The Shores of Cursed Salt and Sea

#1

The Ruins of the Sea Kings spread far to the west of the Auf Ka Mountains on the southern most penninsula of Vima, largest continent on the planet Refuge. Even the shimmer of the mountains’ thermal vents did not distract from the cityscape’s strange aura.

Lord Azrael the All-knowing, fallen Falosini Sovereign stood on the cracked red stone of the peak of the tallest of the Auf Ka Mountains. The winds whipped around his armored form, but his six long black wings were pulled in tight to prevent an errant gust from driving him from the pinnacle. Looking down with eyes like blue stars glowing in the impenetrable blackness of his cowl, Azrael felt a presence reaching out from the cursed ruins.

It was still living, or at least some consciousness, some throbbing Will was plotting planning, and waiting.

The year according to the Earthers was 2218 After Refuge, and Azrael knew it would be barely a year before the being known as the Warmonger, his greatest foe, was released and would be triumphantly defeated once again.

Azrael knew this because every thing he had done for Aeons had been focused on these upcoming years. In defeating Warmonger this time, Azrael would force the Ancient Evil to draw power from other dimensions he had conquered at the expense of his power there.

But there was a stirring here, far to the south of the Earther Colonies, past the deep deserts far into the Goblin Lands (as the Earthers derogitorily called these lands). Something that could upset every carefully laid plan that Azrael had made.

It involved an angry K’iorn Grandfather, and an Ascended Being who was close to losing his faith. And here as Azrael watched and waited, The Nngao was stalking an Earther dressed as a Church of One Paladin.

#2

He was tall and thin, with a golden tan and long ragged blond hair. His long ears and expressive eyes showed him to be a K’iorn, bred for battle by the Falosini in ages past.
Once he had a name, once he had honor, a family, pride in himself. Now…now he had nothing. Once again.

Now he was known as Nngao. Nngao was the K’iorn word for outcast. Translating roughly as dark foreigner, it meant one who was unknown, from a far place whose dishonorable ways could not be trusted. When a K’iorn disgraced themselves, their tribe or their Zaodonai (Warchief) in a profound way they would be declared an nngao and banished. As most K’iorn, Baribur and K’iou will kill an nngao on sight, it is a death sentence for most.
But on the planet Refuge, there was an Nngao who survived so long and accomplished so many deeds of greatness after his disgrace that he was often called The Nngao.

The Nngao had traveled here after the end of the Border Wars to the north. He wasn’t fleeing war, like so many, he was chasing peace. The Nngao’s own grandchildren had been kidnapped as hostages during the Border Wars, despite being little more than babies. Only once he had rescued his grandchildren and returned them to their parents could Nngao rest. Though he still looked young and handsome, for K’iorn were often ageless looking, the Nngao’s eyes were filled with unquenchable rage.

He was here, sneaking through the Cursed Ruins of the Sea Kings, hunting for a single wanderer. An Eather who had escaped the Church of One Inquisition in Dunesphere, despite being labelled the most foul sort of heretic. That Earther was a man named Abel Dragonsbane, and he had stolen the greatest power source the Children of the Falosini had ever known. Using this power source, this Earther could instantly find the babies that Nngao so desperately sought.

Nngao flicked his wrist and a slender blade shaped from Khaz’gha wood extended from where it was mounted on his forearm. The ceremonial dark blades called Nnghai, these were the traditional weapons of a K’iorn, and they were Nngao’s constant companions.

If he killed the Earther, Nngao was sure this Dragonsbane would use the power to flee his corporeal form and ascend once again. Then he would beyond Nngao’s reach.

Nngao stepped into the shadow cast by a shattered pillar, and stepped out from another shadow cast by a wall mere feet from his target.

#3

Lost, again, thought Abel Dragonsbane, damnable human senses.
He had ascended, descended once again to try and redeem the Church of One, a racist and intolerant faith from the Colony of Dunesphere. Despite great progress hiding out as the Patriach of the Dragonsbane Knights and helping them find compassion, Abel had been poisoned by the mad Inquisitor Mortis Leonin.
Unable to move or leave his poisoned body, and unable to ascend while trapped in flesh, Abel had suffered as the people of Dunesphere fell further to evil under the demogoging Ancient Evil known as the Accuser. Abel had been tormented, mind, body and spirit and had to escape the hard way.

