Quietly, to itself; a wretched thing wept to itself as it often did. It trembled in the corners of the abandoned churchhouse it had hidden itself away in, and the scent of incense that once comforted it within these halls had long since been overtaken by the stench of wet mold.
Its thin, abhorrently long fingers traced the edges of its bony-plated face, picking at the dried ichor crusted to the sockets of its recently-gouged eyes. What could have led it here, it lamented. What could have led it here indeed? Had it not kept the ordinances as it was taught, was it not the most devout of its ilk?
Not from tiredness, but from exhaustion; sleep overtook the creature
-=-
A young kharajyr of dark grayish fur walked the shoreline of the Isle of Judi. The salt perpetually whipped up by the sea stung at his eyes, but through persistent squinting he still looked oe’r the storm-laden seas that continually rammed against the island. Indeed, something about the murkiness of those oceans had always captivated the boy, spurred him onward.
Along those dark shores he strode as he had often before, repeating his mantras and prayers as he’d been taught to- For though his eyes wandered upon the sea, his mind was set firmly upon his teachings. He’d been raised as long as he could recall under the teaching of the Clergy of Fl’nthogg, and young age did little to spite his amount of fervor toward the faith.
Pausing for but a moment in their mental chants, the child dared ponder- What might he see beyond that isle, on a day yet to come?
-=-
The boy had grown and had set out from the isle as a missionary. It was an honor, he had reasoned; to carry the truth of their clergy off to the mainland; that they might enlighten the masses ashore of the truth that awaited them-
This was the truth of the Black King, and his reign as God-King which had brought so much prosperity to the Judian people- And indeed, the prosperity that awaited any who kept his tenets, the boy fervently believed.
The seas whipped at his vessel of fellow missionaries and pilgrims as it had the shores of his youthful strolls, and again he was reminded of that dreadfully wondrous pull of the unknown beyond the horizon- The urge to see what lay beyond it.
-=-
Where had it gone wrong? The thing questioned itself in a now nigh-dreamless sleep. Was this punishment for some sin committed? Divine retribution for a lack of devotedness? It trembled in its sleep, for though it would never admit such to another- It feared, then. Greatly. It doubted, if but for a second, if it all had been worth it. The teachings of the Clergy had guided its entire mortal life, and it had guided it to the abhorrent transmutation that had warped and pulled its form far distinguished from anything it had once looked like.
It had toiled for years after that yet again, reaping the souls of the impenitent and secreting them away within itself; storing them up for some yet greater enlightenment. And yet, all that seemed to come unto it was a yet-more twisted form. Was this enlightenment? Was this awakening? Was this the cost of aspiring to know more of the divine than mortal man was intended to? I did not know. It did not care, anymore- It simply wept out wordlessly into that inky oblivion of sleep.
-=-
And somewhere, in the oblivion; a presence echoed back. Grinding, terrible; like thunder over the sea given substance. At once, the thing ceased its weeping. Fear held its entire form, and it dared not move the slightest degree further, lest it assuredly be swept away by the presence like the salty shores reduced to nil by the waves of its home isle.
“ .̵̼̖͝ ̶̢̹̠̔̒.̶̣͖̔͘ ̷͖̲̆̚.̸͉̌͜Y̸̲̆̇̐ò̴͈̮͕̒̕u̷̘̤͓̿.̶͕̓̊ ̴̻̱̋.̸͙͠ ̵͕̀̔̆H̶̗͝a̸͖̔͑v̷̡̉̌́ê̵̻͕̠̑ ̷̫̈́d̶̥̟̙͑̏̾ǫ̵̈́ń̶͉̖͐̂ē̶̠̹͋̈́ ̵̳͇̝̽w̵̨̠̳̕e̷̖̾l̴͎̲̏͝ḻ̶͇̑͂̄.̷͕͇̟̌̈”̸̫̗̣̈̔ “
It boomed solemnly, and the creature mentally groveled before the presence. Their dreams had returned to some semblance of their current reality, and thus they had no eyes with which to see the presence, though the sheer tonnage of its form could be felt in the echo that wracked the entire body of the thing when it spoke.
“. . Black King of Fl’nthogg!” The thing eventually spoke after a great pause. “-Am I at last to be repaid for my suffrage?! Gaze on your humble aspirant, and I beg of you, pity one of the few who remain to bear your message-”
The thing trembled mentally on its knees before the voice, as it felt further tears spill from it’s eyes- For indeed, it had not been in vain, it seemed. The prayers, endless practiced rites, sacred sigils committed deep to memory- It had not been in vain. The horrid thing, for a moment; almost felt bliss once more as it had only in its mortal life.
