Session 3: The Obelisk
Tizenket – Level 1 Huntress, Female Human
Ulrich – Level 1 Cataphract, Male Human
Karsas – Level 1 Barbarian, Male Human
Eliza – Level 1 Witch, Female Human
Highsun 3, 2522
As the players leave the Gharnshyn village behind, the landscape begins to change. The golden dunes that they have seen for days now gradually give way to an otherworldly landscape — a vast salt flat stretching endlessly in every direction. The ground beneath their feet is pale and cracked, shimmering faintly under the blazing sun.
The air grows cooler as the sun sinks lower, casting long shadows across the salt-crusted ground. The players decide to make camp. Tizenket steps away from the camp, bow in hand, her sharp eyes scan the horizon for any signs of danger. At first, the flat terrain offers little beyond the monotony of the salt flats, but then, something catches her eye.
Farther out in the flat, something rises out of the ground. An immense obelisk stands tall and imposing. The structure is smooth and angular, and unlike most obelisks, this one does not come to a point but ends in a flat, wide top. It also appears as if a long, red flag is attached to the top of the obelisk, flowing down the side of it. Tizenket alerts the others to her finding, and they use the last of the day’s sunlight to investigate.
As the party approaches the obelisk, the details of the towering structure come into focus. Its surface is smooth yet weathered, carved from some dark stone unknown to the players. The long, red “flag” they had seen from afar becomes something far more peculiar as they draw near. It is not a flag at all but a great cape of deep crimson, its fabric rippling and snapping in the evening breeze. The cape cascades down the side of the obelisk.
At the top of the obelisk stands a figure, impossibly still yet brimming with an unnerving presence. The humanoid form is skeletal and gaunt, its skin stretched taut over bones like ancient parchment. Its face is shrouded in shadow, but the sharp angles of its features and the hollow sockets where eyes should be suggest something otherworldly—and deeply unnatural. The figure’s arms are outstretched, bony hands pointed toward the heavens. Above, clouds churn slowly across the sky. The figure remains almost motionless except for the fluttering of its cape.
As the party nears the base of the obelisk, they are met with an eerie and grotesque sight. Surrounding the structure are hundreds upon hundreds of mummified animals, their desiccated forms carefully arranged in an unknown pattern. Birds with hollow eye sockets perch atop piles of smaller rodents, lions with snarling, dried-out faces lie alongside boar with leathery, cracked hides. The sheer number and variety of the preserved creatures is staggering, each silently watching the players as they make their way closer to the obelisk.
The group halts as the stillness of the area is broken. One of the mummified lions, its shriveled skin clinging tightly to its skeletal frame, begins to move. Its head creaks unnaturally to the side, and a low, guttural voice emerges from it’s maw:
“Bring me corpses, and I will control the weather for you.”
The players freeze, the sheer impossibility of the moment sending a chill down their spines. The lion does not move again, its head now motionless as though it had never stirred, but the voice lingers in the air.
The players begin to speak in hushed tones, struggling to comprehend what they’ve just witnessed. Could it be true? Could this monstrous obelisk and it’s master truly hold control over the weather?
The players return to their camp, shaken by the experience, but curious at if what the dead creature said was true. Perhaps they could try it out… what’s the worst that could happen?