Into Abyss

"Are you sure you want to do this bard?"
 It was a familiar question.  All the Grey Wardens asked it constantly.  Nial could not tell if it was honest concern for him and a desire to protect him from the subject matter he was researching or, a manifestation of their own self importance --knowledge so dangerous only they could handle it.  This man was old, very old for a paladin.  In his late forties his eyes had stories to tell, the lines on his face came from both battle scare and age.  He carried a torch through the deep caverns of the libary.  Its light fought against the darkness in a ravenous battle which produced only a small 6 foot circle of light and protection. With this small light the paladin led him on, further and further into the darkness.

The rows and rows of books and scrolls kept deep underground to shelter them from the elements created a labyrinth, an abyss that if one did not know the way he could easily be lost and never found. For minutes silence hung in the air.  It was the only response to the paladins question --silence.  The old paladin turned and led on.  They walked together for several minutes their muted boot falls the only sound.  The steps stopped and a voice again penetrated the darkness, "The Isle keeps and collects records and documents of all types.  Greatest libraries in the world on the matters of religion, artifacts and outsiders."  The word outsider rolled from his tongue easily.  Most who knew what it meant would choke on the word but this man had a familiarity with such things that made it as easy as breathing. "Though the Isle has gathered this information for good and the purposes of defending the light on the earth it can by its nature be dangerous.  More than one Warden has studied these tomes and come to think the enemy was in the right.  More than one Warden has sought to understand the enemy and invited it too closely to his heart and found dead by an unseen hand."

Nial smiled widely, "I'm aware of the risks my good fellow.  Not all is doom and gloom, the enemy has already found me, I must understand the hunter if I am to prevent becoming his prey."

"Very well."

Silence resumed as the narrow catacombs of books unread opened into a small study area with desks chairs and lambs.  Silently and deliberately, the Warden lit the lamps and brushed a thin film of dust from the desk. "Here you are master Bard, sit and I will tell you of this Azazzel which haunts you." Nial sat as the chair creaked slightly, it may not have been noticeable if not for the total silence all around.  The Warden pulled a large volume, about the thickness of Nials Fist, from a shelf and sat down across the table.  Slowly and deliberately he turned the old fragile pages separating layers of cobwebs in the bindings.

"Azazzel is a winged scorpion demon of the highest evolution."  He read directly from the text, During the third age the winged scorpion evolved.  We saw it cross the threshold of physical binding.  There is one called Azazzel who can possess bodies of mortals.  By touch his clasp is sure, by the breath he moves the space of a toss.  Not meant for the mortal realm without host he has but a wings flab before he must return. By his song yeah shall know him, immortality has brought time to his side."

"Oh yes I know the song."

"Fierce and deadly.  He finds delight in haunting a target.  Death is too easy and not enough, a mortal who crosses his path is likely to become a target.  A demon's game to torment and torture.  He will rip from them that which they love most until they embrace death themselves."

"That must be me."

"To the Heart of Kale he gave his loyalty.  Zyr would end the blood war and bind the species.  For that Azzazel gave his loyalty and passion.  This gave him purpose and aim.  Without his master Azazzel would deploy unfetterred destruction and misery upon the peoples of the earth until his insatiable appetite is sated."