The Abbey of Daas'Rika

Date: 7/19/2013 at 13:37
From: Anonymous
To : Everyone
Subj: The Abbey of Daas'Rika

The monk dipped his quill in ink and took a deep breath, the stained tip of his writing instrument hovering a hair's breadth above the parchment.

Things had not gone well... not well at all...

For the first time in his long lived life, he was experiencing doubt. Serving under She of Endless Paths had been all he had known, all he had wanted and all that defined him. But things had not gone well...

The vision came from her, as always, a yearning call that he could not deny. He was instructed to open the gates of the Abbey to the outside world. The Abbey would anchor itself into Midkemian reality, into the year 48 after the Darkness at Sethanon. The Lady claimed that Midkemians were ripe for knowledge and they would seek out the Abbey and learn of the monks' ways.

And that part was true. He had opened the wooden gates, tasting the fresh air of the Grey Towers, delighting in the majestic beauty of the scenery around him. But had they not always been there? They had and they hadn't, but things had never felt so real.

A psychic call was sent out to all those gifted, all those who would hear with their mind, beckoning them to come and meet the monks and, through them, meet Daas'Rika Herself.

And come they did...of all races and ages.

The first to arrive were the Eledhel, Savil being the first mortal to cross the Abbey's holy threshold. Soon followed the Moredhel - Tora, Starra and Aidan. Soon after, the humans came as well, but it would be the Moredhel who would play the most important part in how events would unfold. It is almost ironic...

The monk pauses for a moment, the sound of the quill scratching upon paper ceasing, plunging his chambers into complete silence once more. He closes his eyes, the images of recent events springing to life vividly behind his closed eyelids. There they all are, eager students just learning how to manipulate space and time: Zacc plucking a fruit from a future version of an orange tree, Aria and Starra wandering upon the Lady's Endless Paths, lost and bemused and Raune, ah Raune, falling beneath the blade of his own reflection.

And this young moredhel would play a pivotal role in the horror that would unfold.

The monk exhales loudly, his breath causing the candle on his desk to flicker, the little flame shaking as if caught in the vice of fear. The quill begins its rhythmic scratching once more, committing to paper what followed next:

"And then did Raune, the Moredhel, receive the Abbot's true blessing, for he was first to complete the Trials of the Initiate and be welcomed within our ranks. And then did Raune, the Moredhel, hear in his mind the holy words of our Lady Daas'Rika and she did beckon him to her side, promising her promises of power. And then did she set him upon her Task, guiding him towards the means of releasing her into this world."

The details of how that came to be were unclear to the monk and he wrote that down. It was only clear that, somehow, Raune performed what was asked of him by Daas'Rika and then, the world changed...

The old man rubs at his eyes, letting loose a weary sigh, as he takes a moment to contemplate what followed. Daas'Rika entered Midkemia, coming from Gods know where, and in her wake, reality shivered and transformed. From a place which never existed and a history that never happened, she brought forth a bloodthirsty version of the Glamredhel, warriors bent on enslaving the world.

As he continues to pen his chronicles, the monk smiles slightly out of the corner of his mouth, because what then happened restored a bit of his faith in the people of Triagia. Quickly coming to the defense of their lands, the Moredhel rallied their armies and leaders, braving the defenses and warriors of Neldarlod in an attempt to set right the history of the world. Guided by a mysterious figure that later revealed himself to be an aspect of Banath, this warlike people, always fighting to reclaim their ancestral lands, fought tooth and nail and, once again, made history repeat itself: the Moredhel brought the Glamredhel to the brink of extinction. In a turn of righteous fate, the warriors of Sar-Sargoth once again obliterated Neldarlod.

Then came the moment that made this old monk turn upon his faith. The Lady Daas'Rika herself was torn from the skies and came down to Triagia, faced with the possibility of defeat upon the world she sought to control. No longer the motherly figure that had guided this monk's soul all of his life, now a weapon of destruction and malice, she sent her deathly touch towards those who would oppose her, ironically slaying Raune first, the very man who had helped her manifest.

But fate was not on Daas'Rika's side, for the nations of Triagia would not stand to see their world kneeled before an otherworldly invader. Malapardis, the mad doctor of Sar-Sargoth, came forth with a plea to all people that they should put aside their differences and fight together to banish this threat. It was merely perhaps because the moredhel decided that they can't conquer a world that faces the possibility of extinction, but it worked.

Led by Xarcon and Aritaelis, the eledhel marched towards Inclindel Gap, where the battle raged with Daas'Rika . From the south, Erwing rallied the Armies of the West and joined the fierce war of man against divine.

But she was not a Goddess ...
... and she was felled and banished.

The monk stands up and drops the quill into its inkwell. Slamming the tome he was writing on shut, he replaces it in the Abbey's bookcase. There was nothing left for him here. His Goddess was just another creature that sought power and domination.

With grim determination, he walks outside the gates of Daas'Rika Abbey, stepping into a land that he is not familiar with, hoping to once again find his place into a world that is not his own.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Nuna, in the year 48.