“At first they were rumors, nothing more than superstition and overblown worries. Perhaps a bandit lord or two got crafty, who knows. Then came the flood of refugees; peasants, nobles, knights, soldiers, deserters, farmers, and more. All came streaming from the border with wild eyed accounts of horrors sweeping in from the western plains or the northern coasts or of monsters rising up in the middle of southern towns whilst the cowardly eastern lords hid. Still, we doubted. Now, the southern passes connecting our realm and the rest of the world has been sealed, we are alone. Only when we were alone, did I realize the severity of the calamity at hand. My lands, my subjects, my people were bathed in their own blood, the pristine snow stained red by the crimson of heroes. Beyond them, a horde now stands at my gates. A horde of monsters beyond imaging staring greedily at the fresh morsels now trapped within the city. It is now up to me to keep these people safe for as long as I can, though the outlying farms have all been razed by the devils beyond. I suppose this is fitting punishment for my hubris and my pride. May the Dragon Lord forgive my errors and may the people too.
If you see this letter, then fortunately, at least the last detachment was able to flee the city. I have instructed them to hand themselves over to your capable Marshal Jan's hands. May they serve you well. Be prepared, my friend. For old times sake, heed my warning and may you forgive me as well for placing the burden of the world upon your shoulder. I… ”
- Grand Prince Alexander Mestays of Medvarin, Letter on desk of King Wulfgar of Volksgrad
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Sophie scowled at the eyes in the shadows, daring them to attack. She partially unsheathed her sword and angled it to allow the moonlight to dance off the blade. Seeing steel seemed to unnerve whatever creature just enough that it quickly bounded away, leaving behind only the rustling of leaves in its wake. Whatever animal it was, Sophie was just glad it had fled.
The caravan stopped for the night outside the small seaside hamlet of Lorretolla, named after some reef or another off the coast. All the students and caravaners then started setting up camp for the night. Taking advantage of the moment, Sophie had used her map and her surroundings to triangulate her location with that of the purported ruin location. The caravan had been thankfully equipped with both sturdy and fast horses, meaning that they had set an astonishing pace once they rode past the city limits and into the countryside. It also meant that now, she was close enough to her goal that with a few hours of determined trekking through admittedly questionable terrain, she could make it. Though it was a gamble, it didn’t seem too far away and she was relatively certain that she could get there before the caravan packed up the next morning. That would then give her a few hours to rummage around the ruins on her lonesome before having to head back to Arteria, turning what was potentially a four day trip to one and a half days if she was efficient.
So when the moon hung high over the sky closing in on midnight, she had snuck away from the caravan for a rapid trek towards the borders and ruins. It hadn’t been nearly as arduous as her treks through Melton or the Mistveil. The city’s control spread far and wide, that included the maintenance of most roads up until she neared Highwall once again. Past the road where carriages and caravans often took was an expansive woodland that while not dense like a forest, still felt about as formidable as stepping into the Mistveil. The main highways connecting Arteria to Melton and Absenstadt barely penetrated the treeline, only occasionally dipping into it as the roads winded around the treeline. It meant a tougher walk ahead but she didn’t mind, she could almost feel the presence of the ruin and the arcane mana that leaked from it. On the right track, at least.
She pushed past another small thicket and grimaced as some light thorns grazed her exposed arms. Wish I had my armour, damn tunic so bloody thin. Making sure her pack was still secured, she pressed onwards, a little more exhausted than when she had begun. Keeping a low profile, she kept her eye out for any more unwelcome visitors, still thankful that she appeared relatively unappetising towards the common animal.
Another hour of hard trekking later, the moon was already looking down upon her at an angle, the light shining a pathway through the brush. Taking a few moments to look at her map, she hurriedly huddled up to herself and rummaged through her pack. She pulled out a palm sized packet of rations and pulled out the dried fruit and jerky. It was a thoroughly depressing meal compared to the lunch with the others, but it would sustain her and that was enough. Gobbling up the stray nuts she had packed, she wiped herself down and took one last look at her surroundings.
Soft rustling could still be heard all around her and the ominous clattering of branches elsewhere in the woods unnerved her. Whatever she was, she was still an invader in the woodlands and in unfamiliar terrain. Swinging her blade around just to relax herself, she packed everything back up and sighed. Committed now, might as well keep pushing forward. Sheathing her blade, she broke out into a brisk jog, wincing every time she accidentally stumbled into brambles and thorns.
