Last edited:
Lore Book Revelations
- Thread starter Drackos
- Start date
- Status
I – RISING STAR
I am the God who witnesses the end of the world.
It was like a dream.
The night sky was so beautiful that night, watching from above upon my throne, as their blue marble fell to void.
One by one, stars were extinguished. It devoured planets until we soared through a universe of utter dark. There, I saw three continents devoured in Chaos.
Our demise happens over time. Cataclysmic disasters fit for legends; earthquakes that shatter entire continents, solar flares that lurch through the cosmos, licking planets in magnificent radio bands, ultraviolet and even spikes of gamma. I watch as entire oceans turn bright orange with plague.
It is awesome and appalling.
A single flash of power triggered the end. I was cut from this cloth, born of a felled pantheon.
From that earth came the star. From the heavens it appeared to fall, but in truth it was rising. Rising from the planet from which it came. It soared at inhuman speeds, spiraling through the night sky as it fell to void. A single light in the vastness of cosmic infinity.
I closed my eyes. I feel coarse sand in my hands, lifting a handful as I do. It feels like the shifting mountains and the forge of souls.
I step from my throne and turn toward my palace under the darkened sky and open my eyes. Home no longer.
And then I turn again, facing toward the sky once more. It has grown bright, so very bright.
It craters into the temple. An impact that ignites the sky in an ephemeral yet brilliant flash of white light.
We fall.
I am the God who witnesses the end of the world.
It was like a dream.
The night sky was so beautiful that night, watching from above upon my throne, as their blue marble fell to void.
One by one, stars were extinguished. It devoured planets until we soared through a universe of utter dark. There, I saw three continents devoured in Chaos.
Our demise happens over time. Cataclysmic disasters fit for legends; earthquakes that shatter entire continents, solar flares that lurch through the cosmos, licking planets in magnificent radio bands, ultraviolet and even spikes of gamma. I watch as entire oceans turn bright orange with plague.
It is awesome and appalling.
A single flash of power triggered the end. I was cut from this cloth, born of a felled pantheon.
From that earth came the star. From the heavens it appeared to fall, but in truth it was rising. Rising from the planet from which it came. It soared at inhuman speeds, spiraling through the night sky as it fell to void. A single light in the vastness of cosmic infinity.
I closed my eyes. I feel coarse sand in my hands, lifting a handful as I do. It feels like the shifting mountains and the forge of souls.
I step from my throne and turn toward my palace under the darkened sky and open my eyes. Home no longer.
And then I turn again, facing toward the sky once more. It has grown bright, so very bright.
It craters into the temple. An impact that ignites the sky in an ephemeral yet brilliant flash of white light.
We fall.
II – ERSETU
I am the God who holds the Underworld.
We have no sky to behold. But we witness the battle lines of the cosmic war. For months we have battled encroaching Void; it is like fighting the tides themselves, punching at water that will not recede.
Falnir, my champion, battles alongside me. Our spears dampened with the blood of untold enemies not seen since the days of the ancient cosmos.
I can feel it above.
Our fall.
The earth shakes, shattering entire civilizations. Winds whip the lands, flattening cities. Cosmic light sears the world as the stars die.
Souls line the dreary caverns as the Twin Fates weave their unknown mystics.
Nearly half of Irkalla has been consumed in Chaos. My throne, long since devoured with my palace, is a memory I scarcely recall.
I scream for help. I plead. Yet no one answers. Brothers have fallen from the skies, children dying above.
We must fight on.
I am the God who holds the Underworld.
We have no sky to behold. But we witness the battle lines of the cosmic war. For months we have battled encroaching Void; it is like fighting the tides themselves, punching at water that will not recede.
Falnir, my champion, battles alongside me. Our spears dampened with the blood of untold enemies not seen since the days of the ancient cosmos.
I can feel it above.
Our fall.
The earth shakes, shattering entire civilizations. Winds whip the lands, flattening cities. Cosmic light sears the world as the stars die.
Souls line the dreary caverns as the Twin Fates weave their unknown mystics.
Nearly half of Irkalla has been consumed in Chaos. My throne, long since devoured with my palace, is a memory I scarcely recall.
