Open Chronicles Mountainhome of the dead

[Velle]

For the curious, derilect rope bridges leading into the mountains seemed almost as invitations.

But perhaps most others would find them too dangerous to set foot on.


Rarely treaded for at least four decades, it was a miracle that these rope bridges still stood holding on. Likely fabled Antikathri enchantments at play.
From one to another, shorter and longer, over chasms and deep rivers and up steep mountains. They'd lead to narrow passes only marked with shodilly cobbled together paths against mountain faces, with only inset logs offering grip to safely traverse.
And the path was solemn, it was empty and dangerous, sometimes only offering a foot worth of standing ground.
It was truly a remote path.
Only after a multitude of hours would the path evolve into stairs and maintained paths.


And what for? To see what lay at the end of an abandoned path?
A dragon's lair or treasure?

A nook in the mountain opned up ahead at it's heighest...Finally something else to see than stone walls an endless sky.

Waterfalls? snowed in mountain tops? The gulf of Ryt opening up in a scenic view?
No...

Alongside a depression on the mountaintop before the crevice lay what appeared as some kind of temple or village. Buildings laying at odd angles and pillared arches were placed seemingly scattered across the nearby terrain and the lonesome path that led to the buildings proper.

It was... strangely empty...lifeless like a ghost town, except...upon closer inspection... blood trailed down the stony path and onto the court. Parts of dark elves of various ages lay scattered about. Arms, legs heads. About 25 people piled up in the center, all bodies of the dead. Their flesh rended and scorched.
Foul magic could be tasted in the air, perhaps some could even identify it as celestial...rather demonic.

 

[Merek Lothar]

Merek carefully balanced himself on the tenuous rope bridges as he worked his way further up the great chasms and mountains. It was undeniably beautiful, great vistas of onyx and rock bathed in the twilight of a sky broken by rays of hazy light. This place was ancient, every gust of tender air and howling of the wind echoed the same feeling of a distant, undisturbed antiquity. But through the solace of the mountains, Merek felt something else…


He had first been driven to journey here after dreaming of the dead, as he always did. The disparate voices of the slain had stuttered the name of this place, still shocked by the end of their own mortality; he had listened to them, until the end, and watched their spectres dim and fade like an afterimage, which they essentially were. No matter how much he tried to remember, they never spoke of what had slain them, perhaps it was beyond their vocabulary or they had never even seen it. Whatever it was, it was guarding something, and Merek wanted it for himself.


He screwed his face as he saw carrion birds circling in a broken pattern up ahead, and followed them until he came to the scene of the butchered village. Blood seeped upon every crevice of its outlandish architecture, and the reeking stench of corpse-rot clung onto the air. Bending down, he brushed a gauntleted palm across the ashen surface of the bodies, and felt the trails of their minds scatter like sand. He grimaced and drew his blade, a cruel thing of blackened metal and harsh forging, and continued onwards, searching for whatever the dark primordial atmosphere of this place promised...

 

[Aremir]

Aremir traveled swiftly through the mountains, feet light against ancient eruptions of stone, a mere black speck on the jagged grey and white slashing obstruction of the skyline. He paused, the wind nearly ripping apart the bridge he had just stepped off of, as it tore harshly through his cloak and burned against the small slivers of his exposed skin. The foot steps he had noticed a while back were now long covered up with ice and snow, although he wasn't too upset, as it covered his own tracks as well.

Besides, he would rather pray for anyone else who was making the treacherous journey through the mountains than attack them. His eyes scanned the high walls of stone around him as he placed a steadying hand against icy grey. The mountains were now black against the darkening sky, as the unrelenting pale sun of yellow turned red and drifted away to hide behind them. Still, he could just make out birds, equally black against the skyline, circling over a crevice. Vultures? It was the opposite way down the mountain path from where he was going, but didn't appear too far out of the way, and if there was some sort of death in the mountains -or, he thought hopefully, a cooling campfire at which one might find rest, or even shelter for the night- he wanted to know.

