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    A Day of Work for the Underlord

    Zev the Reveler
    Gracious Double-Crosser

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    A Day of Work for the Underlord

    Post by Zev the Reveler on Sun May 29, 2011 4:21 pm

    Some may or may not remember the newly-introduced Underlord.

    This little story is meant to display what his working hours normall consist of.

    As a note, the Underlord and DreamKeepers are Property of David and Liz Lillie.

    Zev Raregroove makes no claims to this character.

    I hope you all enjoy! 8O

    --- --- --- --- ---

    A Day of Work for the Underlord

    --- --- --- --- ---

    "Gwugh...Hff, hff...Snrff...Fwah..."

    Turning and tossing on the floor, the grotesque, piteous figure failed to find any rest. Pallid skin illuminated by the dull glow from many surrounding bowls, his feverish eyes flickered open and closed repeatedly. Briefly, he gnawed on one of his furry, floppy ears for reasons unknown to even himself. Grumbles emanated from the misshapen wretch as he forced himself up to stand on his stumpy little legs.

    Indeed, these would be ghastly quarters for any creature raised in surroundings of decency. Cramped, cluttered, dimly lit by the aforementioned bowls of a molten sludge - Which themselves periodically belched fulminous, noxious smog - It was a dreadful sort of chamber. All over were scattered ragged scrolls painted in a pale red-brown ink. These were accompanied by lumps of clay, bits of other materials like wood and crystal, strewn-about tools, abstractly-shaped bottles filled with strange liquids, and what distinctly looked like parts of (As well as entire) corpses from various races. Furthermore, there were a variety of shelves and cupboards filled with yet more objects of highly disturbing appearance. Opening to a shadowy passage above was a broad stone staircase. To top off these surroundings was a stooped brick construct, sealed by a battered wooden door around which a fiery glow pulsed and rippled.

    Lips smacking, the Underlord rubbed groggily at his eyes. "Gurgh. SleeeeeEEEeeepyyyyyggghhh.," he gurgled. Teeth grinding about, he smacked lightly on both of his cheeks to try and get himself more awakened. In a clearly stressed voice, he muttered almost piteously, "Can't get sleep. Faulty Circadian rhythm. Must fix later." Gaze drawn to a suspect pile of bloody tools, he licked his lips. "...Fix later. Quota. Kwa...Oh...Taaaaaggghhh." His feet made no noise as he moved over to the wall.

    "Lesseeeee..." He traced his finger along drawings on a wall-mounted scroll. Sepia ink on the paper illustrated something which could only be described as residing between intricate diagrams of an unknowable project and the infantile scribblings of a madman. Due to this being the Underlord's domain, it was most likely both at once. From underneath a lopsided shelf, some thin hand of dry, papery, sallow flesh draped tightly over its knotty bones emerged. With a spiderlike motion of the fingers, whatever was underneath began to drag itself out...



    Placing the freshly-bloodied cleaver back atop the shelf, the Underlord grinned maniacally as he picked up the twitching hand. "Jusssssssssst what I needed! Excellent spasms. Plenty of life and pain and use left in subject. Have to hack off more of it later." Relinquishing its hand, the unknown, half-dead creature made a noise similar to an extremely pronounced death rattle from its hiding place. The Underlord began cackling gleefully as he scuttled over to a large shelf and retrieved a dented cauldron.

    Surprisingly, he carried the fairly massive vessel in one hand - And seemed to do it with a fair bit of ease..."Must work quickly! Quickly quickly quickly! Mussssssn't lose the spasms!" With the still-quivering hand tossed into the cauldron, the Underlord flicked his wrists repeatedly. This gesture sent tendrils of a sulphurous white mist dancing out of his robes. Wispy coils of foul, pale smog curled up towards the ceiling. Clatters and rustles could be distinctly heard soon after.

    It was not long before his signature fiends descended from their places hanging above the Underlord's chamber - Lanky, wraithlike, with largely black skin permeated by a pale blue mist, they glanced about fretfully with similar-toned icy blue eyes. They clamored around their creator's room, delicately retrieving bottled potions. Each one stopped by the cauldron to pour in a little of the conconctions they bore. Soon enough, the cauldron was broiling away with a sickly gray color. Three of the earlier-deposited hand's fingers attempted to claw for freedom...