I scream for help. I plead. Yet no one answers. Brothers have fallen from the skies, children dying above.
We must fight on.
III – DEICIDE
Fields of Suffering, Irkalla
Screams of horror filled the battlefield, ushered in by a literal chorus of dark harmony that monotonously chanted. These creatures of the Void…these monsters.were something far darker than Falnir had seen before. No god had created them. They were unaspected, beings of nothingness before the concept of something could even exist. And yet they were given form, walking amongst the beings of something, of order. Falnir swung his giant greatsword, bifurcating a number of these malformed entities that stood before him. Falnir protected Ereshkigal with his very life day in and out now. It had become routine at this point, practically.
These beings were practically formless. Shadows of purple energy, amalgams of violet fluids, tentacled monsters from beyond the veil. Individually most were weak. But together they could lay an army low. Their endless numbers posed a key problem for even Irkalla, a place with near limitless potential for soldiers. Near limitless. Falnir cursed the very words in his mind.
“Stand behind me, my Queen.” Falnir stated, brandishing his body as Ereshkigal’s shield. She had come to the battle, offering her strength to empower their army. She was not the most proficient combatant, but she was an incredible power able to provide the greatest support to her comrades.
“They grow stronger by the day. Our surprise attacks at the bridge of the Gates seems to be waning in effectiveness. Her voice was troubled, lingering doubt plagued her as the Ruler of the Dead pondered their next move. Would they retreat from the Fields? What would that mean for the flow of souls?
“Hold the line!” He commanded, shouting above the chorus of their demise as best as he could. He needed to rally his soldiers against the Void. He wasn’t sure if these beings were steadfastly loyal to Abzu or if they were simply opportunists seeking to reclaim their world. It mattered little to him. Another swing, this time rending a titanic flesh beast asunder. As it collapsed it burst into violet flames and through it an assailant.
A grey hooded figure much smaller than the beast he had just felled. A human no less. Falnir stood for a moment, defenseless. His sword was held above his head but he did not react, determining this human to not be a foe. And yet in the moment he made that determination the human had already drawn his weapon. A small Void-touched dagger that was driven straight through Falnir’s robes and his skeletal body. “Gah!” He shouted, stumbling backwards and he dropped his sword to rend the assailant. But by the time he did so the man was already gone, vanished as fast as he had appeared through yet another rift. Had he traversed the Void itself? Or perhaps there had been a hole somewhere else in Irkalla. How could the human have entered in the first place?
Falnir fell to his knees, clutching at the dagger but unable to remove it. Whether the assassin knew it or not, the dagger implanted in the Burial King’s body surged with the Void.
“FALNIR!” Ereshkigal shouted, rushing to his side and placing her hands on his chest as if to heal him with whatever power over the Dead she had. But it was pointless; for Falnir did not die a conventional death. He had been slain, falling to the fields as his eyes glazed over. He was still as the battle raged around them.
Fields of Suffering, Irkalla
Screams of horror filled the battlefield, ushered in by a literal chorus of dark harmony that monotonously chanted. These creatures of the Void…these monsters.were something far darker than Falnir had seen before. No god had created them. They were unaspected, beings of nothingness before the concept of something could even exist. And yet they were given form, walking amongst the beings of something, of order. Falnir swung his giant greatsword, bifurcating a number of these malformed entities that stood before him. Falnir protected Ereshkigal with his very life day in and out now. It had become routine at this point, practically.
These beings were practically formless. Shadows of purple energy, amalgams of violet fluids, tentacled monsters from beyond the veil. Individually most were weak. But together they could lay an army low. Their endless numbers posed a key problem for even Irkalla, a place with near limitless potential for soldiers. Near limitless. Falnir cursed the very words in his mind.
“Stand behind me, my Queen.” Falnir stated, brandishing his body as Ereshkigal’s shield. She had come to the battle, offering her strength to empower their army. She was not the most proficient combatant, but she was an incredible power able to provide the greatest support to her comrades.
“They grow stronger by the day. Our surprise attacks at the bridge of the Gates seems to be waning in effectiveness. Her voice was troubled, lingering doubt plagued her as the Ruler of the Dead pondered their next move. Would they retreat from the Fields? What would that mean for the flow of souls?
