Setting
The altar room sits within the original Patronus temple, nestled within the heart of the mountain. Though forgotten by many, the old temple is still maintained for its historical value and out of reverence for those that once presided over it. Lining the walls between the columns stand tall statues of gods and goddesses long forgotten and at the base of each statue resides a small altar. For lighting sputtering cressets ring the room. Further passageways open out from either wall of the room, though the east tunnel is collapsed and impassable.
The Altar Room
The altar room sits within the original Patronus temple, nestled within the heart of the mountain.
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
The Altar Room is a part of 
Mountain Side Temple.
12 Characters Here
Shayla Knosis [22]
Lzothozsh [22] Bigger, darker, meaner. Maddening. [quote]LZOTHOZSH, DEVOURER OF MINDS[/quote]
Pathos Methedon [19] A broken elf, he wanders through the worlds for a calling or a purpose.
Kushin Zetsumei [8] I still had so much to do when they killed me. Too bad I didn't stay down. For them.
Mike "Milk Man" Simmons [6] Warrior among the stars
Guacamole [0] Guacamole
Ashton Valentine A.K.A The Shadow [0] she is a master of every single martial art plus every weapon you can think of(though she prefers knives and the staff). she is one of the most hired assassins of her time.
Pyralis [0] Fire
Halassa [0] WIP
Vates Umbra [0]
Start Character Here »
1 NPCs Here
Reis stared a moment, surprise almost etched all over his face. The silence and shock finally were both broken by a chuckle, and then a laugh as the bard threw back his head. After a moment of what seemed to be oddly humorous reaction to the sombre words, Reis shook his head, finally quietening himself.
'You know, hearing that... I never thought I'd laugh at my own mortality.' Shaking his head again, the smile was almost weary. 'That's why I scurry around. When you're mortal, that looming shadow is always there. I'm all too aware of the sands... But that makes the revelations all the more exciting, you know?'
Cocking the eyebrow again, he touched the right sleeve, reflexively. 'Might as well enjoy the light before someone blows out your candle...'
'You know, hearing that... I never thought I'd laugh at my own mortality.' Shaking his head again, the smile was almost weary. 'That's why I scurry around. When you're mortal, that looming shadow is always there. I'm all too aware of the sands... But that makes the revelations all the more exciting, you know?'
Cocking the eyebrow again, he touched the right sleeve, reflexively. 'Might as well enjoy the light before someone blows out your candle...'
Balthazar stood to the side, arms folded and unimpressed. These people, they were so... Ugh. How did he ever get involved in this mess? He was unmoving, a present watcher, but he was also uninvobled.
No less than twenty men had made the journey, and three women, to the temple in the mountains braving the worsening weather. It seemed like not much, but this was a turning point. With a spawn on Whisper's side she would have the favour of the people. A worrying thought indeed. Hopefully they wouldn't be too moved to act foolishly without her guidance.
They mostly wore black cloaks, each with a yellow eye, the eye of Lzothozsh, imprinted on the front. The symbol of their god.
No less than twenty men had made the journey, and three women, to the temple in the mountains braving the worsening weather. It seemed like not much, but this was a turning point. With a spawn on Whisper's side she would have the favour of the people. A worrying thought indeed. Hopefully they wouldn't be too moved to act foolishly without her guidance.
They mostly wore black cloaks, each with a yellow eye, the eye of Lzothozsh, imprinted on the front. The symbol of their god.
At the forefront of the congregation stood Whisper, adorned in matching robes to the gathered cultist. Balthazar had procured the items for her. He was near at hand, she was certain of that, and she couldn't help but let her mind wander to his involvement in this. Such thoughts could wait until later she decided at last. The cultists would no doubt grow restless soon if things did not begin.
Knelt upon the floor, only a few paces before Whisper and the altar was a cultist, flanked by two more that stood to either side of him. Their sacrifice to be. Upon the altar itself rested a large iron bound chest. The bulky object had taken two men to bring it inside.
At last, Whisper began to speak, addressing the crowd as she stared blindly ahead. “We are gathered here today, in reverence to our great Lord, Lzothozsh, for He has seen fit to bestow one of his children unto myself. On this holiest of days, His child will be reborn to us.”
Waving a hand, Whisper instructed the men to begin. Taking hold of the kneeling cultist, they were tasked to keep him in place. The sacrifice was a willing one, but having your head devoured was a less than pleasant ordeal. She could not risk the spawn coming to harm, not now.
Knelt upon the floor, only a few paces before Whisper and the altar was a cultist, flanked by two more that stood to either side of him. Their sacrifice to be. Upon the altar itself rested a large iron bound chest. The bulky object had taken two men to bring it inside.
