October 5, 2022 • 27 mins
Season 02 - Episode 03.
With the help of the Anaii, Alaric enters a stone like the one at Os Kurrox, but this time he discovers something very different.
Credits:
Alaric - George Ledoux
Anaii Look out - Belsheber Rusape
Vendook - Asante Barbarin
Liche - George Ledoux
Website: http://DeadhausSonata.com
Discord: https://discord.gg/XjUXa4v
Twitter/X: https://twitter.com/DeadhausGame
Created by Apocalypse Studios
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:01):
Third of Hiem, in the year 218 after Deadhaus
At last, my labors shall bear their fruit. At last, Rostad’s claim shall be put to the test,
that alchemy will achieve what swords could not in the war against Deadhaus. And though I could
(00:22):
not serve beside him, perhaps I will be the one to set in motion the salvation of the Thacean Empire.
Ours will not be the fate of the Old Empire, nor the fate of those who came before them,
those whose names have been lost to time. It is strange to think that we know not how many
(00:43):
empires have risen and fallen in millennia past. And now their ruins lie moldering beneath Malorum,
their secrets forgotten to all but those that know where to look for them… those such as myself.
In the third month of this year, as the thaw was upon us, I came upon a ruin in my travels
(01:07):
that I have spoken of to no one. I thought at first it might have been from the Old Empire,
like those beneath Os Kurrox. The layout was similar, eroded structures surrounding a massive
black stone that was carved with precision far beyond anything Thacea could reproduce. And the
(01:30):
stone itself was etched with symbols. Some of the markings I could understand; they were written in
Old Ustilian, but others were indecipherable. It was as if several languages from different
time periods had been engraved into the stone, an anthology spanning multiple civilizations.
(01:52):
The Ustilian spoke of a great weapon, something that could ‘strike down death.’
For many months I searched for a translation of the other symbols to no avail. But then,
in the heat of the eighth month, a scholar came to me with the answers. He solved the riddle
of the writings in Os Kurrox. Unfortunately, his services were no longer available after that day,
(02:18):
so I reproduced a portion of the symbols as best I could with quill and paper. I sought out the
academy from which the scholar had learned, hoping to find another that could decipher the symbols,
but there were no records of anything like them, not from the Old Empire.
I was informed that the scholar who made the translations was studying the history of the
(02:43):
Anaii people before he came to assist me. No one dared to ask me directly about his disappearance,
but I could see the mistrust in their faces. It is an expression I have grown accustomed to
since I first donned the inquisitor's badge. I departed the academy and rode for the capital,
where the Merchant's Guild would direct me to the Anaii caravan. The Anaii are the last remnants
(03:09):
of a nomadic people from the west. They were displaced from their homelands by the great quakes
of the Sundering some 200 years ago and have lived as refugees within the empire ever since. Yet even
within our lands, they continue their wanderer’s ways, roaming from city to city, selling their
(03:32):
strange wares. The Merchant’s Guild keeps track of the Anaii caravan better than even the
inquisitors, loathing them for the competition and their refusal to operate under guild regulations.
But what could be the connection between the Anaii and the ruins? There was only one way to find out.
(03:53):
The Merchant’s Guild pointed me south, dangerously close to Deadhaus territory,
and I set out at once. I rode for seven days until I spotted the yellow tarps of the Anaii wagons.
They were encamped when I found them, their wagons encircling a fire with little more
than a single lookout and no guards. The lookout sat perched atop one of the wagons,
(04:19):
wrapped in white robes, and called out to me as I approached.
“What brings you to us, long-rider?” he demanded.
“Indeed, I have ridden long. I seek the wisdom of the Anaii.”
“That is something few have asked of us in these lands. Speak your name, and you may pass.”
“I am Alaric von Beller, Grand Inquisitor of the Thacean Empire.”
(04:45):
He had no reaction to my title other than to spring from the wagon top and
land deftly in the grass. “Vendook is the wisest among us. He will tell you truth.”
The lookout guided me along the perimeter until I saw an opening. The Anaii bustled
about their camp, some cleaning clothes, others packing belongings, rolling blankets, cooking
(05:09):
their strange-scented food. But I was not taken inside. Instead, he led me away from the wagons.
“I thought you were taking me to your leader,” I said.
“Vendook does not sleep covered,” he answered with no further explanation.
He took us up the slope of a hill, and at its crest I saw an Anaii sitting under the stars.
(05:33):
Like most of his kind, he was lean and sinewy, but he did not wear the colored robes of his people.
