Mordremoth is coming

Mordre1

Tyria has changed, I can feel it in the air, I can taste it in the water. After the victory over Zhaitan, nature’s elements had calmed down for a while but as it appears, this didn’t last long. I sense the earth tremble, the air crushing me as it engulfs me in its frozen embrace. The water in the rivers and lakes has a sickening taste. The energy that nurtures life on this world, is burning my insides. Every now and then a dark force jumps up from the abyss to haunt me and each time I look in its depths it instills its darkness inside me, slowly filling me with hatred and repulsion. It is as if my own soul gradually fades and I’m left hollow inside, leaving me a mere shadow of my former self. A ghost wandering in the darkness.

I know this feeling… an Elder Dragon is about to make his presence felt. I remember it was the same when Zhaitan spread terror. Back then I could watch Tyria’s races dipped in misery, depression and fear for these are the emotions that Zhaitan, the Undead Elder Dragon, used to feed upon. This time around, something quite different is taking place though.

The forests have grown dark –as if the trees’ soul has left them; their branches are bare, no leaves or fruit to grace them. The plants leave a poisonous taste on my tongue and have lost their nutritious substances. The flowers have withered, leaving death to the insects that pollinated them. The energy that fed the flora of Tyria’s forests, the same energy that once gave life to earth and every living thing upon it, seems to have vanished. Earth’s lungs have rot and with them, the soil itself is slowly rotting too. The temperatures are so extreme that exhaust me. In the morning when the sun rises from the east, it boils my body and makes me want to tear my flesh open as if that would cool it. At night when it descends and sets, I want to bury myself inside the earth and beg her to warm me in her arms. It seems as if summer and winter, in their most extreme forms, interchange within the same day.

Mordremoth_concept_art_2He has called for me… the Elder Dragon of the Jungle, Mordremoth. Inside the Dream, long before the sunrays awaken me for the first time among the fruits of the Pale Tree. When our thoughts first touched and I saw his terrible form for the very first time, in my mind, I felt everything I was inside explode and get devoured by blackness. Hulking like a mountain range, covered in bone spikes protruding from his back and tail. Wherever his feet land, skyscraping towers erupting from the abyss, darkness descends. He can shatter all in his path, as if they never existed. His wings when spread to take flight drape everything underneath them with a cloak of eternal shadow. He breaths in and throws up fire, bringing about holocausts. His eyes are like dark wells reaching in the Underworld; look into them and get sucked into these wells. The most horrible of all his features by far is the magic welled up inside him, the kind of magic that can manipulate you to his dark will.

The Elder Dragons have tortured me since the moment I stepped my foot on this world. I know I can sense them because when Mordremoth’s magic first touched me it stimulated an otherworldly sensation in me. I can feel their presence, even in their slumbering state, in everything that surrounds me. It is not my fault that Mordremoth woke up. I tried to fight it, but it was impossible. He steered me as if I have always been his.

Now it is too late for me. Since he stirred from his deep sleep, way over the horizon in the Maguuma Jungle, I felt my strength leaving me, my carnal presence fading. I thought I would be freed from all Elder Dragon torment once my spirit would leave my carcass behind and that I would be flowing as if I was raw energy diffused in nature. Alas, I am still in agony as one of them has just woken up; my pain is such as if I am torn apart and scattered in the wind, like dust.

I shall play my part as best as I can. I will become energy to awaken the force in the bodies of the living yet and I will turn to thought to boost their morale. For they must, at all cost, chase after Mordremoth, all those who still have any strength left in them. It is virtually impossible to stand up against him, but all of them come together then nothing is truly unachievable.

~George Merkouris

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*