A Blood-soaked Legacy
XV
Hasty Escape
(Shard II)
(Shard II)
With a kick and bend, Vhoggli was beneath the waves and making his way towards the darkness below. Slowly he made his way further and further into the depths, checking sporadically at his collar and padding at his leather jerkin to make sure he did not lose his prized treasures. The tunnel below seemed to stretch on forever.
Despite the renewed power coursing through him, Vhoggli soon began to notice a drag on his kicking downward. At first, he wondered if his limbs weren't responding correctly due to the cold, but within a few moments, he felt the up-swelling of water around him. It began as a push against his face, but then soon became an immense pull against his back. Each kick seemed to do nothing as he was being dragged back up the way he had come.
A few moments more and the water around him seemed to lose density around him. He blinked his strange eyes as the pull from behind him loosened and a moment of vertigo overtook his senses. Something was pulling the water around him up and back into the caverns. Tendrils of dense water slapped against him now, and as vertigo mounted he felt himself falling as if in the air.
The water ahead of him seemed to tear itself free from itself and get swallowed behind him into the dark. Ahead he could see rushing darkness as gravity took hold of him and sent him falling through the air beyond. He kicked and swayed with his arms against the rushing air as he fell faster and faster into the darkness.
The moments of panic seemed to stretch on longer than they should have but it wasn't long until Vhoggli could reach out and see the black surface of water rushing up at him from far below. He kicked at the air and swung his arms around to get himself as if he were standing upright. He clenched every muscle he had in his body, pressing his legs together and lifted his arms to cover his head.
The impact of the water was as hard as a rock against his flesh. The feeling of ice tore up his back and chest. Pain tore at his feet and then against his arms as he rushed beneath the surface. Most mortal bodies would have been shattered by the impact, but once again Vhoggli was glad that he wasn't mortal.
It took a moment for him to shake the pain out of his mind as he began to sink further into the darkness below. He checked to make sure that his arms and legs were still functional. If any of this fingers or toes were broken he would deal with that later. For now, the blood elixir within him healed him sufficiently so that he could keep swimming downward.
Whatever power had drawn the water from the caverns above must have drained the entirety of the catacombs dry. He was fortunate that whatever body of water remained below him remained otherwise his body would now be shattered on rocks and the amount of wounds that he didn't think the powers of his blood elixir could heal. He continued to kick and sway in the darkness.
Vhoggli could feel a smile creep across his wide mouth as the realization dawned on him about the source of the water below. Whatever power above had summoned and drained the waters of the catacombs away was separate from these waters he was now within. That meant that the water he was making his way through right now would open to another body beyond. Eventually, he would be able to get out of here, after all.
Minutes of swimming into the depths were beginning to take their toll on his limbs, but Vhoggli continued forth with a desperate desire to be free. His ears popped several times as he could feel the pressure of the water mounting over him. He had traveled through all kinds of directions as she followed the curvatures of the tunnel.
The tunnel began to bend upwards once more and as Vhoggli reached the turn he could see a beautiful and dazzling light shining through the darkness towards him. He kicked harder and shoved his arms forward to press into the lit waters beyond. As soon as he emerged his senses were sent into a frenzy at what he beheld outside the tunnel.
He had followed the waters straight into the depths of the Heartsblood Sea. He tore himself free of the tunnel mouth which stood as a hole in an immense cliff deep below the waves. Ahead of him, he could see rifts of boiling magma heating up the further depths of the water.
Soft moonlight filtered in from the depths far above creating a cascading set of blue and silver ripples that lit up the higher water above. The magma boiling below lit up the depths with a crimson and gold sheen amidst all the shadowy darkness. Lit up from the shifting colors and shades was a sprawl of gigantic silhouettes all around Vhoggli in the depths.
These silhouettes, as his perceptions acclimated to the energy around him, were cast by immense spires and ruins that had sunk beneath the waves long ago. Ahead and around him were the ruins of the ancient city of Neshran, the first home of the oracles. Jagged cliffs of rock held half-destroyed spires and buildings over boiling rivers of magma.
