Krazoa Returns

Far away on the mountains of Varh-Dan, a lone underspawn guarded an ancient decayed prison. He was very much suited for the task he was given, he was a stocky fellow clad in tattered robes and plated armour crafted to fit his bulk, a long beard flowed from his pudgy face down to his large stomach, from the sight of the human eye he was no creature to tangle with. He sat on the rocks that covered the circular walls, although he did not know who was kept inside such a prison, he knew that whatever it was he would be prepared to stop it.

And his time of preparation was at it's end, for a mighty rumble shook the mountain top. Alarmed he went towards the middle of the prison, axe in hand. An ominous red glow filled the ground and a few moments later the intricate disk in the middle exploded from such sheer cosmic force that to him it was if Underrealm had decided to seep into Midrealm. Having sheltered himself from the explosion, he edged towards the centre. A large crimson pool was present, filled with not blood but a mystical fluid of some sort.

He would have touched to see but he noticed a bulge rise up from the pool, the bulge ripped apart to reveal a winged being bearing ash grey skin and a faded mark of the Cuflux. The being's eyes glowed red, his teeth sharp as knives and from his back sprouted two grey tentacle-like wings. The being staggered and fell into the pool again, but he rose up again and started to walk towards the underspawn.

"What is this pleh-place?" The being said, the mystical fluid expelled from his mouth.

"These are the mountains of Varh-Dan, wretch." The underspawn spoke with no fear in his voice but deep inside he started to feel it. The being chuckled to himself.

"Heh, and if I were to rip your heart out, would you cease to exist?" It was an unusual question to ask, a threatening statement to an underspawn.

"Yes, and I would speak those next words carefully vile fiend." He readied his axe for battle.

"Ah, so Midrealm I remain still. Do you hear that wretched guardian? KRAZOA IS BACK!" The underspawn lowered his axe, a look of confusion upon his face.

"Wait, who?"

"Krazoa, Lord Krazoa. Slayer of Underspawn. You may know me as the Taker of Souls...not that? How about the Crimson Fist? The Revenant? Have you not heard of me?"

The underspawn stayed silent, and Krazoa's face began to turn furious.

"So you thought you could wipe out my legacy guardian? Never mind, they will all remember soon enough!" He walked straight forward in the underspawn's path, without hesitation the underspawn lifted his axe and struck at Krazoa with ferocity, only that he didn't land a blow. For Krazoa had gripped the edge of the axe with his bare hands, before he had time to think Krazoa thrust his palm into the underspawn's chest which immobilised his entire body.

"Such a fool for thinking you could attack me so easily, your soul will be mine!" Krazoa's hands glowed red as he positioned his hands towards the chest of the underspawn, soon enough the underspawn's body started to burn and melt, no screams were heard for he did not have the strength to do so. In the end only a puddle of smoking fleshy goo remained, and Krazoa was left grasping at his soul. He crushed it with little strength, and the power of the underspawn flowed into his body like many others did centuries before.

"Nothing like a nice boost for the morning, I will take away everything you have created wretched guardian. Then I will wipe out the remnants of your kind, and this time you won't be there to stop me." Krazoa laughed and roared as crimson clouds started to gather and glow, consuming the sky itself.

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The start of the new Underrealm story: The Celestial Sage! In this first part the evil Krazoa returns, and he's not happy about life!

Enjoy!