Tag: ruins

#Lore24 – Entry #355 – Sci-Fi Month IV #20 – Musings on the Fate of the Dragons

Transcribed From the Personal Recording Implant of Andra Ganim, Chronicler of the Codex Infinitum

AG:  “Given the amount of time you’ve studied the dragons, you are likely the foremost expert on them in the galaxy.  Many researchers have previously attempted to access your research, and the one constant is the denial of access, which has fueled countless theories that you’ve made remarkable discoveries that you’ve used to get DSM and yourself to where you are now.  I suppose, since we’re moving onto the subject, that we should start at the beginning.  What started your admitted obsession with the dragons and their fate?”

RV:  “You’ll recall that I had always had an affinity for arcane magic.  Unlike others, I grasped the most complex concepts easily, and practically knew the draconic language used in arcana before I even studied it.  Most assumed I had simply been able to grasp the language easily, but no, I always knew the language.  I even gained mastery of High Draconic in the time it took normal arcanists to learn the basic form of the tongue.  Once I had gone to study the arcane, I quickly delved into what was known of dragon-kind, and quickly found it remarkably lacking and, somehow, instinctively, I knew much of it was wrong.  I always knew that I was different from my fellow elves, but I would begin to surmise that it was not simply the prodigy I had been named during this time.”

AG:  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you alluding to your very nature being different from other elves?”

RV:  “Yes.  My very nature is fundamentally different from that of normal elves, down to my very soul.  Taken at surface level, the traits which distinguish me most, my ambition, drive to gain power and wealth, mastery of the arcane, massive ego, my tendency to gain a remarkable loyalty from my lesser, even my lifespan.  Most elves tend to grow supremely bored and detached after a thousand years or so, perhaps two if they are particularly ambitious, and go off to die quietly somewhere.  I’ve never felt that urge, not even once, and I am just as spry as I was two, three, four thousand years and more ago.  Quite an anomaly, you would agree?”

AG:  “There are certainly no other known examples of elves as old as you.  Common belief is that you have preserved yourself through arcane methods, may in fact be a lich or making use of clones to extend your lifespan.”

RV:  “Lichdom is not for me, at least not for the foreseeable future, but there is precedent for it.  I have said previously that I mastered the arcane method of creating a clone.  That mastery has certainly been honed through practice when required.”

AG:  “So you have experienced death before.”

RV:  “Death of the body is trivial, my dear.  It is merely a vessel for the soul, which houses one’s true essence.  That is why I destroyed Halaxaes’ soul when he dared to cross me.  When the Hand of Mausolus was sent after me, I did not mean that I was lucky that he never caught me, rather that he did not slay my soul.  Had it been Korvalis Nightrunner who had come after me, then perhaps you and I would not be having this conversation.”

AG:  “Most would say that dealing in souls is a very terrible, dark art.”

RV:  “Most are beneath me and could not begin to understand how little I care about their opinions.”

AG:  “With all this talk of souls and your true nature, how does that tie into your draconic research?  Have you found a secret there as to the nature of souls themselves?  To our very existence, perhaps?”

RV:  “Not all souls, only a very small number of them, speaking strictly by the numbers.  But before I get into that, I should tell you the short version of what I have learned over these many centuries of study.  The proliferation of draconic ruins throughout the galaxy can be no accident, for their general construction and iconography are mostly identical throughout known space, with minor variations depending upon the tastes of the individual dragons who oversaw their construction.  As your order’s records indicate, there is a clear advancement in the age of the ruins through time; some ruins have been dated to be much older than those within the Andyllion core worlds, and others have been dated to be much younger, but the youngest of these is still thousands of years older than even I.  What most have not discerned, though, is the pattern of their construction, specifically a pattern which indicates an intentional and systematic expansion of dragon kind throughout space in a spiral progression following the spiral nature of the galaxy itself.”

AG:  “Are you referring to the draconic migration theory?”

RV:  “Yes and no.  The theory itself is flawed, you see.  The dragons did not simply advance from one world to the next as they grew bored or were vanquished by the lesser races or succumbed to some disease or calamity, to conquer the lesser races on a whim as is surmised.  No, the dragons themselves were responsible for seeding the worlds they visited, taking their loyal followers with them as they traveled, creating entirely new civilizations as they advanced, trying something new and different each time, studying how these civilizations flourished or died, then moving on to the next once they had satisfied themselves.  The shortsighted and self-absorbed nature of the various races throughout known space could never allow them to open their minds to the possibility that they or their gods were not responsible for their coming to their home worlds or perhaps even their creation. 

