"Demonic Presence"

The Holy Emanations of Shallamar once exhibited every quiet grace and precept
that Celestia stood for. As all know, the spread of the Taint
changed that for the better - but perhaps there were other machinations deeper
under the surface. Observe for yourselves the Holy Emanations in all of their
glory. Bear witness to the righteous ascendence of the Demon Lords of Nil!

Cast:
Luciphage, Lord of Compassion
The Voice of Baalphegar
King Gorgaliel, the Peacemaker
Lady Nifilhema, Queen of Illustrious Beauty
Ashtorath, Blessed Lord of the Golden Bells

Scene 1:

(The lights rise slowly, in a faint, eerie illumination of a dark stage. Soft
red lighting backlights the twisted shapes that form the geography of the Plane
of Nil. The effect is disconcerting, as though a portion of the twisted domain
has been transplanted onto the stage itself. In the center of the background,
rising above the proscenium into darkness, is the Megalith of Doom in all its
fell glory, cracked and seeping with acrid-smelling machine oil. A low chorus
of lesser demons begins to chatter and hiss lowly â€" above even that, a
sibilant voice begins to speak, filling the very air with a sense of
trepidation.)

VOICE OF BAALPHEGAR. Domain over a perfect realm - this is the precept,
despite the facades and protestations that others will use, that drives all of
those who have come into power at one time or another. Perfection, however, is
in the eye of the beholder. Laws, geography, demographics, armies â€" what
constitutes the epitome of a governed district?

(A lance of red lightning flares against the dark sky of Nil.)

VOICE OF BAALPHEGAR. Is our world not perfect? Behold the demonic plane of Nil,
the very source of all that we stand for. Four beautifully horrific climes form
its environment â€" arid deserts, deceptive fields, stagnant swamps, and barren
wastes, each laden with its own brand of emotion, of education through
punishment, as much as physical pitfalls. Above it all, we reign supreme.

(A further lightning flash, and a dark figure is silhouetted in total black
against the red light suddenly, standing erect to the right of the grim
panorama. As he speaks, he does not move, yet a swarm of spiders clearly
spreads from beneath the hem of his robe, skittering across his portion of the
realm.)

VOICE OF BAALPHEGAR. I, Baalphegar, Keeper of the Dark Web and eternal seeker
of history, lore, and information. Knowledge is power, and I am existential
proof.

(A further lightning flash prompts the sudden startling appearance of Ashtorath
to the far left, heralded by an earsplitting roar of fury. He is exactly as in
present-day life, towering in size compared to the form of Baalphegar, wings
outstretched, tail lashing fitfully. The only source of light from his black
outline is the red glow of the flames that form his eyes. The ground at
Ashtorath’s feet smolders and blackens in a widening circle.)

VOICE OF BAALPHEGAR. Ashtorath, Duke of Inescapable Damnation. His strength and
martial wit know no bounds, nor equals to compare. Neither does his boundless
rage, much to the detriment of those who serve him â€" and even more so to
those who would oppose him.

(The next lightning flash prompts the appearance of Lady Nifilhema’s
silhouette, to Baalphegar’s right. She is poised artfully, her wicked metal
implement raised as though it were a flower of beauty. Blood begins to coat the
floor where she stands, a black pool spreading from her position.)

VOICE OF BAALPHEGAR. The Lady Nifilhema, Queen of Insufferable Cruelty.
Physical pain is her prowess, her passion, and her pleasure. Through it, one
can only grow stronger, and the weak shall fall to its exquisite embrace.
Through her, suffering is an art form, beautiful and prized.

(Gorgulu is next to appear in a flash of lightning, silhouetted in a horrid
mass of wriggling tentacles, claws, teeth and mouths. His terrifying visage
appears to Ashtorath’s left, causing a sheen of slime and decay to mar the
surface of the plane.)

VOICE OF BAALPHEGAR. Lord Gorgulu, of the Thousand Hungers. His Lordship is
obviously the most affected by the Taint. His hunger is senseless, insatiable,
and all-consuming. I mourn to think that he was the greatest of us, and is now
so consumed by his own need.

(A last flash of lightning, and the stage is pitched into total darkness. From
the blackness therein, a glimmer of gold can be seen, as a lone red glow slowly
illuminates the majestic, animated figure of Luciphage, his aristocratic
features thrown into full, astonishing view.)

