The Lord of Undeath is tightening his grip on my mortal soul. Nashe, wielder of The Deathbringer, is an undead monstrosity whom I fear deeply. Once controller of the entirety of Valardia, from his home in the long forgotten Northern Sands, Nashe may have been banished to The Deepest Crypt, but he is still powerful and his resurrection could happen at any moment. I can feel his cold, dead fingers clutching at my spirit, ready to drag me down into the grotesque underworld which he calls home. I find the undead loathsome. The more I reflect on them, the more I come to hate them.
Who am I?
If you are reading this, I hope that means that my rescue is imminent. My name is Dedovor Mailat. I am a renowned divination wizard, explorer, and author, as well as an alumnus of the legendary magic school Solarlight. I was the youngest ever student and graduate at Solarlight. I am a young light elf, with light, blonde hair, and green eyes. I provide this information so that you may identify either me or my corpse. You may recognise me simply as The Observer, or from one of my more famous books, such as Tales from Beneath, or Divination: An Exact Science?
Where am I?
I am currently hidden deep in a cave system, called The Eternal Pit. Armed with only my magic and a copy of my book Tales from Beneath, I am fearing for my life. I have never seen such abominations as I have down here, and I think I am starting to go insane. The horrid aberrations that inhabit these tunnels would terrorise any sane man’s mind. I am hiding in a dark crevice. It has taken me about three weeks’ travel from the entrance to get here. I only move in my sleep, and I only leave my nook to hunt. The things I’ve had to eat down here make me nauseous. I cannot recall the last bowel movement I have had. I know I am slowly dying and there is absolutely nothing I can do: the Eldritch Eye is stalking me.
How did I get here?
In order to fully grasp the situation that I am in, it is first necessary that you understand some of the background of my travels.
The Deepest Crypt
The Deepest Crypt is an intricate tunnel system, consisting of hundreds of layers, underneath the continent of Valardia, constructed by Xoros, the God of Death, out of a substance aptly named Death Rock, which slowly decays any mortal soul within its proximity. As such, most of those in the overworld avoid The Deepest Crypt. It is inhabited by evil undead: grotesque, reanimated corpses. I felt it was my civic duty to map this otherwise largely unexplored area, and publish my findings in my book, Tales from Beneath. I took my life into my own hands, and ventured into the crypt.
The first layer, The Landing Zone, is mostly friendly and safe. It oversees most of the trade and business in the crypt, and sees many visitors. It is well known to those from the overworld, and I thus expedited my leave.
The second layer, Grugrox’s Play Pen, is ruled over by Grugrox the Pestilent, a foetid, rank rat the size of an elephant. In my book, Tales from Beneath, I wrote the following of my encounter with Grugrox himself:
It started subtly. At first all I saw were a couple of small rats skitter past me, and while they stank, this was not particularly unnerving in an underground tunnel. I was in a particularly dark tunnel at this point, holding a torch that barely penetrated the thick blackness. I could tell that it was extremely cavernous here, given the reverberations of my footsteps and the rats’ scurrying. Eventually more and more of them kept coming, until I was ankle deep in a blanket full of them. I was frozen, unsure what to do, and it was at that point that a rat the size of a fox brushed past me. Several more of these larger rats poured into the tunnel, and soon the rats were so bountiful and so loud that I could barely think. My heart was pounding as I was unsure of the next logical course of action. More rats of increasing size kept bursting into the room, trampling the smaller ones underneath them. Grugrox the Pestilent then appeared, and he was clearly the leader; I could tell in the way that the pack parted to let him walk through the tunnel. At once the rats all stopped moving, and an excruciating silence fell upon the cavern, as this giant rat the size of an elephant locomoted towards me. I did not dare move, and I felt it speak to me with what I can only assume was the power of telepathy, for nothing dared to make a single sound. I could barely breathe as it asked me why I had invaded its personal territory. I was too scared to respond, and all of a sudden the jarring, discordant mass of rats moved and sounded all at once. It felt as though the entire cavern was shifting around me, like a giant stomach, ready to push me through its digestive system, dissolve me for my nutrients, and excrete the leftovers. I dropped my torch and I noticed for the first time the reason why in fact I could not breathe: it was not due to my inexplicably intense fear at the situation as I had first supposed, but the wretched stench emanating from the foetid, foul beasts that stood all around me. At that moment all I could think of was how much I despised this rotting mockery of life; the rats that were so malodorous that they stifled my lungs and impeded my logic, so horrid that they suspended all fear I had in favour of panic to remove myself from that tunnel, which had penetrated and tainted my whole being with its blighted denizens and atmosphere of absolute depravity and perversion. I did not notice at that point how the rats had started gnawing at me, climbing up my body, slowly engulfing me in a tower of filth. They had been eating away at me for so long that I lost my left ring finger in the madness, as I repeated the familiar incantation, and magically teleported further down the tunnels, into the third layer of undeath.
