[spirokeat]

This is the start of my AAR.

Aran Map. I will post scales and opponents as I progress. But be welcome to the birth of my god....Hope you all enjoy.

Spiro.


The Dark Oracle

The God
How long I have been I cannot say, there was a time, once, perhaps an aeon ago that my purpose was to see things, the past, the future or man’s desire. What little I know of my history is faded and thin but I shall relate it none the less for if I am to accomplish what I seek, the halls of eternity will echo with my tale.

I was nothing but formless void an essence that knew only one thing, the undeniable existence of myself. As the dreams of the world began to flow like soothing water from the minds of the primitive creatures I became aware of new things, lands, trees, people and I was drawn from my strange place into the world. My first memory of this new dream was of clarity, of water and so I flowed from the dream into the world as a stream. I sensed the order of this plane and my form saw many things, I saw a power risen in the heavens, divine, all knowing and all seeing and the world was a pleasing place in its benign embrace and I saw my people, those who had dreamed of me.

Stunted and hunched they lived in small tribes a simple existence as they strove to drag themselves up from the primitive bog of evolution, but I was fascinated it was pleasing to be near them and so I drew them to my cave and cleansed their ills in my waters and offered knowledge that slipped into their minds like the dreams they had slipped into mine. And so the tribes began to become more than just villages and I dreamed of a nation, that would come, in time, but inevitable. As the tribes of Mictlan grew, for that was their chosen name. As their skills of artifice grew I was gifted with form as an honour for providing the land with prophecy and a clever man, for that is also what they were, carved for me a pleasing shape, a beautiful fountain to gather my waters in artful pools and allow me to playfully dance from statues of the young girls who had become accustomed to attend me.

As the tribes grew so did tradition and each person who was granted respite in my waters from mortal death once passed on from natural means their blood as an offering of water was given back to me and their remains dried, dressed and prepared for what lay after for I could see beyond the veil of death and so the tribes learnt of it also. As the empire grew so did the kings thirst for knowledge and as their demands for knowledge grew they began to unwillingly take blood to gift to me to power the omens which I used to prophecies the fate of the nation, but one cannot hold the fate of ones own spirit and so I was blind to what must come.

Their desires became as frenzied as the knives that brought me blood and none were more gifted in the slaying of innocence than Mictlipocti, Oh what honour he did me, I know not at which point my waters changed, I can only surmise that his unholy gluttony for death affected me till I spewed forth the spurting blood of innocents, few could approach me now for I howled in mimicry the agonised screams of those fed to me in an unending scream, my sight saw nothing more than pristine souls and where to find them, my form slippery with gore and no longer pleasing to the eye, I blinded my attendant lest her sweet innocence fail in my abysmal presence, she would know my crimson depths in time but virgin blood was more potent.

My own gluttony and preoccupation afforded me little foresight now and as time passed so did my allies, Mictipocti was gone and his successor had a different vision, allied with the divine powers of the world my cult was routed out and fed to me in punishment I barely noticed till the Last was bled and my ancient place high in the mountains was sealed closed, forever to contain my diabolic misery. A time of Law had come.

I know not how long I lay dormant, insane, dreaming terrible dreams locked within my prison. I felt disaster strike the land, nations I was sure rose and fell, and then it came to pass, the one true power was gone, his force of law lifted, no longer would the sinful of the world have to fear and surely there were none more wicked now than I ?

I called out to my people in cajoling dreams of sweet temptation, the empire surely needed a power to support it, it would not survive without aid, my will MUST be done. How long I whispered till I was heard I know not, but the dank air in my cavern began to stir and the congealed and rotten depths of my being sensed the approach of sweet innocence, INNOCENCE !!, bubbles sprung forth in slavering hunger from my pools.

I watched in hungry silence as the intruders approached my inner chamber, I could here their names as their own souls and minds involuntarily spoke to me, Tanacatecuhtli, a priest, a dabbler in blood, it was he who had scoured the histories looking for mention of me and my secret place as I tormented his nightly sleep with promises of power. Xolotl was the tribal lord he had persuaded to support him, a long journey they had undertaken to unleash my desire on the world, and yes, they had come prepared, A wooden cage held three captives, virgin blood, searched out by the priest under my direction.

Tanacatecuhtli drew close and opened a dried and ancient tome, motioning to Xolotl to bring one of the young girls forth. Xolotl looked nervous, I could smell his fear, it excited me and I could not help but issue a thin eerie wail as I waited for the inevitable. Gingerly he pushed the bewildered and naked creature towards Tanacatecuhtli who grasped her wrist with his bony hand. Eye’s darting over the tome he began to utter malign words, not spoken for centuries, ceremonial callings to me to accept a new mouth. He had done well, deeply buried in ancient tombs were those magic’s, I had chosen him well. I let my essence awaken, seeping upward from the sluggish deeps I opened my arms to become one with a new Bloodspeaker.

