MARUU

Ellery, Iscariot, Syyrin, and Flint are all members of a cult following Myrkul, living at a temple founded and run by Ellery and Syyrin. the cult is fairly passive and respectful of death, but is slowly being invaded by worships of Cyric, a traitorous and power-hungry god of traitorous and power-hungry followers.

[full disclosure for my readers who know dnd: while myrkul and cyric do come from canon sources, we did not stick that closely to the actual dnd canon and sorta half winged it. forgive us for our inconsistencies]

the worshippers of Cyric are lead by a man called Mabuz (aka the curator, the antagonist from divinity's end, who we did have to give a name for this). Mabuz is slowly converting Myrkul's followers to his cause, as well as bringing in followers of his own. this is how Iscariot joins the temple, brought in as muscle in Mabuz's plans for takeover.

Iscariot is slowly losing faith in Cyric until one day he finds his magic disappears entirely. unsure what to do about it, he speaks to Ellery about his sudden loss in magic. Ellery offers him sympathy and understanding, telling him doubt and wavering are a natural part of faith, and that things will eventually work out for him. sympathy is a new experience for Iscariot, who finds this to be an incredibly important conversation, though it isn't enough to bring his magic back

shortly after this, Ellery receives a premonition. Ellery is a prophet, and his god gives him a vision about the end of the world—burning red skies, rains of ash, monsters loose on the world. he tells the cult about it, though with no intention to prevent it—their temple embraces death, and he sees no reason to interfere. even so, the temple residents are split about what the vision means

many of Myrkul's worshipers, such as Ellery, take it as a simple fact. the world will end, and this is basically just a heads-up from their god.

the scheming Cyric group, however, see an opportunity. they believe that, if they bring about the apocalypse, they can shape it, taking ultimate power in the new world and ruling over it

they decide to cause the apocalypse by killing a god—specifically Myrkul. defeating death will grant them power beyond anything else, and this allows them to destroy the members of the temple who doubt their vision

they start this ritual process by killing Myrkul's prophet, Ellery

Mabuz gathers a small group of his supporters and meet Ellery alone in his office. they propose what they call a ritual in honor of Myrkul, sending his most favored ahead to help him in his grand task of welcome the entire world's population. he lists a few of the many members of the cult who have swapped sides, none of which are the people in the room with them, and says all of them are in support of this ritual plan

Ellery is... unconvinced

despite Ellery's position and his faith, he really is afraid to die. besides, Myrkul is patient, and he sees no reason to cut any life short. Mabuz doesn't really listen—he doesn't believe anything he says anyway, he just needs Ellery dead

they argue, and their argument is loud enough to draw Flint's attention. Flint doesn't catch most of it, but Mabuz says fine, Ellery, if you don't want to help us complete our ritual, we'll just ask other faithful members, like Flint here.

Ellery recognizes the threat for what it is and caves, agreeing to the ritual so long as none of his friends are hurt

Flint can tell there's something more happening, but despite his constant snooping, he doesn't figure out exactly what they'd been arguing about that night or what the ritual will be

Syyrin is the one who makes the blade. Mabuz tells her to make the blade for Ellery, but doesn't tell her the occasion. she consults Ellery on the design. despite their usual easy trust and partnership, Ellery doesn't want to tip Syyrin off as to why she's making the weapon or what's going to happen to him, as he doesn't want her to get hurt trying to save him

though Flint and Syyrin both know something is up, neither think to put their heads together about it, so they're never able to get answers

Ellery is weirdly quiet during the next few days. he spends a lot of time near Syyrin and Flint, though doesn't say much. he's convinced, on some level, that this is his own fault, and that he's to blame for his and his friends' lives being in danger. this wouldn't be happening if he hadn't talked about the vision he'd received

after a week, the blade is complete, and the ritual proceeds

(though Mabuz lets Flint roam free despite his sticking his nose in everything all the time to keep Ellery from going back on their agreement, the day before the ritual, Flint sillies a little too close to the sun and finds out what the plan is. Mabuz detains Flint before Flint can tell the others Ellery is going to be killed today. neither Ellery nor Syyrin realize he’s been captured—Syyrin only finds out after Ellery is already dead)

Iscariot is the executioner. he thinks this must be a test of faith from Cyric—if he can kill the man who showed him compassion, he must be able to affirm his oath, and he'll get his magic back

