The Old Gods

Prologue: Hollandair Cull

Hollandair Cull stepped onto the shores of the City of the Lost Angels. It was a place of legend, long lost to the sands, or in this case, the seas of time. In its prime, the City of the Lost Angels was said to be Heaven on Earth, with towers of gleaming gold and pillars of marble. The more far-fetched myths told of a pathway to Heaven hidden somewhere in the City, and only the pure of heart could pass through. There were temples and shrines built there, honouring the Angels that had so valiantly sacrificed themselves in the Old War. Never-before-seen relics resided in the ruins of this once-glorious city, and Hollandair Cull was going to find them and bring them back.

No one had been there since the War ended, meaning the City was in various states of decay. The gold statues were tarnished by age, and the temples were infested with all sorts of flora and fauna. No one with half a brain would've dared to mount an expedition through the seemingly endless cloud of mist, but Cull had more than half a brain. He had what it took. He was brave enough. He knew how to survive on his own. Cashing in all his savings, he purchased equipment and found a ship willing to take him into the mist. It had cost him a hefty sum, but it was well worth it, especially now that he was here.

He'd gone through hell to get here. His chartered crew was presumably dead and lying at the bottom of the ocean, after that surprise attack from the Drakphalopods. Ten draconic squid-like beings had emerged from the waves, lashing out at the ship. Hollandair knew it was dangerous, but it was better than staying here like a sitting duck. He grabbed all his equipment, snuck away on a lifeboat and paddled off into the Mist, all alone in the swirling fog and the stormy seas. His canoe was small enough to evade the drakphalopods' notice.

In his hands was a map like no other. It was the only map in existence that showed all of Orbana, even these supposedly uncharted parts. Those who knew of it didn't know who its cartographer was. It was told that an Angel was the one who charted these islands. Something concealed by the wall of mist killed him, and the map vanished into history.

Cull took a deep breath of the salty sea air. Slinging his rucksack around his back, he began his trek up the beach. There was a building sense of dread and anticipation in his chest. You're going to be a legend when you get home, he told himself, they'll have your name in history books. It was quite hard for him to believe. Most scientific circles on Orbana declared the City of Lost Angels as nothing but a myth. There was no war between angels and Death. There were only foolish decisions made by their ancestors.

He left his footprints in the soft grey sand. The entire City was silent except for Cull's footsteps and the waves splashing against the shore. Storm clouds gathered above him, and the mist surrounding the island started to thicken. Cull flipped up his hood and made a run for shelter. Dark water fell from the skies, sizzling as they touched the brick buildings.

There was no time for him to admire any of the marvellous structures. Cull spotted a tunnel leading deeper underground and decided it would be safer inside than in any of the other buildings. The steps leading down were eroded by age, and the doors to the tunnel entrance were rusted. Cull kicked it down. It crumbled away at his feet.

Powering up his gas-lamp, Cull shone his light down the tunnel. The first thing Cull noticed was the huge Old Earth symbol carved into the floor. He reached into his coat pocket and consulted his dictionary. every single identified Old Earth symbol was written down and translated in it. He doubted it would appear in the book, but it was worth a try.

"Steam? Smoke? Sparks?" Cull muttered to himself. None of them matched the symbol on the floor.

"Locomotive?" He finally stumbled on something that vaguely resembled it. Looking up, Cull saw a signboard hanging from the ceiling. It was covered in pockmarks and some mysterious black substance, but some words were still legible.