Let's get into some fun, shall we?
The Ruination
A Blanket For Weary Souls
Dreams Born of Madness
Spirit Quest Part II
The Sleeping Monastery Part I
Irelia looks up, spotting the edge of the monastery's walls cresting before them. The Kinkou Monastery was quiet, banners whipping in the chill air blowing down from higher in the mountains. No torches guttered on the walls, and even with the sleet partially obscuring her vision, she couldn't see anyone watching on the walls or near the gate.
It had been quite a journey to get here, and now they stood, weary, armor and clothing well-worn, hair wild, and in Erath's case sporting a quickly lengthening beard, but it did not appear they'd see much of a respite within.
"No guards," Irelia states, turning to her companions.
Rakan grimaces and unholsters his borrowed Relic Pistol, "Expect trouble, got it."
"What is this place?" Erath asks, tying his scarf tighter around his face as Henrietta snaps at the chill air in annoyance.
"The Kinkou Monastery, they preserved the balance between the mortal and the spirit realm," Irelia states, trudging forward.
"Didn't do the best job." Rakan mutters grimly, "You'd think they'd have cared more about my people's worries if the balance was what they were after."
"Possible failings aside, they will likely have the information we need to find the Green Father." Irelia remarks, glancing at the darkened palisade again, "Even if we have to find it on our own."
Erath's eyes narrow, "You folks are more magic than most like you're both Mages? Right."
Rakan scoffs, "I'm a Vastaya kid. We're all magic, no need for lofty titles."
Irelia shakes her head, "We don't use those terms much here, many have magic, but we do not sit in dour towers and sneer over vast tomes of knowledge."
Erath blinks, "What mages are you thinking about?"
"Does it matter?" Irelia returns, looking up at him, "Why did you ask?"
"Well, you've both mentioned how Ionia is alive, that it has a soul that imbues everything with magic, yeah?" Erath asks.
"Yes." the other two state in unison.
"And I'm guessing these Kinkou, if they were trying for balance, were connected to it like Karma was?"
A cold realization dawns on Irelia's face.
"We've seen the effects of the Spirit's Ruination on other people, everyday people." Erath continues, unholstering his rifle, "So what then happens to people…."
"Who purposefully tied themselves to the spirit to protect Ionia." Irelia finishes.
"Oh, joy," Rakan mutters.
The trio manages to push their way through the gate and find the center courtyard abandoned.
"This feels wrong," Rakan states, looking around.
"It is eerie." Erath agrees, sliding off Henrietta's back, the large reptile scenting the air and growling.
"Not that, though that doesn't help, the magic, it's off," Rakan mutters, his ears twitching back and forth as if hearing something.
"You've said that most places we have gone," Irelia notes.
"Right, but this is more, more hollow, more…hungry." Rakan notes, looking about furtively, "Whatever we're looking for, we need to find and get out fast."
"Then we should better get started." Irelia states.
"Best bet, biggest building," Erath remarks, gesturing to the central portion of the monastery, its blue banners rippling softly in the sleet-choked wind.
Irelia and Rakan move towards the building, the former drawing her blades while the latter aimed his pistol cautiously, hunting for any signs of the Black Mist.
Erath takes Henrietta and leads her into a stable, pulling some jerky from his pack and briefly patting her snout before turning and joining the others.
"Be ready." Irelia states.
The others nod, raising their weapons, as she slowly pushes open the door and slides inside.
Unseen by any of them, a silent observer watches their entrance through narrowed eyes from atop the far corner of the palisade.
Erath sighs as he opens another room and finds a Kinkou apprentice curled into a tight ball in the center of their bed.
He approaches slowly, reaching down and gently checking for a pulse.
Their heart beats, and he lets out a sigh of relief, looking around the room for any clues or signs of what happened here.
Nothing, except dust-covered clothes, a staff leaning in the corner, and several books, though he doubts whatever info they were looking for would be in the hands of a young initiate.
"Anything?" Irelia asks, looking into the room.
"No, asleep, just like the last few," Erath mutters, rubbing his chin still unused to the feel of a beard beneath his fingers, "You?"
"The same, masters, initiates, neophytes, all sleeping," Irelia mutters.
"We've seen it before," Erath states, joining her in the hall.
"But you'd think those trained in to deal with fluctuations and changes in the Spirit would have a way to…resist," Irelia mutters.
"Resist something that has never happened before?" Rakan points out, emerging from another room.
"True, find anything?" Irelia asks.
Rakan opens his hand, revealing a ring of keys.
"Figure these go to something," pointing down the hall to where the building opened into a small rectangle, with several closed doors visible.
"It's the best shot we've had yet," Irelia notes.
The trio makes their way, glancing into several other sleeping quarters and finding it the same, individuals curled into themselves as if trying to hold off the cold.
"They're all in the same position," Erath notes.
"I've noticed." Irelia states, "As if they're in the middle of grieving."
Rakan nods, opening his mouth and then pausing as the faintest sound of breaking wood can be heard.
All three raise their weapons, Rakan's ears alert, while Irelia narrows her eyes.
"That way," Rakan states, pointing towards a door that was just the slightest bit ajar.
"I'll go." Erath states, "You too check the other doors."
The others nod.
"Careful," Irelia advises.
Erath gives her a thumbs-up and heads towards the door.
It opens without even a creak, and with his rifle raised, he enters the hall. The doors along this length are marked with intricate symbols and Ionian script.
He can make out the words Tempest and Shadow and stops as he notices the barest bit of light shimmering from beneath the door at the back of the hall marked Twilight.
He approaches slowly, testing the boards beneath his feet in an effort to make as little noise as possible.
Inching closer to the door, he blocks one ear and leans towards it, listening and catching the faintest hint of clothing shifting.