Instead, he was clothed in little more than a simple loincloth and a necklace of reddish beads,
each larger than my fist. His darkened skin was covered in swirling tattoos of gold that ran
(05:57):
from his feet to his hairless head. The dust of many days was upon him, and the weight of
many years had wizened him. The outlook said some words to him in their language, of which
I caught my name, and then left me standing alone with the tattooed man on the hilltop.
(06:17):
“A seeker has come before me… but seeking what?” the Anaii said.
“You are Vendook, I presume?”
“So I am. And you are Alaric von Beller.”
“I am also Grand Inquisitor of the Thacean Empire.”
“Such a lofty title you wear.”
“Do you know what it means?”
(06:39):
“I know that it means trouble if I should not answer to your
satisfaction… more trouble than I care for.”
“I mean your people no harm.”
“Seekers seldom mean the harm they bring, no matter what they call themselves.
But some truths are best left buried.”
My hair stood on end as he said these words. “Then, you know why I’ve come.”
(07:03):
A flicker of amusement passed over his face. “It is an Anaii saying… what have you found?”
“These writings, I do not understand them. None of our scholars can decipher
them. There was one, but…” I passed him the reproduction of the symbols from the ruin,
and he stared at them in silence for a time.
(07:25):
“I know of the one you speak. Another seeker.”
“You translated this language for him?”
“One of them. I take it he found what he was looking for.”
“He did.”
“Are you certain that you want to find what you’re looking for?”
“I must.”
“Spoken like a seeker. Every one of them the same inside,
(07:49):
compelled by something that has many names, but they never see its face.”
“I have no time for riddles, Vendook. The fate of the empire depends on my work.”
“The fate of all empires is to fall.”
“Not Thacea! Not while I draw breath.”
He said nothing for a time, but simply watched me, then turned his eyes back
(08:14):
to the paper. “This text speaks of an engine of life, at least the part I can understand.”
“Why would your language be in those ruins?”
“We were not always wanderers, Grand Inquisitor.”
“Then it was built by your people?”
“Not in the way that you mean it.”
(08:35):
“Very well then, Vendook, you’re going to ride with me to those ruins,
and you’re going to tell me exactly what the symbols say.”
“This was not our agreement.”
“Neither was riddles. Every day, the dead encroach further into our territory.
I'm doing everything in my power to stop them, and you are delaying me
(08:56):
by not answering directly. You’re going to rectify that. You’re going to do this
because Thacea has taken your people in when you had nowhere else to go. You owe us a debt.”
Again, the Anaii watched me for moments in silence, then got to his feet,
standing a full head above me. “It is true what you say. There is a debt owed,
(09:24):
but this will not pay it, and you will come looking for more in time.”
“Do not think me unfair in my dealings, Vendook. Thacea saved me as well. In exchange, I have given
my entire life to her. I have killed for her. I am an invaluable ally and a relentless foe.
(09:46):
You can choose which of those you wish.”
Vendook stared down at me in silence for a time.
“I will ride with you then, and you will find what you seek… if you have the stomach for it.”
Though he had agreed, we could ride no further that night. The Anaii tended to my horse, offered
(10:09):
me tea and bread, and a wagon to sleep in, but I chose to make my own tent away from the camp. I
saw the distrust on their faces after Vendook had spoken with them. They knew I was taking him away
for a time. Whether strangers or countrymen, it is always distrust. But these nomads stand to gain as
(10:30):
much as the rest of us should I succeed. For if I should fail, then none of them would retain any
will that could be bent against me. They would all serve Deadhaus. If only they could see.
I slept fitfully, my bones aching from so much riding, and my dreams haunted by the face of the
(10:54):
servant that had disobeyed my orders, seen things he should not have seen… and the scholar…. and the
knights. I could have waited to enter the stone, come back with more men. I could have imprisoned
the servant, not acted so quickly, worked on him with the chimes, made him forget.
(11:16):
I could have entered the church that day.
“Alaric,” the voice of the liche emanated from my dreams, bolting me upright in a cold sweat.
Through the opening in the tent, I could see the hilltop. Vendook still sat there, under the stars,
legs folded and head bowed. Was he sleeping this way? I felt for my satchel in the dark,
(11:43):
finding it where I left it. Would the chimes work on this man? Yes… of course, why wouldn’t they?
He was just a wanderer. There are times I wish they would work on me, if only to help me sleep.
As it was, I rolled over and rested as best I could until the break of dawn.
(12:04):
Vendook was waiting outside with our horses when I rose.
“How far must we ride?” he asked me.
“For many days,” I answered.
“Then we had best get started.”
