The Darkness Below
"Civilization has an odd quirk, everything tends to build on the bones of those before us. The older the city, the deeper those bones are buried. Rarely do we find that something was built first. But, when we find it, it fills the mind with far more questions than answers. In this case... I don't have anything to add, what our home is built on... it fills me with... Well, I don't know what to call it." -The Lead Archeologist for the State of Galus, Fransoiu Lameoux.
Historical Account
In the Year following the attack on the Goblin Clan at the beginning of the New Calphiti War, 1232, the King Lucas Berthelot ordered an expansion of the City's stores, which demanded the need for a stable environment. The City began digging below the streets of Glaion to ensure new, safer, storage locations for ammunition, food, medicine and shelter for the Military and Civilians of the Capitol City.
Only, when the crews began unearthing strange artifacts in the ashy stone below the city, the King ordered crews of Archeologists to assist the crews to preserve the history of the city. These artifacts remained absolute mysteries to all involved, ancient weapons that resembled modern day firearms. Immensely intricate rune structures that baffle even The Forgemaster, You Khamere and the Wayfare Guild, plastered on nearly every artifact. Strange pieces of jewelry that had been decided were religious iconography, but resembling nothing in history. Scrapes of information found on preserved parchments and vellum, in language not seen before, but sharing many similarities to nearly ever language on the planet.
It was when the crews unearthed a massive chamber somewhere below the market square of the city when the digging crews refused to continue...
Journal of the King:
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Fransoiu came to me with his hat being wrung through hands, nervous. I'd like to say I was surprised to see him, Afterall he had just interrupted a meeting with my Generals. But, the day prior he had sent me a letter explaining that all sixty crews working on the expansion project had refused to continue until safety conditions improved. I had thought at the time that the workers were merely encountering unstable tunnels, or stale air as had been the case before in other projects. I tasked Fransoiu to deal with the issue in anyway he saw fit, the project needed to continue.
When he approached, his face was white, like he had seen a ghost. Asking him what was wrong only led to a lengthy explanation that did not line up with the letter he had sent me before. He was rambling, confused, distraught. My General slapped him across the face to bring him back to his senses, apparently far more tired of this conversation that I was. Either way, it seemed to have done the trick. Beginning to tell us that they opened some sort of chamber that seemed to just keep going, deeper, wider.
His story made the rest of the Generals sit back down as I listened to the man explain that his crew of Archeologists had descended into the the chamber and found a solid floor. Only his eyes seemed to go distant as he told us of the countless corpses littering the space. It reminded me of first expedition into Skjalich. Temple of the Fallen is what General Baptiste had called it, with a very similar description of the Necropolis found within that ruin. Only, I wasn't expecting for him to tell me that his crew swore that the darkness moved down in the chamber.
Oh it would be dispelled with lantern light the same as any darkness, but it would move when there was no light. Push back on the lanterns, playing tricks on their minds. He also told us that there were no human corpses down there, the bones ancient, dusty and covered in runes. He made no allusion that someone had done that to their bodies, that they had grown that way. His description made me wonder about utilizing that Clan. Short, long tailed humanoids that seemed to have more bones in their throat than should have been. A few having been mummified down there, massive ears, no hair to speak of save for the scraps that remained on their heads. Skin like the night sky, not black, but even in death their skin seemed to move with specks of light.
I raised a hand for him to stop, asking him only a few more questions. He told me that there was a staircase that led deeper. That the place seemed like the top of building, as the rock surrounding the chamber was the usual ashy stone found in the region. The air seemed to be perfectly breathable, despite having been entombed for gods knew how long. I told them all, I would be seeing this find myself, and to prepare a party to join me.
We stood at the entrance to the chamber, lanterns held high, despite the innumerable spheres of light the Caster we brought with had conjured. The riflemen went down first to secure the area, I didn't like this. The moment we first arrived at the excavation site, the atmosphere was wrong. Something felt wrong, I didn't trust that there wasn't something down there. A Runewright, we borrowed from The Forgemaster joined us, I'd need someone to try and interpret anything we found. The Caster was a seasoned soldier of mine, having served in my armies for decades. It took some convincing, by I had him trained by both the Druids of The Dwarven clan Rhojic, as well as the Wayfares. He would be knowledgeable of nearly anything arcane down there.
I also demanded a Priest of Xelex to accompany us, those book seekers would stop at nothing to gain more information. He would at least be away of any Iconography we'd happen to stumble upon. I checked the rounds in my revolver, and unsheathed the saber at my side ensure it would release without any issue. Grabbing hold of the rope ladder that descended into the darkness, I went.
Fransoiu was not giving this place enough credit... My skin crawled the moment I touched that darkness, the murk seeming to cling to me. I was never a particularly religious man, but even I said a prayer when my feet touched the floor. Bodies, all reaching for windows, doors, anything they could have tried to flee from. Piles of ash coming in from every entrance. I couldn't have agreed until I saw the tomb with my own eyes, indeed the top of a building, one that was once open to the air. This wasn't carved from the stone, the stone formed around it. The unease I felt, I couldn't have placed it, something this ancient shouldn't exist. Yet, it did.
Holding my lantern higher did nothing sooth my nerves as the darkness did indeed move oddly. Less like an absence of light more like something else residing in the same space as light. I could hear the riflemen securing the area, yet I couldn't see their lanterns, like this darkness didn't want me to see anything beyond my own light. Careful not to disturb any of the bones, I made my way toward the sound of my men. Each one I passed only solidified my intense desire to leave, this place was wrong. There were indeed runes on their bones, but it didn't seem like part of their actual mass, like it was a pattern in the grain.
A few of the more preserved ones still seemed surprisingly lively, the light dancing around making it seem like they were still moving. Only a panicked and hurried second glance told me otherwise, their skin really did seem like the night sky like Fransoiu had said. I noticed as I got closer to the sound that the darkness seemed to have lifted, like it was done watching me, deciding. The room now suddenly filled with lights from dozens of Wisp Lights from my Caster, and dozens more lanterns, all congregating around the staircase going deeper.
I asked what the hold up was, but received my answer. There was a corpse standing in the stairway, tail wrapped around a handrail stabilizing itself from toppling over. One of the mummified ones, though its lifeless eyes peered directly up at our group, unmoving. It was disturbing like a goblin, ears flared out the way they were. A scroll clutched in its hand. The strange draping clothing it wore reminded me of that dress Ilgor of the Skullbrood Clan wore. All of this seemed like there was something more. I wondered then, those creatures had been here outside the city for as long as anyone, any local history could remember. And now? We find this place full of things that looked like them.
Pushing past the group I walked up to the corpse, and knelt down to look it in the eyes. It was only about a yard tall after all. And promptly jumped out of my skin when it's eyes darted straight into mine. "Wythri Asto Rythia, Vilorlith." Its voice rang out in the halls as I noticed the small hole in its clothing where its heart should have been. What killed it, I assumed as my heart raced and adrenaline filled my veins. It promptly crumbled to dust after it spoke, I shivered involuntarily as the darkness came crashing down around us, focusing on the corpse that spoke.
Reaching down while the darkness was preoccupied in it's examination, I unrolled the scroll to see a map with an all too familiar coastline, only nothing else was the same. A map of the Galaician Peninsula.
Entry for Spooktober 2025
Answering: "Barrow"
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