“Hold the line!” He commanded, shouting above the chorus of their demise as best as he could. He needed to rally his soldiers against the Void. He wasn’t sure if these beings were steadfastly loyal to Abzu or if they were simply opportunists seeking to reclaim their world. It mattered little to him. Another swing, this time rending a titanic flesh beast asunder. As it collapsed it burst into violet flames and through it an assailant.
A grey hooded figure much smaller than the beast he had just felled. A human no less. Falnir stood for a moment, defenseless. His sword was held above his head but he did not react, determining this human to not be a foe. And yet in the moment he made that determination the human had already drawn his weapon. A small Void-touched dagger that was driven straight through Falnir’s robes and his skeletal body. “Gah!” He shouted, stumbling backwards and he dropped his sword to rend the assailant. But by the time he did so the man was already gone, vanished as fast as he had appeared through yet another rift. Had he traversed the Void itself? Or perhaps there had been a hole somewhere else in Irkalla. How could the human have entered in the first place?
Falnir fell to his knees, clutching at the dagger but unable to remove it. Whether the assassin knew it or not, the dagger implanted in the Burial King’s body surged with the Void.
“FALNIR!” Ereshkigal shouted, rushing to his side and placing her hands on his chest as if to heal him with whatever power over the Dead she had. But it was pointless; for Falnir did not die a conventional death. He had been slain, falling to the fields as his eyes glazed over. He was still as the battle raged around them.
IV - BESIEGED ON MULTIPLE FRONTS
Crypts of the Immortals
“A small explosion seems to have rocked the sarcophagi here,” Goetia commented, observing the situation in the Crypts with Ereshkigal standing at his side. “What, no who, was stored here?” The Creation, King of the Demon Gods, asked on behalf of his master, king, and father. While Solomon dealt with Emiya in the East, Goetia was sent to liaise with the Queen of the Dead in her war against the Void. He pointed directly at the emptied coffin, trying to direct the apathetic and demoralized Ereshkigal’s attention.
Ereshkigal stood silent for a time, observing the rows of undisturbed coffins aside from the few in the immediate proximity of the one that had its lid thrown off in a violent explosion of power. “Know this, King of Demons, I had not been born when these coffins were entombed here. But Falnir once told me…” She hesitated, fist clenching in anger at just invoking the Burial King’s name. “That Nergal, and his Pantheonic brethren, stored the bodies of the first Immortals here, rent of their souls.”
Goetia knelt at the side of the empty sarcophagus, running a single demonic hand along the lip of the smooth cold granite. Significant enchantments had been placed on the tomb; measures that had no doubt weakened over thousands of years but were nonetheless put in place to keep what was inside of it from ever escaping. “At their height, Marduk’s Immortals may have only numbered in the low thousands. Though it is impossible to say with any certainty. Allegedly, their kind would come to split into two distinct groups; those of the East, who would go on to found the Golden Empire, and the West, who would eventually form a community of monks on Kamiyasumi. Those on Kamiyasumi generally lived on eternal but in the East…they surrendered their power after a time. Ascending to the heavens as time went on which eventually caused Gold to tarnish to Silver and then Bronze.” Goetia turned back toward Ereshkigal, towering far above her and looking down to meet her gaze. “Who was laid to rest here, Ereshkigal?”
The Queen of the Dead shook her head, no answer to offer. “I…I have a war to fight, Goetia. There are more pressing matters for humanity than a single Immortal who may, or may not, have left Irkalla. For all we know, an errant Void-being arrived in this dimension somehow and…” She paused again, a desperate attempt to rationalize what she was seeing.
“A war, yes. But there are plainly other forces at play here. You can’t ignore-”
“I can ignore what I damn well please!” She screamed, interrupting the Demon God’s graven warning. “My champion is dead, Irkalla is in ruins, the flow of souls has ceased….can you not see that they’ve already won? Our efforts merely prolong an inevitable conclusion wrought by our own hubris and miscalculations. I…” She held her tongue as despair crept through her psyche before she finally vanished, tearing a rift into the dimension that held the Immortals’ coffins.