We packed our provisions and struck out for the ruins, the location of which I shall not record,
even here. For many days we rode, speaking little. Each night, I would set up my tent, and Vendook
(12:32):
would sleep in seated position, completely in the open, whether it was clear, or cold, or raining,
wearing nothing but that simple cloth and beads. I offered him to share my tent, but he said some
nonsense about being connected to Malorum that I won’t even dignify by recording. When at last we
(12:54):
reached the entrance to the ruins, the man was caked with mud that ran with streaks of gold.
“This is where the stones are,” I said, lighting my torch and leading the way underground.
“What can you tell me about this place?”
“The bones of those that crafted this stone turned to dust long before the birth of Thacea.”
(13:18):
“The Ustilians? Our forebears?”
“They too found this place, and others like them, but they came as explorers, as you do now.”
“Who then? Your people?”
He gestured to the monolith and I held my torch near it. “Show me the Ustilian,” he said.
(13:40):
I ran my finger along the symbols at the base of the obelisk, reading aloud.
“Death undone in the crucible as words undying in the stone.”
“These words are most recently written. See above them, another tongue.”
“What language?”
“I do not know, but above this is another, a different people.”
(14:05):
I followed his finger, noticing more clearly the divisions between the etchings. There were
many layers of language here, layers of time, representing centuries, perhaps millennia.
“The words above the Ustilian are older?”
“Yes.”
“Then the higher the words, the--”
(14:27):
“Yes.”
“Where is your tongue?” He gestured near the top of the stone. “There is another layer above it.”
“We were not the first.”
“Then who was? Who built this place?”
“Slaves built this place. Their masters… were not of Malorum.”
I sighed. “Prehistory is riddled with myths and legends. Perhaps these answers are forever lost,
(14:54):
but there is something you can tell me. What does the Anaii text say?”
He looked upon the stone as if looking through it.
For many long minutes we stood in silence while Vendook peered back through time.
He ran a weathered hand over the obelisk and closed his eyes.
(15:17):
“What is it you think you will find here? A weapon for your war?”
“It is not my war. It is a war of the living against the dead.”
“The war against death, the living cannot win.
Look around you. See how many have tried, and now no one can read their words.”
(15:38):
“I can read some of them. You can read others.”
Vendook sighed. “Your war is but one of many. Your war is small.
Win or lose, it makes little difference.”
“Then you have no reason not to share your knowledge.”
I saw the consideration in his eyes, as if he still might not tell me after coming all
(16:03):
this way, and risk the consequences. “If I read this for you, then you will leave my people be?”
“I will. There are surely others that know your language in Thacea.”
He looked once more upon the stone and recited the words,
“By this stone shall the way be opened. By this stone shall the toll be paid. Deep is the door.
(16:30):
Deep is the key. When the moon is full, when the hour is twelve, stone shall flow as water.”
“Moonlight… like dawn at Os Kurrox… but what of the keys?
I don’t remember the other stone needing a key.”
“It will take what it needs from you to pass.”
(16:52):
“What does that mean? What does it need?”
“For where you want to go, you need only walk through.
You will find your weapon on the other side.”
“There is another matter. The moon is blocked here. At Os Kurrox,
I was able to bring the light of dawn with mirrors, but moonlight is too faint for this.”
(17:15):
“Well then you better start digging,
but remember Alaric von Beller, some truths are best left buried.”
And with that he left me. I knew what I needed to do, but there was no time to excavate these ruins
so that they lay open to the sky, even if I was willing to reveal their location to anyone else.
(17:40):
Thankfully, alchemy can also accomplish very quickly what shovels cannot. Having thoroughly
tested the resilience of these stones in the past, I knew that they would not be damaged by
a more expedient removal of the ceiling. Once I found the outer area above the chamber, I
(18:00):
placed several vials of my own concoction upon it. Then, from as much a distance as I could manage,
I retrieved another flask from my satchel, shook it vigorously and threw it in a large arc into the
center of the vials, turning to run as soon as it was in the air. The blast still knocked me to the
(18:23):
ground, but a few scrapes and bruises is the least of what I’ve had to endure in my search.
Once the fires died down and the smoke cleared, I ventured into the ruins again. The chamber
had been filled with debris, but the obelisk was unscathed. Now I had but to wait for a full moon.
(18:46):
Though it was some days until the next full moon, I did not return to the capital. Instead,
I camped at the ruins, recording these chronicles by daylight, and fishing from a nearby river.
I wish I could say that the time alone brought me solace, but my mind raced with the possibilities
(19:06):
of what lay within the stone. If the writing was to be believed, it would undoubtedly be of great
use to Thacea. Of course, considering how my last excursion into a stone went, I could simply be
torn apart by a flayed woman. Still, it was worth the risk, and this time, the risk was only mine.
