Beldhir’s Demise

Their steps quickened as they ran away from the sooty demon, who thrashed at them through the snowy woods. Unlike Darla, Beldhir and Chief narrowly escaped the snowy demon's traps. Clearly their foe was not only devious but unnaturally strong. Its lightning fast speed, coupled with its ability to instantly dissolve into black dust, allowed the monster to slip past the party unseen.
After releasing Darla from her tree top shackles, Beldhir began searching the area for any sign of the predator who was clearly stalking the party. Hoof prints in the snow led the mis-adventurers to believe the beast was circling the party in preparation for a second ambush. Davwyn felt inspired to set a trap with his portable hole, should the beast make the poor choice of returning once more. Suddenly, the shrouded horror exploded into action, landing amongst the group of Halflings. Thinking quickly, Davwyn dove into his portable hole in an attempt to thwart the beast, but sadly this only led to disaster as Krampus picked up the portable hole and escaped through the curtains of snow. Knowing Davwyn had limited air, the party jumped into action to rescue their compatriot, but in the scramble Beldhir, Chief, and Darla found themselves separated and alone. The midnight blizzard made it that no seasoned scout could have found their bearings, let alone several green adventurers. While Chief and Cortana unknowingly headed eastward towards Raiford's Keep, Beldhir headed further south into the face of the icy winds.
Beldhir could no longer hear the echoing footsteps of his friends, only noting his own lonely steps as they weakly thrust through the deepening crust of snow. Each step was like the sickly kiss of a leach, sapping his strength with each stride. Every yard traversed felt like a day stolen from his life. He could feel his core temperature dropping as the beads of sweat he earned during the fight now crystalize on his face with icy betrayal. Beldhir pondered his own mortality as he weighed out the real consequences of spending a night in a blizzard without shelter. Every few seconds he would light a small firebolt to momentarily purge his hands of excruciating pain as frostbite slowly set in. His fingers slowly immobilized and his lips froze shut, even the moisture from his breath created an icy barrier over his mouth, sentencing him to eternal silence.
Now unable to cast even the most basic of spells, Beldhir sank to his knees as his strength gave out. He leaned against a tree as an impromptu shelter. No friends, no heat, and no hope. He knew he was already dead, he just hadn't stopped breathing yet. He laid against the frozen oak as his eyelids began to solidify, leaving his eyes half open and half closed. With his final few moments he pondered what his life had amounted to: he lived in one of the most beautiful towns in all of Kurnst, he made several true friends (which is more than most can say), he mustered the courage to use his magic in public, he drank the best beer in the land, saved several children from untold predations, felled a night hag, flew across a bottomless gorge, played The Rift and lived to tell the tail, and witnessed the legendary Deck of Many Things. Not bad for a simple farmer.
Beldhir felt at peace for a moment until he realized he was not satiated with his current lot. He was not ready to die. He would have wept bitter tears had his eyes not already been frozen in place. As his skin wove itself to the icy tree, he felt his heart rate begin to slow. Each beat groaning from exhaustion, growing further apart as he crept closer to death. Thump... Thump....... Thump ......... Thump......................... Thump.
One final beat lept in his chest. As the last contraction of his heart resounded, like a final crashing cymbal, an iridescent, orange mushroom popped through the snow at Beldhir's feet. more and more began multiplying around him. They illuminated the snowy darkness like a lit walkway leading towards a warm summer cottage. Highlighted by the warm glow, a buxom silhouette gracefully floated towards the frozen halfling. Her beautiful form and tall stature were magnified by his crumpled state. The dark siren wrapped a warm cloak around his nearly lifeless shoulders and with a voice as sweet as honey she whispered, "I can show you eternal purpose. I grant you endless power. I can give you life." Knowing this creature was an angel sent to usher his soul to the gods, Beldhir mustered an excruciating smile that tore his lips open; as the blood flowed from his lips and formed into icicles on his mouth, Beldhir knew his time had come.
