THE RISE OF A DEMON PRINCE
It has been nearly 400 years since the wars that ripped these lands apart had finally come to a time of near peace, all races pulling back to their desired corners of this world called Eberron. Centuries of war, centuries of death and conflict with nearly every being and from nearly every plane of existence the Material World had been brought to near ruin. Conflict is still steady in everyones mind and they only wait for the pieces of war to move against them and they will bring to fight what forces they have mustered in the 100 years since the treaty of thronehold.
It stirs, an ancient evil, far greater then the hordes of demons, the primordials or even the Gods could manage. An evil that began evil, that sprung it to life and unleashed it against the many worlds. Tiamet seeks to gain its trust by claiming the planes of existence and delivering that power to it for a boon. Can you believe it a deity, the Dragon queen herself wished to barter, to deal if you will. Why does she fear it so? What is this evil? Tiamet wages her wars of the planes and in the brink of takeover fates have turned in our favor. A message has been given that we will fight and we will not stand by to be whiped out of existence. She waits now in her fortress on the shadow plane, her forces freeing what primordials of the mortal world they can and delivering them to her as the plane of shadow squeezes in around her forcing her out. This is not where she wanted to be. Who could have altered the gates of sigil for this treachery, the demon web pits are not Lolths plaything and even though she has failed Tiamet for this she is still breathing the deity air. Deep in the abyss the lord of undead Orcus makes his way down the winding paths and darkend voids beneath Khorvaire to make a deal with Mestophelies himself for a few drops of his blood. What does the Demon Lord posess that this Devil could spare his ownselfs essence to attain it? Back in the Abyss Orcus waits for the time in the Draconic prophecies and lets flow the devil blood and the blood from his own hand to spawn a son of both Demon and Devil blood. This succubus better be strong enough... I cannot wait thousands of years for this moment to transpire again. Once complete it will be a piece to our way of living throughout the days of the upcomming darkness, a new tool for distruction.
He is born, if that is what it is, spawned from evils bowels and nurtured in the way that demons do. He is bred for corruption and from both his fathers the mother Abyss has bred him well. He is Tar' Nel, spawn of Orcus Demon/Devil able to lead the forces from both Hell and the Abyss into battle. But he is young and oh so greedy for power that he makes his own deals and now sides against his father and assists Tiamet on her quests moving troops through the worlds to her call and waging his own wars across the continent of Khorvaire. But he is stopped by is arrogance, as it consumes him he becomes cocky, unaware and it is his demise as we are ready to fight, and we were waiting. As his essence begins to slip away the heroes remain until the end their weapons still wet with Tar'Nels black blood. Without a thought eyes peering through the blackness envelope his body in blood red scales and as the fangs of the dragon ALBRATHRAX draw in the essence of a kill not his a beller, a scream so shaking that the ground itself cracks as Orcus, father of the spawn Tar'Nel appears, unaware of the heroes of Khorvaire.
The red serpent, He has betrayed Orcus for the last time, the look on his face when he relizes that his face still drips with Tar'Nels essence speaks minutely in an almost wisper, "it wasn't me.....". The 4th wand of Orcus hits home sending the Ancient Red Dragon nearly 100 feet away his claws digging into the muddied ground as the rains begin to come. " it wasn't me....." as the heroes watch as Orcus begins to pommel Albrathrax their nemesis with blow after blow his life fadding in his eyes. Does he not see us? Orcus black stinger sharpened on the rocky pits of the Abyss nearly hits home directly into Albrathrax's fire lung, but it is a miss. Albrathrax looks down at the fully outstreatched tail stopped dead meer inches from his cheastplate and he can't help but laugh. A fatal mistake. As he peers down the tail to the demon lord that weilds it fear grips him as he catches Orcus's stare. He will die this day. The blow from the wand causes his eyes to go unfocused as it hits home under his chin sending his wits out of him. Orcus lands inches from his face as his grip around Albrathrax tightens and the air ceases to fill his lungs his life being drained into the Demon Lord who notices in his lifeless eyes a reflection behind him. Do his eyes deceive him or could it be true. He turns and tosses the undead corpse of Albrathrax to the side to regain what it is left with. It is them the heroes that plague his every effort to get one more piece to use in the fight to come. They stare back at him ever ready, with death in thier eyes, has he turned them into this. He can't even smile at his work, he has underestimated them yet again. They have proven to be a much better ally but would they let him leave here in more then a bag of holding in pieces.
Do they know? I fear not and this war is not about our own bickerings of war this is the whole of things, the end of time. I will not fight them now, let them take me if they must but I cannot wait centuries for a rebirth that will not come for me if we do not fight now. They listen but of course they distrust me I am a demon lord, But they do listen I give them that they still hold on to what they belive in. We will continue our fight again when this is over. I know they will be much more then they are if they make it through this. I tell them what I know but only what they will believe or can understand, how can their minds fathom the inner workings of the worlds or the prophecies of those that created it all. I have touched those very pages I should kill them here and be done with it.... what is this.... something stops my very hand and the voice is to strong to go unnoticed. I take my dead spawn with me and my lapdog of a being Albrathrax follows quickly behind. I have much to ponder but so little time to do it. What do these heroes posess that I have been unable to aquire? Or have they yet to aquire it, but will? They will live for now, but I will not forget this act against me Demon or not he was mine to create, and mine to destroy. He had gone to far to control... Mestopholies.... he will find is was unwise to deceive me. I must find a stronger carrier of my spawn, but who? Much to ponder.
Orcus seeps back into the Abyss to his thronehold, the crown of Aundair no longer in his posession and his bag of holding contain a meer pinch of his collection of vast resources. Let them have it he thinks, they would never research all the items uses in enough time to make them valuable to them. The crown is tainted anyways, it is a gateway into this world sapping the life of the king who wears it. And Marcus late father longs to have it upon his brow, they would never fare well to keep it from him. Foolish king, blood only tainted with the Galifar line.