The dead-eyed man stood still. He stared, emotionlessly, and unreadably. Garen Corlagon shifted in annoyance. If he was going to be called down to the Hall of the Nihil, they should at least already have their Voice know what to say to him.

The growling, grunting, gurgling howls of the great tentacled slimey embodiments of evil in the darkness chittered amongst themselves. Eventually, the dead-eyed man resumed speaking. It was an abrupt thing, and Corlagon wondered briefly if the man had any sense of self at all. Most likely not, having been posessed by the Malfeans for as long as he has.

Garen Corlagon himself knew what was going to happen to him, eventually. The dead-eyed man was looking more frail as time pressed on. Whatever enchantment he had over his body was failing, and when it did.. it was going to be him standing there in front of the Nihil, with one of those slimey tentacles around his throat, and his mind completly dominated by those grotesque abominations known as the Malfeans.

"You helped an intruder in the Shadowlands recently. Jodiah Ayreg."

Corlagon nearly snorted. Is this what they called him down here for? "What of it?"

Blank eyes blinked. "You have also been speaking to him. In his mind."

"Yes..." Corlagon spoke a bit slower, now, his eyes narrowing. "..I fear he is losing the way."

The dead-eyed man stared wordlessly, but the Malfeans behind him spoke amongst themselves in the glutteral noises they make.

"He is losing the way" the dead-eyed man known as The Voice of the Nihil said, suddenly. "He must be corrected, or he must be brought here for punishment."

Corlagon knew punishment was eternal Oblivion. He didn't feel any sense of remorse, or pity, or even an urge to hold back. If Jodiah Ayreg was going to squander his time in the world of the living, then he deserved Oblivion -- but not without a great deal of anguish to mull over, first.

"I take it that you're going to send me back to the world of the living then," the words echoed in his head like heaven's angels welcoming him home. He had died once, and the Nihil thought it fitting to bring him to Malfeas without actually granting him a new body to command in the physical plane. "What must I do?"

The great x-shaped eyes in the darkness behind the dead-eyed man blinked, and more chittering occured amongst them. The tentacle wrapped around the man's throat twitched, and tightened, and the dead-eyed man abruptly began to speak again.

Garen Corlagon frowned, and his back stiffened as he rolled his shoulders. If there had been a comment box in Malfeas, he would have suggested chairs in the Hall of the Nihil.

The dead-eyed man continued speaking, the tentacle wrapped around his neck flexing a bit here and there. "Foremost in the mind of the Prince of Hate would be his activities elsewhere. While his service to the Temple of Asmodeus has been commendable in its spreading of the blight of shadow, he has become involved in a dispute that places him on the... wrong side."

"I'm not surprised. Jodiah Ayreg has always been a fool. Tell me."

"There is a female -- one of the Infernal, despite her appearances and habits -- that makes her empire in a dimension outside of the power of the Nihil. He is binding himself to her service."

"I'm still not surprised. Dangerous women that show an unhealthy amount of strength always did catch his eye. Go on."

"In this world, known as Rhilshen, there is a being. Varltesh he is known as, now, but he shows great promise. The Nihil would like him to succeed in his quest of conquest and destruction. Perhaps he might even be raised to the Nihil once his task there is finished, and that world will be added to the dozens of others in our dominion."

Corlagon sneered. "Quit your prattle, and get on with it!" Then, as if remembering exactly who he was speaking to, and what they were capable of, he bowed his head. "... my Lords."

The dead-eyed man stared blankly. "Jodiah Ayreg is assisting the female - Alysia Skye - and in so doing is resisting Varltesh. There will be a war in Rhilshen. He must be directed to kill the Skye woman. Without the head, the rest of the snake will crumble to dust, and Varltesh will be victorious over the realm."

The dead-eyed man continued, adding, "Provided that he is powerful enough to defeat the Guardian Gods, of course. That will be the test for his raising to the Nihil."

"So I am to direct Ayreg to betray this... Alysia Skye," he very nearly spat the name. He had always looked down on Ayreg's weakness shown toward women. To Corlagon, women were to be used as trade goods, and amusement, and the satisfaction of baser needs. Nothing more. The rest of the time, they might as well just be invisible.

And silent. A woman speaking grated his nerves more than the howling of the Malfeans ever could.

His shadow-brother Ayreg, however, always seemed to have a weakness toward strong women. It is something that has been exploited in the past. "Simple enough."

"What next?"

The great, grotesque hulks in the darkness shifted, and the nerve-grinding noise of their speech echoed throughout the organic walls again. Corlagon idly kicked some hair-like protrusion that had been slithering toward his boot.

The tentacle unwrapped itself from around the dead-eyed man's throat, and withdrew back into shadows. It was replaced by another one, this one a deep purple to offset the sickly green of the first.

"Next.. Jodiah Ayreg has been growing soft. There is one who is responsible for this, among all others."

"Masqurading?"

"Yes."

"I suppose I'm to have Ayreg kill this doppleganger, as well?"

In the darkness behind him, the x-shaped eyes turned to one another briefly and began speaking amongst themselves in that deep, rumbling noise they tried to call speech. Shrill howls, gluttering grunts, and wheezing growls didn't seem to make any kind of discernable speech pattern that he was aware of.

The dead-eyed man stared. He always did that. Corlagon would feel better if just once -- every now and again -- the Voice of the Nihil shifted his eyes, or shifted his stance, or something! He was like a talking statue, with some tentacle wrapped about his throat.

Corlagon himself had to shift his stance. It seemed the organic floor was growing a bit too squishy beneath his foot. With all of the insect-like beings that resided in Malfeas - besides the spectres themselves - burrowing around in the walls and floors like the stuff was made of dirt.. he wondered, briefly, just how this place managed to keep supporting itself. That hair-like protrusion had wriggled back over to him, and instead of kicking it away this time he brought his boot down hard onto it, pinning it down to the floor.