Passing another patch of heavy foliage she gasped out loud when her left leg missed the ground and she slid down a steep incline. Rocks, dirt, grass and some poor creature tumbled down after her. Caught off guard, she barely had time to recover when the small critter screeched in fear as it slammed into her, sending the both of them to the ground. Surprised, annoyed and disappointed in equal measure, she didn’t even check what it was that had felled her before she grabbed it and chucked it aside. The creature barely having time to let out a surprised yelp as it was thrown into a nearby bush. Stars damn it all. She double checked to make certain that her pack was secured and nothing was lost on the fall. Satisfied, she hummed to herself and continued pressing forward, taking a few moments of reorientate herself.
Eventually she reached a clearing and cut through the last of the underbrush, stepping out into a barely maintained structure barely jutting out of the mountain. Walls camouflage by the overgrowth making it look as if it was part of the woodland; stones all cracked and decayed from the passage of time. A sense of foreboding snuck its way within her heart when she gazed at it. The old decrepit looking entryway looked less like a majestic entrance and more like the maw of a demon ready to swallow her whole. Surrounding it were scaffolds and tents; the beginnings of a working excavation camp. Looking at the roughly circled area on the map, she hoped that she was in the right place.
There were three key assumptions that she was working with for when she arrived at the ruins. That the ruins were discovered and mostly cleared by pathfinders and adventurers; that within it lay Myndiri artifacts not to be moved until a proper examination is done; and that she had some wiggle room but not a lot in avoiding detection, less so now that the Dragon Wagon were in the picture. What these assumptions meant was that the scene before her eyes had both good news and bad. The good was that based on the large wooden carts and storage areas being prepared in the camp, the ruins had already been combed over once; and that there were artifacts waiting to be transported within. Which means being able to get my hands on them. The bad news was a bit less positive, there was no one in sight. No guards, no sentries, no workers, no guilders or even mercenaries. In fact, the place was pretty much deserted.
Instinctually, she pulled her sword back out of her pack and attached the sheathe to her belt whilst pulling the weapon out and brandishing it. She had a bad feeling about the empty camp and her muscles tensed at the reminder, the same feeling she had back when she woke up in the Eichafen excavation site. Perhaps there was a great find and everyone scrambled inside, or perhaps they all collectively didn’t get their pay and left. Somehow she doubted either option and steeled herself for the worst. Well… at least it's not raining and there aren’t any zombies or undead… yet.
Circling the perimeter twice to ensure there weren’t any stragglers hiding and waiting to ambush her. She walked into the camp and quickly investigated what she could. Judging by the neatly ordered stack of bowls beside a cauldron, which itself was filled with burnt foods and the evaporated remnants of stew, whatever happened occurred just before mealtime. When she examined the rest of camp she deduced that they weren’t likely attacked from the woodlands. There were no signs of external damage to the tents or camps, no signs of intrusion or forced attacks within the camp grounds. So not bandits at least. She sighed with relief.
Her relief was short lived however, and she soon found evidence of a chaotic muster past the main living quarters. Weapon racks knocked over, tools scattered from their little cupboards and shelves, it wasn’t a good look. It meant something from inside had caused the general panic, and whatever lurked in the depths of an old decrepit Myndiri ruin was definitely more trouble than she could handle. That didn’t explain the missing workers or support staff though, even in an emergency there should’ve been a skeleton crew left up here consisting of non combatants or even just guards. So where the hells were they?
Sophie muttered a soft apology as she ducked inside to check the tents, finding more signs of a hasty exit, but that nothing was in complete disarray. Something’s very wrong here. She awkwardly rummaged through the tents until she found someone’s leftover leather chestpiece. Though sleeveless and not exactly good quality, she slipped it on nonetheless, some protection was better than none at all. The unfamiliar armor felt strange on her body, the bindings a little too loose and somewhat oversized, but it had to do.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
A dull scream pierced the night and she hurried out to follow the sound. Straining her ears only to find that they emanated from within the ruin. Her shoulders sagged in disappointment and she kicked the ground in annoyance. Play it safe, maybe. Stay out here, or wait a while until whatever it is comes out. Maybe don’t even bother, I’m recovering enough just being out here. She scowled at herself. That much was true though, the apparition’s theory had proven correct and Sophie had indeed felt a strange reinvigoration of her entire being the moment they left Arteria’s protective wards. It was a jolt of energy unlike anything she had felt before and she felt a little more alive. Though the feeling was only temporary and the lackluster follow up meant that what little void energy was present within her was still critically low. But I am feeling better, so maybe just camp somewhere and wait it out? I already have the supplies ready and given that this place is empty… well I suppose it’s nice to have some backups. But being outside the city helped, and she could just wait around until she felt better, a relatively simple solution.
