SHATTERING THE LICH'S THRONE

[Boknice275 1192]

Two Rah’mun priests standing before the newly raised Obelisk of Hesthor

 

[!] A missive is sent out across the lands with an ankh cross emblazoned above its contents. It is written in golden words which are surrounded at the edges with hieroglyphic inscriptions vaguely resembling a mighty pure cowhead.

 

                                                                                                                               

 

Denizens of Aevos, the tombstone of the Isfetian [chaos agent] fiend known as Gashadokuro to some, but as Iket to the people of Rah’tuma, has met the judgment of Hesthor. This foul idol served as a meeting place for the Lich Iket to seduce descendants with his chaotic powers and pursue exploits across Aevos in violation of of the law of Ka’tau. For long the westward swamps of Aevos have also served as a gathering place for Isfetian cults to meet, plan, and conduct unspeakable things under their murky veil. 

 

But not any longer. The sacred priesthood of Lady Hesthor, goddess of Pure Waters, has struck right at the heart of the Darklands. By using Heka [magic] gifted to us by Pure Hesthor, we have been able to reduce Iket’s tombstone to rubble, and restore its surroundings to a pure, verdant wetland teeming with Ka [life]. A mighty white obelisk to Lady Hesthor has been raised in the spot where Iket’s tombstone once stood, and pure blessed waters of our Lady now flow mightily into the darkened swamps. The law of Ka’tau is now in force in those swamps, and it’s jurisdiction shall only grow larger as the Sacred Priesthood continues it’s works. May our victory here stand as a warning to all agents of Isfet [chaos], darkened or mundane: the rivers of Hesthor flow from the heavens and purify material reality of all blemishes. She who polishes the soul also removes filth from our world, and shall continue to do so as her servants invoke her name. The name of your Iblees - or any of your dark idols - shall shudder beneath the weight of Our Lady’s bovine hooves, which shatter the souls of the impure, and her waters, which consume them whole with total purification. 

 

Obelisks of quartz and whitestone shall rise all throughout Aevos bearing the sacred hieroglyph of Lady Hesthor. They shall banish the filth and stoke purity and it’s virtues. They shall remind descendant-kind that the Gods, while ancient, still reign over these lands with unmistakable might.

 

Isfetians, turn towards the Gods and purify yourself in Hesthor’s waters, or you shall drown within the Pure Waters that await you. 

 

Signed by

 

Atemu-Ta

Pharaoh of Rahtuma

High Priest of Hesthor,

Twin-Sun of the Bronze Band

 

Pamphilos

Leader of the Bronze Band,

High Priest of the Pure Path

Fellow lad.

[MockingbirdArt 577]

A certain priest of Lord Oti found a copy of the missive and simply stared at it for a moment "Making it up to Hesthor, I see" He shrugged and disregarded the missive, going off to isolate himself for a couple more months.

[Azukazi Khuzai 138]

"Hail purity! This is something everyone should be doing!" He looks to the other lads, Stelios nods. Though wary if it would be so simple. At least it's a good taunt

[TeawithFrisket 2647]

“Is this…for real?” Said sofiele reading the missive with a skeptical look to her face.

 

”if this is but true…we’ll done llirii” said a awoken ember as she rubs her eyes from a short rest

[Zemzy_Oakheart 167]

With the waters running pure in previously devastated lands that she'd once helped till the soil for, Ney'La couldn't help but smile proudly at the missive as she took a moment to sit alongside the townside's shoreline outside her home with a simple fishing rod set beside herself.

 

"Looks like the light's d'feated the darkness yet again," Ney'La muttered to herself with a smile, "..Ah' should make sure there's plenty o' food t' celebrate such a success~!" & with that, she'd pick up her fishing rod once more to spend the day catching her meal before returning to the fields.

[femurlord 2428]

A finger of pearl scraped the sky in the Southwest in the wake of a rubbled headstone, splitting dark clouds that hung over the horizon to welcome the radiant light of the Sun, bringing vibrancy to the muddy wastelands. In bliss life co-existed with the effigy of Spiritualism, a lapse of this purity was followed by the cries of the woken dead. "That was my favorite shrine!" With it, the mud beneath moved and seethed out geysers of sulfurous fumes to impart a fierce warning.

 

"I WILL RUBBLE YOUR CAPITAL!"
 

In time, the site of victory was scorched by roaring soul-fire, polluting the weeping willows and radiant column;  tainting them black. Now, that effigy stood in sacrilegious defiance, a spire agleam with malicious energies.