Hello again fellow Elyrians! It's been a while since I wrote a CoE tale. Now with the advent of this event I had an idea!
Granted, as of this moment the story is short. That's a bit intended, just a bit. The story will keep updating as we go on. :D So look forward to updates!
Without further ado though, I present the beginning of this tale.
The Vault: Into Darkness
Grale adjusted the straps of his pack, digging at the soreness from countless hours carrying the thing. He kept walking as he did so, his attention focused only on canvas so he did not notice as they crested the rise. He stopped short as he walked into Mallon, the elderly adventurer having stopped unexpectedly in his tracks.
“Hey! What’s the…” He began but stopped short as the sight in front of him crystallized.
Over the last few months the days had grown shorter as the darkness encroached and Selene started to blot out Angelica’s light but he hadn’t paid that much attention to it. Now though, now he gasped as he looked up.
Selene had nearly engulfed Angelica, leaving behind only a thin orange sliver, a crescent sun of light that illuminated Selene in orange fire. A baleful eye staring down at the mortal world, fiery but unfeeling and about to plunge the world into icy darkness.
“Damn that’s a sight.” Mallon said, scratching at his beard.
Grale could only nod along.
It would be the first time he’d experience the Longest Night and as the days had grown shorter he had felt a deep seated growth of dread in the pit of his stomach. Winter and darkness were normal, natural; this though, this was something else; coupled with the appearance of the Eye it made the air itself feel… wrong.
However Mallon wasn’t staring at the sky, instead his eyes were focused in front of him and Grale followed his line of sight until he saw what was taking the old man’s attention.
If the Longest Night was a baleful eye staring down at the world in cold fire darkness, then the entrance to the vault was this creature’s mouth, a vast gaping maw of darkness and shadows, vines and tree roots its teeth extending into the mouth cavity like twisting fangs that would gnash and gnaw at you.
Grale gulped.
It had started with rumors, simple rumors that no one gave credence to; rumors of a vault filled with untold riches, a vast underground complex so old, so ancient none could tell its origins. Usually those tales faded given enough time.
This time things had been different though, this time the rumors didn’t fade. Instead they burst forth, birthing more and more rumors, tales, stories and lies as travelers and adventurers started walking the land laden with treasure; ancient coins bearing emblems beyond memory or even story, chalices of gold, lockboxes that neither force nor artifice could open. A hoard of strange and unusual objects that lent belief to the rumor. There was a vault! Grale had listened and watched and the more stories had come up, the more he’d started to believe.
That was when things had changed. It had not been a slow trickle, instead it had been a flood; menn and womenn, young and old, they’d picked up spades and picks, saddled donkeys and horses, all for the chance at a real fortune. It was as if a fever swept over the land engulfing both farmer and farrier, tinker and tanner. The lust for gold, for treasure had taken hold.
Grale had wanted to go back then. Wanted to join in the hunt for the treasure, to raid the vault and claim its riches but he’d been too scared, too afraid of the hardships ahead.
That had all changed when Mallon appeared, the old adventurer providing a wellspring of stoic courage.
“C’mon lad.” Mallon clapped him on the shoulder as he continued walking forward, shaking him out of his reverie and bringing him back to the present.