Tanacatecuhtli, The Mictlan Priest
Tanacatecuhtli finished the incantation, the Last months flashing through his mind like the Last moments of his life, he knew that if he made even a single mistake it would be just that, the spell had stretched the limit of his skill, he was not truly enough of a blood adept to be comfortable in casting this but the voice had promised its assistance and more should he succeed. The Last months had passed like a blur, a half waking, half sleeping dream, his body and mind spent to the point that he didn’t truly know if this was all some dread illusion and he would wake in a moment with a Moon priest and at his door with a writ of heresy for him. But the voice had driven him on, fearing his nightmares more than the priesthood elders. He had sneaked around the temples, gathering information and studying old lore with a fever that was almost born of disease, he lost weight, his eyes gaunt and cheeks sunken with the knowledge he was taking in.

What he discovered threatened to steal his sanity, an ancient oracle that had shepherded his primal forefathers prior to the great empire of Mictlan being born, tainted and corrupted by the ancient Kings who birthed the dark priesthoods who’s practice was outlawed but who had returned in the decades since the cataclysm and the loss of the one. Quetzalcoatl the ancient king renowned for his destruction of the blood cults had sought out all those who practiced the arts of blood and fed them to their own oracle and at the Last sealed this ancient horror in the depths of its lair and eradicated as much of its lore from history as was possible to prevent its remergeance.

The voice had whispered that he would not find his answers in the rediscovered tomes that the new blood cults had taken, the Lawgiver had scourged the oracles rituals from that lore, he must look at the ancient halls of records and burials. Initially he had despaired as the old hall of records had succumbed to an earthquake in the cataclysm and only a fraction of the records now remained the rest sealed in dark caverns where the halls had fallen and since been built over. He had needed money and influence neither of which he possessed. Then his chance came, a Tribal leader who was renowned for his battle prowess and cruel vigour with which he brought slaves to the block had fallen foul of church machinations, his lands seized and titles lost. Tanacatecuhtli approached him and with sly words tempted him with promises of power and revenge if only he would assemble a band of his staunchest warriors and accompany him into the cavernous depths below the city.

Xolotl agreed, he was angry and his blood ran hot and so they had ventured into the old undercity to face what lay beneath. The journey had been surprisingly easy, longdead and ghouls easily despatched by Xolotl’s men and the banishment rites he had learned during his tenure in the priesthood. Recovering the records he needed he had discovered in the inventories of a minor priest interred some centuries before an ark, containing a book. This had to be it, returning to the city under cover of night Tanacatecuhtli had slipped into the catacombs following the directions of the manifest he had aquired. The tomb was a plain affair, single stone sarcophagus which he enlisted Xolotl’s brawn to draw from its resting place. Pausing only to check for potential interference they had opened the lid.

Tanacatecuhtli had been puzzled by the appearance of the inhabitant, it did not look like a minor priest, its burial mask far more elaborate than would have been appropriate, but that was a riddle for another day, laying at the foot of the mummy was a small gold ark, its crystal lid still clear and laying inside a black tome. Quickly placing the ark in a sack their thievery done, they sealed the lid and pushed the coffin back into its place.

Returning to my chambers I had begun to study the ancient book, it spoke of rites and rituals needed to bind bloodslaves to a dark oracle and ceremonies and auspices that were required to ensure its power was maintained, I was aghast, the enormous supply of blood needed by this devouring beast was monstrous even by the bloody rites of the current priesthood, how it had maintained such a supply in the much smaller hamlets that it must have attended prior to the great empire that it slept through. After all any sanguine douser knew that a large population was needed to get a good supply of virgin vitae, the country bumpkins were far too keen on deflowering their misbegotten daughters as soon as possible in an effort to gain land or status. Large cities and bloated populous left the fading flowers of beauty intact, with a thousand other sinful distractions rather than the carnal. Ah ! but here was the key, the spirit hunted them out itself, telling its adherents where to seek for the viscous fluid it needed.

I knew now what I must do and planned to contact Xolotl at first light to make the relevant arrangements in the meantime I would sleep and see if this voice would send me the omens of where to find what it needed for its reawakening, three daughters, one of thirteen years of age born under a baleful star and the others twins, to be sacrificed once the binding was performed, I wasn’t sure I had the might to perform this, it was beyond my training, but I had no choice now, my nightmares beckoned me and I was lost unless I could succeed.

