|The Crypt of Vatos|
Designed by Taeloch
Medium Groups: 27-31
Large Groups: 25-31
In the southwestern portion of the Medievian continent, hidden in a deep, fog-shrouded swamp near a twisting river, there stand the remains of a massive gate, and a crypt beyond.
The crypt is covered in ivy, its once-majestic marble facade bleached white by thousands of years of scorching sunlight. This place was once the center of religious attention of the Vatos. Prayer and meditation were the cornerposts of daily life, and the priests and those who served them lived a life of quiet isolation.
Until the sky went black.
Powerful clans were warring nearby, leaving nothing in their wake but desolation and ashes. Everything was darkened over by the thick, acrid, greasy smoke of funeral pyres. The choking odor of burning flesh filled the air, and the civilization of the Vatos was all but destroyed.
Nothing was left of the grandeur and stoic majesty of the crypt. Even the tombs and graves beneath the ground, considered holy and inviolate, were left desecrated and defaced. The bodies of the Vatos' ancestors were looted and left to rot in the open air, their tombs ravaged and despoiled.
Their god, Liamnar, was so enraged with the destruction of his people that he breathed life once again into the bodies of the few he could find, sending them into the crypt to clear away the stink of war and to take his slow revenge. Meant to protect the remains were the undead souls of priests, warriors, and commoners.
Recently, there have been reports of bodies being taken from graves in the local villages and clantowns. By order of the local magistrate, all available forces were ordered to find the source of the desecration of gravesites. Soldiers and peasants alike formed around the towns and blanketed the area, until they came upon a dark, swampy area, thick with fog. In this swamp, covered in vines, was a stone building no one had laid eyes on for thousands of years.
As the warriors approached the building, the ground began to bubble with a foul stench. The skies turned blood-red, and lightning and thunder made such noise that concentration was quite literally impossible. The force of the weather tore through their meager defenses, taking with it into nothingness all that remained of them.
That was three days ago. There is only one report of the happenings of that afternoon. A young boy who had been hunting in the area came running to the temple of his priest to report what he had seen. Pools of thick, viscous blood and hair blanketed the area around the half-sunken crypt, he said. However, there were no bodies, weapons, horses, or anything resembling the remains of the search party that had left mere days before.
It can only be assumed that the entire party was slaughtered. What happened to their bodies--and, indeed, to their souls--lies in ambiguity.
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