Still slightly delirious, Abel had drawn upon the power of the Bladed Sun to fly south remembering the mad inquisitor’s fiend-inspired ramblings about the Cursed Ruins of the Sea Kings. Above all else Abel had to stop Mortis Leonin from deploying any alien weapons hidden here in the cause of the Church of One.

Though he had snuck past packs of Pit Mongrels, patrolling Warmonger’s Dead and even an occasional Warwalker, Abel knew someone was following him. Someone dangerous, perhaps even more dangerous than Inquisitor Leonin.

“Who Goes there?” he asked, “I do not wish to harm anyone anymore, traveler.”

#4

Without a word, Lord Azrael moved one hand a quarter of an inch to the left. The breeze shifted slightly, seemingly inconsequentially. Meanwhile his ancient mind peered through and sifted through possible futures confirming each step to guarantee success with the minimal loss.

So many choices, so many dangers.

#5

Their fur was blood red, and their eyes milky white and unable to see anything. But they had a sense of smell that allowed them to track almost any prey that could enter the cursed Ruins. They were six feet tall and musclebound, with mutated Olgog features, carrying Krato-bone axes. And they were known as Pit Mongrels.
When the wind changed it brought the sweet smell of K’iorn sweat and the acrid smell of Earther sweat and oily smell of metal armor. These were enough to draw out ten of the biggest angriest looking Pit Mongrels who had a fierce hunger for some flesh.
They stealthily crept up on Nngao and The Bladed Sun, preparing to pounce on both of the unsuspecting heroes.

#6

Nngao had only survived this long by taking certain basic precautions. And one was using the Leyas to enhance his sense of smell. The smell of the approaching Pit Mongrels, scents of sulfur, dirty fur and blood comingled and gave its warning.

“Knight who calls himself the Bladed Sun,” whispered Nngao, “I wish to discuss an important family matter with you, but first we may be surrounded by mutated Olgogs, creatures called Pit Mongrels. Any way you can use your ascended powers to simply flick them out of existence?”

If not, he thought, we better ready for battle.

#7

“Would that I could, brave Dra’koon,” replied Abel, recognizing the rare khaz’gha wood mail the alien warrior wore, “But while in this form I am limited to my abilities during my corporeal life. Im good with a sword though.”

“A sword, heh, are we playing honor duel, Knight?” asked the K’iorn mockingly, “We may need to fight a little more creatively than.”

“I guess so,” agree Abel, “An Ambush it is, brave Dra’koon, prepare yourself. These Pit Mongrels must be driven off.”

#8

The battle was swift, and both Abel and Nngao escaped thanks to Nngao’s quick thinking. With the Pit Mongrels having wandering off still confused by the stink cone, Abel’s wounded body is still bleeding out on the roof.
Abel places the ring that fell from his body into a pocket and hands the pole axe to Nngao.
Looking down the wounds are bad.

#9

“Brave Dra’koon, thank you for standing by my side against those servants of the Quall,” said Abel having trouble focusing due to blood loss, “To the North, across the deserts, past Unen on the coast is the Penninsula of Man. Before i left Dunesphere, I learned from the Inquisitors of a new push to colonize the Goblin Lands in the name of their racist doctrine and their hateful hypocritical leadership. They will need the help of a hero of your capacity, they will need all the help they can get.”

#10

“Earther, I am old, and I do not care about your people, and I do not care about the Olgogs. What I care about is my grandchildren, and you will use your power to tell me where they are. You will tell me where they have been taken. And you will tell me who they were taken by. And you will tell me now, or I will personally feed you to those Pit Mongrels,” said Nngao matter-of-factly, without malice or anger.

#11

“I know you have faced great sadness, Nngao of the K’iorn,” said Abel as more of his ascended awareness returned to him, “I cannot tell you where your grandchildren are right now because they were stolen by a Time Shredder. Their place in time and movement through it prevent you or I from rescuing them. But what I can tell you is that you will one again see the look of delight on your grandchild’s face. If you serve here as guardians of the peaceful Olgogs, those who refuse to give in to the march of war, then you will see your grandchild Volphis once more. You will regain your honor in a way, and be granted the right to train you grandson as a heroic Dra’koon so he may serve as you once did.”

