Fable - Ask Home, Hearth, and Crypt

[Cauldwin Talson Valfnyr]

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Too easily forgotten are these places: sacred grounds of faith and eternal rest... what cacophony of catastrophes could lead to such sacred places being abandoned not only by worshipers, but seemingly the gods they are erected for in adoration? Was it war? Plague? Natural disaster? Monstrosities in the night? Only the stones that remain in defiant memory know, but they have no means to speak.

Forgotten and decrepit these places may be, those who are unwelcomed in places of civilization find themselves congregating in these structures. Be they damned souls, brigands, the lost, or some other form of cast away. These places are sanctum to that which is mighty enough to lay claim.

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In the near pitch-black dark of the night, a heavily armored giant of man (if he can still be considered a man any longer), is trudging through the swamp lands of the Iuk-'u Delta. He shambles forwards with a heavy limp, as his right kneecap has been smashed in. His left arm hangs limply at his side, his forearm missing. A few bolts, a spear, and even a sword impale through the gaps in his bulky rusted plates. A black tar leaks out from between the tarnished chainmail beneath the heavy plates, dissolving the plant life the tar falls onto. For any who could bare witness, he would seem to be the embodiment of battle, stagnation, and death.

In his vissagless helm, a green glowing eye peers ahead at the old overgrown mortar that creates a standing wall. He places his mailed and leather hand on the pale stone, and traces along it until he comes across a semi-dilapidated archway with a rusted and barbed gate. He runs his fingers down the bars until he finds the ancient corroded lock, and with a mighty pull, snaps the lock in two before gently dropping the remains of the lock he held onto the ground. He then forces the rusted gate open with a high-pitched mournful creek. Allowing him to enter the old grounds of this place.

Music to set the tone

In the yard there are hundreds of head stones, spaced by an occasional statue. It's features either exceptionally dilapidated or otherwise eroded by nature and time. He walks along overgrown and unmaintained cobbles that make pathing though the yard. A little ways in the distance he can see another layer of walls, with two archways and gates that bisect the burial grounds and likely split it in three with a wall that runs between the two sectors that has yet to be seen by this rusted warrior.

As he limps forwards, a sensation and epiphany overtakes him. This place has an unnatural air of peace and calm, and it has likely not been disturbed since whatever event caused it's abandonment. He could only guess that the sheer amount of graves attested to some great tragedy in the past, something that could generate such a tremendous loss of life. He gave pause to take in the morbid serenity of the place, listening to the ghostly howling winds and chirping crickets. Allowing his already slow breathing to relax as this seemed a safe haven for him...