Thus, he cautiously crept towards the extinct village, stopping on a mountain path above the collection of buildings. He leered from above, squinting through the snow and twilight, only to find shocking amounts of blood, carnage, and death. A hand on the hilt of his blade, he inched closer down the mountain, abandoning the path and searching for signs of life.

 

[Caelia]

The Mycolyp, peering through the eyes of its Overgrown scouts, took note of the derelict rope bridges that led further into the mountain, likely remnants of inhabitants whose corpses now feed the ground. Perhaps the Mycolyp could find use in such a place, possibly as a new haven to set roots beyond the Ixchel Wilds. Even if it appears unsuitable as a new garden, they may learn something from wherever the bridges lead. And so, the Mycolyp sent Caelia to venture forth and investigate where their scouts could not.

Caelia found herself standing at the foot of the rope bridges, the sound of creaking wood echoing as it reached the mountainside. She began her journey up the mountain, her eyes drifting upwards to meet those of Overgrown carrion, with wings covered in a layer of moss and fungus. The Mycolyp, through the scout's eyes, noticed other figures making a similar trek. She would have to keep an eye out for them, in case those of flesh may seek to harm those of root. They also noticed vultures upon the masses, circling the top of the mountain as though it were a dying man at the last stretch of life. What death could be there that could attract so many? This intrigued the Mycolyp greatly, and Caelia's pace quickened in anticipation.

After a long time of venturing further and further up the mountain, Caelia finally saw what it was leading to. The scent of decay and death hit her before the sight of the massacred village did, and as she reached the outskirts of the village, she simply took in the scenery. Blood painted the floors, with limbs decorating the macabre pathways, only increasing in volume and gore as she walked further in. As she stepped past one of the limbs, she kneeled to the ground, reaching an arm of fungus and wood towards the gore. As she gripped one of the severed body parts, Mycolyp fungus began to spread from her touch, enveloping the bloodied and decaying flesh in colorful mushrooms, returning life to the image of death. Satisfied, the Overgrown woman stood up from the blood-covered stone path, and continued to walk into the town.

 

[Addy]

Addisyn Ried found herself thanking whatever powers that be for her magic. If the ropes were to break, or the heels of her boots laced up to her knees were to suddenly cause her to lose her footing, at least she could rely on her shadows to help lash out and keep herself from falling to her death. That is, of course, if the fright of falling didn't mess up her cast. A low groan escaped her delicate lips as she pondered that other possibility.

Please don't let this bridge give way...

She felt the fluttering of wings near her face, her raven familiar Tom had landed to perch upon her shoulders as they had reached a point where the vultures would have given him trouble for entering their territory. Death was very certainly near. She could feel it in her bones, the whispers of her shadows speaking to the tragedy that had sent a number of souls into the void and without any peace.

The lithe blonde lifted the dark lace of her skirts, teal hues resting on the men who had arrived before her. This revelation did little to sway her, but it did put a hitch in her plans. She had wanted to inspect them, the ears of the elves had been rumored to have magical qualities useful for her alchemy. She would not kill for it, but she didn't see any point in letting good things go to waste. Such views were not often shared, however. People tended to get sentimental about the bodies of the dead.

 

[Velle]

The dead were fresh, too fresh. Some more complete corpses still seeped blood while the others were in their last breath throes. Nothing could be done to help, they were already passed away with the last of their spiritual remnants passing onto afterlife. For those that could sense their whines, they were lamenting, angry, furious even...Some crying.

Closing in, the corpses of the elves soon got riddled with various demonic beings of sloudhed crocodilian appearances. Their dismembered and scaled bodies slowly evaporated into black mist as their matter returned to their home dimension. Looks like they were dragged to the center to be disposed of by one or another.
Yet... not all was deathly still in the main pile of dead, one of the younger bodies made more a noticeable movement as they reached for another, slowly lifting themselves up. Their ascend however was shortlived as a still live crocodilian, black like tar, mid degredation clamped down onto the child and began dragging them back into the pile of the dead. The face of the kid was strangely devoid of excessive emotion, but a gaze upon the strangers was not met with any releaf, on the contrary. Shock.