At last, Whisper began to speak, addressing the crowd as she stared blindly ahead. “We are gathered here today, in reverence to our great Lord, Lzothozsh, for He has seen fit to bestow one of his children unto myself. On this holiest of days, His child will be reborn to us.”
Waving a hand, Whisper instructed the men to begin. Taking hold of the kneeling cultist, they were tasked to keep him in place. The sacrifice was a willing one, but having your head devoured was a less than pleasant ordeal. She could not risk the spawn coming to harm, not now.
Whisper meanwhile moved to stand behind the chest, her hands resting atop it. “Before us kneels a true devotee, and one who has earned a place of honor to walk amongst the heavens when the reckoning comes. He will kneel in the presence of our Lord and be rewarded for his sacrifice. With His blessing, and the gift of this child, we will begin to pave the way for His awakening which is nigh at hand.”
With the eyes of the cultists upon her, Whisper released the catch on the chest, opening it and stepping back. Within it rested the spawn of Lzothozsh.
“Those that would weave falsehoods and lead us astray will be judged, and they will burn beneath the wrath of His eye. I am the true prophet, the bringing of tidings, and the herald of Lzothozsh. The Corruption is our enemy. He is a false priest who would see us destroyed. He fancies himself a god among gods, and would betray our Lord.”
As the spawn began to rise from within the chest, Whisper's words grew more intense. “This day will mark the beginning of the end. With the assimilation of Lzothozsh's child, we will proclaim our truth faith and devotion before the eyes of our Lord, and when the Corruption is laid low and I stand in his place as the true prophet of Lzothozsh, we will kneel in His presence and we will know no fear for he will grant us entrance into his kingdom while the unfaithful are devoured. The world will be remade in is image.”
With the eyes of the cultists upon her, Whisper released the catch on the chest, opening it and stepping back. Within it rested the spawn of Lzothozsh.
“Those that would weave falsehoods and lead us astray will be judged, and they will burn beneath the wrath of His eye. I am the true prophet, the bringing of tidings, and the herald of Lzothozsh. The Corruption is our enemy. He is a false priest who would see us destroyed. He fancies himself a god among gods, and would betray our Lord.”
As the spawn began to rise from within the chest, Whisper's words grew more intense. “This day will mark the beginning of the end. With the assimilation of Lzothozsh's child, we will proclaim our truth faith and devotion before the eyes of our Lord, and when the Corruption is laid low and I stand in his place as the true prophet of Lzothozsh, we will kneel in His presence and we will know no fear for he will grant us entrance into his kingdom while the unfaithful are devoured. The world will be remade in is image.”
The creature floated forward, released from its prison. Judging by the lazy way it floated it cared neither about its containment nor the congregation before it. But at the same time the creature knew what was happening. It had been here at least once before.
Almot gleefully it floated right past Whisper, and the glee would indeed be felt its passing. The nearest cultist would be unfortunate. As the eye grew closer to the man the jelly of it presed to his forehead and slowly his entire head was enveloped.
He could be heard, drowning, but he made a good effort to keep his hands down at his sides. Until the teeth chomped down. Blood was drawn, but it was difficult to tell if the creature was eating or just trying to remove his head. It didn't pull or tear like an animal would, but instead it just chomped and chomped and chomped.
The teeth were sharp, but it took several goes before anything vital was severed. The man was choking before his spine snapped. It would take a few more bites before the muscle and other pieces of flesh tore.
Rippling from the eye came blackness, some sort of gross extension. It latched on where the neck remained, merging with the flesh. For a moment the body hung loosely before the eye rose, tugging the body up like a sick puppet. It would take a few days before the flesh would blacken.
Or the abridged version for Whisper. A feeling of glee in passing, drowning noises and panic, violent squelching and hacking, then glee once again, returning to stand next to her side.
Almot gleefully it floated right past Whisper, and the glee would indeed be felt its passing. The nearest cultist would be unfortunate. As the eye grew closer to the man the jelly of it presed to his forehead and slowly his entire head was enveloped.
He could be heard, drowning, but he made a good effort to keep his hands down at his sides. Until the teeth chomped down. Blood was drawn, but it was difficult to tell if the creature was eating or just trying to remove his head. It didn't pull or tear like an animal would, but instead it just chomped and chomped and chomped.
The teeth were sharp, but it took several goes before anything vital was severed. The man was choking before his spine snapped. It would take a few more bites before the muscle and other pieces of flesh tore.