Ellery doesn't want to die. though he's comfortable with death, the act of dying terrifies him. he tries his absolute best not to show it, though, as he doesn't want his friends to fight and get themselves hurt

after Ellery is killed, Mabuz announces the ritual's true purpose: weakening Myrkul in order to destroy him. in another week's time, they'll attempt a second, larger ritual, sacrificing many to gain enough power to kill Myrkul. everyone has two choices: accept Cyric, or be among the sacrifices

(which, L for Flint. he's already on the list)

Mabuz leaves Ellery’s body on the altar. the blade is left in his chest. if anyone touches it, they'll be assumed a Myrkul worshipper and locked away for slaughter in the coming ritual

in the week between Ellery's death and the full ritual, Syyrin manages to lie her way into convincing Mabuz she's down with Cyric, and she begins planning an escape for herself and Flint. other sacrifices they've collected/readied are brought in, including Mar. Mar and Flint meet in their week of captivity, though they can't talk that much in different cells. Iscariot's magic does not come back, and he realizes his test didn't pay off

the first sacrifice in the second ritual is Mar. as a life cleric, she stands out as one of the most powerful sacrifices. it’s again Iscariot who does it, pulling the same weapon Ellery was killed with out of his (still there) corpse to drive her through

as she dies, Mar casts revivify. she intends to revive herself, which does work, though far better than she intends it to: Mar revives not only herself, but also accidentally revives Ellery, as his body is still. there. on the altar

(there's only one soul, though, split over two bodies) (deadsea soulmates forever babyyyyy)

the confusion and chaos is immediate. Mabuz isn't really sure what to do about his sacrifice getting back up, but Mar bolts before he can decide. Mabuz and a few of his cultists run after her in an attempt to salvage their ritual.

Iscariot does not follow, because his faith isn't really in the Cyric worship thing anymore, anyway

a moment after the majority of their group runs off, Ellery sits up. he's a lot slower, his body having been rotted and worm-eaten for a week, and he's incredibly dazed. his revival leaves him without memories, and he's not really sure where he is, what's going on, or even his own name

(he's come back wrong in a lot of ways. one of his eyes is missing, eaten by maggots. he doesn't breathe anymore, and his body has started to rot, leaving him with several patches of exposed bone. before his death, he'd spent all his time in Autumn mode, with orange hair and skin, in reference to his autumnal god. after his revival, he seems to be stuck in winter, with white hair and blueish-white skin)

Iscariot sees Ellery is back and is like oh shit?

Iscariot had been having a crisis of faith, and was able to manage it only through belief in Ellery’s words. he thought killing Ellery for his god would bring his magic back, and Ellery's death only left him feeling more lost.

seeing Ellery back, Iscariot believes in him more than any god

so. he helps Ellery up and decides he's going to protect him, get him to safety. and he looks to Ellery and asks, where do we go?

Ellery has no idea what’s going on. he remembers his god and his faith, but that's... about it. he has full amnesia for his own personal life. he can’t remember where he is or what’s going on. he doesnt know who the man helping him is, though he can see Iscariot wears the emblems of his god, so he trusts him.

Ellery knows there's a hole in his chest—not just the literal stab wound, but something deeper. some part of him is missing—“half his soul is gone, he thinks. his heart is outside his body, and he can feel it moving farther and farther away from him

Ellery follows that feeling, drawn to and seeking out Mar without even really knowing what he's looking for. Iscariot assumes Ellery knows some hidden passage out and follows

while Mar is running/hiding, Syyrin sees the commotion and slips back down to the cells where all the other sacrifices were held. she releases Flint, since she'd been planning his escape anyway. she also frees the other sacrifices-to-be as well, trying to cause a distraction so the two of them can escape. neither of them know about the revivals, they just know something went wrong

Flint and Syyrin had created a hide away, a little secret fort only the two of them knew about. it has a path to the surface and some supplies which Syyrin had been gathering over the last week to prepare their escape, which they begin packing for in earnest with the assorted supplies Syyrin had managed to squirrel away

(this isn't relevant but it's important to me you know this: in both of our two CTM monuments, CJ and Smurg have built weird little secret bases in the walls. i need you to know this is a reference to their secret little mole holes. neither Chris nor Maruu noticed them making these either time but i did and i need to expose them for these)

Ellery stumbles blindly to Mar, who was already panicking quite a bit, and is now panicking more because there’s the corpse and the guy who just killed her. Ellery is immediately struck by the feeling he knows her, though he doesn't know why. this is the heart he was looking for, he's sure, and he starts trying to calm her down. he says he’s not trying to die again and Iscariot says he doesn’t really believe in this faith anyway. Ellery also explains they're trying to escape, and he'd like to help her get away from here