I can see that you’re going to need a few moments to process this and formulate your next question.  I can already guess what that question will be.  How does my version of events relating to the draconic seeding of worlds relate to the gods, to the various creation myths and commonly held beliefs that the gods were responsible for the creation of their ‘children’?  It’s really not a difficult leap in logic, my dear.  Think about it for a moment, have some fresh tea.  You’ll get there, I’m certain.”

#Lore24 – Entry #320 – Fantasy Month IV #15 – Unexpected Complications at the Standing Stones

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I suppose I should likely have been more concerned when we moved deeper into the site of power and my accessories activated once again.  It had been such a mild distraction the last few days during my study of the ruin that I almost dared to believe that I had mastered its influence upon me.  This proved incorrect, however, for as we approached to within a hundred yards or so of the stone circle, both the nipple rings and my most uncomfortable cage began to vibrate, steadily and with growing intensity, as we drew closer, making me fidget enough to unsettle my horse.

Descending toward the center of the valley, the growth of trees around the stone circle thinned as we grew nearer until we were in a treeless clearing at the center, the circle of ancient stones stood perhaps a hundred feet in diameter, with the stones themselves standing roughly twenty feet high.  Some appeared almost like massive claws reaching from beneath the earth, while others formed standing arches at precisely the angles that matched the eight compass points.  No trees grew within the circle, the grass remained short, and no moss covered them.

Though we were exhausted from our assaults from the kobolds, and I was growing more aroused by the moment thanks to the incessant and powerful vibrations surging through me, I nonetheless began to study the circle while camp was prepared, just outside the circle.  After a time, when it seemed I may actually climax, I felt a most jarring cessation of the vibrations, almost as if a lever had been pulled, leaving me unsteady on my feet for several moments as I recovered.  Now that I was upon the edge of climax again, the other function of the items had taken over, and after I had had a few minutes to cool off, the teasing would start up again, ramping up to an almost painful level before shutting off just before I could reach the climax I so desperately needed.

It didn’t take me long to realize that the power of the dragon-rune-covered stones were causing this peculiar behavior, for the nature of the vibrations changed as I touched various stones and traced the runes upon them, transcribing them into my notes with what light we had left.  I wondered if I would be able to find rest at all within the radius of the circle without magical aid to suppress their activation or to put me into a deep magical slumber.  Although this did give me a clue on the origins and nature of the magics that had been worked into the devices attached to me, even though I wouldn’t make pondering upon them a priority.

The party, while not completely unaware of the nature of my predicament, as we had discussed my relationship with Lady Armenia during our travels, and Gresilda and Risai were quite well aware of situation as we had bathed together on multiple occasions to this point, certainly found out that night.  Shassk was indifferent or perhaps unreadable to me, Ellisar and Korvalis seemed quite amused with my predicament, Gresilda sympathetic and understanding, and Risai…perhaps envious?  She is rather stoic outside of battle, showing a remarkable control of her barbarian bloodline, but I’ve noted that she has been watching me for some time with a rather obvious curiosity. 

Still, once we had settled down around the campfire for the night to recover, I had began to form some idea of the nature of these standing stones, perhaps cluing me into the reasons why the magic within my accessories had activated so intently.  The nature of the site, and perhaps of this particular dragon’s domain, was to celebrate fertility and propagation of the species, and thusly, the ritual that must be performed in the name of the dragon ruler was one of a distinctly sexual nature.  This I kept hidden at the time, for I still had over half the stones to study to confirm this theory, but it would prove true enough by the following evening once I had had time enough to compile everything I had collected.  I found my rest through another sleeping enchantment from Ellisar, thankfully, though I was exceptionally aroused and quite wet by the time morning arrived.

Our respite was uninterrupted, the kobolds not willing to cross into the stie’s radius to hunt us down, and by noon the following day Shassk had already found two other routes out of the valley along the ancient, connected roadways that would undoubtedly lead to other standing stones.  After a very long and frustration-filled day, I would have conformation of the nature of the ritual that we would need to perform to show our devotion to the “Blinding Golden God”.  Though not an actual orgy, it would skirt very close to it, given the highly sexualized nature of the ritual movements that must be enacted in the center of the circle to receive the dragon god’s blessing.  The first of six such blessings, I might add.  I detailed what we must do and was met with a range of reactions, from incredulity to indifference to eager curiosity (again on Risai’s part).  Gresilda seemed to think that some of Erisaya’s rituals, and likely Yurisaya’s as well, were quite similar to what I described, and were likely of some ancient, shared origin.

