Rasataalian Adventure No.1: Kabal of the Ashuvrahqt'Aild

On a Certain Day, Under a Certain Sign

 

Twin crescent moons fell before the country of Rasataal’s sprawling landscape, gently embraced by shimmering spring rains. An elven wayfarer, foreign to this land, wandered the night aimlessly seeking a sage he had seen only in dreams: an eyeless visage beckoning him with destiny. The world opened up as he stepped foot onto the prairie where the small settlement of Fallen Star resided. A grand jewel of flaming iridescence held in stasis above the settlement, appearing as if ready to crash into the world below, contended with the surrounding darkness and revealed the elve his destination. As he arrived, anxious and unaware of the nature of the trial that lay before him, destiny stood waiting at the edge of Fallen Star.

An old elven woman with eyes shrouded by a veil spoke out “Who are you, who’ve answered my summons?”

His head held high, he stepped forth with confidence. “I am Amri.”

Peer Through The Sage’s Eyeless Sockets

The elder sage beckoned Amri to enter the settlement. “My name is Talin. Please come, there’s much I need to show you.” she said calmly, yet as she moved, there was a sense of urgency in her step. As he followed her, the world around him danced, sang songs, recanted tales, and drank with vigor despite the soft, showering rain. He smiled at how lively the people of Fallen Star were, and felt this was a place to return to once his task was finished. They both arrived at a modest yurt at the edge of the settlement. Its walls are painted to resemble whisp-like clouds with stars above them. Talin pulled aside a curtain of skins and beads, and Amri made his way within. He sat around a lit fire and observed his surroundings; bones and dried plants hung from the walls. On a table to his side laid a cracked orb of crystal next to a wooden staff that leaned against the wall, and a wooden chest to the opposite end of the room to him.

Talin stood alongside the fire, her head raised to the sky.

“There isn’t an easy way to ask you of this,” she said, “but every single one of those people out there are going to die unless you help us, Amri.”

His heart sank “What...what do you mean?” he anxiously replied “What’s going to happen to them?”

“The giant glowing orb in the center of our settlement is just as the name implies; a shard of a fallen star, caught in stasis by some of the most powerful magic users of the land, and held above us by their sheer will alone. There are those who wish destruction upon Rasataal, and if the star were to fall, the effects would be catastrophic to the land. I’ve seen it written in the night sky, Amri. You are the only one fated to save Fallen Star. To save all of Rasataal! I beg of you, please help us!”

Amri inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. He exhaled his anxieties, recomposing himself.

“But why me?” he asked, “I’m a street urchin in foreign lands, with novice skills in combat and sorcery. Why would you trust me?”

She smiled “Neither birth, nor border separates us. We’re all intertwined in fate, and it’s time you saw yours.”

She lifted the veil covering her eyes, and Amri leaned in to see that her sockets were empty. Immediately she grabbed his face and pressed hers against it, forcing him to stare into the empty sockets. The young elve gazed into the darkness, and what was revealed to him, in an opalescent radiance, was the journey he must undertake; the threat he alone must vanquish.

“This is the Ashuvrahqt’Aild. Worshippers of Eaba’a, Arch-Corruption of defiled magick; The Divine End. Their motives are unknown, but they wish to bring destruction upon this realm. By any means you must stop them.” and with a flip of her finger, she magically opened the chest. Residing within was a simple lamellar mail, a coif attached to a conical helm, and a blade that knew many battles.

“Go now, with haste!” exclaimed Talin.

Amri stepped out of the yurt, now fully equipped for his mission. As he looked to the people, deeply entranced by their festivities, the wrenching burden struck him deeply, for the lives of all those around him now weighed upon his shoulders.

He ran into the forests to face his destiny.

Glades Betwixt Sleep and Wake

An hour had passed as Amri wandered the night. In Talin's vision, he saw he needed only to pass through this forest reaching into a clearing by a cliffside edge. There would be a tower facing one of the Leyline Spires. His heart began to race with each passing tree, as the feeling of being watched began to overwhelm him. Whispers began to swell between the trees, growing louder before it was all he could hear.