Mar feels that same tug Ellery does, a feeling of emptiness that disappears when he's near. she decides to flee with the two of them, despite her wariness, because she'll be safer in a group of three than by herself

the three of them try to flee, but between an amnesiac, a new and disillusioned cultist, and a sacrifice, literally none of them know where they’re going, especially with so much chaos. the newly-freed sacrifices are running and fighting in the temple, and the Cyric cultists trying to recapture and slay them. the execution trio are kind of just... sneaking and wandering and hoping for a lucky break

their wandering leads them by Flint and Syyrin's base, and Flint and Syyrin see Ellery and another sacrifice and pull the three of them inside. Syyrin explains their escape plan, they get Mar's sacrifice wound and Ellery's wack rot wounds bandaged, and Ellery and Mar get a less bloody change of clothes. Ellery is, again, unusually quiet, but Syyrin figures it's shock and takes the lead in readying their escape

out in the temple, some of the ritual actually does happen. the Cyric cultists manage to hunt down and kill some of their intended sacrifices, furthering their gathering of power. even the sacrifices who kill cultists in self defense accidentally contribute to the ritual’s completion, gathering enough blood for Mabuz to recite his incantation and attack Myrkul

but Mar did fuck up the ritual. Myrkul isn't killed, but shattered, pieces of him scattered across the world

Syyrin and Flint lead the group through the hideaway's secret exit to the surface, allowing all five of them to escape. they emerge into the world to find the world halfway to ruin, the apocalypse halfway started. burning red skies, rains of ash, the distant cries of monster. this, Ellery actually recognizes—this is the apocalypse he saw in his vision

the five of them now have a new mission: find and collect the pieces of Myrkul to put Myrkul back together. revive him and set the world right again. this setup is based on the CTM map format—Capture the Monument maps require players to make their way through different areas and collect special wool (or discs, in the map we played) from the end of each area to bring back to their monument, and players win once they’ve collected all the wool

(CTM stands for “Capture the Myrkul” trust)

His hair seems to be white. It strikes him as odd, but he doesn’t know what other color it would be. It’s stained with old blood and cave dirt, sticking in places to his back and his face. It pools around the pile of gore as he coughs, but he can’t be bothered to move it off the ground. His eyesight feels off, too—limited, maybe?—though he isn’t quite sure what’s wrong with it. His limbs feel numb, tingly, as if they’ve been asleep a long time.

His chest stings. Pain shocks through him with every choking cough, and the cavity of his ribs itself feels achingly empty, as though his heart is gone from it. He can feel it in the distance, only growing further away.

He’s cold. Freezing cold. If it weren’t for the mess of blood and spit on the stone below him, he’d assume he'd frozen to death.

A hand claps his shoulder. He makes some half-strangled noise of shock and the touch eases off, moving down toward his back.

“You’re alright, just breathe,” says the voice above him, assumably that belonging to the owner of the hand. It occurs to him only now that he hasn’t breathed even once since waking—making a concentrated effort to do so sends him coughing up dried blood again. The hand returns, smoothing up and down his back.

“I know you’re struggling, but we can’t stay here,” the voice says. He makes some noise of acknowledgement, chokes up one last maggot, and rolls back onto his back.

The man leaning over him is... he’s a hobgoblin, with red skin, short hair, and a strap of black fabric tied around his head. He’s dressed in heavy armor, and he rests one hand on his shoulder.

He doesn’t recognize the man kneeling above him, nor does he know how to read his expression. Worry, maybe…? He’ll go with that.

The skeletal armor the man wears, though, he does know—a symbol of Myrkul, god of death. His god, some dusty piece of knowledge tells him, the first fact he manages to retain about himself.

Looking down at himself, he finds he wears the same armor, though his own shirt is stained with blood around the chest. The man’s armor is stained, too, dark with blood at his hands and wrists.

The sign of a warrior, the mark of the slain. Perhaps he had to fight to reach him? He isn’t sure. They can’t be enemies, at least—they’re dressed the same.

He props himself onto his elbows. Seeing him struggle, the man wraps his arm around his shoulders. It’s a little less bloody after it passes through his hair, though he can’t find it in him to worry about it.

With his other hand, the man takes one of his hands. Both touches are warm, even with the layer of armor—warmer than the stone, at least, and the ice in his veins.