Once we had debated what must be done, only Shassk declined to participate, stating that as a drakonae, he was already quite devoted to his draconic ancestors, and would have no trouble entering the vault once it was unlocked to the rest of us.  He said it with such conviction that I dared not say anything to the contrary; I know little of the drakonae and their modern religious practices, so I took him at his word. 

I won’t detail the nature of the ritual in my journal; that has already been done in my notes regarding the entirety of this expedition and the draconic city ruins, but needless to say, I remained the only one to be highly frustrated through shear arousal after the event, though my accessories did not hinder the ritual’s completion.  When it was done, the runes on the stones glowed and pulsed with the primal essence coursing through the earth beneath us, and we received the blessing as promised, a singular draconic rune upon our foreheads that roughly translates as “One Seeking Enlightenment”, which then faded from sight after a few moments.

Following another night’s rest, we would take the route Shassk had discovered that led to the southeast, hoping to finish a second ritual at the next site before returning to Vindinium to resupply before we continued our pilgrimage to the other locations that remained hidden from us. 

If only things had remained so simple as that.

#Lore24 – Entry #319 – Fantasy Month IV #14 – Seeking the First Standing Stones

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

The following morning found our way northerly blocked not only by the increasingly difficult terrain, but by thick fog rolling down from the mountains that we neared.  Shassk and Risai were especially nervous as we continued forward, given the way the fog tended to muffle sound in addition to its severe reduction in our line of sight, making for a nasty ambush.  Ellisar and Korvalis remained vigilant as well, given their keen elven hearing, and Gresilda and I kept our usual conversation to a minimum.  Thankfully the map that I had pulled from the dragon’s vault door gave us a rough idea of where we needed to go, and what I had suspected was once a massive roadway proved to be more navigable than we’d initially found closer to the temple proper, though it had been severely overgrown and in some places filled with what I assumed may have been buried remains of destroyed buildings that had once been party of the massive city, or perhaps signs of geological upheaval.

Thankfully it seemed that no hostile forces called our immediate route theirs and, as midday approached, the fog began to thin out, the sky overhead clearing from the recent storms.  The air was brisk in this area, but as we topped a rise, we could see a definite route through the rocky hills that was almost as straight as an arrow’s shaft between the hills, forming a definite, if heavily wooded, valley.  Passing into the valley, we remained alert, for there were once again signs of animals here, including a recent dear kill that was mostly consumed, most likely by wolves.  Perhaps a mile or so further on there were signs of humanoid habitation, for we found the remnants of a cooking fire and remnants of wood shavings; the tracks Shassk picked out of the soft earth indicated kobolds.

Perhaps two hours later, following a rest at midday, we saw further signs that there were kobolds nearby.  There were more tracks, and we found no less than half a dozen tribal totems, showing that there were at least two tribes of them in the area.  Knowing that the creatures tended to favor darkness and wouldn’t likely attack during the day, we resolved to pick up our pace, hoping perhaps that we could clear their territory before nightfall.  Korvalis moved up to ride with Shassk during this time, keeping his attention on the ground and trees, cautious of the simple but deadly traps kobolds were known for.  Indeed, he guided us around no less than four pit traps and sent us around two deadfall traps that would have sent boulders down upon us. 

As evening approached, we topped another smaller rise and crossed into a rockier region.  We found a suitably defensive position to set up camp, a covered depression in the hillside with some suitable cover from nearby boulders that would provide us some cover.  Ellisar set up several wards around us to alert us if intruders came, and we had a cold meal that evening, forgoing a fire, and fell into fitful rest. 

The kobolds attacked in the early morning hours, while Korvalis was on watch.  I had learned that he was quite comfortable in the dark by this time, practically became one with it when he wanted to.  He had already taken down three of the yipping attackers from his hidden nook above our encampment by the time we got to our feet.  Though we did not escape unscathed, our injuries were not deadly, thanks to Gresilda’s care afterwards, for the kobold weapons were coated with what was likely spider venom, which created a notable lethargy in those of us who received wounds.  We resolved to rest until first light, wary of another attack, then head out on our path northward. 

