shape your flesh - THE SKY FORGE2024-03-28T11:48:30Zhttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/feed/tag/shape+your+fleshShape Your Flesh - Episode III: The Three Seals of the Apocalypse - Chapter XIV: Peeking Behind the Curtainshttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/shape-your-flesh-episode-iii-the-three-seals-of-the-apocalypse-132022-05-30T12:17:49.000Z2022-05-30T12:17:49.000ZPrimehttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/members/Prime<div><p style="text-align:center;">XXIX</p><p> </p><p>After the world stopped spinning, the sky dissolved into nothing, the light leaked out of tiny, but ever growing, cracks within reality itself until it collapsed entirely. Like an old, run-down house it crumbled around me. Every fibre of what I thought I knew rearranged into something else, the mountain was ground to dust in seconds, the two figures fell apart, the dæmon melted away. A giant whirlpool of lightless things devoid of colour swallowed me whole and dragged me down to an even deeper abyss hidden inside the painting. A place not easily accessed by traditional means of travel. But my untimely demise caused the vortex to devour my physical and metaphysical self. When the absolute darkness began to lift its veil I was permitted a glimpse into a world that was strange, frightening and at the same time painfully familiar. It was immediately clear to me where the dead of the Painted World were sent - and whence the most grievous of horrors emerged from. It was not my first encounter with this plane of existence either - the broken rose window in the chapel of Sárka. The great bridge leading up to the castle of the Undead King. The throne room. They were gateways into a realm otherwise only ever traversed by the dead. Or what creatures the mangled souls would eventually become.</p><p> </p><p>There was a black wind of coal-like debris that clouded my view. A pitch black dust storm that made me cover my eyes. I appeared to have died and yet, my body as I knew it persisted - or a perfect copy thereof reserved for the spirit realm. If one can call it such. And through this ethereal surrogate pulsed all the pain of prior and present experiences all the same. Death itself was not the harshest punishment. The raging storm gradually calmed itself after having me wrapped in black dust and stones. I was still skinless, too. The particles stuck to my exposed flesh until a malleable dust layer laid itself on top of my aching body. I can barely remember the extent of this agony but after some time of cowering on the ground the pain gradually subsided to a point at which it was almost manageable. So I got up and as I did, the storm ceased and I was shown what world I had been thrown into. </p><p> </p><p>On the horizon towered a tornado of unfathomable diameter and height, a white vortex in its centre that would occasionally emit gleaming pulses of an energy I did not understand. In front of it, however, was something else. Something I would never have anticipated to find in this realm of void and terrors. A great city. Several monumentally tall basalt spires pierced the obsidian sky. Great towers and large houses were in between and filled the space on the horizon in front of the storm. A single road led to and from it. I deducted that it must be the heart piece of whatever actually managed to live in the emptiness that was this dimension. I turned around to see if I could catch a few glimpses of any ruinous structures or other towns along the road. I found a few free standing walls further back and strange cracks in the ground from where a black mist streamed continuously. The next, big landmark was another tall monolith that rose high up into the sky far off the single road. However, I was keenly aware that this dimension harboured yet more places - I just didn't know where they were.</p><p> </p><p>I turned my attention again to the city and the storm and resolved to travel to it. My legs moved only slowly and stiffly and the black dust and debris cracked as I came forward, showering the richly covered ground in fine sand and what I assumed to be ash. Moving was agonising at first but the longer I walked the more numb my body became. But the numbness of my exposed flesh and muscles was woefully incomplete. I wasn't permitted to die altogether there. My body, a spiritual surrogate made flesh, was indestructible - designed for maximum torment in the face of a world that was, by all accounts, even less forgiving than the blood soaked painting I had left behind. My greatest concern was whether or not I was doomed to wander the black void and its sable city forever until I became a nameless terror akin to what things had always lurked just out of view whenever we had the misfortune of finding ourselves within this void's ethereal grasp. As I pondered I began to wonder how long it would take me to transform and how painful the overall process was. What it entailed and if I would gradually dismorph into some creature or if it was abrupt and sudden. How much I would remember of my old self, if anything?</p><p> </p><p>Who would I be without my memories? On the way to the city I had some time to think about this question. I previously realised how integrated a certain darkness was inside my being. And as the epiphany struck, so did a good number of inner dæmons disappear. There was, of course, still a great dissonance between my conscious mind and will to accept my very own, personal truth and the real consequences of said truth and how it related to my struggles. My emotional infighting aside, I concluded that all the things that were a part of me would be lost in time, for better or for worse. And with it all resemblance to me as a person who lived. At least, that's what I believed at the time. Perhaps because the thought of having to endure an existence as a hideous monster with my conscious mind intact was more terrifying than otherwise.</p><p> </p><p>The city was not far when these thoughts raced by and vanished. The walls and gate were much taller than I first thought. And the entirety of the architecture beyond them, even larger. I was dwarfed by its sheer size and in a way, it was genuinely frightening to have buildings of any kind that loomed this large everywhere I looked. So imposing was the experience that, for a moment, I had forgotten about the perpetual torment of my worldly senses in this otherworldly unspace. The gate, not less towering than the rest of the massive brick wall, stood wide open. A welcoming gesture for all the lost souls that might find themselves there. I stepped through, full of anticipation.</p><p> </p><p>As the impossibly large, mostly cylindrical but sometimes conical or cubical, buildings took up my field of view I made the curious observation that, in spite of their enormous size, door- and window frames (for most of the simpler buildings had no actual doors or windows in any meaningful way) were about as big as one would expect them to be for a regular house. This resulted in freakish looking facades of one large, black slate being perforated with an abundance of holes. Sometimes bent in the case of most towers and spires. Most striking of all, however, was the utter featurelessness of the city. Every house appeared to have been chiselled out of one, great block of obsidian or basalt. The surfaces were as seamless as they were smooth with no clearly discernible connection points betwixt walls or ceilings. As if cast from a single mold, the great structures dominated not only the landscape but also my mind. The total lack of embellishments was surprisingly irritating to think about. The longer I looked at the city the more I got the impression that it was less of a place to live and settle down. It was more akin to a prison with subpar living conditions, built by someone who doesn't really understand how humanoid races construct their dwellings. The barebones nature of the architectural feats suggested that someone tried to emulate a real city and failed in subtle but simultaneously appallingly obvious ways.</p><p> </p><p>With nothing better to do I decided to brace the unknown and enter one of the cubical looking buildings rather close to the entrance of the city. As I stepped inside I was made acutely aware of the reason for the building's dimensions. I found myself within a darkly lit series of corridors that were arranged in what I assumed had to be a maze like pattern. I got lost quite frequently and because of the blandness of the interior I soon could not tell where I was anymore. There were countless doors embedded into the walls I dared not enter for fear of what I might find. Meanwhile, the pain slowed me down to a crawl. I didn't want to move but what else was there to keep me occupied and my mind focused? I feared that I might lose my wits entirely should I give in and succumb to the pain. It beckoned me to fall to my knees notwithstanding my iron resolve. All the more fear had I as I finally pushed open one of the doors to a different room. I was defenseless and slow and if anything was there that might be posing any threat at all I… I'm honest, I don't know what would have become of me.</p><p> </p><p>My fears were swept away by the swathes of humanoid figures in the room. It was quite spacious but that was barely noticeable by all the dead that populated it. They looked at me, a hundred pairs of eyes following my crooked gait. Some covered their mouths at my frightful appearance. Others looked inquisitive. And it dawned on me that there must be a reason as to why all these people stayed inside rather than wandering about outside, trying to make the place a home perhaps. At first I inferred that it had something to do with how the interior corridors were arranged and assumed that many had just given up as they always got lost when trying to escape. But the figures began whispering and started to back away in horror. And then I understood. A rumbling sound came closer. Something must have been following my tracks inside. This was why nobody walked outside. Nervously I backed away from the door but it was already too late. All I saw was a black, formless something that burst through the door and wall. It opened its huge maw and swallowed me in a single bite.</p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;">XXX</p><p> </p><p>Had everything played out the way it was intended I might have been sucked into a pitch black belly of some unidentifiable thing to for all eternity be showered in poison and washed with acid. But someone, somewhere else, had some other plans. As the aggressive liquids ran their torturous course to inflict burning pain upon my body, I saw again cracks of light form within the creature's insides. The light shewed the sorry amount of those who have been already swallowed drowning in their voiceless agony but even they dissolved into light until at the end of one of the cracks, two familiar faces were visible. </p><p> </p><p>"Shthelith, quick! He's waking up!", I heard Nephethys' voice yell.</p><p>"Told thee, Shthelith hath a few tricks up his sleeve! Now, Thorus, tell: What dost thou remember?"</p><p> </p><p>The voices were the best thing I had heard in a very long time. It didn't take too long before the scene took up my entire field of view and the dark abyss of the shadow's belly faded. The painful sensations subsided and I fell fast asleep after having breached dimensions twice in a short time span. </p><p>After I woke up again, my two companions sat already beside me and did their best to restore my body. Moving my limbs was still far from easy but it was doable. Looking at my arms I saw an incomplete skin wrapped around it. Here and there some bits of flesh were visible but most of it was intact once more. A reflex prompted me to feel for my throat. To my surprise I found that there was no scar tissue, no cut, no open wound. It had been perfectly mended and reconstructed.</p><p>"We even went through the trouble to retrieve your belongings after the battle" Nephethys said with a soft smile as she gently caressed my cheek. I looked to the side and on a small boulder there lay a roughly stitched together coat and some tunic and trousers as well as my sword. </p><p> </p><p>I looked at my left hand and found that it was still fragmented as it was before but hemerite was no part of the equation anymore. </p><p>"I remov'd the crimson rock from thy hand as it sap'd thy life force. It appear'd thy powers are still intact, however. Thy flesh adapted to the conditions of this world and, like it or not, thou'rt a blood mage now."</p><p>"With the added advantage of having a shape-shifting hand that you can do pretty much anything with.", Nephethys interjected. My hand looked very strange indeed. The flesh had been broken up into many pieces and they floated together in a rough formation that imitated my hand's original shape. I concentrated on it and watched the flesh pieces snap tight together to form a normal hand once more.</p><p>"That was easy", I half-consciously stated. I had just willed something to happen - and it happened. </p><p> </p><p>Shthelith was delighted at the sight. "Very good, Thorus!" he complimented me. "I didn't expect thee to learn so quickly after having been dead for half a day".</p><p>"Yeah, about that…"</p><p>In as much truthfulness as I could muster I told them everything I had experienced. From the moment of our separation up until I was killed and emerged within the dark place.</p><p>"Althin'sa Taïl" Shthelith pondered. "It is my people's name for the dimension thous't entered. I never thought it was bleeding into this world but from what ye and I saw it maketh a lot of sense".</p><p>We discussed the idea that tears in interdimensional space as a result of something that was yet unknown were responsible for the anomalies we've hitherto encountered. Someone or something must have been meddling with magic in quite the profound way if that was the case. However, in the case of the rose window in the chapel I believed it was a gateway created on purpose. If that was true it meant that whoever was in charge of keeping the seals locked also had sufficient capabilities to open a portal to the realm of the dead. The implications were less than ideal and bade ill for the remainder of our journey. </p><p> </p><p>"However," Nephethys inhaled excitedly, "I was able to salvage the seals of bone and flesh from the site of your… um, you-know-what. Since you were an immediate emergency I didn't check the peak for the last seal but it has to be up there still".</p><p>This was genuinely great news. If the seals had been lost as a result of my death I would have probably fallen to despair. Living in the Painting was bad enough but dying in it was even worse.</p><p>"Thank you for retrieving the seal from the cove. You really risked your life there only to die anyway a few days later". Nephethys chuckled but her quivering voice told of sadness instead of cheer.</p><p> </p><p>"I am sorry, Nephethys", I said. </p><p>"Sorry for what?"</p><p>"Sorry for coming this close to killing you. Sorry for almost strangling you to death. Sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean to, I just… lost control. My armour. The hemerite. It beckoned me to…"</p><p>"I know. Had I known that was you I…"</p><p> </p><p>We were both at a loss for the proper words to convey our complicated emotions. And we were both very, very close to one another. And if Shthelith had not been there, we might have exchanged more than a few longing breaths. But the elf was quick to remind us of our task at hand as he waved awkwardly in the background.</p><p>"We are close to the conclusion of our adventure!", he proclaimed as he waved the seals about. "And after we set foot in the city I shall guide ye to the portal to get ye homeward."</p><p> </p><p>He was very excited about our apparent closeness to this ordeal's conclusion. When he put it like that I began to feel hope, too. A feeling I had lost long ago. Nephethys only looked at me, partly with delight as I was sure she already envisioned how we might live together once we get back. But there was also worry in her eyes. Something didn't feel right for her but I refrained from prying as to not inconvenience her in front of Shthelith who was, when it came to our relationship, a third party.</p><p>I, too, had my fair share of confused feelings. It was the fact that we've endured so much trauma and, in my case, even death, that I wasn't sure how I would go on with my life once this was all over. How was I supposed to ever feel normal again? And I suspected Nephethys to feel much the same way.</p><p> </p><p>"You're right", I groaned as I was still recovering from my death experience. "Let me just, uh, get my things". I pushed what feeble blanket had been covering my body away and slowly sat at the bed's edge. Nephethys' eyes inadvertently rested upon me as I stood up. She blushed a bit behind her ashen skin when she herself discovered her open mouth as she stared. I didn't make the impression but I saw the look on her face out of the corner of my eye. I walked over the stone stool thing and retrieved my garb and coat. Nephethys made efforts to look away as I got dressed.</p><p>I appreciated the effort the two had made to stitch my torn garments back together and for a moment, I felt like my old self again. Cloth trousers and chest piece underneath a leather coat, complemented by steel studded boots. My Gladius, the heart piece of my equipment, thankfully made it through thus far and felt good dangling from my hip. I missed the Cloudbreaker, but I had to make do without it. In its stead, my left hand made quite the addition to my arsenal. Shthelith proclaimed to be very eager to further my insight into my new powers as soon as we got the time. </p><p> </p><p>My legs were still a little weak and the skin wasn't quite regrown to the full extent.</p><p>"'Twill take some time still in order for thy skin to rebuild itself entirely", Shthelith said. "I took care to rebuild thy most crucial spots first, however".</p><p>I nodded with thanks. "I'll do my best to get used to it".</p><p> </p><p>"Alright", I exhaled. "I think we should trek up the mountain once more and look for the last seal. The ancient word opens the gates to Bendicia, yes? I don't know what will await us once we're inside but maybe it is going to be slightly easier for once. Shthelith, you said that the city should be, in theory, practically empty, right?"</p><p>"Verily. It should be."</p><p>"Very well. Then the last, big hurdle is going to be the plains in the west as we'll have to circle around since the cove collapsed. Now that we're so close, I believe that we can actually make it through. And hey, I only died once so far."</p><p>I did jest in that moment. I believe there simply was no other way to cope with the indescribable feeling of losing your life. Nephethys and Shthelith chuckled at my remark and the tension around the small, enclosed space we were in loosened a little. We knew what we had to do. Being together again, the three of us who had held fast thus far, it was a good feeling. I knew that I had companions at my side that I could depend on if the worst came to pass. And since the worst already did come to pass I firmly believed that, together, we could do anything. </p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;">XXXI</p><p> </p><p>Morale was as high as the general circumstances would permit. Our outlook was less bleak than before because we could, in our minds at least, see the end of this long wayfare into the crimson stained recesses of what looked like mere paint on the outside. I had already long forgotten what the actual painting even looked like back in Cyrodiil. I had even forgotten what twisted case even brought me into that situation in the first place by that point. Writing down my experiences in what I had previously intended to be a letter of resignment brought all the memories back to light. And I'm remembering so many more things I cannot bring myself to mention, even now. This has also long surpassed any traditionally accepted length for a letter so I've taken to file all the pages away in order to deliver them in crates as soon as I'm finished. </p><p> </p><p>What I meant to say, however, was how much of an impact my experiences have had so that I had forgotten so many things along the way. I couldn't tell how many days or weeks had passed since we entered the painting. The fact that the sun never set didn't help. And I still don't know by what mystical methodologies Shthelith was able to tell the time of day and how many days pass at any given time. Maybe he lied to us about that all the time and only pretended to know. We couldn't really tell the difference but it didn't matter. His knowledge, if truly it was such, was an anchor for us when we were close to losing our hope. We always had the impression that this indigenous elf could help us, no matter how dire our fate. To me, he always appeared to know just what to do. And in this case, it was retrieving the last missing seal. The key to our freedom.</p><p> </p><p>I was ready for what lay ahead. The ever caring Nephethys voiced a few concerns in regards to that notwithstanding. </p><p>"Are you sure you're feeling up for this? I suppose we could rest a day or two longer. Shthelith will help us keep track of the time."</p><p>"It doesn't get much better than this" I confidently replied as I pointed to the few remaining portions of exposed flesh left. "I don't want to delay us any further. Besides, has there ever been a situation we could not get out of? By the Divines, we cheated death itself. I believe there's nothing we can't work out. Not anymore."</p><p>I didn't fully intend for it to happen but my speech inspired Nephethys to a degree and she nodded with a stern look on her face. </p><p>"Okay. Then we must go." She looked at Shthelith. </p><p>"Let us make haste, then", he replied, "we shan't lose any more precious time. Let us find that seal."</p><p> </p><p>He approached the rock wall nearby and gesticulated in front of it until some reddish light appeared. A rumbling announced movement of stone and the wall opened up to shew us the unrelenting light. The light only I seemed to know as the face of the Goddess. I briefly wondered if the unconsecrated prayer book was still on its lectern so that we might learn more about what dwelt above. Reluctantly I limped forward into the cold rays of light and the hot air. </p><p> </p><p>As we made off, I wondered where Shthelith had been the entire time and whether or not Nephethys and Shthelith had been together since we lost each other in the cove. I unceremoniously asked Shthelith just where he had been and how he had survived thus far.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, after the tunnels fill'd with water and we saw thee get swept away by the waves I was quick to build an air barrier around Nephethys and me both. It work'd until we got separated. I believe thous't been hit by a branch or root or rock outcropping, hast thou not, Nephethys?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yea, I think so. It's kind of difficult to remember though". She scratched her head in thought.</p><p> </p><p>"Thereafter I floated alone in liquid darkness. I had trouble to avoid a similar fate as Nephethys. The air sphere did not deflect physical objects. After a while I got ejected out of the tunnel and into a cave while narrowly avoiding death. The tunnel disembogued into a waterfall and the cave floor was a little less than a person's length from the mouth of the tunnel. So, I flew o'er a pit and landed in a dry cave."</p><p>"Aforemention'd cave, it hath reveal'd itself, was infested with wet, snake-like beasts the size of regular upper extremities. I fell into a nest of them and kill'd most of the creatures before I could proceed any further. A few moments later and I was requir'd to lay down and crawl thru the narrow tunnels of this unknown part of the subterranean tunnel network. It was dank, damp and filthy and smell'd even more rotted than the remainder of the cove I travers'd thus far. Soon, however, I stumbled upon the source of the foul odour."</p><p> </p><p>"An oblong, ulcerated and altogether oozing mass of flesh crawl'd thru the filth and the mud. 'Twas thick and bursting pustules on its body steam'd with rancid mist. A great, hastate maw was on its blind head - if indeed it could be call'd a head for it blended seamlessly with the remainder of its bubbling body. A thin layer of something oily covered it in its entirety which, I believe, aided in its locomotion. 'Twas quite sizable indeed. The tunnel it bor'd with its maw was big enough for me to stand upright. But this sorry creature had some trickeries up its imaginary sleeves."</p><p>"It block'd the way and without confrontation there was no getting past it. In blissful ignorance I conjur'd a few needles in hopes of piercing its skin from behind. I was surprised to find that its answer to my attack was to let its head emerge from its back side - at which point it opted to come at me directly. My blood magick was deflected by its moist skin. No matter what I flung at it, nothing could pierce it even slightly. Worse, its body fill'd the tunnel from top to bottom. I could not circle around it nor could I run anywhere. For behind me lay a dead end. So I saw only unhinged jaws with foul teeth eager to crush me in betwixt. But therein lay my strategy for defeating it."</p><p> </p><p>"As ye noticed, the creature's skin could be penetrated not by my traditional means of combat. However, its vulnerable insides could. It would take a few bites in my general direction that I could avoid. I only waited for a big bite that I was sure it would try doing at some point - possibly in hopes of swallowing me whole. Shthelith probably doesn't need to tell ye he was right. As it did what I had anticipated, I sent a great lance thru its body. And then another, and another. I wasted no time in trying to destroy its outermost layer of protective fluid. I pierced its organs with a few wild guesses until it stopp'd moving. Only then came the least enjoyable part."</p><p> </p><p>Nephethys and I raised a few eyebrows but for some reason, she seemed to know what Shthelith was going to say. Even stranger, she seemed to know how it felt as well.</p><p> </p><p>"I cut thru its body 'till I came out the other side. It may have look'd soft on the outside but my nascent blades had some trouble cutting it all. When the deed was done I emerged once more in the tunnel but wherever the waves had taken me must have been considerably far away. For I saw a way up. Stairs, to be precise. And these stairs led to a subterranean part of a city that doth not exist any longer."</p><p>"I follow'd the stairs up. There were many, many stairs to climb in a continuous incline. The tunnel appear'd to have been carv'd for the sole purpose of reaching the underground cave network. Perhaps 'twas intended for burial rites that never saw their advent. Or even a surreptitious passage to move unseen from place to place. With the way the merfolk had transform'd everything it was difficult to tell. As my legs began to give in I finally reach'd the top of the stairs that had me emerge in a small chamber just below the surface. I did know not where I was but I saw another set of stairs lead further up, out of the empty, ruinous chamber. To the surface, where only a few loosely placed stones indicated that a building once stood at its place. And not too far off was the mountain. Turning around, I saw that I was close to the sea and the shore and I wonder'd whence ye might've gone. I saw the sea and knew ye were right beneath it, struggling to survive."</p><p> </p><p>"I could not go back so I did the only thing I could and moved forward. I figured that if I could get up the mountain at least partly I might be able to look for signs of life from ye. Or, at the very least, confirm your deaths. Even if that thought was quite grim. I climb'd the mountain and went past the curious tents we now know were inhabited by feral folk. I reach'd a good vantage point and could overlook the entire stretch of sea that ran from the recently reawaken'd woods to the mountain. Shortly after, the earth began to rumble and shake. Violently enough, dare I say, that I nigh fell to my doom as I lost my footing for a moment. I survived, only to bear witness to the sea as rocks collapsed in on themselves beneath the water's surface. 'Twas an impressive sight to behold."</p><p>"After the rumbling ended I saw two figures as they came up from beneath the sea. One was a scarlet dæmon that just made it to the shore. The other dæmon was clad in black and walked over the water to a different part of the shore. If ye did not already guess, the first was thee, Thorus. And the second was thee, Nephethys. Although I did not know it at the time. I had other worries. The scarlet dæmon I could leave well alone to fend for itself. But the one clad in black was a greater concern. Its garb signified it to be of the race of the cave-dwelling harvesters who made it their habit to kill and enslave everything in their path to the best of their ability. And to see one above ground was an immediate threat I was not willing to ignore. So I instead concentrated on that one and let the crimson one go."</p><p> </p><p>"I realised soon, however, that within that thick, black robe was Nephethys. Her… legs gave her away as they cut thru the heavy, coarse fabric of the Harvester robes. This is when I met her. And after our disagreement on past matters, we join'd forces and ascended the mountain. We came at just the right moment, it seemeth. To witness thy scalping and decapitation. I made utmost efforts to preserve what remain'd of thy body. Meanwhile, Nephethys was furious and attacked the thing responsible for thy premature death in a frenzy. Thou'rt very lucky indeed, to have so dedicated a friend. Mine mending, too, is a fortunate coincidence as well. We need thee, Thorus, and I am very gladsome to have brought thee back from the fringe."