A CAPTAIN'S CONFESSION | On the Infernal Incursion

[Mescaffier 6197]

 

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1st of Horen’s Calling, 1837

Penned by Lady Dowager, Dame Viktoriya Tsecsar DeNurem I, Retired Captain of the Fifth Brigade

 

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Alas, as I write this, I ponder on how much time I truly have left in life. In but a few Saint’s weeks time, I’ll have reached a century old; three or four continents lived upon, five Orenian Empresses and Emperors lived through, dozens of wars and hundreds of skirmishes. Only three humans alive that I know have lived this long century alongside me; General Velhrun Darkwood, General Erik Ruthern, and Emperor Philip II, all have certainly reached their elder years as well. No one can quite recall these Demonic skirmishes anymore within the Empire - now, the worst thing we might struggle against these days are meager roadside bandits.

 

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    he sun rose high above in the clouds, wreathing Godani’s earth in a golden glow. A day like none other in beauty, and yet ... Helena’s fields smoked and burned, buildings trembled; the end of the world itself had begun. Perhaps . . . Around 1770, I’d been leading the Imperial front against the Inferi alongside dozens of other officers. I led then-Ensign Erik Ruthern, and ten other comrades towards the Hive to assess their progress - and we escaped unscathed, even with those insectoid beasts tailing us. Not one soldier had ever perished under my command.

 

ur company took immense risks; yet, it had always paid out in the end. At last, we’d established a camp within their borders. An assassination attempt or three later, I’d finally been put back on the front line. Myself, then-Captain DeNurem, then-Captain Reine, then-Lieutenant  Reine, then-Captain Darkwood, and then-Private Lostariel set out on a journey toward the infernal coasts. We’d hardly traveressed half a mile of ocean before an imp had noticed us and gone winging back - yet, we hadn’t retreated. Captain Darkwood led us forth, and there, we’d accidentally met head-on with a patrol of Brutes; negotiation was attempted, and it failed spectacularly.  

 

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They decided to rush us head-on. Swarms of Legionnaires climbed over the overturned tree which had been set aflame by Darkwood - my foot was stuck beneath the tangle of roots, and for a moment I thought I'd die to the flames. In retrospect, perhaps that would've been a better fate. As I went to flank their patrol, my comrades had all begun to evacuate. My husband, Captain DeNurem, had been skewered with their spears in both legs - Captain Reine was in critical condition, as was his brother. Private Lostariel died sacrificing himself for the three to escape. Captain Darkwood was behind the tree alongside me.

 

Each of the boats had been taken and filled by the four, now three and a corpse. Still, those demons hadn’t noticed me. Captain Darkwood fled by land, and when he ran, he ran as fast as he could. Still, I blame none of them; these were dire circumstances. Yet, they were catching up to him. I’d summoned all that I could and urged the band still chasing the Captain back through screams and shouts - in my struggle, I’d blinded and maimed ten and managed to fell just as many, but it wasn’t enough. Soon, I found myself with a spear through my thigh and a sword’s tip a mere jerk away from sending me to the Seven Skies - my mind searched and my maws opened to form words, yet I couldn’t speak. I was dying. On my last breath, I recalled the band speaking of  ‘General Tichar’. Thus . . . In desperation, I shrieked;

 

“TICHAR! TICHAR -- take me to te’ GENERAL!”

 

And somehow, it worked.

 

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arkness had set in over the horizon, and I was dragged through their hellscape for however many hours. As I stirred, I awoke in not the Seven Skies nor true Hell, but its embodiment, instead.

 

I had learned much during my time imprisoned.

True food was a delicacy; instead, I was forced to subsist on the Descendant’s flesh I was fed. Each prisoner had been fed the very same, more or less - perhaps the Olog in the cell beside me enjoyed it more. 

 

I was always prepared to fight for my life against folk in my same shoes. The paladin in the cell across from me had been just as prepared to end my life as I was, his. The same woman you spoke with one day could be the very same to slit your throat the next - soon, this was only a mere way of life for those of the Pit. No one could trust each other, thus a coordinated escape was impossible.

 

The upper echelons of the Inferi were ten times more cruel than their brethren, yet, unnervingly human. They toyed with us - our suffering was amusing to them. 

 

We were dehumanized. 

We were none more than grains of sand.

Yet, we lived on.

 

Like a cruel light of hope, one day, that General arrived before my cell. The bars rose, and in came the behemoth with its wretched grin. Great, pale wings and talons that could sever a descendant into halves -- it was Tichar, the Unchained Tyrant.

 

 

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“Those that serve are given mercy. Those that swear by the light will die.”

I couldn’t understand.

 

“This is the nature of Man. The Children of Man … We are all monsters, ikztoz-kaar. Demons, Inferi, beasts … Driven by primal things. To consume, to destroy, to take.”

 

It gestured to the pit of blood and gore. The man I saw crawling looked mangled and drenched; though he moved, it looked as though he’d lacked a soul entirely. He tried to climb, but his arms uselessly clattered back, broken by whatever force had thrown him in long ago.

 

“Our difference is honesty ...”

