Sahin Mahdi Darayuz Setti
Sahin Mahdi Darayuz Setti
The elderst surviving son of Mahdi, leader of the Setti tribe in the Ebon Wastes, Sahin was taught the ways of the Eldritch Knignt under the teachings born from the fruitfull encounter of his people and the hermit sage Daiba.
His political marriege to Parmise, a high-priestess of the clergy of Lumenor in search of her uncle - the arcane sage, was blessed with a healthy daughter, Shiva. The union of his tribe to the marching forces of the Aibna-al-Shamsi engulfed everyone in the flames of war. Proper conquest - against the terrors of the Crimson Swarm.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
The typical dry bodytype of desert nomad tribes, built for stamina over short bursts of strength.
Body Features
The numerous scars of a warrior, and the lava bath of a fool.
Facial Features
Prominent cheekbones and deep set eyes, signs of days long passages through the desert with little shade or water.
Apparel & Accessories
A turquise ring, once the signet of a tribe leader.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Blind rage is the same as blind obedience after all.
Education
The traditions of his forefathers
Daiba's Teachings
Parmise and the clergy of Lumenor's indoctrination
Accomplishments & Achievements
Activated once the original Stone in Chaeranthos
Faced Maelvorna's Avatar
Found the real Chalice in Cedar Island (and drank)
Failures & Embarrassments
Failed to protect his people, both those back home and those travelling with him
Was slain by the Guts Eater, in a fight that was easily avoidable.
Mental Trauma
Paranoid Schizophrenia (occasionaly)
His inner dialogue often involves his dead loved ones
Morality & Philosophy
When one has lost everything, he can finally start walking the path without fear.
One cannot afford second thoughts anymore, the only way is forward.
Taboos
There were some, but nessecity has erased a few.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
To free humanity of the opressive rule of the gods
To uncover the truth behind this veil of layered lies
Savvies & Ineptitudes
Having lived his whole life in the desert, he needs some time to adjust to new environments.
Likes & Dislikes
Enjoys poetry
Likes sweet fruit like Plums and Fygs
Virtues & Personality perks
Will not shy from danger
Vices & Personality flaws
Not so good at calculating said danger
Social
Contacts & Relations
Crimson Swarm (namely Arianrod)
Captain Valanthiriel Varlath
Ilesh Ahtar
Family Ties
Brothers: Shirhan and co. (rip)
Wife: Parmise (rip)
Daughter (Parmise): Shiva (rip)
Son (Arianrod): Said
Religious Views
At first a worshipper to the Sun
Converted to Lumenor's faith
Baptised by Maelvornas Crimson Swarm
Social Aptitude
Thanks to his wife, he can adapt to social contexts more civil than desert life as well.
Hobbies & Pets
He had a dog, Anubis
Relationships
A warrior of the Ebon Desert, on a journey to the depths of the Crimson Wastes that seems to stretch all the way to the edge of the Crystal Pass.
View Character Profile
Alignment
True Neutral
Age
28 years old
Date of Birth
Sunday 8 September 732 AoS
Birthplace
Ebon Wastes
Spouses
Arianrod
(spouse)
Parmise Aibna al Shamsi
(spouse)
Siblings
Gender
Male
Eyes
Brown
Hair
Dark Brown
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Tanned
Height
178cm
Weight
70kg
Common
Deep Speech
Primordial
Western Warrior's Festivities
20 September, 778 AoS - Vatënhad
In the morning, a quest arrived at our door. Some Valar Alqualira - a practically exiled son of House Alqualira.
According to him, his sister fell in love with some annoying Varlath. For some reason or another, she sent a demon after his companion Simon. He wants us to go and escort the poor fellow somewhere far away, to safety. I wouldn't be surprised if this Varlath was related to someone I know...
Althea correctly observes that it seems like he was somewhat in a hurry to get us out of the city. Probably there is something here he doesen't want us to find.
Flying as wind, we quickly find this fellow riding on his carriage, along with a girl as was described to us. He treats her as his daughter - kinda warms your heart a little. He is travelling north to find a ship; since we got him before the demon, we are going to accompany him. We got paid for this after all, and I have no other leads as to what is what in this side of the world. I should keep going as a Valoran mercenary.
As we get close to Vatënhad, we see some flaming ships at the horizon. Yet it is no battle. It seems to be some sort of festival, honoring gods the like of Vornak. We decide to check it out, since Simon is also kind of a merchant after all.
We get around in time for the procession that randomly blesses the croud, giving away the spoils of those who never got back for their share. It feels more bitter than hopefull, receiving such a gift. This gesture is a parallel to Saekonungr's foretold return, when he will bring back spoils from the Land of the Gods.
As the parade is moving along, a fair-skinned redhaid girl gives me her blessing; she paints my face while chanting as if divinely possesed, "May your family await you at your every return". This wish feels strangely warm, like an impossible dream.
At nightfall the real festivities begin. Beer, offerings, a cereminial battle. With Althea we notice the entrancing incence and choose to not partake, we just got back our lives, better not lose them in a battle that's not ours. As we were getting away from the arena, we see thunder cut a ship in two. Lykastea was already saving the sailors from the stormy waters in animal form, Althea quickly swam deeper too. I know my limits, the waves were strong even at the shore, so I stuck to getting them out to the beach once in shallow waters. To many of the warriors, that seemd like their gods were partaking in the festival. Pfft to hell with such participation.
My dreams that night were quite vivid. I remember some of it, "In Ear, behind the walls, the pillar of flames is still burning". I sight that once made my insides twist with hate and fear, now feels strangely comforting.
Third Time's the Charm
19 September, 778 AoS - Dorn Thurim
I live, again. Mother's grace saved us after all. 18 years have passed. There is a lot to take in. We are at the other side of the continent.
Lykastea fulfilled her promise, even if two decades have gone by. She found me and Althea petrified in a cavern, hidden behind the veils of a waterfall. How did we even get here? She tells us that in all the time we were asleep, the Horde tried to get through the Pass, but failed. They fell back deep in the desert. I hope in my heart that Said and Arianrod are both alive. Sweet Asara too. How many years do snake-men live? He was already past his prime, old man Elsolis.
A scared dark-skinned elf found us talking there, and after some talks with his conclave, some time in a cell, some discussions with their mage, we reach a satisfactory conclusion for all of us - including Lykastea's sentient trees. Seeing that the conclave is worried about their forest, Lykastea gave them some notes she took from a spelljammer that crashed there. We believe that Mother's lifeforms sprouted from there; maybe that's how we ended up here too.
We are to stay under surveilance until we speak with another (bigger?) conclave around here. We were accompanied to a room in a city called Dorm Thurin. Here, everything is square and claustrophobic. A dwarf city, Sculptor's city. No wander it feels so suppressive.