(19:31):
The days passed, and with each night the moon waxed until at last it shone as a silver circle.
When its light poured through the opening above, the surface of the stone began to ripple,
and symbols etched in place swirled as if upon the tide.
As in Os Kurrox, a great triangular passage formed on the surface of the obelisk,
(19:57):
and the stone there was replaced by waters that hung suspended, neither flowing nor falling.
This time I crossed through alone, feeling the chill of the strange waters seep deep
into my bones, and yet no wetness was left upon me, and my torch was not extinguished.
(20:21):
Again I found myself in a space that was so much larger than could logically fit inside the stone.
I suspect at this point that I have not been passing inside the stones,
but rather they are acting as doorways to another place entirely. But where? Once more,
(20:43):
the architecture through the stone was almost otherworldly in its design.
The chamber in which I stood was carved entirely from a single stone, but it was larger by far than
the royal palace of Thacea. The walls, or wall I suppose, was perfectly circular. The ceiling and
(21:06):
floor sloped upward and downward toward their centers, respectively, and at each center was
a massive pyramid, as above, so below. The tip of each pyramid nearly touched each other, yet there
was enough space for… something to hang suspended between them, but it was too far away to discern.
(21:30):
And all of this vast space I could survey because of the many grooves that ran in geometric patterns
along the walls, the floor, the ceiling, even the pyramids, pulsing softly with green light.
And from all directions there came a low humming, the like of which I’ve never heard,
(21:51):
that felt as if it vibrated in the back of my skull. For a moment I stood, awestruck,
gazing upon what must have taken centuries to build… or perhaps not. It could be that those
who built this structure, as with the obelisks, possessed some secret knowledge, lost to time,
(22:13):
that hastened their endeavors. Perhaps the object hanging between the pyramids held part of the
answer. I turned behind me to find a triangular opening in the otherwise uniform wall. I could
see the debris-strewn ruins from which I had come on the other side and the light of the full moon.
(22:34):
I had maybe an hour of that light left before the moon was angled beyond the opening I had
made in the ceiling of the ruins. Then the obelisk, like the wall in this chamber,
would return to solid form, and I would be trapped here until the next full moon.
With more than enough illumination from the grooves in the chamber, I extinguished
(22:58):
my torch and began my trek toward the pyramid. Each step reverberated through the vast space,
the only sound beside the low hum that came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
As far as I could see, I was the only being inside the chamber, living or otherwise,
(23:19):
unless something was obscured on the far side of the pyramid. It took me roughly ten minutes to
reach the base of the steps. The suspended object was much clearer from here, vaguely cylindrical,
glinting with the light of the chamber as if it was made of metal. I began my ascension,
(23:41):
feeling the ache of my many years in my bones. How old was Vendook, I wondered--older than me by far.
And yet he took no effort whatsoever for comfort, nor did he seem ever troubled by pain.
He knew more of this place than he shared with me, of that I am certain,
(24:02):
but he did at least show me the way. I could have used the chimes… or could I?
I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead upon the object ahead. It was definitely
metallic, definitely a cylinder. I watched it draw closer as I rose,
seeing nothing else until at last I reached it. And there I stood, at the top of the pyramid,
(24:28):
surrounded by a vast field of glowing green lines, and before me, the object of my quest.
“Death undone in the crucible as words undying in the stone,”
I said to myself. This must have been what they meant by the crucible, this device. It
(24:50):
hung motionless in the air before me, perfectly suspended between the tips of the pyramids.
It was roughly the shape of an oblong barrel, metal along the sides, and glass at either end.
Within the glass, I could see the luminous center that swirled with the same green light that filled
(25:13):
the many grooves of the chamber. I reached out and placed my hand upon its surface and was surprised
to find it easily drifted away at my touch, as if weighing nothing. Knowing that my time was short,
I took hold of the crucible in one arm and pulled it free of its resting place.
(25:35):
All at once, the lights in the chamber faded away, and the faint humming fell silent.
I now stood in a black abyss, with only the light of the crucible to guide my steps.
Had I not already seen the scale of the chamber, it could have been infinite for all I knew now.
(25:57):
I tilted the crucible so that its light shone upon the steps that led down.
It was surprisingly light for its size. I moved down those steps as quickly as I dared, but
nothing came to bar my way, no shrieking woman, no creatures dead or living stirred.
(26:19):
There was only the darkness and my faint green light. I crossed through triangular waters,
feeling no chill from them this time, and stumbled into the ruins with my prize. I slumped down,
exhausted, and the world fled from me. Once more, there was only darkness.
