this
knowledge to vile and devious deeds. Whether this is true or not, it is most
certainly true that the Taint altered his body in such a way as to make him a
nigh-on unstoppable warrior. As tall as an igasho, eyes constantly agleam with
feral rage, it is said he strode straight through the forest, ripping tree's
aside as if they were mere shrubs, returning to his home city of Magnagora
within a day and within two murdering the old (a relative term - he had claimed
this title in the anarchy governing Magnagora just a few days earlier) Fist of
Luciphage, a trill-born creature. The Fist of Luciphage was one of the first to
venture to the Tainted Plane of Nil and commune with the Demon Lords: the
bellowing, senseless Ashtorath: the amorphous, murderous mass of Gorgulu: the
weeping, hysterical Nifilhema: the sneering, hissing mastermind, Baalphegar:
and the leader of them all, the Mighty Luciphage. Luciphage gave the
loboshigaru his blessing and sent him two gifts to perform his duties ("these
primely being to wipe out the Celestian scum who were responsible for this
wretched business at all"): a massive, hulking archdemon and an orb aglow with
demonic energy.

"That Orb is the most powerful gift you possess and ever shall. With it you can
harness the energy of the Mighty Plane of Nil and bring forth an entity of
supreme hatred and malevolance... A creature of impossible strength and guile.
The fell beast who shall be known as the Nil Grim Horror... when his time has
come. You will know how to contact him when the time comes, and Gods help any
Celestians who cross you when you do." Supreme Master Luciphage hissed as he
pressed the magnificent prize into the loboshigaru's grasping, massive claws.
The loboshigaru spoke no words, merely gave a triumphant howl as he was sent
hurtling back to the Megalith, the mark of Lord Luciphage's thumb firmly
indented into his skull.

* * *

Time passed, as it is all too wont to do. New Celest sprung up to the west,
gathering all the power and people they could. People did not flock to it as
they did the Old Empire, but that was to be expected: New Celest did the best
it could, though, and in no time they were rivalling the Tainted Empire in both
might and manpower. Many great and grave accomplishments were made during this
time, though few remember or noted them: the Tainted spirit of the old
Gloriana, the one-eyed monstrosity known as Mighty Crow, was destroyed, every
last crow which comprised His mighty murder crushed. Rowena Nightshade was
attacked by one of the mightiest of the Paladins, and though she claimed his
life, it was believed that she too died in the process (though no corpse was
ever discovered). The entire Dark Council of Glomdoring was crushed and
destroyed. Many raids were launched against the Tainted Empire, and though
little good came of it, key strategic breakthroughs were occasionally made: the
Guildmaster of the Nihilists was killed, for example. A great many archdemons
were stolen in horrific battles on the Plane of Nil (though many archangels
lost in similar raids upon Celestia). The biggest breakthrough of all, however?
- The Emperor of Magnagora, a man known to be of one of the old Great Houses of
Magnagora - that of the d'Murani - was hunted down and murdered while he was on
some manner of quest, with barely any soldiers to cover his back.

It is in this way that New Celest survived, perhaps even flourished: and it is
in this way that the Guild of Celestines eventually found their own champion. A
soft-spoken merian of remarkably pale blue hue, known as a diplomat of uncommon
skill and patience, and generally loved in New Celest, he seemed far from the
obvious choice, if you had not seen him on the battlefield. Once there, he was
a different man - hidden by his chainmail, face firmly covered by his
wing-adorned greathelm, he cut a swathe through the Tainted enemy using cosmic
magic of the most incredible strength. Few who witnessed him fight ever looked
at him the same way again, and it was no surprise to them that he won the
position he did. Nicknamed "Hope's Defender", he was commonly hailed as the
answer and saviour to all of New Celest's problems: most specifically that of
the Fist of Luciphage.

