Mostly written by [@Luftwaffles] and [@BlondyMcHuggles]

The  ground was not solid, but alive.  It was a sea, an ocean of squirming  masses, piles of bones, rotting flesh, broken bodies and crushed  corpses.  The world was dark and massive, but it was not silent.  The  corpses that made this land groaned and whimpered, countless voices  raised in a twisted chorus of long, sobbing, wracking cries.  No  distinguishable words were spoken, but the screaming went on, always  on.  Some bodies were fresh, their vocal cords intact; and so their  howling wails were the loudest.  But there were older creatures as well,  broken figures of nothing but bone and sinew.  Their bodies squirmed as  well, but not as vigorously.  

There  was one small crest in this void of despair and anguish, one shape that  stood against the rolling swells of undeath.  It looked to be a  wretched creature, a pale figure of white skin and jutted bone.  The  monster’s body was smooth, but it seemed as though the skin had been  stretched against it’s skeletal frame, as if a sheet of pale leather had  been wrapped around a starving child.  The creature’s face was milky  and pure, and it had no lips or hair or nose or even eyes - the only  thing on that could be distinguished was the mouth, from which sprung  forth a set of chipped white fangs, all stained with red and black.   When it reached from underneath the threadbare blanket covering it’s  bony back, the corpses beneath it seemed to shrink away, as if  desperately trying to keep out of its horrible reach.  The creature’s  fingers were long and spindly, sharpened at their ends and blackened by  filth.

The  Lord of the Lost wrapped his fingers around a fresh body, his forced  smile widening as the decaying skull was raised to his teeth.  Opening  his mouth and exposing a black maw, Hargash began to devour his broken  follower.  Hargash greedily forced the decaying corpse down his gullet,  pushing the body deeper with his thin fingers.  Once the rotting toes  disappeared down his throat, the evil god’s jaws slammed shut with a  sickening crunch, and the shaitun continued on his shaky steps through  the realm of the undead.

As  the wretched god stumbled through his world of suffering, his routine  was disrupted by a gout of flame that tore a hole in the sea of the  damned. With a sound like the screams of a murdered legion and a smell  like a graveyard burning, a pair of massive black gates composed of  charred bones appeared within the fire. With a screech, they swung open  and an enormous crimson dragon flew through them.

The dragon's snout was scarred by several long gashes,  and the scales around the old wounds were paler than the rest, giving  them a sickly sort of look. Perhaps a poison or venom had tainted them.  The rest of the great reptile was marked with a number of other scars  telling the tale of a lengthy life of violence. Here, a group of scars  marked where dwarven crossbows had sent their bolts. There, claw marks  spoke of another dragon who had been foolish enough to challenge him. He  was Htraknu, Father of all Dragons.

The  monstrous size of the dragon was apparent even from where Hargash was  standing. Hargash was tall compared to humans in his own right at around  nine feet, but Htraknu was easily seven times that. The dragon’s long  face was always in a scowl,  and this time was no different; his razor-sharp teeth the size of small  men were bared for the god to see. “You couldn’t run forever, demon.”

His  voice boomed around Hargash’s realm for anyone and everyone unfortunate  enough to be alive to hear; it was deeper than a voice had any right to  be and the end of every word was stretched out in his throat. Hargash,  though, hadn’t done anything to show fear; after all, what could an  immortal being be frightened of? The Father of Dragons stalked towards  the god and every step brought the noises of bone being turned into  powder and flesh being squished.

Hargash  snickered, but he made sure to begin scrambling away from the  gargantuan beast.  “Yoooouuu werrreeee a fooollll to come heeereee,  woooorrrrmmm.”  He gnashed his fangs, oozing black discharge leaking  from his closed teeth.  “Thissss reeaaallmmmm isss mmiinnnee  ooowwwnnn…”  His voice broke into twisted cackling, and the Lord of the  Lost disappeared into his ocean of the damned.  

Htraknu  let out a snarl of anger, attempting to raise his massive claws as he  tracked the fleeing demon.  However, he felt far more resistance than  when he first arrived.  The dragon looked down, seeing thousands of  wretched bodies clambering on his mighty frame, dragging him downward.

The  dragon lifted his colossal tail and brought it down onto the living,  writhing ground with a mighty crash. It was all for nothing, however;  the bodies that were crushed simply continued to move, spurred on by  whatever evil magic controlled them. Htraknu managed to get his  forelimbs free of the sea of flesh, though a few mangled corpses were  still clinging on to his scales and claws. He stood up on his back legs  and let out an immense roar as fire blasted from his mouth onto the  ground. 

The  vile stench of melting flesh mixed with the horrid smell of death that  was always in the air. “Hiding are we…?” the dragon growled but his  small smile showed that he was relishing the hunt. He breathed fire at  the ground again and again, and stomped his way around, dispersing some  of the bodies. “You’re not… you’re not scared of me, are you?”

Without  warning, the entire realm turned black for a split second; Hargash  emerged from the black directly in front of where Htraknu stood.  “Fffeeeeeeeearrrr isssss ffffforrrrrr plaaaaaythiiiiinnnnngsssssssss!”  The demon was far larger than he was before as well – a benefit of being  in his own realm. Hargash was in a frenzy as he swiped at the dragon’s  head and neck, leaving several long and deep wounds. Getting so close to  the dragon was not without its risks, however, as the demon soon  discovered. He felt dozens on teeth puncturing into his body, before  being shook around like a toy in a dog’s mouth. Hargash broke free of  the dragon’s deadly grip by slashing at the beast’s eyes. The dragon let  out a roar of fury, giving Hargash the perfect view of Htraknu’s teeth;  a metallic glint caught the demon’s eyes and stark realisation hit  him. 

Hargash  felt his power waning somewhat, and he knew that the only object that  could do that was Veturia’s scalpel – unfortunately for him, that very  scalpel was in the dragon’s mouth, acting as a tooth. “Do you feel it,  demon?” the dragon taunted. “Do you realise how pathetic you are?” The  demon turned around and ran as fast as his spindly legs could carry him,  and instead of running him down and ending the fight, the dragon simply  followed him. 

After  some time, the demon fell to his hands and knees from exhaustion. It  was something a god could never have experienced before. He looked  around his real and surprisingly, he saw no sign of the colossal dragon.  His relief was smashed to pieces when a voice boomed from above. “It is  truly a wonderful sight; a god on his hands and knees before me.” The  dragon landed in front of the god and folded his wings back onto his  back. “Thank you kindly for the entertainment.” He growled before biting  into the weak god’s body. Just as the dragon had hoped, the scalpel had  pierced Hargash’s heart. The demon squirmed pitifully for a second or  two in the dragon’s maw; Htraknu simply shook his prey in his mouth to  end him permanently. The ground started to shake as soon as the god  perished, soon turning into what felt like an extremely powerful  earthquake. A horrid scream came from the now-dead god, and its corpse  convulsed uncontrollably while Htraknu felt himself growing in power. He  commanded the corpses on the ground to stop moving, and they did just  that. Htraknu now had control of his own divine realm and as far as he  and his followers were concerned, he was a god already.