March on the Desert

[Diogen 3110]

[!] A drawing of the inner walls of Hyspia, with a short-haired man kneeling on the ground, in front of an armored executioner.

OOC: The knowledge in here is unavailable, as the only thing that can be RPly found are 1) the remains, 2) the letter. Anything else will be considered metagaming.

 

 

n the waning twilight, the ancient city of Hyspia, carved from the heart of the desert’s golden sandstone, trembled under an ominous silence. Its intricate spires and arches, once echoing with the songs of the bazaar, now stood as silent witnesses to an approaching dread. From the horizon, where the sun's last embers kissed the earth, there emerged a procession most macabre: a cadre of raiders, a fusion of bone and chitin, their forms a grotesque ballet of the living and the undead.

 

Í myrkrinu, þar sem ljósið deyr, vaknar draugur.

In darkness, where light dies, a specter awakens.

 

s they advanced, the very air around them seemed to grow colder, the ground beneath their feet crying out in silent agony. The city's inhabitants, their faces etched with terror and disbelief, watched as this macabre army marched through Hyspia's streets, their intentions as dark as the void from which they seemed to have spawned.

 

Ógnin nálgast, hún gengur á meðal okkar.

The menace approaches, it walks among us.

 

midst this chaos, a solitary figure emerged from the safety of his abode – Deimtrey, a knight of Hyspia, whose bravery was as legendary as his skill with the blade. Clad in tarnished armor, he stood defiantly before the invading force, a lone beacon of courage in the face of insurmountable odds.

 

Hjarta hans slær sem trommur fyrir lokadansinn.

His heart beats like drums for the final dance.

 

ith a heart pounding against the confines of his chest, Demitrey engaged the raiders in combat. Steel clashed against bone and chitin, echoing through the desolate streets like a mournful dirge. In a dance as old as war itself, He fought valiantly, his sword a silver flash in the encroaching darkness. 

But fate, as fickle as the wind, was not on his side. A spear, as cold and merciless as death itself, found its mark, impaling him through the chest, anchoring him to the earth he had sworn to protect.

 

Sorgin og örvæntingin fylla nóttina.

Sorrow and despair fill the night.

 

earby, tragedy unfolded in tandem. A man, his leg severed in the gruesome melee, fell to the ground, his cries of agony piercing the night. Not far from him, a woman, clutching a Lorraine cross in trembling hands, screamed for help, her voice a haunting lament that resonated in the hollow hearts of the undead assailants.

 

Dögun ljóssins ber vitni um tóm hennar.

Dawn's light bears witness to her emptiness.

 

et, as dawn's first light broke over the horizon, casting a pale glow over the carnage, a chilling realization befell the city of Hyspia. No bodies lay in the streets; no remnants of the brave souls who had faced their end. The raiders, had taken them all, leaving behind nothing but blood, echoes of despair and the haunting memory of their presence.

 

Og í lokin stendur aðeins þögnin eftir.

And in the end, only silence remains.

 

he once vibrant streets were empty, the laughter and life that had filled them now a distant memory, as fleeting as the shadows at dawn. Hyspia, with its sandstone walls stained with the sorrows of the fallen, had its very bustling life taken away.

 

 

ut a note, was left. Its words, written in blood, and incomprehensible. The only legible words, were those of threats.

 

[ThatFunkyBunch 2066]

An Azulyte tends to her wounds. They fought bravely. Though they were no match for the legion in the end. 

[Wavey 1449]

The Viceroy of Hyspia, upon hearing the accounts from his men, moves to prepare the nation’s defenses. This is likely not the only time that these beings of pure malice may attack his people’s home.