“You foolish boy.”

Now it was Melzichek who spoke, emerging from the smoke and standing on the fire-ravaged streets. He feared not the flames, for he was under the Baal’s protection, and was immune to them.

“I don’t know who taught you those wicked powers,” the priest continued. “But I warn you that they are nothing against those of the great Baal-Molek, who has chosen to defend this city with all his heart. My order has served him well for hundreds of years, and do not think that we will so easily give in to a foolish boy such as yourself.”

The young man, whose name was presumably Eliphaz, did not flinch. “It is you who is foolish, high priest, For you think that your cruel Baal will protect you in your time of need. Molek does not love you or this wretched city. Instead he has enforced his fearsome will upon its people, and you have served as his enforcer. And so, for the wicked sacrifices that you feed him within your temple, Molek rewards you, but think not that he cares for your existence.”

Melzichek was taken aback by Eliphaz’s words, for he did not expect the boy to reply with such candidness. But in a moment he collected himself, and grew only more angry at the boy and his sacrilegious speech.

“Stupid boy! We have already destroyed your vines once, and I will do so again!”

Molek's Beast!

A fiery bull appeared out of nowhere and rushed towards Eliphaz, its nostrils flared in anger.

Shield of Shrubs!

Vines rapidly moved in front of Eliphaz, forming a dense shield of thick thorns and leaves. The red-hot horns of the bull made impact first, tearing through the bramble. But each vine grew smaller tendrils, wrapping their way around the bull’s horns and limbs. They grew thicker, stronger, constricting the bull’s burning body until it cried out in pain. The bull disappeared in a puff of smoke, the vines collapsing inward.

Melzichek looked on in amazement. “Impossible,” he muttered to himself.

“Are you satisfied?” Eliphaz said, turning his eyes back to his opponent. “Surrender the city and renounce Molek at once, or you will face death.”

At this moment, Melzichek was terrified. He had seen the fearsome power of the boy, and the initial vines (though multitudinous) were nothing in comparison to the power of the vines wielded by the youth himself.

As much as he knew that if he did not surrender he would surely die, the priest feared the wrath of Baal-Molek even more. For he had served this horrible god faithfully for many years, and he had been witness to terrible acts of the god’s wrath. The Baal was ancient and barbaric, and he hungered not only for sacrifices of animals and sweet incense, but had a sick desire for human flesh. And Melzichek had complied, for he knew the rules of the covenant, and knew that in turn Molek would reward him with power, power so boundless it would strike fear in the eyes of common men.

But this boy was no common man. So rather than renounce his evil ways, Melzichek resolved to fight for the Baal until his bitter end, for there was no turning back now, not after so many years of terror and power....

Abilities

Molek’s Wrath

+20 across all stats.

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Cost: 10 mana per 30 seconds. Be warned, summon Molek’s Wrath for too long and your sanity will begin to erode.

Fire engulfed Melzichek, his robes burnt away and his body turned black like soot, but did not disintegrate. Two swords of flame appeared in his hands, and he leapt at Eliphaz.

Shield of Shrubs!

The vines shifted into yet another thorn shield, Eliphaz conjuring it at the very last moment, for Melzichek's Agility boost meant that he quickly crossed the distance between them.

The shield of shrubs twisted around the priest, thorns digging into his blackened flesh, but Melzichek spun around in fury, brandishing his two blades of flame. They cut through vines, scattering ash in all directions.

Melzichek let out a guttural scream, and a column of flame erupted from his mouth. Eliphaz ducked out of the way, but felt the intense heat of the flames as they licked at his clothes.

“You brazen fool, you tool of a false god,” the priest spoke in an otherworldly voice, his pupils enlarged so his eyes were pits of black. “Who sent you to face me? What coward? What idiot! You think I would hide my essence in this vile city of humans? No! They are merely a means for me, a way to sate my thirst for their flesh. But you think you can upset my plans? Think again! For I will consume you too, and take your Strength and Vitality and increase my own stats and levels!”

With that, the demon—for that is what Melzichek had become—lunged at Eliphaz again. This time Eliphaz was prepared, and he wielded a staff of coarse vinewood. The staff was covered in small thorns that jutted out like serrated teeth.

Eliphaz met the priest’s two swords, his staff holding despite the flames that licked at the weathered wood. The flaming blades latched onto the thorned staff, and Eliphaz twisted the staff downward, bringing the flaming weapons into the earth while the base of his weapon turned towards Melzichek’s unprotected head.

The priest screamed as the staff dug into his face, hollowing out his cheek. For he was no longer made of flesh, but Molek had turned him into hardened soot, which flew off in clouds with every strike which Eliphaz battered into the demon.

Melzichek tried to pull his weapons out of the ground, but vines erupted from beneath and began to wrap around the blades and travel up his arms. He was locked in place and Eliphaz swung again, this time from the other side, sending the demonic priest reeling. Melzichek collapsed onto the burnt rock of the street.

“My god—my Baal—where are you?” he cried out, writhing in pain.

“Molek has left you, for you are no longer of use to him,” Eliphaz said with a sneer. “You were a tool, a means to an end. You carried out his crimes in your name, and so he rewarded you and made you into a man of power. But without him, you are nothing.”

“Please...kill...me,” Melzichek whimpered. Abandoned by his god, his mana depleted, the pain of burnt flesh had returned. Bits of charred skin detached and fluttered in the air around the two men.

Eliphaz looked at the pathetic figure with contempt. He shuddered at the horrible things that the priest had done in that barbaric god’s name, and wished him a painful death. The sadistic and selfish man surely deserved it. But he had promised himself to never again let emotions sway him, not after that night when the soft words of his uncle had led him down this cursed path. And what use was the poor priest to him now? He would wither away regardless.

“Consider this an act of mercy,” Eliphaz said, as a vine grew out of the earth and entered the priest’s sputtering maw, before it gored his skull with a thick thorn.

Eliphaz looked away from the act, discomfort churning in his stomach. For a moment his mind reeled before he collected himself. Melzichek was just a distraction, he reminded himself, do not forget your purpose.

“Shechem!” Eliphaz’s words bellowed out again. He had stepped away from the black corpse of the priest and stood again before the gates of the city. “I have come here to free you from the evil grasp of Baal-Molek. Your high priest was an unnecessary casualty in that fight, for he refused to renounce that evil lord. Though he fought bravely, he had no hope against the strength which opposes the Baal.”

As he spoke, the vines again began to grow throughout the city, covering the clay buildings like ivy. Some sprouted leaves and small buds.

“Put down your weapons! Surrender!” Eliphaz looked up at the sky, and seeing the black smoke float up from the temple at the top of the city, his face darkened. “And stop all your sacrifices at once!”