AC2:Announcements - 2003/05 - Desecration
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May Episode: "Desecration"
At a spot that had once been the shore of Lake Artefon, a small party has gathered. The dam that the Drudges constructed at the request of their undead masters has erased the lake. This mixed group of Humans, Lugians, and Tumeroks are all arranged around a small bonfire and the halo of light it casts to dispel the night's darkness. The party seems almost to cling to this light for fear of what lurks out in the night. Closest to the fire is an ancient man, his head covered with thin wisps of white hair, his face a mosaic of wrinkles. His nearly sightless eyes, a dull, milky color, seem to be looking into the fire. Some of those surrounding him wonder if he is as ancient as the tale he has promised to tell.
"The long procession snaked its way around the banks of the River Prosper, making its way toward Artefon. At its head, bearers carried an honored burden: four massive biers. Atop each bier lay a massive stone sarcophagus. Within these sarcophagi rested the remains of our greatest leaders. The names of these great ones are well known…"
The old man pauses as he says each name.
"Saint Elysa Strathelar."
"The noble Thorsten Cragstone, whose sacrifice allowed all to live free."
"Aun Aulatah, who defeated the Hea and united the Tumeroks into the Shi tribe."
"And Lord Kresovus, first lord of Linvak Tukal."
The ancient man turns his eyes as if looking above all those assembled. His voice takes on an almost toneless quality.
"The Fall of the Kings had devastated the lands and upset all the places where these great ones had lain. The Underground City, which served as a many humans' first home in Dereth, had collapsed. Old Cragstone had been swallowed by the earth. Marae Lassel, the Tumeroks homelands, had sunk beneath the ocean's waves, while Linvak Tukal stood in ruins. A new place was needed, a place where they could be remembered forever."
The man pauses, but his eyes still stare out into the darkness above.
"Artefon was to be that place."
The man blinks, waking from his revery. His dull eyes move from face to face, examining the party surrounding him.
"All of the races came together to build the tombs and catacombs. The Lugians lent their expertise and strength to carving the chambers from the rock. The dexterous hands of we Humans cut the ornate carvings and inscriptions that decorated each tomb. The Tumeroks spoke to spirits of nature, guiding them so that the tombs would always be filled with the green of life."
"Years were devoted to the effort, and many of our honored dead were interned in the catacombs that snaked beneath the ground. Yet, as we found out when we left the Shelters, that effort seems to have been for nothing. Soon after the last soul was entombed there, the Nemesis was upon us. In fleeing to the Shelters, our ancestors had set wards to protect them from the portalspace magics of the Nemesis. Those who know the fate of the Fetterguard know the power of those wards; they rippled the surface of Dereth, and as the land shifted under their power, Artefon sunk beneath the waves."
The ancient man quickly turns his attention back to the fire before him.
"It was a wonder to me to finally see the lands our people had left behind. After seeing what had become of Artefon, I had hoped to someday see this city stand above the waves again. But not in this way."
The man gasps sharply, revealing an internal struggle to hold back his anguish.
"Not in this way. It was to have been at our hands that these tombs be restored. We would make it so that generations to come would know of those who rested within and give them the honor they deserve."
Looking up to those around him once more, the man wipes a tear from his eye.
"Please, I beg you, find out what has happened. Learn whether our honored dead still rest undisturbed. You must… "
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