Thy Flesh Consumed

by tankmanbrony


Chapter Four: Return to Darkness

Gorrog awoke with a start. The fire had died down to coals and the night still lingered in the air. The forest canopy blocked most of the sun light and the cries of animals made it near impossible for him to hear if something was sneaking up on him. Around him, the other Hell Knights slowly awoke from their rests, the earth under them was bare, the mosses and other small plants were nowhere to be found.
Coming to his full height Gorrog examined the area around them, his eyes sweeping for any threat the forest might present. The glow of the Baron’s eyes signaled his return, the thud of his footsteps muffled by the soft ground.
The Baron ducked under a branch and faced Gorrog, and something flashed across his eyes, what it was Gorrog did not know.
“Baron, why were you out, this early?”
“I was doing a slight scouting run, and Gorrog, we should veer right to avoid a large lake that would be in our way.”
“Thank you, then Baron. How far should we turn to avoid this lake?”
“I’d guess about a mile, but not much farther as, we don’t have any idea what this forest might hold.”
They had set off on their slight detour when a slight chill started to creep into the air, initially causing great alarm, but when they did not get attacked by the goddess of the moon, they continued, but much more cautiously.
Upon settling down for the night beside a group of trees Gorrog finally noticed how hard the ground was becoming. He had seen how the air steamed off them early mornings but had thought little of it, yet now not much else was on his mind, as frost had started to accompany the morning sun each new day. This gave Gorrog pause, as he had no experience of winter or the cold for that matter, with the sole exception of the later battles in the previous war.

Later that day, Gorrog noticed the forest thinning, and rays of sunshine broke through the canopy.
“Have we reached the edge of this forest?”
“I think so, Gorrog but I doubt that it will have a marked improvement, yet I can feel the call of Hell growing stronger.”
“As do I Abkesh, but this is the last thing separating us from my fortress, we only have to cross the Plains of Tears.”
“Gorrog, when we do how do you know that we won’t be spotted by the scouts of the Moon Tyrant? I didn’t exactly leave any indication that it wasn’t a demonic attack.”
“Baron, we must cross it with haste, and hope that we can shoot down any scouts above us, also I suspect we shall have other things to worry about. We are not exactly an easily dispatched group of Imps.”
Later as the sun sunk beneath the horizon and bathed him it golden glow, Gorrog’s eye’s finally returned to the field where his army was defeated and driven back to his citadel.
“This is the start of our rising to power, with our power we shall send a clear signal to my army that the time for conquest has returned, and with them shall come the other hordes. Soon we shall conquer this world.”
Gorrog, the Baron, and his personal guard looked out across the field, the call of Hell pulling towards it. The moon had risen when they passed the remnants of a small skirmish from the war, the burned bodies of ponies, their blackened skeletons casting a dark presence over the area. Yet as Gorrog took a closer look at them, he noticed something; none of these ponies had the characteristic crushed bones, or broken forms of a demonic engagement. Some had bones that were broken but in much cleaner fashion then a Hell Knight or Imp as capable of.

“Demons did not kill these ponies, but whatever did wanted it to look like they were.”
“Gorrog, we need to keep moving than, unnecessary conflict will only attract attention we cannot afford right now.”
They set off this time, moving at a slow run, causing a small clamor as their one ton and up weights shook the earth. Gorrog, felt something or something watching him…



Far across the field the abomination watched them. His forelegs had become heavily muscled, his rear as well. Two horns now sprouted from his skull, and his body was now the color darkness and ash. His red eyes watched the group of demons, run and it followed them, slowly.


“Gorrog, I can see the fortress, soon we shall arrive and get out of this rain.”
“Abkesh, Baron we need to move faster. I can feel the call of Hell, and it is filling me with the force needed to punch through to it, and reunite these two dimensions.”
“Gorrog, I can feel something else, something is disturbing the call, something dark and another, but how I cannot be sure.”
“What do you mean Baron, I cannot feel any disturbance in Hell.”
“Gorrog, whatever it is, it is surely demonic in nature. Who was your biggest rival for power during the Hellish Civil War?”
“A Vargary Queen, by the name of Ardat Lili, she has a vast army of demons behind her, and even rivals me in the blessings of Hell, but overall I have beaten her before, and she withdrew from that theater, hidden in the shadows, awaiting my moment of weakness.”
“In the name of Leviathan, Gorrog if she has returned, you cannot open that portal, we have not the strength to resist the Black Tide.”
“Abkesh, she will open that portal eventually, using the cracks mine left to aid her, I have no other option but bring my army to this world, otherwise we shall drown beneath her horde, or be slain by the Moon Tyrant.”

The shadow of the fortress, the massive structure that had been the center of the end of the first Demon Pony War now abandoned had remained still. Its massive outer walls and gate commanded the view of the party, and its steel gate opened at Gorrog’s touch.
They walked slowly through its corridors and Gorrog lit the way with a plasma ball, casting a greenish tint the fortress. Gorrog felt the pull of Hell as he neared the room, where the Hell Hole was first born.
“All of you watch carefully I will only do this once.”
With that Gorrog held his fist into the air, and it slowly spread as a red skull formed. It opened its mouth and a wordless cry escaped its lips, loud and full of the anger and hate inside Gorrog’s soul. The glowing eyes drifted slowly across the room, until they rested upon the center of the pit.
Gorrog hurled the skull into the air, and it went straight into the pit, lighting the way as it sped towards the bottom. Striding to the edge, Gorrog brought back his arms and shot a solid pillar of fire into the pit, his eyes, flashing in a twisted and perverse sense of euphoria.
Than a jet of fire shot of the pit, followed by a stream of lava, the Hell Hole had been reborn.Erupting with renewed fury.
“Come to me my demons, we have a war to wage!”
With that Gorrog turned away from the portal, and before he could react, something leaped from the portal, and onto his back, twin blades impaling him through the chest.