The kobolds attacked again as dawn approached, this time lobbing crudely made, but nonetheless effective fire bottles our way.  A quick application of conjured water from myself and Gresilda doused the first burst of flames that would have trapped us within our nook, and we rode out quickly, our well-trained horses trampling the small forms of the dog-like kobolds who appeared in front of us.  More fire sprang up around us, and Ellisar returned the favor with one of his wands, sending an explosive fireball into the midst of the attacking creatures, scattering those that weren’t blown apart or ignited into hiding long enough for us to clear out and continue north.  Perhaps the use of such magic would discourage further pursuit, but we weren’t especially hopeful and remained on guard.

Indeed, we would suffer three more kobold attacks as we continued on our path that day, from three different tribes it seemed, all of whom were quite hungry for our blood.  Word must have spread quickly amongst them, and no doubt the hills around us were honeycombed with kobold warrens that they used to pursue us, coming out of well-hidden crevasses to strike at us.  Their tactics adapted as well, for they began to target our horses, and then started trying to slow us and pincer us between them and drive us toward traps they had prepared ahead of time.  I knew that they were quite crafty, but experiencing their cunning firsthand was certainly an enlightening experience.

Haggard and bloodied, our spell reserves low and our fatigue high, bearing more wounds than we had hoped, we trudged forward as fast as we could.  Indeed, the “armor” gifted me by Lady Armenia proved quite capable of defending me, its enchantments reducing the effectiveness of the kobold weaponry as if I wore something akin to chainmail or scale armor, perhaps.  After the final attack in the late afternoon, near sunset, we passed into a circular valley marked by more kobold totems, though these, Shassk said, were warnings to go no further, marking the end of their territory.  Not far after these, the air changed, at once unnaturally calm yet filled with an undeniable, palpable energy. 

This was undoubtedly a site of great power.  We had arrived at our destination intact.  We had found the standing stones.

#Lore24 – Entry #318 – Fantasy Month IV #13 – A Most Intriguing Puzzle

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I studied the draconic ruins for several days, spending much of the time on the massive door that marked a sealed vault of some kind beyond, but venturing into other sections of the ruin when I needed to refresh myself, though never without the adventurers close by should I come upon something quite dangerous.  It seemed almost as if the energy of the ruin, the essence of the dragons that once dwelt within still lingered in some way, keeping those beings and creatures not possessed of higher thoughts away.  Though perhaps it would be our folly to explore within; only time would tell.

Regardless, I translated most of the text upon the door (some of the high draconic phrases are still not entirely clear) and interpreted the imagery upon it as best as I could given my knowledge of the ancient dragons, based upon the notes I have made over the years in previous journals stored within my personal pocket library.  I wish that I had additional volumes at my disposal, those found within the Great Library itself, but only texts which I have personally transcribed are permitted within this pocket dimension, or journals I have yet to fill with my knowledge and experiences. 

Still, the nature of the vault door is similar to what has been encountered in other draconic sites.  This place was once a city, though was treated more as a holy temple by those who worshipped the dragons that dwelt here, its name translated as “The Cathedral of Eminent Tranquility”, once ruled by the golden dragon known as Mega-kuramu’Koganekami, whose many titles and alternate epithets have been transcribed within my research notes, for there are over two dozen of them.  Curiously the name is very close to what would become the kerryn script and language (however forbidden they might be to speak within the Empire, making knowledge of it exceptionally rare here), translating as “Blinding Golden God.”

Contained within the vault, supposedly, are the favored relics of this dragon, as well as collections of its vast wisdom and knowledge, though the wards upon the door prevent it from being opened by anyone who is not a worshipper of the dragon or who has not undergone a trial to prove their devotion to it.  Comparing the map of the vast temple-city, an empire unto itself, with the maps of the region now known as the Wildlands, I believe that I have managed to find some similar geographic features that may potentially lead us to discovering a method of opening this door, assuming the places of power still exist and still hold the primal essence of the dragons within, of course.  Even I am tempted by the potential treasures that lie within, more so the knowledge of the ancient dragons, but to study pristine relics of their time would be an incredible opportunity.  The Heroes of Vindinium are certainly keen on getting inside, the promise of wealth beyond imagination so very tempting.

