As always, the forums get first dibs on my stories, then the wiki.
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Neriglissar
Hafeg Klah
Khreshaal the Traitor
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Cax Kulu sat with a shadow.
Though, he thought,
it's more of a blur than a shadow. An indeterminate blob of darkness floated next to him in an already dark world of basalt and night. He shifted on his basalt chair, waiting for the shadow to speak.
"So," came a noise from the shadow, "You say there is urgent news. Urgent enough to call me. What, pray tell, is so urgent you would drain my currently-weak powers to have me conjure up a form?"
"Ah, well, it's somewhat hard to breach. You know of the isles to the north?"
"Of course."
"Well, to the north of those isles, there is a sea. The Sea of Moonshae, they call it. Our forward scouts call it a quiet place, calm and serene."
"Cut to the chase! I cannot stay forever."
"Yes, of course. Briefly: This Sea of Moonshae is occupied by Atlantians. Not any Atlantians, but renegades. Some offshoot of our Basalt City that broke off after hearing you ascended."
"Many did that. One of these rebel groups was bound to find little enough opposition to set themselves up."
"Of course, my lord. But this group is different. It is large, powerful. And commanded by a Basalt King--Khreshaal, they call him, the Traitor King of Moonshae."
The shadow paused for a moment. The room became noticeably darker and colder than the already dark and cold sea of the Basalt City. "The Traitor King of Moonshae. Very well. He will fall. I shall control all the deeps, and this Traitor King's lands are no exception."
"Ah, my lord, it is worse. Many of the Coral Guard trainees have defected after hearing of this Khreshaal--they owe allegiance to the shallows, not the deeps, and this Khreshaal promises control of the shallow waters. Even the Living Pillars are restless, his spies are numerous and he spreads his word everywhere."
"Cax Kulu." The words were spoken softly, and the Coral Commander strained to hear. "Traitors are not to be allowed. Any man that follows this Khreshaal is to be put to the death. I don't care if the entire city revolts, burn it down. Treason against your god is a great crime, and it carries great punishment. As to this Khreshaal, we shall see what happens to him. We shall see."
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I was at my post, yeah, and me an' the guys were jokin' around. You know how it goes, heh. So, we're on the wall 'round the city, yeah, an' a Basal' Queen comes 'round. An' we think, we think it's weird, since you know them royalty. They don' come out of their palace no way, no how. They just sit there an' stare at that cryssal of theirs an' order us 'in the name of your god'. He ain't our god, huh? But anyways, so this Queen comes around. Says she's inspectin' for troops to conscript for that god's army. Not in those words, o' course. So, we're gettin' inspected. She pulls out a couple guys at random, jus' guys, some good an' some bad, heh, an' Black Taum for whatever reason, he can' hit a Monster Fish right in fronta him, but anyways. So I get picked, right? I'm thinking, I'm thinking what? I'm no soldier! I do this 'cause I get pay an' it's easy. So, we're walkin' along, wondering what this queen just got us into. She falls to her knees, all of a sudden, just falls down an' screams. We rush to help her, o' course, like any group of gentlemen, heh, but she's back on her feet before we get to her, yeah? S, she turns to us. I got a good look at her eyes, an' man, they scared me. Those eyes were differen', tat wasn' the same queen there. So, she looks at us an' she says, "Spread the word. Critias has chosen his prophet, and her name is Hafeg Klah, the Basalt Queen." Stop laughin', I wasn' that far off! But, she tells us that an' runs off all formal-like. Turns out, Miz Hafeg Klah and her poor bastard of a husban', some Neriglissar, are tha' first to sign up to the god's army. No, no, guys. I'm telling the truth. Wha', you don't think I'm tellin' the truth? You should hear Lefty Yuul's stories...
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Inutho tasted the strange thing's drink.
Man, it called itself. The drink was quite tasty--cider, they called it. He wondered for a moment whether it could be made at the Basalt City, before moving on to more pressing matters.
"This is a land of magic," the stranger in the cloak had told him, "a land of the elements. Our gods are the seasons, our prayers hard work. Myrloch Vale has not succumbed to these pretenders before, and will not. We have been ignored, and gone on as we will, most of the time. But, should some foolish god decide to attack us, our defense is our Great Mother who commands the seasons themselves.
"Tell, this to your god, one from the deeps. Tell him to leave us be." He had disappeared afterwards, simply gone without a trace of who he was or how he knew Inutho and the god he served.
Inutho pulled out a shell and began to scribble a letter to Critias.
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Oh my. Another wall of text.