Here everyone is as pale as a ghost, the sun barely warms your skin. I never thought I'd say this, but I kinda miss home.
Journey’s End
20 March, 760 AoS
I am climbing stairs. An infinite amount of infinite height. But when I lose my strength, a guiding starlight pushes me back up again. An eternity later, unbelievably I reach the summit. I could not grasp the size of the universe before, but now I think I can. It has to be about the size of this masked figure in the back of this room of untangible size, holding some sort of scales.
I remember now; the chalice! The strings of fate I had felt suffocating me, binding me, now I get it. I drank now, but for before. Those binds are outside of time. My decisions past have brought those close to me to ruin. But now, now oh I have become free!
I wake in the arms of the angel I saw before. She is no angel she says, she is called Lycastea, a nymph also looking for the flower. Yet without passing the trials, she is unable to ask for the Godesse's favor. The mulan girl is called Althea, she also came here to pass the trials but was stopped at the dorrstep bu the Ifrit.
Elsolis and Asara are alive! Thank the heavens, I cannot believe my eyes! But it seems like there is no time to properly complete the trials, for the volcano seems to be about to erupt. Even without the favor, we all rush to the flower. We cannot afford to return empty-handed, not after all this.
The Goddess seems angry, like her volcano. She sends Asara far far away, may Mother protect her. As Maelvorna's champion, Elsolis asks for the flower. Incendra's Avatar tries to send him away too, yet the old snake resists, somehow? She does send him away at the end, but as a blessing after all.
She also lets the dryad fly away too, so that leaves me and Althea in front of her anger. In the end, our fate is left in the hands of Mother's benevolence. As the lava is rising, I pray that the Goddess keeps us in her embrace, so that even after our deaths we can continue to fight with the neverdying fire she gave us. Amen.
The Chalice
19 March, 760 AoS
I sleep, I awake, I cannot move my body, I fall into delirious sleep again.
What part of it is real, what is an omen, and what is just a feverdream, I cannot tell. Nor I can recall it clearly.
Part of it seems like memories of my own life; my childhood home, my marriage, my travels. Yet another part of it seems like watching the strings of fate revealing themselves as thow alive, weaving the tapestry of my past. I feel like I spoke with the Godess of Chaos Herself, and not just figures from my memories... If only I could remember it all.
What I do recall is a single question; back at the salamaders' hall, do I choose to save myself, and get away safely with the flower, or do I die and save my comrades instead? The answer could not have been easier. Oh what I wouldn't do to not lose anyone else I hold dear.
In a brief waking moment, I see an angel nursing me, along an eastern girl. Yet I cannot know my saviours, I sink again to sleep.
Enter the Temple of Flames
18 March, 760 AoS
Elsolis, he lives! He returned after all, even though his revival seems a bit different... But I will not question our good fortune to have him back.
There are two towers, one on each side of the main hall. The bridge that connects one of them is broken, only the chain remains. We decide to start with the intact one.
Asara seems to be lost in thought, and as for Elsolis... It seems that the flames of rebirth still haven't gone out, somehow?
As our scouting predicted, as soon as we stepped in the hall, something clicked. A mechanism was activated, and the whole floor started rotating. As we were fighting the flying candle-lit demons that appeared, we had to take care not to activate the floor-trap; should we all gather at one quarter of the rotating floor, spikes would emerge from below. Every few seconds, as the pillar shifted gears, a set of opposing doors would open sequentially. Because of my damned leg I could not get greedy though; I grabbed a lion statuette and flew out of the open door; we risked getting trapped otherwise.
Above the winding staircase, three chests were waiting the champions seekeng the Goddesse's favor. Inscribed on each of them were the words: "Mind, for the soul, for the body of the warrior".
One of the was already opened; the Soul. Was this how Elsolis came back to us? Is this why the ressurection was different this time?
I hastily open the last chest; my anticipation was well met, I could finally move properly again! Asara also regained her powers through the goft of the first chest, and with all of us quite refreshed we took a short rest at this hall that had a pleasant view through a balcony overlooking the courtyard below.
This whole temple is like an archaelological site; anywhere you look there are tales of ages past, that no living being I have met would remember.
Finally, we arrive at a hall above a lava pond, with bridges connecting a path to a lovked door, guarded by four statues; seemingly Incendra helrelf, along with her four daughters. Salamanders got out of the lava to block our path, but things got out of hand when Arianrod's statue begun to move.
As the lizards were trying to drown us in the flaming river, Elsolis reminds us of the other property of the chalice; a vessel overflowing with any liquid one can think of.
Out of breath, I wish for the simplest potion, afraid of the price should I want something more. I drink, yet nothing seemed to happen. Fuck.
I see both Elsolis and Asara fall before me; yet again, yet again I could not protect them. Thank the gods Asara seems to be coming back to life as herself. The old snake seems to be changing, I'll miss him so.
I take the horn from the altar, and carry my friends back to the balcony to wait for their return.
From the distance, a familiar figure approaches. Ahtar descends from the heavens, but instead of her kind words I hear ill omens; by the gods, I drank! I drank from the Chalice! Curses! Oh, curse the merciless gods, that twist mens fates so! The angel incites me go away, live the rest of my days alone, for I will bring only woe to all who walk alongside me. But alas, if I do this, all shall have been for nothing. All those deaths, all those sacrifices, nothing. I must keep moving forward, I must. For else, I have nothing.
The Guardian of the Gate
17 March, 760 AoS, Evening
The rest of us, Elsolis Asara and I, continued our way to the mountain. The only way across seemed to be an insane jump above the sea, as the strong winds would throw us off the giant chains hanging below. We all glided, but only the old-snake was relatively unharmed. My fucking leg, I cannot step on it properly.
At the gates of the temple, an Ifrit would stand guart, testing those who seek Her Favor. Elsolis would face it one-on-one, to grant entry for all of us, seeing that I can't even walk properly after our landing. Fuck.
Elsolis kept a good fight, but ultimately fell. His sacrifice granted us our entry though, that's how great a warrior he was.
The Depths of the Lake
17 March, 760 AoS, Late Noon
At the bottom, a creature of the abyss was waiting for us. My mind travels to my beloved brother, oh Shirhan how my blood boils. We sent the aberration right back where it came from. Apparently it was a royal merfolk once.
Maelvorna herself opened the doors of the crumbling, sunken fort for us. In my heart I feel it, I have nothing to fear. The interior felt like some sort of wind musical instrument, with three chambers and a black pyramid at the center. We split in two groups, me and Asara got the library and we immedeately started reading; the more we learned the more questions we had to answer. Who were the original seven? What happened to the rest of the Seekers if Calder and Suguru remain here? Where are the other Cradles, with these Slayers? What sort of power can create a god? Who is this Scarlet King that Omar also spoke of?
