Tales From the Crypt - The 20 Year War

[Cyrax]

Part I


Exiting from a rip in time and space, Cyrax arrived on the peak of Kragrok Mountain in the western territories of the Underworld. He was extremely tired due to the major drain on his magical power. To create and hold two fully functional clones in the world at once could only be mastered by a dark magician. If the fake Cyrax's created clones they would only be images used to frighten or deceive the enemy. Either way he was glad to be back home and the putrid stench of death, lingering in the air, was so sweet to his non-existent nose!

"Glorious!" he yelled, opening with decrepit arms to welcome the destruction that was taking place.

Hideous laughter echoed through the mountains, followed by black smoke rolling in torrents from his voided face. He was, after all, a master manipulator and doing just that was so much fun for him! To end or give life whenever he wished made him feel like a god! To toil with the lives of people or heroes, like puppets, was what he specialized in!

However, one would be a fool if they thought his all seeing eyes and all encompassing mind would be held to only one realm.

"Bwahahahahaha!"

Everything was falling into place he thought while walking, slowly due to weakness, toward a cliff's edge. He would be instrumental in the events which were soon to play themself out like a dramatic play written by the evil Demon himself! Hell, why just write the story when one could partake as the lead role!

Below there was a battlefield, located in the kingdom of Moridion to be exact, and the piled bodies along with he smell of fresh death was easy to discern its recent conflict. If that were not enough, raging fires were still burning siege equipment which seemed to have been on their way to a battle. The most likely scenario, Cyrax thought, would be an army of Warlord Kamurk coming from the east to besiege Moridion, the capital of Cyrax's chosen ally. What did this so called allegiance mean?

Cyrax, former second in command to all the Underworld armies, during the reign of Stratus, was looked upon as a god to the dreaded populace. He was the undefeated Champion of the Arena, the Grand Strategist of the army, and overall preacher of death in destruction; acting as an evil Pope of sorts. What that meant was that whoever Cyrax chose to 'back' as the next Demon King it was more than likely that they would rise to the throne!

The most ironic part of it all was that none can truly trust the dark magician. For all any of them knew, warlord or king, he could and possibly would betray at any moment if he felt the need to take control. Such was the way it worked, the incredible power and skill of an ally with the risk of betrayal.

So, in some way the two realms were the same. A maxim which states: as above, so below would seem to prove true in that regard.

However, Cyrax's days of plotting for the crown were over and he cared not for fame or fortune now. Power was always of interest but he had always possessed over abundances of that. Now he enjoyed the simple life. Carving up victims, reading ancient scripts, and casually planning the demise of the entire 'living' realm was a normal way to relax in his semi retirement!

"I'm feeling much better"

A crooked smile, so dark and so evil, was spread across his void face and only if he had actual features would one be able to notice. It was a good thing though, for they would see the almost retarded look in his eye. A look that would make most sh*t themself and wonder if he was a genius or certified lunatic. Cyrax would probably say both!

Diving, or rather falling, off the cliff edge he began the long descent to the bottom of the mountain.

Halfway to the ground his Demon wings expanded to slow the fall and from the current height he had a clear view of field below. Banners of both armies were scattered across the battlefield, but it looked as if the invaders were beat back because their siege equipment was still smoldering. That fact made Cyrax smile!

However, his chosen warlord was losing territory and it was clear to Cyrax that the vacation in the other realm was taking its toll on his master plans.

"But i was having so much fun......."

If he could pout, he would have but then he realized that not everyone could transcend space and time quite like him. Well, there was Damian Thakis but that is another story altogether.

"I will meet with Marok, then return to continue the novel i started writing!" he said, followed by a cruel laugh.

"It is part horror and part romance........ i can not wait!"

Again he began to laugh, but this time he kept going for a good few minutes. Something was going on in that endless void of a head and only he knew what bizarre twists and turns he would have for everyone he manipulated.

[Cyrax]

Part II


Cyrax traveled through harsh terrain while moving along the main road to Marok's keep. The lands of Moridion were not friendly to ally or enemy and he wondered again why his wings were not being used. However, it seemed he wanted a slight challenge this time seeing as how all his encounters with other beings and creatures were a worthless waste of his power.

Heat was certainly not lacking in the area and it was due to open cracks in the ground with exposed lava. Along with the deadly, thick, molten rock there was endless baron land with a few jagged mountain peaks. Inside the mountains and also the lava itself there were creatures that not even Cyrax wanted to deal with. Most monsters in the Underworld were loyal to the Demon King, but when Stratus fell their allegiance turned to only themselves. Still, if any thing living here had even the slightest intelligence it would know to keep its distance from the evil magician.

Two large mountains flanked Cyrax on each side, creating a valley, and in the distance he could finally see the castle. Stepping over a small pit, the dark magician thought of recent defeats by the forces of Moridion. They had lost momentum and although Marok was an indomitable warrior, his tactical abilities were lacking.