She groaned as her hand tightened her grip on the sword on its own accord. But of course, there’s a scream, so I’ll investigate. Because… because why? Because I want to? Because I still want to be a heroine? Dammit, Sophie. Why are you so stupid sometimes? She slapped herself with her free hand and took in a deep breath, turning to face the ominous entryway. She cracked what bones she could to relieve some stress and gave her blade a twirl. Lion’s Mane didn’t just feel like a blade, it felt right. It felt like an extension of herself and she was almost excited to jump back into action if not for the fear she still felt at the mere thought of entering.
Sophie kicked around a few more rocks pondering if she should just wait for the main expedition when another, fainter, scream echoed from within. Cursing her luck and idiocy, she quickly used an errant shovel to scrape out the words ‘Danger Inside’ before deciding to hold onto the tool just in case. With what little motivation she had left, she walked closer to the Myndiri ruin and stepped foot within, terrified of what she might find.
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There was an eerie sense of familiarity to the ruins near Eichafen. Dark, moss covered walls made of worn yellowed stone. The little rusted sconces with flickering motes of mage fire that illuminated barely anything, yet saturating the wide entryway with an ethereal pale blue light. The unnerving echo of her own footsteps clacking down the empty halls with little to no other sounds in response. Even the screaming seemed to disappear the moment she entered. A trap, or I was already far too late.
The entryway itself was massive and seemed to stretch on forever, branching off into three smaller corridors. Little murals had once been carved to decorate that area but time had not been kind and only scant traces remained that hadn’t faded away or crumbled into dust. She carefully shunted her way down the leftmost corridor, passing by dozens of magefire torches before she finally arrived at a spiral stairway heading downwards.
A deep sense of unease nearly brought her to a halt, her feet reluctantly taking one tiny step forward at a time. She paused as she reached crossroads; a hallway on one side and more stairs leading to a deeper floor. A heavy rumble snuck its way up from further below, the heavy steps of a creature sending her hairs up on end. Alarmed, she took a moment to weigh her options before heading back up the stairs. Might as well check the main hall and anything around there first. Hopefully the Myndiri were as proud as they were described and just had everything in a display room somewhere. Otherwise… she shivered at the thought, otherwise it's gonna be in a vault somewhere in the sublevels and that… does not sound too pleasant with whatever’s already lurking there.
Retreating back up to the entry, she made her way towards the main hall. Getting past the doorway, she stepped into what looked like a large-scale dining hall. Ancient pillars stood in silent vigil over the abandoned room and Sophie felt her stomach drop at the scene arrayed before her. Between the pillars was a crumbling stone throne and upon that chair sat one of the pathfinders, her chest completely torn open with her innards loosely dangling around her. A mask of horrified agony was frozen upon the body's face and Sophie got the sense that the expeditionary had not been quite aware of what was happening until the last moments of her life. Disgusted but not surprised, she kept her eyes moving around the room and loudly stomped her boots on the ground, wincing as every sound made her ever more aware of the quietness of the ruins. She waited, keeping every fiber of her being ready to respond to any threat. With one last stomp, she felt herself sigh with relief, the corpse hadn’t responded and nothing seemed to be shambling over. No undead at least.
Sophie snuck closer and examined the dead body in greater detail. She had been carved open by weapons from without; her body riddled with cuts, wounds, openings, and peeled skin. The blood running down her sides and the throne were already dried, but no excruciating scent of rot was present in the air. It’s been some time since she died, but not long enough for the smells to kick in, so whoever, whatever did this is probably still around. She reached over and pulled off the pathfinder’s necklace, glancing over it before she stuffed it into her pockets. Jaclyn, huh? Hopefully, the Academy group will return your tags if I drop it outside. Stars guide you.
