Fifteen pairs of sapphire eyes peered from a nearby, rocky hill towards the purple forest. The first to be sent out by Enura. None of them were happy to be sent out to such an accursed place. Each came with their own slave as well, who were right now setting up the tents and preparing a meal. Tall, three-legged tables holding a bowl with sand were already prepared for the mystics adept in glyphs. Ready to start probing the forest with magics from afar.

“I don’t like this.” Innurta, a large fellow said as he looked out towards the forest with crossed arms. The inky signs on his skin marked him as one of the Queen’s chosen few. A vanguard of magic. Innurta had fought many golems and demon-flowers down in the Labyrinth. Just as he has hauled a great many riches up. Furthermore, he had three of the wisp-spells under his command. Each he had etched on his skin as a mark of pride. “Something’s off.”

“It seems rather unresponsive to magic.” His apprentice, a younger girl named Isseha said. Many would describe Innurta’s eyes as icy, while Isseha’s were bright and beautiful. The girl just hadn’t seen a man splattered across the walls yet. She looked rather disinterested at the woods. They were, after all, just woods.

“It can seemingly mislead. Don’t underestimate the wrath of the gods.” Strange things were happening. The shadowy creature from the Labyrinth had put the veterans on edge. “Send three slaves into the woods. To check it out. Tell them not to go too deep.”

As commanded, three slaves were given sticks to prod things with and send towards the woods. The glyph-mystics were at the ready in case of a runner, but most of Anghebad’s slaves knew that running was futile. At best you were free in an unforgiving and hot world. At worst you were caught made an example of. Still, none of them wanted to head into a wood one of their own had warned them about. For a moment it was a fight between heeding the crazed woman’s words and following their masters’ orders. The threat of imminent, painful punishment won out. The three walked towards the forest’s edge, poking a few plants. Nothing happened. They went in deeper, trying to stay within sight of the Mystics. After an hour of nothing but prodding and poking, they came back. Claiming – much to their own surprise – that it was safe.

Innurta didn’t want to believe it though. Taking his apprentice he went for the woods. Careful to stay at its edge. At first the slave seemed to have been right, until Isseha began to summon fire and unleash it at a nearby shrub. It lit up, but the tree nearby cracked, groaned and its branch reached out. Slapping the apprentice and sending her flying.

“Isseha!” Her master ran over to her. When she landed the wind was literally knocked out of her lungs. No bones were seemingly broken, luckily. But there was a large, gaping wound. The fire burned out, barely harming the shrub. Meanwhile the branch moved back to its original position.

Five minutes later a slave was branded for his failure. Even though Innurta knew it probably wasn’t his fault. The laws had to be followed. Failure had to be punished. Especially failure that resulted in the endangerment of a citizen of Anghebad. Hamurai was very clear on that point. That night though, Innurta removed himself from the rest around the campfire. Heading away from the fire light until there was only the half-moon’s pale light. With eyes still towards the purple forest he pulled several figures from his bag. Each carved from wood. Their quality was lacking, compared with some of the more artisanal craftsmages of Anghebad. Still, they were carved in the shape of the gods of Anghebad. The sun and the moon, the mystical god of magic and even the Night Cat each had an image. When they were placed in a half-circle around him, Innurta kneeled down with his eyes closed.

“Blessed gods. I thank you for the food you’ve given us today. I thank you for the drink that has lessened our thirst. I thank you for watching over Isseha.” He continued on giving praise and thanks for his wife, his children, his queen, his powers. He thanked the gods for everything. And when he was done, he opened his eyes again. With his prayer over, he peered towards the purple wood. He wondered what made it. Fasthus had played dangerous games with that tree of his, but then again the Mystics were playing dangerous games every day. In fact, it felt as if Enura liked it that way. Two of the demon-lilies are floating in her own garden back in Anghebad. Ever since they were pulled out the Labyrinth they hadn’t bloomed, but still. Again he pushed his palms flat against each other and said: “Dear gods… I know I shouldn’t ask for knowledge-“ It was a tenet of Orb himself. “But why… why make this? To punish us? For what? Have we not praised your names.” Even as he spoke the words, he felt arrogant for even asking.

