Green Team - The Ascension

(Posted by Babe Bridou on May 21, 2004)

His Tentacleness was worried. He had heard reports of raids against his brothers legions throughout Sanctuary, from an unknown "Green" faction. His prime evil family had been slaughtered out of the material world a week ago, and the raiders were on their way to recidive in the Ethereal world, the spirit world of dreams and nightmares. They had showed no mercy for the Lady of Pains and proved immune to her phantasmatic S&M temptations, which took hold of the Rogue encampment so easily. Even the mighty Duriel and Hephaesto couldn't take any of the raiders with them. His brothers died.

His Destructiveness waved his upper-left arm in direction of the bar. Bartuc and Achmel were in the midth of a fetid discussion about some Harrogathians their troops had taken as hostages, out there in the frigid highlands. The hearts of the fierce barbarian people were resisting bravely the invasion, and they needed to hit hard, very hard.
"A very slow and painful death?", Colenzo proposed. The Council Master shook his reptile-like head in disagreement: "A very long and ssstressssssfull ssstrife, zzhey will sssuffer. Gazzher the troopsss around zzhe cagesss".
Sonja the succubus barmaid floated voluptuously to her master's appendages, revealed her pointy fangs and bit deeply into her wrist. Demon blood spurted right into Baal's mouth, abiding to His Evilness' desire. Sonja let out a cry of delight before fainting. Satisfied, the Lord of Destruction took his most vile tone and announced:

"The raiders have slayed my brother the Lord of Terror and put the Siege on Harrogath to an end. The Overseer was sent back to Hell. They have taken the Frigid Highland waypoint. Do you really want to see me angry? Achmel! Revive Eldritch and send him backup troops. Kill them. Kill all the green raiders, and I might be merciful. They must not survive their nightmare."

Eldritch the Rectifier was aware of the dreadful powers of the Green Raiders. His elite troops were back from Hell as nightmare wraiths, after a short fight against those humans. As the only freed enslaved, thanks to his lightning-speed gladiator reflexes his duty was to prepare Achmel's archer troops about the forecoming assault.

"Lishten me, you earlesh bonemen wish bows shat fire. Shey human, but shey shtrong. Shey shtrike Diablodamn anchel fire and ushe jhe Mephisto light shircle jhat shiver ush hot bloods. Shey are two hands wijh half wijh boobs and one wijh big boobs and fire hair jhat shootsh fire bombs. Big guy wijh clubs jhat turns real fasht. Jhey have shorns jhat hurtsh when we kill. Jhey have deash pop from our dead bodies. Jhey dangeroush. Jhey die!", he said.

"DIIIIIIE !!!", his troops shouted in response.

The burning dead archers remained stateless. An imp teleported to them, with apparent serious wounds.
"They... th...they are comiiiiiing!"
"KIIIIIIIIILL !!!"

And they charged.
"Watch out for jhis girl wijh staff she hurtsh hard!"
"HURRRRRT!!!"
"You take jhe wolf, I take jhe gal wijh light all around her"
"ARRRRGH!!!"
"Bows! Shoot! You on big monster, breath fire on jhe big guy quick!"

The imp teleported out of the mammoth. His massive mount had been slaughtered much too quickly. He was running away in terror as he heard a 'click' coming from the ground, followed by a stream of pure lightning turning him into another little ash heap.

The burning dead archers where blinded and struck by heavens light. Not a single one realized what sent it back to their master's soul pool.

Eldritch was alone, once again. His proud minions had fallen. In his revived heart he heard the ironical laughter of Achmel.

"Thank you, Eldritch. At least your death was useful, this time. We learned a lot. Farewell in oblivion."

Eldritch exploded in anger and released a gigantic nova out of his frozen blood. Time stood still for a while. They were all sent back to hell.

An imp managed to teleport to the first cage and made his report to Sharptooth, the Overlord in charge of the barbarian hostages.
"the g.. the greegree... the grgreeen-green gream!"
"shut UP or I eat you alive. I know. Lord Achmel informed me of this already. We have to stand our ground. Listen to me, you little pieces of slum, listen to me or you shall taste the pain from my whip! The Green Raiders are coming our way. They hold their powers from artifacts of ancient times. We have slained their wielders once, we will kill their new owners! DEATH TO THE GREEN!"

There was a flash, and a lady clad in dark light plate appeared in front of Sharptooth.
"You! It can't be! I killed you a millenium ago, with my own fangs!"
"I live to avenge Arcanna's dreams! Now you shall meet your doom, hellspawn!"

The earth quaked as siege towers crumbled one after one under the green tsunami. They left not a single demon. This nightmare was close to the end.

Threshsocket felt an unassured pat on the top of her head. The Imp commander she choosed to eat tonight wasn't afraid. She slowly turned around, knowing her troops were fully confident. From her view, Bartoc had failed to prevent the raiders from entering the Arreat Plateau. They were well under way to her. She started to prepare the fight, trampling the snow around the cave entrance to the cristalline passage. She knew deep within her siege beast mind that the nightmare was going to end. But she won't fall without a fight, and a good one.

She saw the Angelic lady teleporting at lightspeed. Such little muscles, so few flesh, Thresh was impressed by the female sorceress. With heavenly grace she made a sun swhirl around her sickle. Thresh Socket recognized Sine Nomine, Champion of the Deva. The enchantress united her senses and created a ionic rift around the beast. Thresh realised the fight wasn't worth fighting. Her strength had abandoned her. With a single sickle sweep, Sine cut the beast in half.