He looks at the hand clasped in the man’s and flexes it, stretching his fingers, just to see if he can. Their movements are jerky, pins and needles in every one, but they move all the same.

The man snickers in his ear, watching the test of muscles.

“Surprised to be alive, huh?” the man asks. He frowns.

“Was I not supposed to be?”

The man doesn’t answer that, which he supposes is answer enough.

“Can you stand?” the man asks. He doesn’t know, but he nods anyway. The man removes his hand from his shoulders, then pulls him to his feet. They’re unstable, as expected, but the man hasn’t pulled away his hand.

He ducks down, speaking low. For the first time, his tone sounds urgent.

“Alright, Ellery. We need to run before they notice you’re up. Where are we going?”

When Ellery meets the man’s eye, he sees… faith. He believe Ellery knows where they’re going, and he’ll follow whatever direction Ellery points in.

Ellery knows his name because the man says it. He knows this place not at all, though some distant piece of his muddy brain tells him this place hosts the temple of Myrkul. Why would they run from here? Is this not their home?

The sounds of battle still rage, the clashing of metal and the screaming of strangers ringing down the tunnels and caves. Ellery still has no clue why they fight, nor does he know what side he should be on. He doesn’t know the man at his side, nor does he understand what left him in this state. He doesn’t know where he is or why he’s here, let alone where they should go—his skull feels like it’s simply been tipped over and emptied, stuffed with cobwebs in his sleep.

Ellery swats at the dusty old web in his brain, chasing out the useless fluff. Okay, so he remembers nothing from before. It’s no use focusing on things he doesn’t understand. What does he know?

His name is Ellery. Myrkul is his god. He can’t stay here. The man beside him is looking for his guidance.

Ellery looks up, at the stranger. He’s tall and stocky and dressed like a warrior, adorned with heavy armor made to look like intimidating bone. At his waist is a sword still dripping with fresh blood, across his back is a heavy two-handed axe.

This man is… safe, Ellery thinks. Ellery trusts him. He’ll protect Ellery, even if their path out becomes dangerous.

Ellery feels… empty. Unfinished. Cold.

He’s aware, distantly, that a piece of him is missing, and he can feel it as it travels further and further away.

His heart is moving, and he won’t feel complete until he finds it. He looks down a dark tunnel, at the path he’s sure his heart has followed.

“This way,” he says, “We go this way.”

A few more turns lead him deeper into the temple’s caves, further and further from the open sky. The world around them only grows darker, until there’s almost no light at all. Ellery has to stick out a hand in front of him to keep from walking into anything, though he at least knows there’s no longer any danger; The sounds of battle fade, the duo getting further and further from the fight.

They turn a corner and see light, a small, flickering flame somewhere down the tunnel. Ellery picks up the pace—he’s certain that’s his heart, whatever it is, and he pulls his companion along with him toward the source.

He hears her before he sees her, a muffled sniffling that seems to be coming from a small storage room hollowed out at the end of the cavern. He pushes the door open and the sound stops, but not before his eyes land on the woman crouched down in the back.

She’s short, that he can tell even when she’s sitting down. The front of her dress is stained with fresh blood, dark against the light fabric, though he can’t yet see the wound it originates from.

She’s crying. Thick tears roll down her face, almost glittering in the low light of the flame from her staff.

She feels familiar. Looking at her feels like returning home—it’s the first thing that’s made sense since he’d opened his eyes. The empty feeling in his chest fills with something almost warm, and he feels almost settled for the first time since opening his eyes. He doesn’t know her name, but he knows her. He has to.

When she meets Ellery’s eyes, she quickly wipes her tears away, smearing her face with blood. She scrambles to her feet, trying to hide the vulnerability Ellery had already seen.

When eyes flick even higher, above Ellery’s head, her whole expression hardens. She snatches up her staff, brandishing the flaming end toward Ellery and his companion. Ellery throws up his arms in surrender—his companion wraps an arm around him and pulls him back, away from her threat.

“What do you want?” she asks, “I won’t let you bastards kill me again.”

“We aren’t going to hurt you,” Ellery says.

“How did you find me?” she demands.

“The— the pull,” Ellery says. He grabs at his own chest, trying to explain without words, “The— you felt it, right? The empty feeling. It’s gone now.”

She narrows her eyes, staring at Ellery, but she doesn’t refute it.

“You felt it too,” Ellery says, more certain.

Her hand tightens on her staff. Whatever she may have felt, it doesn’t seem to have the same sway on her as it does Ellery.

