Bowing down on one knee so that the long cape of his black and gold uniform spread over the floor of the balcony Prince Moloch of the Land of Tears, Grand Cross of the Order, kept his eyes aimed at the space of marble floor in front of him. His humbled attitude made him agitated as he awaited the arrival of his lord and master.
Soon, thought Moloch. Soon HE will rise and lead us again.
Moloch shook slightly with anticipation and excitement and fear as the moment drew nearer. After almost three thousand generations HE was about to return. And amidst that return would come the reality of the prophecy of the antediluvian Seven Cities of the Dead. Moloch grinned under his mask of black and burned human integument, raised over his own face to conceal his horrific physiognomy. He dared to glance up from his downward cast vigil and was greeted with a sight that made him speechless with awe.
For thousands of miles in every direction were gathered the armies of the ancient Black Earth. Millions upon millions of servants of unquestionable faith and loyalty, baring banners and weapons of every kind and purpose, were all waiting as silently and patiently as he. And beyond them all, far, far off in the distance, the enormous oppressive shape of Pestilence Mount. And shining up from behind that in to a blood red sky was an obscured vision of what was striving to be a setting sun.
Moloch tried to avert his eyes once more but found himself transfixed by the wondrously morbid sight that was only to be seen in nightmares of mortals. Fighting inwardly to overcome his awe he felt soft tremors at first vibrate gently through his hands from the balcony travel through his arms.
It begins, was his joyous thought as the vibrations rapidly became stronger and stronger to the point of violently shaking the building and his balcony he knelt on. The marble floor cracked beneath his hands under the stress of being shaken and torn in every different direction possible. From behind and above came the pieces of his fortress-palace as it too started to crumble under the exertions of the ground shaking. Marble fell in chunks or as dark powder as the rising of the anticipated creature slowly gathered to its full momentum.
Below his place on the now broken balcony the collected masses of the dark warriors howled and screamed in an almost perversely corrupt and malcontent jubilation. All held aloft the banners and weapons fashioned by their own hands in recognition of their allegiance to one of the now rising beasts many adepts. The noise they made in greeting to their overall lord and master filled the air as if trying to blot out the pale light from the weak sol.
Turning his attention from the warriors to Pestilence Mount Moloch observed the crumbling and slow felling of the great structure as it allowed itself to be punctured from within by the beasts ascension. First to break in to the dim diseased light of the nether world was the tip of one huge and twisted wing. It was immediately followed by a wing of black leathery vein that erupted forth in a shower of rock and cooled solid lava.
The discord of the warriors grew more intense as the wing emerged and thrashed about wildly while the creature trapped within the mountain tried to break itself free. Suddenly there was a thunderous roan as the remaining top side of the mount gave way to a second huge wing of black. The incarcerated beast struggled more fervently and was rewarded with the freeing of its arched and grotesquely ridged back. The dark form appeared almost invisible in the quickly darkening sky above as the freed deity rose upwards. Standing to its full magnificent and gigantic height.
Moloch closed his eyes in veneration as he gave silent praise for the rising malformation before him. The beasts laughter that succeeded his prayer broke in to a loud vociferate that shook the balcony on which he remained knelt and the ground on which the warrior hordes stood.
This is it, thought Moloch as his eyes took in the sight of the great deity standing over its armies and crying out irreligious declarations of unholy war.
“This is it; the ascension is complete, and the war soon won.” He said as he stood and joined in the howls and screams of the thankful welcome being given by the aggressor hordes.
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