(26:43):
I awoke with a start, finding the ruins illuminated by the glow of the crucible.
The obelisk behind me was solid stone, and the light of dawn shone in the sky.
I had done it, and what’s more, no one had to die. The crucible was mine. I
(27:04):
left the writings on the obelisk behind me, whatever it is they said. I would, of course,
continue to search for their translations, for any knowledge of the people that left them.
But for now, I would return to the capital. There was much work to be done.
Alaric von Beller, Grand Inquisitor of the Thacean Empire
Third of Hiem, in the year 218 after Deadhaus
At last, my labors shall bear their fruit. At last, Rostad’s claim shall be put to the test,
that alchemy will achieve what swords could not in the war against Deadhaus. And though I could
(00:22):
not serve beside him, perhaps I will be the one to set in motion the salvation of the Thacean Empire.
Ours will not be the fate of the Old Empire, nor the fate of those who came before them,
those whose names have been lost to time. It is strange to think that we know not how many
(00:43):
empires have risen and fallen in millennia past. And now their ruins lie moldering beneath Malorum,
their secrets forgotten to all but those that know where to look for them… those such as myself.
In the third month of this year, as the thaw was upon us, I came upon a ruin in my travels
(01:07):
that I have spoken of to no one. I thought at first it might have been from the Old Empire,
like those beneath Os Kurrox. The layout was similar, eroded structures surrounding a massive
black stone that was carved with precision far beyond anything Thacea could reproduce. And the
(01:30):
stone itself was etched with symbols. Some of the markings I could understand; they were written in
Old Ustilian, but others were indecipherable. It was as if several languages from different
time periods had been engraved into the stone, an anthology spanning multiple civilizations.
(01:52):
The Ustilian spoke of a great weapon, something that could ‘strike down death.’
For many months I searched for a translation of the other symbols to no avail. But then,
in the heat of the eighth month, a scholar came to me with the answers. He solved the riddle
of the writings in Os Kurrox. Unfortunately, his services were no longer available after that day,
(02:18):
so I reproduced a portion of the symbols as best I could with quill and paper. I sought out the
academy from which the scholar had learned, hoping to find another that could decipher the symbols,
but there were no records of anything like them, not from the Old Empire.
I was informed that the scholar who made the translations was studying the history of the
(02:43):
Anaii people before he came to assist me. No one dared to ask me directly about his disappearance,
but I could see the mistrust in their faces. It is an expression I have grown accustomed to
since I first donned the inquisitor's badge. I departed the academy and rode for the capital,
where the Merchant's Guild would direct me to the Anaii caravan. The Anaii are the last remnants
(03:09):
of a nomadic people from the west. They were displaced from their homelands by the great quakes
of the Sundering some 200 years ago and have lived as refugees within the empire ever since. Yet even
within our lands, they continue their wanderer’s ways, roaming from city to city, selling their
(03:32):
strange wares. The Merchant’s Guild keeps track of the Anaii caravan better than even the
inquisitors, loathing them for the competition and their refusal to operate under guild regulations.
But what could be the connection between the Anaii and the ruins? There was only one way to find out.
(03:53):
The Merchant’s Guild pointed me south, dangerously close to Deadhaus territory,
and I set out at once. I rode for seven days until I spotted the yellow tarps of the Anaii wagons.
They were encamped when I found them, their wagons encircling a fire with little more
than a single lookout and no guards. The lookout sat perched atop one of the wagons,
(04:19):
wrapped in white robes, and called out to me as I approached.
“What brings you to us, long-rider?” he demanded.
“Indeed, I have ridden long. I seek the wisdom of the Anaii.”
“That is something few have asked of us in these lands. Speak your name, and you may pass.”
“I am Alaric von Beller, Grand Inquisitor of the Thacean Empire.”
(04:45):
He had no reaction to my title other than to spring from the wagon top and
land deftly in the grass. “Vendook is the wisest among us. He will tell you truth.”
The lookout guided me along the perimeter until I saw an opening. The Anaii bustled
about their camp, some cleaning clothes, others packing belongings, rolling blankets, cooking
(05:09):
their strange-scented food. But I was not taken inside. Instead, he led me away from the wagons.
“I thought you were taking me to your leader,” I said.
“Vendook does not sleep covered,” he answered with no further explanation.
He took us up the slope of a hill, and at its crest I saw an Anaii sitting under the stars.
(05:33):
Like most of his kind, he was lean and sinewy, but he did not wear the colored robes of his people.
