They rode on the edge of the desert of K’num, with more men and more horses than they had days ago. Their leader was at the frontmost point, pressing his corrupted steed to move faster and faster. There was something wrong with the animal however - apart from the very obvious, terrible sludge seeping from its orifices, as well as the gaping wound along its neck - it was stumbling every now and again. The man riding it seemed to look quite irritated, gritting his teeth, hitting the horse’s neck repeatedly. It gave. It messed a step, fell forward, and tumbled on the sands, sending the leader rolling as well. He arose quickly, stepping towards the struggling horse. He yelled, kicking its side, and then drew his serrated blade. He swiped and stabbed at the horse several times, causing more and more of the fetid blood to pour out on the scorching desert sand, along with the creeping, crawling things that inhabited it. They shriveled up as they touched the ground, averse towards the heat. The leader’s inverted pupils twitched as he looked down at the horse, something in his throat making a clicking noise. Suddenly, he built up an angry, terrible yell, that surrounded the expanse around the corrupted party. He turned to one of his men, who’d all stopped as his horse gave out. He pointed at the closest one’s horse and yelled, “GIVE ME YOURS.” Almost immediately, the man dismounted his horse and left it for the leader to use. The corrupted man deigned to ride backside with someone else, as the leader saddled up and called out, “MOVE.” The party resumed their journey through the desert’s outskirts, on the way to… somewhere, for no pleasant reason. Anyone who could see the dozens-strong band would probably do well to avoid them. They left the fallen horse stretched out on the sand. It still twitched occasionally, steam rising from the corrupted black blood as it and its inhabitants shriveled up, one by one, and died. [hr] [h1][color=slategray]Nahargu’ul[/color][/h1] [b]Somewhere out in the waters[/b] Hagers. Hagers. Hagers. Nahargu’ul couldn’t get it out of his mind. Hagers. After all this time, he thought the damned place would have eroded into obscurity. He had no eyes on the mainland proper, just the waters at the coasts. The Silence caused this - the Gatekeeper punished the Pantheon for the Cataclysm by seeding another one? The bastard. Five centuries to freely fester, grow, and corrupt. Hagers. The name played in his thoughts over and over again as he sat on the bedrock of the ocean, doing nothing worthwhile with his time - like always. His intention was to come back and breath awe, fear, and servitude into seafarers once again. But now, he was so clouded by the thought of this one past mistake blowing up in such a manner that… He wondered how well he could keep the truth from his siblings, obviously besides Del Sombra, the omniscient [i]cur[/i]. Hagers’ downfall was Nahargu’ul’s unintentiomal doing, but the story behind it all - a mistake. Worse yet, an [i]embarrassment[/i]. [i]Hagers.[/i] Could Vorris handle this task on his own? He had no idea what the destination possessed in terms of forces on the land. It could be any number, with all the time it’s had to spread. Maybe it would be a proper idea to request assistance from the other gods, have them send their own champions to assist the Mariner and- “Oh, Nahargu’ul, God of Vast Waters…” The Sea-Fiend’s head perked up as he heard the words spoken to him. He looked skyward, towards the water’s surface - an angel stood on a raft of light, staring down into the deep, calling for the attention of the god that lies below. And Nahargu’ul’s immediate thought was - damn it, they’d found him out already. The thought after that - no, no, this is unrelated. What was going on? “Yes, messenger?” The waters replied to the angel. “Good lord of the seas, the Everqueen beckons you and yours for an audience within the Sweetwater River delta.” “For what reason?” “There is a demonic blight wrought upon the land, by the hands of what is believed to be a demon lord. A remnant of the Cataclysm. He and his have corrupted the land, and the Everqueen is seeing to the rectification of the matter.” “This is a matter for the [i]mainland[/i], messenger. The waters, they… hmm…” There was a moment of pause. The angel asked of the god, “Yes?” “Perhaps… I am being too dismissive… yes, yes, tell Kalla I will answer her summons.” “Yes, Nahargu’ul. I thank you for your answer to the Everqueen’s request.” “Hmmm…” As the angel departed, Nahargu’ul paused for thought again. Evidently, Hagers was not the only problem the mainland was suffering from - why would it be? Perhaps, this meeting would provide him with the assistance he desires. Although, it seemed safer to say Kalla would hold the demonblight in much higher alert. But Hagers was on a track to pollute [i]all[/i] the waters of the world - something had to be done. The least he could do was ask. He made for Sweetwater immediately. [hr] [h3][color=darkorchid]Isabella[/color][/h3] [b]Southern Erathel, in a roadside settlement[/b] Yigzavath had sent Isabella to begin seeding the rebirth of the Acolytes, and the seeding was going well. She’d taken a worm-brained horse out into the field, and rode through two settlements, now on her third. She knew the locations of a good few villages, not exactly [i]wallowing[/i] in filth and illness, but good enough to form a skeleton crew within the course of a few days. Isabella came as a pale woman bearing a cure-all for those with sickly spirits, and for that she was beginning to be lauded. The Healers Guild heard none of this yet, and it might be an issue when they do. But that was a matter for later. As she offered the placebo worm to a disheveled man seated against the wall of the dirtied establishment, she heard talk from the other passersby. “Demons?” “Yes, demons! Samuel’s gone and seen them out on his routes! They’s comin’, and we’s all dead when they get here!” “Well, bloody - we go with Guillard then. He was talkin’ with that girl in the purple, looked awfully chipper. And his leg looked a good lot better from his marrow sickle.” “Marrow sickle, that’s goin’ around. Gettin’ out of town seems like a damn good idea, it does.” People were eager to leave, it seemed. Maybe that would make things easier for Isabella. She had to wonder, though - about the demons. She had not personally encountered them, but she had heard plenty of talk. They never attacked Pecher’s Valley when it was still inhabited. Why? She couldn’t make up a reason. Didn’t matter though, whole place was burned down into the darkness of the miles-long crack it was built in. She did her best to stop thinking about it. Demons… they could be a problem as well. But if she took her time, did things subtly, and quickly, then she could simply lie low in the Infested Workshop alongside Yigzavath. Wait for the right time to strike at wherever needed striking first. For now, however, she had people to ‘cure’. And then she had to get the hell out of here. Demons or no, she had a schedule to keep.