</p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;">———</p><p style="text-align:center;"><a href="https://theskyforge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/tales-of-darkness-table-of-contents?edited=1" target="_blank">Back to Table of Contents</a></p><p style="text-align:center;">———</p></div>Shape Your Flesh - Episode III: The Three Seals of the Apocalypse - Chapter IX: Downhttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/shape-your-flesh-episode-iii-the-three-seals-of-the-apocalypse-82021-08-29T07:28:15.000Z2021-08-29T07:28:15.000ZPrimehttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/members/Prime<div><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">XVI</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The least I had expected was to be attacked by an ally. Out of nowhere, the dark silhouette whirred past me with stunning speed and hid in the shadows beyond. I briefly wondered what it was, for I could tell all the things it evidently was not, when I got interrupted by a searing pain in my right hip. The black gust had slashed me on its way past! </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Even more surprised was I at the sudden assault for my trying in removing the helmet that had </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">grown </span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">around my head. The horned contraption, I imagined, was probably the reason someone or something was trying to put me down in the first place. Albeit I had no way of observing myself, I must have looked absolutely terrifying judging from the length and pointiness of the single horn that protruded from my forehead like a dæmoniac perversion of the fabled unicorns. In any case: I did not see the attack coming.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Blood poured out of the fresh wound. It closed all too quickly however. So quick, in fact, I thought I had imagined the gash - but the pain persisted regardless. As the wound magically healed itself, the attacker came back for another round. They were swift - but not swift enough to hide their identity. Before another blade could enter my field of view I glimpsed the attacker's likeness. I was confused to find that it had been Nephethys who turned her weapons against me. But in the heat of battle I couldn't communicate to her who or what I was - or wasn't. But I saw that she did not engage with the same ferocity that I knew her for. In fact, it almost looked like her power was being consumed at triple the usual rate, resulting in an early state of fatigue on her part. I managed to dodge and avoid a fair number of strikes, which is a fact that speaks for itself, before Nephethys was finally too exhausted to continue the onslaught. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I still got my share of injury and had I not this </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">growth</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> around my body to protect me, I surely would have died there. Then again, without all the festering hemerite she probably would not have attacked me. Mostly because I would have drowned in the flooded tunnels.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I looked at my opponent. The fear in her eyes made me feel a kind of emotion I never felt before. She was afraid of me because to her, I looked like one of the abominations that roamed the dead world above. I felt filthy, sad and sorry at the same time. I needed to get rid of that helmet quickly. I could not bear seeing her like this. My heavy steps inched forward to reach out to her. Nephethys backed away but she couldn't escape me. I witnessed my hand grope her neck, lifting her up just a little off the ground, as I realised: </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">I could crush her</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I let go. The Dunmer fell to the ground. Now I was the one to back away. There was some force present in the hemerite that attempted to seize control. To tear apart and consume. I resisted it at first but the urge to destroy grew ever larger. While I struggled to retain my sanity and sense of self, Nephethys seized the opportunity and fled into the dark bowels of the cove. I watched her limp into the shadows. I tried to shout after her but she would not listen. When she was gone, queer sensations in my body arrested all of my attention. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">An electrical trickling in my topmost skin layer began to shew itself on different parts of my body. Like little sparks of lightning that would dance across my electrified skin, its intensity heightened in places. It was an uneven distribution of electrical force, the reasons for which I didn't know. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Over time the sensation lessened somewhat until it was only faintly noticeable as soon as I concentrated on it. As if it was some sort of additional sense, although I could not fathom what it was for and how it reciprocated. I only knew that I had to find my dear friend and clear a few things up. I still hadn't figured out how to deal with the helmet which meant that, until then, I needed to protect Nephethys from the shadows if I didn't want to provoke another conflict that might weaken her even more.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">She was far from the strong, agile woman that I knew and loved. Instead, she was limping around in her undergarments, blades at the ready not with her usual confidence but in fright and defence. She must have known that something was wrong with her. Either that, or she was hunted by a thing more terrible than anything we had hitherto encountered. Either way, I had to be careful in my pursuit.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I witnessed the dark elf hasten down a corridor straight ahead so I turned my back on the floating flesh sacks for the time being and followed her trail. Once I did, I noticed the electrical feeling in my body subside completely as I entered the darkness. Did the shadows suppress whatever sense I acquired? I was unsure but there was no time to ponder. I had to find Nephethys and make her understand I was no vile creature. But how, I wondered. I found myself able to speak but the helmet appeared to mute my voice for the outside world. At least I believed that Nephethys hadn't suddenly gone deaf. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">So my only hope was to find a way to remove the protective plating around my head. There had to be a way without trying to break it open. Just then I stopped walking in the middle of the corridor, halting movement in shock. I realised that the hemerite coating and my skin were no longer two separated layers. They now were one, thick, protective layer, the outermost hemerite an extension of my skin. I could feel with it as though my skin was exposed.</span></p><p><em><span style="font-weight:400;">Which meant that nerves had already grown through the stone, anchoring and embedding themselves within.</span></em></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Unable to truly grasp the ramifications of this fact, I remembered in a haze how I was able to shape my hands like tools at will. Perhaps, with some practice, I could do this to my entire body to some extent. Given enough time. As I picked myself up and walked, still in pursuit of Nephethys, I thought of naught but a way to command my armour. I tried thinking the strongest of thoughts but ultimately all I got was a headache. However, as should later become worryingly apparent, I was given a lot of time to think.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">During my search of the runaway dark elf I encountered no living thing at all. No merfolk, no flesh sacks. Not even the usual, marine lifeforms one would happen upon in damp caves. The many tunnels seemed almost devoid of life. "Maybe Nephethys caught their attention and they went after her", I mumbled silently into my helmet. I had been walking for a long while but I failed to make any real progress at all. Neither did I pick up a trace of Nephethys (probably because Dark Brotherhood assassins are hard to track in the first place) nor did the helmet obey my thoughts. On top of all that I lost my path multiple times over until I couldn't tell where I was anymore. The narrow tunnels of the cove stretched on endlessly as I wandered, seemingly without purpose. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">After some time, I began to ask myself what became of Shthelith. I remembered that both Nephethys and Shthelith got carried away by the raging waves of the flood. Perhaps she had some idea where that blood elf could be. I didn't want to admit it to myself at that point in time, but I began to have suspicions towards Shthelith. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">Maybe he didn't lose us - he left us</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">, I thought underneath my armour plating. I was of course getting furious at the hopelessness of the situation and willingly accused him of being responsible for it. I didn't truly know, however, and in the end it didn't bring much comfort. But I had to think of something else other than my entrapment in those caves. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I don't know for how long I've been wandering through the damp, iron-filled mists, wading through knee-deep water, sometimes even climbing low walls of rock and putrid flesh. With time the air got thicker. My footing, too, suffered to a degree as I had the impression that the floor suddenly started to give way under my weight. I began to have doubts as to my choice of path when the first, dessicated corpse came into view, half submerged in some fluid. I couldn't quite tell what it was, only that it wasn't entirely human. As I went, I fancied I was under some kind of illusion spell for the walls and ceiling, too, appeared rather flexible. The longer I spent in that tunnel the higher both temperature and humidity of the surrounding air seemed to rise until it clicked and I realised that I trod some all too familiar territory. The soft walls, floor and ceiling, the warm and moist atmosphere, an altogether putrid stench and the occasional, steaming puddle or hanging corpse. This could have only been a shredmound!</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">One of the things I've learned during my stay in that realm of terror and madness was that one mustn't panic inside a shredmound. It works a little like the web of a spider - if you move too fast or erratically it is going to take note and will, as consequence, start producing digestive fluids. So I crouched and slithered ever so quietly along the skin of the inverse beast. I remembered well what struggle it was for the three of us to fight our way through the shredmound beneath the Aímeri chapel so I dared not to move any faster than I had to or try to open passageways that have overgrown with flesh and skin. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Meanwhile, my control over my new body began to increase. I started to feel the material moving and shifting whenever I invoked a few thoughts. As I waded slowly through the shredmound, the exit, if you could call it that, revealed itself. A circular, pulsating ring of red flesh with a small hole in the middle about as big as a head. To open it meant to wake the creature, but as it was the end of the terrible hallways of meat, there was no real danger to be feared (unless I dealt with a moving shredmound; which I was not). I conjured a sharp blade from my right arm, gently inserted it into the hole, placing its edge on the flesh and with one, swift downward motion, tore it asunder. The splattering blood was seemingly consumed by my armour as I heard the thing wail in pain at my sudden assault. I breached through the cut and fell to the ground. Looking behind, there was only the movement of swinging tentacles and acid glands on the inside of the thing. I turned my head and looked forward to continue my journey.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">XVII</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I realised soon, however, that all of this meant that Nephethys didn't go this way. If she had been, I had been exposed to an enraged shredmound. Either that or she somehow found a way to fit through the hole at the end. Either way, my hopes were getting crushed the further I went. This maze of tunnels that could be flooded at any given moment was too vast that even a map wouldn't have been of much help. Some of the tunnels I encountered after that were barely traversible. Floors as roughly cut as the walls and ceiling made it nigh impossible to properly navigate. Had it not been for my armour I would have probably not come very far through these hostile passages. This lessened hopes of finding Nephethys alive even further. How much can a sick, half-naked Dunmer without food or water do in those depths anyway? I kept asking myself this very question for the remainder of the travels through the tunnels repeatedly. I was unaware that even greater peril was close at hand, so I carried myself slowly in despair towards what I suspected to be yet another twisted turn in the cave system. But fate would not have it that way. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The next few moments are all but a blur, for everything happened faster than I was able to really keep track of at that point. Although I haven't felt hunger or thirst in hours I was still getting seriously tired and my mental acuity lessened in response to the increasing stress of the journey. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Wearily I approached the winding path when suddenly the ground gave way. Below me the rock crumbled to dust under my weight and I fell into the hole. I hit my head and body several times on the surrounding walls and on things protruding from them. It was too dark to make out all the things I hit. As I landed, I could hear my voice as it reverberated through the even lower caves for the first time since my transformation. The pain was almost forgotten at the sound of my voice as it was thrown back at me. My helmet must've taken severe damage during the fall. I inspected it with my hands and found that it had developed several cracks in its hull, allowing the air to reach my nostrils once again.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">This was a relief. I could finally communicate with the outside world. However, I had fallen deep and all leftover sense of direction that I had retained up to that point stayed up above at the edge of the hole. I rolled over slowly and pushed myself up from all fours onto my two feet. The crushing fear that I might never again see the light of day was pervasive as it was persistent. Worse still, my companions were nowhere to be found either. There I stood, all alone in the pitch black void that reeked of dead fish, blood and other, less definable things. But there was yet hope, for the tunnels went on in dryness. I must have fallen so deep that even the water was unable to penetrate the many, many layers of soil and stratum. I welcomed this new environment. It still smelled like the cove that I knew but it felt different. The air was less damp as opposed to above and the overall temperature was warmer. It was still incredibly dark but through the hemerite layers of my damaged helmet I could see clearly. There was a path right in front of me that I took.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I left the chamber that I crashed into and in doing so, the familiar smell of rotting, marine life vanished altogether. The tunnels down there were somewhat wider and more irregularly hewn - clearly the work of some resident work force. But by whom was the stone molded so coarsely? I wondered this, as the usual tunnels carved out by the merfolk were finely cut in comparison and much narrower. I trod hitherto unknown territory. A layer of caves that went even deeper than the cove above my head. And it was then that I wondered just how far down I could go. I was incredibly lucky, too, to have been covered by such an amount of armour. I might have been already dead otherwise. But there were yet more things to that place that I needed to discover.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I ventured down the path and soon came about a set of stairs cut into the solid rock. And might I say, I hadn't seen stairs ever since we left the overgrown village around the castle of the Undead King. My curiosity was set ablaze and for a moment I forgot about Nephethys and Shthelith. I needed to go down those stairs and discover what secrets lay beyond. During my descent I noticed a weak, electrical pulse run along the surface of my skin and armour. It wasn't a continuous occurrence but it happened every so often. I still didn't quite understand what this sensation wanted to tell me. What I could without a doubt tell, however, was that the temperature kept rising the further down the spiralling stairs took me. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In time, the darkness went from simply dark to oppressive. Something about the atmosphere seemed heavy and burdened. And the farther I got the stronger the electrical trickling in my skin became. Before long I felt watched but I failed to visually perceive any entities. When I came off the stairs, all I saw was a semi-large room with a chiselled pillar in the middle whereupon were engraved words in an unknown script. I slowly approached it, sliding my armoured fingers over its smooth surface, running along each individual letter in an effort to make out a hint as to what the text could have said.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Just then, the pulse that made my skin crawl spiked and behind me, a large, fleshy, red dripping, tentacled sphere, as horrifyingly disfigured as it was, appeared from the shadows.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">It caught me by surprise and managed to hit me with its writhing appendages. I realised then that my armour had been compromised and blood poured out of my skin in the places where it touched me. Jumping back, I tried to mold my flesh into deadly weaponry once more but it refused to work in this instance. As if my suit of armour had run out of energy and was in need of some replenishment I had to rely on my swordsmanship to survive. So I drew the hemerite blade from its sheath and attacked. I found that I was still rather durable and quick in spite of the armour's state. Using this to my advantage, I avoided the many-teethed flesh-sac and its assaults as I elegantly cut off its tentacles one by one. It screamed in protest and opened its mouth, more akin to a pit of bones, teeth and meat than anything else, to tear me apart.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I answered with the sword and let out groans of battle as the blade sliced through its maw, burying itself deep into the body, killing it in the process. The thing fell apart completely and only the remains of a few teeth and nails hinted at its previous life as either a human or an elf. Then I perceived curious noises behind me. As I turned around, the central pillar that I had touched earlier appeared to "drink" the blood of the dead creature. The strange glyphs on it began to glow ever so faintly and, soon enough, a loud clicking noise could be heard. Something had opened.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I watched the pillar turn slowly around its own axis before it gently descended into the floor, opening up a secret passage beneath the flooring, leading down even further. I turned one last time to examine the room when in the distance, I spotted a humanoid figure, advancing slowly towards me.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">———</span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;"><a href="https://theskyforge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/tales-of-darkness-table-of-contents?edited=1" target="_blank">Back to Table of Contents</a></span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">———</span></p></div>Shape Your Flesh - Episode III: The Three Seals of the Apocalypse - Chapter VII: Baptism by Bloodhttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/shape-your-flesh-episode-iii-the-three-seals-of-the-apocalypse-62021-03-09T10:25:14.000Z2021-03-09T10:25:14.000ZPrimehttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/members/Prime<div><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">XI</span></p><p style="text-align:center;"> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Chdla! Ldil, md!". Those were the first words I heard the scaly monstrosity regurgitate after it had slithered towards us. I can't even begin to emphasise how hideous this foul creature from the depths truly was. A bastard of man, fish and eel amongst other, not Nirnic things now stood before me supported by its large and muscular tail. It wore no clothes so it permitted me to view each individual scale and fin that it possessed and ascertain its gender. The female hybrid held a spear of impressive length and probable sharpness in her hands which were themselves outfitted with talons and webbing betwixt the fingers. The rest of the body was covered in fins - the lower and upper arms, the back and tail as well as the sides. Even her noseless, predatory face sported fins on its cheeks. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Her face was particularly unsightly. Unblinking eyes of a sickly greenish yellow with no pupils stared in our direction. We had no way of telling whom she was staring at but my gut told me that I had been chosen as her first target. Her jaw unhinged in a threatening gesture and display of power as rows upon rows of flesh-rending fangs revealed themselves through her cruel grin when she presumably prepared for her next meal. The blue-grey skin stretched as her maw was agape with a thick, dripping tongue lusting for the sweet, irony taste of fresh meat that had only just been torn from a body whose heart was still beating. But make no mistake. She wasn't a mere animal, driven by unquenchable hunger like so many creatures before her. She was capable of profound thought and strategy. And that was what made her so dangerous. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">She slithered along the cavernous walls and met our wonder with her oblong spear. I managed to deflect the blade with my arm but suffered some severe force that imbalanced my stance. On my knees, I watched Nephethys rush to my aid and assault the fish-woman just in time before her vile claws could reach out to me. Our adversary was surprisingly quick - an ill omen, considering that a large portion of their civilisation dwells below the water's surface. The creature expertly evaded Nephethys' strike but was unprepared for Shthelith and his blood magic. From the surrounding pools he drew his strength to summon a storm of hardened needles and rending waves. The scales of this mix breed monster held fast and swallowed the needles. However, the waves broke them and blue blood soaked the soil we stood upon. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Another elegant movement of his hand and Shthelith's spell transformed into a giant scythe's blade. His arms came down in a diagonal motion and the lower body, from the waist down, got separated from the torso. A clean cut that spilled even more blood, blue like the Lake Rumare around the Imperial City that I knew so well.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Be careful not to consume the monster's blood for thine magicke!", Shthelith warned me, "it is pure poison to thee". Blood magic only truly works if you take up some of its essence within you. Over the years of warfrare against the blood elves, the merfolk evolved countermeasures that would allow their dead brethren to serve in battle far beyond their demise. Their spilled blood would poison the Aímeri forces and brought ruin to them. That's how the merfolk had won the war and drove back their enemies. Shthelith knew this however, and was able to avoid attracting the blue blood of the fish men. But it was all too easy to mistakenly take in some of it.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Keep away from the merfolk, Thorus. Thy armour consumeth blood on touch. Let it consume not the blue blood of poison lest thou'rt in mortal danger", he then told me. I got advised to only engage these fiends with my dagger or sword as they weren't directly connected to my body and therefore posed no threat to my health.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Meanwhile, the ugly thing from the blood sea lay squirming on the ground, bleeding out swiftly. "Wgah'nagl fhtagn" she spat at us.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"They are capable of understanding and speaking our language but they choose not to", Shthelith casually explained. "What an arrogant species", Nephethys postulated. "Worse than the Altmer", I jokingly infixed and educed a smile from the beautiful dark elf. Just then the merwoman screamed "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh! Fhtagn!" before she drew her last breath through the gills on her neck and the eyes turned a pale, muddy white as her body collapsed and a pile of flesh and scales lay scattered on the cavernous floor.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith washed away the poisonous blood of the thing with another wave of his hand for safety reasons. Diluted in the ocean above us, their venom becomes ineffective and is dissolved.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"A possible strategy to battle them would be to surround oneself with ocean water then. Which means fighting them engulfed in their element is both beneficial as it is dangerous", I concluded and tried to find the optimal way of defeating these monsters. One was easy to kill in a group of three. On land. But submerged with possibly ten or twenty, the battle becomes lopsided.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">While Nephethys and Shthelith would discuss probable battle strategies against this new threat, I examined the walls of the chamber we were in more thoroughly for I had been rudely interrupted before. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">To my right there lay the corpse of the thing and above it the mural I meant to take a closer look at before. This wasn't your standard, old-age relief with crudely hewn shapes. It was art. Finely drawn strokes in the cave wall created a three-dimensional image of striking quality and beauty. They must have invented tools that cut stone like butter. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The engraving I studied shewed a battle scene wherein the merfolk slew a pointy-eared people, spilling their blood all over. The next relief then depicted the triumph over the elven invaders. A pile of aímeri bodies, atop which rested warriors of the fish-man-hybrids with their spears held up high. The third and last image looked like the beaches outside, with their small huts and quaint, religious structures strewn about.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"War, triumph, peace", Shthelith commented. "The masons of the merfolk engrav'd these images in their domain to celebrate their victory. Shthelith wond'reth if they might carve another. After we took the seal from them". His disdain for the reeking monsters was clearly noticeable. "I'm sure they will. Unless we kill them all", Nephethys piped as she looked at the murals. But we made sure that, in time, we'd be part of the history of the merfolk forever.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We had left the corpse and murals behind and traveled through a dense concatenation of small chambers lacking any salient features as well as aqueducts and tunnels, the latter of which more often than not too narrow to be traversed in full, upright posture. The naturally formed pathways were usually high enough so that the three of us could at the very least stand. But there were others that had clearly been dug or cut out of the solid rock by the merfolk to allow for a certain interconnectedness that made it easier for them to slither through the hollowed-out ground. These were much too narrow for humans or elves and forced us to crawl flat on our stomachs.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"What is this unbearable smell?", Nephethys exclaimed. "The fish men marketh their tunnels with specific, bodily fluids and combinations thereof. Others who passeth these ways are then able to discern their purpose through their skin.", the blood elf explained. Normally, the fish men don't communicate to each other by talking. They use body odour, gestures and countenance which was the reason why we didn't hear them writhe their way through the rocks. In case of the body odour, they could "taste" a smell with their skin by touching a surface. They do have a language with which they can speak but it is reserved for writing and understanding the written word.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">However, after a while Shthelith noted that it was outright </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">abnormally</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> quiet. Even if the half-eels didn't talk much to their own we had ought to at least pick up on </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">some </span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">noise. