The Demon Child

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(OOC Note: This thread is the first of maybe 2-4 that take place in the past, basically to catch you guys up on some things, and lay a foundation for some others.)

“It is time sister. Have your minions seize him and deliver him to my palace.†A voice spoke calmly from the other side of a great opaline throne set amidst a great audience hall constructed of black marble and polished obsidian. In front of the throne, a lie a great mirror made of polished hematite, flanked by great porthios bedecked in gold. The image of a female Abat-Dolor shimmers in the mirror. “Our agreement will then be fulfilled.†The words slipped between a pair of yellow fangs.

“So soon, brother? I hadn’t expected you to call for him yet. Do you really think that wise? Certainly you know…†the image in the mirror was cut off.

“DO NOT QUESTION ME HAG! You have been paid in advance; when next he enters the shadows, seize him and deliver him to me! You better than any know what has begun. The legions of Baator once again stir. Soon dormant powers on both sides prepare to meet on a new battlefield, and I will NOT be absent THIS time!†spat the male Abat-Dolor sitting in the throne.

“Thanks to your incompetence, I have already learned of all this FAR later than I should have. I planned on having a great deal more preparation time, and may already arrive to this conflict too late to implement my full scheme. He still knows nothing of his true lineage, nor his power, and he is a KEY element to my plans.†The green glow of his eyes shown in contrast to jet black skin.

“Now question me no longer and do as I command, lest you default on our contract.†A six fingered hand rose, making a sweeping motion towards the mirror, and the image of the Abat-Dolor female vanished.

“Unhath!†The male voice now boomed. “Reluhantis!â€

A pair of mariliths emerged from behind two of the porthios nearby.

“Yessssssss, my prince.†The demons spoke in unison.

“Go to Rhyxali’s court. See to it that my dear sister makes haste in finding him. And, since you will be there, pay visit to her menial, Viractuth, in the great library, and discern the last known location of ‘The Initiator’.†The Dark Prince commanded his servants who bowed and slithered away, leaving him alone on his throne pondering this irritating tardiness of information.
 
part II

(OOC Note: This takes place shortly after the first post above, which is actually MANY MANY MANY years, probably decades or centuries, prior to the events here on .ORG, and explains not only Derrik's past, but will also explain his absence from Vat and Darren for the past like 8-10 real time years that I haven't played. Basically I need to find out from Brad or Jay, approx. how many IC years have gone by for Darren and Vat since the last time Derrik was around. Then I can give you a more accurate account of when this is taking place. But roughly, Derrik would be in his mid-twenties here.)


A cool breeze swept over the once abandoned keep. Derrik had been coming here for years now, his little get away from the madness that was the world, and his life. He thought back to when his life was simple. Bitterness flooded through him. He thought back of days long past growing up on the Darglore estate. Derrik was the youngest of his clan, and was always the whipping boy for his older siblings, all of them save Vaticus.

Several things may have attributed to his siblings feelings towards him. Some may have been simply because he was the youngest and smallest, but there was also the fact that, though Derrik was by far the most attractive of the family (not to say the rest were ugly, just that Derrik was exceptionally handsome even from birth) he had a birth defect, he was born with 6 fingers on both hands, and 6 toes on both feet. This was a constant target of ridicule and torment, but it wasn’t until Derrik became a bit older that it really got bad. In his early adolescence Derrik became sexually active and quickly discovered that he was bisexual, and had a voracious sexual appetite. Many of his siblings didn’t take to well to this, nor to the fact that Derrik felt there nothing to be wrong with it. Many of them thought this to be a disgrace to the family name and simply an abomination in itself and Derrik was often attacked, beaten and tormented.

Vaticus on the other hand, for the most part ignored Derrik except in two instances. When the other siblings were attacking or otherwise giving Derrik a hard time, Vaticus being the eldest, as a teenager must have felt compelled to look after his baby brother, and often came to Derriks aid, delivering brutal beatings to those attacking him. This caused many of the brothers to talk behind Vaticus’ back about how he must be defending Derrik in exchange for some sort of sexual favors. If Vaticus did hear these comments, he shrugged them off, for he cared not of false rumors. He knew there were countless girls who lusted over his young physique and he often took at advantage of that fact.

The times he was alone with Derrik, weren’t spent in the perverse fashion as the rumors. Rather, this is the time he actually took little Derrik under his wing, so to speak, and taught him about how to wield weapons, the basics of magic, and impressed on him the urgency to be discreet in any of his actions, regardless of what they were. These training sessions were far from light sparring, and often times Derrik would return home battered, bruised, bleeding or worse. But he figured, at least these beatings had been endured learning something.

Derrik often wondered why Vat had been such a protector to him growing up, wondering if his older brother actually cared for him or if it was something else, as it certainly seemed as though Vaticus truly cared for none other than himself.