Odd hissing sounds were emitted from behind the buildings, for as subtle as they were, they were quite high pitched.

 

[Merek Lothar]

Something was wrong, the death- images did not disappear, instead they haloed the town and hung around every corner, mouthing things Merek couldn't read. He began to understand what the ghost children in his dreams had feared about this place, someone, or something was here that shouldn't be. It was anathema to them...

He stalked down the narrow streets, with his blade gripped tighter and his eyes searching wildly in the recesses and shadows for whatever may or may not be there. Then he heard the hissing and gnawing of brittle bone and rotten sinew, the limbs softly snapping like twigs. Merek rounded a corner and saw something move behind a decrepit wall, flickering with an unnatural umbral flare as it skidded and ran. His eyes narrowed, and the wailing of the dead grew to a shriek inside his skull, making his head throb in pain with every sickly pulse.

'Show yourself,' he spat, saliva dripping through worn, unhealthy gums.

 

[Aremir]

Aremir's eyes narrowed in on the movement like that of a hawk- blinding him to the more obviously visible man on the other side of the alley. Instead, his head cocked, not unlike a bloodhound's, towards the demonic creature. It was not easy to spot, despite being on his side of the alleyway, as it was surrounded by a pile of writhing, hulking dead or soon-to-be dead, which in turn was covered in black mist. The child was almost invisible under the massive creature, but he could still see eyes clouded with shock, and the distinct, although young, features of an elf.

His long-sword made no sound as it was drawn from it's simple leather sheath, but stealth was not his mission. The metal shuddered all the way up to his arm as he clattered his sword against the stone wall, sound echoing through the town. "Hail." he called, as his voice creaked from disuse. He did not often raise his voice, and he was so often quiet that it could not raise much higher above a speaking tone, but it was commanding all the same.

"Let go of the child, and face me. I mean you no harm." He said, and paused before repeating himself in Orcish. He did not recognize the large scaled monster before him, and knew not from where it came. Inspecting it more closely, it was an effort for his voice not to waver the second time through- and despite his peaceful words, he lowered himself slightly and drew his sword around, tip resting a centimeter from the ground, as if drawing a line between himself and the creature.

 

[Velle]

Aremir
The crocodilian demon rose higher, still clutching the child who tried to weakly wriggle away like an unwilling cat in the grasp of a human. It let out a draconic roar, it's black tarry saliva spraying everywhere before evaporating into thin air.

 

[Caelia]

Caelia's footsteps sounded through the streets, the town and buildings seemingly void of any life. Her hand drifted to her side, outstretched as if reaching towards the flesh that littered the ground. Spores drifted off of her fungus-covered skin, planting itself in the decaying flesh to seed more Mycolyp life. However, she paused in her spreading of the spores as the bodies turned from ones of sponge flesh to hardened scales. Drawing from her past life, the elves were familiar but uncommon, and the others... She was unsure. The Mycolyp sent out a feeling of confusion at the sight, having never seen their kind before.

She was pulled out of this mental discussion by the sound of conflict, her eyes going over to the pile of bodies that was stacked, likely for disposal by some means or another. A girl was trying to climb out, it seemed, only for a creature to drag her back down. Something about the child's expression seemed... Odd, unlike the other younglings of flesh seen by her or the Mycolyp as a whole. She considered what to do, the various other Overgrown sending signals of fear while others sent signals of aggression.

However, she was pulled from this by two voices, bringing to Caelia's attention the two others that also roamed these desecrated streets. She tilted her head in curiosity, inspecting them. They were of flesh, that she could see. Still, they showed no hostility to the Mycolyp directly, and as such they were not a threat. Instead, they directed their words to the crocodilian. She turned her clouded eyes to the strange creature currently gripping the child once more, calling out, "Thing of scales, tell us who you are." The voice seemed to be two merged into one, half a smooth voice of a human and the other with the raspy strength of a rustling forest. She rose a hand in preparation for a potential attack, the roots that criss-crossed over hermossy skin extending until they reached the floor.