“I don’t know what kind of weird ritual you did…”

“We didn’t,” Ellery says. He pauses, then amends, “I don’t think.”

“You’re the one who did a weird spell,” his companion says. Her suspicion turns to a full on glare as she turns it on him, eyes burning hotter than the fire in her hands. The arm around his chest tenses, and in his peripheral he sees his companion adjust his grip on his sword.

“You,” she spits, “Come any closer and I’ll—”

“We aren’t going to hurt you,” Ellery says again. He grabs onto the arm over his chest with one hand, using the other to push the blade down. The metal is frigid, and he pulls his hand away quickly. “I know you’re probably scared and confused. You want to get out of here.”

“I’m not scared,” she says, “You won’t catch me again. I’m not dying here.”

“Okay. Just lost, then,” Ellery says. “We’re trying to leave, too.”

“And? Leave then. Leave me alone,” she says.

“It isn’t safe. Three fighters are better than one. Especially when we don’t know what we’ll find out there,” Ellery says.

“I’m not leaving with him,” she says.

“He won’t hurt you. He just wants us to get out saf—”

“Won’t hurt me?!” she asks “He killed me! He— he’s still holding the damn sword!”

Ellery looks down at the sword his companion’s been carrying. The blade is still red, though it’s only stained, rather than dripping.

Just like her clothes, Ellery realizes distantly.

…Did he kill her today?

What on earth happened before Ellery woke up?

“I was following orders,” he says.

“Brother,” she says, “And if you get orders to kill me again?”

“I won’t,” he says. The hand around Ellery’s chest tightens, just for a moment.

“Won’t kill me, or won’t get more orders?” she asks.

“No more orders,” he says.

“What makes you so sure? They chased me down. They’ll probably kill me again as soon as we see them,” she says.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not following a thing Mabuz says ever again,” he says. Who is that? Is that who they were fighting?

“Good for you. I don’t care,” she says, “Follow your orders somewhere else. Get away from me.”

“I… can’t,” Ellery says.

“What?” she asks.

“I can’t,” Ellery says again, “I’ll feel empty again. You’re— You felt it, I know you did. The aching.”

“Was that part of your ritual?” she accuses, “Tying us together?”

“I don’t know,” Ellery says.

“No,” Iscariot says, “I don’t know what you did, but neither of you were ever supposed to come back.”

“And you think that makes me want to go back out there with you people?” she asks, “How am I supposed to trust a thing you say? I’m not going out there to be slaughtered again.”

Ellery opens his mouth to argue, but she sniffles, rubbing harshly at her face again. Blood smears the corner of her eye, and she swears under her breath as iron stings in the corner of her vision.

“…Okay,” Ellery says.

“Okay?” she asks. Ellery nods.

“If you’re staying here,” Ellery taps his companion’s arm, signaling to let him go. He does, however much he hesitates, and Ellery takes a deliberate step forward, “So am I.”

“Ellery…” his companion warns, but Ellery takes another step forward. As hostile as she is, he just… can’t imagine her hurting him.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” Ellery says. His leg bangs into a box as he stumbles blindly ahead, though he ignores it entirely, closing the distance between himself and the woman with his heart in her chest.

When Ellery steps too close, she steps back, forcing her staff between them. His companion shouts, though Ellery puts up a hand to stop him.

Slowly, Ellery reaches up to the staff, grabbing onto it with one hand. He pulls it gently, moving it out of his way to take one more step.

The woman in front of him is a foot shorter than Ellery, with blue hair and blue skin. Her eyes are wide and bloodshot, and her skin is streaked with blood that hadn’t fully dried. In the middle of her sternum is a large wound, and Ellery knows if he were to look down, he’d see the same through his own heart.

“I don’t know what happened before I woke up,” Ellery says, holding out one hand for her to take, “But I don’t think I can live without you. Come with us?”

“What about him?” she asks, voice low.

“I trust him,” Ellery says, looking back over his shoulder. “He’ll keep me safe, which means he’ll keep you safe.”

Her hand is tight on her staff. The look in her eyes is uncertain, suspicious, shooting between Ellery and his companion at the door.

More than that, she looks… tired. Exhaustion lines the space under her eyes, and the arm holding her staff trembles with the effort of holding it out for too long.

“Please,” he whispers.

Slowly, warily, and no less suspicious, she takes Ellery’s hand. Her touch is warm, and under her palm, Ellery can feel her pulse. Even hammering as it is, it calms him down.

By the slight easing of tension in her shoulders, Ellery would like to think she feels the same.