M'yth'ryn
(a.k.a. The Rot Walker, The Water Hag)
The Myth:
In Ithrica there are tales of a creature that wanders the swamps just before one enters the Northern Wastes . A cold myre, a harbor with no shore, a treacherous and convoluted place to find oneself lost in. Should any traveler be found alone here, off the beaten path, take heed.
You were foolish to do so. You were told, you were given signs, you were given every tool available to avoid this fate. You survive should you listen closely to the next words. Do not follow the lights in the swamp. Do not follow its voice, do not listen to its promises of warm fires and dry ground. Do not follow lost voices, do not walk through water you can't see the bottom of. Do not walk through any fog, no matter how long you must wait. Find the path again, and return home. Maybe you will survive, maybe you will become another voice in the swamp.
Fool you are, the tale of Ith'ly Lurker is but the same beast. The only fog one should trust is those in the Valley of Mists and even then should those Creatures allow you through the lands, beware the Water hag and all her guile.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
The man snatched the sack of money from the Lawman, the sweat still beading on his greasy forehead. The The Sightless hunter took his time making him uncomfortable counting out the money before answering his long-suffering plea. "Fine, I'll take the job. Run the last details by me again, I want to make sure you weren't just drunk at the time."
***
He felt just barely comfortable taking off the helmet of his Rebreather, having spent a painstaking amount of time setting up the wards and air filters around his camp. The Miasma visible to his eyes, swirling around the rings he had set up, his protections doing their job. He relaxed enough to actually enjoy the sunset dripping low over the western mountains, swamp to his back.
He would have liked to take the rest of the armor off, and spread his wings at least a little. But, he knew conditions in the Shattered Lands changed far too much. Beyond that, he was not like Odeza, his wings were not second generation, they still rang with Syn's unadulterated power. The Shadows would notice him far too quickly for him to be able to react, no. Best to leave the armor on.
"Speak of the devil." He spoke as the static coming from his visor was more than audible in his ears. It rang lightly with a chiming sound as the comms connection was made.
Odeza's sweet voice filled his ears, she always had a bouncy tone to her even when it was an official report like this. "Rider: Ymth, how are you?"
He smiled, she was always a pleasant surprise. He still remembered Anlyth and his wife when she was born, overjoyed was an understatement. "Yes, Scout: Realm, Reporting."
"A sightless hunter had taken a contract for a monster hunting in the swamps you currently are in the area for." She said, but it sounded like she was leaving something out. Calling her on it, she continued. "This creature we have reason to believe to be one of The Vestiges. We don't know who, we don't have any records of what it might be capable of, or what tool it was made into."
"They." Ymth said flatly.
"I don't follow." She said cautiously.
"Not an it, they. They are possibly one of our fallen brethern. They are not monsters, they never were, never will be. They are still one of us, a Child of The Quartet. You will treat them with the same respect as you would any of us in the Elsewhere." He knew Odeza outranked him by a large margin, additionally being the Daughter of The Arch Valkyre, he knew he needed to remind her that the Vestiges were our people.
There was a very long pause as he assumed the Command Center that always listened in was making a few decisions, the Queen probably adding her piece in there as well. "I'm sorry Elder. I didn't mean to upset you, I know. I know they aren't monsters."
"Thank you, Odeza." The tension he was holding in his clenched jaw at the issue suddenly disappeared, he hadn't realized he had been holding onto it. "Is there any more information I'll need before beginning this hunt tonight?"
"The locals are calling it a Water Hag. Apparently has been hanging around for a few generations before anyone wanted to do anything about it beyond foolish heroics. If this is a vestige, I pray they found their ends quickly."
"I remeber hearing this myth for a while now, mostly lies and conjecture. I've followed up with this before, but never found evidence of it, where were they last seen?" He asked, putting his rebreater back on before he disabled the wards and spells keeping the Miasma away.
"Ithrica. Just to the north of there, about thirty klicks." The comms went silent as the Rider checked his hosters. A quiet prayer to the fallen he was about to meet, he hoped it was an actual monster and not one of his brethren.
***
The fog was dense in the cool morning, the lights from the settlement barely even visible on the horizon. Warnings flashed in his visor for the various threats in the area, oxygen sensors pulsing, measurements of ambient energy, and magical potential. Mostly background noise to him as he plodded through the murky water, he was only concerned if a few warnings or IDs popped off.
He was told that a few girls went missing, they only reason Ithrica's lawman cared was because on of them was his. The Sightless hunter found them alright, scared out of their minds. The description he got out of the girls was enough to confirm it wasn't undead, or something spawned from the shadows. Didn't rule out a few other things though. Boots finding a spot of dry land, he hoisted himself up and out of the water.
Raising a hand, he breathed life into a series of small fires in his palm. Mimicking the Wil'o'wisps in the gloom, humming a softer magic he sent them out. Pushing his way through the thick grass and small trees he found himself on the main road. Eyes played tricks on him as he thought things slinked through the grass on the edges of his vision.
He knew better, there was nothing here remotely threatening to him. The air still felt oppressive though, a quiet anticipation yet to be realized. Looking around as he went for any evidence of anything having walked through here, they had told the nearest settlements around the swamp to close down the roads while the hunters were here. Any trace at all. Anything.
It was hours later before his wisps came back to him, pouring information into his visor. Odd bits of audio, there were apparently lost voices in the swamp. Disembodied and echoing out from no specific source, odd. Other paths from various natural animals, strange dark creatures he hadn't seen before. He flicked to the next wisp and was shown an odd scene that it had lingered at for seemingly the entire time.