    "No no no. Nope. Nooooopuh." Giggling to himself, the Underlord rammed a large stick capped by metal into the cauldron. Each squelch and crack and every other disgusting noise clearly heightened his excitement with the project. His crushing jabs on the rapidly-dissolving hand were ceased just long enough to stir the potion to a higher froth. This was quickly replaced by the Underlord's previous action of grinding all of the skin and every last bone in the hand down into a fine mixture. It would be up to the potions to break down the hand's remnants.

    Satisfied with the ochre hue and dark red splotches his concoction soon took, the Underlord lifted the cauldron with both hands so as to carefully mount it on a frame above one of his chamber's glowing bowls, filled with unknown, heat-radiating constituence. With that done and done, he scurried over to a large table and began ratting around the contents. Eyes darting across the tools and lumps of materials, he muttered to himself almost conspiratorily.

    "Yeeesssssssssshhh..." That word degenerated into an animalistic hiss of accomplishment. "Perfect tools. Perfect. Just need materialllsss...Mah...Teh...Reeeee...Yaaahhhlllsss..." A number of instruments clutched in hand - A dented chisel and a worn scalpel; a rod ended in a hook and a savage mallet, to name the most recognizable for any human - The Underlord began slapping his other hand around in search of 'materials.'

    What he retrieved was a huge lump of almost-black clay. Soon to follow were a few blocks of dark ashwood. Clumsily making his way over to a spot near the cauldron, the Underlord dropped his materials onto the floor with a series of plops. Immediately setting the clay upright, he began attacking with the hook and scalpel. Though he seemed to be scrabbling at random, in only two or three minutes, a distinct shape began to form.

    Broad and sturdy, the carved torso possessed beginnings of limbs and a pattern of whorled lines all over its surface. Once satisfied with his work, the Underlord took up the mallet and chisel to attack the ashwood. Skillfully working it down to four distinct shapes, he made sure to contain his delight so as to not make any mistakes. Soon enough, a pair of wrought gauntlets and boots with matching whorled lines and joint attachments were left.

    It was a simple matter to put the main body together. Tongue lolling, the Underlord stared long and hard to figure out what was left..."Needs head." Padding over to one of his shelves, he retrieved a skull which seemed to possess qualities of both a primate and a canine. Next to be taken up was a smaller lump of the previously-used clay. Deftly working his hands across the skull, the Underlord soon admired his handiwork.

    A cackle broke free from him. "Bee...Yooooo-tuh-fullh. Intimidating. Consistent to the rest of design. The Underlord has done well." More and more giggles seethed from him as he positioned the new head to finish off his project. "Wonderful wonderful wonderfullllllllllhhh..." His manner of bouncing around the sculpture to inspect it rather resembled a portly lapdog.

    Swiftly grabbing a huge, rusted cyringe with a shortened needle, the Underlord drew out the entirety of his cauldron's contents - Now a pulsating dark red, with luminous, pale yellow ripples rebounding across. He set the tip of the needle to the top of his creation's head and pressed onto the device ever-so-slowly...The dastardly liquid streamed down the body's curling lines...

    "Breeeaaathe...My chiiiiillldh...Gyuhuhuhuhuuuh..." The shortlived lucidity of his eyes was terrifying: For a brief moment, the whole of his genius bubbled up from the muck of his insanity and gleamed in his eyes. Long, chipped, somewhat crooked teeth displayed by his grin, the Underlord trembled with excitement...

    Its eyes flared to life. Breath filled its abominable existence as its entire body spasmed with awakening. Jaws snapping violently, it strained against an invisible barrier. As the Underlord encouraged it with his euphoric gibbering, it began to exert its will, and...!!



    Sadly, the Underlord had temporarily forgotten the exact amount of his quota:

    He had to make 29 more minions in four hours, lest he be 'encouraged' by other Nightmares.

    This was all part and parcel to his general routine.
    helo frens
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    Re: A Day of Work for the Underlord

    Post by helo frens on Mon May 30, 2011 4:41 am

    A brilliant, well made introduction to an all-round interesting character~

    Nicely done. ^^

    I loved the ending, by the way.


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