LUCIPHAGE. I exist above even these penultimate creations, these masterpieces
of our Tainted world. I am the Supreme Master, the Dark Ruler of Nil. My
machinations are the widest-cast and the most deadly of any of my
colleagues’. Knowledge and the restraint to keep it from overwhelming; Anger,
and the temperance to maintain composure; Pain, and the inherent retrospection
found within; and Hunger, with marginal limits to bend it to my will â€"
command of the key precepts of Nil is mine and mine alone.

(Abruptly, there is blackness again, leaving no trace of the terrifying domain
of the Demon Lords.)

VOICE OF BAALPHEGAR. We were not always the perfect beings that we have become,
however. Greatness is always preceded by less, but even then we were to be
reckoned with. We are not, after all, wholly new entities compared to what we
were…

SCENE 2: Gorgaliel's Throne

This chamber is truly massive, even compared to the remaining dimensions of
Gorgaliel's palace. Sculpted marble columns rise periodically from floor to
ceiling, supporting the vaulted roof overhead. Five large windows of stained
glass filter in colored light, each bearing a stylized image of one of the Holy
Emanations of Shallamar. Dominating the far end of this cathedral-esque chamber
is a large golden throne mounted upon a marble dais.

(The light returns, this time on the calm interior of a vaulted marble throne
room . Lord Gorgaliel sits atop a throne that dominates the area, settled back
reflectively.)

GORGALIEL. (Reciting this by rote, as though they are instructions that were
presented to him.) Fairness and justice are to be meted out to the inhabitants
of this realm unconditionally. Compassion, wisdom, beauty, and diplomacy are
the lessons that the Holy Emanations are charged with teaching, and we do not
shirk our duties, even when the supplicants arrive filing in from the Stone of
Truth, even when Magnagora’s Fatalists come for council, we do not fall
lax.(A small smile crosses his features, and he is possessed with genuine
happiness.) Our lessons are taught, reinforced, and taught further. We
enlighten those who have not seen our glory, and we bolster the faith of those
who have followed our paths themselves. (His eyes close for a moment, and he
nods in long-awaited satisfaction.) Ah, Gorgaliel, you preside over a veritable
utopia.

LUCIPHAGE. (Offstage.) A utopia indeed, my Lord.

(GORGALIEL straightens suddenly, glancing to the entrance to his throne room.
He inclines his head politely as LUCIPHAGE enters.

(LUCIPHAGE pauses before one side of his throne, bowing courteously.)

GORGALIEL. Hail, Luciphage. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?

LUCIPHAGE. My Lord, I thought it appropriate to inform you that a further
contingent of supplicants arrived from Magnagora seeking further enlightenment.
Ashtorath remained behind in the city, but has marked those who are to proceed
to his veranda. I am afraid, my Lord, that Baalphegar is not to be found.

GORGALIEL. It is to be expected, my friend â€" there was no notice as to the
arrival of these supplicants. Baalphegar will likely be present at the loom of
the Fates. Make due without him, in this instance. Interrupting Them would not
be wise.

LUCIPHAGE. (Smirking slightly.) Agreed. Will you then join the Queen and myself
in separating the crowd?

GORGALIEL. (He gives a pained sigh, shaking his head.) I cannot, Luciphage, and
I believe you know better as well. There are throngs cluttering the entrance to
my tabernacle â€" or did that escape your astute notice on your way in?

LUCIPHAGE. (His face falls, and he is momentarily taken aback by this sharp
retort.) My Lord, I only assumed that you might be able to put a hold on the
trials â€"

GORGALIEL. Hold the trials?! (He stands in a burst of sudden indignation,
glaring at Luciphage.) Surely you jest, Lord of Compassion! The trials are the
sole activities that my time allows for! Day in and day out, I receive no
respite save for the occasional audience with one of my brethren.

LUCIPHAGE. Then, my Lord, why not take a brief sojourn to the Stone with this
respite, that you may effectively separate the supplicants?

GORGALIEL. (He calms slightly, exhaling slowly. He measures LUCIPHAGE with an
even eye.) Because this is my duty. You profess the ways of caring, love, and
compassion, just as the Queen encourages the supplicants to enjoy their beauty
and find it within themselves. My teachings are that of justice and equality
â€" if I am not present to judge, to teach, then how will the supplicants learn
from me?

LUCIPHAGE. (Approaching the throne carefully.) You are the ruler of this realm,
Gorgaliel. You make the laws, you govern, you hold supreme power here. You can
do as you desire, my Lord. The supplicants are understanding â€" they are
certainly not going anywhere.