Suddenly, noise. A school of fish keeps hitting the abjuration symbols of the pyramid, ultimately detonating all of them. Unbelievable. And from there, the author of the texts, and a child of the Scarlet King, kept in this cradle, is freed.
His name is Ogen. From what I understood from all our reading, he is like a living philosopher's stone. As the stone itself is a state of mind, one could say. In his hand he holds te Chalice; the real one. The one safeguarded by Maelvolna's vessel is a decoy. It was her touch, her "gift to him", that left a curse when he went there to research the Stone. Is this how undeath was spread?
He thanked us, or rather, his "good luck" for freeing him, and gave us the Chalice as he has no use for it anymore. A terrifying fate, drinking from it after all. Before departing, he showed us Calder's Symbol of Power. With his merfolk lineage, Naiman wanted to try to take it for himself. It seems that he got greedy, the poor bastard. He really wanted to make his captain proud.
The Way to the Temple
17 March, 760 AoS
As we start to walk in the direction of the mountain, a sweet, feminine voice urges us to wait.
A young girl with crimson hair called to us. Her name is Asara Literally flame or ashborn, a "title" for the children of the swarm that bear the Mark. She is one of Arianrod's clerics. By the gods, she is the spitting image of Parmise. Is my mind playing tricks with me again?
She will aid us on our journey. We will go through the forest of Cedar trees to the mountain on the edge of the isle, where we will use a Horn to open the gates to the location of the Orchid Flower. Naiman is coming with us, Valantheriel wants part of the loot.
As usual navigating unfamiliar territory is not my strongest part, I had us take a detour through poisonous living vines hanging from the tall cedar trees. I wish Rosaria was still with us, with her warmth and guidance. I hope she was reborn as a windflower, or a little songbird. Reaching the shoreline, we found the route we had to follow.
Sweet Asara looks a lot like Parmise, but the resemblance stops at their features. A typical child of the swarm, she never knew her mother. The poor girl was asking me to tell her about a mother's warm embrace, but all I could think was her, how could she do it, did she ever love her children? What can I tell her on motherly love? I'm not qualified to answer her.
Changing the subject, Asara asks if I would sacrifice myself for my goal, as if she was searching for something more than my reply. Ah, she is betrothed to my son. She hears he takes after me, that's why those questions. Gods, I take this child as my own. Deeply moved, I gift her the ring I would have given my little Shiva for her wedding. Sweet Asara wet her beautiful eyes, and we stayed in embrace for a little while. I am unsure who was comforting whom.
All the while during our short rest, Elsolis was playing music. A weird scenery.
We continue our way downhill, looking for the temple of the lake. Thankfully we passed by some fields of acid-spitting plants unharmed. Closing on the lake, we saw some huge, three-horned creatures fighting each other. Once one was killed, the rest continue their grazing. They are herbivores?
A hint that we are heading in the right direction, we pass by an overgrown garden filled with ruins. It must have been part of the complex of the Godesses' temple. There were statues of all her daughters, Arianrod, Ceridwen and Bloodewed. For the latter, we discussed that there is the possibility that she is now going by as Vanessa, one of the leading forces of the rebellion. Her tracks seem to be lost after the battle at the Golden City.
Reaching the lake we hear someone playing the flute, and on our arrival we see the temble descending in the depths of the lake. Naiman spotted a cetus as big as the three-horned creatures we saw before, even larger probably. It seemed to be looking for food, how are we going past it?
Elsolis, the old-snake dragged with our help the carcass of the dead three-horned monster by rolling it on some tree-trunks. That way, it fell right in the lake - after allmost falling on our heads. On our way back-and-forth we also found the remains of those tending to the temple at some point.
While the cetus was busy devouring the three-horned creature, we took off our armours and dove in.
Island of Cedar Trees
17 March, 760 AoS, Morning
It was a five-day journey until the Island of Cedars. The Sisters had already disembarked.
Captain Valantheriel wanted to sacktheir ship, seemingly just for the thrill of it. A being with divine power feels alive in different ways I guess, ot it may simply be in her character. Firaz is usually the voice of reason, but it looks like he also wants the spoils.
She started a talk that has become weirdly usual, that gods and their clergy will give away half-truths and conceil the rest in order to manipulate their believers. She asked me directly whom do I serve, the Godess or the Three Sisters.
Well, as long as I remain naive enough to believe that the Holy Whore and me share a common goal, I will gladly do Her bidding. It is true that the flower we are sent to claim is an Unknown, but so was the Chalice. Everything shall be revealed, in time.
Oh, what is this woman thinking? She started provoking me by asking thinks like if I would accept an invitation from her to a duel, or if I would run away if there was no one to see me flee. How foolish, I would still know that I ran. Also, I have seen her turn into a fish, she is fallible too.
But, as a humble servant of the Godess, and as Valantheriel's sailor on this ship, I wanted these two forces to work together. I hoped in vain.
Valantheriel formed her "sphere" and rushed toward the Crone, moving the ship toward the position of the hecatomb. Now, er are sailing among carcasses.
The older woman corroded about half the sphere under her own control. And, she speaks inside my heart; she asks me to assail the captain! I would not shame the Goddess with such cowardice. The Crone only wants the gold, greed is not in the name of the Crimson Mother. Oh Valantheriel, I never guessed she wanted to clash with the Sisters!
It was Vornak, the hag's father that came to settle the fight. His dissaproval of this charade could not be hidden. A son of Selvira and Skyldar, he must resent unnecessary fights without glory. Crone's mother is Incendra, daughter to Lumenor and Maelvorna, the other patron deity of this island.
We followed him to his throne, made out of a dragon's skull. Next to it was Arianrod with her priestesses, my guess is as another offering, yet not accepted. What's with those sulken faces? I am not used to seeing her bearing an expression not tied to an almost lustfull pride. The fower is atop the mountain, we are free to try to take it.
Another kind of Spiral
2 March, 760 AoS
Next morning we all headed to the temple they discovered at the volcano at the center of the island. I was hoping to understand the writings there, if they were in some sort of Primordial or Deep Speech maybe, since I got some parts of the tentacle-creatures' speech. But tongue is another thing from inscriptions after all.
Elsolis found traces of a pool of blood in the center of the room, seemingly from some sort of sacrifice. The holes in the openings of the volacanic cavern also focused an island in the center of the cluster. And we all felt something that made us quite uneasy.
Naiman, the doctor, said that that which is spying on us is probably over there. The captain told us of Charybdis, a terror that devours the ships that dissapear in these waters.
In any way, in order to leave this island, we must spend a couple of days repairing Nalu. It seems like if this Charybdis does not get its sacrifices (our guess is the corrupted merfolk that are sacrificed by the tentacle-mind-fucking-creatures), it would turn on us.