That night I slept fitfully, my dreams taunting me with their silken clarity, so close and tantalizingly vivid yet out just out of reach. I awoke drenched with sweat and called for a slave to bring me a dose of tomb lotus. I needed to dream and despite its prohibitive cost I knew I was close to my goal. I prepared the censors, cleansed myself with scented oils and placed the valuable dust onto the small coals I had heated while the slave was away. The dreams came upon me like a tenebrous tidal wave of unimaginable horror, tearing at my already strained sanity, I saw places, things, past, present, I awoke with a start, my sheets stained with sweat and blood, every orifice on my body having seemingly issued it, but I also had the knowledge I needed, clutching my naked body in cramped pain, I called for water to clean myself and sent a message to Xolotl to prepare his troop.

We travelled for many days to the villages where the young girls were secreted away, I had doused for many virgins and so knew the extent to which their families would go, even attempting to violate their own sisters and daughters rather than see them bled on the altars. The twins were a simple matter, the only hitch when a crippled elder flailed at the guards who were securing the girls, only to have Xolotl deliver a crushing blow to the old mans face with the pommel of his Obsidian blade. A days travel and we approached the our Last destination, I was feeling weak and drained as we arrived, a single black raven sat upon the gate post as we approached, brazenly squawking and dodging a small stone thrown by a soldier only to return to its vigil, an omen surely. I looked upwards and for a moment, the clouds shifted and I saw a dark light illuminated in my mind, the baleful star, it must be !!

We cautiously approached the homestead only to discover a girl sat waiting upon the wooden steps leading to the small farmhouse. She was small, with soft black hair, held back from her eyes with a band of folded cloth, but her eyes, were most striking, no pupils, only blackness, a void, I felt myself teetering on the edge of an abyss, the farm and soldiers around me momentarily vanished, then it was gone, I nodded at a soldier nearby and he approached the girl and placed his hand upon her shoulder, I saw the wince on her face before the rough fingers of the soldier had even touched her and felt the surging curse that ran up his arm and dropped him to the floor in pain, the baleful star indeed, he would not survive his next battle of that I felt sure. She came without a struggle, the weeping cries from within the farmhouse the only sound as we silently left, I felt a pit in my stomach all the way to the nine hells.

The rest of the journey went without incident although I could see the portents around us as we climbed the mountain by following a dried and scorched river up to the lower plateau. The river ended abruptly in a wall of ancient rubble, we had arrived, I felt sure of it. Xolotl and his men began to unload picks and tools and under my direction remove the stones. There was no joy in this work, the atmosphere one of oppression tinged with an almost deafening silence for no wildlife howled or barked its presence here. Clearing the rubble took a full three days and fatefully the soldier who had first laid hand upon the speaker was killed by a falling rock from the excavation, his brains rudely dashed out, the men were uneasy but fear of Xolotl kept them working and in check. It was mid morning when I got word that a passage had been uncovered, I hastily prepared myself in my tent and grabbing the tome hurried to the gathered crowd at the tunnel mouth. Xolotl nodded grimly, he was dust covered as he had ventured slightly in to ensure this was the place, I ordered the girls to be brought in their cage.

The walk into the darkness was tense and fear laden, only myself, Xolotl and four men to pull the small cart the cage was upon entered, the tunnel was large, its small opening belaying its actual size, the darkness seemingly swallowing our footsteps whole, only our breathing and the creak of the cart even penetrating our sense’s. There was something on the air also, I couldn’t tell what, I had smelt blood before, many many times, but this was different, an almost deeper timbre to it, though I know that is nonsensical, I could think of no other way to describe it. There were many other details which I barely took notice of, as I could feel something up ahead. Even in my darkest nightmares I could scare conceive what faced us when we stood at the entrance to what was obviously the heart of the cave.

At the centre of the circular chamber was an immense edifice, a fountain, but far larger than those even in glorious Mictlan, its black stone crusted with unnameable substances and its inky depths seemingly unmoving yet at the same time giving the impression of some deep turmoil. Clawing from the centre of the circular and darkened pool was a column standing as tall as two full grown men, each side an elegantly carved statue of a woman, arms folded across their breasts and head bowed, the pinnacle of the fountain a crown of cruel spikes. As beautiful in graven majesty the women were I could not look directly at their faces without feeling a wave of grotesque horror swell from my bowels. The soldiers were muttering in fear, but my time had come, clutching the black tome I stepped forward and motioned for the girl to be brought to me, Xolotl looking ashen faced nodded at his men who herded the winsome creature. Xolotl pushed her, enveloping the chamber an unearthly wail could be heard, imperceptible and yet terrifyingly real, it conveyed one emotion, hunger. Xolotl gritted his teeth and prodded the girl forward, I steeled myself opened the tome and grasped the girls wrist and began to slowly read the unutterable words contained within.