GORGALIEL. I am a peacemaker here. I am confined to this throne while I tend to
my followers. Were the queue diminished, I would be more amenable to seeking
audience with the new supplicants, but I cannot leave here with my teachings
unfinished. Come to me when you have more important matters to seek my counsel
on â€" otherwise, take it up with Nifilhema. She knows my preferences as to
supplicants. You don’t require my presence, Luciphage. You haven’t for the
past aeon that I’ve sat on this throne, imprisoned by my own precepts.

LUCIPHAGE. My Lord â€"

GORGALIEL. That is all, Luciphage. You are dismissed.

LUCIPHAGE. (He’s disgruntled, opening his mouth to speak again, offer words
of comfort. He thinks better of it, however, and bows deeply.) My thanks for
this audience, Lord Gorgaliel. (He exits briskly, much more formal and rigid
than his posture throughout the previous exchange.)

(Gorgaliel sits carefully, arranging his robes around him. His previous gloomy
mood has seemingly vanished, replaced by the aura of serene grace that
accompanies the Emanations.)

GORGALIEL. Next!

(Blackout.)

Scene 3: The Plains of Shallamar

(The lights rise on the central plain of Shallamar â€" it is an open, grassy
field with a perfect azure sky above. Rising from the center of the background
is the Stone of Truth â€" much like the Megalith in the opening scene, yet this
Stone is pure white and glimmering with runes of power. Sitting in the grass
propped against the stone is Luciphage, arms folded, head nodded down in what
for all purposes appears to be a Divine nap. Shortly after the lights come up,
Nifilhema enters. She is slowly strolling along, perhaps a bit exhausted after
the administration of so many new supplicants.)

NIFILHEMA. My, but that was tedious! Who would like to go where to learn what?
(She laughs, her voice a beautiful, clear bell.) Our personal choices
notwithstanding, I find it much simpler to let the supplicants decide for
themselves. They should know their own preferences, after all, should they not?
A few more for me, a bit more than that for Luciphage, and even a small number
for Ashtorath. The greatest amount wanted to study under my husband â€" I do
hope he’ll understand. Those that were left over went to Baalphegar. He
wasn’t present â€" if the supplicants aren’t little bookworms, he finds
little use in teaching them. Ah, well, perhaps he’ll learn something himself
in the process.

LUCIPHAGE. (Waking, softly.) Hmm? Ah, greetings, my Queen.

NIFILHEMA. (Laughs gently once more, curtseying regally.) Greetings, Luciphage.
Am I interrupting your repose?

LUCIPHAGE. (He stands, straightening his robes carefully and taking up his
crystal-topped staff.) Not at all, milady. I ought to have known better than to
dally near the Stone regardless. It would not do for me to be trod upon by some
unwary traveler: it would set a bad example.

(He grins, moving away from the Stone.)

NIFILHEMA. (She hides another amused smile behind her hand.) Oh, Luciphage,
you’re quite disarming - indeed it would! We can’t have the Holy Emanations
tripping up their own followers, however inadvertently. (She takes the white
amaranth from her hair and brings it close, sniffing delicately, before toying
with the flower.)

LUCIPHAGE. Of course not. I trust all is well with milady?

NIFILHEMA: As well as can be expected, I suppose. (She reverts to more
formality, straightening and hiding her smile.)

LUCIPHAGE. (He raises an eyebrow, apparently unconvinced.) Her Ladyship is not
the most convincing deceiver. Pray tell, what’s the matter?

NIFILHEMA. Nothing that concerns you, Luciphage. Nothing at all â€" I’m
perfectly fine. (She picks up her skirts and walks away quickly.)

LUCIPHAGE. Nifilhema, stop. (She does not â€" he advances, thrusting out his
staff to block her exit at the last moment.) Stop!

NIFILHEMA.(Startled, she halts suddenly, the Amaranth in her hand falling free
to the ground.) Luciphage, how dare you? Let me pass at once!

LUCIPHAGE. (He does not withdraw his staff, gazing somberly at Nifilhema.) I
will not. It is my duty to ensure that nothing indeed can trouble your fair
mind, my Queen. Obviously, something is, and I would be a very poor advocate of
Compassion indeed if I were to let you proceed in such a state.