Then the forests grew silent.

Suddenly the sound of a dying animal screeched behind him, causing him to react and face his opposite direction, but nothing was there. Slowly, he stepped facing forward only to immediately. His legs felt separate from body, and his eyes would begin to fade and dim with each step. Gasping for air, his lungs felt as though they were erupting from his chest. Slower, and slower his movements were until he reached a halt. The rain showers sprinkled into his eyes, and in almost a calming daze he fell back, letting each droplet blind him. Bright eyes hiding within the trees laughed away at this poor fool’s misery.

White noise rang out the world around Amri, though the sound of tiny laughter cut clear through his ears and grew closer to him. From the corner of his eyes, three diminutive, bat-like beings crawled forth to the dazed elve. They each held a small branch in their hands with berries that oozed a murky puss.

They looked to each other, chittering and gesturing towards his eyes and armor.

Suddenly a rock flung through the air, striking one of the creatures to the ground. Then another, and one more till all three lay, twitching and groaning. Stumbling to pick themselves off the ground, they flew away.

A voice called out to Amri “Are you okay, boy?”

Still struggling to move, he turned over slowly to see an elderly elven man putting a sling in a pouch to his side. He reached his hand out towards the man.

“I’m not a boy,” Amri exclaimed as he was being lifted off the ground, “I’m a warrior!”

The elder smiled, “Well whatever you are, be careful for pixies out here. They usually don’t mean any harm, not like those ones out by Kha’tir. No, these little mites just like to steal stuff off travelers.”

The man pulls from his pouch a small skin of water and hands it to Amri.

“You seem to be lost, child?” he asks.

Amri takes a big sip before replying. “I’m not lost, sir. My path is perfectly clear to me, only I’m afraid I may not succeed in my pilgrimage. A lot of people are counting on me.”

“Ah! Well, in my youth, the wise women of my tribe would often tell stories of those willing to own their fear, and push forward to do what they knew was right. They, like you my friend, would be blessed by the Ancients on their task.”

Amri looked down to his trembling hands.

The elder put his hand on Amri’s shoulder “Why don’t I lead you to the edge of the forest, and I’ll wait for when you complete your task to lead you back to your people, little one.”

Amri clenched his hands into fists. Feeling the fires of passion burn deeply within him, he nodded, and they continued forth. Eventually they’d reach their destination: the tower at the edge of the sea.

Amri turned to the elder “What may I call you?” he asked, “I want to express my gratitude for the kind words and company.”

The man sat on the grass, staring to the sea. “I’m a humble servant of Zaróvi, but a follower of all the Ancients. You may call me Dhajyim.”

Amri nods to Dhajyim, and rushes towards the tower.

“May your blade be guided by Kahjazrael’s spirit tonight!” Dhajyim exclaims.

Halls Scarred by Defiled Magicka

Standing at the entrance were two cultists dressed in tattered, black robes. As he neared them, they drew their weapons, one immediately rushing towards him. Amri stepped back, parrying his enemy before unleashing a bolt of flame into the cultists face, dropping him to the floor. The other cultist stood there, now trembling in fear as Amri walked towards him. The burning passion within Amri invigorated him, as he jolted forward and thwacked the other cultist unconscious with the pommel of his sword.

As Amri stormed through the stone archway into the spire, a stinging chill crept into his heart. This place, these walls, everything seemed so unnatural. He couldn’t rationalize it within himself, but he felt the unspeakable deeds committed within these halls. The chill whispered screams of terror within Amri, and he knew he had to tread lightly if he were to survive this evening. Amri spiraled around the corridors, slashing and incinerating any foe that stood before him, but the deeper he traversed through the spire, the colder he grew. Eventually he found himself at a large chamber door, and it was at this point he began shivering uncontrollably. Whatever abominations lie beyond that door was the root of this defiled magick. A wave of anxiety swept over him as he neared his hand towards the door. He inhaled deeply, and exhaled the dread he felt within.