I continued the incantation aware of every fibre of my being, I could see dark red lights sparkling into life deep in the red velvet depths of the fountains pool, moving with a vitality of their own, some dark force rising and then the nearest statue looked up and uncrossed it arms, my words faltered so strong was my terror, but what could I do but continue for I feared unless I was successful I would never leave this chamber again and so I came to the final verse. Almost invisible, I could see a slender stone leading to the central column, the girl, as if sensing the call moaned and slowly walked forward to embrace her fate, the two twins were near hysterical and were being held down by Xolotl’s men, of the tribal warrior himself, I could see only his bowed head and hear his sobbing voice whispering insane denials at what we were witnessing.

Clambering onto the lip of the fountain the girl stood for but a moment and looked briefly over her shoulder at me as I stood, frozen in a mixture of macabre fascination and abject despair, her eyes were no longer black, in each the light of the baleful star she was born under shone with demonic light, sadness so eternally deep washed over me that I fell to my knees, able only to clutch my fevered brow and feel my body wrack with sobs. Slowly walking forward the each of the other statues raised it’s head and screamed an ethereal howl so filled with hellish bliss I sensed the men behind me hitting the ground, I knew not if they were dead, their souls simply torn away in the maelstrom of the oracle or unconscious out of sheer panic. As the girl took her Last steps, I could see the statue lift her in its arms and tenderly take her into a lovers embrace. The pools were now boiling, they Oily scum covered blackness gone, a devlish heat boiling the contents to a frothing and crimson swill. The howling had reached its loudest pitch and then suddenly, Silence.

The girl was no longer gripped by the statue, instead she stood at the foot of the fountain. I tried to speak, but could not muster the will to take breath, instead I inhaled and found myself involuntarily holding my breath, awaiting what would come next. Her eyes were swirling blackness, the evil star united with a greater spirit. Her mouth opened and remained open, but no words issued, instead the room echoed with the dread words.

“I am Zum-Zuaal, Eater of Children, God of the Obsidian Blade and Jaguar King” the cavernous voice echoed round the chamber, its force refusing to fade.

Regaining my composure “I-I-I am Tana…” I began, but the voice boomed

“I know who you are Tanacatecuhtli, Blood priest, you have served my will well, I have tasted your dreams.”, I nodded briefly, awed.

“But we have more still to accomplish” the voice was calmer, “But first, I have not tasted innocence in centuries, I demand blood and your reward shall be the first to feed me, Tanacatecuhtli” The voice wavered, I could sense its hunger and impatience.

Getting to my feet I surveyed my surroundings, Xolotl was weeping on the floor, his soldiers, dead or gone, the two remaining girls, hanging limply from their ropes in the cage. Quickly I gathered myself and moved to the wooden prison, letting the door swing loose, I drew my blade and cut the first girls free and dragged her into my arms, my strength had long since been drained and now only a will to live and serve this power drove me. Her feet leaving channels in the dust I dragged her to the feet of the fountain, and stood panting. Now I was closer I could see at each cardinal point of the Stone lip and indentation much like those I saw countless times on the sacrificial alters In Mictlan. Struggling her into place her head lolled back into the dip and I straddled her prostrate form, her slight breast’s heaving in anticipation of oblivion. Tears running down my face I drew my knife, and looked up, the statue was looking directly at me, urging me on, all I could hear was the rushing sound of my own blood pumping with deafening noise as I screamed the incantation of sacrifice and brought the wavering blade down in a wide slash across the girls throat. I could feel my own ecstasy rushing through me as the girls life blood rushed out and down into the ruddy depths, the pool contracting as would a parched throat gulping at sweet nectar.
I felt numb and barely felt the second sacrifice, mechanically performing the rite as though some grim automaton, elbow deep in innards and arterial spray making my visage all the more horrid. Hours passed as the ghoulish spirit spoke to me of its plans and how I was to execute them.

The one god had gone, the halls of eternity beckoned for those with a will to take up divinity, the time of Mictlan had come, the eater of children would arise and take his place amongst the stars and devour the new born of the world and those who served it well would stand at its side, wield its blades and delve into the viscera of its victims. All the while the girls mouth opening and closing rhythmically, but not in time with the insidious voice. I staggered into the sunlight, my purpose set, Xolotl’s brawny arms holding me up. It was now spring, I hadn’t noticed the passing of winter. I let out a sigh and we began our walk to the city, I had much news to pass to the priests.