Recovered Lost Stuff Lmao (II) (Patreon)

Oh god, you guys know that feeling when you have a flat keyboard with all the mushed keys and then get the tick tack raised keyboard and instantly feel the difference? It feels so much more... pleasurable to write now.

Anyways, here's another of the recovered stuff. This is old so please forgive me any amateurish writing lmao

I took the opportunity to change things from the old draft but it was mostly spelling changes.

Also, it's long and stands are 2,700 words.

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Journal of Gawainel Vertan, Explorer's Guild, Emerald Vale Assignment, Commissioned by King Remiel II

End of winter, 600 A.L.

We arrived in the village southeast of Emerald Lake near the end of winter, arriving just in time as the snow began to melt. The rivers were overflowing, forcing us to stay in the village longer than expected. We sheltered there for a few weeks, letting spring thaw the ice and snow so we could begin exploring in earnest. The village was kind to us, generous with their food and hearths. Many volunteered to join our expedition and point the way towards some already discovered ruins in the distance. 

In those weeks spent in shelter we gained knowledge of local legends and stories, some fanciful tales made by the elders… but key few contained the passed down knowledge of past lessons learned in regards to the ruins. One such story details the need for caution in the ruins to the deep east, for the builders had left behind traps and mysterious guardians made of stone and metal.

It goes as thus, “Beware oh beware, the stone bears who trample without care, the lair oh lair, is where despair is laid bare.

With eyes made of fire, the stone bears shall ready your pyre, the old ones conspire, their choir singing higher, until you finally retire.

Keep your ears tight, once you hear the white light, lest you desire life’s respite, and then let your heart alit, ignite into bright red sight.

If you see the reward, don’t go toward, see the sword brought forward, if blood be unpoured, ready your horde and secure the award!”

If I may be so honest, it sounded like gibberish to me at first… yet the song felt too advisory than entertaining. As such, I remembered to write down the verses. It was my luck then, that the ancestors of these villagers made sure to impart their knowledge for I would be dead without it. Our historian, a Lymarkian woman who went by Astraia, certainly thought so. After we decided it was time to begin the exploration, the eastern ruins were chosen for our first undertaking. The woods of Emerald Vale seemed to invite us to discover all its secrets, to get lost in nature. We followed our guide who himself followed the eastern river. It was easy going, a fresh source of water next to us as we walked, game all around us so we were never hungry. One wouldn’t be unreasonable to call it paradise.

Once we reached a certain boulder a couple days later, our guide informed us of needing to travel towards “the direction where the sun rests at noon.” He happily wished us the luck of the Goddess as he left our party, explaining that his father had let him join our adventure if he promised to return at this point of the journey. Understanding his need to keep his promise, we thanked him and trudged on. It took us three days to finally reach the ruins, our progress stalled by the dense forests and shrubbery. Yet it was all worth it.

The ruins were magnificent, Astraia claiming we were seeing the architecture made by our ancestors, the Argenti. Without fail, the buildings were decorated in white stone with golden or gilded metal lines running across its surface in perfect straight lines. Some of the structures seemed to have cracks however, few were outright destroyed. We almost lost daylight to prepare our camp as we were fascinated by the ancient beauty around us.

Once we had opened our eyes for the new day, the crew began taking notes and sketching whatever they found, some applying a piece of paper to a wall’s carving and rubbing soot over it, creating a near-identical image of the carving. The imagery was confusing at first, enough that Astraia needed access to the inside of the ruin since the carvings outside could be telling a story, history, or just be fanciful decorations. Astraia had a gnawing feeling however, I remember her sharing to me that the images invoked fear and warning… a contrast to the beautiful and inviting architecture. 

But she wondered on if the carvings were an attempt to ward off spirits or V'era... or actual people.

The images themselves were of creatures never seen before, Astraia called them mythological creatures, an invention of the ancient Argenti civilization used to intimidate their children. Simply put, they were the monsters of whatever myths existed at the time. The creatures themselves weren't the problem. The problem, Astraia explained, was the little people being maimed or killed by said creatures. 

The images painted a horrible scene, men and women fleeing from the creatures as they tore open their bodies and destroyed the buildings around them. More haunting were the creature’s eyes. Their sockets were of bright gold, the light reflecting brightly from the tiny metal seemingly giving the sockets life.

