Now that Ravathos had sated Corvin's curiosity about the origin of the Elven schism, he inclined his head and murmured, "Surely, you intend to strike me now?"
Corvin let a measured smile spread across his lips, polite enough for an audience, cunning enough for a predator. Ravathos sensed the first and second spores the moment they latched. The old demon had sensed them but not their purpose. The third however he sent while he was weaving the tale of the Elven race and he did not even flinched let alone sense it. The difference between him and an old Archmagus was only two spores it seems. He sent the fourth and fifth after the third spore's success.
Lightning roared in his mind as Ravathos's dominant elemental affinity, acid hissed through as his secondary. Faint echoes of fire and metal flickered at the edges. Weak affinities, but enough to shape a fragment of the demon's true self. Corvin also sifted through half of Ravathos's treasured library of arcane tomes: forbidden rituals, planar records, and the demon's secret musings on the mutable nature of power.
He found himself drowning in half the memories of this eighteen hundred year old demon. Life times of details on Nefrath, scattered memories from the birth of an Impling to the rise of an Dark soverign. He noticed there were three more Dark Soverigns and two Demon Lords underd Archdemon Korvath the Proud.
Corvin was aware of the stagnation period waiting him. There were only five Archmagus within the Synod. On Demon side, including Ravathos there were four. His need for more powerful targets was increasing with every siphon. He leaned forward, his smile widening as he processed the final strands of knowledge. "Tell me of Zarvoth, Gillmath, and Marvok, what you know of their strengths, weaknesses, and the fault lines that could rend their defenses," he murmured, voice silk over steel.
Ravathos's mind churned. He did not shrink in fear but in calculation. If Korvath could be convinced that the assaults on the other Dark Sovereigns were orchestrated by rival Archdemons, Nefrath would erupt in chaos. An upheaval Ravathos could manipulate to his profit. At last he spoke, each word measured. "Zarvoth commands brimstone warbands across the Molten March, unyielding, but his pride blinds him to subtle incursions. Gillmoth weaves metal snares in the Obsidian Halls, he trusts no one, does not even have guards near his spire. Marvok's ironbound fortress stands resolute on the Shattered Spire, yet fissures in his loyalty run deeper than his ramparts. Only thing deeper then these fissures are his hate for little old me. Use these fractures well shadow spawn."
--
Corvin started planning on using those fault lines. Cloaked in shadows, he emerged into the blistering heat of the Molten March's warfront. Zarvoth the Crimson's brimstone legions arrayed like a river of fire. He used Ice and Lightning to deal with most of legions.
Before striking, Corvin tested Zarvoth's awareness to his spores. The Dark Sovereign's senses remained unmoved, a confirmation Corvin welcomed. Then, in the blink of an eye, he ruptured reality's seams: shadow tendrils unfurled, lightning surged, and a storm of telekinetic shards pummeled the brimstone ranks. Acid lances flew through the air, synchronized with psychic strikes that crippled Zarvoth's defenses. Five siphons later, each harvesting ten percent of Zarvoth's martial expertise, affinities, memories and memories worth of centuries, Corvin locked onto the Crimson lord's throat. With a final telekinetic grasp, he rent Zarvoth's essence from bone to mind. While the demons below the spire was unaware of their leader's demise, Corvin got a pleasent surprise with the affinities of this model citizen of Nefrath after absorbing it's body. His Space affinity leapt to C-, gifted by Zarvoth, posion and wind moved to S+.
Victorious, he swept across the dark floor to the looming Obsidian Halls. Home of Gillmoth. Again he probed with one spore; Gillmoth's defenses breached and lay dormant. Corvin coaxed the Dark Sovereign into psychic deadfalls, mirrored constructs of his own Mind Dominion and telekinetic crushing. When Gillmoth faltered, Corvin reclaimed the advantage with blazing elemental mastery: pillars of molten metal crashed down, encasing the demon in a tomb of his own forging. The final siphon wiped memories of arcane forge secrets into Corvin's consciousness, he complemented the knowledge by absorbing his Gillmoth enriching his elemental palette.
