Regaleon: The Forgotten Knight

The group had expected an ancient ruined temple the moment they stepped through the massive stone door. Yet, the instant they crossed the threshold, what they had anticipated proved so vastly different, so utterly incongruous with what stood before them, that all nine were left speechless.

The first time a few of them had entered this chamber, the first thing to greet them had been an ancient air, a palpable aura that seemed to whisper of untold centuries and forgotten history.

Now, however, there was not even a trace of that antiquity or solemnity. Instead, something else had taken its place—something pungent, filthy, obscene, and revolting.

Their footsteps echoed faintly against ancient stone as they stared at the sight before them, their eyes filled with profound shock and utter disbelief, resembling the expression of a man who had just caught his wife in the arms of another man upon their matrimonial bed.

It was almost as though what they were seeing was not the same place that had once inspired awe and reverence within their minds.

Had they not followed the very same path they had taken during their first visit, they might have concluded that they had somehow wandered into an entirely different location.

Gone was the magnificent archaeological site that had once housed the Anima which nearly claimed the lives of Regaleon, Valmyr, Vaelorin, and Kaeloris.

In its place was a putrid cesspool of filth and decay, something so thoroughly disgusting that even the most depraved corner of a monster’s den might have seemed preferable by comparison.

The once-orderly temple floor had been transformed into a grotesque breeding ground.

Dark stains coated the ancient stones, discarded bones and scraps of rotting flesh littered the pathways, while countless small creatures scurried between the fallen pillars and broken masonry.

Some gnawed at remains, others clawed through heaps of refuse, and several simply crawled over one another in a ceaseless frenzy, turning the sacred ruin into something that resembled an enormous nest built by creatures with no concept of cleanliness.

Yet the sight was only one part of their torment because the smell was considerably worse.

It was an horrendous mixture of several rotten carcasses and decomposing flesh, as though the contents of a hundred forgotten graves had been thrown into an old witch’s rusted crucible and boiled together for the express purpose of creating a stench capable of offending the heavens themselves.

The odor was thick and palpable, overwhelming the once-fresh and turbid scent of the ruin before settling in their throats like the bitter aftertaste of some poisonous draught that stubbornly refused to be swallowed.

Indeed, the moment they entered, the smell had been the first thing to assault them. Their faces twisted instinctively, fingers rising to pinch their nostrils as though such a futile gesture could somehow deter the olfactory abomination invading their senses.

Unfortunately, their heightened perceptions made the experience considerably worse. And then there was the sound to further worsen their already miserable experience.

Clicks filled the atmosphere, ricocheting from one fallen temple wall to another and creating a discordant symphony that sounded like a cacophony specially composed in the abyss to torment the souls of the damned.

The incessant clicking grated against their ears like sandpaper dragged across rotten wood. With senses far sharper than those of ordinary humans, the group could hear every individual snap and echo, making the experience particularly grating and adding another layer of torment to their suffering.

At least Sylveris had it easy, being the only non Awakener amongst them but even that didn’t spare her ears from the discordance reigning within the ruined temple.

They observed the nightmare before them in silence until Veyrath finally broke it.

”What in Aetherium’s cursed name is this?”

His voice carried the peculiar combination of shock and profound bewilderment he was experiencing.

Even now, the failed Alchemist could not decide whether he should be disgusted, alarmed, or simply impressed by the sheer audacity of whatever had happened here, and that uncertainty somehow made the entire ordeal even more unsettling.

His voice sounded unusually small within the vast chamber. The words drifted through the foul atmosphere before being swallowed by the incessant clicking and scuttling, yet the others heard him clearly.

Before the auburn-haired Alchemist could say anything else, Aelric abruptly turned toward him.

”Hey... Quiet already.”

The command was low, but unmistakably stern.

Aelric raised one finger to his lips in a universal gesture for silence. The sternness within his green eyes immediately erased whatever humor or seriousness Veyrath had been preparing to voice.

The failed Alchemist swallowed a mouthful of saliva and instinctively shuddered before turning his attention back toward the creatures swarming across the temple floor like vermin fleeing a burning granary.

They looked like a bizarre fusion of rats and bats.

Frankly, from the group’s vantage point, it was difficult to determine whether they were more rat than bat or more bat than rat, and that ambiguity only made their appearance more disconcerting.

The creatures were small, grotesque mammals, each roughly the size of a large house cat, though their bodies appeared puffed and strangely disproportionate.

Their frames resembled those of oversized, unnaturally lean rats, but leather wings extended from their forelimbs and stretched along their sides, allowing them to scramble, glide, and occasionally flutter across the chamber.

Their bodies were covered in short, dark-grey fur, with thinner patches around their faces, ears, and limbs. The creatures moved through the temple in a frenetic swarm of activity, scurrying across stones, climbing over debris, squeezing into cracks, and occasionally beating their wings in abrupt, disjointed motions.

Their elongated heads possessed unmistakable rat-like features: pointed snouts, constantly twitching whiskers, and two prominent incisors that looked sharp enough to gnaw through metal.

Yet their bat-like characteristics were equally pronounced.

Their ears were enormous, thin, and unmistakably bat-like, rotating independently above their heads as though they were living sonar dishes. Their eyes, by contrast, were remarkably small and seemed poorly suited to the dimly illuminated temple.

In fact, there was little indication that their vision played any meaningful role in navigating the chamber.

If the group’s conjecture was correct, then the incessant clicking echoing throughout the ruin was likely produced by some form of echolocation, allowing the creatures to perceive their surroundings through reflected sound.

The thought alone was unsettling.

More disturbing still was the manner in which they behaved. None appeared particularly concerned with the group’s presence, yet that did not make their indifference reassuring.

They moved with the mindless industry of creatures accustomed to inhabiting places where death was ordinary and intrusion meant little.

Every few moments, one would pause, tilt its head, rotate those enormous ears, and emit a series of rapid clicks before continuing its frantic scurrying.

Others responded in kind, creating a strange chain of sounds that travelled across the chamber. It was almost like listening to a conversation conducted in a language that consisted entirely of clicks, rustles, and wingbeats.

Regaleon watched them carefully, realizing that their grotesque appearance was not the most concerning aspect of these creatures. There was something organized about their movements, something that suggested they were not merely feeding.

They were freakish creatures, twisted amalgamations of two familiar beasts that nature itself seemed to have rejected, and in some ways they appeared even more grotesque than most Animas and Netherytes the group had encountered during their perilous journey through the Nether Lands...