 

That man is met by another. A second person crawled up beside him and they began to fight one another, mindlessly. Like animals. The first man had started to beat into the second's head, brutalizing him without thought. Once this happened, right before my eyes, the first man used the second's body as a platform to reach higher. Closer to the ledge, but still outside of reach. He slipped back down, and let out a wail so wretched I’d forgotten where I stood, almost falling down into that pit in my distraction. 

 

“Honesty… Vul.”

“I don't care whether you die here or not. We will get to you eventually. I desire for you to bring me a sacrifice… Most precious to you. In exchange, I will allow you to leave.”

 

Tichar looked over the pit, into the cells where other prisoners lied. They languished in suffering, left to rot in their cells just as much as those in the pits. I still hadn’t looked up from the creaking boards beneath my feet.

 

 “I know there is a man eager to find you. A loved one, is he?” It’d begun, a serpentine tongue slipping between its teeth. 

“Kill him for me. Bring me his corpse. Prove to me your service… If you fail, I have ways to drag you back home. To me. Prostrate yourself… Bow to me and vow your soul's eternal service to me… Or fight in vain to escape. I will give this choice to you now.” 

 

The beast stood in front of the entrance to my cell, so large that there was little chance to slip past if I were to try. It’d given me two options. Its eyes swiveled in an instant as I moved forth, so quick it'd been less like they moved, and more like their direction supernaturally shifted, like a hunter to its prey.

"Now … Pact with me."

 

 

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My heart thrummed; I could fight. If I were to die, I’d die fighting. Yet . . . I answered.

 

“I will. Give me my freedom, and I’ll do as vy ask.”

 

I felt a pair of talons clasp around my abdomen and hoist me into the air; my lungs screamed and my eyes watered. As I gathered the courage to look down, I saw that I was flying. Above the blackened sands and charred trees and crumbling cities - I was flying. After several minutes, now the ground was quickly approaching, as were those familiar tangerine walls of Helena. I was home - I'd tricked the 'Unchained Tyrant'. Had it truly thought I'd keep my word? How clever, I thought. And even as that wretched beast left, and flew far, far away - even as I was hoisted into my husband's arms and I sobbed, and recounted my story - I felt as if it was not Tichar that had been tricked, but I.

 

Even after a hundred years, even after watching it be slain before my own eyes, I can feel its gaze burning a pit in my soul. I'd never rewarded its offer, and yet . . . 

I truly feel no freer than when I'd been dangled above that pit of gore. 

 

 

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Throughout my life,

I've lived and I've learned.

I escaped a wretched fate and lived to tell the tale.

 

I betrayed the offer that that infernal General gave, and lived in paranoia for the decades to come - I still do. One day, I always think to myself, it will happen over again and I'll be doomed. 

 

I spent each moment with my husband that demon had been bent on slaughtering like it was our last, and I'd learned to truly value my kin. 

 

Life is ever-changing. Flesh is fleeting and the future is fast coming, yet we've all the capacity to learn and live in leisure. 

▪︎

Your life is much too short to wallow in regret of lost opportunities. Seize the mantle. Ask the question. Rise above, before you may be too old and withered like I to do so.

▪︎

And if you think you've lost purpose in life, strive to make meaning of what you've already lived.

 

Go beyond.

“Ea byk zwem zanyotsk ter ea byk denpetravesk."

'I would have perished had I not persisted.'

 

In memoriam;

Captain Ser Alaric DeNurem, the bravest of all of the Imperial State. 

Captain Jacquelyn Cenobia, a warrior for her nation and a lionhearted compatriot.

Private Endellion Lostariel, a hero to his comrades.

 

 

Spoiler

Wanted to do a little character recount on the Inferi war since I've seen a ton of newer people ask about it, those were the coolest events I've experienced in my ~3ish (oh god) years on LOTC. This was definitely fun!

 

All dialouge from Tichar was grabbed from me' old minecraft logs. Definitely took a second to find, but it was worth it!

 

[Benjikhei 698]

 

Upon the Eastern Coast of Almaris, a ship draws through the fog of a crisp morning. Upon it, a mere child grown to adolescence stirs from his slumber, for he aches to return.

 

A return to his mother and siblings, awaited him- for he was almost home.

[sergisala 3451]

The veteran imperial soldier and current Private of the 1st Brigade Leonard Halcourt would remember the Inferi War and the lives lost in the same. "May God bless our fallen comrades, who are the greatest heroes of our nation." With that, he would sign the Lorraine and lower his head to pray for the fallen Imperial soldiers.

[mmat 7460]

A Wood Elven warrior, two human lifetimes old, broke from a night of restless slumber with a start. His body bent into a sitting position, fingers digging invountarily into loamy ground beneath. He composed himself, wide eyes gradually returning to normal. Breaths came quick and raspy as memories of old rushed through his mind. Demon legions of horror and night, comrades and friends succumbed to blight. A tortured abomination of many faces that wailed in the dark, its hateful master astride the thing and relishing in the slaughter. An oath of vengeance sworn but not fulfilled.

 

The 'ame reached up and placed a hand on his temple, sighing angrily.