Only when she backed away from the throne did she notice the grooves on the ground. Two small trenches that were now stained by a thin layer of dried blood. She found herself confused for a few moments before her eyes widened in horror. A ritual. This is part of a ritual! She followed the tiny trench and saw it merge into a wall and likely another room. Well… rituals generally mean sacrifices for some darker purposes. I swear if it's that death God again… why do I have such a bad feeling about all this. She turned to the corpse once more and felt a deep sense of sadness. Not just for the sorry state that the pathfinder was in, but in how her own reaction felt so muted.
Shaking her doubts away, she quickly drafted a new plan in her head and pushed towards the sacrifice room, her own heart racing with anxiety the closer she got. Strange symbols, fresh symbols, now dotted the wall. They were drawn with the dried blood of some unfortunate soul and judging by how completely gutted the pathfinder’s corpse had been; she suspected that a second person had likely been sacrificed here.
She rounded a corner and entered the first room she saw, nearly colliding face first with a body that had been propped up against the wall. Reeling backwards, she steadied herself using the doorway and despair flooded her senses. A pile of headless corpses filled up the center of the room and she had a sickening feeling that she finally understood what was happening. Looking at how their necks were roughly hewn apart, she got the feeling that whoever did this was in a hurry. Based on their uniforms too, she suspected most of these were the civilian staff and potential remnants of the research and construction crew that had originally set up the scaffolds outside.
Her scowl gave way to rage as the picture gradually unraveled itself in her mind. It made sense why everyone was so willing to scramble into the ruin and drop what they were doing despite no signs of external attack. They were either all part of the plan or were lied to and lured into the ruins. They had been betrayed, and she had no doubt that the cult was responsible. The same one that had caused the tragedies of Eichafen and Melisgrad. Always, it always turns out to be them. Why? How have they infiltrated everything so deeply? Could Melisgrad also have had a Myndiri excavation I didn’t hear about? Damn this stupid God and their stupid little ambitions. With renewed determination, she quickened her pace and moved to scout out the rest of the ruin.
Damp mossy patches were interspersed amongst the dusty ruins. The servant tunnels blending into the main halls seamlessly as age had worn away much of the distinctive decor that would’ve set the two apart. She followed the sacrificial hallway into several rooms; each filled with their own gruesome little scenes of sacrifice. One where an adventurer had been stabbed in the back before strapped onto a rack, an iron maiden, another ritualistic circle and some corpses, all gut wrenchingly horrible, and there was nothing she could do. She felt herself getting more agitated as she continued exploring, eager to get a chance at fulfilling the unspoken vendetta she had against the cult and avenging this senseless sacrifice of lives. It was only whilst traversing the increasingly labyrinthian corridors that she realized this was physically just scratching the surface of the ruin. That she had backed away from exploring whatever it was that lurked on the floors below. And they expected a small Academy expedition to somehow chart this place? Unless... She disavowed herself of the thought almost as soon as she had it. Stay safe, Ary. Friends, and everyone else.
The twists and turns eventually brought her to a grand set of double doors, the ominous humming of magic barely perceptible on her side of the doorway. But her senses could feel the raw energy that was flowing out from the room. She pressed against the doors, hoping to catch even a smidgen of anything that was going on but could hear nothing. Nervous, she clutched tightly onto her blade and gently fiddled with the door, discovering that it was unlocked. She almost breathed a sigh of relief but held her breath, almost forgetting that she was most definitely not alone in these ruins. Once this opens… whatever’s on the other side is going to notice. She could only grunt in despair when she walked backwards a little to take one last looked at the doorway. Where the pale blue magefire lit corridors and rooms behind her, whatever was inside had little slivers of a deep ruby red light shining through crack in the door. A concerning sign to say the least.
Time to crash the party I guess. She steeled her nerves and prepared for the grim fact that she might have to fight. Why is it always me who gets caught up in this shit? Couldn't be like, Taurox? Or someone else better prepared for this? Where the hells the Inquisition anyways? Shouldn't they have been monitoring this site at least? She brandished her sword one last time just to remind herself that she had it. Not that I can do anything about that, well it's now or never. Throwing caution to the wind, she put one hand on the door and pushed, just like that, she was in.