Bowels of the Underneath

Bowels of the Underneath

Tauria

Journal Entry One

Silence and shadows; two of the things that once helped us more than anything else in the entire world. They were two attributes we could rely on. We used them quite often in our war against the Scourge of the Underneath. Those two things made us heroes; after we closed shut the Gate. We were sent home, to choose a life of pleasure... We were able to follow whatever life we chose.

Our kind was not one to chase after battles. So, at first, we were happy. But we were born fighters. It was in battle that we were most at home, though we hated the killing. It was, and is, a hard existence for our kind. All of us missed the action we had once gotten when we had fought the Scourge. We missed the battles, the praise we got from our captains. It was a hard time, despite the fact we did little. We waited for the time when we would be useful again.

That day never came.

Eventually, we grew used to our new lifestyle, though our hearts and spirits still longed for a time when we could fight until we were more than exhausted. It caused unease amongst us, and so we went to the king of the full-bloods.

As we were there, we found that this new time of peace was not all that it seemed. His wife, the queen, had turned insane. Or perhaps she had always been like that. It was hard to say. We tried to reason with the king, but he believed the queen over us, saying that our glorious leader - he who closed the Gate to the Underneath - was the one who was trying to corrupt the kingdom, not she.

And who would believe us? We who were more beast then man? The guards were sent after us, driving us back. We fought, like all cornered beasts would, but we were forced to hide...to surrender and go underground. We hid in one of our kind's ancient temple, one that was held sacred to our kind, and all others were forbidden to enter, less evil fall upon them. Or so stories went.

And so begins our first day, stuck here.

The temple is still tall and strong, but the pillars are old. They have cracks within them, as plants grow from them. The windows have been packed with dust and mold, and more plants. When it rains, the ceiling leaks. Dust clogs our throats and noses, but it is better than rotting in jail, I suppose.

We stay in the main room, having stored all of our food below. A quick inventory suggests that some of the food has been preserved... and being what we are, we will not get sick from eating it.

The only two things that give me comfort in this dark prison are my family, and my journal. I shall keep a log of our time here, in case it is ever of use for those who find us... Hopefully alive.

Journal Entry Two

It happened the night we sent someone to go get food. It was a man named Mikal. He was always a sensible man. He was a fine doctor, and was a valuable asset to us during the war. He was also an excellent fighter.

However, when he came back, he was shaking, eyes rolling back in his head. His voice quavered as he spoke. I shall never forget what he said... His words still chill me to the core:

'They have returned... We failed in our ultimate quest. The Scourge are still here... But they are not like the ones we fought before... Their eyes hold utter madness, and they speak of places I cannot fathom... A Gate has been opened in this temple... One to the Bowels... We are doomed... Doomed...'

After he spoke, he began muttering words in gibberish, as if he had delivered his message, and was now reduced to the mutters of a madman. The leaders told us to ignore it; he had probably seen something that frightened him.