Chrysalis
chapter-1101

Let it be written here and in no other volume. In these pages, find the collected wisdom of the Cults on the subjects of our reverence.

This page deals with the domains of the Ancients and what little is known. Though none have seen these hallowed places with their own eyes, shards of information have been gathered in other ways, through interrogation of monsters who may have some connection to the Great Ones, through examination of ancient documents or forensic inspection of records provided by our founders.

Despite the best efforts of our collective Cults, by far the best source is the interpretation of dreams.

Through the centuries, high ranking members across Pangera have experienced strangely detailed dreams of the Ancients and their domains. Only when networked together did we arrive at the realisation that these may be more than just figments conjured by imagination, but rather glimpses at a reality we should never see.

Yarrum the Eternal Worm

In the realm of Yarrum, there is only the worm.

Theorazzn of the Decaying World

A sense of the Decaying World can be seen in the fifth stratum, which, for unknown reasons, the Ancient coloured with its touch many years ago. That blighted place is inimical to life, yet the realm of Theorazzn is beyond even that, a nightmare realm where the air itself drips with deadly toxins. Without proper protection, living creatures are melted to nothing in seconds, decaying into bones that last less than a minute before rotting away.

Syssernix the Dark Spear

Evershade, a realm of almost total and perpetual darkness, is where Syssernix holds domain. Teeming with sightless monsters of terrible power that swim through the shadows like fish in the sea. In the deepest and darkest pools, Syssernix makes her resting place, a coral fortress that none dare enter.

The Living Bog is the realm in which Morribolg makes its home. Saturated in Water and Earth mana, the Bog is bursting with life, and death. The roots of trees curl around bones of long dead monsters, locking them away from reclamation by the Dungeon. Deep in the centre, Morribolg dwells, a living mound of mud that will never let go of anything it touches. Anything that lives within this realm suffers under the suffocating pressure the Ancient exerts.

Carriflare the Hell Flame

Dreams of Carriflare are dangerous. Even in sleep, several members of the Kindling Cult have had their eyes burned out, a terrible price to pay for a glimpse of this god. Within Allfire, Carriflare holds domain. A place of eternal flame, there is nothing within the place that does not burn, even mana. All monsters in this place have adapted to be either creatures of fire, or to survive whilst perpetually being seared by their environment.

Rigorite the Mountain Breaker

A world of metal. Iron mountains, steel rivers, tungsten trees, platinum grass, and other, rarer metals infused with mana make up the realm of Rigorite. A mountainous beast of irresistible strength, the Ancient cuts through its realm like a knife. None of the monsters, the most physically resistant in all the Dungeon, can resist the power of Rigorite. Named for the material of its construction, Metalforge breaks, but is never broken.

Tarriflyx the Hunger

A brother who glimpsed the realm of Tarriflyx awoke screaming to find they had gnawed off their own arm in their sleep. The aura of dreadful starvation that emanates from the Ancient has warped reality itself in this place, creating the Crags of Famine. A blasted wasteland of rock and rent stone, no monster who dwells within can ever be sated. They must fight and eat, always, lest their own stomachs gnaw them from the inside.

Within a crack in the earth, Tarriflyx dwells, ready to drag any who come too close into its dreadful maw.

Arconidem the Demon God

Arconidem resides within the Demon Palace, a grand edifice in which he sits on his living throne, surrounded by his court. Powerful demons each and every one, his court is sustained only by their proximity to the god, for they cannot hope to contest the monsters who spawn within those hallowed halls.

Zothoth Who Feasts on Sanity

All who have dreamt of the realm of Zothoth have gone mad. What little we know has been gathered through the dedicated work of the Cult of Asylum, interpreting the gibberings of those blessed with the vision to piece together a picture of this place. Described as Mind Spike, this realm is a twisted vision of madness. Ever shifting, ever warping, nothing remains the same for long. Atop the Spike, Zothoth makes her home, causing insanity to fall like rain.

Torra the Dread Dog

Wild and unbound, Torra roams the Hunting Grounds when awakened, an oppressive aura of pure terror gripping all unfortunate enough to come near. Dreamers who glimpse the Ancient are known to live in terror for the rest of their lives, screaming and flailing their limbs at the smallest bark. Torra is a solitary hunter with no pack, for no creature can remain in its presence without succumbing to the terror. Even the Hound Cult has no real clue what Torra looks like, since none can look upon it directly.