So it was decided to kill the nasty fishmen that had retreated deep in their caves. Even if I was not the one hunting them, I did not stop this slaughter. I am also to blame. Yet, was it life that they were living? Raised as cattle, with only death ahead of them?
The First of the Crumb Islands
1 March, 760 AoS
We get off to the shore of a small island, in order to gather wood and other rescources to repair the ship.
Just before dawn breaks, the rotten fishes that resemble the Merfolk ambush us. They spoke in a tongue that I could not comprehend. We burned them alive, the scum, but when their "priest" realised the situation was hopeless started screaming something incomprehensible, got in the water and got grabbed by some sort of tentacle. Is that how he prefered to die? Some sort of ritual-death?
In some sort of human-ladder we got back up on the ship to get some rest. At dawn, we begin the scouting mission. We shall move in groups of three, starting from opposite sides of the island and moving toward the center, which seems to be an inactive volcano.
The air here feels so heavy, like I am swimming in it. I am still so exhausted, it seems I have yet to recover completely from the stupid fish-poison dart from yesterday's skirmish. It seems it took a toll on my body after all, I led us in circles in this god-forsaken jungle. Snakes, poisonus frogs, carnivorous plants, everithing in this thicket wants to kill you.
Once it starts to rain, it stops. The waterproof wool coats we made before are proving real usefull, along with the machetes. We reach a - may the gods make it so - clearing. On one side, blossoms that smell like rotten flesh, and on the other side an oversized rose. Obviously, we rest where we could breathe properly.
Yet may fire descend from the heavens and burn us for our foolishness; there was laying an enchantress, half rosebud half woman. She played with our minds; poor Elsolis has dear sweet Rosaria's blood at his hands. She must have realised the witch's intentions, so she used him to kill her before she'd dispell her charm... We lost an angel that day. I wish with all my heart that she is reborn as something free and beautifull, just as she lived, bless her kind soul.
Of course, without Rosaria we never found our way. We found ourselves atop a rocky cliff. As the storm was approaching, I tried to find shelter at some crevice, but I slipped. The rock felt as if was covered in oil! The sea, like a desert made of water, but more sly still!
Climbing back up, we made a quick shelter yet the winds and the waves were too strong; we got pushed back to the forest. Chasing our things, we somehow managed to find cover for the night in the branches of a tree. We were kind of safe from the elements, but not entirely safe. A cloaked figure attacked our minds again!
It must be the Rosebud whore! But no, the fire had almost no effect? It was a creature with tentacles, that was trying to get literally inside Elsolis' brain. Thank the gods, I managed to kill it quickly, and the abomination scurried out of his body with its slimy apendeges. Never having seen before a creature like this, I decided to keep its mantle.
Alas, instead of the island's center we returned to the shore. The captain's group had also returned, having killed dozens of these tentacle-creatures on their way. Poor Raz lost his arm... Another merfolk, the ship's doctor, said that it was some poison that was preventing the bleeding from stopping.
I almost miss home, where the snakes could only hide in the rocks...
In Unfamiliar Waters
1 March, 760 AoS, before Dawn
As the ship is sliding silently along the waves, Rosaria is stationed above with the Captain so she can be a lookout and be on guard to use her druidic commands on the elements like the air or the water if we are caught in a pinch, I am sent to the front crossbows while Elsolis goes to the main catapult while doubling as a rower below seeing that he has sailing experiance after all.
At the ballista with me is a merfolk, Raz. He used to live at some island cluster around here, but he insists that crossing them would be unwise. Land-dewlling man-eating merfolk live there, and will eat anyone who goes in the water. And "something" else dwells there, apparently.
Nalu (the ship's name that means Wave, and if written backwards reads as Luna - moon, sweet) is conceild by a lunar veil created by Valantheriel, so we kept on going undetected for some time.
But as soon as the moon set, the veil was despelled. A pirate ship spotted us, along with its accopmanying merchant-ship. They tried to pierce us, but thanks to the Captains manoevres, it was us who rammed them.
We did that what is calld "risalto". Even though their mage turned Valantheriel into a fish, and when I cornered him he threw me into the sea, we ended up capturing their pirate ship. Melassa we named it.
Now that Nalu was accompanied by a pirate ship, we managed to get out of the cove. yet as we steered out in the open sea instead of the pirate's usual route, they noticed something was off.
Seven ships were on our tail, we rowed like madmen. We did some damage but their crossbows were onto us. While Melassa, the lighter ship got ahead, our ship Nalu was lagging behind. So, the plan became to trap their ships in a whirl. As we were getting a little desperate, we found a canon aboard the pirate ship (obviously related to Abdouls shady papers). Elsolis gambled a volley that passed through all their steering whills in a straight line, that crazy old snake-man!
As the whirl pulled the ships' remaining steering wheels to its center, the captain created some kind of sphere where space within it obeyed her own rules. That's how we turned the tides of the naval battle and with a half-sunk Nalu and Melassa we swiftly headed toward the storm, since no sane sailor would follow us there.
The Ship Sets Sail
28 February, 760 AoS
We all wake up safe and sound at Arianrod's tents just outside the city walls.
Even though she was the one who sent the painting, thankfully she urges me not to take these coincidences all that seriously. A nice point was how she noted that it is the actions of the Gods that look like those of Men, not the other way around.
Arianrod also confirmed that she and her sisters are searching for those Children. Maybe that is part of my calling beyond the desert.
We are summoned to join the Priestesses at their Mission at Cider Island. But for this, we must find a ship of our own. Only Rosaria, a woman, would be able to sail with Arianrod and the others.
We venture back to the city in order to find ourselves a captain. After some asking around, we find one who whould make the journey, take a woman on board, and leave the dock while the pirate's ship is still docked. Captain Valantheriel Varlath, a tall woman whom we met and closed the deal at a brothel, as she was doing her buisness with one of the girls. That sums up her attitude quite nicely. Yet it is somehow reassuring. Like she is extremely relaxed so she can be extremely focus where it counts? Let's hope it really is like this and we don't get ourselves killed. We go out before dawn breaks.
Elsolis and Rosaria -no wonder- want to stay to have some fun at the brothel. I'd rather return to our room, get some rest before we go.
This is a city that never sleeps. Even at these little hours, there are people selling, celebrating, making love.
As I walk past an alley, I see Abdul, the net merchant. He seems to be in a hurry, explaining somthing to two hooded armed men. Well, not my job. Υou lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.
Elsolis was more concerned though. He later told me that while hidden in a barrel, he overheard them talking something about the pirates passing through a cave near the Yellow Stream. The spider cave maybe?