Instead, he was clothed in little more than a simple loincloth and a necklace of reddish beads,
each larger than my fist. His darkened skin was covered in swirling tattoos of gold that ran
(05:57):
from his feet to his hairless head. The dust of many days was upon him, and the weight of
many years had wizened him. The outlook said some words to him in their language, of which
I caught my name, and then left me standing alone with the tattooed man on the hilltop.
(06:17):
“A seeker has come before me… but seeking what?” the Anaii said.
“You are Vendook, I presume?”
“So I am. And you are Alaric von Beller.”
“I am also Grand Inquisitor of the Thacean Empire.”
“Such a lofty title you wear.”
“Do you know what it means?”
(06:39):
“I know that it means trouble if I should not answer to your
satisfaction… more trouble than I care for.”
“I mean your people no harm.”
“Seekers seldom mean the harm they bring, no matter what they call themselves.
But some truths are best left buried.”
My hair stood on end as he said these words. “Then, you know why I’ve come.”
(07:03):
A flicker of amusement passed over his face. “It is an Anaii saying… what have you found?”
“These writings, I do not understand them. None of our scholars can decipher
them. There was one, but…” I passed him the reproduction of the symbols from the ruin,
and he stared at them in silence for a time.
(07:25):
“I know of the one you speak. Another seeker.”
“You translated this language for him?”
“One of them. I take it he found what he was looking for.”
“He did.”
“Are you certain that you want to find what you’re looking for?”
“I must.”
“Spoken like a seeker. Every one of them the same inside,
(07:49):
compelled by something that has many names, but they never see its face.”
“I have no time for riddles, Vendook. The fate of the empire depends on my work.”
“The fate of all empires is to fall.”
“Not Thacea! Not while I draw breath.”
He said nothing for a time, but simply watched me, then turned his eyes back
(08:14):
to the paper. “This text speaks of an engine of life, at least the part I can understand.”
“Why would your language be in those ruins?”
“We were not always wanderers, Grand Inquisitor.”
“Then it was built by your people?”
“Not in the way that you mean it.”
(08:35):
“Very well then, Vendook, you’re going to ride with me to those ruins,
and you’re going to tell me exactly what the symbols say.”
“This was not our agreement.”
“Neither was riddles. Every day, the dead encroach further into our territory.
I'm doing everything in my power to stop them, and you are delaying me
(08:56):
by not answering directly. You’re going to rectify that. You’re going to do this
because Thacea has taken your people in when you had nowhere else to go. You owe us a debt.”
Again, the Anaii watched me for moments in silence, then got to his feet,
standing a full head above me. “It is true what you say. There is a debt owed,
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but this will not pay it, and you will come looking for more in time.”
“Do not think me unfair in my dealings, Vendook. Thacea saved me as well. In exchange, I have given
my entire life to her. I have killed for her. I am an invaluable ally and a relentless foe.
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You can choose which of those you wish.”
Vendook stared down at me in silence for a time.
“I will ride with you then, and you will find what you seek… if you have the stomach for it.”
Though he had agreed, we could ride no further that night. The Anaii tended to my horse, offered
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me tea and bread, and a wagon to sleep in, but I chose to make my own tent away from the camp. I
saw the distrust on their faces after Vendook had spoken with them. They knew I was taking him away
for a time. Whether strangers or countrymen, it is always distrust. But these nomads stand to gain as
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much as the rest of us should I succeed. For if I should fail, then none of them would retain any
will that could be bent against me. They would all serve Deadhaus. If only they could see.
I slept fitfully, my bones aching from so much riding, and my dreams haunted by the face of the
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servant that had disobeyed my orders, seen things he should not have seen… and the scholar…. and the
knights. I could have waited to enter the stone, come back with more men. I could have imprisoned
the servant, not acted so quickly, worked on him with the chimes, made him forget.
(11:16):
I could have entered the church that day.
“Alaric,” the voice of the liche emanated from my dreams, bolting me upright in a cold sweat.
Through the opening in the tent, I could see the hilltop. Vendook still sat there, under the stars,
legs folded and head bowed. Was he sleeping this way? I felt for my satchel in the dark,
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finding it where I left it. Would the chimes work on this man? Yes… of course, why wouldn’t they?
He was just a wanderer. There are times I wish they would work on me, if only to help me sleep.
As it was, I rolled over and rested as best I could until the break of dawn.
(12:04):
Vendook was waiting outside with our horses when I rose.
“How far must we ride?” he asked me.
“For many days,” I answered.
“Then we had best get started.”