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The worst about these narrow tubes was the fact that, at any moment, one of those creatures could cross our path in the web of hewn rock. In these conditions it was impossible to defend ourselves so we always anticipated to be assaulted. But to our surprise, we saw not one of them.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A couple meters further we had to stop for a moment and catch our breath. The moist air felt horribly thick and depleted. The rotten stench made matters worse and so we had to pause for just a few seconds. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We sat there, in an oppressively constricting tunnel with barely any air to breathe and barely any light to see - in complete silence. A silence so perfect that disturbing it felt like blasphemy to me. The mere act of moving, heresy. The silence was loud after a while. Conflictingly, it was the loudest noise I ever heard. It droned in my ears as it kept getting faster and faster. My heart pounding, my skin perspiring some oily substance underneath the armoured layers. The tunnel stretched to infinite lengths and pulled the three of us further apart. Then a noise broke the spell and delivered me back to reality. The sound of running water. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Upon waking from this terrible daydream my head burned with pain from the inside. Shthelith and Nephethys both looked as harrowed as I felt but we had no choice other than to keep going, to some time reach a less narrow chamber wherein we could breathe and rest. Soon we discovered that the sound of water we had heard must have been relatively nearby as our bodies began to get wet and the smell of the crimson sea crept alongside us, racing us to the nearest exit. We hastened from opening to opening but the water kept rising, pouring in from every orifice of what I had by that time already assumed to be some living organism intent on digesting us alive. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Notwithstanding my armour's innate ability to soak up and consume blood, the water level rose regardless. Even hemerite had its limits and couldn't drink an entire ocean. We then crawled through ever more liquid until swimming became easier than crawling. We swam until diving became a necessity. Shthelith, as a very proficient hæmomancer, didn't really have a problem with the situation. He created an air bubble around his head that was big enough to support Nephethys' as well. I, on the other hand, had been left behind somewhat by the increased weight of my hemerite armour. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I saw the two of them drift away as I was completely submerged in the foul-smelling crimson water. It burned in my eyes, blinding me for the time being. I held my breath all the way to the outermost breaking point. I felt the sensation of approaching doom as my mouth and nose longed for air that I couldn't give them. Unable to contain the impulse any longer, I took the first of my fatal breaths beneath the dragging waves. An urge to cough, vomit and let more of the fluid in at the same time. Severe chest pain hit while my body got even heavier from the lungs that would fill themselves up. Nervously convulsing muscles, uncontrollable spasms as a vain effort of my body to get the water out of its system. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Quivering hands and feet, my heart not beating but merely shaking in place. And suddenly the unique condition of hememia took its course. Throughout my blood vessels there occurred strong pains followed by an even more painful release and I could only guess at all the holes it punched in my flesh. I tried to scream but inhaling only meant more agony. Tears tried to form but were suppressed. I didn't even feel half the collisions my body made with the cave walls during my episode within the smothering darkness.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">All this terror played out in less than two minutes. Describing it takes me right back. My throat immediately swells with the crippling sensation of drowning in what was mostly blood. Excuse if my handwriting becomes a little less legible at this point but reliving the experience isn't particularly easy.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As I drifted along, suffering the Divines know how many broken bones, my consciousness was getting closer to failing me. A desire to close my eyes and an overwhelming tiredness commanded my body to enjoy the peace and painless stillness of death. The delirium became the only thing my brain was capable of constituting. Vivid hallucinations of my innermost fears became solid, prehensile figures that stretched out their vile claws in the darkness. I call them the shadow men. And they have visited me a few times during my life already. But this time, the shadow men approached with murderous intent. Their callous, ethereal hands tried to smother me in my feverish coma as the water filled up even the tiniest nooks in my body. And when the abyss reached out from below to drag my soul into the void an unexpected surge of agony set me ablaze with purgatorial anguish. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Through the bloody baptism, I was reborn.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">XII</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I cannot imagine a greater pain, both physically and mentally, than the pain that I've endured during this harrowing episode in the dank, flooded canals of the cove. A pain so thorough, so meticulous in touching even the remotest regions of one's fleshspace, that every fibre that exists within the body aches white hot like a smouldering iron on exposed skin. So purging and overarchingly cleansing that nothing remains where this fire once flared. Nothing but the realisation that there is nothing, neither in this world nor in another, that could even compare to the kathartic torture that it caused. It was in this moment of involuntary metamorphosis wherein I achieved my own apotheosis. I was no mere man in armour any longer.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The first thing I noticed was the hemerite plating that forcibly merged with my skin, my flesh and my bones. Pieces of it broke free and moved around my whole body in ever thinner layers and reconstructed themselves around my internal organs until I was saturated with this material that had turned from a rigid stone substance to a much more flexible thing that could writhe inside me and attach itself to anything and everything. It grew like a plant and would soon cover my entire body, even my head. It grew some form of </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">helmet</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> around it. After this was done, it made everything exit my body as quickly as it could.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Water, mucus, food, stomach acid, urine, excrement - everything besides my and its blood got expelled through every orifice and pore with incredible pressure and thrown into the waters around me. And just like that, I could breathe under my new helmet. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">My first impulse was breathing in as much air as I could and scream the wildest, loudest, most deranged howl that ever exited my throat. I almost went insane during that process. Had I not been in that land for such an extended period of time and witnessed so many things I could barely comprehend I might have gone mad. Thankfully however, I retained my mind in a working state. Not ideal, but it kept me from going crazy. It still does.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">While I screamed, my injuries that I've sustained healed themselves. Broken bones were mended, torn tissue was repaired and reinforced. More and more did I get the impression that I was being </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">sewn</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> to the armour, that it and I were becoming unified. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">After a while I felt myself again. The pain began to ebb and even my conscious thought returned. And so I drifted, getting carried away by the rushing waters.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I can't exactly tell where I woke up. The chamber was dark, moist and cold. Things dripped from the ceiling. I still had trouble to fully understand what transformation had just taken place. I only knew that I lay there in full armour. Yet, it felt less like that and more like an extension of my own skin at that point. It kept me warm and protected inside its hull. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The good news were that I could finally stand upright again. The cavern was big enough to support a grown, male Imperial. Albeit I was Imperial no longer. I became something else. A dæmon beyond redemption cast in crimson. I couldn't even tell what I looked like for I had no mirroring surface nearby. I was afraid to look.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">To relinquish these thoughts I concentrated on moving forward. The room that I woke up in possessed only one exit so I didn't have many choices on where to go. But that also told me that I had been carried by the stream through that opening. Who knows how far?</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Immediately, Nephethys and Shthelith came to mind. They were able to save themselves and probably emerged someplace else. But where? And where was I in relation to them? And where did all the water go? In a quest for answers, I set off to explore the caves on my own. It turned out that the narrow tunnels we had to crawl through were not always straight. To get out of the chamber I had to climb my way up into unknown heights. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">How deep was I</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">? </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A fleeting fear of depths passed by, went as quickly as it came. My new armour made the smothering sensation of having rock envelop the body more bearable and injury-free. In fact, I found that climbing had become much easier as a certain fleet-footedness became apparent. Whatever the hemerite had done to my body had strengthened it.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I climbed the steep tunnel upwards to get to higher ground. Upwards is always good, for even if one stays underground longer it at least doesn't go further down. It was a while before I reached the next, bigger chamber that allowed me to stand again. And therein I saw the reason for the ubiquitous quietude.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The circular room was quite large, with some sort of round well in the middle embedded in the floor and a set of stairs at the far end that led to a rock layer above my head. Said layer protruded from the wall about two meters to allow persons to traverse it. Above the small well in the middle hung a cage, suspended on thick chains, from the ceiling.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">And all of it was covered in corpses.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Left, right, in front, above and below there lay the dead merfolk in their own pools of poisonous, blue blood. For some odd reason was the vista of blue, torn flesh more sickening than the bright red Nirnic folk had - probably because I've gotten used to seeing that sight already. I took a few steps forward and battled my way through the moist cloud of fetidness that hung in the air from the resident humidity and present rot of the bodies. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">To my left I espied a doorway that led to another chamber and not a tunnel. The relief was very brief though, for my ears picked up on a queer murmur that came from that opening. Very hushed at first but its increasing volume told me that something was on its way. I hid myself behind a wall and waited for the visitor to arrive. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I had previously been dependant on Shthelith's overall knowledge of the land to explain to me each horror we came across in just enough detail as to suffice for us to effectively engage it in combat - or avoid whatever threat crossed our path entirely. Only in that moment did I realise how much I depended on Shthelith and his wisdom. Because when it floated through the entrance, I instinctively turned around to face the blood elf to extract some information, some useful tidbit, anything out of him. Alas, I was alone and had to face this horror on my own. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A blue, fleshy sphere with tentacles hanging from its underside and three eyes in front, pulsating, writhing and groaning, flew gently by and examined its surroundings. It appeared to be skinless and its noises were maddening. Listening to its moans and partly suppressed cries was unbearable to me. I still hear it when I remember. I hear it in my dreams, too. Sometimes, the shadow men adopt an aspect of these horrid nightmares and just stand there to scream at me from the darkness. Sometimes, they rise screaming from the burning house, pointing their black fingers at me with zealous accusations of murder and arson.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Fortunately, none had intruded during that moment and my hallucinatory episode had ended with my transformation so that my mind could focus on the spherical thing before me.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I had no knowledge about that creature, no semblance of how it would behave and what it would do should it sense my presence. On top of that I had no idea what </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">I </span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">was capable of as well. So I was forced to think for myself. To examine the crime scene. A skill I almost forgot I had.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The amount of corpses suggested a massacre took place in the room. The lack of any marks on the floor ruled out that some of the bodies were moved post mortem. The lack of footprints suggests that either, one of their own murdered all of them (for they had no feet) or that it was any other entity lacking feet. The dense concentration of bodies coupled with the myriads of bodily injuries also refutes some natural disaster. Closer examination shewed strange impact wounds on the bodies. Not unlike those caused by the Cloudbreaker, but smaller. Either way, all evidence pointed towards that flying, polypous thing being the perpetrator. If not for immediately obvious reasons, then for the fact that it remained amongst so many dead. My conclusion: This thing was dangerous and I'd do best avoiding any confrontation. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I hunkered down behind some stone outcroppings and waited for it to go away so that I could move freely. I still retained no sense of my position, especially in altitude, so I needed a clear path and all the strength I had left if I intended to get out of these caves alive. I didn't feel particularly fatigued at the time but I was convinced that I would drift off to days of sleep if given the chance. I could not possibly go on much longer.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In time it flew elsewhere and I waited one more agonising minute until I was sure it was truly gone before I set off. I snuck around the corner and followed its trail of blue blood. I wondered, then, if that thing was in any way biologically related to the merfolk for they seemed to sport a few similarities. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">It floated slowly along narrow passages that still allowed me to stand. It was rather dark everywhere so I had to watch my head if I didn't want a stalactite to crash into it. Silently I snuck behind it. With some distance, of course. It never noticed me and I am sure now that I probably could have killed it but somehow, I didn't want to take that risk. On the other hand, there was no diverging path in the anthracite rock that I could take to not be in its vicinity any longer so killing the flesh sphere would have probably been the better call. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I was following it because there was no other choice at first. But I soon witnessed other openings into the chaotic tunnel network that would have led me to a different place. But I began to get curious about where the whining, howling thing was headed. Just then, a mumbling appeared off in the distance and the little meat orb and me were going down that path. A few winding tunnels later and we disembogued into a great, subterranean hall that had multiple exits, one on each wall, four if one included the hole we came from.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The thing floated off to the left without noticing I was there. The noises got louder and my gut told me that I made a wrong decision somewhere down the line. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">It hovered through a doorway and I almost followed but managed to stop myself just in time. For the chamber beyond was densely populated with the floating, spherical flesh sacks - in blue </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">and </span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">red.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">———</span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;"><a href="https://theskyforge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/tales-of-darkness-table-of-contents" target="_blank">Back to Table of Contents</a></span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">———</span></p></div>Shape Your Flesh - Episode III: The Three Seals of the Apocalypse - Chapter VI: History of the Sealshttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/shape-your-flesh-episode-iii-the-three-seals-of-the-apocalypse-52020-12-29T06:34:16.000Z2020-12-29T06:34:16.000ZPrimehttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/members/Prime<div><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">IX</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">There have been but few things in my time as head of the IID that burned themselves into my memory. I remember one such case of a pregnant, Imperial woman who had been hung naked from a tree like a fruit. Her unborn was forced outside to dangle just below her on the umbilical cord. "Two people hanged for the price of one!", I remember him saying triumphantly as he laughed in my face. That day I found the true evil that lurks within men. A part of me hoped to find the bandit chief in question, a man feared across many counties and holds, possessed by malignant spirits or even the Daedra themselves. But no, this was just who he was. Some men are born this way. And it was usually men like me to find and persecute them.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I also remember, however, that I violated protocol on that day. For the very first time no less. My men had the ruffians and outlaws at dagger's point as I moved towards their arrogant leader. He knew that it was merely my duty to put him and his ragtag band of brigands in chains to deliver the lot to the nearest county jail. But I had already decided that this man deserved a different kind of punishment. Conveniently, the bandit's smithy was still blazing and I wasted no time to push the leader's head into the fires with my sword's lledge. His screams couldn't bring back the two he had so gruesomely executed. But they were satisfactory enough for me. Thereafter I ordered my men to kill the rest and filed a report for "Resistance against agents of his majesty, The Emperor" and never spoke of it again.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The reason I was remembering this case in particular was because Nephethys, Shthelith and I stood at the outermost perimeter, the divide betwixt the forest and the coast. To our left, we saw the fruits fall from the branches and violently explode from whence came grotesque things crawling towards us that were not entirely unlike the dead woman and her fetus in appearance. To our right the beach of blood and brimstone, teeming with insects the size of newborn guars among the sharp rocks that led to an infernal sea. Far out in the distance I spied a maw as great as Masser devouring the horizon as another, equally as monstrous, fin got pushed underwater. Several holes in the ground amongst the stones and a few fetishes of probably religious purport marked the entrances into the underworld. The three of us had to fight either way but there was only one way forward.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">To slip the attention of the monstrosities from the forest, we decided that it was tactically more beneficial to only have to deal with one group of foes at once. I was the first who took the plunge and slithered down the slope towards the beach. My hemerite armour protected me from injuries by the rocky floor, however the ginormous insects were another problem entirely. After I arrived at the beach I roused about a hundred of these things from their sleep. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Chitin armour as thick as a finger, six legs and sclerotic elytra of an arm's length buzzed loudly around me. These beasts had maws not with teeth but with glands that produced a corrosive substance to liquefy any solid matter for them to drink. In my case, I was the prey and had my fair share of troubles to avoid the caustic spit. Meanwhile, Nephethys chose her own path down and through the field of razor sharp edges for her "legs" couldn't be truly harmed for obvious reasons. Shthelith on the other hand cumbersomely jumped and hopped about, right after Nephethys, to avoid grievous flesh wounds. His magic was useless to him if there was no blood to manipulate.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">But I was yet again wrong about the blood elf. He was much more capable than I thought. To an unsettling degree, even. Shthelith arrived just beside Nephethys on the beach near the coast of the crimson sea as swathes of thirsty insects swarmed us. Nephethys and I did all we could to swat them away, cut them down but it was no use. Shthelith just stood there and gestured about. He then silently recited a prayer in his language and suddenly, a shadow darkened the sky.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The sea rose in a giant, bent column over our heads and came down swirling like a whirlwind. Shthelith broke out in wild incantations and lifted his hands. The blind eyes in his sockets appeared to vibrate as we found ourselves in the center of an aquatic nightmare. Partly transparent blood twisted and wound in a maelstrom of foetor. Through the waters I could make out the silhouettes of strange hybrid creatures and otherworldly species of fish and amphibians that were trapped in Shthelith's spell. With each passing second, more and more of the insects got pulled into the water all around us until there were none left. With another spoken word, the elf commanded the eye of the dead seas to retreat into the deep fathoms from whence it was summoned - and it took all life trapped inside with it.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Left were only the horrible stench and pools of blood all over the rocky beach. Just as if a bloody massacre had taken place where we stood. In both awe and shock I gazed at our saviour. His competence was undeniable. Within Shthelith there slumbered grandiose power waiting to be unleashed. He indubitably saw our puzzled expressions and gave an answer to a question we didn't get to ask.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Blood magicke! Hemomancy. Thou may'st call it such. Lo, the primordial might a capable wizard calleth forth when fate giveth the chance. Thou must know, Thorus, that blood magicke increaseth its pow'r with a greater presence of blood. A hundred soldiers are nothing in the face of a blood mage who knoweth his craft. A sea of blood becometh a wellspring of unlimited destruction."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The implications I drew from his explanation were terrifying. However, it also explained the odour and the way the leftovers behaved on land. Before long, we stepped upon a somewhat sticky crust of dark red material that coated a good bit of our surroundings in response to Shthelith's spell. Now I knew that I had some of the most powerful allies on my side. With both Dunmer and Aímamer, Atebid could be destroyed and the great city of Bendicia taken. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">With that army of adversaries out of the way, we finally set foot into unfamiliar terrain. The many holes in the ground were 90 degree drops into a pelagic netherworld of uncertain depth. It didn't occur to me then that the waterspout the blood elf conjured might have attracted unwanted attention. If there was indeed life down there in the dank, musty depths they surely must have felt something shaking the sea over their heads. In our obliviousness, we looked for a suitable entrance into the unknown caverns that the blood elves called the Cove. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">There were naked holes in the stone floor but also some that had a small hut built above them. Others still sported aforementioned, religious fetishes on a pedestal in front of such a stone hut. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"If thou chooses the right entrance belike it is that we survive", Shthelith said. Apparently, the different holes all marked different entrances into the underworld depending on the purpose of one's visit. "A grand system of caves and tunnels doth exist beneath our feet. Shthelith wouldn't know whither to go. Maybe thy intuition bringeth us thither. Delivereth us to the Seal."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">He proposed I make the first step. This was perhaps the first time I questioned his true motives. I was no stupid man. I was fully capable of nuanced understanding. As such, I realised that a fall into perilous grounds would probably not kill me for my armour was unusually strong and curiously capable of deflecting even the most terrible of blows. If it wasn't, I would have died to the girl in the throne room when one of her tentacles crashed into my chest and threw me into a far off wall. Due to my uncommon, corporeal resilience, I became a test subject for things involving physical harm. On the other hand, it was quite practical to know that my body was not easily broken anymore. All I ever had to worry about was my head for the armour lacked a helmet or mask.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I carefully surveyed the choices laid out before me and ruled out all the holes without any significant features. I didn't feel comfortable with them as I feared they might lead nowhere. I favoured the ones that had the fetishes stand perched atop their pedestals before them. If these are entrances into some religiously motivated underbelly of the land they must be at least safe enough to traverse, I figured. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The little statues seemed to portray extraordinary things I had trouble recognising. Were they lifeforms, items, weapons, symbols? I couldn't tell. Sometimes I fancied I saw teeth and tails, sometimes strange swords or gemstones that all swirled together as one thing. There were eyes and mouths but also pillars and gates all as one entity. I hoped with all my heart these were no gods that the merfolk revered. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Among them, one statuette in particular stood out. It was of a metal gleaming in strange opalescence - dark blue hues mingled with rainbows arranged in disturbingly angular, repeating patterns. Metallic, gleaming squares grew from a central shape that must have, at one point, been a cube. It was of unparalleled purity and looked entirely natural so that there was nothing artificial about it. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I reached out to touch it, as all humans do out of curiosity, and retracted my hand thereafter quickly as strange vibrations prohibited my interactions with it. The object sung a tune in a foreign wavelength, or so Shthelith explained, and did not permit outside interference unless great amounts of power were used to change the wavelength of the wielder. However, we could pass by the object freely and I decided the three of us should go down that hole to explore what it hid. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We stood circumjacent to the abyss before us, at the precipice to the underworld. A horrible stench filled the air as clouds of foulness rose from within. They lived there, in the rot and cold expanses of the hungry caverns below. Just how we'd get down was another question. I could drop myself down and put my trust in the suit of armour that I wore to protect me from the impact. Unless there were devious traps laid out for unsuspecting prey such as us.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys could surely stick her leg blades into the stone walls to slowly clamour downward. And Shthelith proposed he'd sample some of the nearby sea and use it to float down the hole - the way he suspected the locals to do it as well.