With a sigh Derrik rose to his feet thinking he might have to pay a visit to his brother sometime soon. He stepped away from the cliff overlooking the moonlit lake and began to pull the shadows of his cape about him, and they slowly began to draw him into the shadow realm. Just as the shadows played across his face and were about to completely envelop him, something snatched his leg, a glimpse of shock and fear struck his face just before he disappeared… sucked into the shadows.
 
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part III

The unconsciousness faded as Derrik gazed around. He was in the shadow realm no doubt, but it wasn't any part of it he recalled from his past travels. He was laid out on a grand bed, only a black silken sheet separated the chill air of the shadow realm from his slender, bare body; yet he was remarkably warm. Derrik rose from bed trying to piece together what had happened, and looking around in vain for his clothes. Distracted by this, he didn’t notice the great hematite door across the room glide open silently.

A tall shapely woman, with skin like polished obsidian, long black hair, green eyes, and yellow fangs, seemed to glide silently into the room behind him. She wore shadows as a gown that hid every part of her body save the neck up.

“She a gorgeous subject… for a human, indeed your father imbued you with his beauty and charisma.” She cooed.

Derrik spun around in alarm in a defensive posture, completely forgetting that he was completely nude. The woman’s words struck Derrik as a bit odd, as his father was not exactly an overly attractive man.

“Indeed you have picked up many of his traits.” A coy smile played across her lips as she studied him.

“Who are you, and why have you taken me here?” Derrik retorted in a harsh tone, then suddenly realizing his state of undress, added. “And where are my belongings?”

“Easy child, your questions will be answered soon enough. As for your coverings, you may have them back. However, I thought you may be interested in some more suitable garments.” The words emanated from her now with a cold detachment as she waved a shadow-covered arm towards a back wall, which vanished revealing a vast wardrobe. “Select whatever pleases you and exit this room. My servants will escort you to me from there.” With that, she turned and exited the massive bedroom.

Derrik entered the wardrobe and selected for himself an outfit of black silk bottoms, and a black and blood red top adorned with gold. Surprising enough, everything in the entire room seemed as though it were custom tailored for him. Satisfied, he turned and exited the room as the strange woman had done.

Outside the room, two shadow demons stood awaiting him and, as described before, they led him to a great banquet room. The same woman sat on the head of the table with a large goblet of red liquid in her hand. With the amount of food that was on the table Derrik thought that there must be some grand gathering that he was attending. Derrik made as if to speak, but the woman beat him to it.

“As for your questions earlier, I am Rhyxali, Princess of Shadow and you are in The Abyss at my home layer of Shaddonon. As for why you have been brought here, I was merely charged with delivering you to the one who requires a meeting with you; my brother Graz’zt the Dark Prince. I have a Nightmare waiting for you at the boundries of my realm to bear you to Azzagrat where my brother resides, but first you should eat, that mortal shell of yours still requires sustenance.” Rhyxali rose from her seat and, moving silently, exited the room.

No one joined Derrik for the enormous feast however he was famished and ate more than his share. He was very confused with the actions of this woman calling her Rhyxali, though he now supposed that due to where he was at, and the manner in which she acted that she was no woman at all, but rather a demon. This seemed a logical conclusion for him as he reflected back on the title with which she introduced herself; ‘Princess of Shadow’ echoed in his mind, and her face was etched in his memory.

After a very satisfying meal, Derrik rose from the table and set about to find this Nightmare that was waiting for him. No sooner had he left the main banquet room, did he find the same two shadow-demons (or at least they looked the same) waiting to escort him to his mount.

Still some distance away, Derrik could see the firey mane and the flames licking off the hooves of the demon-steed. As they approached Derrik was able to grasp the true size of the animal. It stood nearly nine feet tall at the shoulder, and had to bend down to allow Derrik to climb upon it.

The beast let out a smoke filled snort and they were off to Azzagrat.
 
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part IV

(OOC Note: Final chapter of the Demon Child here; warning Adult Content Warning on this one. If you're offended by the notion of [I've spared you all from details] male-male sexual acts, and incest, then you may wish to discontinue reading. I've done quite a bit of research on Graz'zt who it is stated, is the most attractive, and sexual of all the Abyss, often relying on his mastery of seduction and guile before his other powers. It does not seem far fetched to me that a chaotic demon prince would be oblivious to the moral objections of same-sex acts or incestuous relations. This chapter does pull it all together and explain a lot about him as well as the movements being made by the characters involved herein. Again, I trust the OOC knowledge you gain by reading this whole thread will not be taken IC until such time as your character learns it, or it becomes common knowledge.)


Derrik’s mind was a cyclone of confusion, as the Nightmare bore him across the Abysall layers towards Azzagrat. Why had he been so abruptly snatched from his quiet evening? What business did the Dark Prince, Graz’zt have with one as, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, as him? Why did this demon princess make all those comments about his father? All these questions and more swirled through his head as he arrived at an immense palace. Two creatures, somewhat like centaurs with human torsos, but one with the body of a Bengal tiger, and the other of the Siberian, greeted him at the entrance. They dismissed Rhyxali’s servant and escorted Derrik to Graz’zts court.

