I was reading some legends when I discovered potentially the most awesome event in the history of worldgens: a duel fought between two demon queens during a siege. I have compiled the relevant information (with some added flair, like backstory, etc.) into the following myth:
The Tale of the Two Demons:
translated from the Old Human by Loam
In a time before time, two demons walked the Underworld. These were beings of primordial evil powers, locked away in the bowels of Hell, and sealed from the world by the ancient gods and heroes in that time which is now dark.
There was Pestrat Atacimi Kamcamasli, a horrible abomination, half-human and half-mongoose, emaciated, and green like the sea, and bearing three eyes that burned wickedly. This demon, it is said, taught Greed to the ancients, and the arts of theft.
There was Zodod Uramsuslem Olzul Âs, a human form with the head of a lizard, covered in blood-red hair, slavering for destruction. Hers was Pride, and in the dark time she had brought slavery to the ancients.
And Zodod hated Pestrat, and Pestrat Zodod, for in the dark time they had been rivaled against each other for dominion: these, the two mightiest of the demons locked in Hell, were forever in conflict because of their ancient grudge.
It happened that, when the world was yet very young, Zodod, by craft or chance, made good an escape from the Underworld. But Pestrat watched her, and saw her means of escape, and contrived her own release. Thus it was that Zodod and Pestrat came again to the Overworld, and, though greatly it had changed, yet still they lusted for it. And Zodod was ignorant of Pestrat’s escape, and thought the world was hers for the taking; but Pestrat, knowing Zodod’s intent, contrived immediately to cast her down, and claim the world for herself…
In those early days the humans who would become the Godly Kingdoms were a loose confederation of tribes, sharing a common ancestry. Thus they were when Zodod came to them, after ten summers in the world. She came among them with show of power, and claimed herself to be Alnos, Master of Dogs, the goddess of thralldom. And for the greatness of her power and the ferocity of her appearance the people trembled, and threw themselves prostrate on the ground, and hailed her as a god. Zodod became their Master, and ruled in the kingdom for many years, teaching the humans crafts of war, and building up mighty armies with which she meant to conquer the world.
But in the very next year after Zodod’s trickery, Pestrat, who had followed Zodod in secret, came to the dark tower of Olngogon, and to the goblins who lived there, some miles north of the Godly Kingdom. Blazing in her full wrath and power she slew their king and called herself the Law-Giver, and the goblins trembled and obeyed. Thus Pestrat designed Zodod’s fall, and she taught her crafts to the goblins and fitted them for war.
When twenty-five summers had passed, word reached Zodod of a power stirring in the north. She sent out her spies, who reported of the goblins of the Brass Wickedness, and their arming for war, and their terrible demon queen. And Zodod knew it was Pestrat. So she called forth her armies, and leveled the full force of her might against Pestrat, assailing the black tower of Olngogon. But Pestrat was also learned in the arts of war, and the human armies were repelled from the goblin lands. And Pestrat laughed, looking down upon the furious Zodod and the fleeing mortals from her high seat, and the laugh echoed in Zodod’s ears, for she knew that Pestrat had bested her. So she retreated, to lick her wounds, and to forge new weapons, and to train new soldiers.
When eleven summers had passed since the first assault, Zodod deemed it was time to strike again. She brought her armies again to the terrible walls of the goblins, and blood ran thick on both sides and stained the white desert sands. But again the humans faltered, for the foe was strong, and they again retreated. And Pestrat laughed again – but in her heart was darkness, for the losses of the day had sapped her preparations for the greater wars she dreamed of, when she would march to Melaluth and cast the castle of Zodod into the sea, and wear her ancient enemy’s head upon her sword as the eternal victor.
When eighteen summers had passed since the second assault, Pestrat sent out her forces towards Zodod’s realms. But lo, Zodod had news of her preparations, for her spies were cunning, and led her armies to intercept. Ambushed by the humans in the desert, away from the power of their Queen, and faced with the wrath of Zodod before them, the goblins held not but turned and ran – for they are weak and quick to fear when the foe is mightier than they. And Zodod claimed a victory, and rallied the people of the Godly Kingdoms.
After fifteen years Zodod sieged Olngogon again, and was repelled: but the carnage her armies had wrought was great, and the forces of Pestrat weakened utterly. Thus when Zodod attacked again, after thirteen years, she commanded her full strength, brought all her soldiers to bear upon Pestrat in her black tower, and overcame the goblins: the armies of the Godly Kingdoms slew all the defenders, and Zodod strode into Olngogon victorious at last, and shackled Pestrat and humiliated her. For Zodod was cruel, and would not slay Pestrat, but meant her to be tortured and disgraced for all the years of the world. Thus she was brought in chains to Pabatamec and held prisoner there.
But chains cannot restrain the powers of the dark time: and though Pestrat was weakened she was not impotent. After six years of slavery she broke her bonds and slew her guards, and returned to Olngogon – only this time she did not seek power or command, but rather, she took up the sword and the crossbow, and became feared in both swordcraft and archery. For in her heart burned Vengeance, a power more primal and more terrible even than she.