We packed our provisions and struck out for the ruins, the location of which I shall not record,
even here. For many days we rode, speaking little. Each night, I would set up my tent, and Vendook
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would sleep in seated position, completely in the open, whether it was clear, or cold, or raining,
wearing nothing but that simple cloth and beads. I offered him to share my tent, but he said some
nonsense about being connected to Malorum that I won’t even dignify by recording. When at last we
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reached the entrance to the ruins, the man was caked with mud that ran with streaks of gold.
“This is where the stones are,” I said, lighting my torch and leading the way underground.
“What can you tell me about this place?”
“The bones of those that crafted this stone turned to dust long before the birth of Thacea.”
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“The Ustilians? Our forebears?”
“They too found this place, and others like them, but they came as explorers, as you do now.”
“Who then? Your people?”
He gestured to the monolith and I held my torch near it. “Show me the Ustilian,” he said.
(13:40):
I ran my finger along the symbols at the base of the obelisk, reading aloud.
“Death undone in the crucible as words undying in the stone.”
“These words are most recently written. See above them, another tongue.”
“What language?”
“I do not know, but above this is another, a different people.”
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I followed his finger, noticing more clearly the divisions between the etchings. There were
many layers of language here, layers of time, representing centuries, perhaps millennia.
“The words above the Ustilian are older?”
“Yes.”
“Then the higher the words, the--”
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“Yes.”
“Where is your tongue?” He gestured near the top of the stone. “There is another layer above it.”
“We were not the first.”
“Then who was? Who built this place?”
“Slaves built this place. Their masters… were not of Malorum.”
I sighed. “Prehistory is riddled with myths and legends. Perhaps these answers are forever lost,
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but there is something you can tell me. What does the Anaii text say?”
He looked upon the stone as if looking through it.
For many long minutes we stood in silence while Vendook peered back through time.
He ran a weathered hand over the obelisk and closed his eyes.
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“What is it you think you will find here? A weapon for your war?”
“It is not my war. It is a war of the living against the dead.”
“The war against death, the living cannot win.
Look around you. See how many have tried, and now no one can read their words.”
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“I can read some of them. You can read others.”
Vendook sighed. “Your war is but one of many. Your war is small.
Win or lose, it makes little difference.”
“Then you have no reason not to share your knowledge.”
I saw the consideration in his eyes, as if he still might not tell me after coming all
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this way, and risk the consequences. “If I read this for you, then you will leave my people be?”
“I will. There are surely others that know your language in Thacea.”
He looked once more upon the stone and recited the words,
“By this stone shall the way be opened. By this stone shall the toll be paid. Deep is the door.
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Deep is the key. When the moon is full, when the hour is twelve, stone shall flow as water.”
“Moonlight… like dawn at Os Kurrox… but what of the keys?
I don’t remember the other stone needing a key.”
“It will take what it needs from you to pass.”
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“What does that mean? What does it need?”
“For where you want to go, you need only walk through.
You will find your weapon on the other side.”
“There is another matter. The moon is blocked here. At Os Kurrox,
I was able to bring the light of dawn with mirrors, but moonlight is too faint for this.”
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“Well then you better start digging,
but remember Alaric von Beller, some truths are best left buried.”
And with that he left me. I knew what I needed to do, but there was no time to excavate these ruins
so that they lay open to the sky, even if I was willing to reveal their location to anyone else.
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Thankfully, alchemy can also accomplish very quickly what shovels cannot. Having thoroughly
tested the resilience of these stones in the past, I knew that they would not be damaged by
a more expedient removal of the ceiling. Once I found the outer area above the chamber, I
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placed several vials of my own concoction upon it. Then, from as much a distance as I could manage,
I retrieved another flask from my satchel, shook it vigorously and threw it in a large arc into the
center of the vials, turning to run as soon as it was in the air. The blast still knocked me to the
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ground, but a few scrapes and bruises is the least of what I’ve had to endure in my search.
Once the fires died down and the smoke cleared, I ventured into the ruins again. The chamber
had been filled with debris, but the obelisk was unscathed. Now I had but to wait for a full moon.
(18:46):
Though it was some days until the next full moon, I did not return to the capital. Instead,
I camped at the ruins, recording these chronicles by daylight, and fishing from a nearby river.
I wish I could say that the time alone brought me solace, but my mind raced with the possibilities
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of what lay within the stone. If the writing was to be believed, it would undoubtedly be of great
use to Thacea. Of course, considering how my last excursion into a stone went, I could simply be
torn apart by a flayed woman. Still, it was worth the risk, and this time, the risk was only mine.
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The days passed, and with each night the moon waxed until at last it shone as a silver circle.
When its light poured through the opening above, the surface of the stone began to ripple,
and symbols etched in place swirled as if upon the tide.