Amri cracked the door slowly and opened up a pitch-black void before him. He cast a small flame and held it in the palm of his hand, lighting the space around him as he made his way into the chamber. He took a few steps forward before hearing an unsettling chittering deep within the room.

“Whatever foul creatures reside in this chamber, make yourselves known!” he called out.

There was a moment of absolute silence, then suddenly a circle of braziers ignited revealing to Amri a horrific being coiled around one of the many large pillars inside the chamber. Its body was that of a centipede with the upper torso of what once seemed like an elve, and dressed in a similar cultist’s robe. Its hideously mutated face drew close to Amri’s, letting out a nightmarish grin that drooled a black ooze from its sharply disfigured teeth.

“Well you’re truly an exceptional nuisance, aren’t you?” the beast said, “Do you know who you’re in the presence of, little morsel?”

It was at this moment, Amri knew this creature was the leader of the Ashuvrahqt’Aild.

“You’re all servants of Eaba’a, and seek to destroy Fallen Star. I cannot allow you to proceed!” Amri replied, holding his blade to the leader’s neck.

The creature retreated its head slightly “I am no mere servant.” it replied, “I am Qar’rallas ‘Yjurr, herald of Eaba’a, the Divine End! You shall die where you stand, maggot!”

Qar’rallas held its hands high, conjuring a misty bead of spiraling black and tossed it at Amri, completely knocking him cold and lifeless to the floor.

Hymns of Eaba’a, The Unsatiated Corruption

Amri awoke in a field of stars and blackness. He tried to squirm, but not a single muscle moved. He tried to breathe, but inhaled nothing. He tried to scream, but could not muster even so much as a whimper.

“What is this? Did I die?” he pondered to himself.

He tried to move his eyes, but they remained stationary, fixed on some flowing wisp that seemed so far from him. As he tried to make sense of what he was seeing, it began to move in a bizarre fashion. It was alive…

...it then turned towards Amri.

The wisp looked reminiscent to a long cloak, simply floating in the winds of this place. It sprouted four spindly arms from its sides, releasing the same mist of black that brought Amri here. The hands were separated at the wrist, with mirroring thumbs on each palm. They gestured forth, seeming as if they were reaching out towards Amri. He looked up to see this unknown being’s face, but all he could make out were three, radiant spines adorned with crescent moons at each end floating above its head.

Its eyes opened. Two soulless, gleaming gems gazed at the Amri, now overwhelmed with fear. Trailing its black mist in its wake, it drew closer to the elve, revealing just how titanic it truly was.

“It’s larger than a tower...than mountains even. This thing could devour cities and oceans whole!” he thought to himself, now awestruck with a debilitating hopelessness.

Slowly, it held two of its hands below Amri, cradling him in a new continent, and shielding him with new skies as it held its other two above him, though there was still space to see its terrifying face between. There was absolute darkness, and in this darkness, Amri heard a low, rumbling sound. It was the creature speaking to him; its utterance felt as if mountains were trembling, oceans were cracking and stars were colliding. The entire fabric of reality shook, yet despite not being in common tongue, Amri understood as it spoke.

The creature only said one thing.

“Weak.”

Coursing through its hands were currents that channeled a warping energy. It began pulling from Amri, lifelessly floating there. He started losing consciousness, feeling the fires within him now fleeting.

“Am I dying?” he thought, “Have I failed? This...this can’t be how it ends...can it?”

In the midst of everything, Amri felt peaceful and closed his eyes.

“No.” he whispered, “Not yet. Not like this. I can’t fall here.”

His eyes opened wide, screaming at the top of his lungs. Amri lifted his hands towards the being and ignited a torrent of fire at the titan. The being released its grasp, letting loose another wail that shook the universe around Amri.

Suddenly, he woke up.