The third layer was quieter than I had anticipated, thankfully, which allotted me important time to study fauna such as the Ialisk, Dul’kuz, Pink Reaper, Bibrind, and Mantichne, which became integral research material for Tales from Beneath. Having lost my left ring finger in Grugrox’s Play Pen, I also needed this time to calm my nerves and to recharge with audacious confidence.
What follows is an account from Tales from Beneath, of another discovery I made in the third layer:
I happened to stumble upon a seemingly ancient underground ruin. It was made from refined Death Rock, and it stood impressively tall, nearly reaching the top of the expansive cavern I was in. It had construction unlike any I had ever seen; every piece seemed to be in perfect harmony with each other, almost as if they were willed together by the gods, which made for an inexplicable beauty. Ostensibly I was extremely curious, and so I walked into this old palace. Inside there was no furniture; the walls were bare and formed long twisting hallways that led to empty rooms. Eventually I came upon a large square room in the centre of the building. In the middle of this room was a large stone altar with four glistening longswords on top, all aimed towards the centre of the altar, their tips touching. I slowly made my way over and where the tips met I spotted a small gold ring embedded with a black gem. In my foolishness I had not noticed the four stone statues of kings in the corners of the room, but I did feel as though I was being watched. I knew that what I would do next was undoubtedly ignorant, but my curiosity was too great. I picked up the ring and tried it on. As I slipped it onto my finger, it melted itself into my flesh, causing a searing pain that made me yell, and permanently bonded me to this clearly accursed ring. The statues in the corners all shrieked simultaneously, and my ears wept blood from the horror of these wails. Four shadowy figures escaped from the statues, grabbed the longswords on the altar, and made their way towards me. I was still recoiling from the intense pain of the ring and the alien screeching when I once again cast that reliable incantation, and teleported all the way back to The Landing Zone. I was safe, but at what cost? What had I awakened?
I believe this ring was the genesis of my accursed link with Nashe, Lord of Undeath, who has plagued me ever since, visiting me in my dreams and nightmares alike, attempting to awaken in me an evil which I never knew existed. I fear not the embrace of death, but rather the corruption of life.
Naïve Explorer
Having recently been to feared places such as Khagh Gazzu, the so-called badlands inhabited by orcs and their detested warlord Lorlakk the Butcher, to Blood Drench Keep, residence of vampire counts Valentine, Strix, and Dreven, as well as venturing several layers into The Deepest Crypt, I was a young explorer with a lot to prove and a large chip on my shoulder. I was also honing my writing skills, and my published works were starting to garner more traction - I was on my way up, and could smell success around the corner. Keeping all of this in mind, it is perhaps understandable why I would make as foolish a decision as entering The Eternal Pit.
The Eternal Pit had never been mapped or explored, as many other destinations I had been to, so this left me with little concern. The difference between The Eternal Pit and most of the other areas was, however, that The Eternal Pit was inhabited by those of the underworld; I had a good grasp on the overworld and what the surface of Valardia had to offer, but the eldritch nature of those creatures living underneath us, and the toll that living amongst them would take on my psyche, was something that I had veritably underestimated.
It is important that you understand the difference between the underworld I am referring to in The Eternal Pit and that of The Deepest Crypt. The Deepest Crypt is inhabited, mostly, by undead; undead which are present in the overworld, but are simply more demented in the underworld. The Eternal Pit, however, is inhabited by aliens; these aliens seek to devour your mind, leaving you a desiccated husk of the person you were before.