 

[Velle]

The crocodilian demon would heed no call, only returning with hisses and roars. It stood up and stepped over corpses, not minding where they set foot.
It rose it's arms wide apart in an agressive gesture...

 

[Merek Lothar]

Merek heard the hushed, hoarse voice of someone else and curled his lip in a snarl of irritation. The daemon was huge, with scimitar-like claws and a thick spine of obsidian shards pierced into the smoky flesh of its back. It roared and crushed a desiccated corpse under the bulk of its weight.

Catching a glimpse of the figure in front of the daemon, who was standing at the narrow alley, Merek made no sound as he took a deep breathe...

He leapt onto the back of the deamon, gripping onto its strange rippling unflesh and using its great onyx spine as a canker. He raised his blade and stuck it deep into the daemons neck at the base of its shoulder, as it screeched in pain and confusion, threatening to burst his eardrums with its pitch.

 

[Aremir]

Aremir stared in shock at the scene in front of him before remembering himself. Steadying his blade, he leaned back on his left foot before arching towards the demon in a slashing attack. He knew he couldn’t do much real damage, lest his sword pierce straight through the beast and injure the newcomer. Instead, he swiped his sword under the creatures knee, and made to grab the child from its grasp, hacking at the tendons of its wrist and forearm to assist in its letting go of the young elf, while the other arm wrapped gently yet firmly around the shoulders of the child.

He didn’t exactly appreciate the view more up close, and attempted to step to the right and pressing himself flush to the wall of the alley, away from the pile of bodies, with the child in his grip.

 

[Addy]

The mage kept far away from the rest until she had put this one or that one to rest mercifully with the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh. It would not do to leave these poor creatures to their suffering and slow and painful deaths. Soft strikes of her footwear against the stone covered streets announced her presence to the rest of the group as she witnessed this child being drug away in the maw of a giant reptile.

The number of teeth it showed was enough to dissuade anyone from getting too close... well, except for that guy. Addisyn watched with lofted brows as Merek lept onto the back of the beast. It was at this point she realized it might be time for her to lend her assistance in the matter. She wasn't sure if this creature was to blame for the death strewn along the streets of the city, but she didn't think it likely that the crocodile was going to speak to them.

Marked hands rose as she murmured the spells to summon her shadows, tendrils of black unfurling from her feet that soon darted along the ground towards the feet of the reptile. The consumption of mana could be felt by those sensitive to such things as those inky vines lifted from the ground and wrapped around the legs of the beast to try to keep it from retreating away with the child.

 

[Caelia]

Caelia watched as one of flesh leapt from behind, grappling the back of the creature and stabbing it's neck with a blade. Another came and rescued the child, slashing at the crocodilian beast in the process, before darting off to safety. Her eyes drifted to the ground, as she noticed another of flesh seem to pool the shadows around her, shooting off tendrils of darkness which enveloped the creatures legs.

She turned back to the beast, taking a few steps closer to it but maintaining some distance. Roots hung from her hand, scraping against the blood-stained path. Suddenly, she shot her hand forward, sending both roots and vines out like a whip, lashing at the scaled creature and wrapping around its arm and part of its chest. Once it was secure, she pulled her hand down forcefully, tugging the beast to the ground.

 

[Velle]

The kid was stranded between the demon's feet as he was dropped, only to be dragged off by yet another 'demonic humanoid' as they were dragged along to the sidelines of the conflict. He tried to struggle against but ended up bleeding over Aremir instead.

-

The degrading crocodilian bellowed, and shrieked horrendously as a blade got slated into it's back. It's shoulderblades quickly began to rip apart as tears were formed around the foreign metal. Nuisances. Nuisances, it gruffed briefly as a slash at it's legs to only notice them being dragged down by a mass of darkness akin to their ethereal flesh, binding the beast, no matter howm uch it tried to walk, it was in place. It tried to struggle against it's assailants but was quickly engulfed by rooting growths, binding the beast to the floor weather the man was still on it's back or not.