Rippling from the eye came blackness, some sort of gross extension. It latched on where the neck remained, merging with the flesh. For a moment the body hung loosely before the eye rose, tugging the body up like a sick puppet. It would take a few days before the flesh would blacken.
Or the abridged version for Whisper. A feeling of glee in passing, drowning noises and panic, violent squelching and hacking, then glee once again, returning to stand next to her side.
The whole ordeal was distasteful enough that for once, Whisper was glad of her blindness. The sounds alone were sickening to her, even within her current state of mind. She could hear it moving then, feel it at her side. Her first instinct was to destroy it and be done with this farce, but she stood dutifully before the congregation, unwavering.
The hand of the thing next to her reached out to entwine in hers. There was no empathy to be felt there, no emotions to be enhanced from the touch. Just a stiff, luke-warm and partially sweaty palm pressed to hers.
If she didn't act in revulsion there would be an immediately response of surprised murmers, shuffling of movement, and erratic emotions from fear to joy amongst the cultists.
If she didn't act in revulsion there would be an immediately response of surprised murmers, shuffling of movement, and erratic emotions from fear to joy amongst the cultists.
Whisper felt a sense of disgust at the touch, but she remained motionless long enough to not betray such feelings of resentment. As the murmurs grew, Whisper spoke out once more. “The one named Malachi must be brought before me, to be judged before His eye.”
It was only then that Whisper at last moved away from the spawn. Turning away, Whisper abandoned the happenings in favor of making her way towards the inner reaches of the temple, away from this madhouse of cultist activity that was leaving her disoriented. The gathered cultists could gawk over the spawn in their midst a while longer, Whisper's part in things had been fulfilled, they would not miss her presence.
It was only then that Whisper at last moved away from the spawn. Turning away, Whisper abandoned the happenings in favor of making her way towards the inner reaches of the temple, away from this madhouse of cultist activity that was leaving her disoriented. The gathered cultists could gawk over the spawn in their midst a while longer, Whisper's part in things had been fulfilled, they would not miss her presence.
The spawn turned to follow her, feet scuffing as the body it controlled awkwardly shuffled after her. Balthazar stepped from the side. "Those who do not wish to brave the weather may remain for the night. There is bedding available. But those wishing to leave may. Spread the word that we seek Malachi."
The cultists began to disperse in the two directions, but Balthazar was hot on Whisper's heels. It was a clone he had left to address the cultists. He needed to speak with her. Spawn be damned.
The cultists began to disperse in the two directions, but Balthazar was hot on Whisper's heels. It was a clone he had left to address the cultists. He needed to speak with her. Spawn be damned.
There was a distant thrum of noise, like a series of vibrating voices all calling in unison. It made it near impossible to focus on any damn thing. And only naturally it came from the altar room of the entire temple, where presently a congregation gathered.
Whisper had ignored the noise for a time, lingering in the library as she often did when the weather was unfavorable for venturing out into the mountains beyond. For three days now the snow had been coming in droves, and she was restless as it is. The noise only proved a further irritation to an already distracted mind until she finally gave up on her quiet contemplations to seek out its source.
The scene was a disturbing matter. One voice, alien, the spawn, called out to temple from their elevated position. Occasionally the wet slap of fist against book or object or self could be heard as if to give punctuation to its words. Whatever audience it held lay silent for the moment, until a particularly loud buzzing came to finish the spawns speech.
And was met with a dozen replies of the same. The room was full of spawns, all listening to their priest or pastor giving his own speech.
And was met with a dozen replies of the same. The room was full of spawns, all listening to their priest or pastor giving his own speech.
Whisper paused, lingering in the passageway to the altar room. The noise ahead was a steady drone, and a frown graced her expression. She edged closer, and for the first time in weeks found her thoughts wandering to the loss of her vision. She had been coping well, but her senses simply weren't honed enough to replace what she had lost.
A sickening splodge of black goop moved to envelope Whisper's arm, along with more of the same inhuman language which echoed across the walls, except much, much closer. Barely a foot from her face.
Whisper jerked her arm back in surprise at the sticky substance that enveloped her arm. So abrupt was her withdraw that she stumbled back a step, catching herself on a lit cresset. The pain was abrupt and she jerked her hand back from the hot metal with a hiss of her breath. Holding her singed hand, she tried to recollect her nerves.
"What do you want?" she asked the spawn, assuming it the cause of the comotion going on. It hadn't yet occured to her that there were seemingly many. The question was silly though, as it surely couldn't talk. "Never mind," she muttered nursing her hand.
"What do you want?" she asked the spawn, assuming it the cause of the comotion going on. It hadn't yet occured to her that there were seemingly many. The question was silly though, as it surely couldn't talk. "Never mind," she muttered nursing her hand.