Great obsidian pillars towered above Derrik supporting a celing so high he couldn’t even see it. Blood red tapestries and carpets adorned the hall that was constructed, and green lighting crackled its way along the floor and up the pillars. A great onyx throne adorned in gold some 12” tall sat facing away from the only entrance. The back wall which it faced was made of some black element, something like polished hematite creating a surface much like a mirror. Due to the emense size of the throne, Derrik couldn’t tell if there was anyone seated in it. Almost, as if a response to Derrik’s wondering, the great throne began to turn around, the stone floor it rest on, almost silently after eons of use. Derrik glanced around quickly and noticed the centaur-like tiger creatures were gone. Derrik’s gaze fell back on the throne as the figure seated upon it now shifted his gaze toward him, the throne now grinding to a stop.

Graz’zt rose to his feet, standing 9 feet tall, he towered over Derrik’s slender 5’6” frame. His skin gleamed like polished obsidian, his eyes glittered a malevolent green. 6 black horns protruded from his skull, but were hidden in his spikey black hair, and Derrik noticed to his surprise how similar the garments he had selected in Rhyxali’s palace were to the ones worn by the Dark Prince. He was gorgeous, more gorgeous than any man or woman Derrik had ever seen.

“You have found your way here long before I would have hoped, but it can be delayed no longer.” yellow fangs emerged from beneath his grey lips as he spoke.

“Before you had hoped? Delayed no longer? What do you mean?” Derrik asked thoroughly confused.

“There’s much you don’t know Derrik, even about yourself. The Darglore family has many secrets that they hide from the world, but you are the secret that has been hidden even from them. Several years after your other brothers were born, your so-called 'father' was out of the manor for several weeks attending to the business of the estate; it was at that time that I chose to appear before your mother in the image of the father of your brothers.” Graz’zt whispered into Derrik’s ear as he placed one arm over Derrik’s shoulder, ushering him towards the great mirror behind the throne. Derrik’s gaze was on the floor.

“Gaze now upon your true form…”
Graz’zt voice tickled Derrik’s ear with a strange sensual feel. Graz’zts hand moved to lift Derrik’s chin, shifting his gaze to the great mirror and it was only then that Derrik noticed the 6 fingers on the Dark Prince’s hand.

“… that of my son." Graz’zts words hit Derrik like an orgasm as he stood staring at his own reflection. Derrik was now the spitting image of the demon, only 3 ½ feet shorter. His hair now hid 6 black horns, his skin had taken the same black shine, his eyes held the same green glow, and he still had all 6 fingers that he has always been accustomed to.

"I placed a great multitude of magics on you that night to conceal your identity until time came for me to reveal it to you, the only thing I could not hide were the extra digits, which were easily mistaken for a birth defect.”

Derrik stood dumbfounded, confused, yet some how tings began to make sense. At that moment, something happened Derrik didn’t expect, even after the shocking events of the day, this was mind blowing.

Graz’zt raised Derriks gaze to his own, and then leaned forward and kissed his son. Not a fatherly kiss, but a lustful one, but coming from the perverse demon known for his insatiable sexual appetite, it may well have been something he had looked forward to since Derrik’s conception.

Derrik was paralyzed by fear, pleasure, confusion, power, disgust, and lust all at once. This demon, this gorgeous demon whom he now resembled. This demon that was claiming to be his father, was now kissing him lustfully, lifting Derrik into his powerful arms. Derrk’s mind tried to tell him this was wrong and perverse, but every ounce of his being screamed that it was right.

The son stayed locked in the fathers embrace as they retired to a chamber behind the throne room.

Graz’zt sealed the chambers’ portal and proceeded to imbue his son with the powers of the Dark Prince by sharing with him a variety of perverse sexual acts, fulfilling all of Derrik’s twisted, unspoken sexual fantasies, and his lust for power, yet leaving him with an insatiable hunger for more. The demon seed that once conceived him, now filled Derrik with power greater than he had ever imagined obtaining on his own.

Derrik took the name Draxtalis when interacting with other demons and spent a great many years living in Azzagrat, learning of his demon heritage, harnessing his new found powers, and being instructed in the politics of The Abyss, and conduct befitting the heir of an Abyssal Prince. Graz’zt educated him on his enemies within the Abyss, chief among them being, Demogorgon the Prince of Demons; who’s title Graz’zt lusted over, and Orcus, another Demon Prince battling for Demogorgon’s title. Derrik also learned of the Blood War that had existed for eons between the demons of The Abyss and the devils of Baator, The Nine Hells. It was a great deal later that Rhyxali informed Graz’zt and Draxtalis of the awakening of The Hidden Lord in Ayenee, and their plan was formed.

It was time Derrik returned to the realm of Ayenee.
 
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