* * *

In the years since he had become Champion, he had seen many people rise and
fall in power. He had seen the very Emperor, leader of the City, fall in
battle: aye, he had been there when the hunting party had fell upon the hapless
d'Murani and severed his noble head from his shoulders. Withdrawn into the
shadows, he had not made a noise until the hunters had departed, pausing only
to crush the skull under one clawed foot. He had never liked the man. Many -
practically everyone, in fact - wanted him to ascend to the position of
Emperor, but he refused. He knew that if he did, he would be forced to give up
his Mighty Orb, and he did not want to do that... at least not until he had
called forth the Cosmic Entity that Lord Luciphage had told him about. So he
declined and watched another fool ascend to power. It was of little relevance
to him - he did as he always did. Killed. And he killed well.

In no time at all since his appointment, he was a common sight on the
battlefield. Celestians screamed and cowered when they saw him approach: a
massive - impossibly - huge man, cloaked in shadows, head hidden by a blackened
greathelm. Only his claws and baleful red eyes were visible, but they were more
than enough. He was practically legendary to the worthless fools, and it only
increased their fear when he lived up to expectations and won every battle he
participated in without sustaining a scratch. He used his claws and a massive,
taint-blackened warhammer as much as he used his cosmic magic upon the
battlefield. His brutality was almost mythical - tales abounded within both the
Celestian and Magnagoran ranks of him crucifying men on the battlefield,
crushing skulls with his bare hands, beating men aside with the fallen
carcasses of their own comrades. It was common belief that he kept a collection
of grisly trophies in his office in the Tower of Dark Fates: skulls, mostly, but
he was also said to have a pile of bloody eyes and several bones, ripped right
from his hapless victims.

Most of these rumours were true.

* * *

"Gregory, we have called you here today for a single reason. We are giving you
your first mission as Hope's Defender." the Guildmaster of the Celestines, a
matronly elder merian woman named Nyriel, was the speaker of these words.
Gregory examined her cautiously, not saying a word. He had no doubt the mission
was tough, and many that he would not be able to succeed, but he remained stoic
nontheless.

"What is this mission? By the blade of Methrenton, I shall not fail you, Mother
Nyriel." he said calmly, dropping to one knee.

"We.. we need you to defeat the scourge of New Celest. The one they call the
Fist of Luciphage."
Though his face remained calm, Gregory's insides were in turmoil. Defeat the
most legendary warrior of Magnagora? The most legendary warrior of EITHER city?
Though he knew his skills were prodigious both on and off the battlefield, he
also knew this was a battle he could not win alone. He rose from his sitting
position.

"Mother Nyriel, I hope you realise you likely send me to my death. If you wish
for me to go, I shall, but do not expect me to succeed." he spoke as calmly as
he looked.

"We do not send you alone, Gregory. We are confident in your abilities, but we
do not want you killed. We send you with a gift from Lady Elohora Herself, Her
name be praised." Nyriel made a gesture of respect and, cupping it in both
hands, handed an object wrapped in silk to Gregory.

"What is this?" he asked, unwrapping it swiftly to reveal a pure white crown,
inset with dazzling gemstones. Had he heard tell of the flaming orb (wore
around the neck at all times) rumoured to be owned by the Fist of Luciphage, he
would have been far more excited and curious by this peculiar artifact: as it
was, he was merely cautious.

"I.. I do not know, to be honest. But She said that you would know what to do
with it when the time came. And I do not doubt that She is entirely correct.
Godspeed, Gregory." leaning forward, she gave him a hug, and swiftly he was
chivvied from her office by a number of handmaidens.

* * *

Gregory rode out onto the battlefield, as always, upon his beautiful pegasus,
his archangel floating at his side, her face untroubled and calm. The area
around the Serenwilde forest and the road north of Magnagora was the usual
place of battle. It was dangerous to fight near the Glomdoring, obviously, for
the Magnagorans still had many allies residing in that tainted place. It was
almost as dangerous to fight near the Skarch, as the fact it was technically
outside the Basin meant the conditions were atrocious. And fighting near Celest
was a definite no.
"Besides, no-one is going to get hurt near Serenwilde." Gregory sighed, trouble
and hurt evident in his eyes. "They have sealed their commune to us. No-one is
going in and no-one is going out for many years to come yet, I fear."