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I was the first to go and so, I focused my mind on my hand to hold me in place as I tried to climb down the hole instead of letting myself fall. I knew I could use a hook, a needle or a pick to hold on to the surrounding walls and secretly wished for such an object. In that moment, my hand that had been crushed in the jail before, now fused with the bloodthirsty stone, transmuted into a sharp and pointy object, not unlike a traditional meat hook, its make of flesh, bone and hemerite. Even I myself could only just bear to look at this hideous mutation. As I felt a deep repulsion towards the thing that I've created, the object morphed back into the hand that I was used to and the magic was over as quickly as it had begun.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"You never cease to surprise, Thorus. How did you do that?", I remember Nephethys asking with an appropriate amount of wonder. I could only shake my head in disbelief. I didn't know. The existence of transmutation magic had never occurred to me, neither did I know how one would learn or even master such an art. I tried again to focus on my hand while I conjured up an image in my mind of such a classical meat hook to see as to whether or not my thoughts could actively influence the outcome. A few moments later and there it was, albeit a little disturbing to view. An abject amalgamation of sinew, bone and blood in various states of matter shaped itself to form a hook where my hand used to be. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I looked at my other hand with an equal amount of concentration and, surprisingly, managed to do the same to it although it was not the affected hand that first received the blow that would merge stone with flesh. Had the hemerite in my blood begun to infect my whole body? Shthelith beheld this gory spectacle of transmutation with glee as the second hook formed itself from hardened muscle and purulent meat. The sight was enough to make my skin crawl but with a change of thoughts I was able to change the form of my extremities at will.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"A most curious power thou'st been given. By chance no less! Who could have foreseen? Thorus. Thou'rt a blood mage now. If of a less incorporeal sort. A shapeshifter thou hast become thru the sacred stones of my ancestors. A blessing of divine purport doth come over thee and thou wilt find more uses for thy new abilities in due time."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith prophesied limitless power if I would manage to master the tools that fate had bestowed upon me. Now I was able to, in the truest sense of the word, shape my flesh.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">X</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">My newfound capabilities as a shapeshifter proved to be invaluable to our pursuits. Whereas Shthelith and Nephethys had a relatively easy time traveling downward through the hole, I would have had my difficulties if not for the hooks that I morphed my hands into. I wasn't yet able to fully control how and in what manner the things that I envisioned would manifest themselves on my body, however. Notwithstanding a certain lack of control I made my way down the abyss swiftly and without any complications. Although I must say that hacking into the wet rock was quite painful as I had not been fully able to shield my naked flesh from the outside world. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A hemerite armour does not look dissimilar to a 4th Era Daedric armour minus most of the downwards-pointing hook-blades and dangerous embellishments upon the ebony plating. What made both types of armour so alike was the fact that both used blood as a special ingredient in their manufacturing process. However, whereas Daedric armour usually required a somewhat ritualistic use of Daedric hearts (be it from Dremora or another humanoid species or from the various beasts that inhabit the astral planes), hemerite required to be completely and utterly soaked in blood prior to smelting and shaping it. And then the smith must work quickly lest it hardens and becomes nigh unbreakable. Once hardened, the piece can never be smelted again.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Due to the crimson essence in the crafting of these types of armour they do look similar to each other. Hemerite by itself is as black as ebony which adds to the list of similarities. The way a finished piece of armour looks is entirely up to the blacksmith who forged it and many pieces look different because of the haste with which the crafter must work before the material becomes solid.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Only in my case, the material became malleable post forging because of several factors that I never truly understood. All I remember is that it had to do with the way my blood resonated with the world at large and what veins had merged with parts of the rock and at which time and how much blood could nurture it until I awoke. I am certain that there are metaphysical formulae that could explain the back and forth of different forces but throughout my entire time in those forsaken realms, I never came across such scientific documents. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">But that was of no concern to me. I knew that I was now able to bend my physical form to my will and, with practice, could possibly unleash doom upon my enemies. These new tools were the reason I reached the bottom of the hole in the first place. And while regret slowly gained purchase as I drew closer to the ground, I was thankful that I could even reach this far. If I ever intended to leave the Painted World, I had no choice but to go forward.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys and Shthelith were quick to follow me to the bottom. While the large, cylindrical opening that led to the caverns was pitch black, a natural luminescence inhabited the caves proper. We stood in a large, circular antechamber that had in its center what I would describe as a deep pool or well. Probably for the merfolk to dive into when they flung themselves down the hole from the beach. The outlines of the pool, that was just as round in shape as the vestibule we were in, were adorned with alien markings in a script I've never seen before. From the pool ran a straight, narrow tunnel into dimly lit rooms of unknowable contents.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Even from up above, when one stood at the edge of the earthen aperture, one's olfactory senses almost melted with the overwhelming reek of strange kinds of decomposed fish, meat and other organic materials. But the further I crawled down, the less bearable it got. Moist air, thick with rot so that I felt a wet film gather upon the skin of my face. It was somehow worse than the insides of a digesting shredmound, that most damnable of all parasitic life forms I had the misfortune of coming across. The caverns below were warm - as was the sea - to account for the crimson liquid all around. And the inherent warmth was probably the most unsettling feature of this new area.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The ubiquity of blood in the cove didn't help that and it tempted the avid hemomancer to haughtiness and arrogance. An unlimited supply of power at one's fingertips. But Shthelith knew better than to become careless. As he put it:</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Albeit my magicke yearneth to be used utterly at the presence of this much blood I must contain myself. I am not invincible. The merfolk knoweth my kind well and hath develop'd techniques to repel invaders such as myself. Prithee be careful. I am no more stronger than ye are."</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">What these countermeasures looked like Shthelith didn't know. But rumours in his hometown had it that with each passing decade, the merfolk got more skilled at hunting and killing the blood elves that would trespass upon their sacred grounds. It had always been a war for territory.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The Aímamer went on pilgrimage to the crimson sea to pray to their various, blood-related deities and hone their abilities of hemomancy. The beaches were a frequently used proving ground for new spells and different ways to use this school of magic that is seldom even mentioned on Nirn. However, more often than not did the practicing elves desecrate the hallowed sites and shrines the merfolk built and defiled them with complete disregard for the sacred statuettes and religious huts. This did inevitably lead to a conflict that would last a few hundred years and reached its climax apparently only twenty or so years before Nephethys and I were thrust through the painting. At that point in time, the merfolk had battled the blood elves for long enough to know them in and out so Shthelith, even if empowered by all of the blood in the moist caverns, was as much prey to the merfolk as we were.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Elves haven't been seen around those parts in over two centuries but there we were, with a blood elf in tow.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Your race did wage a lot of war against this world's people, didn't they?", Nephethys asked.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Oh, well, the other races did ne'er appreciate our customs. In the end, we were condemn'd frivolous and unnatural. The humans and the merfolk sought our end. They could not accept our ways and would wage war after war. We prevail'd. But our great city lieth curs'd, our hamlets in ruins. My kin, doom'd to wander a wasteland. For this reason I strive to unmake the spell that bindeth Bendicia to an accurs'd existence. Many a place fell to the darkness as ye have seen and travers'd thyselves. And I seek to undo the critical imbalance in time, space and magicke. Thereby ye may return to your home dimension ye call Nirn and heal these barren wastes, rid them of their decay."</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith implied that the three seals might not only unlock the gates to the great city that had been sealed off decades ago. They may also imbue its walls with new power to dispel the various curses that plague the hungering and diseased lands around it. In a way, Bendicia was vital to the entire world. "As long as it is diseas'd, the land will be also. Like a gangrenous heart that striketh down a body foul with illness".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">To an extent, the land lived and breathed through the central temple in the city's heart, he told us. We walked a bit further down the corridor, dodging stalactites and blood drops, as Shthelith told us more about Bendicia. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"In elder days, it is told, the grand city, a shining beacon in the center of the world, shone in the rays of a golden sun. Long ago, the three races of humans, merfolk and my kin, the elves, liv'd as equals within Bendicia's walls. One district for each race, arrang'd in a circle around the great temple. Each race chose one representative that bore the seal of their people."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"The Seal of Bone for the humans, who work'd hard to tend to the earth, forest and plains. The Seal of Blood for the merfolk, who inhabited the netherworld beneath the crimson sea and kept it pure for eternity. And lastly, the Seal of Flesh, bestow'd upon the elves who dwelleth in the mountains, keeping their essence conceal'd to outsiders."</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">He paused. I could see the worry in his eyes as he reminisced about the stories he got told and now relayed to us. "A traitor from long ago, one of my kind, murder'd the keepers of the seals and hex'd them with a devious spell. They lock'd the gates to the city with them and everyone inside died a slow and painful death. Thereafter the wars against the elves began and the traitor was never caught. Now, so many centuries later, the seals found their way back into their rightful places. But the hexes that lieth upon them would forever doom those that sought to protect it."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"It is said that the undead roameth the lifeless halls of Bendicia. And that the lands that formerly protected the seals were no more than twisted death traps now. Haunted by the malformed remains of their people."</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys and I took a moment to let the information sink in. If the stories were right then we trod unhallowed grounds. Just as Shthelith finished his tale, the three of us entered another chamber. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A shipwreck of unknown make was visible to our left, sunken beneath the waves and pulled down into the caves by one of the impossibly big creatures that live in the sea above. A dead crew was still floating about in the subterranean waters. One of many human vessels, Shthelith explained, that tried to find the limits of the damned oceans and failed spectacularly. None of the brave mariners ever came back from their voyages. And the cove would forever be their grave and consume them.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We marched forward on the slippery floor, past queerly pulsating corals and eyed barnacles that had made the shipwreck their home. Weird, stone idols were carved into the wall to our right. I attempted to examine the carved art when I got interrupted by a most unscrupulous visitor with fins, scales, and a particular taste for the flesh of men.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;">—————</p><p style="text-align:center;"><a href="https://theskyforge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/tales-of-darkness-table-of-contents?edited=1" target="_blank">Back to Table of Contents</a></p><p style="text-align:center;">—————</p></div>Shape Your Flesh - Episode III: The Three Seals of the Apocalypse - Chapter V: Foul Betrayalhttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/shape-your-flesh-episode-iii-the-three-seals-of-the-apocalypse-42020-12-04T14:04:51.000Z2020-12-04T14:04:51.000ZPrimehttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/members/Prime<div><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">VI</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Until the last, I had not known the tragedy that had befallen the kingdom that the three of us had trespassed upon. The reason behind all the rot and decay. I only knew that it stood in connexion to the seal of bone that Nephethys, Shthelith and I sought to acquire when we stepped into the woods, through the hamlet before the castle. And on our journey we saw many things, terrifying and unspeakable but none as bizarre as the sight that revealed itself before us in the throne room.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We had asked ourselves just what that infernal steward, if indeed that person served their duty as such, needed a bucket of drained blood for. Why he had gone through the trouble of carrying it up a ladder under the most arduous circumstances. And to our perturbation we found the answer.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Following our egress from the dungeons below, the three of us emerged from a side door of the ginormous throne room that was several times greater than its purpose required. To our right there was the heavy double door that led to the smaller room in between the throne room and the bridge that floated in the void. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Along a blue carpet to the left we saw the two ornate thrones whereupon sat the undead king and his daughter next to him. Around them a vast space that was occupied by an array of various statues that stood against the walls. Carved pillars that assumed the likenesses of knights and guardians created a tangible distance between the tall windows that stopped only short of the high ceiling.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Many torn tapestries, cracked bricks and partly overgrown floor attested the decay of a palace that truly must have been luxurious during its time. But most of the embellishments and decorative features had dissolved, leaving only dust and stains on the carpet. Much like the village around the castle and the forest around the village, yes, even the hungering badlands around the forest, this place was in ruins.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Even so, the rotting royalty persisted and the only two remaining members of a once noble family remained in what time reduced to an oversized sarcophagus. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">To look at these two was to gaze at misfortune and dead dreams. The king sat on his throne, tired, pale, grizzled. An unkempt beard around dry lips under white, heavy eyes stared an empty stare at our appearance. He was alive still but barely breathing. And although I could tell that he noticed us, he seemed to ignore our presence. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">His daughter on the other hand appeared genuinely dead. Only on close inspection could I spot a minute breathing. She was a frail and shrivelled girl. Famished, thin, draped in a white tunic. Long, black hair kept most of her body hidden. But this was by no means our main point of focus.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Above the girl, from the ceiling and suspended by chains, there hung the half-dead corpses of four men. Upside down, with their hairless, teetering heads just above hers. From them, red streams of crimson connected the girl to them, flowing towards her. "Blood magic", Shthelith whispered quietly, acknowledging the queerness of seeing hemomancy around a people who would normally fight against it.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Then, an illusive figure stepped out of the shadows. We had not noticed someone concealing themselves amidst this bizarrery but recognised this man as the nobly dressed steward who carried the blood from the cellar to the surface earlier.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Hither you went without knowing a thing of our fate, travelers", the figure spoke. "And yet, you possess the impertinence to disturb these sacred halls. Do you not see? The cure for our people is at hand! To deliver us from this pestilential curse."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">He gestured towards the girl who, despite receiving this supposed cure, looked more dead than alive. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Through research and application of the kind of magic we used to despise, we brought her back from the brink of death."</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"You mean she looked even worse?", Nephethys burst out, raising an eyebrow in surprise. </span></p><p> </p><p><em><span style="font-weight:400;">"Silence!".</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> The king raised his thundering voice. A feeble man in brittle armour that had lost its former glory rose from the throne. Embedded in his chest plate, a circular stone plate of all too familiar appearance. The seal of bone, there was no doubt about it.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"You do not have permission to speak about my daughter", his shaking voice boomed, "Not a filthy outworlder like you. You do not know the lengths my folk had to go to to find a cure for this accursed hex laid over our people! The torture we've endured, the measures we took. You know nothing of pain. But speak again, and I shall introduce you to it". </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">He threatened an already furious Nephethys which was perhaps one of his worst choices in life, all things considered. </span></p><p> </p><p><em><span style="font-weight:400;">"I know nothing of pain?"</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">. Nephethys burst out in tears for but a moment before the freshly formed pearls of salty water evaporated on a skin burning with indescribable rage. Her dunmeri eyes began to glow red hot in the dim light of the opulent throne room. Her chest rose and fell, and rose and fell again, faster and faster until her clutched fists threatened to whiten her knuckles to the point of tearing her skin apart.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Quivering hands drew the blades that should decapitate the aged, squeamish King just a second later. He didn't even get to draw his stone sword before he began to crumble to dust like the ruins themselves, leaving not even blood on her blade. Only his armour remained and with it, the seal of bone. </span></p><p> </p><p><em><span style="font-weight:400;">This was rather underwhelming,</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> I quietly thought to myself. I've gotten used to real opposition whenever we pursued any particular goal. The scavengers in the wastes, the high priestess Sárka, the Stained Glass Dæmon. Even the lost blood elf in the dungeons put up more of a fight than this presumed king. And yet, I was painfully unaware of the fact that he wasn't really the greatest threat in the room. Nor were the statues he had prepared, indubitably, to assault us. But he didn't get to command them once more.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Even the steward, who appeared strong and capable, grew a terrified look on his face. He anticipated disaster and left the throne room as quickly as he was able to. The daughter, in her throne, remained seated, however. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">How could she even get up and leave? </span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">I thought.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In a flash, her eyelids creaked open, blistering, dried skin flakes flew everywhere. Remains from centuries of dehydration. White eyes lined with pulsating, red blood vessels stared at us in contempt. No pupils in irises from which we could have drawn any hint of her true emotions or intentions but her ferocious expression told us all we needed to know. "The seal, quick!", Nephethys commanded. I ran over to the kingly dust pile and retrieved the heavy stone coin from its cuirass. It clicked as I did and the world as I had known it ended.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">It took a while for our eyes to process as a sudden flash of white clouded our view. Little by little the mist settled and the castle we stood in a moment ago had undergone drastic changes in the short period of time that we weren't permitted to see.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The majority of the walls and ceiling had crumbled away to reveal a jetty black sky, darker than the lead heavens we had become used to. Through gaping holes in the walls it was revealed that the castle itself appeared to float in total nothingness. As if some spell ripped it from our dimension into the next worst thing. Perhaps an elaborate hoax to fool us into submission by despair? However my gut feeling told me everything to understand that I was in a place that should not have existed. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Curses!", Nephethys shouted. "Are we in the Darkness again? I won't falter this time. We need to seek the gate and leave this place lest it consumes us!".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Thou'rt correct", Shthelith chimed in. "Methinks the seal either upheld an illusion or created it. But such power…". The blood elf tried to explain our current state of affairs by inferring that the seal was somehow enchanted to either reveal the truth or hide it from us. To confuse "All ye who taketh the stone" and lead them to their inevitable doom. Either this or the source of the nightmare was the girl herself.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">With all of this commotion going on between us we barely noticed, if at all, the cracking knuckles and falling dust that came from the daughter's throne. Steps of bare feet against cold stone echoed through our minds as we turned to find a pale, famished, naked woman of unfamiliar race standing before us. Her long, black hair covered a great deal of her unmentionables for its length grew past even the thighs. The dead yet seeing eyes stared at us with a hatred so pure that the staring, pupil- and iris-lacking eye by itself was enough to inspire fear in our hearts. There she stood, covered in the blood of the kingdom's people that she drank to stay alive. An abomination worthy of killing. </span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">VII</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The fact that all of us were alive to leave the castle after what had happened in the throne room can be attested to both superior power of will and dumb luck. How had we survived the incursion of terror of such a phantastical scale? How were we still sane enough to continue with our journey? Had all of this even been real?</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Even today I ask my quill and ink this same question for it is truly hard to believe. But I fear the more I remember the events, the more they solidify in my wobbly, unsteady mind and I have to accept their truth. And I have to accept many more truths that I've yet to come to terms with.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Indeed, it should come as no surprise that our little group had to battle itself out of that situation. However, this conflict was unique for two reasons. For one, before us stood a foe even the Imperial army would have struggled against. The other factor was that we did not have all the time in the world to kill this fiend as Nephethys quickly noticed that we didn't </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">fl</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">oat in empty space - we were flung towards an even greater darkness that had by that time already consumed the horizon. There was no telling what would happen to us should we enter whatever that thing was so we made haste to assess the situation. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Meanwhile, the girl herself began to levitate off the ground, her impossibly long hair growing even longer, braiding itself together, solidifying in thick strands of dark grey flesh. More and more of these tendrils emerged from her head, flailing about to reveal her punished, tortured body that </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">should be dead</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> by all that I've learned about humanoid anatomy. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Soon enough, her meager body weight was easily supported by her innumerable appendages of necrotic muscle that was yet strangely alive with a magic blacker than any found on Nirn. She rose several meters above our heads and looked down at us like the importless worms that we were.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The gangrenous tentacles shot forward like a wave of black water on the high seas at night to submerge us in pain and suffering. Nephethys was the first to cut herself free, disturbing the order in the flesh. Shthelith and I followed shortly after, climbing out of the rot around us. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The ground quaked and up through the stone floor came the long, dead arms from her head. Debris threatened to graze our skin and suddenly I wasn't so sure of the bodily protection of my hemerite armour anymore. I concentrated on evading the black, meaty pillars that came from below and overlooked a tentacle that came for me in a sideways swiping motion. I got hit in my guts, appropriately compressed by the kinetic forces of the impact and flung about to crash into a nearby wall just short of a hole in said wall that would have left me falling into the abyss. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The stone behind me crumbled and gave way to the gaping void that almost consumed me as I watched the evasion attempts of my fellows against this onslaught of darkness.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The battlefield, infested with a terrible scourge the three of us had severe trouble hurting at all. Shthelith tried to "tame" the wild appendages with his blood magic for he beforehand cleverly observed hemomancy having been used to sustain the girl's state of being. At the same time, a dunmeri whirlwind of rage plowed through the black ocean of undulating hair-flesh, spraying cut parts everywhere. The grey blood of the tendrils wasn't even visible on Nephethys' tender skin and with unparalleled elegance the dark elf danced her deadly dance of murder against all opposition. And yet, it was not enough.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Blood magic proved to be entirely ineffective against the things and Shthelith was quickly taught to keep his distance as he avoided swift swipes. Nephethys, on the other hand, fought well. Tirelessly she cut down wave after wave of this evil but it kept coming regardless.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The girl seemed to be unbothered by our feeble attempts at retaliation and callously struck each of us down, punishing us for our sins, for theft and murder. Each time we got up again to fight back but our stamina was limited and my breath began to run short after a while. I looked up at her, how concentrated she was to control the tentacles. But my tired body appeared to have caught her attention as I sat down in exhaustion while the raging flesh all around me oppressed my companions who still fought valiantly. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Up from the chaos, a tendril then rose, its tip slowly approaching. I looked directly at it and even though the threat was unmistakable, I kept still. I stood under its spell. Then it touched my forehead. Very gently it set itself on it and I suddenly felt a deep and sharp pain that I cannot describe. It felt like dying. The loss of my own life as well as that of my loved ones combined, drifting forever in darkness. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">All of a sudden I saw my old house again. When before I stood on a hill to view it from afar, stood I now directly before the smouldering ruins of what death I had brought upon my family. None had remained. All of them charred to pieces of coal or skinless corpses. Yet, the cellar remained and my terrors emerged from it. Shadowy things from another realm to haunt my existence. The messengers of my guilt.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I repent!", I remember myself crying, "I repent! I am being punished for my deeds and rightfully so", I said. "I beg your forgiveness!".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As I came to my knees I saw the world around me shatter, the dark silhouettes crumbling to dust. The house dissipated and I was in the warped throne room again, the severed end of a tentacle before me on the ground. I saw my own reflection in the puddle of oily blood. Next to me the face of Nephethys who saved me from this hallucinatory assault.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">There was no time to exchange words of gratitude, for whatever it was my two friends had done during my spiritual absence angered the girl greatly. She let out a screech as we drifted ever closer towards the dark horizon. Her whipping appendages compromised the integrity of the throne room, the pure rage threatening to destroy the very ground we stood on. All over her pallid skin eyes had emerged that looked just like hers, glaring in all directions at once. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A prolonged stay was impossible but the exit door was blocked by her and her unrelenting extremities. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"You", her broken voice then announced. "I will take all of you defilers into the abyss with me."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">With these words, she lifted as many of her arms as she could and let them crash down. Shthelith, Nephethys and I nearly got crushed but found ourselves stumbling instead from the shockwave.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"There, the door!", I then shouted. The King's daughter must have retracted those tendrils to add to her destructive ensemble. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Once more the ceiling darkened with her pulsating tubes of flesh as they readied themselves to grind the stone under our feet. Her last act of revenge against us who so boldly murdered her father. Upon their descent we narrowly averted our deaths but I knew that one more test of durability like that would have the floor crumbling. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Together, we carried ourselves towards the exit as the horror lifted her talons one last time.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"No! No! Murderers! Nooo!", she cried as we opened the door. In that moment, the ground beneath our feet shattered from the impact of a thousand muscular arms and the three of us made it past the threshold. I turned around and saw the grandiose throne room get devoured by the yawning blackness.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Thereafter we made our way back into our reality, past the infernal bridge with the Seal of Bone in hand and a feeling of victory in our hearts. But a certain emptiness did not betray a bitter aftertaste that accompanied our triumph.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">VII</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As we exited the castle that had held us prisoner for so long, we were met with a curious vista. There had afore been a rotting forest of twisted foliage, half-dead corpses squirming and foul mists melting the air we breathed. However, upon our return from the damned burg we viewed a lush copse populated by hitherto unseen flora. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Juicy, green grass grew on the tormented earth where our feet had left marks in the sludge and ooze before. The bent trees straightened somewhat and suddenly carried red and blue leaves and purple flowers. Some specimens even bore large fruit. Together, they cast a protecting shadow over the woods, blotting out the sky. Bushes and little green mounds formed from collapsed houses, a new archetype of landscape. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Flowerbeds dotted the grassy floor. They shone in versatile colours. With petals of red, yellow, white or a very rare pearl and a pistil oozing mostly crimson and azure. An strange scent emanated off of the flowers and I found it exceedingly difficult to resist. Despite all this beauty however, I soon noticed a crucial detail to be missing. As amidst the freshly formed flowers and green, grassy glades there were missing the remains of those who would inhabit these lands. All of the corpses, living or not, had vanished. Nothing remained of the proud, human civilisation and their superior craftsmanship. A race of masons and carpenters, magic deniers and in conflict with the sinister elves who would propagate their gory gospel.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The three of us wandered down the path that led from the castle entrance to a clearing populated by healthy greenery and colourful plant life. The layout of the place was strikingly familiar until I realised that it was that very spot the small part of the hamlet once stood that we came through earlier. The original means of ingress we had taken - a melting house overcome with mould of which the wood was as soft as cotton as a result of tragic deformities - was blocked off. It appeared to have "grown shut". However, the once thick shrubbery that had been plagued by thorns and indestructible roots earlier was now clear. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Magnificent!", Shthelith exclaimed, "the curse appeareth to have been lifted. Ye work was good". Nephethys pointed up to a large nothing next to the castle bridge.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Wasn't there supposed to be a huge throne room and a few watchtowers?", she asked nervously, for the events that had transpired were truly difficult to grasp and understand. But it was gone, along with what I assumed to be its "shadow version". Just how this trans-dimensional disappearance of space worked, I had no clue.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The absence of an entire wing of this structure unsettled the Dunmer deeply. Had we fallen into that bottomless pit we would have been gone as well to whatever place it vanished to. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">To rid myself of these grim thoughts I turned towards one of the colourful flowerbeds. I hadn't seen a proper flower, or any plant for that matter, in days at that point. Or was it weeks? You see, time becomes irrelevant when the colour of the sky never changes. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">This will be the first flower I'll smell in weeks!</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> I remember myself thinking when I went near the beautiful arrangement of petals and grass. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">I wonder what they smell like</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> I thought as I began to kneel down to inspect their olfactory qualities. The Hemerite armour had by then become very comfortable to wear, like a second hide fused to my skin, so I had no trouble bending down to get on the ground. But as I did, I noticed the grass curiously bending towards my knees. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I thought nothing of it. And after all, I couldn't feel the grass because my armour was nigh impenetrable, especially at the knees and shin guards. I had no way of knowing that nature herself intended to warn me. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I placed my nose directly above a blossoming flower with white petals. The crimson nectar was clearly visible. I inhaled, expecting a sweet smell but instead, my nostrils were assaulted by terrible putrefaction and rot. I instantly turned my head away from the pistil but I needed to know more and touched the petals. They were hard yet strangely flexible. Then the pistil opened and revealed not typical ovaries. Instead, an ooze reservoir encased in small teeth was visible.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"These are no ordinary flowers", I mumbled. "They are corpses".</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys, Shthelith and I inspected the flowerbed closely and saw that each of the flowers blossomed with an opened pistil. However not every flower was the same, for there were specimens outfitted with red and soft petals, yellow petals that slowly melted or the very rare pearl that appeared to be as hard as granite. Likewise, there were two types of pistils - one with crimson ooze that would reveal a mouth of sorts; one with azure blue ooze that revealed an eye in the center that darted back and forth.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"What is this madness?", Nephethys whispered with unsteady voice. We had escaped one nightmare only to happen upon another. As Nephethys attempted to get down to the ground in order to examine the queer blossoms she cried out. Her hand with which she intended to support herself on the grass had been stung. The grass itself bent </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">towards</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> her skin and her blood could be seen on its tips. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">All of us looked at each other in response and we couldn't help but look around. Everywhere around us was grass. Flowers that would open and release vile steam, leaves of trees that would begin to drop indefinable liquids. And we suddenly decided that we didn't want to know what it was that the fruits contained. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Don't. Fall.", I then said slowly. Almost paralysed by the ubiquitous threat of impalement we crept towards the only exit. We stood in the center of what used to be a small plaza of the village. Directly in front of us was the now overgrown path to the castle. Next to the great castle walls on the left hand side ran a second path that led into a small arrangement of shrubbery and bushes, out of the village.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Behind us was the barred off mound. A solid wall of roots and ivy. There were visible faint hints of a doorframe and windows but nothing one could feasibly traverse.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We walked on nervous feet and soft knees under thick branches and moist foliage. If we had been more oblivious in respect to the coat of needles under our boots we would have just walked. Instead, every step was taken with the utmost caution accompanied by a scrutinising look above us to avoid any fruits that may or may not dislodge from a tree.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Said fruits were rather huge. Elliptical in outline and a very light beige/rose in colour, they hung at least twenty to twenty-five pertans tall from the 400 pertan tall trees. They looked incredibly heavy compared to the branches that would support them. As if any slight disturbance could cause them to fall.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Based on our previous findings in this new environment we intended to not disturb the forest any further and be on our way. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">However, our oncoming destination would be no more promising. On our way through the thicket, Shthelith instructed us whence that path led and what our next item of interest would be. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Hither this way thou shalt meet the crimson sea and the cove that lay at a beach most foul. Ther thou may'st discov'r terrors from the abysses that surround the main land. It is said the cove leadeth to a world beneath the sea. Ther lieth the seal of flesh or so they say. Buried beneath the deepest fathoms. And this is whence our path shall take us. We require only the strength to follow it."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Upon inquiry, Shthelith told me more about the cove and its inhabitants. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I've never seen it for myself. But my kin went on pilgrimage in elder days. It's quite possible ye meet a few of my kind. As for the oder things that lurketh…", he paused to think and then continued. "I know of queer merfolk that dwelleth in the moist caverns below and great creatures that liveth in the sea."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Just then I recalled the unusual skeleton of a thing that appeared to be equal parts man and fish somewhere in the dry desert and asked myself if we should meet their living counterparts. And if they could be reasoned with or not. As I mentioned them Shthelith explained that the curious merfolk has rarely ever been seen by his kind, alluding to the existence of an underwater society. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Supposedly a path ran through the forest with some acclivity to terminate in a barren hill overlooking the beaches, the sea and the various cave entrances into the wet underworld. From there we would have to climb down a steep incline with razor sharp rocks and possible, carnivorous insects living on the underside of a few stones. A few crude structures, erected by the merfolk, were said to stand in places of importance or special entrances into the subterranean tunnel system.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In order to get there the three of us had to follow a narrow road through the dense woods lined with corpse blossoms (the name we gave the ill flowers) and sharp grass. To either side stood tree after tree after tree, a good number of them carrying those strange fruits high up in the sky just below the tree tops that prevented any real daylight to reach the shadowy ground we trod. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The journey to the hill Shthelith mentioned proved to be blissfully uneventful notwithstanding the devious plant life all around, above and below us. As we finally reached our destination past branches that almost seemed to try and hold us back from leaving the forest we beheld a scenery most disastrous. Yet, we had no time to contemplate our decision in respect to entering the cove for behind us, the fruits began to fall to the ground and the noises they made were enough to convince us to leave.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">–––––</span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;"><a href="https://theskyforge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/tales-of-darkness-table-of-contents" target="_blank">Back to Table of Contents</a></span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">–––––</span></p></div>Shape Your Flesh - Episode III: The Three Seals of the Apocalypse - Chapter III: The Horror Beyondhttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/shape-your-flesh-episode-iii-the-three-seals-of-the-apocalypse-22020-08-03T19:22:08.000Z2020-08-03T19:22:08.000ZPrimehttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/members/Prime<div><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">VI</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I turned around, ready to tell of my newfound revelation pertaining to the strange pages, only to find that most of the volumes that had been present fell to dust as Shthelith's relentless trying had transformed the shelves into small deserts of book powder. Nephethys had aided him of course and so, an entire library's worth of knowledge disappeared. Only a handful of books would remain. But they soon disintegrated as well when we tried to open them up. The only thing that remained intact was what looked like a small map of the area.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">None of the squares or rectangles drawn on it sported any description. Although, judging from the general layout as it was depicted, the three of us must have been to the room on the right that came after the first square that I deduced to have been representing the foyer due to its conspicuous placement of the recognizable Y-shaped stairs.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The map told us also the location of the other rooms we had spied earlier, but also revealed how intricately hidden the various entrances to secret compartments of the burg were.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The leftmost square on the drawing I assumed to be what I proclaimed was a dining hall. Following this logic, there was drawn a rectangle perpendicular to the foyer representing the roofed bridge, thereafter came a set of more angular shapes, five in total of which their placement in conjunction with the castle's outside gave away that at least three of them must be the spires that were visible from afar, in between the branches and leaves of the forest. At the end of it sat one, huge hall. Perhaps a throne room?</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">But there were other, more curious markings scrawled upon the fragile paper that had gone soft with age. There was a circle drawn in the corners of both the library and the dining hall that at first glance evoked the appearance of a snail's house.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Directly attached to these were rectangles drawn with darker hues. By way of keen observation I believed then that the circles were meant to depict spiral staircases. The darker rectangles, on the other hand, had to have been subterranean chambers. This was further reinforced by the idea that I could not fathom how these rooms, especially this large in size, could have been visible from the fort's exterior if above ground.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"A cellar, perhaps a dungeon of some kind?", Nephethys' inquisitive voice was underlined by a stern expression as I laid my theories bare. I was wholly convinced: this was the castle's layout.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I believe so, yes", I replied with a nod, encircling the shadowed shape closest to our assumed position.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"What is this, then?". Nephethys pointed at a darkened area that I had previously taken for a decorative frame to emphasize the importance of the grand room. But as I perused the parchment more thoroughly, I noticed a tunnel that connected this queer, dark space to one of the watchtowers, far in the back.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Either this is a narrow tunnel that runs around the great chamber or…", I suspended my thought to imagine the immense proportions we were dealing with. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Or it is a gargantuan, underground area."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The library we were situated in was quite big for a room of its ilk. Comparable in size to the ground floor of the average Cheydinhal house. However, the subterranean space in question was about ten times that order of magnitude if our estimates were correct. In other words, half a town could be placed down there - minus the roads, trees and wells, of course.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Belike it is this burg's gaol down ther?", Shthelith stated. "Verily, methinks such a thing necessitateth a grand space as is portray'd", he then added.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I surveyed the quality of the paper to ascertain as to whether or not a certain robustness was a part of its features. I fondled the page and folded it whereafter I made it vanish inside my coat, sure it would not break.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I'll take this with me in case some reference is needed later", I proclaimed before I proposed that we examine the corner to the far right of the room. After all, there should have been a staircase there, leading down. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The three of us rummaged through yet more unstable volumes that quickly disintegrated. We had to shove a chair and table aside to reveal a trap door.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Cleverly concealed amidst the floorboards was an opening, shut tight by old, rusted hinges and an antique padlock. Shthelith's and my efforts to pull it open turned out to be in vain, as the hatch would not budge. Mockingly, it sat there, denying us ingress. Nephethys on the other hand, having been the strong, crafty Dunmer girl that she was, made use of her tools and stomped on both lock and door until the entire construct fell apart. It tumbled downward for about three seconds before a loud thud announced its arrival below.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Together, we set out to explore this castle until we would find the object of our search. Of that I already retained a sharp, visual idea. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We descended the rungs that were more like crudely cut outcroppings embedded within a cave wall into the darkness beneath our feet. The trip didn't take particularly long, much like the Chapel of Sárka. But after my feet connected to the ground of that dank room I would immediately regret my decision. Plagued by mephitic vapours were we, struggling to keep our heartburn and overall nausea in check and their consequences at bay.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The stench of incredibly old blood, dried, stale and rotting, in conjunction with an overall air of death made my saliva grow thick and heavy, viscous and sickly sweet. I chose to spit it out rather than trying gulp it down. My friends suffered through a similar experience as we felt our way forward the first few meters. Shthelith conjured an illuminating flame in front of him to guide our way.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Wasn't there supposed to be a staircase?", Nephethys finally asked. I shrugged and explained to her that I had no idea of the symbols used in extradimensional cultures. Notwithstanding our unexpected lack of knowledge we pressed on and saw that we moved along an odorless corridor that made a left at its far end, possibly to lead into the main room that the three of us expected. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The almost diseased cobblestone leaked greenish secretions from within its joints and the mossy fractals within its coarse surface. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The light of the torch spell got reflected off a slippery-looking film that had developed on the wooden support beams embedded within the walls. Drops of the slightly oily substance accumulated in small pools beneath the rafters that hung above our heads.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I inadvertently slipped and almost fell to the slimy floor had it not been for the blood elf who prevented my fall. He stabilised my footing, grabbing around my chest and clinging to some of my cloth. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Albeit of rotted appearance, this space seemed to have been infested by a different kind of rot that was quite hard to directly take note of. When we finally reached the proper entrance into the main room, we were educated about the nature of the omnipresent foulness and the peculiar rot that was present there.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"By the gods…", Nephethys aspirated. The sound of dripping water was clearly distinguishable - and all the more maddening for it. My feverish cough interrupted the morbid soundscape for a moment as I viewed the prodigious number of lined up, naked, bleeding bodies.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Buckets underneath their heads. The source of the infernal sound that rapturously writhed inside my brain. The countless, empty sockets glared at us in disbelief from the black void that surrounded them. Tongueless mouths formed voiceless words. Tearless sobs converged with quiet groans.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The stench of blood was detestable. But why was it collected in this manner? And whence came it from? The inhabitants of the nearby woods village appeared to be entirely bloodless. In this dank, moist chamber, the racial features of the unfortunate victims were too hard to determine. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We slowly slithered in betwixt them and beheld barrels stacked on top of each other. I inferred that this must have been some form of wine cellar in the past. Now, only crimson water was stored here. Lacking any new revelations, the three of us turned to leave.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Distant steps prompted us to delay our exit somewhat. We chose to conceal ourselves behind the barrels to spy upon the intruder. The spell was extinguished, the blackness devoured all once again. Part of it got smothered under the oppressive radiance of a sick torch when a remarkably dressed man carrying it entered the room.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">His attire told of nobility, if a bit sullied and worn. Silken gloves laid the fiery stick on the ground next to the entrance. It cast just enough light to make the first line of tortured souls visible. A finely sewn, green dress approached the hanging bodies. Sturdy boots came to a halt in front of one of the buckets. The figure then proceeded to cover its opening with a lid that slid in place and sealed the container with a reassuring </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">click</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">. He bound a rope to the bucket and would hoist it along his back over his shoulders.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Only at that moment did I realise that the body he had taken the bucket from had not bled for a while. But notwithstanding its lack of blood, it still breathed and suffered inexplicably. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Meanwhile, the sinister nobleman trod towards the torch, picked it up and left us in almost perfect darkness again. We stayed hidden for awhile longer, listening to the clamour the man produced as he went up the ladder with his heavy load in tow.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The noise died down and Nephethys, Shthelith and I made for the exit. Whoever this man was must have had some connexion to the Undead King. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Intent on following him, we rushed, as silently as possible, towards the ladder and ascended. Alas, we came too late, the mysterious figure already out of sight. Everywhere we looked, we could not find him. He just disappeared. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">That strange noble must have passed by the library as evidenced by the trail of blood that was left. But the traces ebbed shortly after the library and his disappearance left us utterly clueless. We were left no choice but to explore further. To plumb the depths of a murky castle. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The next, logical choice was the dining room to the left of the staircase but after a thorough investigation we found that it yielded nothing of value to us. We noticed also that the map I had obtained seemed to be at least partly false. According to it, there should have been a spiral staircase or a ladder in that room. It was missing entirely. But I was certain there were other means of accessing the underground chamber that was depicted on the paper I held.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The central road to and across the bridge remained as the last, possible path that we hadn't explored yet. We were surprised to find that the door to it was unlocked.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The soft creaking of old wood and rusted hinges accompanied it as it swung open.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As we went over that bridge, we found that it had gotten dark. Night must have fallen, for we saw only dark skies illuminated by a moonless light that made our artificial torch obsolete.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Truly, the details of the surrounding landscape were entirely obscured. In betwixt the great pillars that sustained its roof of stone I saw only empty space and a metal railing to prevent any curious souls from falling into the woods below. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">But there was something strange about it as we crossed the bridge. It took a while before I noticed it. Finally, I discovered to my horror that, looking down, there weren't actually any woods for someone to fall into.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Only a gaping void that threatened to consume us. A cold, lingering blackness. The same kind of blackness, in fact, as the broken rose window of the Chapel of Sárka had held.