As to what must be done, there should be six sites spread across the region in a pentagonal arrangement, laid out to form a five-pointed star, with the sixth site located directly within its center, and, based upon my translations, each site must be visited as part of a pilgrimage of sorts, and rituals performed at them to gain the blessings of the draconic god to be allowed to enter into its sacred space.  Comparing ancient to modern maps, I can roughly approximate the locations of three of the sites where these standing stones should be and can assume rough distances toward the others based upon the equal distances between points, though I know not of the lands further south and west of here.

The nearest of these standing stones should be to the north of here, perhaps two days travel given the rougher terrain, though it could take us longer depending on just how reclaimed the area is by nature.  We’ll be setting off in the morning to see if we can locate the site and see if its power still remains; the fact that the door itself still holds its warding is encouraging, but far from conclusive.

#Lore24 – Entry #317 – Fantasy Month IV #12 – Unravelling the Past

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

When Shassk said that we had entered the area of the ruins, I didn’t believe it at first, for I saw nary a stone that looked anything but natural.  I had been made aware that the ruins were rather expansive and not fully explored yet, but the lack of anything visible as we entered this wooded, hilly region meant that in all likelihood, they had been undisturbed for a significant amount of time.  It would take nearly another hour before I started seeing signs of the ancient site, a pile of worked stones covered in moss here or there, an embankment with a section of exposed stonework, then larger mounds that were likely once structures judging by their arrangement.  It was not out of the question that the very hills we were navigating were themselves ruined structures.

As the elevation increased, and more thunder rumbled in the distance, we came to the location that had been described to me previously, in a narrow valley between two large rocky outcroppings lay the entrance to what I immediately recognized as an ancient draconic temple.  The size of the opening, however overgrown by thick vines and trees it was, gave no doubts.  A quick examination of the carvings beneath some of the vegetation proved it, for I had seen several instances of similar scripts and carvings in the archives and in person at known draconic temples.  Ellisar showed me a section they had cleared off previously, his translation of the script accurately indicating that this was indeed once a temple dedicated to the worship of the draconic lord of this region, though it was only the titles, not its actual name, for that would be found elsewhere.

With Shassk and Korvalis in the lead, the party led me deeper into the ruins, through the areas they had cleared already, though Korvalis remained ever alert for ancient traps he might have missed or that may have reset, as well as new dangers that might have come about.  Shassk kept checking for signs of others having come here, stopping occasionally to listen or smell the air before giving us the all-clear. I was anxious to see the deeper areas, so felt rather annoyed at the slowness we advanced, but given the dangers we had already faced on the way in, their caution was likely warranted.

There were many side passages to explore later, though a good number of these were collapsed.  The main hall was mostly intact however, and I kept my notebooks and portable writing desk at the ready to note particular scripts or carvings that stood out as we proceeded, and to give my estimates on measurements, though most of what I saw conformed to standard draconic practices I had seen previously. 

At last, we reached the grand audience chamber, where the draconic lord would stand upon the massive central dais to receive tribute and hand out its orders.  The dais itself was littered with broken stonework, many of the ancient statues and pillars that once stood around the chamber having collapsed over the centuries and millennia.  The area was still open to the sky, though, the circular opening far above letting in plenty of light and moisture, allowing the chamber to become a veritable forest unto itself.  The party had previously set up camp here and did so again while I busied myself with sketches and notes of my observations.

I found the stairwell behind the dais that I had been told about, one of the massive doors that had once stood closed cracked and crumbled in one corner by particularly massive tree roots, allowing access into the deeper parts of the complex, which is where the relics had been collected.  These consisted of several pieces of jewelry, sized for drakonae or humanoids and bearing draconic scrollwork, a half dozen tiny stone statues of dragons beset with gemstones in their breasts, and an ancient ornamental shield, too heavy to have been used practically, with the seal of the dragon lord emblazoned upon it. 

Again following the party, they led me to what had drawn so much excitement about this particular site, garnering the attention of Lady Armenia (and likely other parties that I was not yet aware of):  far below, perhaps two hundred feet down the massive stairwell (we ignored many side passages and other chambers beyond for now) that required us to use climbing ropes to navigate (well, those of us who were not arcanely inclined, anyway), was a massive double door, easily the size of a colossal ancient dragon.  Already my arcane sight told me the ancient warding enchantments upon the door were still intact, perhaps not as powerful as they once were, but still likely to be deadly to those who could not prove their permission to enter.  The gold and platinum plates that adorned the door, not unlike scales, told something of the history of this particular dragon, forming a mural that would take some time to study properly. 