And Zodod heard of her escape, and she feared: for Pestrat was both powerful and cunning, and she would devise a vengeance too terrible for words, and would enact it as soon as she could. Thus Zodod, feeling the weight of time, amassed the armies of her lands, and after five years she brought them once more to bear against Olngogon. And there came rushing to meet her the forces of the Brass Wickedness, and the terrible wrath of Pestrat among them. Then commenced the battle sung of in song as Bujitnashra, “The Scraped Attack,” and the songs tell of the fearsome power of Pestrat on the battlefield, feats which even Zodod the Master had not, and could not accomplish:
And o’er the white-hot burning sands she flew
And all the foes before her sword she slew
And stain’d the pure-white desert grains with blood
That flowed like to a river in its flood;
That onetime Demon-Queen, who from her throne
By war and battle bloody down was thrown.
She blazed, a glowing fire in the night
And foes before her fled her hellish light,
But from afar she’d stick them with her bow,
Which sent its darts, ne’er astray, but so
That every arrow quick as death it flew,
And every arrow struck its mark but true;
And in this frenzy cleavèd she a path
Through foemen by the score, hew’d down in wrath,
Until her sea-green fur was drenched in gore,
And made as red as hers whose death she swore.
All in all her rage alone slew twelve score of the six hundred men Zodod had brought to battle. And the men trembled and were afraid, and fain would have retreated; but in that hour came Zodod to the front. And in that fateful hour the conflict stopped, and the two armies gathered behind their champions; and what follows is the greatest battle that has ever been fought upon mortal soil, the last, the final battle between two ancient foes, two powers from before the dawn of time; and the hearts of both men and goblins, mere creatures of the earth, quailed at the fury of their immortal blows:
Aloft the Master lifted up her mace –
The head as large as man of mortal race
And spiked with black-stain’d iron, finely forged,
And streak’d with crimson hues of ruinous gore –
And with a cry that shook the arid ground,
That echoed into skies and pits profound,
She brought the heavy iron club to fall
On her whose present death would give her all.
But Pestrat swiftly swung her shield before,
For she was skill’d in all the arts of war,
And on the brazen top she caught the blow
And sent it reeling backwards, with her foe;
Then seizing on the chance she swung her blade
To bite into the flesh of her who lay
Upon the field; but like a lightning flash
Did Zodod move, and ere the sword could crash
Against her skull she rose again and leapt
Away from Pestrat’s speeding silver death.
The fallen Queen then threw her shield ahead,
Whose golden boss was of a lion’s head
Wreathèd like the sun with burning rays,
Though blacken’d now with blood, like night from day:
And with the heavy armor thus before
She brashly dared her enemy to more
And mock’d her as a coward, weak in blood,
No match for her who now opposèd stood.
Then of a sudden Zodod, filled with wrath,
And no more fearful, nothing holding back,
She charged her opposite, and smote her mace
Against the hard-wood shield’s well-bloodied face
With such a force that splinters flew like darts
As swift as from the hunter to the hart;
Strong blows she rained upon her rival’s shield,
And with each blow her rival ground would yield,
And lengthy cracks and fissures in the oak
The imminent collapse thereof bespoke.
Then suddenly, upon a rock behind
Her foot the Demon-Queen now stumbled blind,
And fell upon the earth, and sent up clouds
Of dust, that wrapp’d her ‘round like shrouds;
The Master then did laugh aloud with joy,
And like a birth-day child with its toy
She gaily swung the mace to crush her foe
And end her days of fear and hate and woe;
But Pestrat, ever quick in wit and war,
Rolled from the mace’s head which downward bore;
So that the blow that was to claim the land
Was stuck, impotent, buried in the sand.
Then rising swiftly Pestrat cast the shield
Away, and with both hands the sword did wield,
And in her wicked eyes burned vengeful hate
That only rival’s death could ever sate;
And with a wild swing of her fell sword
She hewed at Zodod, Master, Queen, and Lord;
But Zodod, wrenching free the buried mace,
Turned just in time the rival now to face,
And lunging fast aside, she kept her head
And caught the sword-blow ‘gainst her arm instead,
Whence now the mace, the muscles being clipp’d,
From out her loosen’d gripe now did it slip.
Pestrat now raised the shining sword on high,
Thinking her armless foe’s swift death was nigh;
But even as the weapon fell with might
Like lightning’s flame which sets the Earth alight,
The bloody hand of Zodod caught the edge
As downward it did fall towards her head,
And held it motionless in silent air,
And fixèd Pestrat with an evil stare.
Then with a movement like the adder’s strike
She wrench’d the weapon from the rival’s gripe,
And without taking pause or catching breath
She widely swung the crimson edge of death
And pass’d it through the temples of her foe;
Then time itself seemed fetter’d to move slow,
As Pestrat’s lifeless corpse, which late had wrought
Such awesome ruin, and such vengeful thought,
Sway’d, for a moment, in the wind –
Then fell upon the earth, and made an end.
At this the humans, filled with the lust of victory, drove forward with a cry and slew the goblin host, one and all. But Zodod stayed beside the body of her ancient enemy and laughed; and it is said that the laugh, which was so evil and terrible that the desert sands would not soak it up, still echoes in that land, as clear as on that day, so long ago, when the dreadful powers of the earth made all the earth quake with their battle.
From Legends:
Author
Topic: The Tale of Two Demons: A Story (and Poem) of War and Vengeance (Read 1729 times)