Doedre Darktongue is the insidious infection that threatens to make septic the great and terrible wound that is Sarn.
However, any certainty that I had as to her exact whereabouts has been sundered by the sheer stench of her presence. We shall have to deduce her location from those who know the area best, these locals that cling to Sarn like hungry maggots.
Once more into the breach, and once more we return victorious. Although, I have to admit, I did not relish the sensation of imbibing that foul witch's soul. I felt decidedly... unclean.
Still, our journey nears completion. To the north lies Highgate and the cessation of our efforts to extract the Dark Ember from my dearly departed Beast.
And none too soon. Every hour Kitava's strength grows, and the longer he and the other gods dwell in this land, the less is humanity's chance of survival.
In Izaro's grotesque little garden, you'll find an old friend of mine.
The yawning maw that is Yugul... but a self-portrait of what that pathetic creature has come to believe about the nature of fear. Those who look upon him see their own fears reflected in his horrifying visage.
Vaal scholars seemed compelled to answer all manner of strange and troubling questions. Yugul was one such scholar. Whilst plumbing the depths of humanity, he came to believe that there was no truer expression of humanity than pure terror.
He would induce terror in children and then capture their reactions within eldritch mirrors, devices of his own creation that could petrify fear for extended study.
Through his gallery of reflected terror, Yugul came to understand human nature so well that he was able to manipulate his way into the Vaal halls of leadership, and eventually grew so feared and renowned that he ascended into godhood.
If we are to see the dawn of a new era for humankind, the sun must be taught to behave herself.
Upon that mighty span between Sarn's left hand and its right, Solaris burns to consume every single moment of existence. Sparing no thought for life and its needs, she would see the world parched barren before she yields to reason.
The sun must be allowed to set so that it may rise again as a blessing, not a curse.
Self-loving Solaris. All the light in the world, yet blinded by her own pride.
Not once did she pause to question the truth of her sister's betrayal. Instead, she gloated over her sister's transgressions, proclaiming herself greater and more honourable than Lunaris could ever be.
I suppose one shouldn't be surprised when a sun deity takes the higher ground.
One of two sisters who ruled the most populous and powerful of the ancient Azmerian tribes. Solaris, was thought to guide the sun across the sky with threads of shimmering gold, whilst Lunaris saw to the wax and wane of moon with a sickle of purest silver.
It was a peaceful partnership, until the trickster, Tangmazu, happened upon their domain. In turning sister against sister he saw to the massacre of thousands whilst concealing the source of their futile feud beyond all reckoning.
Feel no pity for the moon. She is a cold and distant fool, far less radiant than she would suppose.
Sun and Moon return to their rightful places, leaving our path now clear. Highgate lies ahead, Beast Slayer, and a debt that is long overdue.
On this road, there are the goddesses of Maraketh to be reckoned with, and they will not take kindly to our endeavour. Regardless, I must enter the corpse of my beloved Beast and wrest our sliver of hope from the life you so blindly took.
There is no prophecy nor portent, no epic nor allegory that can promise your survival in this great journey of ours. For despite your trappings, you remain most certainly, irrevocably, mortal.
Once more into the breach, and once more we return victorious. Although, I have to admit, I did not relish the sensation of imbibing that foul witch's soul. I felt decidedly... unclean.
Still, our journey nears completion. To the north lies Highgate and the cessation of our efforts to extract the Dark Ember from my dearly departed Beast.
And none too soon. Every hour Kitava's strength grows, and the longer he and the other gods dwell in this land, the less is humanity's chance of survival.
Sun and Moon return to their rightful places, leaving our path now clear. Highgate lies ahead, Beast Slayer, and a debt that is long overdue.
On this road, there are the goddesses of Maraketh to be reckoned with, and they will not take kindly to our endeavour. Regardless, I must enter the corpse of my beloved Beast and wrest our sliver of hope from the life you so blindly took.
There is no prophecy nor portent, no epic nor allegory that can promise your survival in this great journey of ours. For despite your trappings, you remain most certainly, irrevocably, mortal.