Slander Causing Chaos
Landon opened the door to the training ground, and beheld an eerie emptiness. No living souls, no creatures, only an eerie stillness. The ground was littered with the rusted remains of armor, as if the soldiers who once wore them had been reduced to dust. Landon, being but a mere lad of eleven summers, took for himself a suit of armor meant for young squires. He also laid his hands upon a mace, and a small satchel to carry his belongings. Just as he reached for the door handle to depart, a powerful voice bellowed from behind.
"Do not dare open that door, youngling," the voice rumbled through the chamber. Landon turned to behold a figure, clad in steel and wielding a monstrous hammer. The armor was adorned with strange circles that seemed to swirl around the man's form, making him appear as a giant steel orb with only a head, hands, and legs visible. "I am Abel Drukixus, one of the mightiest generals in this dominion, and I shall not suffer your escape."
Landon, with a keen sense of perception, could sense no ill intent emanating from Abel. He spoke with a measured tone, imploring the general to converse with a level head and without anger. "Pray tell, good sir, what is the cause of this unrest in the land? I sense a heavy weight upon thy shoulders," Landon asked, his voice carrying a hint of wisdom beyond his years.
Abel, impressed by the young man's composure, complied with his request. "Indeed, young one, the land is plagued by a darkness that threatens to consume us all. It began with the King Consort, Dan Hracus, who has turned from the worship of the All-Knowing, Zor'kaleth, and now preaches of a new deity, Drogathar, the Wise Dragon. He speaks of punishment and suffering as the path to salvation, and many have been swayed by his words," Abel spoke with a mix of disgust and concern.
Landon listened attentively, his mind racing with the implications of such heretical teachings. "Surely, this cannot be tolerated. To abandon the worship of the All-Knowing, who has guided us for centuries, is an act of treachery. I implore you, good sir, let us speak of this matter with a clear mind and find a way to combat this darkness before it consumes us all," Landon spoke with a sense of urgency and determination.
"The King Consort, Dan Hracus, began to speak of how Zor'kaleth, the All-Knowing god we have prayed to for centuries, had abandoned his throne and left us to our fate," Abel said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "He asked the army to pray for punishment to befall the Dominion, for though crimes were abound, disaster had not struck in many a year. Such treachery against our ancient faith was unthinkable. And yet, the rumors spread like a plague, infecting even the nobles, who began to harm themselves in their fervor. And then, one night, the King Consort did the unimaginable."
"The King Consort, Dan Hracus, stood upon the grand podium outside his castle, his voice amplified by dark magic that carried throughout the capital," Abel spoke with disgust. "He spoke with the fervor of a cultist, his words a blasphemy to those who had long worshiped the All-Knowing, Zor'kaleth."
"Pray to Drogathar, the Wise Dragon, for Zor'kaleth has abandoned his throne," King consort, Dan Hracus cried out, his voice echoing through the streets. "Abandon your old beliefs and embrace the punishment that Drogathar promises, for only through suffering can salvation be achieved."
The words of Dan Hracus were a blight upon the ears of Abel, a general of great renown. "Truly, this is the most heinous of slanders," he spoke with disgust, "even our enemies have never stooped so low as to sully the name of Zor'kaleth, the All-Knowing. How could a mere dragon ever hope to surpass the power of such a divine being? It is an affront to all that is holy and true." The anger and revulsion in his voice were palpable, his fists clenched tightly as he struggled to contain his fury at the blasphemy being spewed by the King Consort.
Abel spoke with disgust in his voice, of the dire state that the once great capital had fallen into. He spoke of how the memories of the people had grown dim, and how even he, a strong and mighty general, could not remember exactly the cause of this disaster. But one thing he knew for certain, it was a curse that had befallen upon this land, a curse brought upon by the traitorous words of King Consort Dan Hracus. Each day the capital grew more and more bleak, as if the very light of the sun had been extinguished and the land was consumed by an eternal darkness.
"Fare thee well, young one," Abel spoke with a heavy heart, "I fear that my mind may soon be consumed by the curse that plagues this land. I implore thee, hasten from this place before my fate befalls thee as well. Take heed, for the fiends that wander these ruins are not of this world, and their brutality knows no bounds". With a heavy heart, Landon bid farewell to the great general and set forth on his journey, ever towards the Cathedral and the truth it held.
Landon bid farewell to Abel and left the room, the weight of the general's words weighing heavily on him as he ventured forth into the abyssal world beyond. The streets were now empty and silent, the once bustling city now nothing but a barren wasteland. Landon pressed on, his determination to reach the Cathedral and uncover the truth behind his mark and his destiny driving him forward, his mace at the ready to defend against any fiends that may cross his path. The sky above was dark and foreboding, the only light coming from the eerie glow of the golden mark on his hand. As he walked, Landon couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, as if the very shadows themselves were closing in on him. But he would not be deterred, for he knew that the answers he sought lay ahead, within the halls of the Cathedral.