Gon the Sightless Freak

In the presence of Gon, none may see. Not even in dreams.

Yolesh the Ever Dying

The Ancients' Graveyard is home to Yolesh. Whether the Ever Dying was once defeated and turned into the heart of Undeath it has become, or if that is how it has always been, is unknown. The Ancient's all-consuming aura of death fills the Graveyard. Nothing can die in this place. Not truly. A dreamer saw a vision of himself battling a horror, losing a hand in the combat. The hand animated itself and skittered up his leg, attempting to choke him. In the presence of Yolesh, one would die forever, without ever finding true rest.

Lerrewyn the Grasping Tree

Visions of a lush, ripe, yet rotting forest surrounding an enormous willow have haunted the dreams of the Hanging Cult for centuries. In truth, these visions are a lie. The Willow is real, for that is Lerrewyn herself, the desiccated corpses of monsters drooping down, coiled in her vines. It is the forest that is the lie, for that is also Lerrewyn, her roots having forced their way into the plant monsters of her domain and enslaved them. The Creeping Forest is not an easy place to leave.

Horgran the Butcher

Arising from an ocean of blood, Horgran has raised the Fortress of Flesh. A place of endless gore, the monsters within delight in butchery, but none so much as Horgran. When awake, the Ancient stalks the cavernous halls, hacking apart whatever crosses their path. The Butcher seldom even eats, satisfied with the slaughter alone.

Perrianon of Blood

Winding, narrow veins connected to larger, blood soaked arteries tangled together into a maddened knot form Clotted Heart, the realm of Perrianon. A place of both life and death, the monsters of this place are warped by the contradiction at the heart of the Ancient who dominates them. All bleed, at all times. No ichor, blood or life sustaining substance will remain where it should be.

Kygar the Storm Bringer

The realm of Kygar is known as Stormcloud, for that is what it is. A roiling, boiling cloud charged with such power that anything drawing too close is blasted with lightning as thick as a tree trunk.

In the depths of the cloud, Kygar drifts, surrounded by a hurricane of lightning that follows the Ancient wherever it goes. Powerful creatures hunt within the storm, able to withstand the intense strikes or so swift that they can dodge them. Yet none can approach the Storm Bringer. Even asleep, Kygar is protected.

Ruminominex Shaper of Earth

The Great Mountain claimed by Ruminominex is always in flux, the stone bones deep within shifting according to the Ancient’s will.

Even when asleep, dirt and rock will mould themselves around Ruminominex, without any conscious effort on their part.

For this reason, the Great Mountain is a treacherous place to call home. There are no permanent roosts, or caves. At any moment, any tunnel can collapse upon its occupants with the force of a falling mountain. Only those who can survive the extreme pressures live here.

Braxxin who Froze the Sky

The titan known as Braxxin scrapes the roof of its own domain as it stands. From the crown of ice that rests atop the Ancient comes an aura of cold so powerful it permeates the entirety of the Ice Lands. Nothing may move within this realm, save Braxxin. There is no heat, there is no energy, even mana may freeze, falling still within the veins of the Dungeon.

What monsters live here have specialised to the environment, creatures of ice who lie dormant for centuries at a time, waking to hunt only when the Ancient sleeps.

Odren the Father of Monsters

The Cult of Odren, known as the Dungeon Cult, are responsible for the creation of this tome. It is we, who follow the Divine Call of the First, that have stitched the Cults of Pangera together into this, tenuous, cloth.

For that is His will.

To those few who Dream, Odren has appeared in many forms, no two the same. To some, he is a ravenous, enormous beast, feasting on his children through all of time. To others, he has appeared as a wise old man, exhorting them to fulfil his purpose.

The Father of Monsters dwells within the Beast Heart, from which uncounted monsters spring in a never ending tide, pouring into the higher levels of the Dungeon to fight and kill in Odren’s name.

They enact his will, as will we.

Always.

- Excerpt from ‘Tome of the Hierophants’ by Unknown.