Leaning flat against the wall, he slowly begins to push the door open, darting around, rifle raised, finding….
No one.
Instead, he sees a room filled with wilted flowers, blossoms, and cracked gems surrounding a simple mat on the floor. A small spring trickled feebly in the back of the room.
He enters cautiously, looking about him, taking in bits of Ionian art and calligraphy, sketches of faces he doesn't realize.
Several books rest on a mantle piece, but a cursory glance, even with his bare knowledge of Ionian, shows that none are the ones he is looking for.
He glances up towards the ceiling, several rafters resting above him, and hears the faintest creak as something shift above the doorway behind him.
He whirls, and the knife that was about to catch him in the back pings off his shoulder armor instead.
Perched on the door frame is a young woman, maybe his age, perhaps a little younger, dressed in thick green cloth with a bit of fur and leather, adding additional warmth and padding. A green bandana covers the lower portion of her face, and her black hair is pulled into a swooping, bird-wing-like ponytail at the back of her head.
Her light-brown eyes glare at him with a mixture of anger and curiosity as she pulls another knife from her belt, a sharp scythe-like weapon clutched in her other hand.
He lunges through the doorway and turns, halberd-like bayonet swinging and nearly catching her in the chin as she darts after him.
"Stop!" he orders, pointing the rifle directly at her face, "I'm not your enemy."
"Says the Noxian." the girl snarks back.
"That isn't important right now, is it?" Erath demands.
"It is when I find one poking around my home." the girl returns, "Who are you? Did you do this?"
She gestures around.
"Erath, and no, why do you not know what happened?" Erath asks.
"No, does anyone, things just went bad, freaky undead, demons, and then it's like everything just up and died, people falling asleep on their feet out of the blue!" the girl exclaims, "I came back to…do you know?!"
"My friends and I might be able to explain it to you," Erath states, "Just lower the weapons, and let's talk…."
He begins to lower his rifle and gestures for her to tell him her name. She frowns slightly.
"Akali, now why are you here?" she asks.
"We're looking for information that can help us fix what's happened." Erath states.
"And what happened?" Akali demands.
"That is a very long story, and I'm not the best to tell it, so if you could come with me and meet my friends they-"
An echoing, mournful wail shakes the hall, cutting him off and sending a shiver down his spine.
He looks around frantically, hunting for the source.
"What is that?" Akali asks, crouching low to the ground.
"Nothing good." Erath returns, "Come on!"
He races back towards where he left the others.
Rakan opens the left-hand door and lets out a low whistle as he takes in the beginnings of a fairly sizable library.
"If it isn't here…" he begins, only for Irelia to cut him off.
"It's here. Let's start looking," she states, darting into the room.
Rakan nods, shifting through the stacks, looking for anything that mentioned Older Spirits, which turned out to be quite a bit.
He was flipping through the fifth book, showing depictions of beings that supposedly once walked and recently returned to the Freljord, when a haunting wail paused his progress.
Looking up from the depiction of the "Seal-Sister," he spots Irelia, looking towards the door, her expression already hardening.
"It can never be easy," she remarks.
"Nope." he agrees, setting the book down and darting to the door.
Staring out, his ears turn towards the door. Erath disappeared through as he hears heavy footfalls racing towards them.
Erath crashes through, followed by a young human woman dressed all in green.
"Erath!" he calls, "What happened?"
Irelia slides out of the library, blades at the ready.
"No clue!" Erath shouts back, looking about frantically.
"Who is this?" Irelia demands, looking at the girl.
"Akali, I should be asking you both that. You're in my home." the woman returns.
"You're Kinkou?" Irelia asks, a hopeful look crossing her face.
"Yeah…who are you?" Akali returns.
"Irelia," she states.
"Oh, you're that famous Navori," Akali notes.
"Rakan." the vastaya offers, looking down the hallway before them with narrowed eyes.
"Right, so why are an Ionian warrior, a vastaya, and a Noxian scrounging around here?" Akali demands.
Another haunting wail cuts off any response.
"Hold that thought," Rakan states, drawing his blade and resting his pistol overtop it.
Irelia draws her blades, which float like a halo behind her back, Akali nodding in approval, while Erath drops to a knee, sighting his rifle.
"What is it?" Erath asks, looking at the others.
"Some wraith or another, it might have followed us here," Irelia notes.
The unseen creature let out one last scream, this one lengthy and hair-raising, and a gust of air channeled towards them from down the hall, buffeting their clothes and hair.
And beneath their feet, far below, something immense shifts, the boards creaking and whining in response.
"Or it was already here." Rakan amends, looking to Akali.
"We kept weapons, artifacts, and important lore below." Akali states, "If there is something down there, it's new."
A door opens, drawing all of their attention towards the hall.
Stumbling out, an acolyte turns to face them, their face set into a disturbingly wide smile.
Another slumps out, moving on all fours, crawling low to the ground, tusks emerging from their cheeks.
More and more begin to filter out of their rooms, bodies contorting and shifting, growing fangs, over-long limbs, talons, and horns.
"Azakana," Akali breathes, "They're all Azakana."
"Wonderful," Rakan mutters, aiming his pistol at the nearest one, "I told you both this place didn't feel right."
Erath grimaces while Irelia falls into her battle stance, blades beginning to spin more quickly.
And as if in response to his comment, the floor shudders once more, and the possessed Kinkou charge in unison.
And scene!
What lies beneath the Kinkou Monastery?
What Screams for Our Heroes Blood.
Found out next time.
Next week, admittedly, however, is gonna be mainly Silvermere.
As always any comments, questions, and critiques are appreciated. This is VerBeeker, signing off!