 Our decision to study the ruins as methodically as Astraia instructed us probably saved the success of the expedition, ensuring we gained as much information as possible before catastrophe struck. Layer by layer, section by section, we painstakingly noted everything down.

Once we had done everything we could from the outside, we opened the entrance of the ruins, venturing deep into the darkness. Torches led us, illuminating us to the vast rooms of the past civilization. We still hadn’t found treasures or artifacts, but Astraia said we had found something even more important. The Argenti’s history. 

More carvings could be seen from the walls, this time painting an even more confusing picture. The creatures from before now knelt to figures with extravagant headdresses. The victims of the creatures lay in pools of drawn blood, body parts strewn about the ground. On the opposite of the figures with the elaborate head pieces, were figures constructing structures, the historian believed them to be slaves cowed from the menace of the creatures.

Inside the first set of rooms, all had a chalice-like centerpiece in the middle. A drainage of sorts led to a second larger door, similar to the first one we breached. Again, the carvings set about more questions than answers. The figures wearing the headpieces were now being placed before a chalice, their neck slit open above the chalice so it could be gathered by the bowl. Red lines converged from the walls to the ceiling, where a large creature with huge obsidian stones for eyes looked down upon us. Astraia became worried then, fearing that the rooms we passed were actually sacrificial chambers. The creatures from before seemed to surround the middle, larger creature. The figures of other people, possibly the slaves, knelt before the huge creature, their heads touching the ground.

Astraia wore a nervous expression from there on, aware that the civilization that could build such beautiful buildings and carvings were in fact brutal slavers that practiced human sacrifice. More carvings continued hammering these points to us. Those wearing the head pieces lead the creatures as they attacked burning cities or towns, the end result always being either wanton slaughter or bondage. 

Our historian, Astraia, explained that what we were seeing was an account of past conquests. But was it mythological or historical was her question.

After studying all we could from the second set of rooms, we prepared to enter the third room. Our historian warned us that either unimaginable treasures from conquered civilizations awaited us, or traps. Perhaps both.

Two large pillars with two warriors with ruby eyes guarded the entrance. They wore the ancient bronze armor of that bygone era, their spears possessing a sinister double edge hooked point at the end. Their shields had faded paintings of the creatures from before on them. Mustering our courage in the face of these frozen guardians, we opened the door.

Instead of traps or riches, a huge chamber lay before us, with a large stone table and chairs adorning the middle. Twelve chairs lined the round table, which itself had a large black gemstone decorating the middle, a red light shining from the center. 

I was so transfixed with the gemstone I hadn’t noticed Astraia nervously tug my tunic’s sleeve. 

She explained that the entire chamber was a story told from the left side of the chamber to the right.

The first of the carvings was strange to us. The large creature from the previous rooms had its head low on the ground with multiple creatures and figures, bowing before a carving of a baby. 

The next set of carvings had a child, still guarded by the massive creature by its side, standing before a burning town, the people being herded before the creature. 

In the third set, the figures with the head pieces were now hacking the slaves into pieces and assembling terrible works of art or rituals, the child-like figure simply watching this all unfold. 

The fourth set of carvings no longer presented a child next to the massive creature, but a man who held both arms out in front of those with headpieces. The figures with head pieces were turned away from him, all raising their weapons towards another city in the distance.

The fifth set of carvings had the city burning, the citizens being led into mass graves as they all get pushed inside alive. 

I don’t know how, but the carvings made the scene feel so alive, as if I could sense the panic and despair of those poor souls being tossed into the pits. The carvers made sure to include the women and children, the details of the carving immaculate in showing their fear. 

The sixth set of carvings have the mass graves buried, fresh mounds covering the once open pits. The man with the massive creature stands before the mounds, a knife slitting his own throat. The figures with headpieces try to stop the man.

 Now at the seventh carving, showing arms digging out of the their graves, blackened people with disfigured body parts or twisted limbs crawl out of the earth and stand at attention for the man with the slit throat, the massive creature now again at his side. 

The eighth carving shows the throat slit man standing atop the massive creature with his arms raised high, rays of something emerging out of his hands and onto a battlefield where his  followers battle with the army of those with the headpieces and their creatures. A third army marches nearby, and has seven figures encased in blue sapphires shielding the army from the man’s rays or the other army's creatures. Their armor and weapons were more detailed than the rest of the others.