NIFILHEMA. I am grateful for your concern, Luciphage, but it is not something I
wish to discuss with another. Thank your for the charming distraction from our
duties. Good day. (She lifts his staff out of her way and moves past, exiting
quietly.)

LUCIPHAGE. (He stalks slowly, angrily back to the Stone.) It’s her husband, I
know it is. I myself can’t remember the last time I saw them together outside
of an audience â€" I shudder to think of how long her recollection stretches.

(He lays his staff in the grass and sits, once more propping his back against
the Stone as he resumes his nap. After a brief moment, the Stone flares with
energy, and Ashtorath steps out, wreathed in planar residue…tripping over the
prone Luciphage and falling on his Holy face.)

ASHTORATH. What the devil?! (He quickly gathers himself and stands, glancing
about furtively. His gaze falls upon the transgressor Luciphage, and he snarls
an angry epithet.) You fool! What sort of dunce would rest themselves against
the only source of extraplanar travel in this entire domain? Surely you, an
Emanation for Gorgaliel’s sake, would have more foresight than that?! (In a
rage, he grips Luciphage by the neck of his robes and hoists him up.)

LUCIPHAGE. (Perturbed.) Ashtorath. Ashto - put me DOWN! Control yourself! (He
wriggles free of the other man’s grip and looks up at him with concern and
more than a little fear.)

ASTORATH. (He pauses, fists held in that clenching position, before he realizes
what he’s done.) Oh. Oh my…Luciphage, old friend, I’m so sorry. Forgive
me. Magnagora was utterly chaotic today, moreso than others. It’s all abuzz
about that Cosmic Hope claptrap that Emperor Ladantine’s fronting.

LUCIPHAGE. (After a moment, smoothing his robes.) It’s quite alright â€" I
oughtn’t have been against it anyway. Cosmic Hope, a claptrap? I rather
thought you were looking forward to the expedition. I certainly am â€" it’s
remarkable to see these mortals taking our teachings to greater planes beyond.

ASHTORATH. It certainly is remarkable. Blasted irritating, though, in its
inception. One would think that the mages and politicians in the city had never
organized a thing in their lives.

LUCIPHAGE. (He shrugs, retrieving his staff.) It is a monumental occurrence â€"
of as much importance to us as it is them! What if there are other planes that
can be reached through the Stone of Truth? We are here to teach our own
precepts â€" what better way to sow them far afield than to go through another
plane or two?

ASHTORATH. (He laughs, a deep bass guffaw that shakes his frame.) Ah,
Luciphage, you’re so concerned with our educating the young and the ignorant.
I’m in agreement with you, friend, but I have my own duties as well.

LUCIPHAGE. Ah, Diplomacy. How could I forget?

ASHTORATH. (Grinning.) You couldn’t. (He glances over the heads of the
audience, in the direction of his palace, and upon looking back catches sight
of the amaranth lying still on the ground. He goes to retrieve it immediately,
examining it.) Was the Queen here?

LUCIPHAGE. She was, actually. Something was perturbing her. I inquired, and she
left in a hurry.

ASHTORATH. (Not tearing his gaze away from the flower.) What do you suppose is
the matter?

LUCIPHAGE. (Shrugging, oblivious to Ashtorath’s fascination.) Were I to
hazard a guess, I would suppose that it pertains to Gorgaliel’s frequent
absence. He won’t leave his damned chambers, not even to spend time with his
wife. I may be of the opinion that we should unerringly focus on the education
of our followers, so that they might make their own world a little more
perfect, but his Lordship takes it to the extreme.

ASHTORATH. Indeed. Perhaps I should return the Queen’s amaranth, and see if I
may be able to provide any…service.

LUCIPHAGE. A wonderful idea, my friend. Perhaps she’ll listen to you where
she would not to me.

ASHTORATH. Splendid idea. Fare well, Luciphage. (He exits after Nifilhema with
renewed purpose, amaranth held at the ready.)

LUCIPHAGE. (He glances at the sky as though contemplating.) Hm. Four days until
Cosmic Hope is scheduled to launch. Four days until we’re able to achieve
everything we could ever hope for.

(He glances to the Stone appraisingly, before moving along as the lights fade.
Blackout.)

Scene 4: Baalphegar's Sanctum

(A pool of arcane blue light is the only illumination or setting for this
scene. It is within Baalphegar’s sanctum, and it is he who stands at the
center of the light. We see his details for the first time in the blue glow â€"
he is the smallest of the Emanations physically, with ornate designs and marking
etched on his robes, his pale skin, the hood that obscures the top portion of
his face.)