Firaz is the one who came to pick us up. The ship's Second-in-command, he comes from Themis. His sailor-father left him behind with his prostitute-mother, but guess who was it that raised the kid after all. Anyway, it's kind of nice to travel along someone from the Ebon Desert.
At the ship, along with the captain and the skipper (Yonas, a golden-eyed fellow from the north), I consulted the Godess for the plan of simply outrunning the pirate-ship under the cover of the moon. The omens, all woe.
We concluded that the pirate embargo is related to the nets. Maybe a huge net blocks entry/exit to the whole port. But not at the Yellow Stream, where the pirates are meeting.
Even though we lost some time planning, we quickly go to our posts.
Nightmares
27 February, 760 AoS
I awake in darkness. Ήμαρτον, Hayetta is the one consoling me.
As I try to roll myself out of this darkness, Parmise. She fills the whole room in radiant light... Gods the things that come out of her mouth!
She claims to be not my wife, and there in the sofa lays Arianrod, once more with child. Parmise's words are deceitfull like the serpents; she says she came back to life as a child of Mother, not of the Sun. How can these hopefull sweet lies be the truth?
Why hurt me so, with false promises? Were any of her promises real? All these years, she never loved me at all. Not me, not our daughter, not our unborn son!
I cannot let another foul word out of her mouth.
I jump onto her, she'd tied me up. Oh, I'm goint to strangle her with the same rope. Is this how she felt when she killed our Shiva?
Morning finally comes. It is not Hayetta, but Rozaria. Two days have past, Elsolis goes with my sword and his poisoned knife as settlement for the broken perfumes. Two days where my beheaded body was recovering, thanks to our Crimson Mother.
While I was out, Elsolis learned from Omar about Liberion, his revolt against his father and about the Children of the Scarlet King, said to be on a far off island pointed out on our map.
Later in the evening, we go with Rosaria for a walk to clear my head a little bit. We ended up at the beach. It was my first time getting in the sea above my knees, a nice feeling, floating.
Some well-dressed Suahin fellow accompanied by his wife greet us. He insisted to treat us to dinner, after seeing the similarities between my beheading at the arena and the patron saint of the city, Liberion. To me it is nothing more than a stupid coincidence, but any free meal in this hellish city is more than welcome.
I don't like this city. It's used so much lime, but even so it's impossible to completely cover the stench of the rotten blood that runs below.
We do dress up for the dinner, Rosaria and Elsolis even prepared a gift for our hosts. I wonder what it is.
The manor was built ina style that seemed foreign to me, but in this exotic city it fits still. Suahin was waiting for us at the table, het his beautiful wife was nowhere to be seen. As we started talking, he quickly set the subject back at that of "coinsidence". My companions seemed to agree with his view on providence, but I reluctuntly remained sceptical, albeit while trying not to offend our host.
And then the gift was revealed; a portrait, sent by Arianrod herself. She had it prepared before I had lost my head yet. It shows me, in the stance of the Headless patron of Chairavgi, Arianrod in the place of the woman and a little girl sitting with us.
For our host, it was as if his suspicions were confirmed. His body morphed in a demonic form. We fought back, but sweet Rosaria and me could not hold to the end. Elsolis lasted long enough for reinforcments to take notice; he used a bomb provided by Phoenix's alchemist friend to blow up the manor's basement, and draw attention to what was going on here. Not even this city likes a real demon in its walls.
Portrait of a Headless Man
24 February, 760 AoS
After a two-week, fairly uneventfull journey westward along with the Swarm, we finally arrive at Chaeravgi. The city seems to surrender willingly in front of an army this size, opening the gates for us to pass through.
The Crone paints the alabaster city walls red with the Goddesses' Symbol.
The city is bustling. A lot of people, a lot of commerce. A lot of them are very dark-skinned, probably they come from the southern seas. Some of them seem quite rich. I do not see any commoners, only slaves.
As we move around town, I catch a glimpse of a set of green eyes veiled in white fabrics that seemed somehow familiar. I let my instinct get the best of me and I follow her to the plaza. There she is, she is talking to a tall, dark-skinned man (is that a knife i see in his boot?).
As me and Rozaria enjoy our narghile at the plaza, we see the man pay the girl and head over to our table.
His name is Nasir, he is not from here. He is a merchant, of his sword. A sellsword, if you will. Witty type, easy to like. But maybe that is only the surface? He is coming from the south, but he has travelled all over the world. He does not believe that the Swarm could pass through the mountain. As he spoke of the Emperor of the West, Rosaria mentions that she knows him as "the Deceiver". He offered to give us notice before he sets sail, and he is also willing to sell his services. Noted.
We pass from the tent of a net-merchant. He offered us a quest of sorts; we can use four of his nets to bring to him four of the spiders that make them, alive. Then, his wife would teach me to mend them. That would be nice. I really dislike haggling.
Again I see the silouete of that woman, entering a building, I decide to lie under a palm tree, and wait for her in its shade.
Someone tried to steal something from my pouch. He does not seem like a petty little thief, so even if he didnt actually steal anything, I still gave chase. Alas, he was too fast, and I ended up falling down a merchant's table. Of course the wouman had the audacity to ask for my sword as compensation for her damaged wares, some perfumes. She even calls her husband, whom explains that this city is without law, headless "to each his own" to put it simply. He seems a bit lordly, he sais he came here to get away from his enemies. Well, I'll try to pay out their wares. We'll see how that goes.
Trying to get some gold, because everything in this town costs a fortune, we go with Elsolis to enroll ourselves in the Arena.
Atop its rankings stands an "Aegis". Elsolis wants the prize so that he can buy the Champion's brother's sword, Grima is his name. The two brothers are of the Burgadin people.
While me and Elsolis are getting ready for our fights, Rosaria goes on betting.
Elsolis loses his fight with a flamboyant witch named Phoenix. A fitting name for her fiery show. The fights here are a spectacle, she is very fitting to this occupation.
I won my match against a typical fighter, called the "Iron Crusher". He almost got my hand, I got his eye. A good fight.
After that it was me against Phoenix. We danced around for a bit, entertaining the croud, but the one in control of the arena was her after all. With her smoke screens, and her fly-by fire volleys she deserves her win.
While we were all tending our wounds at the apothecary after her victory against the bear-formed she-druid, Phoenix went on how she doesen't plan to take on the champion anyway because he is good at attracting people to the Arena, and that she doesen't wanna risk it after all. Another mystery to add to this city is the question of what an Aegis, an elite guard sworn to protect, is doing here away from his lord. Maybe he never swore the oath, maybe he guards something else, meybe he is an ex-Aegis. Who knows.
We enroll for the night round as well. The adrenaline from the afternoon hasn't worn off yet, and we need the money if we plan to stay for a few days in this money loving crazy city.