Finally, Gregory came to the battleground. It was unusually quiet and still:
the blackened ground and smoking heaps of charred corpses were far more eerie
in such stillness. A few Celestian troops stood about. Mainly Paladins, their
faces were extremely worried. They brightened visibly at his arrival.

"Lord Gregory! Any news from Celest? Are we to be recalled?" one asked
hopefully.

"No. I have been sent here to combat... Him." Gregory said, his face betraying
his worries. The troops gave little squeaks, that would have been comical in
other circumstances.

"They must be mad, sending you to fight Him alo- ... well, no offense, sir, but
He's INSANE. There's nothing we can do to hold Him back... even when He attacks
us twenty of us solo, He decimates us. I can't see what you can do to stop Him,
sir."

"I have been given a Celestial artifact of power to stop him. That is, I think
I have." Gregory drew out the glistening circlet and held it tightly to his
breast. To his wonder, it began to glow with a lumiscent sheen and shudder
faintly in his hand. He drew it away and returned it to his pocket.

"If this is an ordained duel, we can't help, then?" the warriors asked, their
faces even more worried than before.

"I'm afraid not. But you can watch, no doubt." Gregory said. Scanning the
horizon for the arrival of his nemesis. He had not long to wait.

* * *

The Fist of Luciphage was, in person, much like Gregory had heard. Massively
tall and coated in a thick layer of black fur, entirely hidden and enshrouded
by shadows, only his white claws and red eyes visible.

"You." the very air seemed to tremble with the force and vehemence he put into
that single word. "You are the one I am to fight?" his voice was educated,
rich, and dripping with venom.

"Yes. I am the Defender of Hope, and I have been sent here to kill you, demon."
Gregory's voice and face were calm once more. He fingered the Crown, felt it
juddering restlessly beneath his hand. Was this the time to use it?

"And I am the Fist of Luciphage, as you no doubt know. All know me. I am the
Avatar of the Supreme Master, and all are my prey." the Fist hissed, drawing a
few steps closer. "You are fighting alone, or with these wretched fools? I can
crush any one of them in an instant." The warriors drew back, their faces
perspiring.

"Just me. I have a special weapon to combat you, demon." Gregory's voice rung
over the blackened land like a bell, just as much as the voice of the
loboshigaru seemed to ooze through it.

"Is that so." it was not a question. "Well, we all have weapons." the Fist of
Luciphage gave an arrogant snort and, throwing his arms back, the shadows
whipping behind him like a cloak, revealed for a moment his powerful, hunched
muscles and a muzzle lined with razor-sharp teeth.

"Enough talk. Let us begin." Gregory whispered... his hand always on the Crown.

* * *

"ARRROOOOGGHHHH!" howled the loboshigaru, bringing his massive fist down in a
wide arc and catching Gregory a blow of impossible strength on the shoulder,
breaking his collarbone like a twig. He gasped with pain and horror, but
quickly used his healing magic to cure the wound. The loboshigaru had used the
few seconds he had been healing himself to conjure up a ball of elemental flame
and magic, and with another triumphant bellow he flung it at Gregory. Gregory's
magic could do nothing to assuage the pain he felt from this red-hot missile:
it bored its way into his skin, scarring and smoking and boiling. The men who
were still stood there (a few had run off in fear near the beginning of the
battle) were wide-eyed and open mouthed as Gregory frantically rolled over in
the black mud, desperately trying to put out the flame. The Fist of Luciphage
gave a harsh laugh, the orb around his neck glowing with a light as sullied and
dark as Gregory's crown was white and pure.

