Road to Mhaldor

By: Crathen Posted on: November 30, 2009

A young man strode with confidence, on the road to Mhaldor. The destination is forbidden, to those of his age, but that merely strengthens his resolve to see this "enemy", this place of Evil, Evil which must be purged!

He walks within the darkness, as he has been taught by his masters, slowly traversing the treacherous Northern Vashnars, far from the Light, now. Flitting between shadows of trees and of boulders, he thinks himself quite the infiltrator, apparently unseen by the usual walkers of this path.

Hours pass, and finally Mhaldor's Isle consumes his vision, a mass of writhing, crimson fog, the City itself a malignant pupil gazing towards him.

Eager now, and careless, he rapidly descends the mountainside, only bothering to hide himself when others are nearby. The fog swirls around him, as cloying and alien to the young Serpentlords' sensibilities to the vile gibbets and the cadavers which occupy them. Voices whisper and creatures beckon at the limit of his senses, eroding the Righteousness, the Good.

Another, more tangible force assails him, a vicious apparition of tentacles and claws. Nearly gutted by a single blow, the young man flees further into the mist, terrified. Finally composing himself, he sits sheltered within a protective shield from his tattoo for almost an hour, before daring to move again. He can feel the presence of Mhaldor now, a cloying, overbearing wrongness, anathema to his spirit.

He edges onward, every step given the greatest consideration. Dark shapes tower above him, barely visible through the fog, the merest impressions of wicked spires and leering wraiths.

The feeling of wrongness is tenfold now, as he approaches the city of Evil, all thoughts of Righteousness and Light now replaced by sheer apprehensive terror. Each step illuminates further the beast he is approaching, simultaneously stifling the Light within him.

A sudden gust of wind clears the fog above him, and the city of Mhaldor is revealed to him, no longer simply a collection of buildings and streets and evil-doers, but a single, malevolent entity. His pulse slows as he gazes at the implacable Baelgrim Fortress, the imposing Spires which loom ominously above him, as he feels the extreme, terrifying influence of the Twins - and deep within him he feels the crushing terror joined, but not mitigated, by sheer awe.

Meanwhile, the other Serpentlord prepares to reveal himself from the shadows, glad that the arduous tracking part of his task is done, and now the interesting portion will commence. He reviews his appearance, his stature, aiming to confuse the young one. To which side, the child will wonder, does he belong? Friend or foe, Naga or Dawnstrider? The real question, though, as both of them know, is which the child would prefer...