With two Dark Sovereigns vanquished, only Marvok the Shattered remained beneath Korvath the Proud's banner. Before him stood the ironbound bastion of the Shattered Spire. Walls hewn from brimstone scorched iron hauled from the mines at the mountains' base. Corvin paused, savoring the anticipation: What affinities would Marvok yield? Perhaps a deeper command of secondary elements or a surprise of rare affinities. The promise of that final harvest glinted in his eyes. Beyond this victory lay true freedom from stagnation and Corvin would claim it without mercy.
--
Assuming the guise of a Dreadlord dispatched by Archdemon Velkoth the Envious. Whose realm of verdant decay embodied the sin of Envy. Corvin strode into Marvok's courtyard. His form rippled with stolen aura: crown of horns, eyes aglow with borrowed authority.
Marvok the Shattered, clad in iron forged plate, stepped forward warily. "What summons a Dreadlord to my Spire?" he rumbled, voice echoing against brimstone walls.
Corvin inclined his head in mock deference. "The Archdemon Velkoth enlarges his legions. He bids you to join the assault on Ravathos the Gray, that Nefrath's order will be restored under Velkoth's guiding hand."
All the while, his spores had latched without trace. He relied on memories siphoned from Gillmoth and Zarvoth: Marvok's deep seated resentment of Ravathos, the night the fortress gates fell under Ravathos' assault, the hidden cache of iron forge blueprints given by Velkoth himself, and whispered doubts about whom he should offer his forces and loyality.
Marvok's gaze narrowed. "And what proof do I have that you serve Velkoth?"
Corvin produced a fragment of acid burned crystal one of Velkoth's sigils, etched in toxin and shadow. He recited events from Marvok's own past with uncanny precision. Each detail was drawn from the demons' memories, woven seamlessly.
Recognition flickered in Marvok's eyes.
Corvin's smile was a blade. "Then stand with Velkoth, and Ravathos falls along with those who served Korvath. Refuse, and the Archdemon of Envy's wrath will be upon you."
Marvok's ironclad jaw clenched. For a heartbeat, the fortress stood silent. Then he bowed his great helm. "Very well, envoy of Envy. I march within days."
Corvin was a happy man.. an elf.. He was a happy being after siphoning Marvok, soverigh's dominant element was Metal, his second was Space. His affinity with this arcane element leapt from C- to B and metal to S. With his effective range of Telekinesis hw was a tank, a sniper and an LMG walking in shadows.
Corvin's heart thrummed. The final Dark Sovereign had pledged to his design, chaos in Nefrath was assured. He decided to rendezvous with the Synod after Marvok's fall as the his assignment from Synod was already completed.
--
The gates of Bleak Vale had barely fallen before Marvok's forces lay in ruin. Brimstone scarred iron lay twisted across the courtyard, broken war machines smoldered, and the Shattered Spire's banners hung limp. Corvin observed from a shadow laced vantage, letting Ravathos's blow echo in the ashes.
Ravathos advanced, towering over Marvok's broken legions. In one clawed hand, he gripped the horned crown of the fallen Dark Sovereign, lifting him off the ground by his horns. The iron cuirass strained beneath the demon's weight as Ravathos chided him like a petulant child. "Well, Marvok," he cooed mockingly, "you fought admirably, did you truly believe your forces would save you?"
Marvok spat curses, blood dribbling from a split lip. "Archdemon Velkoth will not stand by this, he will end you," he snarled, voice trembling with rage.
Ravathos's eyes gleamed with cruel delight. He tossed Marvok's broken helmet aside and broke a jagged fragment of the horn he held. As Marvok's struggles slowed, Ravathos leaned close, whispering, "Enjoy the abyss, little sovereign," before plunging the jagged horn shard through Marvok's chest into his own master's beating heart.
Marvok's roar cut short as life left his form. Ravathos straightened, crimson light dancing in his eyes. He stepped back and dismissed the corpse with a contemptuous flick. "I have a meal to attend," he declared, voice rich with anticipation, meaning the body of Korvath it has been ages since he has devaured another soverign. He turned to Corvin, bowing his head in respect. "Shadow spawn, your design is masterful. Till we meet again, pray your hunger for power remains as fierce."
Corvin watched the blood soaked tableau in silence, calculating his next move as Ravathos vanished into his spire dragging the body of Korvath, leaving only whispers of brimstone and broken legions now submitting to Ravathos' forces. He turn to shadows and moved to rendezvous with the Synod.