"This is the best the "Grand Duchy of Celest" could offer? I am not sure
whether to be amused or dissapointed. Regardless, your end comes now." the Fist
of Luciphage sneered, as his archdemon lurched clumsily forward, batting aside
Gregory's angel and sinking its blackened claws into his flesh. Immeadiately, a
massive amount of iron shackles appeared as if from thin air, wrapping round his
helpless, prone body like metallic snakes. The Fist of Luciphage seemed to grow
in height and power, the shadows which surrounded him becoming deeper and
darker, and his right hand sheathed in a miasmic cloud of taint, buzzing with
airborne insects and surrounded by the stench of corruption.

"What.. what are you.. NO!" wailed one of the Celestian soldiers, lunging
forward with as much grace as the Fist's demon, and attempting to protect his
master. With a sneer, the Fist of Luciphage buried his taint-sheathed fist in
the chest of the soldier, breaking through it with consumate ease. The body of
the poor soldier began to decay rapidly, flesh slaughing off the bones. Less
than three seconds later the Fist of Luciphage was left clutching a skeletal
figure, claws tightly wrapped around its ribcage.

"You are next, Defender of Hope." the Fist snarled, withdrawing his fist and
chanting vile and horrific words. Now both his hands were dripping with the
miasmic taint - it appeared as if he was wearing some pair of bizarre,
insect-covered gloves. Once more he lunged forward -

"No, demon. You are next." Gregory drew himself up and, using the last of his
strength, pulled the crown from his pocket. Placing it upon his head, he gave a
primal scream of fury and agony as a piercing white light shot from it. The Fist
of Luciphage snarled, but didn't slow down - his fist was nearly at Gregory's
chest, now, and coming closer... Gregory could see every buzzing insect on his
claw-like fingernails, the horrendous red gleam in his eyes, smell the stench
of his breath-

"AROOOOOOOGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the Fist screamed abruptly and jumped
backwards. Putting his hands over his eyes, he fell to his knees and gave a cry
that was as pitiful and woeful as Gregory's was primal and powerful. Gregory
looked behind him, bewildered, to witness a glimmering portal: a portal from
which a woman of unearthly beauty was flying. Clad in shimmering armour of the
purest and brightest colours, her hair was long and golden, and her eyes
aglitter with celestial power. In her right hand she wielded a flaming blade,
and in her left she held a golden shield with a simple design upon it - that of
a dove in flight.

"Are you.. Lady Shakiniel?" Gregory whispered, dropping to one knee in a
gesture of respect to the creature, quite forgetting the loboshigaru (who now
appeared as helpless as a babe).

"No, young Celestine. I am the Handmaiden of Shakiniel, and I have been sent
here to aide you, as I shall aide every Defender of Hope who arises to
challenge the scourge of the Taint." her voice was like a bell: sweet yet
piercing, commanding. She saluted Gregory with her blade and flew forwards,
towards the loboshigaru, who had finally risen to his feet, though his fur had
taken on a colour more like ash that its usual ebon tint.

"Hold, wench of the Defender." he croaked, holding up a shaking paw. "You may
be defending this wretched Celestine, but I possess a creature whose might far
exceeds your own paltry powers. A creature born of taint and despair - the
beast that Supreme Master Luciphage calls the NIL GRIM HORROR!" the loboshigaru
finished with a howl, clasping his hands around the flaming orb he wore and
closing his eyes tightly. To the amazement of all present - except, apparently,
the Handmaiden - the orb flickered briefly and then became black and dull.

"Fool!" laughed the Handmaiden, her voice taking on a deadly tone. "There is no
such thing as the Nil Grim Horror. It is a legend which predates the Taint, just
as the name of Nil predates the tainting of the Holy Plane of Shallamar. There
is no such thing, really, just as Nil does not truly exist: it is merely
Shallamar transformed. You have been tricked by your own Master, though for
what purpose I cannot say: I can say, however, that your end is nigh." raising
her sword once more, she plunged forward and sank the sword into the gut of the
wretched creature. With a piercing howl, the loboshigaru fell backwards, gore
flowing freely from the repulsive wound.

"Now, Gregory. Finish him." the Handmaiden made a strange gesture and her sword
vanished. "Only you can strike him down, rid the world of his foulness, now and
forever."

