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Et mortuus flores

Spiritual Mask Salesman

~ Deus' Pug Smuggler ~
ZD Legend
Site Staff
Joined
Oct 18, 2011
Location
The astral plane
The hour of darkness drew near. Twas the day of the festival of the harvest, all would gather to the castle courtyard for a great feast to celebrate, but the day of the harvest was much more than a day of celebration, it twas an accursed day. It was believed that on the day when the sun went down the dead would came back to haunt the living. Because of this it was accustom for all people of the kingdom to wear a mask, a guise which would scare away the spirits. This year the festival was to be hosted by the High Priest, Mortaium Benivarious. As Mortaium got ready for the feast he was unaware that a gathering of his fellow priests was happening, Mortaium had not been invited. “As with every year the spirits of the dead shall awaken when the hour of darkness draws near; but this year masks will not scare them. In order to keep them from bringing plagues and famine we must appease them.” The priest by the name of Ulysos said. With him were two other priests whose names were Hectain, and Sophicaus. “What is it that the dead want from the living?” Sophicaus replied. “ A living soul.” Ulysos exclaimed. “ Who's soul?” Hectain asked. “Someone's who is deemed unworthy of life.” Ulysos said.

Soon after these events transpired the gathering was dismissed, the three priests made their way to the courtyard just as the sun had begun to set, and the moon appeared on the horizon. Many gathered for the feast, Kings, Queens, Princes, Princesses, Knights, and even Kings from far away lands appeared. There was dancing, conversation, music, and enough food and wine for everyone. Mortaium was having a wonderful time, but this would soon change. A man appeared whose voice was not familiar to Mortaium. The man approached, and bowed,“Peace be with thee high priest. I have been instructed to give ye a gift of great riches.” The man said. Mortaium thought for awhile whether to accept the offer, but in truth Mortaium valued wealth very much. “What kind of riches?” He asked. “ Mountains of gold, silver, crystals, and rubies!” The man replied. The thought of riches of that magnitude enticed Mortaium. “Follow me, and I shall lead you to them.” The man said. Mortaium decided to follow the man.

He lead Mortaium outside, away from the courtyard, and the festival. It was dark, but the man carried with him a lantern. The streets were empty, everyone was at the festival. They did not go far; the man lead Mortaium to the nearby temple. “Is this where mine riches are?” Mortaium asked. “Yes, and no. They are not far.” The man said. They entered the temple. “ What is your name?” Mortaium asked. “Some call me the infinite scale, or Judgement.” The man responded with a chilling tone. He led Mortaium to a wall which had a loose brick which would have otherwise been overlooked. The man pushed it in and suddenly a doorway appeared with a stairwell which led below the temple. “What is this! I have no knowledge of this stairwell!” Mortaium exclaimed. “Its a secret stairwell; known only to a select few within the royal family. It leads to a treasury deep beneath the temple. Follow me, we are very close to your richs.” The man said. They went down the spiraling stairwell, very deep beneath the temple. The further below they went, the colder it got.

Finally they came to a end to the stairs. They were in a arched hall which seemed to be a network of underground tunnels. The door closest to Mortaium the man pointed at, “Behind it your riches await.” He said. Mortaium walked over to the door and opened it. Inside there was nothing. Suddenly Mortaium was attacked from behind, blindfolded, and detained against his will. “You lied!” Mortaium yelled. “Did I not tell ye? They also call me trickery! Mine silver tongue made ye think I led you to a threat!” The man exclaimed, laughing hysterically. Mortaium was then picked up, and carried away. They walked very far, they took him back above ground in an outside area; he knew because he could feel wind. They then put Mortaium on what felt like a table, and took off his blindfold. He was within a wooded area which had a opening were he was; it was a grove. The place where he had been put down was not a table, it was a sabbath, stained black with the dried blood of victims of sacrifice! He then heard a voice,“Dear Mortaium, this year masks will not scare the spirits of the dead. In order to save all we must sacrifice, the death gods want your soul!” A man said. The voice was familiar to Mortaium. Ulysos? Brother? Can'st I be spared?” Mortaium cried out. “Your fate has been sealed. Come fellow druids, we must begin the sacrificial ceremony!” Ulysos said. Two others approached Mortaium, they were Hectain and Sophicaus. Then, twelve temple sages surrounded Mortaium and the three preists. They all began to chant. They all wore blood red robes, and the faces of victims who had been killed before Mortaium! Beware. The further accounts of that autumn's night are gruesome, enough to make one become sickened in the stomach. I warned thee.

First they strapped his arms and legs so he could not move. Next they branded him with strange markings, and poured boiling hot water on him from head to toe. Then they cut out his tongue so he could no longer speak, only scream in torment. Then they pulled out his eyes so he could no longer see; but his ears they left untampered so that he may hear the sounds of his own screams of pain! Next they began to slowly cut away Mortaium's skin while he was still alive. The pain was unbearable, it cannot even be comprehended, or rather a mortal dare not ponder it. While they skinned him Mortaium died, but even after he died they still tampered with his body. They took out all his organs and put them within jars, similar to the way the Egyptians had once done. They burned his body, and the jars with his organs, the smoke would prove to the gods the ceremony was completed. Though they had once task left. During the ceremony they had channeled all of Mortaium's blood into a wine barrel. Later that evening they mingled Mortaium's blood with all the wine for the festival. Every guest in attendance unknowingly drank a portion of Mortaium's blood!

They say that if one were to wander into the forest were the ritual took place, that you can still hear the screams of Mortaium's unresting spirit, still in agony even in death. The day which the ceremony took place so long ago came to be known by most... as Halloween.
 
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