Gently laying her hand on his chest, she spoke once again, "death is not to be feared little one. You only need to ask and I will usher in life beyond living." She leaned in closer, allowing him to focus on her face. Her eyes were soft and brown like freshly tilled soil, rich in minerals. Her nose was long and straight like the plow. Her high cheek bones were sharp and lovely like the hills outside Fleuga. Even her breath was warm and inviting, almost intoxicating, like the familiar smell of rain before the storm. Her every move was rhythmic and enticing, enthralling him to his core, making the journey into death that much more pleasant. She smiled softly as she stared into his eyes, gazing through him like she was trying to see into his very soul. She spoke again with hushed tones, "accept my blessing and I will carry you on my bosom like one of my children, into your next life." Making his peace with the inevitable, Beldhir lifted his head back and opened his torn lips once again. As he did, the creature lifted her hand above his head and pricked her palm. Several small drops of viscous violet liquid dropped into his gullet, sealing his fate. Tasting her offering, he fell into a deep and twisted slumber.
He watched violent visions of forests falling into disorder and overgrowth, felled trees being engulfed by mushrooms and all manner of decomposers, large cities overflowing with dead bodies, sewage pouring into houses from the streets, wickedness and violence coursing through the land, a severed head with worms that excavated through the freshly dead eyes, and a nightmarish chaos perverting all nature. Then everything went completely silent. Deafening, endless nothing resounded for what seemed an eternity. Beldhir stood in complete darkness, not knowing which way was up or down. There was no gravity, no sense of space, nor time. Just endless nothing stood before the halfling, engulfed by complete emptiness. He looked down and to inspect his body. His skin appeared healed, no signs of scars or bruising. He did not feel cold anymore but neither did he feel warm. He was nothing but an empty vessel floating idly on a sea of onyx.
As eternity passed him by, Beldhir once again smelled that familiar hint of approaching rain. He could feel the warmth of her familiar breath on his cheek. He looked down again to see several of those same orange mushrooms begin to grow up around his feet, igniting the darkness around him. They began to engorge and multiply rapidly. They grew so suddenly that Beldhir became terrified, running back into the void. The mushrooms' fingerlike hyphae wrapped themselves around his legs and burrowed into his skin, growing up through his legs and into his stomach. He became bloated as they expanded inside every inch of his body. His entrails exploded out of his body, erupting rich volcanic dirt all around him, spreading soil and mushroom spores throughout the void. He looked up to see the beautiful female's face, just before he was melted into a pool of oily sludge.
From his corpse enriched loam, thousands of large mushrooms pressed outwards into the void. They formed into pods as tall as trees and dense as jungles. They twisted and groaned as they grew from his sacrifice, curving and coiling into the darkness. The explosive birth of plant life went in every direction, so far that it even created a new horizon. Terrifying as they were beautiful, the fungus grew together into what seemed an intentional architecture. A beautiful acropolis made of fungus grew around the beautiful creature. A throne formed underneath her as she sat down in the middle of her new mycelium citadel. A new kingdom born from Beldhir's death.
She raised her hand in a slow and dramatic manner, her fingers pointing to a small area in front of her on the floor. The fungus began to creep away revealing the original soil from which the mushrooms were created, what was once a simple halfling. She flicked her finger upwards in a commanding fashion like a maestro conducting a concerto. A scaled hand burst through the soil. A resurrected Beldhir emerged stronger and more deadly than he was before. He looked upon his new enthroned master with a burning devotion.
Beldhir opened his eyes to see his queen standing over him, shielding him from the icy storm. He lifted himself off the ground with renewed strength. Looking around him, Beldhir's new unfettered powers allowed him to pierce the night unhindered by the storm. He looked upon Raiford's Keep in the distance with envious eyes, desiring to please his new master. He saw the potential. He knew his purpose. He bowed before his master and whispered, "What would you have of me, Lady Arnon." The Queen of Decay responded, "Rise, Thrall Poison." And leading Beldhir by the hand, Arnon slipped through the veil of cascading snow. The pair disappeared into the night without ever leaving a trace, not even a footprint, except for one solitary iridescent, orange mushroom that reached out to Beldhir's tree with a sickly twisting finger.