Prologue
She stood at the mouth of the cave, chest heaving from the exertion of her uphill battle. Her silver eyes sadly surveyed the destruction below her as she realized the worst was truly yet to come...
Somehow, an 'evil' had infected this Holy ground and it was drawing all too close to the Cavern of Ancients... To the very Womb of the Great Mother, herself, and Ashanti could NOT allow that. Even if it cost her life, the warrior priestess would stop this evil... This once man named Vhal-drador. Yet, in all her life, nothing had come close to preparing her for the destruction left in this 'man's' wake.
Ashanti mentally checked herself, her equipment and her list of spells. Making sure that all was in order before stepping across the threshold of the Cavern of Ancients. A quickly muttered chant to provide her with an area of safety created a lightly shimmering sphere around her. With the knowledge that she was prepared as much as she could be for the task that now lay ahead, Ashanti steeled her will and began to move forward.
With sword at the ready, Ashanti began to slowly creep through the cave that led to the deep cavern of this Holy place. All the while keeping a wary eye on her magickal sword. Waiting for its familiar pulse of light to show the tell tale signs that evil was near. The closer and more prevalent the being, the stronger the pulse of light would become.
Ashanti moved forward, stretching her senses before her, sensing out each loose rock and every crevice, searching them well for anything... Any sign of survivors... Any hint of movement... Anything she needed to be ready for. Deliberately, she moved slowly, allowing her mental probes to stretch around her to their very limits. Filtering them out like a net. A special skill that she seemed to have a natural talent for. A psionic of high caliber, trained specially by the priests and priestesses of the Great Mother to fight JUST such an evil.
Three quarters into the cavern, something brushed against the edge of her 'net'. Something that brought a chill so deep to Ashanti's soul, that it caused her skin to rise in gooseflesh. It was a sensation that Ashanti did not wish to savor... Nor would she have wished it upon her worst enemy. It was the sensation of a cold, brutal intelligence combined with the most cruel aspects of a bestial nature. It was evil at its blackest. Ad it was filled with the absolute hatred for any thing that represented the Great Mother... More specifically THIS VERY SITE...
Without so much as a second thought, Ashanti centered all her probes into one telepathic line. She NEEDED to know why there was such an overwhelming hatred towards the Great Mother. In an instant she had learned all she needed to about the evil being she now prepared to face. And what she learned staggered her.
Once, over seventy five years ago, Vhal-drador was a much loved priest of the Earth Mother. So loved was he that he was made leader of this very sect of priests and priestesses. For nearly a quarter of a century, peace was the way of life here in the Cavern of Ancients. Then a thirst had come to Vhal-drador. A thirst for that which corrupts those that seek it as a possession...
Power...
This thirst for power led Vhal-drador down dark, spiraling corridors that would soon call another darker entity. On a foggy night, thick with the lifeblood of the Great Mother, he came with strong silent strides of pure dark intentions. Long jet black hair pulled tightly back against his scalp, eyes blazing red with the preternatural and an unnatural air resonating from even this memory of him.
That is where she pulled back... Where Ashanti slammed back her probes for fear of being discovered by Vhal-drador. she needed the time to ready herself. Ready herself for someone... NO! Something that KNEW her ways, BUT not who she was. She was Ashanti Whitemantle, chosen of the Great Mother. A warrior-priestess born with a unique attachment to the Earth. Trained in weapons, spellcraft and other forms of combat.
Searching her mind, Ashanti began a defensive spell, pulling energy from the very earth around her, adding it to her spell she had cast earlier, making a more protective field. A globe of protection that would, hopefully, absorb some of the foul being's poisonous touch and deflect some of his more dangerous abilities. With another thought, as well as the recollection that her prior battle was with undead beings, Ashanti cast a little known spell to obscure her physical form from the sight of undead creatures, rendering herself invisible to them.
All this done, she began to move forward once again. Keeping an eye on her sword, Ashanti noticed that her sword was not just pulsing, but throbbing. Each pulse of light sent a terrible beat through the hilt of her sword. somehow during her preparations, Vhal-drador had moved closer without making so much as the slightest sound.
"I know you're there, Priestess," Vhal-drador hissed. "Have you also come to try and stop me as your Brothers and Sisters did? Pity. To think your Goddess would send so many of her loyal followers to their deaths at the hands of a dark God such as I."
"You see," Ashanti replied. "There is your folly monster. You are nothing more than a once-man THING now." Trying to muster all of her bravery, she continued her taunt, "But you do have the right of it. I am here to end your existence here on Shalisterra!!!"
"Wretched whore!" The creature cried out in anger at the thought of this impertinent young wench's words.