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"There should be trees down there!". Nephethys nervously cried out. "Where, by Oblivion, are we?!". Her eyes bulged just enough so that they seemed uncannily big as she said this. Observant as I was, I noticed the increasing pulsing her tissue in between her collar bones was displaying. She attempted to hide it, but having stepped into a place so unlike the world of Nirn that we know so well frightened her on a much more profound level than was readily apparent at first glance.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"This… it cannot be. This void. Is it… is </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">this</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> the darkness?". An unmistakable snort of sticky mucus announced big, round tears to run off her cheeks only to freeze mid-fall.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"The Darkness of Sithis. Have I pledged my soul to a place like… like </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">this</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">? I don't want to be trapped in eternal nothingness!".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Her nervous breakdown was only seconds away, I felt it. The sheer hopelessness, laid bare in an uncaring void that did neither laugh at nor comfort the despairing Dunmer. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Her kneecaps crashed against the floor as despondence claimed her. Moments later, she stood on her blades again, her face wet in the wake of sorrow. "What have I done to myself?".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"We will find a way to renounce your oath, I'm sure of it", I intervened, "But for now, we must focus on leaving the world we are trapped in. Take my hand, I will wipe away your fears". Her tears dried on my skin and a more determined, albeit subconsciously worried, expression returned to her face. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"You're right. I can't afford to not escape before I concern myself with my Brotherhood past. But promise to help me in finding a way to escape the clutches of darkness as well."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I nodded. "Of course!", I said. If I had known that this would never come to pass, by the Divines, I don't know what I would have done.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Blood elf! Where are we?".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">She demanded answers. As did I. But Shthelith was only an inhabitant of that world, not its creator. Nevertheless, he provided an answer that was at least in part satisfying.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Some gates, be they windows or doors, doth appear to be hex'd. Look not in bewilderment as I say, they are transform'd. Ye and I, we stepp'd into the dæmoniac domain of the abyss whence that glass dæmon came and where many a terror lieth".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The vista was as awesome as it was terrifying. If we were indeed transported to this darkest of places it would explain that feeling that suddenly rushed through my veins. It was… it </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">is </span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">maddening to even try to think of a way in which to convey it. Like a rotting cold that emerged from my chest and covered the entirety of my body. Like a nauseous breeze, an emptiness that sought to fill itself with my soul.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The oscillatory discrepancies and inconveniences I had hitherto experienced in certain places paled in comparison to the repelling, uninviting air that would strain every fibre of my body, telling it to leave at the earliest opportunity. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The only thought that continuously boiled within my brain was: </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">I should not be here.</span></em></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Should a place like this even exist? What </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">is </span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">it? I lacked any answers to this question. However, I knew for certain that I had a strong desire to leave. Yet, so stunned was I, so captivated by the otherworldliness, that the simple act of moving myself forward proved fiendishly impossible. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Off in the nebulous distance, a </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">thing </span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">arrested my attention. Standing between the supporting pillars I looked. Far beyond where I stood, an amorphous cloud moved back and forth. Weird appendages and an overall shapeless appearance characterized the thing. It was partly transparent which permitted me to view a red, pulsating mass underneath its greyish exterior. The closer it floated, the less comprehensible it became. Before long, my mind reeled with countless eyes, mouths, tendrils and other, more foreign extremities. My vision gradually darkened. I received a push from behind and lost consciousness. </span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">VII</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I regained my senses sitting with my back against a wall in another room. To either side towered my companions, inquisitively eyeing me up and down. My vision sharpened and I saw a grand hall before me. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">This must be the big room beyond that infernal bridge I saw on the map</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">, I reminisced briefly.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"You fainted", Nephethys explained in response to my thoroughly confused face. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Indeed! Thou hast mumbled of a tenebrous being mere seconds afore. What was it thou hast laid thine eyes upon?", Shthelith pried as if he already knew what I was going to reply. Notwithstanding my curious suspicion, I answered. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"It was… formless, yet of clear outline. Its existence seemed to be ambiguous. As if the very premise of its presence was a topic for debate. A converging </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">something </span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">of eyes and tendrils and other limbs and so… so…".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The harder I focused on this vague afterimage of a memory, the more it slipped from my mind what it was that I tried to describe. Finally, I resigned. "I can't remember".</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"The denizens of the dankest reaches may be unfathomable. But thou didst glimpse it. Thy friend and I, we were oblivious. We could not see, yet thou could. Remarkable.". Shthelith looked on in amazement. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Did I see something that was invisible to my companions? If so, why? And what did I see? Each new revelation held many more questions than answers. But I had no time for contemplation of the unknowable. We had to make haste if we were to ever leave this accursed world.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Ready hands helped me to my feet and when I stood again, I examined the hall that lay beyond the bridge. It was not unlike the foyer, albeit twice its size. A surprisingly well maintained carpet, defying the general air of antiquity, stretched from the entrance to the center, assumed a circular shape as it wound around a water fountain, and went on past it to stop right under the set of doors on the opposite side.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">To my relief, the tall, stained glass windows shewed the outside world rather than a nameless abyss of outer spheres.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">However, I was alarmed at the amount of knightly statues that lined the walls, filled the empty spaces in betwixt windows or guarded the carpet circumjacent to the fountain. I prayed to the Divines that none may come alive. I was unsure of success in battle against this many.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The hall was lit by two round chandeliers that hung from a flat ceiling. Aside from the, hopefully decorative, statues, the most notable features were three wooden doors, two of which led to the adjacent watch towers on the left and right. The remaining door led to the largest overground chamber of the entire structure if my map was any indication. I believed this to be the throne room.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Rather than dashing right for it, I instead spied a small opening in the floor to my left. Upon closer inspection, it revealed itself to be the missing, spiral staircase that was wrongly placed on the map. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Again, there were many ways to go but we would collectively decide that venturing down the narrowly winding stairs would be best. Aside from the promise of treasure or other, more useful, items, according to the plan I held we were to encounter no other exits or entrances inside the underground space. And this circumstance made our task easier to bear, if only for the premise of not having to explore even more rooms.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We left the grand hall unattended for the moment, still hoping that the men and women of stone would not suddenly spring to life as their brethren did in the foyer. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As we arrived in the chamber below, it was, again, quite dark at first. But in the oppressive murk I believed I saw the outline of an occupied torch sconce. Quick to ignite the flame, I tinged the area a yellowish orange as copious amounts of racks, locked, glass cases, chests and tables appeared to display weaponry of a most interesting sort.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Whereas Nirnic folk would normally resort to various, different metals, or perhaps the bones of particularly resilient beasts, the inhabitants of this world relied on stone as their element of choice instead. In spite of its brittle premise, from afar it was already clear that this was by no means an ordinary type of mineral. In fact, all of the carvings and architectural ornaments appeared to have been fashioned from that material. Including, of course, all of the arms and armour contained inside this chamber which I could with absolute certainty call an armoury. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Hemerite…", the blood elf mumbled. "All of these here arms are forg'd from a mineral call'd hemerite. 'tis quite the unique substance found within deep layers of the earth. It hath a dark crimson hue when observ'd in natural deposits but if bak'd and form'd by the hands of a capable blacksmith its shade goeth grey. Don't let thyself be cut by one of these," he pointed at a short sword, "as it consumeth thy blood upon incision to nurture itself. Whomever Smith hath long ago crafted these, they could have done unspeakable things to my kin".</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Curious, I went ahead and carefully touched some of the armour pieces. Gently letting my palm get a feel for the surface of this foreign material. It was surprisingly smooth to the touch and incredibly lightweight. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Make no mistake, Thorus. The golems we fought were chiseled from actual stone, not hemerite. It doth explain the heaviness of their weapons".</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith went on to say that this hemerite mineral had two outstanding properties. For one, it could drain its victim of blood by sucking it up like a sponge. Its second, unique property was it not beinh heavy at all despite being obviously a kind of stone and highly resistant to damage. Shthelith told me that is because of the way it is treated during the crafting process.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"The semi-fluid the mineral holdeth within doth escape while smithing, draining colour and weight".</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I pondered long and hard but eventually made up my mind. Several minutes of fitting later and atop my hitherto tattered appearance there now lay remarkably durable stone plates.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In spite of its nature, I could move freely and easily. I wouldn't give up my gladius, but I added a small hemerite dagger to my tiny arsenal of weapons.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Finally cast in armour, I, along with my companions, made my way out of the armoury, up the spiralling steps and back into the hall. From there we planned to go straight ahead and confront the King. But as we emerged from beneath the earth and stone, we found that the poses and positions of all the statues were off.</span></p><p style="text-align:center;"> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">———</span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;"><a href="https://theskyforge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/tales-of-darkness-table-of-contents?edited=1" target="_blank">Back to Table of Contents</a></span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">———</span></p></div>Shape Your Flesh - Episode III: The Three Seals of the Apocalypse - Chapter II: The Forlorn Castlehttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/shape-your-flesh-episode-iii-the-three-seals-of-the-apocalypse-12020-05-11T10:37:46.000Z2020-05-11T10:37:46.000ZPrimehttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/members/Prime<div><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">III</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The view was both a relief and a grave concern. "There is a good chance this place is infested with the undead scourge as well", I cautiously stated as I examined the grove before us.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Thine assumption may be correct", Shthelith chimed in, hand on his exsanguinator that hung loosely from his belt. "We must exert utmost circumspection", he pointed out with his finger that was prone to point at many things as of recently. Nephethys once again stayed silent and only acknowledged our commentary as we slowly approached the hidden habitat.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">An entire area must have been deforested. The small, empty village we laid our eyes upon occupied a spot wherein were still visible the remnants of many tree stumps. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">All of the huts were built from wood and most of them were overgrown with moss, the hardiest of plants that apparently even survived a deathly curse in relatively intact condition. Others were in serious disrepair, still more 'fused' with the ground or some nearby vegetation. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Taking in the atmosphere of this eerie place we were taken aback when we discovered remains of houses even among the great number of trees that surrounded the grove, indicating that it used to be many times larger than what our group got to witness. It made for singular implications that fully grown, great trees would tower above the moist earth where houses used to stand, how they got elevated over the centuries to evoke the impression that nature herself had impaled the man made structures.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">It truly made me wonder just what happened here but alas, we lacked the time for proper historical examination. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"So it is true…", Shthelith mumbled to himself. "The undead settlement lieth here after all. Shthelith hath heard only rumours pertaining to its existence. But to see it with my own eyes…". He pondered for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought before he would quite joyfully proclaim: "We are on the right path. This here village doth stand circumjacent to the burg we seek.".</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As relieved as I was for being on the right path, this revelation also brought with it a certain anxiety, was the thicket surrounding the grove nearly opaque with dense plant life, however dead it may be. It permitted any, possibly predatory, life form at all to retain perfect concealment. Indeed, if yet more unliving things dwelt around the clearing we stood in, we may not get around fighting at least a few of them.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As it was, Nephethys, Shthelith and I settled to stall not and proceed, however unsure of our success we may have been.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"There is no telling of what might hide its presence within these old trees", Nephethys chimed in, spelling out what I've been thinking. Her resolve was more resolute, though. "Are you two up for the task?", she followed up with a devious smile, no doubt relishing in the idea of bloodshed. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith and I nodded, uncertain as to the exact meaning of Nephethys' gesture, whereafter we made our way into the thicket, out of the peaceful grove, and unto woe and misfortune. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The air itself turned against us as we passed by the broken dwellings to delve into the evil foliage. A prevalent mist forced us to inhale a foetid stench ripe with decomposition. It was incredibly damp, not dissimilar to the inside of a shredmound, and my skin felt mouldy from the continued exposure to this utterly heinous gas that has proclaimed itself lord where clean, clear air used to reign. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The three of us had no choice to cover the lower part of our faces with some cloth to shield our nostrils from the befouling influence. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">All too soon, my garb became moist while my boots began to sink into the ever more hydrated ground that was just as rotted as everything else.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Several cumbersome steps through sticky, putrescent mud and a few fits of coughing up the liquefied compost that appeared to put down roots into our lungs later, we arrived at a small hut, barely recognizable as such, for it was almost completely fused with the surrounding nature.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">It had been largely assimilated by the web of roots, branches and bushes that would prohibit us from progressing further unless we were to enter this mushy looking building in front of us.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The wood that constituted the dwelling gave off a curious, vile steam and was sickeningly soft to the touch so that my hand print embedded itself into the surface, leaking a thick fluid that covered my palm and nails. I was sure that we could easily chip away at its walls, given enough time. And a spoon.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The disgusted frowns of my companions spoke volumes about their olfactory disposition towards the malodorous conditions. Their efforts to avoid the nigh fungal composition of the house amused me slightly, notwithstanding my own aversion to it.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We went inside to find that, stunningly, most of the furniture was intact, overgrown as it was, but not nearly as absorbed as the exterior.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I strained my eyes in the damp darkness in my struggle to make out the shapes of the furnishings. Moving across the room proved to be quite difficult for clearing away the vines that got entangled in my hair gave me some trouble in addition to my feet that were prone to sink deeper with each step I took.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">When my vision had properly adjusted to the murk that the area seemed to be soaked with, I could finally behold the cubic room for what it was. Majorly rotted walls and ceiling were the most immediately noticeable features, next to a round table and two small chairs, all of which coalesced with the soft floor. Atop the table there were visible two piles of nondescript ooze that, presumably, used to be edible judging from their positioning. Further in the back, past the green-greyish strands of bio matter that leisurely hung down from above us to frequently intrude upon my coiffure, I espied what looked like a door. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">Hopefully to the outside</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">, I thought.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I could barely breathe in enough air to speak as my tongue got defiled with the all-engulfing vapours, in an effort to point out the possible means of egress, when my ears picked up on a noise so unlike the remainder of the hitherto experienced soundscape that I had the stale rot linger in my mouth, involuntarily so, to stop and listen.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A lurching sound emanated from the shadows to our left, prompting Nephethys and Shthelith to follow my example. I perused the prehensile gloom over yond fastidiously. I was so concentrated that the ensuing wrinkles on my forehead started to burn formidably. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I could make out a faint outline as it moved there. Anxiety began to take its place where curiosity had afore been.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys threw me a doubtful, teasing look with a benevolent grin that shewed her white teeth and red tongue. She turned and wandered towards the figure barring hesitation. I knew that she had been waiting.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Hungrily, prowling about, preying on it, she strode with divine elegance. A glittering, crimson lustre playfully wrapped itself around her hand to shed light on the poor undead who would writhe in mid-air as it hung from a noose like the others had before.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A sorry creature, naked, falling apart, gasping for air, only a few strands of hair on its head. Who knows how long it had hung there? I pitied the thing in its immortal imprisonment, unable to escape this nightmare. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The meaty atrocity moved for a couple more seconds before a pike of bright blood, coagulated to the point of hardening into a sharp spear, shot out of Nephethys' glowing palm to impale its heart and melt a moment later.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Perhaps it was mercy that she enforced on the thing as it struggled and toiled perpetually before voicing a sigh of relief with its dying breath.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I realized that the Dunmer sought to protect me from harm. My squeamishness was irredeemable no doubt. Yet, I believed that these living corpses posed no threat on their own. If anything, they were begging for release.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">With radiant eyes, Nephethys returned to my side, smiling warmly at me where there previously had been a greedy thirst for murder. In the end, she cared about my safety and made sure that I noticed. A soft pat on my head, a gentle caress of my chin. That was enough to blow away my worries for a moment. A gesture of kindness that brought new hope to my troubled heart.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I didn't notice until after her act of questionable heroism that my mouth felt incredibly viscous from the inside. I opened it and the fumes I held seemed to have somehow merged with the saliva to form a thick, foul clump of steaming slop that I made exit my body as quickly as I could. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The taste would linger, however. A sensation that felt as if it was never intended to be tasted, an indescribable cesspool of death would persist and churn betwixt my teeth for a few hours. All food I would consume was ruined.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">After the unfortunate thing breathed its last, we resolved to open the door in the back of the room, eager to flee from the vapours that sullied our bodies with every second of exposure.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">IV</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The incredibly feeble, wooden door fell apart as Shthelith placed his hand on the knob. Slowly, it would collapse in on itself under disturbing smacking of the wood that had become a sponge for pestilence. It revealed a panorama of utmost despair shewing a forlorn people and I was struck by the impression that the three of us were in no immediate danger at all. For there were no wild hordes of the unliving to prey on our flesh.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Instead we were greeted with sorrow.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Before us stood many an overgrown house around a central path that led to the fort that we were after. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">But what made us stop dead in our tracks was not the amount of habitats that surrounded the fortress, nor was it the air of death that so oppressively hung over our heads.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We encountered throngs of live corpses, ravenous from centuries of famine and neglect. Most of those that were in our way appeared to be partly melded with the moulding ground of the forest. None of them could leave their spot as they all clawed hungrily at the sky under pitiable moans.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Their bodies were seemingly drained of all water and most flesh which resulted in an exceptionally famished look, even for the undead.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Their warped, almost concave, likenesses told of limitless agony while they helplessly flailed about to do anything at all.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Our feet pushed up the murky water from within the sick earth, taking a few steps forward, past the creatures, on our way to the castle. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Their white, hazy eyes followed our every move, collapsed and partly dissolved pupils scanning us as the army of hairless, and in some cases skinless, heads turned our way.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The tugging at my legs from the diseased digits that beckoned me to stay and keep them company in their ceaseless torment unnerved me greatly, for I pictured myself in their place. My gut revolted at this cogitation, even more so as I gazed back towards the house we've just emerged from to find the hanging corpse in its usual spot, once again struggling for air. The same being that I could have sworn Nephethys killed just a moment ago.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">And I realised that none of us could help these lost souls, damned as they were to keep on toiling forever. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I shook my head, my lips involuntarily made a frown. Mucus filled up my nose and ran down my face to be loosened by my quivering jaw while the lump in my throat grew in size. It was tyrannizing. I struggled to breathe myself now, and the idea of doom in my head worsened the more my understanding of this world deepened. But I still could not fathom just how it would be to endure this for as long as they have. And I didn't want to.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Treading along the nearby homes of the lost, we collectively gulped when we witnessed more of them writhing in their beds holding them captive. They tried to leave their houses. On the floorboards they would crawl, ultimately too weak to move more than a few millimeters at a time. And much too weak to open their doors - that is, if they even made it that far. The unified groaning and troubled wheezing drowned out all other sounds.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We kept going, but not without difficulty. I personally found it especially hard to avert my eyes from all the torment around me.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Crushed, dead flowers gathered beneath our soles and soon, I could breathe more clearly again. I took my first, deep current of air through my freed nostrils when Shthelith held up his hand.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Strain your ears", he commanded, "I hear something. A voice. Somewhere".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys and I halted and listened. A furtive whisper, emanating from one of the living corpses that lay flat on its stomach in front of us, its back overtaken by oozing greenery, its limbs moving gently from side to side. Completely devoid of strength, as if the simple act of speaking was enough to wear out the poor thing, it voiced a plight to us.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Please, help us…". A diminishing cloud of breath was aspirated from its shaking jaw. "The King… he… the gift from the…". It coughed vigorously and expectorated an unknown substance before it was able to continue.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"He accepted the gift that . . . that doomed us. He was . . . too weak. Please, help us. Save . . . save our souls from . . .". Its bleak, lifeless eyes shed a tear. "From this nightmare. Aaaahhhh…". It exhaled and died. But I knew that it would return again to experience the invariable torture once more.