Baal was slowly losing patience.
"How come those puny humans rampage my legions of destruction? Nihlatak! Strike them from behind. Stop them. This is an order."
"Your verb is my quest, my liege."

Nihlatak entered a secret portal to the frozen river, where he had emprisonned Anya. With exceeding care he crafted the most powerful Golem this world would ever bring to guard Anya. His plan was not far from perfection: he would lure the so-called green team to their own tomb, and the barbarian maiden would be the bait.

"From the depths of this World, from the power of the Soulstone, from the freezing hearts of the fierce, I invoke you, Golem! Out of this icy river, rise, Frozenstein, rise!"

The river flow came to a halt. Anya watched in terror as, following the command of the necromancer, a gigantic arm of ice erupted from the river, followed by another, and soon with an inhuman growl the mighty Frozenstein was brought to life.

"Greetings Master Nihlatak. What is my duty?"
"There is a human commando coming here to rip us from our little protégée. Sixteen humans, a spirit, a shadow, an avatar and a clay golem. Kill them all."
"It shall be done, Master Nihlatak."

Nihlatak took Anya's chin into his hand and with a mischevious look he wispered:
"Don't worry, charming little creature, I will not kill you. The ice prison you're in will never break and keep you alive until you accept my proposal to carry my child."
Anya spat in the eye of the necromancer.
"You little piece of scum! You will never achieve your plans! They will come and kill you, just like they did in the real world! Even in my nightmare you will not have me!"
"Look, how fierce you are!" Nihlatak smiled. "Your hatred will give birth to my most spectacular achievement. Anya, there's no use in fighting: It has already begun."
"Monster!"

And thus with a hideous laughter the necromancer teleported to his secret temple. "The Lord of Destruction, he's nothing. Everything is happening according to my plans. The Heirs to Milabrega, Arcanna, Civerb and the Orphans will come and free her, naturally. It has already begun, my pet. Hmm, they are stronger than before, I can sense it. Oh, look at that. A priest. Isolated from the rest of the group. An easy target, my little pet. Let's lure him with some returned creatures, then ambush him with those stygian whores. History is a strange thing - that's exactly how the foolish Milabrega died. Interesting. He doesn't look like before... His vestment is made of gold instead of blue. So he understood as well... Well done, Griswold. You knew it all from the beginning, that's why you gave only the Edge to the Dark Wanderer. I should have tortured you before the lobotomy. Now, my pet, they are reaching Frozenstein. Oh, that must hurt! Don't be scared, my little pet. Fire has always melted ice. Rest in peace, my creature. You did your duty. Anya will do hers, my pet."

Standing back in the little garden entrance to the Halls of Vaught, the brain-hungry Pindleskin, firstborn of the undead, was waiting patiently for death to take him again. As the elder of all that's unliving, he met more than his share of aller-retours into the Realms of the Dead.
He knew they were coming, as they were always coming. Time means nothing to someone who is dead since the genesis of Sanctuary. As he always did when sensing mortal flesh, he lifted his huge sword above his shoulder and charged outside, followed closely by the minions mimicking each of his elderly movements. He stopped in front of an eery shape. A shadow. With a slow motion he swung his giant blade downwards and hit the rusted stone plate at his feet. The shadow wasn't quite here, and that's why he missed. With blades swirling around came a powerful exploding high kick. Ninja! It's been a long time, Pindleskin thought, raising his sword an swinging it at his fading opponent. His minions started to wake up in the garden. The invader was there. A sound Pindleskin knew too well: the sound of a trap getting laid at his feet. A gloaming figure clad in full plate mail impaled him with a flaming spear. A stroke from heavens came down on one of his minions head, releasing myriads of exorcist bolts. Within a half-second, Pindleskin exploded. Echoing to his death, a slow and painful cry could be heard: "Natalya, my love".

"Release the Minotaurs!" Nihlatak shouted to his guards. "I have matters of important concern. Do not let anything disturb me!". He checked his special clone.
"Who are you?"
"I am Nihlatak."
"What is your duty?"
"To kill the intruders."
"Where am I going?"
"No one will ever know."
"Who are you?"
"I am Nihlatak."
"Good."

The ancients watched the heroic troops fight, reminding them of their long-lost glory times. The statues of the three were vibrating with sheer enthusiasm: the Chosen would arrive soon.

Deep under the glacial trail, into the icy cellar, Snapchip Shatter was longing for a visit. The last fresh bone was clearly outdated, and the seal Baal had put on his cave was slowly starting to get on his nerves. But he was a cold-blooded one, and one of the wisest of his kin. He knew the end of his nightmare would arrive soon. His opponent would be skinny, and of infernal ascendant.

All of a sudden, the Angelic Herald Sine Nomine appeared in front of Snapchip and let all heavens break through out of a blue portal. There he was, that was Death! Snapchip Shatter recognized the shape of The One that would take his life. The Avatar of Death, the emissary of Trang Oul. He picked up a bone on the floor and used it to scratch his fangs. He knew his efforts would be fruitless. An infernal bone spear pierced through his monstrous stomach, only to tear his spirit apart. Gruentropf walked to the imploring spirit of the frozen horror, and with a fingersnap, exploded it into a million of ice shards.