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Sorcerer Aldus of the Morning Star (#6491)

Owner: 0x03d9…c658

WAR MACHINE RISING

[PART I]

The shadowed entrance to the cathedral ruins is a welcome sight to the heretic. It wasn’t a long journey from the cave, but he's eager to be home. Home is the best place to wallow in your own self-pity. Aldus is about to begin preparations for a guidance spell when he spots the black wolf following him.

“I’ve seen you before. Where did you come from?" Aldus scratches his head. "More importantly, why are you here?” he asks, perplexed.

The regal onyx wolf just stares at the heretic without expression before scanning the new environment. Pleasantly surprised to see many bones littering the ground, the wolf ignores the heretic’s questions and searches for a comfortable spot to rest. Aldus is lost in thought for a moment. His mind drifts to memories of his lost legions and dark commanders. His failure incessantly continues to torture him. In the past, Aldus led a campaign across the world, seizing lands and toppling kingdoms — earning ominous titles such as Aldus the Black, and more commonly known, The Heretic. That all came to an end when he was unknowingly cursed with forgetfulness and left his legions, resulting in their downfall. He is pulled from his woeful reverie by the smell of stale blood. Nearby, a human corpse hangs upside down from a hook and length of chain secured to the rafters. Below the corpse is a large black cauldron, positioned to collect blood from the exsanguinated body above. The heretic approaches the cauldron, dips a finger into the amassed blood, and frowns. The supply had coagulated during his recent adventure. To augment his black magic, he typically smears blood upon the cathedral walls in the shape of runes, which activate by the light of the moon to become magical conduits. However, only fresh blood will do. His gaze drifts to the wolf.

“Get up! This isn’t the time to sleep! OUT! Go fetch me a victim. I don’t care who or what it is, but be quick about it!” shouts Aldus. He isn’t sure if it his yelling which sends the wolf away or if it actually understands him. Either way, he is content to be alone for a while.

His solitude is short-lived, as the onyx wolf returns to the cathedral ruins with a lifeless hare dangling from its massive jaw. Without a word or hesitation, the heretic steps forward, crouches, and places his hand on the hare. Feeling warmth, the heretic stands and appraises the wolf in a new light.

“Well, you may prove to be more useful than I first thought. Drop the hare over there,” Aldus says pointing. “I will call you — Fellheart.”

The onyx wolf completes the task and selects a large radius bone to chew on while he watches the heretic collect blood from the small dead animal. The dark sorcerer tops the cauldron off with fresh blood and begins his craft. He marks two expertly drawn runes of brimstone and air and closes his eyes.

“O Nightmare Imp, behemoth of the night sky, offer me guidance. I once was whole, but now I am lost. Show me the way forward!”

Aldus dips his fingers in the warm blood again and prepares to draw the final rune needed to cast the spell. He paints the beginning of a crimson arc and pauses. His hand slides downward along the wall and all remaining poise drains from the fallen sorcerer as he cannot remember the rest of the spell. He violently kicks the cauldron over in rage, causing a startled Fellheart to drop his prized bone. Aldus slumps to the floor and remains there against the wall for an indeterminate amount of time.

Entered by: 0x03d9…c658 and preserved on chain (see transaction)

WAR MACHINE RISING

[PART II]

The morning following the heretic’s humiliating spell failure, he awakes to Fellheart's barking. He begrudgingly locates the wolf near the exit of the cathedral. Aldus notes the beast’s sage, imploring look. Something about those eyes conveys that Fellheart is urging him to leave the ruins and begin another journey. A strange pull within him tells him to follow the wolf. After all these years of confusion and misery, the heretic has learned to accept these tugs of the subconscious. He nods to the wolf and hastily gathers peculiar supplies for the trip.


As the days stretch on, Aldus and Fellheart grow accustomed to their traveling routine. The journey had been unremarkable thus far, but Aldus knows there is a cosmic significance to following this enigmatic wolf. The only time his trust in the beast wavered was when he realized they were headed through The Thorn. It wasn’t the dense forest that worried him. It was what lay on the other side.


Fellheart leads the heretic up a valley, away from the cold creek running along the bottom where they stopped for a momentary rest. Aldus notices an increase in green saplings and brambles. The change in flora indicates they are approaching the forest edge, though in The Thorn, it is still hard to tell. At the crest of the forest valley, sunlight shining through the trees confirms the observation. The pair move past the thinning trees and into an open field. The heretic freezes. Fellheart casts a backward glance in annoyance and continues on his path forward. Aldus is conflicted. The Quantum Shadow looms before them. There are countless tales about The Quantum Shadow but seeing it in person is an entirely different matter. Rolling curtains of thick black fog form tendrils that seemingly reach out to claim anyone that dares get close. Fellheart walks onward undeterred. Aldus has an immaculate affinity for darkness, but he is still dubious of the infamous region. The wolf stoically advances to the edge of the fog, turns around and sits to watch the heretic. Aldus cautiously walks to the shadowy curtain and reaches out with his left hand. Unsure of what to expect, he's astonished to feel to a connection with The Quantum Shadow. The darkness welcomes him. Aldus visibly relaxes. He tentatively touches the shadow with a calculated, wary motion. He makes contact and falls to his knees. His own fog is lifted. The curse keeping his memories at bay like a forbidden dam is breached, causing knowledge and experiences to flood his mind. The Heretic remembers.

Fellheart patiently waits as tidal waves of emotion pass through the sorcerer. Some of the emotions are familiar, yet some are foreign to him. Anguish, despair, hopelessness; these are the feelings The Heretic is intimately close with. However, guilt, shame and longing have never gripped him until now. Aldus has always been self-absorbed in his rise to power, using comrades and trusted advisors as mere pawns on his chessboard of conquest. He should be rejoicing at his reclaimed memories and the curious beast who led him here, but he cannot. Aldus sags onto the dirt haunted by the mental images of his legions abandoned by their leader, slaughtered by enemies in the confusion. Why do I care? I never did before. The barrage of strange thoughts is almost unbearable. If only I could have the chance to explain to them. I had no idea! The Heretic then thinks of his second-in-command, Bayard. The one he relied on the most. Grief racks his body.

Suddenly, he remembers the encounter with the nomad Alatar on the night before his curse took root. Details populate the memory like reflecting on a recurring dream. He remembers the presence of one of his lieutenants. Setsuko was there.

“It's time for answers. If Alatar was the source of the curse, Setsuko will know. She might shed light on his whereabouts. Alatar is a fire mage from the Riviera, but seems to always be avoiding it. The trailblazer. He'll be elsewhere," Aldus mutters. He turns to the wolf, who is still waiting and watching him intently.

“Fellheart, we need new supplies — and I know just where to get them. Necromancy can be complicated at times, so let’s stock up properly.” Fellheart perks up, seemingly eager for the next stage of their journey.

Entered by: 0x03d9…c658 and preserved on chain (see transaction)