Lore/Story Lexdale: Ancient Darkness

Happy Hallowynn once again! A while ago, a wrote this up, and I originally scrapped it, because I thought it was too lengthy, and really undescriptive and bad. However, I just decided to release it anyway, because I spent a lot of time on it anyway. Here you go.

(Disclaimer: This may not be accurate, but i don't know because Eye of the Storm is a really long and annoying quest.)

Legend in Lexdale spoke of a Mage who emerged long ago. He fought off the Order of the Abyss, a cultist group that haunted the town with his legendary wand, cutting down hordes of the magicians with a single spell. Their shots and strikes glanced harmlessly against his magical armor. Meteors streaked across the sky. Snakes of ice slithered onto targets and froze them solid in place. He fought for hours, until, at last, the last Cultists laid slain at his feet. The legend of his heroic battle would last for eternity along the people.... but the temporary peace he brought would not.
For not all of the cultists had died. The last handful of magicians fled to their masters' lair, deep underground. With a single dark incantation, their master sprung to life, a horrible darkness demon known as Naragath. Its skin was black, with long, dark wings sprouting from under its head. Grown from its fingers were dark talons, coated with blood from all species that it had slain. Its eyes glowed bloodred with hate and fury.
"O, master, accept my offering," the lead cultist spoke. From his palm he produced a bloodred jewel - the Eye of Blood. A firey aura eminated from the gem, and in the center, an eye glared at them with a demonic hatred. Naragath laughed and cackled as the cultist placed the gem upon the pedestal. Suddenly, the arm of the apparation shimmered, then burst into reality. The cultists watched in awe as the arm burst through into the world above, black and covered in shiny scales. And there, it would not do anything for a very, very long time, as it slowly absorbed power from the Eye. But time never stops anything forever...
Nisiad had gotten used to the hand. It had been there for seventeen decades now, and many of the citizens of Lexdale had deemed it harmless. But when Nisiad looked at it, he still got a feeling of uneasiness, like an ancient power slowly growing below. With a sense of wariness, he slipped on his assassin's cloak, sheathed his dagger, and flung open the door to his house.
Lexdale, years ago, had been a bustling town. Adventurers stopped by often to try out exotic fruits, or drinks. or try a bottle of Lexdale Ale, brewed from strange plants harvested from Kander Forest. As Nisiad walked down the marketplace aisles, purchasing his goods, a rumble shook the land. Citizens looked left and right frantically. Nisiad saw it first. For the first time in one hundred and seventy years, the hand moved. It lifted just a single finger, and the earth twitched as skeletons erupted from beyond the grave - the Cultists that had died long ago, still clutching wands and wearing tattered robes. With another flick, the skeletons regrew skin, their faces reforming in surprise as they were brought back to life after 170 years. With no hesitation, within less than an hour, the entire town of Lexdale had been overtaken by cultists once again.
Nisiad fled into his home, slamming the door shut. As the cultists slashed at the door with their wands and staves, he wrote three letters, and whisked them out on the wind, hoping that they could find help for his town someday.
And so it did. The first letter reached a hunter in the plains of Fruma, hunting for her next Grook. She could not help but answer the call, donning her horse and riding to the town of Nemract.
The second reached an electro-mage, honing his skills in the mechanical province of Corkus. He could not help but to ride to their aid. After all, he had inventions yet to be tested in the field.
And the last of the letters reached an apprentice, the apprentice of the mage that had conquered Lexdale so long ago. Donning his former master's staff, he rode off into battle. It was his duty to finish what his master had started so long ago.
And so the ragtag bunch regrouped in Lexdale - the electro-magician, the huntress, the assassin, and the apprentice. With weapons donned, they entered the Pit of Despair to defeat Naragath, once and for all.
A chilly wind blew over the warriors as they entered the tomb. Huge webs were weaved in the corners of the crypt, with giant spiders sitting atop them, licking their fangs, acid dripping down their mouths. The adventurers shuddered with unease, but continued down the uneven stairs.
Further down, the adventurers began seeing horrible demons incanted by the cultists. A green demon cackled wildly as it spewed acid across the ground. A red demon belched flames across the air, heating the air with intense heat. One was even swallowing a Cultist whole as it screamed in agony. The warriors destroyed the beasts and continued down the hellish cave.
The air in the cave became laced with dark magic as they continued onwards. The walls of the tomb changed from solid brick to hellstone, with lava dripping from the ceiling and stalactites sprouting from the ground, like sharp, daggerlike teeth. As they continued downwards, they heard the cackling of Naragath as he continued absorbing power from the ancient gem.
And finally, after hours of continuing down the spiraling pathaway, the four warriors reached a gaping, ominous cavern. In the center laid eight candles surrounding a white pedestal, holding a bloodred gem - the Eye of Blood. Above sat a huge demon, its black skin glowing with more power than ever. But it was no apparation. The Nagarath that was before them was flesh and blood, with a vengeance for revenge. It simply grinned, and the battle for their lives had begun.
Nagarath opened its palm, and from within it erupted demons, their faces twisted in eternal torment, with arms and legs twisted in pain. The electro-magician quickly responded, constructing a turret weaved from scrap. It launched staves into the foes, as they howled in pain, disintergrating into dust.
The demon frowned in mild aggravation. With another snap of its finger, Cultists jumped to the demons
aid, wielding powerful wands crafted from hellstone. However, the adventurers were ready. The huntresses'
arrows struck true, dispatching Cultists one by one. The Assasssin whirled around in a tornado of attacks, inflicting cultists with hundreds of scar marks before they crumbled to the ground. The apprentice easily decimated the cultists with spells that had killed them decades ago. Within a few minutes, the last Cultist toppled to the ground, spilling blood across the hellstone.
Nagarath finally lost its patience. With a bloodthirsty cry, it stepped down from above the ritual, its shiny black scales glowing with power greater than even the Corruptor's. It unleashed an endless volley of attacks, from meteors to strikes with its palm to its petrifying gaze. The warriors spiraled around the beast, firing arrows, launching scrap, and firing spells. Losing all of his gathered patience, Nagarath bellowed with the hatred of a thousand demons, channeling a beam from all life around it. The heroes braced for death as the beam was launched, a firey laser quickly crawling towards them...
But they never did die. As Nisiad opened his eyes, he saw the mage, creating a barrier of energy seperating them from the beam. He watched in awe, as the barrier slowly grew stronger and stronger, absorbing the laser with ease. Nagarath leaned back in shock. But before he could do anything more, the mage released the energy, channeling its power into one single shot. The demon howled in pain, skin melting, and disintergrated, its ashes scattered to the winds. As the ancient evil was slain, the cultists screamed as they began to lose their skin, as they slowly transformed back into skeletons. The apocalypse had been prevented...for now.

Have a good Hallowynn!
-SushiSlice, Level 90 Mage

 

Once again, another good story by Sushi! Well done, my friend, well done