It wriggled for a few seconds, and the was still. Satisfied with himeslf, Corlagon looks back up to the impassive gaze of the Voice.

"It is the opinion of the Nihil that were he even convinced to try... she would crush him like a swollen grape."

"A woman should not have such power."

"She is no mere woman. He must stay away from her. Her nature overpowers our own links to the death knight, and Jodiah Ayreg must not remember what it was to be human."

"It will be done."

"See to it that it is. Go forth now, Garen Corlagon, Death Knight of the Nihil. Your task is set before you. Do not fail us."

Corlagon bowed deeply, but spoke nontheless. "And what of Puppetry, my Lord?"

The lights abruptly extinguished. The glowing x-shaped eyes of the Malfeans were still visibe for a few seconds, but they turned and.. seemed to vanish. He was staring forward into a great and terrible void. Was he lied to, about the secrets of Puppetry? Surely not..

Behind him, a kind of spine-topped tentacle dropped from the cieling. He stared into the void ahead of him, even as the tentacle reared back behind him. It flexed, and made a quick thrust forward. The jagged edge of the spine drove into the back of his head, and Garen Corlagon felt his arms and legs go stiff as boards. His eyes rolled up into his head from the pressure, and he screamed.

Down through the tentacle moved three... mounds. Like some kind of fluid, they flowed down the length of the sinewy arm stretching up into blackness, pushing out at the exterior of it like a snake eating a ball.

The "ball," as it were, squeezed down into the spine, and emptied itself into his head. He screamed louder, still, more harshly, and his voice started to become weak. In an instant, though, it was over. The tentacle flexed again, and yanked itself out of Garen Corlagon's skull with the spray and drip of some kind of green... ooze. The death knight collapsed to the floor, and felt the back of his head.

No wound. It was like it never happened at all. Only now... he knew. Yes, he knew. Puppetry. He grinned, and cackled, and the malevolent death knight knew he could now reach across the Shroud at whim to control the actions of the living -- even leap across to fully posess their body, if only for a short time.

He left the Hall of the Nihil, then, moving up an inclining tunnel that was probably meant to be stairs. Back into the rest of Malfeas, where the insect-like servitors and maddened spectres moved about their own business. Another cauled wraith was being dragged down the tunnel he just arrived from, so the Malfeans would have yet another meal. His stomach wanted to turn with the task set before him - not from fear that he couldn't do it, not at all... but that it could be him being dragged down those steps if he fails in his task.

Garen Corlagon considered his next move. Setting out from his place there in Malfeas, he started off toward the Shadowlands again. The first thing to do was, perhaps, the simplest.

Garen Corlagon shifted uneasily.

Sometimes the sheer knowledge and omnipresent understanding the Nihil appeared to have could be awe-inspiring. Especially when stacked against their apparent ignorance of the world, as well. It was a shocking thing, and he never lost the idea in his head that they did this to test their minions.

"I am unable to go near Alysia Skye, my lords. As you know," he said, delicately as possible, "the Shadowlands reflect only the Prime. The world, as it were, and--"

"--Get to the point, death knight."

"Ah. Of course. Forgive me, my lords. In brief... both Ayreg and the woman spend a great deal of time in this Rhilshen place. It is not upon the Prime plane."

The dead-eyed man was silent for a time, though the great x-shaped eyes behind the figure of the silent, stoic man turned in on themselves. Corlagon wanted to clap his hands over his ears when they spoke between each other; glutteral grunts, groans, and grinding guffaws.

He spoke again, abruptly, when the last of the Malfeans were finally silent. "This is not your doing. What of the other?"

Garen Corlagon rose himself up as high as he could, thrusting his chest out proudly with a faint rise to his chin. Not his doing, indeed! As well punish him for the sun rising. He was limited here in the Shadowlands, and they were considering him for Oblivion for having to exist on such a leash? "She is... she is different, my masters. I could almost swear she can see me. A cut of her eyes when I try to approach, and--"

"Yes?

Corlagon shook his head, nearly shouting now. It was not a pleasant attempt when he tried to manipulate Ayreg the last time he and that.. that female were near each other, and Garen Corlagon was furious when he could not do as he liked. "She burns like the sun! Her voice is as thunder. Her eyes are bolts of lightning! My body," he nearly spat the word, "can not take her presence for long. I can do nothing here, on this side of the Shroud."

X-shaped eyes began to turn and blink out into the void of the blackness. They continued to do so until only one remained, and another slimey tentacle, this one a deep, deep black slithered out of the bottomless nebula from where its owner was, and wrapped about the dead-eyed man's throat.

He spoke, suddenly, his voice sounding as drone and flat as it ever did. "The Nihil has decided. Jodiah Ayreg must be returned to the path of the shadow, or he must be destroyed in the mortal world to face our wrath. It is clear that you cannot follow your instructions in the world of the dead. Garen Corlagon, you will be returned to the world of the living."

Corlagon wanted to leap out of his skin. At long last, after all of these years festering in Malfeas, he was going back to the world above.

"Your body will be renewed, wherever it may lie. Your spirit will be made whole. Your powers revitalized. Garen Corlagon, turn Jodiah Ayreg back to the shadow. Or destroy him. Do not fail us again."

The light vanished, suddenly, and Corlagon was left in shadow. He felt the sensation of moving, but everything stayed endlessly black all about him. The death knight knew his soul was returning to the living world. The Nihil had said it was so! He would be alive again.

And after he found and destroyed Jodiah Ayreg... he would be free to dance upon the ashes of the burning world.