Dark Age Year 871
Sixth day of the First month
The Deadlands, a barren and desolate wasteland found in the south-eastern part of Aria, is a dead zone, a disgusting blemish on an otherwise perfect landscape. In stark contrast to the bright meadows, rolling hills, and lush forests that populate the continent of Aria, no life grows or thrives in the Deadlands. The only certainty in the Deadlands is death. With the intense heat that can cook your flesh inside out, the sandstorms that will strip your skin inch by inch, and the poisonous water and plants that can sicken even those with the strongest constitution. The few creatures that call the Deadlands home, like all life in Aria, they must follow only one rule: only the strongest will survive. For that is the one and only truth in this world.
However, life in the Deadlands is far from uneventful. Among the caves and rock formations that dot the landscape, providing the only refuge from the harsh conditions, lie deep, dark caverns and hidden underground ruins from a civilization long forgotten by history. It is in these caves and old ruins that one would discover that the Deadlands are not as lifeless as the name suggests, as many people call them home. Some are outcasts, barely surviving on the fringes of human society, while others, not belonging to the races of man, such as the nomadic tribes of goblins, orcs, and other such foul creatures, fight among themselves for scarce resources. It is a harsh existence, but one that possesses its own virtues if viewed from a certain perspective.
In the Deadlands, beyond the petty conflicts over food and water between outlaws and the inhuman savages who inhabit the area, a more sinister presence lurks. Deep within a cave, nestled in an ancient ruin, a mysterious ritual unfolds. Within a circular pavilion hewn from rock, supported by weathered stone columns and a decaying roof, faint rays of moonlight filter through small openings.
Cloaked and hooded figures, clad in vibrant green robes with a black scale-like trim reminiscent of snakeskin, stand within the pavilion. Adorned with ornate gold and silver bracelets and jewellery fashioned in the likeness of serpents, their eyes gleam with amethysts, emeralds, and rubies, reflecting the eerie light of the full moon that bathes the scene. Faint chanting can be heard as it echoes softly off the walls.
In the pavilion, a deep and dark pit holds mysterious figures standing over it, as if observing something. At first glance, it may appear as an empty and uninteresting hole. However, for those who appreciate the pitch-black darkness, it exudes a unique allure. As moonlight filters through the ceiling, casting a bluish hue into the pit, the truth is unveiled. Inside the pit, numerous snakes slither and writhe—some venomous with dagger-like fangs, other constrictors with robust bodies. From holes in the pit wall, a sanguine fluid begins to pour out, covering and dyeing the snakes a crimson hue. Amidst this writhing mass, a girl of modest beauty lies, her torn clothes revealing her bare olive skin. Snakes coil around her, tightening around her breasts and waist, biting and injecting venom into her veins, with it slowly seeping out onto her skin. Others explore every orifice of her body, moving in and out at their own leisure.
The girl’s lips were full and soft, complemented by a slender neck that enticed onlookers to kiss her and savour her taste. Her bosom was firm, her nipples erect, inviting others to snuggle against her chest and suckle. Her arms and legs moved across her body with a grace that surpassed even the most skilled acrobats. As her body convulsed in movements of pure rapture, sweat dripping from every pore. Her moans and screams of pleasure were so loud that they drowned out the strange chanting from the figures above her. It was a sight that many would covet, as only the most skilled lovers could bring about and witness such a display. To see a pure maiden brought to the throes of passion, her face shifting from youthful innocence to seductive rapture, was a sight that could evoke tears of joy or despair from many a father.
It was a captivating sight that could ignite the primal desires of both men and women alike. It was widely acknowledged that women, with their allure and charm, held the power to captivate and enchant those they wished to attract, regardless of social norms or societal standards. Above the pit, figures observed in eerie silence, their expressions concealed behind stoic masks. Despite the provocative display below, these figures remained unmoved. The woman’s passionate cries and seductive acrobatics failed to elicit any reaction from them. What is more shocking: the act itself or the fact that it inspires no reaction?
However, soon black marks began to appear on the girl’s skin, forming a spiral pattern on her arms, legs, and around her breasts. Symmetrical markings also appeared on her face, with lines extending from her forehead down past her eyes and lips, stopping just past her chin. Inverted triangle marks showed up in the centre of her cheeks. One of the figures, more well-dressed than the others and holding a long golden sceptre, smiled widely upon seeing this. He turned to another figure, the one leading the chanting, and with a quick nod and a tap of his staff, the chanting abruptly stopped. More figures entered the room, taller, more muscular, and heavily armoured than the ones chanting over the pit, carrying a massive stone circle. As the mysterious figures began to leave the room, another group moved to cover the pit with a large stone circle, blocking out any remaining light. The girl was now surrounded by darkness, with only her own cries of pleasure and the snakes in the pit for company.
As all the figures start to go their separate ways going down the different passageways that make up their underground home, outside of one of the mysterious figures the one currently currying a sceptre. one of the more heavily armoured figures walks up to the mysterious figure with the sceptre, whispering in his ear.
“Head priest, I have received word from one of my scouts that three individuals have recently entered the border of our territory.”
“I see, are any of them viable for our plans?” The Head Priest turned his head towards the pavilion, not making direct eye contact with the armoured figure.
“Yes, Head Priest, two of them look like warriors in the prime of their lives, and the other is a boy who appears to be on the cusp of becoming an adolescent.”
The Head Priest smiled widely at the news; his eyes filled with the light of satisfaction. “Keep an eye on them, and when the time is right, capture them. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Head Priest,” the armoured figure stated, giving a deep bow.”
“May Nagazarzul guide your hand.” The Head Priest gives a knowing look at the armoured figure.
The armoured figure gives another knowing bow and turns to leave, leaving the head priest alone to wander in the passageways. Eventually, he exits a cave on a high vantage point. Pulling down his hood, he reveals his yellow, snakelike eyes and small needle-like teeth. His eyes hungrily scan the surrounding area, with the sands bathed in a blue hue and some bits of sand starting to twinkle like stars in the night sky. It was rather pretty to look at. As he continued to stare out at the vast desert wasteland before him, he saw in the far distance what looked like a smoke trail from a small campfire. His eyes lit up, and a wide smile revealed dagger-like teeth, that gleamed in the moonlight.
“Soon, the creation of the vessel will be underway. All that is required is the second half, and then we can make the final preparations for your vessel. Soon, my lord, you will walk among us as you did centuries ago.“ He spoke aloud as if he wanted the world to hear his words. Reaching into his robe, he pulled out what looked like a wooden snake. After speaking a few words to it, the snake came to life, slithering down his arm and onto the rocky hills overlooking the vast desert plain below.
“It’s always good to have a backup plan,” he thought to himself as he turned his back and headed back inside the cave with the full moon shining behind him. As he did so, he heard what sounded like the howling of a wolf far in the distance. He paused for a moment before heading deeper into the cave.
“Never a dull moment in the Deadlands.” he thought to himself as his form sank into the shadows of the cave and disappeared from sight.