The sight that Vhoggli now beheld would be enough to make most scholars and oracles of the Authrakallin descend into crying fits or go mad at beholding. All around him were treasures beyond the ken of even his master. Spires of metal and glass that dated to the time when the ancient Morthavi built them at the dawn of time. Ruined streets and buildings flowed beneath him as he kicked his way through the chaotic waters toward the surface.
Some spires still held light within them, glowing with the torches crafted by the extinct Azhemyra artificers of old. Powerful energies still coursed through the ruins below, some of them harnessed still by enchantments and others being the echoing shades of the dead. A place of such beauty and horror, untold hundreds of thousands of souls condemned to destruction by the madness of Merithault when she ascended to be the monster she now is. So many artifacts may still be within those depths, waiting to be reclaimed by those adventurous to seek them out.
Such concerns were beyond Vhoggli at this moment, he had what he had come for and all that was left now was to get it back to his master before Merithault tore this land asunder once more in her unquenchable wrath. He kicked hard against the water and drove himself up through the hundreds of feet towards the surface. The spires below seemed to reach up towards him, wanting to trap him beneath the waters, but he ignored them.
Minutes more, flowed away to be snatched up by the darkness below as Vhoggli finally reached the highest waters above. He could see the light of Ishep lighting up the night’s sky as immense and dark storm-clouds rolled in to quench that light. Several flashes of lightning tore through the clouds to strike the surface of the sea water. As they struck a feeling of static energy rippled beneath the water’s surface.
Vhoggli tore up through the surface of the water to be blinded and deafened by cascading energy once more. The sounds of thunder and whipping wind assaulted his hearing as the red flashes of lightning went off above him. He could feel himself being tossed on waves as they crashed over one another with elemental anger.
Vhoggli blinked the sea water from his eyes and began to swim towards the shore just a few dozen feet away from him. Waves crashed down upon him, but he continued his way towards the shore with resolute determination. The storms above were growing with power and savagery. He suspected that the storm wasn’t natural and was, in fact, a sympathetic response to Merithault’s rage in the catacombs below.
Perhaps the Mad Oracle had finally dispatched Tyverus and was now realizing that two of her treasures had been snatched by a foe she could not sense. She had existed in this place for so long and the land itself had drunk from her foul essences to the point that both existed in sympathy with one another. As her mood changed, so did the weather in this land. As such, it was paramount that Vhoggli had to get away from this misbegotten place of madness as soon as possible.
With a tumble in the waves, Vhoggli was cast against the blackened and rocky sands of the shore. He pulled himself up, as further waves crashed against his legs and back. He patted himself to make sure the clasp and orb were still in possession and got up to his feet. The light of Ishep was almost swallowed by the growing storm-clouds above.
Vhoggli looked at the grass and trees ahead of him and recognized the area he was now in. He had made it back to the small island south of where Neshran had been located. He was on the same island as the camp his now dead friends had set up. Before him by a few hundred feet and around a jagged rock was the entrance to the catacombs below.
Running on tired legs, Vhoggli made his way into a grove of trees to his right. He used the trees as cover and continued over a slight ridge to where he found a fallen, moss-covered tree. He dropped and skidded forth on his knees as he neared the fallen tree. His slide forward allowed him to reach his arm inside a hollow of the wood to grab a small pouch within.
His fingers seized the pouch and brought it out greedily. He pulled on the draw strings and looked inside to see several vials of blood elixir held within. He closed his eyes and held his head aloft with relief. The extra amounts of blood elixir he had hidden there two days before was what he needed to keep himself alive on the journey back to Alsira Thaenat.
Vhoggli snatched the vials from the pouch and shoved them into the satchel around his belt. He tossed the pouch on the ground and stood up. The canopy of the trees above were dancing as rain and hail tore through them from the clouds above. He climbed over the fallen tree and looked forward in the darkness, allowing his preternatural senses to reach out.
A few hundred feet forward and to his left was the camp just outside the mouth to the catacombs. The members of the Ahlketh caste that the expedition had brought with them were located there. A few dozen feet from there, on the opposite shore, was the moored ship they had taken from Morrthault City to this accursed place.