The ninth carving shows an end to the battle, having the massive creature dead at the feet of two encased in sapphire. The man still fights with five other warriors, surrounded. At the top of the carving, there was a female figure looking down upon them all, her expression one of sadness. Around her was a giant golden wreath. 

Astraia and I both believed this to be the Goddess. 

The tenth carving supports this theory, as the carvings show a wild revelation! The Goddess now has her arms raised, as the man lays defeated in a pool of his black blood, and the figures in headpieces turn into creatures with no mouths, their skin painted black and with hideous limbs. V’era! It had to be the V’era! The creatures from before are in a corner, appearing to sulk away while the warriors who defeated the man and massive creature celebrate by raising their weapons in the air towards the Goddess.

This was another civilization’s creation mythology of the V’era! Astraia and I were excited, the gnawing anxiety behind our minds gone with this historic revelation. The story was a marvelous and exotic version of the creation of the V’era, one that introduced elements and characters unknown to us. After drawing and copying the carvings into our notes, we finally opened the last door. It was less grandiose than the others, much more simple in design but effective in intent. Easily opened from our side, once we crossed inside the last chamber, we realized all the previous doors were meant to keep something “in”, not “out”.

A massive creature patrolled the chamber, its red eyes faintly bright. It didn’t seem to notice us, but we were paralyzed. Along the sides of the chamber were walls of skulls, covering every single surface that wasn’t the ground. Astraia was the first to move from the party, realizing the construct was paying us no attention. She quickly raced back to the earlier chambers and came back. She told us the creature was extremely similar in appearance to the earlier creatures controlled by the figures in headpieces. Large, with a powerful build that reminded all of a bear was in front of us. 

But it wasn’t alive, that much was for certain.

It was made of stone and metal, the wicked claws hooked for tearing and ripping open flesh. It was then I realized the connection with the villager’s song. But before I could bring this up, all walked into the chamber. One of the party members felt safe enough to cross deeper into the room, believing the construct to be defective, traveling perhaps 10 paces before the construct’s head suddenly turned in his direction. Terrifyingly, the construct’s slow movements were now replaced with those of a hunter. Without warning, it jumped at the man, effortlessly slicing deep into his stomach. As this happened the door behind us, our only escape, closed shut on us.

The construct then loomed over the dying man, opening its mouth. We thought it was going to eat him alive, but instead of biting into the man, steam burst out of its mouth. The heat could be felt from where we were, the screams cut incredibly short. The construct kept going as the sound from the steam grew louder and higher, the noise becoming almost unbearable. It grew in pitch, the sound evoking a primal fear of something coming, something dangerous and life-threatening. 

Suddenly, you remembered the song.

“...the old ones conspire, their choir singing higher, until you finally retire.

Keep your ears tight, once you hear the white light, lest you desire life’s respite, and then let your heart alit, ignite into bright red sight.

If you see the reward, don’t go toward, see the sword brought forward, if blood be unpoured, ready your horde and secure the award!”

Quickly, I shut my ears from the ever-growing louder noise of whatever was producing that steam. Suddenly, flames pour out that then became white. Those that didn’t shut their ears, began to bleed from their ears, eyes, and nose. Collapsing into the ground, they spasmed from their injuries. Astraia was the only one who followed my example that didn’t panic. Finally, the construct stopped the gout of flames, the body of the one from earlier now nothing but bones. 

The construct was now still, the red eyes now shining dimly. Astraia must’ve thought it was safe, because she walked ahead deeper into the chamber, eyeing the massive crystal at the end of the chamber. I however eyed the door that was now suspiciously open behind me.

Astraia then thanked the villagers loudly, trying to recount the song for guidance. As she walked, she tried looking for the “sword” until it popped out of the floor. A pendulum of swinging blades raced down the chamber, splitting Astraia in two. It happened so fast I didn’t even notice the pendulum folding back into the ground. There was no one else but me now. “...if blood be unpoured, ready your horde and secure the award!” But why would I need a horde to claim the award? It was a trap. I knew it was a trap, so I ran and closed the door behind me. I gathered the rest of the expedition that hadn't come in and ordered a retreat back to the village.

All the notes, sketches, clues, or theories have been given to the Explorer's Guild for research. As for my personal opinion, I advised the guild to inform His Majesty to quarantine Emerald Vale and prohibit further exploration of the other ruins. The risk of unleashing more of the constructs is too high.