Acacia Chronicle

From the writings of Nhaka Mezalune for the Akashic Records, written ten years before the present day…

This land. It’s despair, manifest.

That’s what the mortals say about the Deadlands! The sun doesn’t shine here, and the trees are dead and barren. And I’ve yet to see a single living thing, for days on end! The malaise of what feels like undeath lingers palpably within the cold air, and I can feel its dryness slithering upon my skin and my eyestalks, despite the thick furs of my trusty cloak.

Pretty bleak, yes? Oh, but I know better! Far better! If the records salvaged from the Alyssian Empire hold truth, then this place has definitely seen better days. For sure! This place that I speak of, that now exists within the Ecclesiarch’s dominion, far off the main roads that connect the Holy See of Arcadia with the little towns, villages, and forts, established all over the land. Further so, I’ll add, far from the dark corners of the earth, and the darker dungeons where monsters both of this world and beyond, dwell!

Eldia. That’s what it was called, once! It was a little hamlet ruled by a family of elven sorcerers, long before Elicia’s time. Long before the arrival of myself and my fellow Hellbourne, and the war between men and elves that the mortals call the Corruption! It was once a thriving little place, a minor kingdom amongst many in the Alyssian Empire of old. Now, in the age of Elicia, I come here in search of its dread overlord. The Lich, Elena de L’Enfer!

Oh wait, my bad! Took a while, but I realise that I’ve gone ahead of myself, far too soon! Sometimes, I forget that I write this Chronicle not merely for myself, but for others who seek the Akashic Records for information on Archons and Viziers past, present and future. And so, very much so I’ll say, a little backtracking is in order!

You see, a Lich is an undead sorcerer! Their power, on a relative scale, rests comfortably at the apex of Amon’s hierarchy of the undead! They’re creatures of bloodless might beyond life and death, either sorcerers without peer or warriors with reflexes and strength far beyond the mortal ken! There have been humans, elves, half-dragons, even actual dragons, who have sought the secrets of the Dark Goddess to attain this power for themselves. Crazy stuff, I tell you!

But I suppose, the craziest part is that they’re immortal! They can’t ‘die’ in that mortal sense, and I mean this, literally! Their physical forms upon this world are but mere projections of concentrated magic shaped in their own image, created by their ‘phylactery’ – an enchanted object where their soul is preserved! These physical manifestations of magic and will can be destroyed, but so long as the phylactery remains, they’ll be back. Eventually!

Now, I suppose this should clear up why I’m looking for this Elena de L’Enfer! Immortality and mastery over the secrets of magic, are both righteous traits for a Vizier of the Eye! And she’s a violent one to boot, or so I’ve heard! In centuries past, she was said to have killed her brother, the Count de L’Enfer. It was a night of bloodshed, so it was claimed, a coup that damned her soul, and destroyed their estate and the surrounding acres. Now, all that remains, is a devil in red and gold that only the mad and the desperate would go after.

That said, in the recent decades, straight from the mouth of travellers lucky enough to survive going off the beaten path, I’ve also heard that there’s… gardening? They tell me tales of groups of skeletal labourers working tirelessly on clearing rubble, attending to gardens of wilting greenery. Notably, those who have passed through relatively unharmed to tell me this, were humans and elves less predisposed towards violence! Funny how that works, yes?

Is it true? Who knows! I can’t verify the past, nor these aforementioned developments. The people of Eldia are no more, for they’ve abandoned their kingdom in the Corruption that happened soon after that fateful night, some joining the Emperor up north in his genocidal crusade against humankind, and others seeking refuge anywhere else. What I can say about this, though, now that I’m here, is that the Deadlands, this place that was once Eldia, has become a no-man’s land. Lost and forgotten, when the war for humanity’s extinction by the elves of old reached a fever pitch, when we, the Hellbourne, entered the fray. Now, with that Corruption in the past, all that remains here is a land where the wind blows bitter cold.

Regardless, I’ve taken all of this to heart, and I’ve come prepared as best I can! It’s all that I have to work with, admittedly, leavened with rumour, conjecture, and outright lies. I mean, I did make a promise to the newly-crowned Ecclesiarch of the Holy See of Arcadia, Iris de Escaflora, who would have the Deadlands cleansed as one of the Capitulations made on her coronation. I’d like to think that she only stayed her hand at my request, that I help settle this Capitulation of hers without bloodshed! After all, the Codex Elicia, that door-stopper of a holy book that her Central Church holds so dear, says that the greatest sin of all is to fail in service of Elicia. By that logic, each being slain or destroyed is one who can no longer serve, and thus a sinner of the worst kind!

Well, whatever! If it doesn’t work out, I could always use a phylactery to sup on. Those things are really tasty, I’m telling you! But hopefully, it won’t come to that.

Now, I stand before a great gate, its walls of ice and stone manned by skeletons armed with rusted spears and crossbows. These soldiers look at me quietly, their gazes a fiery blue within their skulls and their reanimated frames creaking with the cold. Some of them are dressed in tattered uniforms of red and gold that hang threadbare from their bones, while others are dressed in adventuring gear, surely a sign of the fate of those seeking to plunder the secrets of the Lich’s lair for themselves. From within them all, I can sense the presence of their mistress watching me by proxy, and I’d like to think that she can discern my peaceful intentions and the gift that I’ve brought with me!

Seems to be so! The gates open up wide, and I follow the skeletons into the town as they lead me, wordlessly, towards their dark lord. Much like the land itself, the buildings within have seen better days. Just like the château looming in the distance, where I can see, with all my eyes and eyestalks amidst the icy gloom, skeletal attendants working on what appears to me like garden terraces that I can best described as wilted. Flowers and plants of all kinds, not doing so well in this desolate land, I’m afraid!

But I’m glad, really! The rumours are true! And from the lack of skeletons trying to kill me, I’d say that I’ve been granted an audience with the Countess of Eldia, Elena de L’Enfer!