#12

“That is an unacceptable answer Earther. I see we will have to do this the hard way,” said Nngao with annoyance, he extended a single Nnghai blade menacingly towards Abel, “I have four grandchildren: Ara’nia, Ar’tur, Zar’cos and Volphis. I will not be content with just one. I am no slave to be ordered around by you, even if you have stolen a Falosini weapon.
You will give me all my grandchildren, or you will suffer. Do not make me, make you suffer.”

#13

Abel sighed and smiled at the irony, “I’m not ordering you to do anything Nngao. Im just telling you, if you stay here in the lands south of Dunesphere, you will see your grandson again. You will hold him, and love him and train him and he will make you proud. Your granddaughter and your other grandsons will not be yours again, I am so sorry that I must be the one to tell you. They have been taken somewhere you may never go. Forgive me for merely being the messenger of ill news. Forgive me Nngao, and I forgive you for that which you must do.”

At that moment Abel’s body dissolved away into a golden glow leaving the Church of One plate mail and gear in a pile where Abel had been laying.

Moments later his energy form would appear on the mountain overlooking the ruined alien cityscape.
He turned towards Azrael and shared a knowing look.

#14

Nngao looked at the empty suit of armor filled with rage. The news had been worse than he had ever expected. Now his choices were limited, he could wander the Goblin Lands as the Bladed Sun had said before ascending once more. He could instead wander the distant shores hunting down the Bladed Sun for delivering such an offensive pronouncement.
He could even hunt down that Pit Mongrel tribe and wipe them out for serving the Quall as simply a way of assuaging his rage without feeling any guilt. Were he younger and more filled with self-hate this latter option would have appealed to him.
Age came hand and hand with wisdom for Nngao and he accepted that there was little to do, except find another ascended being and force them to help him. And until that happened he might as well travel back north and make things difficult for any Church of One Paladins hoping to restart the Goblin Genocide.
He left the Cursed Ruins behind him and hoped he would not regret sparing the Pit Mongels of Ka Gor.

#15

Azrael watched without emotion as Nngao began his travels.

The ancient Falosini Sovereign didn’t acknowledge the presence of the Bladed Sun who floated a few feet away from the pinnacle of the mountain. The Abel Dragonsbane who ascended as the Bladed Sun had been hand chosed by Lord Azrael himself from countless possible variations based on how history had played out.

Lord Azrael finally turned towards Abel and said, "I regret that I could not rescue you from the Accuser’s imposed slumber. I myself was trapped by the Ancient Evil known as Xephon during the same time. It was I who sent Sirrah of the Lost Colonies to wake you from that cursed poisoned sleep.
We have much business ahead of us, and little time to accomplish it.

Just as you were held captive by the Accuser and I by Xephon, the Ancient Evils the Maw of the Deep and the Creeping Darkness also captured their own Ascended Beings. We will need the aid of these captured ascended beings shortly.

The task of getting them released will fall to us."

#16

“A Noble task certainly Lord Azrael,” replied Abel with actual respect, he had seen Azrael face down armies of alien hordes alone, “Lead the way and I will follow. If you don’t mind me asking, who was taken?”

As they prepared to leave he whispered, “And will the Olgogs survive without us?”

#17

“The Olgogs will survive, they will grow in number and if they are wise they will thrive. They must be directed down here to the south when the time is right, but not before. It will all be decided by how they face the violent zealots of the Church of One,” his hollow voice rang in Abel’s mind, “We may return to help them. We must allow them to decide their own fate or we are no better than the Warmonger.”

Azrael extended with hands and a scythe appeared in it. Its blade was like a sliver of moonlight,and at its base was a throbbing alien heart. Azrael swung the living weapon through the air and it cut through reality itself opening a gateway away from our dimension.

“It is time we leave the Olgogs to find themselves,” said Azrael with a tone of finality.

#18

Abel looked down sadly one last time at the Goblin Lands, hating the legacy of his people on Refuge.
The Bladed Sun stepped through the gateway. He hoped when he returned to Refuge he would not regret his choice.

#19

Azrael stepped through after him, knowing he was leaving Refuge in the capable hands of his Warchief, Zaodonai Celyse Ha’jima and the Akalus Ha’ku.

After Azrael stepped through the gateway, it closed behind them taking them far from Refuge.