Fortunately enough, the purpose of our expedition was to do just that, and so I began my work in earnest.  So enraptured by the door was I that my sexual frustrations barely came to mind while I worked.

#Lore24 – Entry #240 – Helica Month #28 – The Third Scroll

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

It took us several weeks in the demon-infested seas to make significant headway on our excavations, for the Transgressor had been spotted before our arrival and had stirred them up.  Still, one must work hard for their rewards upon Helica, and my goal was clear.  Once we had reached the ancient city and surveyed it properly, I identified another shrine complex.  This time I would not be alone when venturing into it, for the seas were still dangerous.  Fortunately, I had a group of Drakonae warriors with me, and they were of a breed that were able to breathe underwater, so they were able to assist me in staying down much longer than usual with my work by carrying extra air tanks for me and were quite adept at fending off the demons. 

This shrine complex was mostly intact, though partially buried in centuries of silt and debris, so took some time to excavate, requiring multiple trips down.  I think the presence of Saghirah was somewhat unnerving to my dive-mates, especially when the eyes of her statue began to glow once they were uncovered.  We would later go on to uncover other shrines, and for those of the Amaranths that were still in existence, I could feel their presence now as well, though not as strongly as that of Saghirah.  With their return to this underwater shrine, the demon activity in the area lessened significantly. 

Soon enough, I would find the sacred chamber hidden beneath Saghirah’s shrine, sealed away from the accumulation of silt.  Even though it remained underwater for so long, the third scroll case was unmarred and seemingly as out of place in time as I am, appearing pristine in the gloomy water.  I would nonetheless work carefully to secure it within my pack for the return to the surface and would fight through my fatigue of the dive to see its secrets revealed before I would rest.  I had retrieved some of my previously cached knowledge in the short visits I had made to the mainland in the intervening years, and quickly added the new revelations of this scroll to my previous notes.  The picture has become much clearer now, and I know with absolute certainty that Helica has only so much longer left to live before the Transgressor is ultimately successful in its desire to see it utterly destroyed. 

All will be revealed elsewhere, however, for I have but one more scroll to find, though I know not where as of yet.  My work in assisting the Ketzeryn will continue in the meantime, until I can discern the final scroll’s resting place.  We have found knowledge that, if we are able to bring it into being, would change the face of Helica and potentially deliver a major blow to the iron-fisted control of the Church, though for now it is but a dream.

#Lore24 – Entry #239 – Helica Month #27 – Tranquilities Come and Go, and Yet I Remain

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

I would spend many years amongst the Ketzeryn, traveling amongst the many islands they called their home, in the regions where the Phyresians dared not venture.  I would visit many ruins, both above the sea and below, for the Ketzeryn have managed to restore ancient diving equipment to a mostly working order that allowed us to descend to depths I could never have imagined before, to see ancient buildings and wonders that were long forgotten.  Though much of the ancient technology we found was irreparable, some of the knowledge remained in the form of physical archives, though it would consume many of my years translating the languages that had long been forgotten.

The world of Helica is so much larger than I had once imagined it.  The largest of the continents are held by the Phyresians, while so many more were sunk below the waves in the centuries since the arrival of the Transgressor, either through its immense destructive power or the rising of the sea following the melting of what were once massive polar regions, housing cities and peoples all their own, many of which are now extinct upon Helica. 

I would spend only so long with certain groups, no more than a decade or so with each, before I would drift to another, exploring another region of the world.  The elves amongst the Ketzeryn knew there was something unnatural about me, and many of the shorter-lived races suspected it.  At last, nearly seventy years after I had first joined them, time enough for another Tranquility to come and go upon Helica, I would formally speak to the Ketzeryn elders about my mission.  By now, the seeds I had long been planting of the true nature of the Transgressor had begun to take hold in them, and I did not fear reprisal of any sort.  So, over the course of several days, upon the Ketzeryn’s most secure island home, Gallanholm, in their city of Abu Masfurah, I would for the first time relate my tale to the elders. 

The stir my story and knowledge caused amongst the Ketzeryn elders was significant, but at least they were willing to listen, whereas the Phresians would certainly have closed off their ears to such heresy and have had me killed or once more enslaved.  I sought only to continue my search for the remaining scrolls of Saghirah, to find the absolute truth of the Transgressor and see its destructive cycle end once and for all.  Some thought me insane, and I suppose I can’t blame them for that; I’m certain my time with Tephysea had left me a little unstable, but my nightmares of my frequent tortures had faded through the years, and it had been some time since I had awoken screaming and thrashing about as if possessed.

