A triad congregates at the roof
of the world, Kain; a plot to twist the land, to shape the world. North
is where your vengeance lies.
Path to Dark Eden
signpost for Uschtenheim:
In my travels, I learned much about
the legend of Janos Audron. Here, in this quaint pastoral village
of Uschtenheim, that dark enemy was born. Janos preyed upon its peasants
until he was finally hunted down and executed.
Seeing a mutated
The poor wretch was warped beyond
recognition. To think that it was once human.
Dark Eden’s strange creatures:
Such strange creatures that had been
spawned by this dark magic; things half insect and half mammal - human
torsos grafted onto abominations of the flesh. Sick as it was, I
could not help but admire its creator’s ingenuity.
Your magic energy recovers more
quickly, for our blood enhances.
If it could be said that a land
descended into madness, ‘twould be an accurate account of Dark Eden. A
garden of horrors, seeded with sick perversion of nature’s design.
I knew that this Dark Eden I had
trespassed upon would continue to grow, until all of Nosgoth was consumed.
magic shell of Dark Eden:
Magic seethed and shifted.
I watched the dome of energy as it expanded, absorbing and recreating,
consuming life and leaving behind only a twisted parody.
Encountering precipitation that has been warped
by Circle magic:
From the heavens, the tears of angels danced around me in a frenzy of
the magic shell:
I passed through the wall unharmed.
It seemed the magic only preyed on things that were alive and pure.
Or, perhaps it simply decided that I was twisted enough.
castle from a distance:
A tower stood in the distance.
From its apex spewed the vortex of energy that shaped the lands below.
The surface of the castle belied
its interior; for it was far larger inside than out. With the powers
the Circle had at its disposal, ‘twould have been simple to distort space
to accommodate this strange structure.
The sorcerer’s sanctuary, his laboratory.
Inside was all manner of items arcane: pickled bodies, dissected
corpses, both man and beast, and metal constructs that heaved arcs of energy
into the air. I sensed more than one force being manipulated in this
Strange. Rarely did a sorcerer
condescend to work with others.
‘Tis a spell worthy of the Necromancer
himself. This allows me to dissect a creature’s soul from its vessel
of flesh. For these poor wretches, only oblivion awaits.
How convenient. This armor,
wrought with the blood of noblemen, drains the blood from my enemies for
me, leaving me to focus on the slaughter at hand.
the three sorcerers:
Ah, not one but three - DeJoule
the Energist, Bane the Druid, and Anarcrothe the Alchemist. How considerate
of them to hasten my search.
So, the scourge of the Circle has
arrived . . .!
Fear him not, Bane - he is but a
whelp; his soul is ours for the taking.
Don’t be ridiculous! Malek!
To our aid!
Damn you, Alchemist! I had
not come this far only to have my quarry escape!
Kain uses the
ring to summon Vorador; Malek confronts his old enemy:
Vengeance! Vengeance for my
eternity of suffering!
Whelp! As if you knew what
eternity was! Grovel before your true master.
Never! I’ll hack you from
crotch to gizzard and feed what’s left of you to your brides . . .
Kain gives pursuit to the fleeing sorcerers. A fierce battle ensues between Malek and Vorador.
As Vorador clashed against Malek,
I gave pursuit to the fleeing wizards DeJoule and Bane . . .
I danced their dance. When
the time came, they would dance upon my sword!
His magic is weak!
He is an affront to Nature itself,
it is our duty to purify him!
Burn! Wretched vampire!
As Kain defeats
each Guardian, he picks up the token:
The antler headdress had broken
in the fight, but power still resided in its ivory form.
||The antler headdress had sustained
some damage during battle - dark cracks sullied the ivory bone.
The cloak was made from an alloy
akin to lead: heavy and malleable, woven into fine links. The energy
she controlled was stored in this garment.
||The cloak of DeJoule is fashioned
from a strange substance, dense yet pliant. It served to both gather
and shield the sorceress from the forces of energy she commanded.
I found Malek’s helmet amongst the
scattered remnants of his armor, whole and intact. Vorador had finally
laid his old adversary to rest.
||Malek’s helmet, crowned with a plume
of braided hair, torn from the scalps of his victims.