The darkness in the Cavern of Ancients, seemed to explode before Ashanti as the undead creature's anger caused his eyes to burn red with the hatred that filled his soul. Drawing up his hands, Ashanti watched as his, already long, fingernails crew into, what seemed to be impossibly long, talons.
Dropping all pretenses, Ashanti launched into an attack. With a vicious downward slash, she moved toward the undead beast that once led this group of worshippers here many years ago. Vhal-drador sidestepped the blow with a speed born of his preternatural condition and in the next instant was gouging an ugly slash of his own through Ashanti's defenses glancing off chainmail shirt, causing Ashanti to stumble back in shock at this once-man's strength.
The undead creature threw blow after blow with his taloned hands, only drawing blood once threw their battle. Ashanti's spells making it next to impossible for the once-living Priest to do more than shove her around, bludgeoning her instead of rending her to pieces, as Vhal-drador and his army had done the other Priests and Priestesses. Which only sufficed to drive the beast's anger to newer heights.
Ashanti too advantage of this build up by slicing, in a deep arc, across Vhal-drador's chest. Black ichor sprayed the walls and floor of the Cavern. A foul smell began to rise, bringing with it the taste of bile to the back of her throat.
Choking back the rising vomit, Ashanti pressed her newfound advantage. "Beasts who appear to be human are still nothing more than beasts," she began. "And a former Priest of the Great Mother, who succumbs to the lust for power, is little more than a beast." She bated the once-priest of her own faith with her emotions as well as her words. Pushing with all her mind, Vhal-drador's failure of the very thing he once swore to protect with his own life. The one thing every priest and priestess of the Great Mother swears to protect. ALL LIFE...
"What's the matter 'Priest'?" Ashanti taunted. "Have you forgotten what it is to see the Goddess? Have you forgotten what it is to even see the sun? or feel its warmth on your skin?"
It was just a flinch, but Ashanti saw it. Felt it. And she knew now what she was up against. Not a simple undead like the ghouls she had faced, but a major undead creature. Spawn of an unholy alliance between mortal and daemon.
Vhal-drador was a VAMPIRE.
There was just one problem with that, she knew he had cast the lich spell, from her time in his mind. So then the question becomes... Where is the lich? ONe has to die to become a vampire... But one must also die to become a lich??
All of this flashed through Ashanti's mind as she brought her sword up in a deadly slash that lodged her sword in the vampire's chest. Vhal-drador screamed. It was a long, loud cry of agony that caused Ashanti's skin to once more take on that gooseflesh look.
Vapor rose from Vhal-drador's body and he began to dissipate.
"This may be a bit cliche, Priestess, but I WILL return..." with that said, Vhal-drador's body became a glowing mist that headed back towards the mouth of the Cavern of Ancients.
Energy began to well up from the ground, up through Ashanti and out through Ashanti's sword. A bright flash of light at the mouth of the Cavern told her she had hit her mark. The scream, both physical and mental, confirmed what her eyes had told her.
*Not in this form,* Ashanti thought. *Not in this form.*
Tired, battered, bruised and bloody, Ashanti began to make her way to the entrance of the Cavern of Ancients, assessing the damage and checking for signs of life, which she gratefully and astonishingly found. It seemed to her that Vhal-drador was more interested in polluting the Womb of the Great Mother, turning it into a place of darkness and decay, rather than kill everything in site.
"We must clean and re-sanctify this place," Ashanti wearily instructed a couple of the survivors. "We must set this place right."
Weeks passed and Ashanti healed. It was time to move on to the next challenge... Bidding her surviving Brothers and Sisters farewell, Ashanti made her way toward the mouth of the Cavern one last time.
A mere yard from the mouth, Ashanti was met by a woman with skin of the finest marble, gown of the whitest sand, eyes of purest jade and hair of lush green growing things.
It could only be an Avatar of the Great Mother.
"Ashanti, my daughter," the Avatar began. "Your quest does not end here. You must seek out the Monster King. You will find him in the valley of his kingdom near the Wylds."
Ashanti, at first blinked as if trying to take it all in, and then acknowledged her continuation with a brisk nod of her snowy white hair. this new knowledge burned within her heart.
As Ashanti tossed this knowledge around in her mind, mulling over the Avatar's riddle... Monster King? Valley of his kingdom? Near the Wylds?... The woman of sand and stone began to crumble to dust, leaving with a whisper of words in her wake.
"Remember... All who wear the form of evil are not always evil themselves... And those who wear the face of good are not always so..."
End of Prologue...
Written By: Belfazaar Ashantison