Chronicles of Eastlund

A lifetime ago..
From heaven to hell.

The gnome stood almost 8 ft high in the fae accursed armour, black and steaming as it was from the unknowable power source upon its back. The daemon before him was twice that height, a literal being of shadow and flame, its toothy grin a blast furnace, its eyes a pair of dying stars. 

   " Say your right words, seeker", the burning smile growing in intensity.

 "You know what I need", said the gnome, puffing up some in the armor, though the slender clockwork man at his side shifted nervously, gears turning and counterweights sliding as it weighed their chances of survival.

" Ah, the Gate. Of course. I rarely have any visitors that do not wish passage through it, though I cannot imagine why. I find Bator lovely this time of, well, you get the idea. Are you prepared to pay the toll?"

"I am, if it is within my power to do so. I'm not interested in some kind of crooked deal. I've come to know you type."

"Oh, perish the thought! No, what I ask is simple. You have a cylinder of ashes in your pack. That is what I desire for passage for the both of you."

The cyclopic gem that passed for an eye in the head of the gnome's armour changed hues, glowing a sickly green, " Those are the ashes of my wife and unborn son. I.. I can't possibly give you those. That was the whole point of this expedition, to bring them back to me. My chronometer says I've been at this 20 Years!" 

The Daemon raises a smoky eyebrow " I am the Wrong entity to be trying to appeal to in this. I have not only no sympathy for you, but not the capacity for it. Your sorrow and frustration are sweet to me. Delectable scents, discernable despite your armouring. Perhaps you should have tried one of the higher planes? Somewhere Angels reside? I'm sure They have the power and desire to help you."

The gem darkens, a smouldering emerald hue " I did! They offered them eternity. A peaceful afterlife, saying I'd see them eventually! No! I want them with me, Now! I want to raise my son!"

The daemon gives a contemplative look "Fine then. If not the ashes, I then demand your mechanical servant", and moves to grab the clockwork man.

 The gnome bodily intercedes. " Fuck you, no. You may Not have Otto. Fine. Here. Take their ashes, open your gate. Know this, Demon. This is not done. "

Chuckling, the daemon accepts the adamantine cylinder, and with a wave of its claw, opens a swirling gate, the sound of screeching metal accompanying the rending of realities. The gnome and clockwork man step through.

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