Word would arrive as our discussions came to an end of a new ruin site discovered in the eastern seas that looked promising.  That night I would be granted the first vision from Saghirah I had experienced since the one that had taken me into the wildlands, though I heard they have since been renamed and civilized since I was there.  It was clear that I had to be part of the expedition to this new site, for there I would the third scroll.  The elders would continue to consider how the knowledge I had given them would be used, and I was granted permission to continue my work with their blessings and would set off the following day.

#Lore24 – Entry #236 – Helica Month #24 – The Lost Years

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

One cannot appreciate the simple things in life, such as feeling the sun upon your skin, or the act of writing in one’s journal, until one has been forced to live as a Beast under the control of the Church of Phyresis.  I thought certainly that I was to be sentenced to death when I was captured along the banks of the Rusting River, but I was granted a “merciful” punishment by Tephysea and enslaved with the others who have displeased the Church, even with the truths I knew.

I did learn something of the process of creating a Beast when the sentence was carried out, and that the Order of the Tamers has a completely different meaning than the one that is commonly known, for it is they who are responsible for developing the process, and it is a special sect within their ranks that oversee its application.  I was placed within the lowest ranks of Beasts, the Servant Breed, my magical arts sealed away, and my leash extremely short. 

As a Beast, I would be made to serve my accuser, Tephysea, exclusively.  I would learn that she possessed a nature even more sadistic than what I had only guessed at before, and every little infraction was punished with pain that often times left me unable to move for several hours.  Though the rubbery flesh of a Beast is resilient to the elements and in the case of the hardier breeds, physical damage, it seemed that mine only amplified the agony I experienced.  Even more insidiously, all the while I was trapped within the new flesh, I was subjected to a constant psychic nudging to obey, serve, and worship the One True God, almost as if its very voice were in my head.  I do not yet know if this was a special punishment for me, or if all Beasts must suffer like this until they willingly accept the commands and do as they are told.  I am not sure if my mental fortitude was a blessing or a curse in all honesty.

I won’t further detail my time as a Beast, for I wish to forget as much of it as I can.  As Tephysea’s slave, I would learn disappointingly little, for I was hardly more than a pet for her to amuse herself with and was kept far away from her machinations.  The outside world may well not have existed for me, for my world revolved around her and her alone, and when I was not caged, I was being tortured behind closed doors. 

It is indeed a sad state that one finds themselves in when the awakening of the Transgressor is seen as a blessing, though this has led to another somewhat unsettling train of thought regarding the Beasts’ existence.  I am curious as to whether the Beasts are somehow magically preserved by their enforced state, for none who knew of my fate seemed surprised by the fact that I lived as long as I did without seemingly succumbing to old age or frailty. 

For, you see, it had been just over sixty years since I was made a Beast, and only the timely arrival of the Transgressor would see me freed of my sentence.  This time, when it came, the Wicked One came to Tyraguard itself and announced its presence by attacking the most holy of cities on Helica.  Tephysea was, conveniently enough, away from the city on one of my few reprieves from her cruelty.  Thinking back on the timing of her absences, I have come to realize what it was she was doing but will not discuss it here.

I am not certain how I survived the blast which destroyed the residences I had been secured within, but suffice to say I awoke sometime later, naked and bleeding on the newly expanded waterfront Tyraguard had gained, the Beast’s magical bond to me apparently broken by the Transgressor’s attack.  With the Sylvanae presence at a minimum given the timing of Tephysea’s absence, I was not recognized by the human priests who found me and took me to one of the treatment stations to tend my wounds, and no signs of my Beast flesh remained to clue them in, its magical anchors, the collar and shackles, melted away.

I wasted no time when I could finally move and hastily fled the city, blending in amongst the refugees bound south for San Granalle.  Though my mind and spirit were unsettled at the time, I would nonetheless plan to resume my journey once I had sufficiently recovered my senses, and I would pick up where I left off in this strange yet familiar world.  I feel it will be some time before my mind is at any kind of ease on my task.  I can still hear the voice of the One True God echoing in my head even though the influence of the Beast’s shell is gone, and I still suffer a keen paranoia and sensitivity to sensations that could only have come from my torture at the hands of the wood elf.  I was never one for vengeance, but it seems I may be developing a taste for it.