BAALPHEGAR. I have spent the last month at the loom of the Fates, the weavers
of the path of the universe. I have spent many long weeks attempting to
decipher their cryptic prophecies; with these creatures concerned, there is no
precedent with which to base your conclusions. They prophesy aloud from their
own weavings â€" though for whose benefit, I should wonder? I fancy it to be my
own. They can see and understand their Tapestry where no mortal could hope to,
where even I cannot make out the design of a single embellishment to chart its
path. They speak aloud for their audience â€" for me, because I, Lord of
Wisdom, am the only being in this existence fit to know their secrets. They
have deemed it so. I have, through unerring and taxingly diligent study,
uncovered a piece of the Tapestry that has yet to occur. Therefore, I charge
you, the most loyal, most privileged of my Fatalists, to protect the Stone of
Truth on the day of the expedition. It must go forth as planned, for great
change will sweep the world, bringing true grace to all who are touched by it.
Is it not fitting, then, that we be the first to experience it? Go forth, and
perform as I have instructed. Keep silent your knowledge, for in secrecy no one
can best your power, discover your weaknesses, or destroy you as others would.

(The light fades down to a bare minimum, only faintly illuminating
Baalphegar’s figure. The Fatalists have gone.)

BAALPHEGAR. I go as well. I welcome this change, but I will not be so affected
by it as those three beings have predicted. A brief absence, and upon my
return, Shallamar will be the perfect realm that we’ve all desired.

(His body immediately collapses in on itself, robes crumpling to the floor. In
the light, millions of spiders emerge from under the cloth, spreading and
engulfing the room as the lights fade. Blackout.)

Scene 5: The Plains of Shallamar

(The plains of Shallamar once again, Stone of Truth rising in the background.
Everything is frozen in a stark white and grey cast on the entire scene.)

(Gorgaliel stands poised to one side of the Stone, reaching to channel the
energy for the expedition. The Stone flares with dark energy and Gorgaliel
barely has time for a single scream before his body melts, twists, and mutates
in mere moments as the dark energy courses through him, forming him into the
monstrosity that is known as Gorgulu.)

(A momentary blackout, and when the light returns, Ashtorath and Nifilhema are
standing to the left, gaping in horror at the scene that previously unfolded.
Nifilhema shrieks in horror and tries to run to the Stone, but Ashtorath grips
her in his viselike embrace and holds her back. Unable to reach Gorgaliel,
Nifilhema screams wildly, clawing at Ashtorath’s arms, clawing at her face,
her neck, her breast, ripping away shreds of skin, drawing blood in her sheer
anxiety. Ashtorath screams so loudly that the words are incomprehensible,
furious, raging â€" perhaps at Nifilhema’s abuse, at the Stone, at Gorgaliel
â€" but all attention is on the Stone.)

(Another momentary blackout, and the light returns to Luciphage standing before
the Stone, Baalphegar standing to the right of it. The gray pallor over the area
slowly turns to red as the scenery shapes itself from Shallamar’s plains into
Nil’s twisted wastes. The Stone of Truth rumbles and cracks asunder, torrents
of oil and gouts of smoke rising from it.)

(Baalphegar cackles malevolently, shoulders shaking as his voice shifts from a
normal timbre to a higher hiss, that hair-raising Voice that is his hallmark.)

(Luciphage looks horrified for a moment. Then, ever so slowly, his face is lit
by a truly unholy smile.)

LUCIPHAGE. My brethren have finally come ‘round. Such a shame that their
secret desires have warped them like this. My own goal? Only to surpass these
lesser Emanations, to reign supreme myself. The pristine aspects of beauty are
grafted onto an aegis of pain. The simmering irritations that lurk beneath
diplomacy erupt out in full force. Knowledge yields ultimate power, which in
turn corrupts ultimately. The ineffectuality of a ruler grants the power to
consume, the power to obliterate anything in his path. I, who existed as
mediator, keeper of my compatriots’ hopes and fears, shaped them into what
they have become. I gained the knowledge I needed to fulfill my own secret
desire.

(With a lightning flash, the silhouettes of Ashtorath, Gorgulu, Nifilhema, and
Baalphegar snap back into view, completely black, immobile visions of
damnation.)

LUCIPHAGE. (With a nasty chuckle.) All hail the Demon Lords of Nil!

(Blackout.)