Vasara The Dark Side
35ᵗʰ of Iviht, 1964 AL (After Lightfall)
Adventure had always fascinated you. Storybooks from your homeland contained tales of a once-powerful god-king from a far off, now desecrated land; an entity with a will to rival the Architects. Such power—lost and fabled as it may have been—called to you, made your blood boil with curiosity, your fingers quiver with excitement. And so, you gathered enough to fund a small expedition to this distant land, one blanketed in murky darkness.
What the stories did not prepare you for, however, was how perilous such a journey could be. Your ship veered wide, off course in the inky black, the sloshing of umbral waters against the hull the only sound other than stamping feet and calls from the mast. Beneath lanterns lit, one by one, rotten hands emerged, grasping tight to the taffrail in the night. And one by one, your crew was slaughtered by Those That Walk Beneath, Silhouettes damned to forever dredge the sea floors of Vasara.
With a heavy slash to your gut, the monster was satisfied with your fate as your limp body flopped limp against the deck. Your vision faded to black as your heard a massive book's cover shut in your ears. A comforting hand grasped your shoulder and everything went dark. The next time your eyelids fluttered open, you were staring up at twinkling stars. Looking around, you seemed to be on a boardwalk of an unfamiliar pier next to a homely cottage; a single candlelight danced within.
***
Adventure had always fascinated you. Storybooks from your homeland contained tales of a once-powerful god-king from a far off, now desecrated land; an entity with a will to rival the Architects. Such power—lost and fabled as it may have been—called to you, made your blood boil with curiosity, your fingers quiver with excitement. And so, you gathered enough to fund a small expedition to this distant land, one blanketed in murky darkness.
What the stories did not prepare you for, however, was how perilous such a journey could be. Your ship veered wide, off course in the inky black, the sloshing of umbral waters against the hull the only sound other than stamping feet and calls from the mast. Beneath lanterns lit, one by one, rotten hands emerged, grasping tight to the taffrail in the night. And one by one, your crew was slaughtered by Those That Walk Beneath, Silhouettes damned to forever dredge the sea floors of Vasara.
With a heavy slash to your gut, the monster was satisfied with your fate as your limp body flopped limp against the deck. Your vision faded to black as your heard a massive book's cover shut in your ears. A comforting hand grasped your shoulder and everything went dark. The next time your eyelids fluttered open, you were staring up at twinkling stars. Looking around, you seemed to be on a boardwalk of an unfamiliar pier next to a homely cottage; a single candlelight danced within.
Vasara has 26 Duskwalkers
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Additionally, all art featured in works credited to World Smithy is created using Midjourney AI unless otherwise credited.