Warlord Kamurk, the main enemy to Marok, was well known throughout the Underworld, even threatening Stratus' rule at one point, and his armies were mighty. He would be a foe that Cyrax would look forward to meeting, seeing as how the enemy ruler never stepped in the Arena with him. Warlord Marok never challenged either as Cyrax was just too powerful; his command over the dark arts something that could not be matched.

It was no wonder the evil magician had plans for ruling the Underworld. He was powerul and feared, a combination which any dictator would kill for. Still, even if he could have defeated Stratus he would not have tried. The Demon King was mighty, indeed, and the only worthy to have Cyrax serve them without question. It was only when Stratus seemed weak, due to enemy allied victories, that the dark master began to become selfish. He knew now though, that he was a fool for allowing his former king to fall. Due to his ignorance and greed the Underworld has been warring against itself for 20 years. Kings kept the weak in their place with leadership and military might. After Stratus lost control of the nether realm all hell broke lose, into a raging civil war.

"Bwahahahahahahaha!"

Cyrax began to laugh as he approached the castle. He did not give a shit how many Demons died as long as he had his fun! Manipulating the most powerful and having his hands at reaching length from total control of two realms was most enjoyable!

Finally, in the distance, the main gates to Moridion Castle could be seen by the visitor as he approached. Blackened wings disappeared behind his back, showing his laziness after deciding to not climb the endless stairs to reach his goal.



"Open the gates!"

It was not Cyrax who commanded the gates be opened, but instead one of the two sentries on patrol. The presence of something so dark and evil swept over the guard and he needed no other introduction.

"Inform our lord" he snarled.

The other, lower ranking soldier, moved toward the main keep to tell Marok of Cyrax's arrival. However, as he went forward, Cyrax appeared ahead of him! Eventually, after running, the Demon passed the visitor and thought he was imagining things. Again though, the dark magician appeared ahead of him!

"Huh?"

The Demon ran as fast as he could to reach the doors to the keep first. He could possibly be killed for his allowing a visitor to reach Marok before he could inform him. Certainly the warlord would not want to be bothered, in his current aggravated state, after losing multiple battles to his nemesis Kamurk. However, there was nothing the guard could do because Cyrax was already inside and the doors were closed!

Two Demon warriors, standing guard at the keep doors, lower their poleblades to the sentry's throat.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, not understanding how his own comrades had turned on him.

Suddenly, however, their eyes began to glow a purplish color as opposed to their normal red. The two were being controlled by Cyrax now and the keep was off limits during his visit.

The sentry backed away and moved to the front gates again to inform his comrade there of what happened. It was too difficult for many to know whether the evil magician was friend or foe. Hell, no one knew for sure!

"I assume that there is some pathetic excuse for your late arrival......."

The voice, so deep and dark, was that of Marok; the fully armored warrior sitting upon a throne of skulls opposite of Cyrax.

"Let me guess, you were toiling with some of your useless experiments?"

Cyrax simply laughed at the comments, knowing all too well that Marok was infuriated at his recent vacation. With the master strategist present, the forces of Moridion were unstoppable and crushed Warlord Kamurk in three consecutive battles which resulted in the loss of Karak. The stronghold, located near the center of the Underworld, resided on the western territories of Kamurk's kingdom. After Cyrax left, Marok's enemies were able to overcome him at Karak and then again in the open plains, beyond the valley, in Moridion.

"It is not my fault that you and your weak minions are lacking in any tactical ability" he muttered, with dark smoke exiting his face shortly after.

Rising from his throne of death, Marok began to move toward Pain which was hovering above an illuminated slab of stone. The poleblade's tip was glowing with a crimson color and it seemed to increase with strength when Marok got closer.

"Now....now"

Cyrax stood, with a decrepit hand extended toward his ally, and Marok soon found he could not move!

"Your anger serves you well on the battlefield" Cyrax stated, while also thinking of its service to himself as well.

"However, your lack of constraint will be your downfall!"

Marok's temper was brutal, as was Stratus', but he did not have the same level of respect from Cyrax. The strategist would roll his gleaming eyes and simply take the abuse from Stratus knowing it would be worth it in the long run. However, this younger, eerily similar, Demon had yet to prove his true worth to the evil magician. Cyrax would destroy him with ease if it were not for the uneasy feeling of extended chaos for eternity. Even the Underworld needed peace, of sorts, for when and if an exterior threat arrived they would be in no position to defend. To think that there were only two realms in all existence would make one an ignorant fool!

No, Marok would rule with Cyrax pulling the strings as he always did! If Marok could not grow strong enough to rule than he would be slain and another would be chosen to rule. Chosen by Cyrax, that is.

The evil magician moved toward the throne and had the audacity to take a seat upon it!!

Marok gritted his teeth, almost snapping his jaw with rage, and his eyes began to glow a bright crimson. However, after a few seconds of thought his eyes began to fade in clor and his clenched gauntlets released.

Moving down the few stairs, ahead of the throne, Marok's heavy armor sent echoes throughout the hall. A tattered and torn cape was upon his back, serving as proof of his countless encounters with enemy blades. When reaching his destination, the warlord turned and bowed to Cyrax!

"I have no choice but to serve" he muttered, clearly not pleased with the current situation.