#Lore24 – Entry #235 – Helica Month #23 – An Unfortunate Meeting

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

In the weeks I had spent within the Wildlands, word of my survival had reached the ears of those whom I had hoped would ignore such a rumor, and upon my return to the Highlands, I found that the presence of the Church ‘s soldiers was greatly increased, and they possessed orders to apprehend me on sight.  There was no doubt about this, certainly, for I saw posters plastered in every village I came across with my likeness, decrying me as a heretic and a threat to common decency.  It took little imagination who it was that was responsible for such a decree.

I would not make it easy for them, however.  Though the Church’s gaze was practically everywhere, I had long ago learned many ways to travel unnoticed and was no stranger to living in the inhospitable wilderness that most would fear to tread without a proper armed escort.  So it was that I updated my cached documents in their many hiding places in the following days and weeks, avoiding people when I could, and disguising myself when I had no choice but to venture into civilization. 

I have yet to receive further visions from Saghirah, so I must busy myself with finding ways to funnel this information to those willing to listen and who may learn from it, to begin cracking the foundations of the Church, if you will.  A printing press would have worked wonders for this task, but alas, I cannot carry such a thing with me easily, and certainly could not risk remaining in one place too long.  Thus, I have decided that I will attempt to reach the first of those who may be willing to listen to me, the Ketzeryn.

[The following paragraphs have been scrawled hastily.]

Curse my luck!  I’ve been recognized by some of the fishermen that arrived at the docks as I attempted to secure passage down the Rusting River in the hopes of reaching the coast in a matter of days instead of weeks, and now the Sylvanae soldiers are on my trail!  I remember these men, for we had spent an evening with them as our Crusade traveled toward the Frozen-Tree Timberland.  I don’t blame them for the lies they’ve little choice but to believe, but I fear I may be captured unless I can find somewhere to hide, though I know of no such places along the river, and I am dangerously close to Sylvanae territory. 

I will hide this journal away in the ruins I’ve come across, part of those jutting from the ruined city that lies beneath the Rusting River.  May the Amaranths preserve me, for I fear that my time on Helica has come to an end.  The Sylvanae are literally coming out of the woodwork like a furious swarm; Tephysea cannot have me remain as a threat to her growing power.  Forgive me, Empress Saghirah, for I have failed you.

[No further entries have been made.]

#Lore24 – Entry #234 – Helica Month #22 – The Second Scroll

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

My travels would eventually lead me into the extreme northwest territory, a broken and shattered wasteland that once was perhaps a great city amongst the mountains, littered with ruins of the past.  There were even some rusted hulks of ancient forbidden machines laying amongst the rocky spires, some kinds of ships that were able to traverse the skies themselves.  It was this area that I had dreamed of, almost exactly as I found it now, right down to the tribal markings that indicated ownership by some monstrous race or another.  After some further exploration of the surrounding remnants, I approached the broken remains of another shrine complex, similar in layout to the one I had found in Grad Artanais, though in a much worse state, fully three-quarters of it broken off and vanished beneath the churning sea far below, ending at a crumbling, shear drop.  And yet, as I ventured inside, I saw that the shrine of Saghirah yet remained, and sensed her presence once again, though her statue was long ago shattered and defaced. 

With some effort, I found the hidden chamber I knew would be there, though I had to spend quite some time digging my way through the collapsed rubble.  The inner chamber was in a sad state as well, all but one of the additional visages of the Amaranth broken, most of the circular space filled with rubble from the collapse, but the altar remained, and upon it rested another scroll case.  Perhaps I was simply more jaded now, for the revelations contained within the ancient text were not as jarring to me as had been contained within the first scroll, but the information within was nonetheless enlightening. 

Given what I had witnessed in Grad Artanais and the betrayal that I had suffered, much of the true nature of Phyresis and the Church that worshipped it was brought to light, in glaring contradiction to the accepted truths they have spread across civilized Helica.  No more will I say here for now, for the time is not right, nor is this the right place.  I have brought a sufficient supply of materials that I may properly copy and retell all that I have thusly learned, and I will cache these copies safely away for the future, should I be unsuccessful in my efforts. 

Saghirah has entrusted this task to me, however, so I cannot allow myself to fail, for the sake of Helica and its people.