The Nullus Compendium vol. 0

Castor III

Sitting atop the hill, Castor felt a rush of contrasting emotions swell within him like the roaring of a far-off tempest. A glimmer of temptation danced with his rationality as he weighed the strategic benefits of pursuing Zellok's offer. What troubled him most was the inkling that there were unknown variables at play, that the newfound veins of bloodstone were only part of a broader, darker tapestry whose full pattern he had yet to discern. The mention of ruins, of an ancient race not resembling humans or any known species, had planted seeds of doubt that sprouted into towering trees of concern.

The mention of ancient ruins beneath the Salvan Desert was especially concerning. From what Normann had told him, it seemed that Zellok's men had encountered some kind of unknown threat while exploring the ruins. It was possible that they had stumbled upon an ancient, powerful magic that they couldn't comprehend. Or perhaps they had awoken something that was better left sleeping. Either way, Castor knew that he couldn't take the risk of sending his men into what could potentially be a trap.

As he considered his options, Castor heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. He turned to see Normann panting as he made his way up the hill.

"M'lord, I've alerted the men as you requested," Normann said between breaths. "They're waiting for your orders."

Castor nodded and stood up, folding the letter and tucking it into his pocket. "Thank you, Normann. I've made my decision. We're going to the Salvan Desert."

Normann's eyes widened in surprise. "Very good m'lord, if Zellok really has found a vein of bloodstone, it could mean a huge advantage for us."

"Definitely, my friend " Castor said. "But I can't shake the feeling that something is off about this whole situation. Zellok has a reputation for being deceitful and I don't want to risk sending our men into a trap. We'll need to be extra vigilant and expect the worst possible outcome."

Normann nodded, understanding. "I'll let the men know, m'lord."

As Normann hurried off to relay the orders, Castor couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of their troubles. There was a storm brewing on the horizon and he knew that it would take all of their strength and bravery to weather it.

Castor continued reading to learn that Zellok’s dead men were either sliced cleanly across the body from the neck down, or they had disappeared altogether, along with the body parts that were sliced off the others.

Zellok is the ruler of a civilization of a bird-like species, called the Tzu'mak, that have shared the land since the dawn of time. The capital of Zellok's kingdom is located in a mountain fortress surrounded by treetops. There is a legend that suggests all intelligent species on this world were brought here by some unknown means but the exact details of the story have been lost over time. Zellok is described as a treasonous and gluttonous swindler and is known for being untrustworthy.

It was completely unbelievable to Castor that Zellok was requesting the assistance of the Polaxi Empire. Trick or no trick, claims from this known liar needed to be investigated with his own eyes before committing any more than his own battalion towards such an expenditure.

Castor again cleared his mind, this time summoning his usual war-mount, a flying dreamwyrm. Summoning a dreamwyrm requires a great deal of skill and practice, as the creatures are notoriously fickle and difficult to control. Only the most talented and powerful mages are able to successfully call upon a dreamwyrm and bind it to their will.

The process of summoning a dreamwyrm begins with the preparation of a special ritual space, usually located in a secluded area surrounded by powerful wards and protective spells. The summoner then enters a deep meditative state, focusing their mind and energy on the task at hand.

As the summoner begins the incantation, they must call upon the spirits of the dream realm, inviting them to manifest in the physical world. This is a delicate and dangerous process, as the spirits of the dream realm are unpredictable and often hostile to those who seek to call upon them.

If the summoner is successful, a dreamwyrm will slowly begin to materialize within the ritual space, its spectral form swirling and shifting as it takes on a more solid form. The summoner must then use all of their skill and will to bind the dreamwyrm to their will, establishing a bond that will allow them to control and command the creature.

Once the bond is established, the dreamwyrm will become a powerful ally, able to fly great distances and traverse the planes of existence with ease. However, the summoner must always be careful to maintain the bond, as a dreamwyrm that is allowed to break free of its constraints can be a dangerous and destructive force.

The wyrm had pale, gray skin with large, round eyes and large white fangs that stuck out at odd angles from its gaping mouth. It looked almost like a serpent of some sort that belonged in the sea or deep within the sands. However, it appeared to exist entirely within a spectral cocoon that changed shape with it as it moved. Both citizens and soldiers stopped to stare in awe whenever Castor passed. The wyrm let out a screech as Castor mounted the beast to speed down the hill towards the camp.

As Castor approached the camp on his mount, he slowed the animal's pace and conjured an eye of purple flame overhead, the sigil of the Empire. The legion of troops standing at attention in the camp waited for his command, their faces serious and focused. Castor dismounted from his mount, a powerful and majestic steed and walked towards the men, his own expression, grave. He knew that whatever lay ahead would be dangerous and he wanted to make sure that his men were prepared for whatever challenges they might face.

Castor approached the men, he spoke in a calm but serious tone. "Men," he said, "Zellok the Oppressor claims some strange tales today, disturbing things, if true. I intend to find out the truth of these claims for myself, the journey may be perilous and the tale may be a complete fabrication and waste of everyone's time. Because of this, I will give leave to any soldier who wishes to return to their home but I implore you to see this out with me, for if true, spells uncertain times for us all. Not simply just for the Empire but for all of Elios."

The soldiers in Castor's battalion were shifting their feet and mumbling amongst themselves about Stubbs the Butcher because they were afraid of him. His reputation as a brutal executioner had spread far and wide and many of the soldiers feared that they would soon be facing him on the battlefield.

Castor listened as the soldiers whispered rumors about Stubbs' cruelty and how he enjoyed inflicting pain on his prisoners. They spoke of how he would stop at nothing to extract a confession and how he would even cut off his own fingers in order to get what he wanted.

Stubbs the butcher was known throughout the land as a ruthless executioner, feared by all who knew of his brutal methods. It was said that he derived pleasure from inflicting pain and that he had a particular talent for extracting confessions from even the most stubborn of prisoners.

Despite his fearsome reputation, however, Castor was not intimidated by Stubbs. He had faced many men like him in the past and he knew that behind every monster was a man with weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

What set Stubbs apart from other executioners, however, was the extent of his cruelty. He was said to be so bloodthirsty that he once cut off his own fingers in order to gain a confession. Such tales only served to further increase the dread that he inspired in the hearts of men.

Despite all this, Castor remained undaunted. He was a seasoned warrior, a leader and he was not afraid to stand up against even the most vicious of foes. He wasn't afraid to bring an end to Stubbs' reign of terror and to restore justice to a land that had been plagued by violence and oppression for far too long.

The men looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Some of them had families at home that they wanted to protect, while others were eager for the chance to prove themselves in battle. Castor waited patiently, allowing them time to consider their options. After a moment of hesitation, a few of the men stepped forward and announced their intention to return home. Castor nodded gravely, understanding their decision.

The rest of the men stood firm, as one man bellowed, "I stand with you Commander!" They were willing to follow Castor into whatever danger lay ahead, even if it meant facing Zellok the Oppressor himself. Castor couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and loyalty towards these men, who were willing to risk everything for the sake of their Empire.