Vhoggli winced as he realized that the innocent members of the Ahlketh laborers were probably already dead. They had no chance against the powers of Merithault if she emerged from her subterranean realm. The ship itself would be destroyed or stripped of all its crew as well.
As his senses reached out, he could hear a strange silence on the winds and a hint of blood on the air. Everyone was dead on this island, perhaps on all the islands that made up Oerstav Caelii, that is except for himself. He turned away and began to run back to the nearest shore.
He jumped over rocks and crawled through foliage as he made his way to where he had hidden a small raft from the ship. He tore through the branches of trees as his feet padded upon the black sands of the island. Lightning tore through the skies above as he did so.
Among the flashes followed by ear-splitting thunder, he could spy the raft still tied a jagged rock on the shore. The battered raft lifted and swayed on the crashing waves as if it were trying to free itself. Vhoggli ran towards it with abandon.
With a jump and flourish of claws, Vhoggli made his way into the raft and severed the ropes holding it in place. Waves brought it hard against the rock once, but with a riptide drawing it below, it swiveled and was drawn back out into the waters. Within moments Vhoggli seized the oars within the raft and began paddling hard against the waves.
It would take him the rest of the night wrestling against these waves until he could get free of this place. If he could survive this last trial, all he would have to do is follow the northern currents of the Heartsblood Sea to a small port on the coast of the Morrthal Highlands. There, hidden away, he would be able to find his master’s Authroc and fly it back home to the deserts of Alsira Thaenat. That is, of course, if he could survive the elemental wrath of this horrible place.
Vhoggli gave a jagged grin, letting his tiny fangs poke free over his lips. His master’s plan had gone well and he would soon be home. The price had been high, but his companion’s sacrifices would be worth it. With the first of the Nesharite Spheres, Toulam could finally find out how best to keep the poor girl alive and hidden from Merithault’s wrath. That pitiful, red-haired Witchling he had seen so many times when his master went to visit her adopted father. She was the last of that misbegotten bloodline, after all. That poor, unaware girl named after the thorn-covered desert lotuses that only bloomed when coated in the blood of the fallen — Ghelta.
Despite the renewed power coursing through him, Vhoggli soon began to notice a drag on his kicking downward. At first, he wondered if his limbs weren't responding correctly due to the cold, but within a few moments, he felt the up-swelling of water around him. It began as a push against his face, but then soon became an immense pull against his back. Each kick seemed to do nothing as he was being dragged back up the way he had come.
A few moments more and the water around him seemed to lose density around him. He blinked his strange eyes as the pull from behind him loosened and a moment of vertigo overtook his senses. Something was pulling the water around him up and back into the caverns. Tendrils of dense water slapped against him now, and as vertigo mounted he felt himself falling as if in the air.
The water ahead of him seemed to tear itself free from itself and get swallowed behind him into the dark. Ahead he could see rushing darkness as gravity took hold of him and sent him falling through the air beyond. He kicked and swayed with his arms against the rushing air as he fell faster and faster into the darkness.
The moments of panic seemed to stretch on longer than they should have but it wasn't long until Vhoggli could reach out and see the black surface of water rushing up at him from far below. He kicked at the air and swung his arms around to get himself as if he were standing upright. He clenched every muscle he had in his body, pressing his legs together and lifted his arms to cover his head.
The impact of the water was as hard as a rock against his flesh. The feeling of ice tore up his back and chest. Pain tore at his feet and then against his arms as he rushed beneath the surface. Most mortal bodies would have been shattered by the impact, but once again Vhoggli was glad that he wasn't mortal.
It took a moment for him to shake the pain out of his mind as he began to sink further into the darkness below. He checked to make sure that his arms and legs were still functional. If any of this fingers or toes were broken he would deal with that later. For now, the blood elixir within him healed him sufficiently so that he could keep swimming downward.