But the beast was heavily weakned, after a few laborous shrieks it went as still as a stone, it's body corroding away into nothingness first from where the blade had been

 

[Merek Lothar]

The beast's breathed hiked sharply as its body dissipated into the ether, leaving Merek clutching a fistful of its charring flesh, which he let scatter to the rapidly growing winds that howled through the tight alleyways. He was fascinated by the creature, and carefully pocketed a crumbling shard of its ashen remains like some form of souvenir.


'You should not have come here,' he addressed the elf he had helped, but barely noticed the child, as if it was nothing more than an afterthought. 'The call of this place is strong, but it is the call of the dead.' His voice was bitter and heavily accented in some mongrel eastern tongue, causing him to spit the words out rather inelegantly. Taking a step closer to the ranger, he locked eyes with him, 'Why have you come to this place?' he called out to the rest of the lifeless town, 'why are any of you here?' he questioned the thin air, knowing that there had to more people, this ranger was definitely not a mage.

 

[Aremir]

He stared defiantly back at the man in front of him, before glancing around the rest of the newcomers and bowing his head again. Releasing his grip on the child, he tried to explain himself. The piercing grey eyes of this newcomer, which seemed almost accusing to Aremir, unnerved him. "I was simply passing through the mountains, to the northern borders. I come from Belgrath." he explained. "If I am not mistaken, I was travelling directly behind you- I noticed tracks before the snow set in. Although I was not following you..." He lowered his voice even more than was usual, sending a glance down to the child.

"I simply noticed the vultures." he admit. Shaking his head, he looked back up at the man before him. "And what of yourself, stranger? If death has come to call, why have you answered?"

 

[Merek Lothar]

Merek bared his teeth in a crude, venomous smile that reeked of malice, 'Because the dead have told me tales of this place, and they speak of a prize...' Merek sheathed his blade and surveyed the watching newcomers as they circled the two like the vultures that still seethed in the air of the town. 'I will have what was promised before this is over, make no mistake,' he spoke both to Aremir and the shallow shapes of the watchers, 'stay out of my way, and if you try and take what is mine...'


He took one final step towards the ranger, glancing at the child and staring deep into his silvery, glistening elven eyes, 'I will kill you.' he spat threateningly.

 

[Caelia]

With a quick tug of the hand, the roots retreated, unraveling around the fading beast. The flesh and scales of the creature to seemed to decay and vanish on their own, dispersing into the air, out of sight. It was unlike any other life the Mycolyp has ever seen. Its body did not return to the ground so life may grow from it, instead it corroded, leaving nothing but the mere stench of death behind.

As the roots once more wrapped around Caelia's arms, she returned her gaze to the other newcomers that circled the pile of corpses. It seemed one, the one with skin like a corpse, desired answers. She stepped forward, the roots quickly merging with her arm once more, becoming one with skin. "The Mycolyp sensed the lure of death as well," she called, stepping closer so that she may come into view. "Who are you, that the dead call your name and bring promises of prizes?" Her voice was rigid, layered as the creaking of wood accompanied a voice not often used. The dead were close to the Mycolyp, gardens of potential life, but not once had they spoke, much less of a prize. Her eyes glanced to the two others she could see, the child and human. She did not speak, although her eyes lingered on the child in curiosity as to what had happened here, and an explanation as to what that creature was. She knew another lurked here as well, judging from the shadows that seemed to spring to life at their command. Caution seemed prudent.

 

[Addy]

The woman was unable to simply leave the child to bleed while everyone spoke around it. With a resolute gait, she marched over to the child while the men and the Mycolyp spoke about their reasons for being here. She could already tell that the older male elf was going to be an absolute peach to deal with. The satchel on her back was lowered to the ground, the wooden toggles pushed through the dark leather as she began to retrieve the medical supplies she had brought along. Long strips of clean cloth were wound around the tiny thing's arms as she spoke in soothing tones to the young elf.