T̴͔͕̜͓́̐̈̃͝h̸̘̽̋͐̔̊̂̾́͊ë̴̳͍̟̻́̀ŕ̷̛̛͈̭̲͕̃̓̂̽̾̄̆̇̾̿̚e̴͓͓̟̯̤̟͓̅̊̍̎̒̆̆̐̔̎̿̀͝ ̵̧̤̣̖̹̟̯̤͈̙͈̯̣̦̓̆͐̎ḯ̴̡̧̪̻̩̲̯͖̬̗̈́̅̊ͅş̶̨̢͍̬̮̱̙̝͇̙̰̼͇͕́̋́̊̄͊́̂̍͊̓̿͘͜ ̸̧̨̨͎̩̗̰͔̦͙̟̦͙͎̺̬̂́̓̎͐̍͐͠à̴̝͖̓ ̷̡̜͎̜͎͎͉̞̙̉͂̈́̄̍̈́́̏̏͛̏̀͜͜ f̷̧̨̛̛̳̯̬̺͕̘͕͉̱͕̝̘̒̍͑̉̓͆̐̔̕͜ͅi̶̡̘̫̖͈͓̖̤̗̝̲͓̬̽͆̉͂̍̔̈́̓̔̑̕n̵̦̮̰̩͕̫̖̥̝̣̂̒̽͆͐̀̅̒͑̌͊̇̏̕͜a̵̡̩̝̝̮̞̹̰̥͆̔́̚l̸̡͖͚͎͓̱͋̃̔͆͊͊͂͐̀͗̄ ̷̛̟̰̩̫̰̈́̔̽̓͛̑̈́͊̽͘̕͠t̷͖͖̟̙̪̙͓̹̟̪̥́͜ͅȅ̸̡̨̛͇̬̈́͛̃̂̄̊̔̇̍̑͘s̸̩̍̾̄͂̅̽̈́t̷̨̢̡͇̪̪̠̱͌̌͐.̶̡̙̻̞̠̩͚͙̱̠͗̿̌̕ ̷̛̯̼͖̘̝̱̠̫̯̖̥̄̏̃̍͊̀͛̂́͗̿̍͐̅͜.̶̛̺̝̼̦͖̙̦̳̫̓̽̋̾̃̈́̆͐̕͠ͅ ̴̡̢̡̝̳̘͍̼̞͙̱͖͚͚̮̱́̾̽̌̑͆̊̕͘̚͝O̵͚̭͎̭̙͕̯̜͛̔̉̿͗̿̇̌̓f̶̛̠̩̻́̔͑̑̈́̿͐͗̚̕ͅͅ ̷̡̧̤̟̤͔͇̙͈͎̭̳͖̪̣͈̈͋̌̌̉͂̇̅̾͝ͅf̶̧̧̛̻̫̤̹̬̼̥̬̍̉̋̊͊̽̌͊̕ą̷̢̢͍͈̥̯̯̱͈͒̓̉͋͂̏̈́̓̑̈́̀̇̔͘̚͜͝î̷̢̨̮͍̦̰̬̪̥̻̼̹̋͛̿͗̂͐͝ͅt̶̡̛̥̍͒̾̈́͊͊̓͂̍͘͝ḩ̵̪̲̫̘̭̈́̈͜.̶̳̼̣̻̻̫̰̻͔̞̾̀̓̍̓̓͌̀͒́͜͜"̸͉̥̱̙̲̖̪͉̘̓̆̅͗̊̇̂ “
The voice cut short the thoughts of the thing, and it was silenced once more. “What more remains to be done? Name it, and it is finished; I humbly beg you- Name and it is done. What more can I give?!” The thing cried back in a state of religious ecstasy.
“ S̶̨̭̼͔̱͕̠̪̍̓̍͌̾͋̌̿̅e̴̱̺̖̹̖̠̮͚̼̒̊̈́̍͠ͅw̷̝̲̺̰̩̤͔͕̆.̷̢̧̠̘̥̫̭͈̩̖͐ ̴̮̈̿̉̾̊̀͊.̸̧̡̛͚͍̦͇͎̦̣̗̈́̔̆̈́̓̈́̈́̈́̔̋͒̑̊̽̚͜ ̷̡̼̱̬̦̹̰̗̩̙̗͍͑̃̿̒̾̀͆͘ͅy̶̦̞̔͗̑͗͐̕͘ơ̷̯̼̯̹̬̠̘̠̱̪̦͎͕̲͊͒͋u̵̠̅̋̂̅̌̀̔͂̑̓͛̓̊͊̓̕r̶̡̘̥̜̟̖͕͇̫̫̘̹͛̏̈́̈̍̈́͒̃̚.̴̧̜̓ ̷̛̦̖̳͇̣̗̻̼̺̲́̓̎͋̈̂̒͒̆̑̆͌͘͝ͅ.̷͖͎͇̥͇̳͖̯̹͆̑̊̈́̃́̎̐̏́̀̈́̌̚͘ ̶̨̨̖̭̭͈̹́ė̸̢̺̞̟̰̄̋̾ȳ̷͙̾̃̿̂͠ȩ̴̠̎̄͗̍̏̈̉̅͠s̶̛̲̱̺̝̪̰̦̥̜͓̩̦̝͎͈̰͑͂̍͌̆̌̀͂̌̎̐̐̕.̵̳͔̇͗̆͑͆͌͒̋̈̊͂̕̕͠͝ ̸̢̢̛͚͚̫̫̼̳̞͓͎́̓̆̈́̈́͜.̸̡̗̗̹̹̞͇̮̣͔̫͙̃̌͑̿̑̒͑͑̐͋͒̃͜͝ ̵̦̞͆̚͝ͅş̸̛͚͈͈͚̖͈̰̟̪͌̾̽̾̓͆͆͒̽̒̈͜͝h̷̡̨̼̤̻̩͚̻̦̬͍̝͔̫̻̻̯̓͆̆̈́͘ǘ̷̠͔̯͌̄̈́͛̈́͑̿̓̀̇̍͊̚̕ẗ̵̛̻̭̦́͆̆́̔͋̈́̀̄̅͘͜.̷͍̟͖̤̺̥̲̟͉̪̫͙̮̝͚̓͗̅͋̕͜. “
-=-
In a snap of cold sweat, the thing was awake again in that rotting churchhouse. And alone, stumbling through the dark, silently and fervently- It sought out a needle.
{Lore Pieces Mentioned: }