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Meanwhile, Nephethys was touched by the poor creature's plea as she covered her mouth with her palm. "What is this gift he spoke of?", she asked and turned to Shthelith for answers. He shrugged and enunciated:</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Belike the Seal of Bone we seek. It is the only thing that cometh to mind". He twisted his head to gaze at the fort.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Perhaps that seal turned these people into ghoulish undead?" I hypothesized, tapping my chin. I received an acknowledging nod from the blood elf. "It doth seem possible".</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Let's not lose any more time then", Nephethys' voice trembled. "We… we should get moving. Now". Her unease was undeniable. Seeing her like this filled me with sadness, but at the same time I got reassured that she still retained her empathy. I laid my arm around her shoulders and together, we went across the road, getting closer to our destination. </span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">V</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The burg wasn't far off now. Shthelith, Nephethys and I could already see the stout stone walls that stood out proudly from the rest of the scenery. Even in its disrepair did it look quite opulent. Great, tall windows of stained glass, adorned with beautifully carved buttresses of ruined marble, a hint of golden embellishments on the finely chiselled statues that were fashioned to evoke the appearance of trees, their branches framing each and every window to run upwards like petrified veins to disembogue into a great many stone flowers sculptured upon the terribly worn brickwork. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Its pompous gate was left ajar to a small extent to permit ingress. The great doors bore a family crest on them, similar to the glowing tree décor found in various Ayleid ruins, hanging from their crowns apples of gold, all of it imprinted into the wood that appeared much sturdier than the huts that we came by moments ago.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We approached it and pulled at one of the doors with our combined strength to dislodge it from the ages old rust that had eaten itself into the hinges. I flinched once when a tiny splinter burrowed itself into my finger while we were at it, but steadily we kept tugging until the opening was great enough for us to fit through. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Cautiously we entered a grand, albeit crumbling, foyer telling of lost grandeur seldom beheld in this world. My mirror image contemptibly glared at me through the reflective black marble floor.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">For the first time ever since Nephethys and I had been stranded here, I got a proper look at myself. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">Oh dear</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">, I remember thinking, </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">How mangled I've become. </span></em></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The wrinkles on my face had, over the time that I had spent there, turned into deep crevices. My overall complexion was slender and diseased with a sickness impossible to put into proper words that could convey the true extent of the externally perceptible raggedness I had contracted. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">My hair was interspersed with multiple sorts of filth, both of animate and inanimate nature, that would float downward to gather on my slim shoulders when a breeze would cause it to sway.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">My eyes had sunken deep into my skull that housed an exhausted brain and I reckon I witnessed my irises having become bland of colour the longer my gaze would rest on the image of a man who appeared just about broken. The terribly unkempt beard concealed a familiar likeness that I was otherwise so used to. The skin had lost its lively glow. I had to remind myself that I stared at my own reflection. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">This is me?</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I got lost in my own eyes, daydreaming about past events. </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">How did it come to this?</span></em></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys woke me from my delusions. She placed her hand onto mine. "Hey, are you alright?". She then cast her glance to the ground, then back at me. "I see", she said before caressing the hand she held. "Don't worry. As soon as we are out of this mess we'll take a nice bath together."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Her efforts to reassure me with a cheeky comment and snappy, inviting smile succeeded as I was once again reminded that there was something to live for after all. Past the terror and madness, however tired I was of all this.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I steadied myself and abandoned the corrupted figure in the floor to instead shift my focus onto the grand flight of stairs before us that we had yet to ascend.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">From the centre of the foursquare foyer stretched a sullied, regal, blue carpet all the way from the bottom of the stairs to their respective tops, two in number for the upper half of them was split for the construct to assume a Y-shape.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith, however, seemed to be far more fascinated with what decorative masonry stood about. To either side and in the back of the windowless, lower compartment of the room there towered proudly the images of knights and clerics cast in stone.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In regular intervals they lined the walls and two particularly outstanding specimens had been placed to the left and right of the stairs that we wished to climb. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Exemplary craftsmanship", Shthelith enthused as he let his fingers run across the cold, rough surface of the knight in front of us, to the right of the ornate, stone railing that led upwards. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"As if it liveth surreptitiously beneath that coating of rock".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In response, I was left no choice but to eye the intriguing statue more closely. It really did seem as if a previously alive knight had been petrified to accessorise the room, forwhy the paper thin cloak, intact even after supposed centuries, hung from the back of a grey armour that looked almost wearable. Just like I could take it off of the thing to don it myself. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I could perhaps even take his sword if I were to dislodge its tip from the ground it has been driven into. Maybe I could move the hands, cast in durable gauntlets of stone, away from the blade's hilt and just.. take it.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">My fascination quickly gave way for bewilderment as an unfamiliar voice droned through the hall.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Who disturbs this accursed place?". The voice was deep and raspy and told of advanced age. However, I was incapable of locating its source as it appeared to come from every direction at once. "Thieves. Begone. Or die."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Perplexed, the three of us looked at each other with varying degrees of confusion spilling out of our faces. We couldn't just abandon our task. So at the behest of our own good, we each took a step forward to ascend the stone steps. To our misfortune, it proved to be our undoing as the voice's patience dwindled, giving a command to his servants. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Wardens. Do your duty. Protect the burg and expunge these vermin!".</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Mere seconds thereafter, having already begun our ascent up the stairs, we got interrupted by the noise of chafed stone and trickling dust behind us. To our surprise and chagrin, we found that the two knight statues in front of the stairs were indeed guarding them. They pulled their swords out of the ground and advanced in our direction with heavy steps.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"We can take them", Nephethys confidently proclaimed with this crimson lustre dancing around her hands again. It was not long until the great guardians were in range, dragging their heavy feet to form cracks in the floor whenever they landed. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Two blood lances struck the heads of the approaching golems, but to no avail. I witnessed a great stone hand take Nephethys by the face to hurl her across the room to the foot of the great entrance gate.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Hemomancy doth not take effect on these constructs. We must resort to more physical means", Shthelith noted. He unsheathed his exsanguinator, I drew my gladius. I cursed myself for all the wasted iron balls way back when we still fought the horrors below the Imperial City. I really could have used the Cloudbreaker in this situation. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The golem that had just thrown my favourite dunmer now jumped towards Nephethys and raised his gigantic blade. She still struggled to get up and appeared defenseless otherwise. The obtuse stone weapon, about the length of a normal person to accommodate for the great size of the moving statues, fell down from above, threatening to crush her under its weight alone.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In the last second, Nephethys raised her legs to deflect the assault using her bone blades. Her muscles would tremble under the extreme pressure of keeping her doom at bay, at least for the time being.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I lost no time and rushed to her as fast as I possibly could, sword in hand. With every beat of my heart, every step I hopped, I could observe her sweat running down her face and burn her eyes. When I was finally in range, I threw myself at the giant contraption and disrupted its movement. With a few bruises that were the result of the hard rock that just collided with my relatively soft flesh I fell to the floor. I turned my head to espy a preoccupied Shthelith fending off the other stone warden as best he could on his own.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The short moment of our enemy's temporary inadvertence due to my assault was enough time for Nephethys to unleash fury upon the thing. Bone blade in hand, she kicked and slashed at the stone, dancing around it in a whirlwind of destruction. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys was clever indeed, as she focused her aggression on its sword arm, making it crumble and disarming it in the process.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In a fit of stupidity, for lack of a more adequate term as what I did was beyond risky, I reached for the giant, stone sword. With considerable trouble, I managed to hoist it and hold it up into the air. Thereafter I let it crash into the living statue and it shattered to pieces.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The debris lay scattered across the floor, a dust cloud telling of its former owner where once towered the stalwart golem. In the meantime, Shthelith was still busy fending off the other, rolling under its swings and strikes, stepping behind it for a quick stab before he was forced to evade again.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I slowly dragged the weapon over to him while Nephethys still recovered from the assault. The long notch in the floor told of its coming demise. My muscles burned like the fiery pits of Oblivion itself as I raised the blunt edge of the giant instrument one more time. I could withstand the searing pain only just. And in a moment of weakness, my quivering arms and tremulous hands released their tension with a rush of overwhelming relief flowing through them. The blade came crashing down to split the petrified soldier in half and missed Shthelith by only a few centimetres.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A storm of powder and coarse pebbles released from it and doused the Aímamer in dry soot. My help came at the right moment. His hurried breathing and buildup of sweat foretold imminent, fatal fatigue.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Thanks to thy bravery, I may yet live".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">He took a deep, albeit somewhat trembling bow. My upper extremities were shaking as well from the most recent combat and Nephethys stumbled towards us, her legs unmistakably strained past their limits.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"It surely is difficult holding off an entire ship's worth of weight with only half your muscles", she remarked. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">For a brief moment I considered dragging that stone sword around just in case I would need to fight one of those golems again. I was indeed rather invigorated due to my victory, notwithstanding the extreme conditions I subjected myself to. For once, it felt good to be the saviour.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Without further ado, worrying about all the other decorative statues and whether or not they could spring to life at any moment, we finally climbed up the Y-shaped stairs in a much quicker pace than originally intended. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The steps flowed into elevated balconies that stretched all the way across the walls. Embedded within were ornate archways that led to different parts of the castle. The three of us were strangers to these halls and thus, didn't know where to go. However, we had three directions to choose from.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Can't there just be one way for once?", an annoyed Nephethys complained with her arms waving about in an effort to reinforce her point.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Let us think", Shthelith proposed while he sought to put a halt to Nephethys' wild gesturing. "Inspect the portals that loometh. Where is it they doth lead to?".</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We did as we were told and saw that the middle path would take us onto a roofed bridge with a closed gate visible in the distance. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The way to our left led to what I assumed to be a dining hall for the presence of a long table and an abundance of chairs. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">To our right, then, lay a chamber that I could from the distance identify to hold at least a few bookshelves. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We pondered on where to go but in the end, decided to examine what I took to be a library first so we might find potential leads on which road to take going forward.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Belike thou wilt find a scrapping of this burg's bygone history", Shthelith suggested.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Our steps reverberated off the walls of the mostly empty foyer as we decided to step through the aperture to the right to enter the room of long lost knowledge. A little dust fell down onto us from within the cracks in the arch. Our loud steps gave way to a wooden creaking as the floor changed its type.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">All of the brickwork we've had the chance to familiarize ourselves with so far had now been concealed by innumerable, tall bookshelves that lined the entire, outermost perimeter of the large study. Several tables alongside a number of small stools filled the otherwise vacant space and a hint of burnt wax hung in the air. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Several cobwebs had gathered around the heaps of volumes that stood neatly arranged inside the shelves and most of them looked just as if I could have shattered them from mental thought alone.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Such sticky filth that enveloped the books I also observed in the corners of the furniture and the room itself.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"What wisdom might be contained here?", Nephethys wondered. Clearly, the unique nature of this world comes to mind, inspiring curiosity of unparalleled intensity in her and myself as well. However, when I casually tried to grab oneiof the books from the shelves, it would dissolve into a fine powder on touch, erasing whatever knowledge it might have held.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I earned some scolding looks from my companions until they, too, had melting papers run in betwixt their fingers. Evidently, it was absolutely no use to try and open them from their confines. Yet, I espied one, opened set of parchments sitting on one of the nearby tables.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">It shone invitingly in the warm light of a candle that must have been lit quite recently, so I inferred that whomever this castle belonged to, they had to have been immersed in study only moments afore we claimed ingress to their abode.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">From afar, I could not fathom its contents, prompting me to inch closer for a more elaborate look. I exercised utmost caution due to the fragility of the other, nearby tomes. I needed to prevent ruin to befall the only lead I had.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Wary as to not conjure up any unnecessary wind that could have caused the old papers to get caught in the breeze, I crept over to the table.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys and Shthelith were busy probing the shelves to find out which of the books had held fast against the test of time whereas I fastidiously examined the two eldritch pages that unravelled before me.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Eyeing them both up and down, at first I was just as clueless thereafter as I had been afore. The little excerpt I was permitted to view and brood over offered a deeper look into the world around me. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">An assortment of magical seals with heretofore unwitnessed glyphs, supported by illegible text written in a foreign alphabet that even my best efforts at deciphering failed at shedding at least some light on its meaning.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Make no mistake. I had seen various, different scripts from all over Tamriel before. I taught myself how to decode Dwemeris, how to read Altmeris, yes, even how to properly decipher and pronounce Dovahzul, Daedric or Ayleidis. But still, these texts were unlike anything I hitherto had the opportunity to peruse.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">But there was yet hope. A tiny detail in the script. An almost negligible circle among the many circular drawings on these pages. Notwithstanding the obvious similarities to all the others being plentiful, it stood out like the moon would amongst a sea of stars that drifted above Tamriel. The very sky I hungered after as I reminisced on how it looked. And I wondered if I were to ever see it again. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">It was a perfect circle drawn right in the centre of the second page. With precision were arranged around it a host of alien, magical symbols that had no place in the world that I hailed from. Inside of it there was an emblem, or perhaps a sigil or something similar. Three strokes, horizontally stacked on top of each other, on either side with an upside down V in the middle.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In the two upper corners of the page were two more, similarly embellished circles containing symbols that looked like drops from afar, albeit constructed of many different strokes of very fine lines. These were connected to the central seal by what I can only put into words as "veins" of ink that almost seemed to have grown naturally from circle to circle. Beneath it all a chunk of indecipherable text that I suspected to serve as a more thorough explanation of what was depicted. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I could not read the text, neither could I interpret the symbols that were so carefully painted around the important sigils. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">But what I did see, however, was something of profound meaning to our task. Something that I needed no description for to understand what it was supposed to represent. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">For the innermost seal, as speculative as my hypothesis may appear to you now, seemed to form the crude likeness of a ribcage.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">___</span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;"><a href="https://theskyforge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/tales-of-darkness-table-of-contents" target="_blank">Back to Table of Contents</a></span></p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">___</span></p></div>Shape Your Flesh - Episode III: The Three Seals of the Apocalypse - Chapter I: Lost Amongst the Deadhttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/shape-your-flesh-episode-iii-the-three-seals-of-the-apocalypse-ch2020-04-17T09:33:51.000Z2020-04-17T09:33:51.000ZPrimehttps://TheSkyForge.ning.com/members/Prime<div><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">I</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Neither in my dreams, nor in the waking world, could I have prognosticated the execrative flagrancy that I had up to this point already laid eyes upon - or the damnabilities I was yet to encounter in the future, up to my improbable escape from that dæmoniac plane of existence. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The concept of duality, taught to generations upon generations of the Tamrielic citizens, tells us how to distinguish the moral from the amoral, it instructs us about night and day, light and dark, good and evil, always in direct opposition to one another. But it is this very concept of duality that forsook me the very second I stepped through that odious canvas, besmeared with blood and entrails - and worse.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Surreptitiously, ever so furtively, barely noticeable, if at all, the essence of what should erode my hitherto held beliefs in what was felonious and what was virtuous, in the nature of malevolence and benevolence, gently encroached, slithered into my harrowed mind. But not only it, my body befell a great affliction also, for my altered perception of spiritual and physical decrepitude caused me to commit misdeeds most hideous.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As we steadily progressed through this blood-soaked nightmare, I could feel my sanity slip from time to time, obscuring the boundaries, that usually lay fastened within my consciousness, betwixt the righteous and the loathsome. It continually blurred the lines until what I had feared as abhorrent in the past would become my wont.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In a similar manner could I observe this general, slow degradation of faith and virtue in my companions. Nephethys in particular appeared to be extraordinarily affected by what sinister power held us in its ethereal grasp. Her stout countenance steadily declined the deeper that rabbit hole went. The instances in which her mood heavily shifted to display aggression towards me became more numerous the longer our stay in that worldpersisted, despite her affection in respect to my body and spirit.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Even Shthelith, an Aímamer native to this forgotten region of time and space, seemed to be tragically unaware of the true nature of his homeland. He could not predict what evil writhed inside the High Priestess Sárka whom he used to answer to. Neither knew he of the Stained Glass Dæmon, nor what abyssal depths lay beyond the broken rose window, out of which the viscous void seeped so eerily.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The three of us realized that we were entirely vacuous pertaining to the realm we were in notwithstanding the time that we had at that point already spent surviving there.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Albeit none of us were too keen on uncovering all its mysteries, our fate was bound to them. And so, we set out to wander that deathly wasteland in an effort to retrieve the artifacts that we hoped would permit us egress. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The heavy doors of the chapel swung open, a foetid air current passing us by to harass our nostrils, prompting me to cast one, final gaze into the droning nothingness behind us.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I had gotten used to the foul stench of old blood and burnt flesh, the noxious vapours that rose up from numerous spots throughout the hamlet surrounding the fane now barely upset me. Perhaps my sense of smell got numbed during our horrific trip through the great shredmound beneath the religious building. Whatever the reason might be, I began to view my general indifference towards such things as an advantage more so than anything.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The queerly illuminated sky enveloped us once more in its twilight radiance as we stepped out of the temple and into the village, the great, bending basalt walls of Bendicia looming in the background. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The three of us trod past several decaying huts and partially broken shacks, whereupon I noticed this general air of disdain and resentment, but also fear, that these dilapidated buildings emitted. Out from the decrepit windows several pairs of glowing eyes would stare at us, following our every move, accompanied by shocked gasps and bewildered whispers. Some shifted nervously back and forth, others averted their gaze quickly and still others did neither move nor blink at all, instead glaring contemptibly at the group of foreigners that murdered their queen in cold blood.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">None dared to leave their homes to possibly engage us. After all, we had slain their most powerful hemomancer. But perhaps their attitude had to do with the vitreous beast that had emerged hours after Sárka's demise. Shthelith was oblivious to its existence, so I believe the other blood elves were as well.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We stopped for a moment, small dust clouds gathering and dissipating as our boots came to a halt on the dry ground.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I must wonder", Shthelith spoke, "whatever it will be my kin will do, now that thou hast slain our mistress. After all, Sárka had been the instructor, instrumental for my race to uphold the rites none else teacheth. Ah, I must wonder…", he said in an almost regretful tone, albeit my gut told me that a faint sense of ghastly premonition resonated within his words.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I paid it no mind and instead listened to Nephethys, who answered with much disregard for the Aímamer people.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"It matters not to me. As long as the rites forgotten include whatever I was subjected to enduring", she snapped, eyeing the houses around her. I could tell she was only barely able to contain the urge to murder the citizens of the hamlet. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">She held herself back, I presumed, to avoid slaughtering potentially innocent people. Mothers, fathers and children just trying to get by. But also because she knew full well that, in her current, emotional state she might succumb to a mad rage that cruel processions had given to her - unable to stop. Not only at them, but also at us.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith and I made the wise decision to stay quiet, lest we fuel her anger.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Back in the sepulchre, our remarks had already beckoned her to fury. As such, there was no telling as to what her current attitude of loathing could invoke. She had grown mighty, after all.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In an effort to break the uncomfortable silence that hence unfolded, I questioned Shthelith about the possible destinations available to us from this point forward:</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Where will we go now?", I asked, knowing of at least three different places we must visit in order to break the seal on the Old Word. But most importantly, our rations were depleted, our dresses ripped to shreds in response to the fight prior. Without sufficient protection and empty stomachs, the three of us could not hope to last a single day in these conditions. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I ponder…", Shthelith mumbled to himself before inhaling audibly, "I deem it best we head to my abode first. Ye armours are compromis'd. Methinks Shthelith hath a smattering of spare garbs for you both to wear over those tatters. As for provisions…".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">He paused, his expression churning to display a hint of sorrow in his eyes. "I believe thou must procure it from the locals. By… </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">trade</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">, mind thee". He subtly gestured over to my gladius.