"I was just asking what you thought," Balthazar muttered. "Your cultists have been listening to that thing for a good half-hour, like they can understand whatever gibberish comes from its... Face." He shifted and leant against the wall. "I can't imagine he'll rant for much longer, but it seems the spawn has an idea or two of his own on this cult of yours."
"What?" Whisper asked before shaking her head and rubbing at her brow. "No, you just startled me." She had been out of sorts for days, but couldn't quite put her finger on the source of her troubles. Memory lapses and confusion were such a part of her life, that she took it largely in stride, covering as fluidly as possible.
"Ideas? What do you mean?" she asked, pushing the conversation onward before Balthazar might think to inquire into her unnerved state.
"Ideas? What do you mean?" she asked, pushing the conversation onward before Balthazar might think to inquire into her unnerved state.
He gestured, a pointless action. "Ah, well... He just walked up to the altar and started talking. At first I thought he was hungry and wanted a sacrifice, but then the devout gathered and I realised, I know this. I know these poses, this tone, the speech pattern. He's giving a sermon. I think our only condolence is that not an individual can understand him."
The mob had gathered around to stare intently and listen, but the spawns voice had softened from its itensity and lecturing tone to what sounded like a last few words, before silence. "He's leaving, might want to move aside," Balthazar encouraged with a small nudge for Whisper to step closer to the wall, before doing so himself on the opposite wall.
The mob had gathered around to stare intently and listen, but the spawns voice had softened from its itensity and lecturing tone to what sounded like a last few words, before silence. "He's leaving, might want to move aside," Balthazar encouraged with a small nudge for Whisper to step closer to the wall, before doing so himself on the opposite wall.
Whisper was perplexed at the request, but did as she was instructed. Her reliance on Balthazar to be her eyes was beginning to vex her though, especially after the other day. She didn't trust the man, and she had lost sight of that with everything that had been going on. It was a necessary reliance, but one which she would need to sever before all was said and done.
The sound of wet splodging steps like someone covered in mud passed the pair of them, before Balthazar exhaled in relief. "I have become... Uncertain on the topic of that thing," Balthazar admitted. "I've never seen it actually do anything until today."
"You worry needlessly," Whisper responded. "If it keeps the masses enthralled, then it's a benefit to us, is it not?" she asked. "It was at your urging that we utilize it at all."
There something more behind her words though, something she wasn't quite certain of herself. Some intrigue that lent her to keeping the thing around, despite Balthazar's increasing discomfort with its presence.
There something more behind her words though, something she wasn't quite certain of herself. Some intrigue that lent her to keeping the thing around, despite Balthazar's increasing discomfort with its presence.
"Mhm," he merely answered, heading turning aside with a rustle of his hair. "Someone around here has to worry. If I don't, then who will remind you of the dangers we face?" His voice drifted off as he slowly wandered away from her, into the altar room.
The room was dark, lit only by the candelabras littered to either side of the room, moved from their initial placing to make room for benchs, long and made of wood. Whisper herself would be at the altar, facing an audience of her cultists who were in much greater numbers than previous. There was only one spot missing, right up the back between two men. Only one of her eyes was damaged, giving her half the vision she would normally expect.
And then from the back approached a figure, the spawn. He didn't seem to wish to draw attention, instead moving to sit between the two men at the back.
And then from the back approached a figure, the spawn. He didn't seem to wish to draw attention, instead moving to sit between the two men at the back.
The black ooze managed to smudge the other men, but they barely seemed to notice, and it began to spread. Up their arms, enveloping their bodies, until all that remained was their heads. These began to warp, eyes bulging in their heads, escaping their sockets and beginning to merge in the center, until they enveloped the skull entirely and formed but a lone pupil. But before the transformation finished, the black ooze spreaded onwards to the next in line, bodies being devoured by the black.
Each man was slowly turning into a spawn.
Each man was slowly turning into a spawn.
Soon the number of eyes on Whisper was halving, leaving on gleefully glaring eyes peering at her from the stands, body after body being swallowed up by blackness. The corruption infected each row, each man, ignoring things like space between them. It flowed outwards from the spawn and all the way up until every cultist was consumed and replaced.
All that remained was Whisper in a room of silence with her spawn-cultists. Any motion of her hands, however, would reveal she was similarly afflicted. And any words from her mouth would only be the alien language.
All that remained was Whisper in a room of silence with her spawn-cultists. Any motion of her hands, however, would reveal she was similarly afflicted. And any words from her mouth would only be the alien language.