Gregory concentrated as hard as he could. A deadly headache was pounding in his
skull from the fierce battle, but he knew she spoke the truth: even as he
watched the tainted powers of undeath that the foul Fist commanded were causing
his tainted flesh to slowly knit itself together. Gregory manifested a ball of
pure elemental power and, with all his might, flung it into the face of the
loboshigaru. And if his howls earlier were horrific, they were monstrous now,
almost beyond bearing. His eyes rolled crazily as the flame worked itself into
his flesh, burnign and scouring just as the ball of flame he had earlier flung
at Gregory had done.

"RETURN TO NIL, THE ONLY PLANE THAT WILL ACCEPT YOUR WRETCHED CARCASS!" Gregory
howled in a voice most unlike his ordinary one. His eyes blazing with fury of
the most horrendous variety, he used the last ounce of strength he possessed to
bedevil all of the hurts and wounds he had recieved during the fight onto the
loboshigaru. Hurts which he had recieved so gradually that they were almost
unnoticeable: hurts which were piled upon the loboshigaru with such deadly
speed that he collapsed almost immeadiately, bleeding from a dozen places, his
bones cracked in a dozen places, his nostrils oozing a foul black ichor.

"Well done, Gregory, you have done well." were the last words Gregory heard
before he lost consciousness, and the last sight he saw was the faces of the
frightened yet awed troopers. And as he sank down into a deep sleep, from which
he did not wake for several moons, a single thought prevailed: it's finally
over.

He had never been more wrong.

* * *

"Arise, fool. You have not yet failed, nor died." the voice which spoke into
the ear of the loboshigaru was soft, yet so startlingly vehement and deep that
he was forced from his dying stupor. Dragging himself to his legs (one of which
buckled when he stood, nearly causing him to fall over), he looked about
himself: the battle was lost, Gregory was slowly being borne away by those
wretched warriors, and the Handmaiden had returned to her orb. The loboshigaru
made to leap at the warriors, but keeled over quickly, coughing up startlingly
dark blood in alarmingly large quantities.

"Fool. You will die for sure: no healing magics can save you, and the only
healers in existence reside within the ranks of the Moondancers and Celestines,
anyway. You are finished... unless you can finally harness the power of the
Orb." the voice which the loboshigaru now recognized as the voice of Supreme
Master Luciphage hissed. The loboshigaru felt icy fingers gripping his neck,
forcing it painfully to look at the Orb, which he had dropped when the
Handmaiden had skewered him on her blade.

"Bu.. t you tricked me.. .. there is no Nil.. Grim..-"

"DOLT! Of course there is a Nil Grim Horror. You merely did not.. call him
correctly. Go, to the Orb! Touch it! And speak three words: "Domination over
all." Then his fell might will be unleashed into the Prime Material Plane once
more" crowed Luciphage in a mixture of ecstasy and rage. The loboshigaru found
himself crawling painfully, inch-by-inch, till he had reached the Orb. Closing
his claws around it, he whispered "Domination over all." and closed his eyes,
the last of his mighty strength spent and cowed. The Orb glowed with a crimson
light and the loboshigarus lifeless corpse was pulled into it, dissolving into
a mass of gelantinious shadowstuff.

"And thus is the Nil Grim Horror finally born, and in him shall be both the
Thrall of the next Fist of Luciphage and my eyes upon the Prime Material
Plane." Luciphage appeared in a blaze of red and black light, surrounded by an
aura of despair and darkness. Kneeling, he scooped up the orb, from which two
terrified red eyes gleamed.

"Fool. The Nil Grim Horror never existed - those words were true enough. But
the Orb existed, the prison from which the Horror could be born, if only one
could speak the correct words... and now the most powerful mortal in the Realms
has been encased within the Orb, nothing will be able to stop the beast that he
is to become!" Luciphage dissolved in a flash of hideous light, and Celest knew
peace.

For a time.