A dead tree in the middle of the water, half submerged. Swamp bubbles slowly churing the water around it, he didn't understand what the wisp had seen here. He dismissed them all, going out in a flash of light. He disabled the noise cancellation of his visor, and listened to the noises of the swamp while a new bank of fog rolled over his spot.
"Ymth..." The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His pistol was drawn before he had even gotten on his feet, the area was devoid anything. Nothing registering on his warnings. It dawned on him then in a few quick moments. Nothing was registering on his visor. Nothing. He thought back to the dead log for but a moment, still wondering why the wisp stayed there for so long.
"It's warm here, Ymth..." Slowly creeping his way into the middle of the road, staying away from the tall grass. That tree in the water was dry. The dead tree was dry. The bubbles around the tree weren't from the swamp, it was boiling.
"It has been a long time since I've seen a vestige from the War. It's been longer since I've been able to walk the lands of the world that was to be ours. Please dear sister, show yourself." He said, a sad dawning of reality on his face.
Fire, heat, this fog. The fog was coming from this 'Water Hag' because it was something unnaturally warm. He knew in his mind, he didn't need to confirm. His visor popped back into life as several warnings flashed on his face. But, one caught his attention. ID: Legion of Syn: M'yth'ryn. He bit back a bitter sob, hand tightening around the pistol grip.
"Ymth... come... it's warm here."
Fire burned from the vents in his gloves, flames licked out of the special pouch that hid his wings, his eyes glowed like a set of second suns as tears ran down his face. "What did that Shadows do to you?" He said, raising a palm and incinerating the fog and every last blade of grass within a mile of him. The ground steamed, the waters around him came rushing in as the evaporated swamp tried to refill itself.
But, he only had eyes for the woman standing a surprisingly close distance from him. He clenched his teeth until they hurt, she was a mockery of what she should have been. Her wings were colorless, dragging on the ground. Her once brilliant red hair, he knew it was once, he remembered her having it, now pale and overgrown. What sickened him the most was to see her frame emaciated and covered in sores.
She lunged at him, mouth full of serrated teeth aiming for his neck. A quick motion to the side, knocked her to the side, sending her tumbling. He was suddenly back under a brightly lit sky, listening to Syn talk to him and M'yth'ryn about life in general. A happier time before the Shadows were even a thought in the mind. She smiled at him, as she held his hand, their goddess enjoying the moment with them.
She rose again, faster now, it has been some time since one of the Changed had to fight one of the Children. They seemed to have forgotten what a challenge it was going to be. Her fingertips shrouded in illusion suddenly disappeared to reveal the broken tibias she employed as necrotic weapons. Slash, jab, slash, each one missing as Ymth sidestepped, parried, and blocked. Not letting anything breach his skin.
Despite the crazed look in her eyes, there was something. Not quite there, not quite remembrance, but recognition. He knew as well as all the Children did, their minds were still there, just warped and deformed. Another memory flashed through his mind as he lifted her white veil over her face. The crowd from both their families cheered as they made their vows. Syn smiled down at them as she officiated the ceremony, gracing them with a brilliant flame of life and it's boundless optimism.
She roared an eardrum-shattering noise that didn't even phase him. "Ryn, do you remember me?" He said softly. She was mid-strike and faltered. Warnings popped up in his visor, Miasma, Shadow. He ignored them, as he lunged forward and grabbed her.
His system had put out an automated distress call. A signal that was never ignored, one that always came with an extraction. Three of the other Riders were immediately teleported to Ymth's position by Odeza and another God's Eye's. The scene they found themselves had few words to describe. The swamp barely having returned from him burning it away, the ashy waters churning around them.
"Ymth, why do you..." One of them started, Ymth had removed his helmet for the rebreather. The black poison of the Miasma filled his veins as he stared down at his wife whose eyes finally recognized him for who he was.
"I can't do it again, I won't. You can either cure us, or you can kill us." Ymth said, holding his wife's arms to her sides. While he knew she recognized him, he knew that whatever the Shadows did to their minds would force her to attack him anyway.
"There is a third option." An all too familiar voice spoke in their comms.
It all moved quickly, the three riders grabbed Ymth as he put the pistol to his head. There was a shot, a smokey hazy filled the clearing. She lay there a hole slowly bleeding from her chest, Ymth was unconscious. The Riders made another extraction call, and they were suddenly inside the Elsewhere once more.
***
"How long are you going to keep in this quarantine. You should have just killed me there, I'm infected now. Now we've shown them where he was hiding. What were you thinking?" He yammered on at Queen, showing absolutely no respect for the goddess as he passed back and forth.
"We do not know that yet." She said calmly.
"Then why? What is the point to all this? Why not just give me what I want?!"
"She's alive." She said, somehow calmer than before.
"What? What do you mean, I saw her. She was bleeding out." He seethed back at her.
"Do you really think a Fallen would die to a single gunshot? No, I had your brothers shoot her with a tracer so that we can find her later."
"Why? Why bother with that, shes..." He started.
"So that when we have a cure, we can cure you both."
Divine Classification
Current Status
MIA
Current Location
Conditions
Ethnicity
Other Ethnicities/Cultures
Age
???
Date of Birth
???
Date of Death
???
Circumstances of Birth
Taken during the battle of the Citadel during VIlorlith's Final stand
Children
Sex
Female
Eyes
Pale yellow that glow softly in any amount of light
Hair
Long enough to drag along the ground in tangled clumps, hair has lost all color.
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Rotten bone tight skin, dark grey with open sores arcing along the shoulders. Torn Faerie wings that have lost all color.
Height
6"1'
Weight
???
Excellent little story. Some sadness, but a glimmer of hope?
"It's like reading TvTropes" -- Kroww
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I'm planning something big with that hope, a hope that has broad reaching effects. I'm glad you like the short story!