Goetia remained in the crypt in silence, standing there as he observed for a time and contemplated the meaning of the events as they transpired before him. In that silence, the Demon God King turned toward another coffin; albeit the coffin was only slightly ajar compared to the rupture that had wrecked the first. “A second…?” He pondered aloud, stepping toward it with his massive frame, inspecting it closely. Unlike the first, the coffin here appeared to have been moved from the outside, its lid pushed aside enough to reveal its contents. Though it was empty from within in the first place. Or perhaps its contents were exhumed and a poor attempt was made to seal it again to conceal the evidence of its disturbance…the thought disturbed Goetia deeply as he made his leave, stepping away from the coffins and turning his back to the endless rows before stepping into the portal. Solomon would want to hear of his findings immediately.
Crypts of the Immortals
“A small explosion seems to have rocked the sarcophagi here,” Goetia commented, observing the situation in the Crypts with Ereshkigal standing at his side. “What, no who, was stored here?” The Creation, King of the Demon Gods, asked on behalf of his master, king, and father. While Solomon dealt with Emiya in the East, Goetia was sent to liaise with the Queen of the Dead in her war against the Void. He pointed directly at the emptied coffin, trying to direct the apathetic and demoralized Ereshkigal’s attention.
Ereshkigal stood silent for a time, observing the rows of undisturbed coffins aside from the few in the immediate proximity of the one that had its lid thrown off in a violent explosion of power. “Know this, King of Demons, I had not been born when these coffins were entombed here. But Falnir once told me…” She hesitated, fist clenching in anger at just invoking the Burial King’s name. “That Nergal, and his Pantheonic brethren, stored the bodies of the first Immortals here, rent of their souls.”
Goetia knelt at the side of the empty sarcophagus, running a single demonic hand along the lip of the smooth cold granite. Significant enchantments had been placed on the tomb; measures that had no doubt weakened over thousands of years but were nonetheless put in place to keep what was inside of it from ever escaping. “At their height, Marduk’s Immortals may have only numbered in the low thousands. Though it is impossible to say with any certainty. Allegedly, their kind would come to split into two distinct groups; those of the East, who would go on to found the Golden Empire, and the West, who would eventually form a community of monks on Kamiyasumi. Those on Kamiyasumi generally lived on eternal but in the East…they surrendered their power after a time. Ascending to the heavens as time went on which eventually caused Gold to tarnish to Silver and then Bronze.” Goetia turned back toward Ereshkigal, towering far above her and looking down to meet her gaze. “Who was laid to rest here, Ereshkigal?”
The Queen of the Dead shook her head, no answer to offer. “I…I have a war to fight, Goetia. There are more pressing matters for humanity than a single Immortal who may, or may not, have left Irkalla. For all we know, an errant Void-being arrived in this dimension somehow and…” She paused again, a desperate attempt to rationalize what she was seeing.
“A war, yes. But there are plainly other forces at play here. You can’t ignore-”
“I can ignore what I damn well please!” She screamed, interrupting the Demon God’s graven warning. “My champion is dead, Irkalla is in ruins, the flow of souls has ceased….can you not see that they’ve already won? Our efforts merely prolong an inevitable conclusion wrought by our own hubris and miscalculations. I…” She held her tongue as despair crept through her psyche before she finally vanished, tearing a rift into the dimension that held the Immortals’ coffins.
Goetia remained in the crypt in silence, standing there as he observed for a time and contemplated the meaning of the events as they transpired before him. In that silence, the Demon God King turned toward another coffin; albeit the coffin was only slightly ajar compared to the rupture that had wrecked the first. “A second…?” He pondered aloud, stepping toward it with his massive frame, inspecting it closely. Unlike the first, the coffin here appeared to have been moved from the outside, its lid pushed aside enough to reveal its contents. Though it was empty from within in the first place. Or perhaps its contents were exhumed and a poor attempt was made to seal it again to conceal the evidence of its disturbance…the thought disturbed Goetia deeply as he made his leave, stepping away from the coffins and turning his back to the endless rows before stepping into the portal. Solomon would want to hear of his findings immediately.
- Status