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys and I understood what the queer elf sought to tell us and we worried profoundly at its meaning. But was it truly a moral dilemma if we took food from extradimensional mer? Before I could finish my thoughts that no doubt would have led me to despair, fragile as my mind had become, Shthelith fortunately interrupted them by burdening me with the task.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Thou'rt an able swordsman, Thorus. And thy past accomplishments against the unsightly beasts of these lands permit thee to… </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">collect</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> in the manner I suggest."</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">He spoke truthfully. It was obvious to the townspeople that, after the commotion that was caused within the chapel - twice, no less - we emerged victorious from the battles. This of course would instill fear into the hearts of the residents, making them easy sources of resources I presumed. However, I would go on to do everything I could to persuade the people rather than threatening them.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"And we shall make our way to my house. I will bestow upon thee sacred garments for thee to cover thy skin. Amongst other things", Shthelith said to the scantily clad Dunmer woman, eyeing her up and down to suggest less mentionable parts of Nephethys' body that got exposed during the fights, her armour in no way suitable to withstand another hit, much less to conceal her body.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">She looked at him with curiosity in her eyes for a moment, probably wondering about the </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">other things</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;">, but agreed in the end.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As I watched my companions wander off, I took hold of my blade once more. I will, however, spare you the details of the following endeavor. Most of the locals were surprisingly cooperative. Some out of terror and fright, others due to nigh jubilation at the current state of affairs. But then there were those whom I had to murder for they assaulted me before I could even knock at their doors. To me, this was a gruesome task to carry out. I had seen enough bloodshed already and I felt that every elf I killed to sustain myself and my group took away from my conscience. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I took as much as I was able to fit into my pockets and pouches. Though, the items designated for consumption were of extraordinary ilk. Fruit of alien shape and smell, coloured like mouldy apples and stale bread. Afore prepared items of foreign appearance. Steaming slop with weird clumps, squishy, almost wet bread. Nothing I've ever seen on Nirn compares to these, I'm afraid. In most cases, I was not even sure of the edibility of the items I took. Thankfully, I knew who could tell nourishment from poison.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I reckon the most normal thing was baked scavenger meat alongside some grilled vegetables that at least didn't look like they've been laying in the sun for a few decades.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">When I returned from my gathering trip to finally arrive at Shthelith's house, I beheld a most peculiar scene after I entered. Rather serenely, Nephethys, clad in one of the holy robes of the Aímamer, levitated just a few centimetres above the floor in the centre of the room while our friendly blood elf gave her instructions on how to perform what I assumed to be a spell of some kind. It seemed that I was a bit late, for she already came down again and I missed whatever incantation it was that he taught to her. A pool of blood to her feet told of a sinister kind of magic though.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Magnificent!", Shthelith exclaimed with much joy and to my personal dismay. If a person of his standards deems something grand, it surely must be something portentous. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I inspected the Dunmer more closely. In doing so, I took note of a few things that would come to bother me in the days ahead.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Her skin appeared to have lightened into a more ashen shade of grey than the usual anthracite colouring. And while the ceremonial robe she wore was sure to prevail much better in terms of physical protection against possible hazards, covering up the blades that made up her legs, it also seemed to 'pierce' her flesh in places. Likely, I inferred, to amplify the strength of magics related to, or relying on, blood.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">But what upset me the most was her expression whenever she wielded these detestable powers. She was never her usual self when she drew from these forces. I was aware that this change only occurred when she engaged in hemomancy, yet I feared Nephethys might opt to prefer this kind of weapon over others which might alter her personality at length.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I admitted it to myself - I was deathly afraid of losing her to madness and bloodlust. But at the same time, I had to also admit to the fact that this 'new' Nephethys was radiant with a strange kind of allure alongside the feel of a majestic presence.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Before long, the mystical energy faded and she returned to normal again.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I can see thou'rt disturb'd, Thorus", Shthelith chimed in, "But affrighted thou must not be, forwhy I only seek to embolden this one's corpus and spirit to awaken the greatness within her".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">All of a sudden, I caught myself questioning the Aímamer's true motivations. I knew that he posed an indisposable asset for his knowledge of the land. Moreover, our chances of survival were greatly increased the more members our group contained. Nonetheless, I could not help but to become sceptical of his doings. He clearly must have seen the drastic changes that Nephethys undergoes whenever he taught her something new.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Before I could begin my counter argument, Nephethys broke the silence my long-lasting thinking brought about. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I think you should don some new robes, Thorus. Oh, and I see you've brought us provisions as well! I believe we're ready to continue our journey then."</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I didn't respond. An inaudible, disappointed sigh escaped my mouth as I unravelled the different kinds of queer food I had acquired. The two of them were impressed and, after Shthelith had thoroughly evaluated the contents of my booty, he remarked that this should last us a couple of days.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Before long, he beckoned me to his side. I knew what was about to happen. But I didn't know if I would feel at all comfortable in the garments that I should soon wear. I was knowing of the benefits these robes would provide - much needed camouflage in a world filled with blood drunk madmen and added, physical protection to make up for my own, tattered garb. But at the same time I felt strangely alienated as soon as I exchanged my coat, once a sign of a prestigious servant to the Empire, for the red fabric of the blood elves.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith and Nephethys no doubt could see just how uncomfortable I was as I wriggled my arms through the semi-rigid sleeves when I fancied I felt a slight tug at some of my hairs, most likely getting caught within the cloth.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">My companions did not comment on my struggle, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that they harboured internal amusement at the sight of my coarse movement. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I grew taciturn when I discovered a small slash mark on the robe that I donned, instantly arresting my attention to yet another harrowing truth I did not want to know. For amidst the slight damage in my attire I spotted several strands of white protruding from the hole.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">All of a sudden it became abundantly clear why the entire garb felt awfully mouldy, furthermore explaining the rigidity of the cloth.</span></p><p><em><span style="font-weight:400;">It was soaked in blood.</span></em></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A wave of sickness swept over me, crashing into my gut as my skin was covered in sanguine mould. I did my very best to hide what horror my eyes would have usually given away but I failed quite spectacularly. Frenzied, I tore open the garb and threw it onto the floor. Under heavy breathing, I stared at my fellows and proclaimed: "I am not wearing that". Shthelith, taken back by my reaction but speechless in return, only nodded in acknowledgement and slowly handed me my seriously compromised coat.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">What worried me more so than having come into physical contact with the abundantly sullied fibre was that Nephethys seemed to be absolutely uncaring in respect to what bestial processes must have been required in order to make that robe. I was tempted to advise against it, but the way in which she revelled in it was intimidating, to say the least. Perhaps, I thought, the rite conducted on her did not only enable her progressing attunement to the resident hemomancy but also would cause her to adopt the ways of the aímeri people to a terrifying extent. Or the alterations to her magical resonance, even, could be held responsible for the indifference she was increasingly prone to display towards otherwise frowned upon methodologies one does not experience on Nirn - at least, not that I know of.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I never told her what I felt in that moment. What innermost apocalypse was wrenching my heart out to bear witness to a thing to be described almost as treachery if not for her tragic unawareness of the state of things. I should have taken the risk. I should have told her. What was the worst, possible consequence? An argument? Violence? Maybe even death? It does not matter. But in hindsight I believe that an early demise would have spared me the details that were yet to unfold. Albeit I could not tell where my soul would go if I was to die in that place. But somehow, the idea of it, as it now crosses my mind, seems like a viable option to rid myself of these dark truths.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Before long, I caught myself looking profusely for excuses to the Dunmer's worsening state of mind. Even the Dark Brotherhood drew its line somewhere and I felt that this line had been crossed one too many times along the way. I knew that I was the one to consume human flesh, but she was the one to partake in unholy communion and a bloody baptism. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">After I dressed again in my usual attire, even if the Garb was somewhat chafed, Shthelith proposed we take action and begin to plan a route through the ravaged lands of the painted world. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I propose", Shthelith began, "to venture to the forest first. Frome there leadeth a path to get to our other destinations". He grabbed an empty piece of parchment from the nearby table and scrawled upon it a crude map, marking the locations of interest.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">And it was true, such was the most logical route to be taken.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The Aímamer laid his index finger on the central point of the map - the aímeri hamlet where we were then. He slid his finger along the paper to show us that the cove, as he called it, lay directly to the east of our position. His fingertip then traveled down to point at the forest whereby he explained that we should go southeast instead, to the Decaying Woods, tapping multiple times on the spot. He further elaborated that heading there first would enable us to follow a long path, moving in a semi-circle around the closed off city of Bendicia. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">From the forest we would head north to the cove. From the cove, we were to then take a road that led further up north into the mountains, make a left and proceed west to an area Shthelith referred to as Hema's Peak. From the mountain top we'd then traverse the path down to the south, passing the 'Dripping Mounds' to circle back eastward to arrive at Bendicia with all three seals in hand.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A sound strategy.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The three of us could prepare for the oncoming adventure without further incident. And even though my garb was severely compromised, everything was better than to wear the sullied robes that Nephethys donned, although at that point I still had hope that she only did it because her very own armor had become quite revealing after the latest battles. I still retained some faith.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;"><span style="font-weight:400;">II</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We had gathered the supplies we required for the trip to the woods. We all stood in front of the door to the outside. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We knew where we needed to go, but the resolve to actually take the first step had yet to present itself. A queer thought crossed my mind at that moment. It was the impression that, maybe, we might be able to make a living here. To stop pursuing that mad lord and to try and circumvent the grave dangers of these lands and live together - or in coexistence - with the Aímamer people. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I had already gone past the point of tolerable torture. I would have given anything for a chance to spare myself from the terror that was omnipresent in this world. I was tired, exhausted. Barely able to formulate a clear thought at times. Alas, I realized that resignation was out of the question. Forwhy as deeply as I desired to halt and not face what there still was to come, I wanted to go home just as much.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I inhaled deeply, pushing out a troubled sigh. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Driven by a longing homesickness just as much as by a certain responsibility regarding my duties, I broke the silence and proclaimed it be time to go. Nephethys nodded, and Shthelith agreed rather gleefully. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The feeble, wooden door swung open to reveal the dry sands once more to announce our advent.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We made for the Decaying Woods that lay situated near the shore to the southeast. Within, it was said, stood the proud fort of the Undead King, Shthelith explained. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"He hath not always been the Undead King", the blood elf elaborated, "In fact, the forest used to be a lush copse once. Beautiful greenery and gay flower beds around a crystal clear stream that kaleidoscopically reflected the heavenly rays of an incandescent sun, bathing everything in a lustre most entrancing".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We wandered a few minutes until we saw the wood's outskirts and the first sets of dry, leafless trees came into view.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"What happened?", Nephethys inquired, giving away her concern with the wrinkles on her forehead. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Methinks I remember something about a terrible curse the King was afflicted with. If thou gazest across the horizon, thou mayst notice ruins of wooden huts that lay scatter'd among the stumps. For the King us'd to have a people he rul'd. But the curse took a hold of all and the King, together with his people, fell to a sickness most ravenous".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">He paused for a moment and appeared to be suppressing a smile. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Now, all that's left are the undead husks that roameth the rotted copse. And the King, who awaiteth oblivion in his burg", he then closed in a manner similar to the old grandfather who would tell a story to his grandchildren. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As Shthelith finished his sentence we were slowly approaching the thorny branches and collapsed huts. Indeed, if he spoke the truth, this place might very well be infested with the unliving. At least a change of pace, diverting from all the blood and flesh we had witnessed.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We walked further and began to scout out the entrance. As it was, these woods appeared to be an enclosed space underneath an open sky as the edges were lined with thick roots overgrown with spiky flora that would permit us no entry.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"It was not always like this", the blood elf enunciated. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"One us'd to be able to enter the copse even without the path that leadeth to the fort and its village. But since the curse…".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith stopped as if it bothered him to talk about the curse that had befallen the King and his people. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Ah, it matters not. I believe the entrance lieth just a small ways over yonder", he pointed a little off to the left of the wild growths.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">There appeared out of nowhere an opening within the thicket that so opaquely clouded our view. In the distance, only a dilapidated tower could be seen, emerging from the skeletal silhouettes of death and decay.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"There it is!", Nephethys called out to us, quite oblivious to the fact that the rest of us had already spotted it.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Careful now", Shthelith admonished with his index finger. "Ye do not want to fall victim to the lurking adversity".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">He explained to us that the Undead King wasn't called as such for nothing and, although he had never been there himself, the Decaying Woods retained a high probability of being the home to a few dozen undead as well.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Out of curiosity, still walking towards the opening in the wall of roots and thorns, I asked Shthelith about the nature and race of the undead that might encroach upon us.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Tell me, Shthelith, who lived here once? Was it blood elves like you?".</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Ther once dwelt a race of humans if my memory doth abandon me not. The King is not of elven blood and never was."</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Humans! Unbelievable. All that time, I thought the Aímamer were the only ones hardy enough to survive in such a world. But then I distinctly remembered him telling me something about a different time where this realm was, supposedly, habitable. Perhaps, I mused quietly, this forlorn race of humans, whoever they might have been, was not cursed after all. Maybe the entire world around them was doomed to rot instead, dragging this civilisation down with it. After all, I had thus far encountered no evidence of there ever not having been hardships, so this struck me as rather odd.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">On the other hand, if he spoke the truth, how could he know, yes indeed, </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">remember</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> this time period? I know elves live exceedingly long lives, but whenever this time was, it must have been thousands of years ago. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">In our current situation, for the time being, I opted to focus my mind on the task at hand notwithstanding the strangeness of his memory.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">There soon lay before us a clearing amongst spiky shrubs and uninviting bushes. Inspecting them, I noted to myself that the curse that had befallen this region must have been the most terrible thing of its time. The presumably once green branches were sickly warped, elongated, curling in on themselves in a manner similar to dying and decomposing plants but incredibly tough in their rottenness. Although all of the bitterly twisted shrubbery appeared rather dry and easily flammable as a result, walking in betwixt them to gain entry into the woods proper revealed that they were quite durable as was evidenced by my foolishness of trying to step through one of the bushes in my path only to stumble, fall and ricochet off of it, groaning in pain as I was brought to the ground with a few bruises. </span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Turns out even nature herself is irreconcilable in this place" I cursed before I lifted myself onto my own two feet again.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I implored thee to exercise caution!" Shthelith remarked, scolding me for my carelessness. His voice echoed through the armies of dead trees. The three of us stopped to listen and involuntarily scanned the area to suddenly feel intimidated by our surroundings. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The great, foreign growth of wood and bark stood tall, their crowns blotting out the sky. The further we peered, the darker it got while above us the branches loomed like the boney fingers of a lich, waiting to devour our souls, lending credit to the oppression with which the flora, corrupted as it was, had overtaken most of the landscape. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The shadows that were cast ran across the ground like veins of pure darkness that led to a black, foetid heart. This place was accursed - and there was no denying it.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Slowly, carefully, we trod the path deeper into the forest. A few dried remnants of what at some point had surely been flowers lined the road here and there. Adding to the generally uncomfortable atmosphere was that we heard naught but our own footsteps as our boots pushed away the dirt to form tiny dust clouds that persisted in the air for the lack of wind.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">However, all of a sudden, Shthelith motioned for us to stop.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Methinks there happen'd a noise", he whispered. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"I hear it, too", Nephethys noddingly confirmed. Only I appeared to be deaf in that instance. "Don't you hear it, Thorus?". </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">"Hear what?". Shthelith interrupted. "The tree bark. It creaketh quite noisily, ever more intense by the second. This should not be."</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Shthelith reminded us that this forest is supposed to be completely devoid of life. Even if living carcasses were rumoured to inhabit this place, such entities tend to lie in stillness rather than roam about. And they certainly would not produce a sound reminiscent of creaking wood. Together with the apparent absence of wind, any sound apart from our own should have been impossible. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">A cold shudder permeated my very fabric, being even more at unease than previously. Whereas before I would fear the uncanny stillness, now I wondered what might be hiding amidst the tyranny of putrescent wood.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The further we went, the louder it became, until we almost stood right next to the source of the sound. The three of us snuck past some obstructive foliage to reveal what still dwelt here, capable of producing any audible noises at all. Only, it seemed as if the tree itself emitted the confusing tones.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We gently approached it. I stretched out my hand to touch it's slightly moving bark, caressing the rough surface of its protective shell. Without being forewarned, the tree went silent. The soft vibrations that its movement caused ceased.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Nephethys already inhaled to probably berate me for breaking something but before she could formulate even a single word, her mouth remained agape in complete shock at the vista that unfurled before her eyes.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">She only managed to motion me to look up. When I did, I understood her sudden taciturnity.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Several worn nooses were attached to the dry branches of the tree top. All of these nooses were occupied by rotting corpses that hung down from each of them. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I watched as the crown descended unter a raucous rustling and the wheezes of the undead whose slumber we appear to have disturbed.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">I stood directly next to the tree as the mass of bodies violently collided with the floor, causing unholy groans and audibly broken bones, yet missing me entirely for my proximity to its source but prompting Shthelith and Nephethys to jump to either side in order to avoid getting hit. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Whatever it was these things could do, none of us wanted to find out.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">As the tree stood erect once again, and the bewildered eyes of my companions reflected the disturbing scenery, it shook its crown with vigour for several, screaming undead to tumble downward.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The mortifying wails seemed to 'alert' other trees of its ilk all over the area and it became unmistakably apparent that these twisted mutations were abundant in numbers.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">The first few bodies hit the floor with the visceral sounds of sickening gurgles and crushed flesh. We realized that the stumbling husks of what once were men outnumbered us greatly so that even our combined combat prowess would not suffice to put so much as a dent into their forces.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Soon thereafter, the entire forest was alive with gasping, gurgling and screaming while the trees sang their infernal tune that foretold incredible disaster should we not be moving soon.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We needed to get away - and fast. A single thought, transmitted between us without words at the unfolding catastrophe, lit the fuse for us to begin running for our lives in unison.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We couldn't afford to back away for yet more terrible, floral nightmares would await us if we were to turn back. The only direction was forward. We dashed forth, hearts pumping, adrenaline surging, to leave the moving corpses in the dust of our trail. Ever deeper, the light began to gradually fade as the whirling branches, alive with lethal misintent, attempted to get a hold of us or whip us to shreds. </span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We didn't peek behind us but I distinctly heard how the trees </span><em><span style="font-weight:400;">hurled</span></em><span style="font-weight:400;"> the screeching bodies in our direction, only to crash into the corruption-soaked floor. Rotting carcasses would fly by in front of us as the other towering trees threw them our way. It was utter chaos.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">We went deeper still, after a time, passing by and dodging innumerable undead on the way, as we noticed the vile growths decreasing in frequency and the disgusting noises to become quieter.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">Yet further, darkness claimed its throne as all we saw were silhouettes of portentous implication against the tenebrous backdrop of the copse. Here, light could not enter, and we once again found ourselves in shadow, fleeing from a force we could not control. We soon lost our way. Lacking any point of reference, I was unable to reliably say just where we were situated - or how far we had been straying off the beaten path.</span></p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">With the way back unclear and overrun by undeath we could only move further into the brooding darkness ahead.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-weight:400;">When all was silent again, Nephethys conjured up an orb of light to reveal our path. And by this light was it that we made a discovery, our next destination for a lack of alternatives. Forwhy amidst the decaying shrubs there lay a settlement, forgotten, forsaken, dead.</span></p><p> </p><p style="text-align:center;">___</p><p style="text-align:center;"><a href="https://theskyforge.ning.com/groups/the-story-corner/general-forum/tales-of-darkness-table-of-contents" target="_blank">Back to Table of Contents</a></p><p style="text-align:center;">___</p></div>