From behind him, he had an incessant meowing. While giving his praise, he noticed that the carving of the night cat had vanished. “What…” A confused, and slightly frightened Innurtha said as he reached and picked up the now normal piece of wood. With his hands he ran over it, trying to see if there was a trace of his hard work. Nothing, there wasn’t a groove left on it. Slowly he got up to see if anyone was around him. And as he turned around he locked eyes with a black cat.

As he stared at it, it began to casually walk towards him, brushing against his leg. The sensation was cold and alien, it most certainly did not feel like any kind of fur. He took a step back away from the creature as he felt the coldness from it.

The entity quickly lurched behind, and he suddenly felt a gust of frigid wind go down his neck. As he turned around the cat was looming over him. Innurtha jumped backwards, as he touched one of the marks on his arm and snapped the fingers on that arm towards the creature. Wind began to swirl horizontally in front of him, creating a sort of tube of whipped up sand that grew smaller and smaller until the tube of wind contracted completely. Sending out a small beam of sand forward towards the giant cat.

The sand launched towards the cat, and seemed to just vanish into the darkness of its fur. It began to speak in a monotone whisper, “I merely came to answer your question.” 


The cat talked. Cats don’t talk. The Mystic’s body was trembling as he fell back with his back to the ground. His arm still outstretched towards the creature. It was the battle-fear. Had to be. Had to be.

The mystic's sight suddenly left him as he was cast into sheer darkness, until specks of lights began to appear in every direction around him, including ones which rested where moments ago it would have been beneath the ground, casting most of the area to light by twilight except a massive tower of the original darkness remained. 

The shadow began to quickly shift until it immediately in front of the mystic, taking the vague outline of a cat’s face. It didn’t appear to have a mouth, but meaning emanated from it, “Did you not have a question for me?” 

Realization dawned upon Innurtha’s face. At first his eyes went wide, before he fell down upon his knees. “Oh Night Cat.” He spoke as if it was a prayer, averting his eyes from the divine projection. “I-I I didn’t mean to…” He wasn’t sure if the God was here to punish or answer his question. In the stories the Night Cat was often indifferent. It hid away secrets, good or bad. The myths rarely spoke of him though. “I beg forgiveness for my arrogance. I should not have called upon you.”

The god image was static, but it replied, “Your prayer is not the reason I take offense to your arrogance.” 

The mystic turned pale. The gods were angry. His heart was beating in his throat. But he remained quiet. Not daring to speak and step out of line.

It continued, “The only thing that the people of Angebad shall find within the woods is a lesson, that no matter however powerful you believe you are, there is also someone to whom you are a speck of dust in a great, empty void, and a cure if someone needs to learn this lesson through losing something important to them. Is there anything unclear about this?” 

“N-No.” The Mystic stammered. “I have understood perfectly.”

The voice continued, “And as I am to understand it, you are hosting one of my faithful in your halls. I suggest you grant her a generous farewell once her task is done, or I might need to make secret the light of which I govern.” 

And when he was finished, the mystic's eyes opened.

[hider=Summary]Innurtha, his apprentice Isseha and thirtheen other Mystics travel to the accursed woods a the command of the queen. They setup camp on a nearby hill and then send out the slaves to probe the forest. Because the slaves were forced to hurt or harm it, the forest did not retaliate. But when the mystics themselves approached it, a branch attacked the apprentice. Throwing her far away. She survives with some bruises, and the forest is deemed dangerous by the mystics.

The failure of the slaves is punished. Innurtha recognizes that it might not all be their fault, but nonetheless doesn’t intervene. He’s a pious man though, and at night goes away from the camp to pray in front of several statuettes he brings with him. He prays and then hears something behind him. The carvings of the Black Cat, Anghebad’s deity of the Night and Secrets, is gone. Leaving only a lump of wood. Instead a black cat appears behind him. The creature reveals itself as the actual deity.

A shocked Innurtha struggles back, launching spells at the cat. It does nothing. Instead it answers the questions the Mystic asked. Anghebad, no matter how arrogant it believes itself, is still just a speck of dust in the eyes of a god. They will release the Augur with them peacefully. Then he vanishes again.[/hider]

[hider=MP & DP]
None expended
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[hider=Prestige]
[b]Post Length:[/b] 8.4K Characters
+4 Prestige >> Mystics
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