A Debate of Spell and Blade

Amri screamed, feeling the burning sensation of life rush back into him. Adrenaline coursing through his veins into his fingertips, he leapt off the ground to see Qar’rallas in the same place it was, as if time had stood still.

“Well...that’s not quite the effect I was expecting…” Qar’rallas remarked, staring at its hands.

Amri faced his enemy, gasping rapidly “What...was that...that thing you showed me?” he exclaimed.

“What thing…” Qar’rallas questioned, then pausing for a moment before its eyes widened, “You saw them...didn’t you, elve? You saw the Divine End! My master, Eaba’a revealed themself to you!” Qar’rallas laughed hysterically “In over two-hundred years, not once have I made contact with my master, but you...a pitiful rodent, stood before such an absolute perfect being? Not only shall I turn your flesh to ash, I will devour your eternal soul, and once I send you to oblivion, the mystics of Fallen Star will perish by my hands, and I shall offer Rasataal as a sacrifice to Eaba’a!”

Qar’rallas swirled and gestured its hands, reciting a horrific incantation in a speech that sent shivers down Amri’s spine. In its hands, a ring of small black beads materialized and shot out towards Amri. He strafed to the side, causing all to miss, but the final bead which impaled into his lower back. He fell over, and screamed in pain.

At this moment, another two cultists entered the room, drawing their blades and cornering Amri against a wall.

The young elve was not without fangs, and spread his fingers to the ground towards their feet, unleashing a blanket of fire, which set one of the cultists ablaze. The other nearly managed to dodge out of the way, but this brief moment gave Amri the chance to make his way further away from his foes. Qar’rallas raised its hands upwards again, tossing another large bead at Amri, but he rolled out of the way, causing the spell to shatter one of the pillars which fell over and smacked into another. Fragments of the roof began to fall to the ground as the battle grew more tense. Amri was caught between Qar’rallas and the cultist, but armed with spell in one hand and blade in the other, he fended off their attacks. It was at this moment Amri began to grow weary once again.

“I can’t ward off their attacks forever” he thought to himself, “Qar’rallas isn’t relenting and I can’t seem to get a favorable shot at it.”

The cultist struck down at Amri, and as he tried to repel the attack, the sheer force broke Amri’s blade, allowing the cultist’s attack to slice into his chest.

Amri was downed. His wound was deep.

Qar’rallas and the cultist stepped towards Amri as he tried to crawl back. Like an animal caught in a trap, Amri began to hyperventilate. The thought of all the lives he couldn’t save rushed into his mind, drowning out the world around him. He closed his eyes, and the only thing that came to his mind was Talin’s voice.

“Please help us…”

He felt his wound, the blood staining his hand now clenched into a fist. Amri shouted at them “Stay back!” his fist now ignited in fire, “I SAID STAY BACK!”

The world went silent as threw his hands forth, and cascading from his palms was the same torrent he manifested against Eaba’a. The fires squealed and hissed as they raced towards Qar’rallas and the cultist, engulfing the entire room in its magnificence. The force tore apart the other pillars.

Amri sat there in a room now drowned in the flames of his passion as the roof began to collapse. Yet, despite the destruction, Amri felt absolute peace. His mission was complete, and the people of Rasataal were delivered from their doom. He wasn’t afraid to perish here.

He smiled and closed his eyes.

Wealth Beyond Measure

The sun rose, wavering the darkness and the rain. The spire illuminated as rubble fell into the sea, and warmth blanketed the ruins. Beneath some burnt, fallen stone, a young elve lied there sleeping peacefully until the bright warmth reached its way to him. Amri opened his eyes, gazing at the majesty of the sun, shining its glorious rays into the sea. Lifting himself to his knees and letting out a single tear at its beauty. At this moment, Amri truly understood his purpose. Though his legs felt weak, he stood up and made his way back to Fallen Star.

Artwork by Tatiana Tate

https://instagram.com/tatiktate?igshid=19xaoryflkyl9