Elsolis got "Enigma", and I got the "Guts Eater". They say one leaves his opponents mentally broken, while the other kills them brutally... Anyway I cannot shy from danger, let's give them their show.
Heavenly Fire scolds the Grandchild
9 February, 760 AoS
We awake once more, with the honors befitting of Champions. I welcome the warm bath and the food, yet especially after last night's affairs, I have no intention of joining their orgies.
Arianrod summons again new Champions to retrieve the Chalice. The fool! She did not believe me that it was Mother's voice that I heard in the dungeon.
A pillar of flames! Fire fell from the sky to strike her. Oh, poor, foolish woman! Elsolis barely held me at my place, I almost jumped at her side. The Crone quickly emoved her burned body away from the crowd.
Heavens, may my eyes decieve me. There, in the crowd, Hayeta! Shabriri's heathan mockery was still ringing in my ears, after he fell into the abyss yesterday night. Now this.. Surely the demon residing in her crawled back up from the depths of that botomless pit.
Sweet Rosaria did not believe me. Nonetheless, I must not allow the abyss' whispers to bend me, come they fron within me or walk beside me.
We will move along with the forces of the Crimson Swarm, no point in traveling alone in the desert. It's not like on my own I have better chances off freeing humanity of its false gods.
Vessel of Life, Vessel of Death
8 February, 760 AoS, Night
Me and Rosaria Stand in front of the shut stone door.
It won't butge, yet there are two moving parts; the floating stone and the flame. The baptising flame, I am not touching it a second time withought any knowledge. The stone somehow seems the safer option. I climb atop the Goddess' stone arms, and touch it. My body acts like a catalyst, my mind is flooded by the image of the opened gate. Miraculusly I live, and the door opens wide.
The flame moves with us, illuminating the hall on her path. Inside, stands a tomb. The flame enters it, and a human-sised body rises from it. It resembles the Goddess, holding a Chalice.
Even though Rosaria refuses to openly attack her deity's vessel, I am bent on grasping the atrifact. I desperatelt try to shove it off her hand, in vain.
Rosaria, withought attacking keeps some sort of resistance, so she ends up catching Her attention after all. I see Rosaria;s heart beating outside of her chest, a crimson flame in Mother's arms.
Her Vessel warns us of the futility of one trying to change the course of fate. How, when she could not, could we? Her daughters must be wrong, she persists. Hearing this, I am beyond myself at this point. I am certain that this carcass is but a trial, and not Mother Herself. Yet I still canot win this trial, it seems.
Before Rosaria fell, she had provided passage for another Champion over the Abyssal Chasm. I do not know what he and the Vessel spoke of, because by the time he arrived, I had already fainted. I faintly heard him asking of the chalice peacfully, before it all went black.
What had remained of Mother brought me back to my senses, and breathed life back at sweet Rosaria.
What we had just faced, was the root of Undeath. The result of a neverending life force, meeting death. What remained of Maelvorna's body after her fight with Kalagrim, the fight that divided the desert, the people sealed it here in this complex built to sustain guards for years and years.
Yet the Goddess assures me, She does not give up. If you can not change the strings that tie our fates, you can try to burn them.
But even if I burn fiercer than the Sun Himself, I shall not burn indiscriminately.
On our ascend to the surface, the other champion introduced himself as Elsolis. The vast desert, how small it seems at times! He came to the wastes with my wife's peoples, along other Yuan-Ti that came from the southern seas. He knew of Parmise, he had actually attended our wedding. Peculiar are the moving specks of sand. Us, the last survivors of a Mission against the Crimson Goddess, now her Apostles.
We emerge out of the holy ruin under the deep blue veil of night, adorned with countess jewels now that the flames of the braziers surrounding the entrance have gone out. Arianrod was waiting outside.
By the Gods, she was "dissapointed". She must be kidding! How dare ths woman quastion my drive, she went so far as to call me a coward! All this because we did not retrieve the artifact. The foolish woman, let her do as she pleases. But why in the heavens she doesen't show me my son at last?
The seed of the Userper, that's why. Before I was reborn, it was still his flame that I bore.
The Userper was a father-killer it seems, he killed his father so that nothing could restrict his shining at the sky. Arianrod fears my son would try the same. I cannot fathom this, yet I cannot force her uneasinness away, nor beat the voice of reason in her.
The Womb of the Earth
8 February, 760 AoS, Day
The new day breaks with the cheers of the crowd already gathered at the excavation site's plaza. There are so many raising their hands, eager to be chosen as champions. Even Sabriri, evem though I am sure he does it for his own twisted goals.
Arianrod's eyes meet mine. Champion my ass. But. If Maelvorna seeks to prevent the end of the world, while the rest of the "gods" stand idly with crossed arms, I'll gladly walk the same path as Her. I raise my arm.
Of course sweet Rosaria, my pillar the last few days, raises her hand too. She has grown on me so fast. Like a little naughty sister. Sabriri, along with Hayeta, are chosen along with us for this mission. "For some reason the godess led us all here"
As part of our preparation for the task, the priestesses send another group of shapely bodies our way. But my mind's eyes see only one woman. She says he looks like me, that he is in good health.
I find her weaving with a group of other priestesses a banner, adroned with a chalice wrapped in crimson flames. Is this the thing which we are tasked to retrieve from the depths of the temple? I urge her to follow me, to come find me.
Waiting, I think about a lot of things.
Shaping the tooth of the skeleton that temporarily shielded us from the Roc into a dagger, I carve some words for the son I have yet to see. Said, the blissfull one shall be his name. "Never beg the Sun for mercy", she finds me as i finish etching these words, in the cuneiform language of my forefathers, before the script taught to us by the Valorans. Our reunion was sweet, unlike our first, violent time. Weird feelings, who makes the other one move, id o not know. I cannot think clearly.
And so we arrive as Champions, ready to retrieve the ancient artifact. Before we go, I give her the knife, my gift to my son. She says he will like it.
Entering, the dust of a thousand years past louds the air. A series of murals of this lands gids greet us, leading us to a hall where a sphinx tests us with a riddle. If it wasen't for all those that failed before us, I doubt we would have succeded in solving it.
Going deeper, we see some more of the history that was hinted in my dream-vision. Murals, Statues, depictions of some humanoid figures with plant-like appendiges (First-ones of Maelvorna?) along with another goddess, Valoretta, linked with fate, accompanied by smaller creatures.
Plants, mirrors, the light reflected in the correct pattern opens the way. Amidst a garden stands a statue of the two godessess. Valoretta has Maelvorna by her feet, while the latter holds a chalice showering them in clear water that flows below muddy anc clouded. Some sort of parable?
