webnovel

Alteration's Age

In the land of the forgotten, where the very earth moan with the weight of ages past, a child was born unto a village of rot and despair. A mark of the abnormal, a black marking on his right hand, did mark the child as an outcast, shunned by all. But fate did not always follow the path of man. For the child was no mere mortal, but a reincarnation of the final wish of the gods. "You are the chosen one, the vessel of god. Your destiny is to bring forth the age of the absolute will and wield the warp of reality." Thus did the child set forth on a journey, a journey beyond flesh and blood. A path wrought with danger and death. The fiends, born from the corruption of the land, do still roam the land, their very presence poisoning the earth. But the child, with the marking of the gods, did wield the powers of the ancients and the strength of the gods. Through trials and tribulations, the child did learn to harness the power within, and to control the will of the absolute.

Gardama · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
10 Chs

The Road to the Cathedral: Saint Dlobb

With heavy foot and wary gaze, Landon made his way through the deserted streets, his mace clutched firmly in hand as he followed the map he had obtained from the administrative chamber. Though the parchment seemed to guide him true, he could not banish the feeling of dread that clung to him like a shroud as he traversed the desolate wasteland, for fiends still prowled the ruins, their twisted, monstrous forms a constant reminder of the accursed fate that had befallen the land.

As he drew closer to the Cathedral, Landon began to despair, Landon beheld the desolate ruins before him, searching in vain for the grand Cathedral that had beckoned him forth on his journey. The once proud edifices of the city had been reduced to nought but crumbling hovels, bereft of any ornamentation or grandeur. Was it possible that the Cathedral, the very key to unlocking the secrets of his mark and fate, had been laid low by the curse that had befallen the land? Such thoughts filled Landon with a sense of impending despair, for if the Cathedral was no more, then what hope was there for him and his quest.

Suddenly, the golden mark on his hand began to speak to him, urging him to focus. Landon's mind was filled with a sense of purpose as the mark upon his hand continue to speak, its ancient voice filled with wisdom and a sense of urgency. "Focus, Landon," it urged. "The Cathedral you seek is not lost, but hidden behind an illusionary veil. Do not be deceived by the crumbling hovels and desolate streets. The answer you seek is not to be given so easily. Learn, and understand that true understanding comes not from answers given, but from the journey and effort to uncover them."

After searching frantically, trying each door he came across in his quest for the Cathedral. One house in particular caught his eye, Upon it, a letter was affixed, its script archaic and foreboding. He approached the door with caution, and read the inscription: "Beneath the earth, the holy halls doth lie, Only for those who the key do espie. The well of secrets, the path doth provide, To the sacred halls, where the ancients reside." The words were a riddle, a test set forth by the ancients to separate the worthy from the unworthy. He knew that the Cathedral, and the answers he sought, lay behind this door, but the path would not be an easy one.

At first Landon struggled to decipher their meaning, but eventually he understood. The Cathedral could be accessed through a well, and the key to its depths lay in his possession, given to him by Kalista. He approached the well with trepidation, for he knew not what horrors lay within. But he steeled himself, for he was a warrior of great renown, and would not be deterred by mere shadows.

Landon, with a sense of foreboding, approached the well, his mace held at the ready as he scanned the area for any signs of impending danger. But alas, there was none, the area was eerily still, bereft of any fiends or other perils. As he peered into the inky depths of the well, he saw no ladder or means of descent. Frustration mounting, he held aloft the key that Kalista had bestowed upon him, and held it upon the well's gaping maw. And lo, as if by some arcane magic, a gust of wind began to swirl around the well, and to his amazement, a ladder materialized from the very air itself, beckoning him to descend into the unknown.

Landon descended the ladder, each rung creaking beneath his weight as he ventured deeper into the earth. As he descended, the light from above grew dim, and the air grew colder, a sense of foreboding creeping upon him as he ventured further into the unknown depths. At long last, he reached the bottom of the well, and all that lay before him was a large boulder, its presence seeming to mock his quest for answers.

He approached the boulder with caution, his mace held aloft in readiness. He examined the stone closely, searching for any sign of weakness or hidden mechanism. As he did, he noticed a faint inscription etched upon the surface - 'Only through strength and perseverance shall the path be revealed.' With determination, Landon raised his mace high and struck the boulder with all his might. Again and again he struck, until at last, with a resounding crack, the boulder began to shift and move, revealing a steel door. Landon could scarce believe his eyes - he had found the entrance to the Cathedral, and the path to the answers he so desperately sought.

Landon knew not what lay beyond, but he knew he had found the way to the Cathedral, a sacred place of worship that had been lost to curse. He inserted the key that Kalista had given him, and with a great turning of the lock, the door opened, revealing a stairway that wound its way upwards. The stairway was long and winding, and it was covered in a thick red carpet. He could sense the age and the weight of history in the air as he began his ascent, unsure of what lay ahead but driven by the desire to uncover the truth.

After what felt like an eternity, Landon emerged victorious from the winding stair, his eyes alighting upon the grand cathedral that lay before him. The walls were adorned with intricate frescoes, depicting scenes of ancient battles and grand deeds. The floors were of polished marble, and the air was thick with the scent of incense. At the front of the cathedral room stood a statue, grand and imposing, of Zor'kaleth, the All-Knowing. Landon knew in his heart that he had reached the end of his journey, and that the truth he sought lay within these hallowed halls.

Landon, his heart filled with reverence and awe, approached the statue of Zor'kaleth, the All-Knowing. As he neared the altar, he heard a voice from behind him, a voice that carried the weight of centuries and the wisdom of the ages. He turned to behold a tall, bald man, garbed in regal vestments of gold and scarlet, holding aloft a talisman of intricate design. The man asked Landon if he was seeking the Earthen Hell, his voice carrying the weight of authority and knowledge. Landon, confused, asked how the man knew of his quest. The man replied, "Because we all do seek it as well, my weary traveler." And with that, he revealed himself as Saint Dlobb, the guardian and keeper of the cathedral, and one of the few who still walked the earth with knowledge of the ancient ways.