Whatever power had drawn the water from the caverns above must have drained the entirety of the catacombs dry. He was fortunate that whatever body of water remained below him remained otherwise his body would now be shattered on rocks and the amount of wounds that he didn't think the powers of his blood elixir could heal. He continued to kick and sway in the darkness.
Vhoggli could feel a smile creep across his wide mouth as the realization dawned on him about the source of the water below. Whatever power above had summoned and drained the waters of the catacombs away was separate from these waters he was now within. That meant that the water he was making his way through right now would open to another body beyond. Eventually, he would be able to get out of here, after all.
Minutes of swimming into the depths were beginning to take their toll on his limbs, but Vhoggli continued forth with a desperate desire to be free. His ears popped several times as he could feel the pressure of the water mounting over him. He had traveled through all kinds of directions as she followed the curvatures of the tunnel.
The tunnel began to bend upwards once more and as Vhoggli reached the turn he could see a beautiful and dazzling light shining through the darkness towards him. He kicked harder and shoved his arms forward to press into the lit waters beyond. As soon as he emerged his senses were sent into a frenzy at what he beheld outside the tunnel.
He had followed the waters straight into the depths of the Heartsblood Sea. He tore himself free of the tunnel mouth which stood as a hole in an immense cliff deep below the waves. Ahead of him, he could see rifts of boiling magma heating up the further depths of the water.
Soft moonlight filtered in from the depths far above creating a cascading set of blue and silver ripples that lit up the higher water above. The magma boiling below lit up the depths with a crimson and gold sheen amidst all the shadowy darkness. Lit up from the shifting colors and shades was a sprawl of gigantic silhouettes all around Vhoggli in the depths.
These silhouettes, as his perceptions acclimated to the energy around him, were cast by immense spires and ruins that had sunk beneath the waves long ago. Ahead and around him were the ruins of the ancient city of Neshran, the first home of the oracles. Jagged cliffs of rock held half-destroyed spires and buildings over boiling rivers of magma.
The sight that Vhoggli now beheld would be enough to make most scholars and oracles of the Authrakallin descend into crying fits or go mad at beholding. All around him were treasures beyond the ken of even his master. Spires of metal and glass that dated to the time when the ancient Morthavi built them at the dawn of time. Ruined streets and buildings flowed beneath him as he kicked his way through the chaotic waters toward the surface.
Some spires still held light within them, glowing with the torches crafted by the extinct Azhemyra artificers of old. Powerful energies still coursed through the ruins below, some of them harnessed still by enchantments and others being the echoing shades of the dead. A place of such beauty and horror, untold hundreds of thousands of souls condemned to destruction by the madness of Merithault when she ascended to be the monster she now is. So many artifacts may still be within those depths, waiting to be reclaimed by those adventurous to seek them out.
Such concerns were beyond Vhoggli at this moment, he had what he had come for and all that was left now was to get it back to his master before Merithault tore this land asunder once more in her unquenchable wrath. He kicked hard against the water and drove himself up through the hundreds of feet towards the surface. The spires below seemed to reach up towards him, wanting to trap him beneath the waters, but he ignored them.
Minutes more, flowed away to be snatched up by the darkness below as Vhoggli finally reached the highest waters above. He could see the light of Ishep lighting up the night’s sky as immense and dark storm-clouds rolled in to quench that light. Several flashes of lightning tore through the clouds to strike the surface of the sea water. As they struck a feeling of static energy rippled beneath the water’s surface.
Vhoggli tore up through the surface of the water to be blinded and deafened by cascading energy once more. The sounds of thunder and whipping wind assaulted his hearing as the red flashes of lightning went off above him. He could feel himself being tossed on waves as they crashed over one another with elemental anger.
Vhoggli blinked the sea water from his eyes and began to swim towards the shore just a few dozen feet away from him. Waves crashed down upon him, but he continued his way towards the shore with resolute determination. The storms above were growing with power and savagery. He suspected that the storm wasn’t natural and was, in fact, a sympathetic response to Merithault’s rage in the catacombs below.