After a dark glass corridor, bound by a spell to repeat itself, we see another depiction of Maelvorna. Now, she is depicted emptiyng seawoter to the shore. A futile task, a nother cautionary tale perhaps.
Descending a spiral staircase, we see more depictions of Mother's past. No more marble, only ashes. Malirem, with yellow-frenzied eyes, holds seven daughters. In a last depiction, Maelvorna takes the children and a red stone from her sister. Whi is Malirem bound by seven chains, atom an abyssal creature?
At the end of the stairs stands a siege crossbow, next to a cliff. Sabriri kept listening abyssal whispers from the depths, something about the Whore and the Seven Children. It seems that it was too much, even for my deranged companion, as he started wailing.
At the other side, stands a door engraved with the figure of Maelvorna, holding a Stone with her flame on top of her. Sabriri did not want to ride on the Eagles Rosaria summoned for us, and shot the crossbow forming a chain of filthy intestines atop the chasm. Alas, he slipped. He finally became one with the abyss he had devoted his body and soul to. If he still had one, that is. He was more demon than human, not that I am one to judge.
The rest of us tried making the leap gliding with the eagles, yet Hayeta was also dragged into the darkness bleow. Where the poor girl's possessor belongs after all.
Selvira's Tree
7 February, 760 AoS
We wake up as the sun is rising. A sleppless night.
The city is gone, presumably as she was six months ago. Hidden, judging by the fact that Rosaria can still smell the lioness-lady.
Shabriri was not atop the hill with us, he was "meditating" is my guess at that creepy sea-wet cave under the cliff. He was going on about how something inside him changed.
While looking for a suitable place to wait out the harsh hours of midday, we spot a tree of gargantuan size. A sacred tree of Slelvira? Through the eyes of her owl, Rosaria spots some huge beasts roaming the base of the tree. We try to move sort-of past it.
Kinda expectedly, really, a Roc bolts towardss us from the thick filliage of the tree. The huge eagle-bodied creature grabs our horse on one claw, and Eleonora with Hayeta and Sabriri on the other. Always quick on her toes, Rosaria summons moles to dig us a makeshift shelter to wait out the beast's attack.
To my great dissapointment and discomfort, the orgies go on. We joined the tunnels in a larger burrough to wait until the sun lowers. That Sabriri, despite losing a leg, I keep on overhearing him and Rosaria, until I finally manage to fall asleep.
When the veil of night finally covers the overgrown tree and the diurnal animals have retrieted to their nests for the day, we move out. Gliding across the starry scy atop Rosaria's Giant Eagles, we reach Chaeranthos.
Mother's forces have reconquered the city. They seem to be digging for somthing. A war-related excavation?
Arianrod. A face that brings up so many mixed emotions. I wanted to hurt her as I was hurt, as If all that was inflicted upon me was her doing. Yet now she represents kindness, compassion, a comforting gaze than seems to penetrate my inner doubts, obliterating them.
She speaks of an item Mother buried here, in order to pevent the End of Everything.
She greets me as well, with an annunciation. A healthy boy. She really did gift me a son. Gods, let this stay outside your twisted games. May he grow up to be happier and healthier than his father. She says he is not yet here, so I cannot meet him yet. I wonder if he looks like me, even a little.
I also told her of my dream. Turns out the hut was here, she even took me to see it up close. She confirms that it was a vision of the time when Maelvorna's and Lumenor's clergies were united, ifollowing their deities union. She speculates that maybe it was shown to me because I stand like them, one offspring at one gods side, the other to the godess'.
Afterwards she leads us to the plaza created by the excavations, showing us the way leading to the underground temple. The Womb of the Earth, this place that seeks the Champions of Maelvorna.
We spend the night. So many thoughts clouding my head, but I am too tired. I fall in a black sleep.
Hecate
6 February, 760 AoS, Night
The sandstorms are milder near the sea. When it gets dark, the storm eases, and through the sand we see a village emerge atop the seaside cliffs.
The villagers were scared by Sabriri and Rosaria so I climbed alone at first, speaking with the people in Primordial. There seems to be some sort of festival going on, some sort of offerings for the lord of this hill. Her name is Hecate. I introduced myself, and brought gifts to the benefactor of this place,
Offering incense and flowers, we were all invited at a feast later that night. Hecaty asked us many things, about our moives, about the Gods. Even though she barely commented on my dream, she kept pressing me on how it was my wife the one at fault and not the Gods. This only provoked me further.
The place reeks faintly of the Abyss, yet the scent doesen't seek to come from the lioness-bodied lady. Rosaria found some minerals, maybe they have something to do with the "smell"? On another note, I think she can hide the city atop the hill, because half a year back when I passed through here with my men we certainly did not see it.
The feast enden in an orgy, in which Rosaria obviously took part in. Obviously I was not in the mood for this.
I saw Parmise at my dream. It was so alive..
I went out to get some air, to clear my head. Then I heard some screams of agony, something seemed off. I woke up Rosaria, who was laying at the remains of the orgy, and went to investigate. Hecaty found us first. She extended her invitation once more, but now even more certain than before, I declined. Who knows what torture awaits the poor bastards that are seduced by her, a look at her claws gives me the chills.
Back at the room, Rosaria felt the need to taunt me as well. She mentioned something about Hecate's smell though, and left a little annoyed. Unable to sleep again in this room, I went next door.
Heralds
6 February, 760 AoS, Day
When it was still dark, I wake up to a horrific sight. A man clad in an armor of wailing faces, riding next to a blind throat-slit woman atop a nightmarish camel. They claim that the Statue at the spiral sent them after my. Sabriri, Hayeta and Eleonora their names. Needless to say, I could not get any more sleep next to this creatue and its screams.
Come the morning, as in Hayeta's vision, an Anahera of Maelvorna came to us. Rosaria, she was guided by a crimson floating flame.
The winged girl led us back at the canyon. The scorpion-like creatures are friendly now, climbing playfully at her back. She hugs them as kin. Repulsive.
Piles of dead bodies bloom in flowers that dress our road in red rose petals. I bury an old briend, opened up like a husk probably while "birthing" some abomination, similar to a young tree. Sabriry the heretic on the other hand, with no respect for the living or the dead, a follower of Chaos, of Malirem, raised a skeleton.
We finally arrive at a coastal village, overgrown with mushrooms. The growth seemed to be people once. Some nomads came on a boat to scavenge the empty village for what little rescources there might be. I hesitated at first, clinging to my life before, claiming them as my brothers. Alas, they were soom maimed, burned to crisps, eaten. While attempting to bury them I discovered "human farms" consisting of the previous villagers.
A forkless road. I can go back to humanity, I will not succumb to the abyss either.
While resting at the village, I have a dream:
Two women at a big hut, an old midwife dressed in black habits and a young woman of shimmering fiery-red hair giving birth. The boy is white-skinned, with fiery hair and eyes of yellow.
