Vil'Ashri's Plea to Eresh
The scene before you changes. The moss is thicker and fuller, with a greater variety of hues. The vines spread further with mushrooms growing across their length. The skeletons are gone, but you see the large shadows of Kel’Nok swimming within the blackened water. The draconic skeleton is also absent. Beneath the twisted, half rotted tree is a broken, moss-covered throne. Upon it sits a gaunt woman with hair dark as night and form covered by moss, lichen and fungus. Her fingers are flexed, emphasizing her bony knuckles as her sharpened fingers dig into the rotted armrests. Beneath the cascade of hair, you see her half-rotted face… and the cracks that have begun to cover her skin.
Vil’Ashri stands on the large island of moss before Eresh’s throne. Slowly, as if trying to avoid spooking a wild animal, Vil’Ashri releases the decapitated head from her belt, cradling it gently as she drops to her knees.
Shadowed One Below. Your kin have perished to fuel a war fought far from your lands. My kin, my own daughter, has now perished to recover this… that which you seek. I offer it to you, Rot Bringer. In exchange, I implore you- I beg you… revoke your gift. Revoke that which you gave the Abyssal Lord. Let this war end.
Eresh remains still atop her rotted throne. A single vine uncoils from a half-dead branch to wind slowly towards Vil’Ashri. It wraps and cradles the silver-haired head before bringing it back to Eresh’s hands. The goddess of rot brushes a piece of long silver hair away from the face as she stares down at it. The silence hangs heavy.
A hollow skull. A haunting memory. Even in death, he remains untarnished... beautiful. Did you think this is what I wanted? To be reminded of what I LOST? To be reminded of what your father took from me?!
Eresh stands as she hurls the head at Vil’Ashri who barely manages to catch it.
Where is Hadúr's soul? He PROMISED ME. Should ever he fall... his soul was to be mine. No. I will NOT revoke that which was RIGHTFULLY given. I will not STOP what was rightfully DESERVED. So long as Hyperion has Hadúr's soul, your mother will ROT. Leave. Now.
Hyperion does not HAVE Hadúr's soul! And even still, he was but ONE soul. Thousands are dying. Thousands are tortured. Your people are dying. You must stop this, Eresh. YOU MUST.
Eresh freezes. A crack forms on Eresh's arm, glowing a sickly, putrid green.
I must? My shackles... are broken. You... do not command me.
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