As in Os Kurrox, a great triangular passage formed on the surface of the obelisk,
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and the stone there was replaced by waters that hung suspended, neither flowing nor falling.
This time I crossed through alone, feeling the chill of the strange waters seep deep
into my bones, and yet no wetness was left upon me, and my torch was not extinguished.
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Again I found myself in a space that was so much larger than could logically fit inside the stone.
I suspect at this point that I have not been passing inside the stones,
but rather they are acting as doorways to another place entirely. But where? Once more,
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the architecture through the stone was almost otherworldly in its design.
The chamber in which I stood was carved entirely from a single stone, but it was larger by far than
the royal palace of Thacea. The walls, or wall I suppose, was perfectly circular. The ceiling and
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floor sloped upward and downward toward their centers, respectively, and at each center was
a massive pyramid, as above, so below. The tip of each pyramid nearly touched each other, yet there
was enough space for… something to hang suspended between them, but it was too far away to discern.
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And all of this vast space I could survey because of the many grooves that ran in geometric patterns
along the walls, the floor, the ceiling, even the pyramids, pulsing softly with green light.
And from all directions there came a low humming, the like of which I’ve never heard,
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that felt as if it vibrated in the back of my skull. For a moment I stood, awestruck,
gazing upon what must have taken centuries to build… or perhaps not. It could be that those
who built this structure, as with the obelisks, possessed some secret knowledge, lost to time,
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that hastened their endeavors. Perhaps the object hanging between the pyramids held part of the
answer. I turned behind me to find a triangular opening in the otherwise uniform wall. I could
see the debris-strewn ruins from which I had come on the other side and the light of the full moon.
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I had maybe an hour of that light left before the moon was angled beyond the opening I had
made in the ceiling of the ruins. Then the obelisk, like the wall in this chamber,
would return to solid form, and I would be trapped here until the next full moon.
With more than enough illumination from the grooves in the chamber, I extinguished
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my torch and began my trek toward the pyramid. Each step reverberated through the vast space,
the only sound beside the low hum that came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
As far as I could see, I was the only being inside the chamber, living or otherwise,
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unless something was obscured on the far side of the pyramid. It took me roughly ten minutes to
reach the base of the steps. The suspended object was much clearer from here, vaguely cylindrical,
glinting with the light of the chamber as if it was made of metal. I began my ascension,
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feeling the ache of my many years in my bones. How old was Vendook, I wondered--older than me by far.
And yet he took no effort whatsoever for comfort, nor did he seem ever troubled by pain.
He knew more of this place than he shared with me, of that I am certain,
(24:02):
but he did at least show me the way. I could have used the chimes… or could I?
I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead upon the object ahead. It was definitely
metallic, definitely a cylinder. I watched it draw closer as I rose,
seeing nothing else until at last I reached it. And there I stood, at the top of the pyramid,
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surrounded by a vast field of glowing green lines, and before me, the object of my quest.
“Death undone in the crucible as words undying in the stone,”
I said to myself. This must have been what they meant by the crucible, this device. It
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hung motionless in the air before me, perfectly suspended between the tips of the pyramids.
It was roughly the shape of an oblong barrel, metal along the sides, and glass at either end.
Within the glass, I could see the luminous center that swirled with the same green light that filled
(25:13):
the many grooves of the chamber. I reached out and placed my hand upon its surface and was surprised
to find it easily drifted away at my touch, as if weighing nothing. Knowing that my time was short,
I took hold of the crucible in one arm and pulled it free of its resting place.
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All at once, the lights in the chamber faded away, and the faint humming fell silent.
I now stood in a black abyss, with only the light of the crucible to guide my steps.
Had I not already seen the scale of the chamber, it could have been infinite for all I knew now.
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I tilted the crucible so that its light shone upon the steps that led down.
It was surprisingly light for its size. I moved down those steps as quickly as I dared, but
nothing came to bar my way, no shrieking woman, no creatures dead or living stirred.
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There was only the darkness and my faint green light. I crossed through triangular waters,
feeling no chill from them this time, and stumbled into the ruins with my prize. I slumped down,
exhausted, and the world fled from me. Once more, there was only darkness.
(26:43):
I awoke with a start, finding the ruins illuminated by the glow of the crucible.
The obelisk behind me was solid stone, and the light of dawn shone in the sky.
I had done it, and what’s more, no one had to die. The crucible was mine. I
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left the writings on the obelisk behind me, whatever it is they said. I would, of course,
continue to search for their translations, for any knowledge of the people that left them.
But for now, I would return to the capital. There was much work to be done.
Alaric von Beller, Grand Inquisitor of the Thacean Empire
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