"What would you have me do?"

Cyrax tapped his non-existent chin and thought for a few moments. He knew exactly what he wanted, but he needed to taunt Marok by taking his time.

"Gather your armies!"

[Cyrax]

Part III


Moridion Left Flank

"Put your backs into it!!"

A Demon soldier from the rear line of the spear group yelled to his comrades as an enemy body flew overhead. The front had just engaged with charging cavalry and infantry, sending the former to their doom with relative ease. Even demonic horses could not withstand the might of a spiked wall!

The typical gleam from spear tips seemed to be non-existent upon the long weapons of the Moridion infantry. Light from pools of lava, in the near distance, showed the tainted blades which were still covered in dried blood from past battles.

It was a simple observation for any Demon in the Underworld. If you had a shining new blade than you were a grunt! If not, you were more than likely a veteran of the wars or just lucky enough to slay a grunt and steal his new weapon!

Black blood spattered the armor of multiple soldiers in the area as Balrak crushed the head of an enemy soldier with his battle hammer. He was a captain in the Moridion army, a skilled warrior, and also in command of the left flank. His soldiers were fighting hard, but relentless cavalry charges were wearing his numbers thin.

"Garrr......How many wretched horses do they have!?" he exclaimed, while witnessing a few of his spear troops being launched into the air after a powerful charge.

"They are crazed, sir, and charge directly into our spears!"

In the distance, behind the ocean of enemies already engaged, were fresh reinforcements sent by Warlord Kamurk. It seemed the leader of Grindaria could sense the weakness on his right flank and ordered the Demon soldiers to move. However, he was not the only one to sense the weakened defenses of the troops there.

"Send for aid!" the soldier exclaimed to his captain, hoping that Balrak would put aside his honor for logic.

The captain nodded, ashamed to call for aid, and quickly turned to slay another enemy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Moridion Right Flank

"Now!"

A deadly volley was launched into the rear lines of Kamurk's left flank as they charged forward to gain glory in the name of Grindaria. The call to let loose was from a warrior named Cretan, the captain of the Moridion right. He was leading two groups of Demons, one of swords and the other of archers.

Calls of pain and suffering echoed throughout the battlefield as units collided with one another. Sword to armor, shield to face, axe to throat, and spear to the chest were just a few of the horrific sounds heard on the right flank. Heads were rolling this way and that with both armies hacking away at each other.

Soldiers at the rear of Kamurk's left again come under attack by arrows and they fall like dead blades of grass. Of course, one would never see any green life in the Underworld and instead only tumble weeds of Galgamek hair could be seen occasionaly. Most of the landscape was either impassable mountainous terrain, endless red dunes, or rivers of molten rock!

Grindaria had spear and sword units present there, to Cretan's despair, and with his lone group of melee troops the situation was looking dire.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Moridion Center

"Die!"

A Moridion axe warrior trimmed the head of an enemy before moving to aid his comrade who was struggling in a deadlock. The soldier buried his axe into the back of the Grindarian Demon and hacked the body a few more times when it fell!

In the center were units of Demon axes and pikes as well as heavy cavalry. The demonic horse units were under the direct command of Marok, as was the entire army, but the elite riders were his personal guard.

The Warlord of Moridion was seated upon his war horse awaiting the moment when he would charge forward to slaughter the enemy. His presence was dreadful and his armor most intimidating. A tattered cape flowed behind him, creating a dark backdrop for his horned helmet and crimson red eyes! In his hand was a poleblade named Pain. Its name was well deserved, of that one could be sure!

"Where is that decrepit old fool!?" he grumbled, clenching his left gauntlet.

It seemed Cyrax had left the field of battle to handle business, as he would call it. Not even Marok knew what he was up to, but the Warlord was growing increasingly angry with every passing minute.

With Marok in the center, it seemed there was nothing Kamurk could do to break through. None would dare go too close to the dark knight for fear of getting eviscerated into nothingness!

Soon enough though, Marok decided to move toward the right flank to aid Cretan. As he moved with his group of 500 elite riders, Cyrax suddenly appeared barring his way! Marok raised his fist to halt the cavalry and yelled out to the dark magician, questioning where the hell he went.

"Do you think i would let you destroy my reputation?"

Cyrax shook his head in disgust and would not allow defeat even if he had to slay the entire enemy army himself!

"We shall take the left!" the dark magician exclaimed.

Two blackened wings appeared on Cyrax's back and he soared into the dark sky, moving toward the left. Marok and his elites were still wondering what Cyrax meant by 'we' when a bizarre clicking was heard.

From the rear of the Moridion force, 300 Orachnids arrive to aid Cyrax their master!

For the less knowledgable, an Orachnid is an Orc and Spider fused together. They were very mobile and strong with melee weapons. Basically Cyrax's twisted version of cavalry!!

"Attack, my sweet children!"

Bone chilling screams escape the Orc heads of the Orachnids as they rush into the right flank of the Grindarian forces. The creatures wield a medley of weaponry from swords to hammers and are also known to bite the heads off their enemies!!