Hayeta said that Lumenor was once Maelvorna's spouse, and their people's often had offspring togethrt. Is this what the dream was about?
Visitors
5 February, 760 AoS
I wake up alone.
I am alone.
With nothing to guide me I head toward the sea, while catching a glimpse of the Red Woman along with a Procession of the Horde marching from Iressos to the canyon. She smiles at me. Pity, pity for her, for me, for everyone under this accursed sky.
As the night falls, apart from the pillar of Ear, I spot another flame at the horizon.
The flame's name; Ilesh Ahtar, an angel of Maelvorna. There were more like them at the Procession, along with the non-human creatures. She gave me water, and words of wisdom.
We spoke of gods, angels and demons, of life death and mortality. Of the inevitable end that the Whore seemingly seeks to prevent.
Under warm wings, I fall asleep, more peacfully than I could imagine so in years.
The Desert's Odyssey, Part 2
4 February, 760 AoS, Night
Tired, hungry and thirsty we keep walking into the desert. The cousins, coming from an old family of clerics of the Sun, start to believe that this is our punishment for turning away from the truth and worshipping the Lord of Light, the Sun Throne's Userper.
At a crossroads, it seemed to me as if Maelvorna herself descended from her lustfull heavens and visited us. A red haired woman clad in red robes, her skin almost illuminating the night around us, riding a horse in the near distance. She spoke of an oasis, after saving Aziz and Sarbel from the fate that awaited them had those eggs hatched.
My companions do not wish to go to that oasis, they insist the path to redemption and therefore to our salvation is through the scortching rays of the desert sun, the true Sun, our protector. Have they gone mad? We started fighting with Aziz, and they ended gagging me and tying me up on our horse. I keep hearing her voice, "Come find me in the Oasis..."
In a delirius state, I heard the abyss' calling.. A spiral, leading to a sinister statue as old as the sands of time itself. The cousins seem to have gone completely mad! Is it the forked tongues of the abyss that drove them mad, or has the sun finally scorthed any humanity left in them?? Oh fate's elaborate exhibition of cruelty. My brother, they sacrificed him, they bled him dry at an empty well, claiming that this would please their Sun. I could not do anything, again. Weak, tied up, frenzied, I could only watch. The evilest of miracles, Sirhan's blood came back up as clear water, filling up a bucket of delicious water, that as it was shoved at my thoat, so it exited in repulsion.
So we move. A temple of another cruel nameless faceless god, preying at our weakness. The face that greeted us was none other that that of Sirhan! The being killed my brother's killers, and threw me out at the desert.
Groveling, I arrived at the feet of the Crimson Whore. She dragged me all the way to the oasis. There, I was born once more.
Oh Crimson Whore,
Baptist of accursed flame,
Grant me your abhorrent strength
To fall the false Gods.
You stole everything from me,
So now feed
my fire of vengeance.
God's love is but a fetish,
Even the evergiving Sun, a taker.
Now it is their turn
For the Gods will fall one by one,
And in your own hellfire
We will both meet our end.
Parmise, Shiva, Father, Mother, unborn child,
Guide my blade.
Desert's Odyssey, Part 1
4 February, 760 AoS, Day
Moving along with the few remaining survivors we are searching for a village that, even deep in the Crimson Wastes, would not be crazed fanatics at least. That way maybe our people can rest and recover, because crossing the desert like this seems impossible. We split our search in two groups, to raise our chances.
While traversing the canyon, the Whore's aberrant children ambushed us. Crimson in color, clad in exoskeleton and with a flame that keeps healing their injuries, they keep attacking us from the canyon;s crevices. The sick bastards, they try to get you with their stinger so that they lay the Whore's egg in you. Of course when it hatches you're done for. They seem to be kind of intelligent, one of them is greenish in color and wields a scepter.
My brother returned in the midst of this along with Sarbel, with news of the village. No sanctuary there after all. At the edge of the canyon I see a faction of the Swarm approaching, maybe we were spotted when scouting the village.
We escaped the opposite way. The insects burned to ashes our men, only the four of us got away but not unscathed. The cousins were stung with the eggs. Too scared to seek a cave in this den of monsters, we enter the desert.
Pestilence Under the Sun
3 February, 760 AoS
The city of Iressos, our furthest beacon into the Crimson Wastes, has been reclaimed by the Swarm.
When our men first arrived, some of them already had high fever, some where even delirious. In case these were symtoms of a sunstroke from our long journey, we knew what to do. I took 9 men with me, three of them warriors I have trusted with my life many times before, to forage near the next settlement.
When we returned, a tragic sight awaited us. Only 30 survivors, in a horrified state. The Crimson Whores, damn them! It was a massacre. Those who survived are in shock, in fear of flame, and keep mindlessly scratching some invisible itch until they bleed.
Every time I see the flaming pillar of Ear, i feel sick. It's been blazing for about a month now.
The Sack of Gadara
August 759 AoS
Everyone is dead. Parmise, Shiva, Father, Mother, our unborn son. We weren't there. We weren't there. Gadara was razed to the ground. The women, the children, everyone. With Sirhan we are still searching for survivors in the outskirts. To hell with the Whore, to hell with the Sun. If only they could feel their own judgement fall upon them.
Year 748 AoS
748 AoS
With the proper military ranks of the Mission, for the first time we are really advancing against the terrors of the Crimson Whore. We have a lot to learn. The missionaries are sharing their knowledge not only with adults, but also our children. Even if they do it in the name of Lumenor. There are voices that say that we have turned our faces away from the Sun, but our victories seem to demonstrate otherwise.
In the 9th day of the 11th month Parmise gave birth to a healthy daughter.
Who knows, with the Sun's blessings, maybe next year we will be claiming victories at the other riverbank of the Karmanassa.
Year 747AoS
747 AoS
As of this winter, I am the eldest son of our father. I begin my training in the mystic arts, normal military knowlege aside. I hope I dont have to become a hermit fot this.
In early spring, a convoy of Missionaries from beyond the shores pass through our lands. They are from the line of Aibna-al-Shamsi. They too, worship the Sun. Albeit they give it a different name, and a humanoid visage; they call him Lumenor. More important than the differences in our faiths is our common enemy, the Crimson Swarm.
After fifteen summer solstices, I go through my rite of passage. My reward, the Eyes of the Eagle.
An even greater gift proved to be my union with Parmise, an Arch-Priestess of the mission. Our marriege was announced by my father as a political move to signify the support of our tribe to the mission and vice versa, but I am happy to say it seems to grow into something more.
Parmise is also looking for her uncle, Daiba, who seems to be the same sage that sparked the development of our arcane arsenal.
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