Pazuzu raged in the depths of Memory, a roiling outburst to set the world aflame. Clad in his black armour, Lord Slith endured the frenzied ire of his companion and stood unyielding as Woe's Prince spat words of vitriol at him. Even as the aeons-old Demon lashed out and gripped him by the throat, the King of the Underworld did not capitulate. Crimson eyes locked in a mutual glare of searing malevolence, the two foes of Creation were at an impasse, with no more Elder God to balance their clash of will and ego.

And then, with a disgruntled hiss, Pazuzu loosed his grip and demanded that further Undead be forged no matter the cost to the Underworld. The Crowned Prince's massive wings unfurled with a thunderous sweep as he left, leaving Slith in cold silence. Indignation gleamed within the burning gaze of Death's Demise as he adjusted the twisted crown atop his helm and drew himself up to full height.

"A Prince makes demands of a King. Perhaps it is I who now overestimate you."

-

Demonic talons tore into crystal as Pazuzu stomped down a ruined hallway in his now-corrupted sanctum. Striding past rotting banners and torn tapestries, the Prince of Woe threw open a wood-carved doorway and stepped out onto a balcony aglow with aureate reflections.

"Incessant pests! You meddle too much! I showed mercy when I took Khalas. I allowed you to live!"

With an acidic hiss, the primordial Demon clenched his teeth and drove his fist toward the wall behind him. At the last moment, he pulled back as a too-wide smile crept across his face.

"It is decided. Interference will be tolerated no longer."

Wielding Bloodletter, a Protean relic of Matsuhaman fate, the Black Prince of Woe slit his own flesh, spilling a deluge of foul, sanguine ichor. The honeyed voice of the primordial Demon rang out with fell laughter as hatred overtook his crimson gaze, and his blood bubbled at his feet.

"Reap what you sow, Sapience."

The veil of Memory's depths descended, shrouding all in pale white fog once again.

-

Titanic stormfronts gathered and roiled above Sapience, building into rumbling undertones of approaching thunder and guttural laughter. Sanguine droplets fell from black clouds, still warm as they stained the faces of adventurers looking up with dread.

All at once, the horror of the skies became apparent as the lands of Achaea reeled beneath the coming of a fell blood rain.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Summary: Pazuzu's rage was witnessed by all as he demanded Slith to continue forging new Undead despite the harm it may cause to the Underworld. Utilising the Bloodletter combined with his own fell sorcery, Pazuzu then unleashed a hellish blood rain across the lands of Achaea.

Penned by My hand on the 8th of Phaestian, in the year 924 AF.