Arrival
The entrance’s appearance filled me with a deep sense of foreboding, yet my curiosity was too strong; I knew that I was making a mistake, yet had to sate the arrogant child within me. Grey stone opened into a tunnel in the earth, which led downwards into The Eternal Pit. A hellish blackness is ever present in these tunnels, and even the entrance, albeit so close to the outside world, has fallen prey to the dark atmosphere, and it filled me with trepidation. I know now that I should have turned back; I should have gone back to the safety of the overworld, and let sleeping dogs lie. Yet without my arrogance this manuscript would not exist; I carried on anxiously.
The initial tunnels were uninhabited and barren; I found my first few days of travel to be rather uneventful, which soothed my mind, and made me wonder if I was wasting my time. Still in the back of my mind, however, were the frightening tales that had come from this place, the crowning folklore of course being about the Eldritch Eye.
The Eldritch Eye
Within ten days I had encountered it; I had seen this legendary, wretched creature of which I had hitherto only learnt about from folklore. The Eldritch Eye is exactly what it sounds like: a giant, flying eyeball. It is around ten feet in diameter. At the back of the eye hangs rotting, bloody, loose flesh that originated from the eye socket from which it was dislodged. When Nashe, Lord of Undeath’s avatar was slain by my forefathers, and his soul banished to The Deepest Crypt, his eye was gouged out, and brutalised the men who had so bravely fought for their world. The Eldritch Eye was eventually fought back and forced down into The Eternal Pit, where it now resides. It is said to have various magical properties and can, according to legend, vaporise its enemies with a ray of energy that blasts from its eyeball.Â
I can now confirm this legend. The Eldritch Eye is always watching, and does not appreciate visitors; especially those linked by some accursed black magic to Nashe himself. When I first laid my eyes on the alien, I felt my lungs deflate and my throat constrict from such a haunting image. My petrification at this sight was only triumphed when it levelled my gaze, and I surmised that it was not only looking at me but through me, as though accessing all my memories and knowledge; it felt as though in that moment that the eye knew more about me than myself, and what scared me the most was how little I knew about it. I fled as fast as I could and the eye sent its minions after me.
The Drainers
The Drainers are a grotesque subset of subterranean dwellers with the body of a man, the limbs of a lion and a large tentacled head representing something almost squid-like. They have red fur over their bodies (except for the head), and their head is orange. They scurry around on all four limbs and are incredibly fast.
I once saw one of The Drainers hunt. It stalked its prey like a wild cat, but instead of pouncing like one would imagine once it was within a reasonable distance, it began to screech at ear-splitting high pitch that was nearly inaudible. Its target, an Ialisk, could not move due to its proximity to The Drainer, and its head subsequently exploded after a couple more seconds of the screeching. The Drainer then leapt onto the corpse and began to ingest the remains by pulling apart the Ialisk’s flesh inch by inch with its tentacles, before shoving these morsels deep into its face.
The only reason I survived this encounter was due to my teleportation magic. My hands have never shaken so much during the casting of any spell. After a while of playing cat and mouse, I found the dark crevice in which I now reside, crept into it, and successfully hid from the all-seeing Eldritch Eye.
My time is near.
I am the first to admit that I am on death’s door. In reality, no one will ever find me, and I will likely slowly die of malnutrition or, in a desperate escape attempt, have my brain exploded by one of The Drainers, be vaporised by the Eldritch Eye, or be consumed by one of the other twisted abominations that roam this landscape. It is then a distinct possibility that my accursed link with Nashe incarcerates me in a hellish tomb of undeath, doomed to an eternity of serving the evil lord as a disgusting, reanimated corpse.Â
I only hope that finding my body or this manuscript may bring closure to my loved ones.
Father, I would like to thank you for always believing in me and funding my ridiculous excursions to the worst corners of this earth, hopefully for the betterment of our whole civilization.
Mother, you have always been a rock solid pillar of support for me that has never faltered. You always kept me on track and grounded me. You will always have all of my love.
Valardia, I am sorry I have failed you. I can only hope that my explorations and catalogues have helped someone, somewhere. I may die a painful death, but I hope it is not in vain.Â
Dedovor Mailat