Perhaps the Mad Oracle had finally dispatched Tyverus and was now realizing that two of her treasures had been snatched by a foe she could not sense. She had existed in this place for so long and the land itself had drunk from her foul essences to the point that both existed in sympathy with one another. As her mood changed, so did the weather in this land. As such, it was paramount that Vhoggli had to get away from this misbegotten place of madness as soon as possible.
With a tumble in the waves, Vhoggli was cast against the blackened and rocky sands of the shore. He pulled himself up, as further waves crashed against his legs and back. He patted himself to make sure the clasp and orb were still in possession and got up to his feet. The light of Ishep was almost swallowed by the growing storm-clouds above.
Vhoggli looked at the grass and trees ahead of him and recognized the area he was now in. He had made it back to the small island south of where Neshran had been located. He was on the same island as the camp his now dead friends had set up. Before him by a few hundred feet and around a jagged rock was the entrance to the catacombs below.
Running on tired legs, Vhoggli made his way into a grove of trees to his right. He used the trees as cover and continued over a slight ridge to where he found a fallen, moss-covered tree. He dropped and skidded forth on his knees as he neared the fallen tree. His slide forward allowed him to reach his arm inside a hollow of the wood to grab a small pouch within.
His fingers seized the pouch and brought it out greedily. He pulled on the draw strings and looked inside to see several vials of blood elixir held within. He closed his eyes and held his head aloft with relief. The extra amounts of blood elixir he had hidden there two days before was what he needed to keep himself alive on the journey back to Alsira Thaenat.
Vhoggli snatched the vials from the pouch and shoved them into the satchel around his belt. He tossed the pouch on the ground and stood up. The canopy of the trees above were dancing as rain and hail tore through them from the clouds above. He climbed over the fallen tree and looked forward in the darkness, allowing his preternatural senses to reach out.
A few hundred feet forward and to his left was the camp just outside the mouth to the catacombs. The members of the Ahlketh caste that the expedition had brought with them were located there. A few dozen feet from there, on the opposite shore, was the moored ship they had taken from Morrthault City to this accursed place.
Vhoggli winced as he realized that the innocent members of the Ahlketh laborers were probably already dead. They had no chance against the powers of Merithault if she emerged from her subterranean realm. The ship itself would be destroyed or stripped of all its crew as well.
As his senses reached out, he could hear a strange silence on the winds and a hint of blood on the air. Everyone was dead on this island, perhaps on all the islands that made up Oerstav Caelii, that is except for himself. He turned away and began to run back to the nearest shore.
He jumped over rocks and crawled through foliage as he made his way to where he had hidden a small raft from the ship. He tore through the branches of trees as his feet padded upon the black sands of the island. Lightning tore through the skies above as he did so.
Among the flashes followed by ear-splitting thunder, he could spy the raft still tied a jagged rock on the shore. The battered raft lifted and swayed on the crashing waves as if it were trying to free itself. Vhoggli ran towards it with abandon.
With a jump and flourish of claws, Vhoggli made his way into the raft and severed the ropes holding it in place. Waves brought it hard against the rock once, but with a riptide drawing it below, it swiveled and was drawn back out into the waters. Within moments Vhoggli seized the oars within the raft and began paddling hard against the waves.
It would take him the rest of the night wrestling against these waves until he could get free of this place. If he could survive this last trial, all he would have to do is follow the northern currents of the Heartsblood Sea to a small port on the coast of the Morrthal Highlands. There, hidden away, he would be able to find his master’s Authroc and fly it back home to the deserts of Alsira Thaenat. That is, of course, if he could survive the elemental wrath of this horrible place.
Vhoggli gave a jagged grin, letting his tiny fangs poke free over his lips. His master’s plan had gone well and he would soon be home. The price had been high, but his companion’s sacrifices would be worth it. With the first of the Nesharite Spheres, Toulam could finally find out how best to keep the poor girl alive and hidden from Merithault’s wrath. That pitiful, red-haired Witchling he had seen so many times when his master went to visit her adopted father. She was the last of that misbegotten bloodline, after all. That poor, unaware girl named after the thorn-covered desert lotuses that only bloomed when coated in the blood of the fallen — Ghelta.
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