Snippet #2386450

Melek – Valeish cultist of the Idol
Unknown location
When Melek opened his eyes he found himself in a familiar location. Dirt and grass beneath his feet, with fog clouding all other features of the terrain. Melek stretched his shoulders and looked around. Had he fallen asleep again? He could remember watching the Idol with anticipation, waiting for the moment it would free itself from its mundane trappings. A frown appeared on his face as Melek reflected on this. Why was he so eager again? He had done terrible things to achieve this and to what end? Just so he could have a smidgen of power, to accomplish some madman’s goal of punishing the unjust. It was not his place to do so, was it? ”We meet again. I must admit I am glad to see you’re alright.” The smooth and soft voice of the woman he had met earlier emerged from the fog behind him. With a smile he couldn’t stop he turned around and saw her there, with a delicate smile on her face. His smile soon faded as the questions he had asked himself just moments before returned to haunt him. Upon noticing this, the woman spoke again. ”It seems you finally noticed. The Idol is corrupting you… but here, you are safe.” Melek shot her a puzzled look, she had been concerned for his safety when he was here before, but she seemed much calmer now. She smiled again, before answering his unspoken question. ”My father and I… we talked. And perhaps more importantly he has calmed down somewhat, he should be here soon to meet you.”

Melek smiled sheepishly, it was like he was meeting the father of his deceased wife all over again. With a shake of his head he cleared his mind of the random thoughts that seemed so intent on cluttering it. He needed to focus, now, here, in this place where the incessant badgering of the Idol no longer kept rational thoughts from his mind. The woman walked over closer to him before turning around, to face the direction she came from. Melek looked in the same direction, his stomach clenching up in anticipation. As if they rehearsed it, a large man, a skin in a dark hue of bronze, clad in black armour with a hooded cloak over it and armed with a sword as tall as Melek was, emerged from the fog. His unnaturally blue, but blood shot eyes focused on Melek. Melek stared into those eyes and could feel his knees buckle from the sheer pressure this man exuded. A steadying hand from the woman touched his shoulder and kept him from falling, but Melek still felt weak as he stared at the man. Was this a god? Melek could scarcely believe it. The man seemed to take no notice of Melek’s weakness and spoke, his voice a whispery rasp that seemed to emerge as much from the fog around Melek as from the man himself. ”Destroy the Idol. I have no patience for those who wish to kill themselves and you are stretching my patience very thin. This is your last chance.” Melek opened his mouth and closed it a few times in repetition. What was he supposed to say? He looked to the woman for support but she merely smiled apologetically. With a whimper Melek answered. ”I… I will…” He said, even as he finally managed to avert his eyes from the god. Despite not seeing it, Melek could almost feel the man give a curt nod before he walked away again, his footsteps slowly fading. At the same time, darkness rushed in from all sides and for a moment, Melek felt as though he was falling.

With a gasp Melek opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep. He arched his back and noticed he was sitting with his back against the far wall of his quarters. He could see the puddle of ash that was once a priest and the Idol sitting on its altar even as fog poured from it incessantly. Melek got up slowly and looked around. He could hear the Idol, its unintelligible blathering, but it seemed weaker somehow. He would have only one chance at this. He rushed up the stairs and out the temple to the small tool shack besides it. He grabbed the largest hammer he could find. He winced slightly, as an well-known pain shot up his leg. With a limp he tried to force himself back into the temple. His mind flooded with images of his dead family, with the faces of his wife and daughter and all the people he killed. He stumbled down the stairs into his quarters and shuffled over to the Idol. His head felt like it was bursting as he lifted the hammer high over his head, staring into the black pits that were now the Idol’s eyes. With a roar he brought the hammer down with all the strength he could muster. When the hammer made impact with the Idol it shattered. Shards of his hammers flew everywhere, some piercing Melek’s chest and shoulder. He stared at the Idol as it sat there, unharmed. With a sob Melek fell to his knees, staring at his hands. It was useless. It was too powerful. He should never have tried. He began sobbing more and more as the images in his head drowned out all other thought. After a while, the sobbing stopped and a grin appeared on Melek’s features. If he couldn’t destroy the Idol, he should simply use it. There was no other way. The damage it could cause in the hands of a madman would be too great. He had to keep it safe, he had to be the one to free it. The outer shell was too strong, but what lay in wait inside, that couldn’t possibly be as tough. It was his only chance, he had to free the Idol and destroy it once it was unleashed. It was the only way.

With the grin still on his face he walked back up the stairs and out the temple, wobbling this way and that all the while. As he walked he repeated the same words over and over again. ”Just one more… just one more… just one more…” Even as he wobbled through the streets, looking for his final victim, a thick fog seemed to be settling on the city again and the howling of strange creatures could be heard in the distance.