It was a strange sensation… Living. Opening my eyes and hearing a command echoing faintly through my brain. “Destroy my minions! Aid me in this battle!” Or words to that effect. What complete tosh.
It was easy to dismiss them and replace them with far more pressing concerns, namely who was trying to undo Ora’s will, and how best to stop them. The fight after I took my first “breath” again was trivial, but that is to be expected when you raise an army of the world’s greatest and expect them to obey when in reality they truly have more important things to do. My memory is hazy, but the one doing all the shouting about minions got held by various powers and his throat slit quite quickly, it was much more pleasant after that, the annoying buzzing of his voice went away. It was then a simple matter of grouping up and finding out how we stop this.
At last! Success, after 6 months of hunting for clues and meeting dead ends a lead from our fellow Awakened may prove useful. Although its vagueness does not fill me with confidence. “Go to this temple and find… Something. Something wrong we must discover.” Alas, a lead is a lead and our vanguard set forth, finding this temple was easy and I feel a connection with it as I walk its grounds as of course, it is a glorious structure to Ora. It was however… occupied. Creatures identified by our resident Botanist, Gregor, as Displacer Beasts lurked in the exterior. They fell easily enough to the Captain’s strikes, almost too easily. Something that was confirmed as one charged me, losing some of its limbs in the process. Upon deeper investigation it appeared to be a wounded jungle cat and that this “Displacer Beast” was just a facade. To see someone or something defile Ora’s will and her nature so, is… troubling.
The temple clearly had a sequence to open it utilising four crystals placed on pedestals, the pedestals also had unnatural plants growing out of them, something that was confirmed by the wounds they dealt to Cyrus and they appeared to have some level of sentience. Upon examining the colours of the crystals, I recalled the teachings of Ora and the natural cycle. This allowed me to determine the sequence.
Blue for her life giving water, Green for the life that blooms, Red for the fire that cleanses and Grey for the ash that forms, returning their energies to Her and restarting the cycle once more.
Yet, these unnatural plants prevented entry, having jammed the door shut with their roots. We tried various things to remove the plants, until Cyrus tried the gentle embrace of healing and care. That seemed to cause the plants to retract and disappear and we quickly opened the door and proceeded below.
Exploring the lower area of the temple after descending for a minute it was clear that nobody had been here in a long time. There was also a troubling buzzing sound filling the chamber, but sourceless. After exploring further and using the Captain’s ram to batter open a few doors a projectile like a stinger struck into the wood near Xochi, the buzzing sound was a swarm of wasps and with creaking steps sentient trees stepped in. Battle commenced on this sacred ground.
A swarm of mutilated creatures, creatures opposing the very nature of Ora stepped or swooped in, stingers flying and flurries of creaking wooden limbs. I found that my vines, the blessings from Ora herself, struggled to penetrate the bark of the awakened trees yet I did my utmost to contain them to allow my companions to strike them down. This was a long and grueling task of whittling away at these foes. However, clearly Ora deemed that we were on the right path, as reinforcements arrived in the form of Peter Hood who aided us in striking down the remaining buzzing foes and grizzled bark of corrupted wood.
As silence descended, we began to explore this subterranean section of the temple in earnest. This is certainly an ancient temple to Ora, as shown by the crafted mosaics we locate, that once would have been truly beautiful, telling the tale of Ora’s will and the cycles of our very society. They are worn and faded now. Time has not been kind to this place. What next catches our attention is somehow even less kind to this sacred ground. Gearing. Pipes. Mechanisms. Whilst the materials used and the age of them fits the surrounding temple, the structure itself feels… odd.
There is a grand contraption set up as an Altar. It is trying its best to look in keeping with the temple itself, but I am positive it is wrong. Through discussion and joint analysis we determine that this in fact, does not fit. And we assault the pipes to break this defilement of Ora’s realm. The explosion that rocks the room as dark necrotic energy is released from the pipes nearly brings the ceiling down, as well as nearly seriously injuring several of our company. This however, appears to have opened a secret entry below the pipelines and the altar and we descend.
The sight that greets us is extremely unexpected, even in a temple dedicated to Ora. A tree grows in a pool of water except like everything before, it feels wrong. This tree is massive, its trunk extending into the ceiling and presumably beyond. I am unsettled by this place, this corruption of Ora’s realm. One of the corrupted trees, a Wood Woad, stands in the glowing pool. As we watch, it offers its limbs towards the central 40ft tall tree and its bark begins to crack, energy flashes through it and its greenery burns away as the bark snaps and the Wood Woad turns into ash. The central vast tree pulses and a wrongness fills my very being. Using my senses granted to me by Ora’s Embrace and through communication with the more magically inclined members of our group, this tree is heavily infused with magic. A number of rituals are present, rituals of containment, nourishment and channelling, and another to encourage growth which has clearly been working. This tree is purposefully placed and most importantly for our purpose, this tree is being constantly fuelled by necrotic energy. My senses tell me that this is the most evil tree I have encountered, a darkness is entrenched in its bark that seeps into its roots. It must be destroyed.
Fortunately, we have Gregor and he quickly concocts an effective explosive that burns the tree away. It screams. I pull the charred bark aside and the Captain cuts his way in, revealing, strangely, paperwork. A journal.
A journal from Hazrador, The Fifth Skull. The being of pure evil who foolishly tried to summon us to aid him. Reading the remnants of pages it speaks at length about laylines and unlocking things. It also addresses the Tua Moe, the graveyard where we were laid to rest throughout the centuries. It appears, we were a distraction. A gamble that maybe would have paid off. Whatever Hazrador was planning, we were not the end goal. Nay, we were a bonus.