"I know you probably can't understand me but I'm not here to harm you." Soft shushing sounds escaped her lips as she tied off the bandages and packed her things away. Other than what she did, she would not touch the child or try to coerce it in any way. As she stood, her eyes turned on Marek with a scrutinous stare. If he wanted to question her, he would have to do it directly. She wasn't willingly offering up her information on why she was there and he seemed far more interested in slinging threats at Aremir.

While they were all distracted, she was retrieving samples of this ash and *inspecting* those bodies still laying about. The raven on her shoulder let out a soft caw and flapped its wings in a huffy manner while she bent down and threw him off balance. "Be a good boy, Tom, scout out this area for any more of those... things?" Her whispers to the bird were meant to be quiet enough as not to be heard by the rest, but there were elves in the group, after all.

 

[Aremir]

All the defensiveness he had felt earlier faded from the rangers eyes, as he lit up like a candle. Despite the rather intimidating man standing very close, being decently taller than him, and having been covered in demonic blood which now scattered to the already dark winds, Aremir stepped even closer. Ignoring the threats, he softly, if excitedly, exclaimed, "Do you mean to say that you know what happened to this god-forsaken place? I admit, I don't think I could stand having such a mystery weigh down on me forever. The bodies seem to be fresh, but I cannot think of what caused this massacre- Sure enough, there don't seem to be any survivors except the child. I mean, whatever did this couldn't've of fled with such haste? Without leaving any tracks? The paths here are difficult and treacherous, not meant for those rushing away from the scene of a murder. And what a murder it is!" He rambled, before remembering the child.

"Ah... if you can understand me, I'm sorry for my... disrespect." He whispered formally, piercing gaze seeming more curious than remorseful as he stared at the child. "Can you speak in the tongues of man, I wonder?" he spoke in rusty elvish as their wounds were bound. He turned back to the stranger in front of him, a bit more sheepish, but still intense.

 

[Velle]

The hissing present from before...clearly did not come from the sole crocodilian slain just now. It did grow stronger, louder, but not so loud to interfere with the chat of the group.

-

The kid slouched against the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest. He could not understand any word spoken and every single individual seemed like a whole different kind of stranger...talk about sheltered.
His blank eyes shifted between the four before settling for the calmer tone of Addy, then again shifting to Aremir.

His hands seemed tattered and marked in mite wounds and scratches, some wounds sealed, others freshly reopned. At least he seemed a little more calmed now and less likely to struggle away.
But that was likely from his loopyness due the injuries.

 

[Merek Lothar]

Merek turned to face Caelia, his face shriveled into a look of disgust at the inhuman, organic creature he saw standing in front of him, daring to question his choice. 'Merek,' he snapped, 'Merek Lothar...' he took a step towards the Mycolyp, circling her. 'You do not possess the talent, you would not know, but the dead do speak of a prize here, I can hear them even now,' he tapped a finger to his temple.

He looked at the child who was now slumped on the side of the wall, 'I will not waste my time with a child, do with it what you wish,' he sauntered off, drawing his blade and narrowing his eyes as he attempted to figure out a path deeper into the town.

'I'm leaving, do not follow me...' he snarled, before leaving.

 

[Caelia]

"Merek," she said calmly, as if sounding the name out, unfazed by the spiteful tone taken on by his words. Her darkened eyes looked over the man, simply saying, "You hear the voice of the dead. We hear the voice of all the living. May the dead guide you better than they guided themselves." As the final word was uttered, she turned, the sound of creaking wood accompanying the movement.

She shifted her gaze to the child, who was tended to by a woman of flesh and shadow as they spoke. She stepped closer, looking them over. "Little sapling, already exposed to such death. Their brood returned to the earth so soon." She extended a hand, leaning down to be closer to their height. From the moss and wood that covered her palm, a flower sprouted, quickly growing to a full shape. She picked the flower from her palm, handing it to the elven child. She stood up, glancing to the other man that stood beside the child. She tried to listen for the hissing, trying to find a direction. "The hissing did not end with the scaled one's death. More lurk here."