“It wasn’t the first time I had followed Lagarde through one of Acarthia’s magical transport mirrors, but I knew that it would be among the last. The mirror transported us some miles south and west in the blink of an eye to an abandoned city swarmed with the living dead and lizardman scavengers. Our group came to blows with the lizardmen, quickly dispatching them and moving on to a great canyon in the desert. At the end of that canyon we came upon a troop of skeletons commanded by three of the dreaded Ish’raxis, undead scorpion men of legendary cruelty and power, the tales of which could fill this and other several tomes beside and still not scratch the depths of their depravity.
The insane bravery of Captain Lagarde heralded our engagement, the blades of Chapter Master Ark and Squire Demvarien clashed with the inhuman claws of the Ish’raxis. Solathari and Blaidrym dashed bravely in and out of the reach of the Ish’raxis covered by the spells of our celestialist Korric. For my own part I became a conduit for the Earth’s vengeance against such unnatural beasts and their minions, darting and dashing while unleashing a veritable storm of concentrated Earth magic at the foes. As quickly as it had begun the Ish’raxis and their skeletons were no more and we were free to enter the tomb which they guarded.
Within we found a golem made of molten lead, quick applications of shatter spells and globes, along with a rending swipe from Lagarde, shattered the nearby fountains and quickly cooled the construct. Our spirits were high as we crossed into the final chamber, a chamber guarded by a pair of Ish’raxis and two familiar figures: the Deathknight Anarchy and a shade of his master, Dreadrot. I have detailed the horrors that Anarchy was capable of earlier in this work, and so I will spare the reader, suffice to say his power was unmatched and a battle for the ages lie before us. With bravery, wit, cunning, and I’ve no shame admitting a fair bit of luck we were able to bring the creature down. We knew time would be short, quickly we charged into the chamber and removed the Phylactery of Dreadrot along with an unexpected prize, Anarchy’s Spirit Bottle. With all due haste we made from the chamber, Squire Demvarien held the Shade’s attention as we got clear, nearly at great personal cost. Upon return to New Acarthia proper we quickly dispatched Anarchy’s spirit bottle in a ritual that I can still feel the echoes of to this day.”
Excerpt from Reflections on Acarthia by Elwin D. H. Hilltopple
Awesome mod guys! A big thank you to my team and to Mike and Jesse for an amazing sendoff to one of Acarthia's best big bads. I love a mod that pushes us to the limits and this one was certainly that. I've been asked to post the destruction ritual I did for the spirit bottle and it follows below.
Elwin enters the Healer’s guild, his coat dirty and bloodstained from the road, concealing an item beneath it. The Greater Circle ripples briefly as he enters and kneels in the center, drawing a scroll, some components and the mysterious item from beneath his coat. An ornate bottle. Taking the scroll in hand and rising to his feet he begins to read the arcane words held within, the feeling of magic ripples through the building, the scroll floats from his hands as do the components, swirling in mid air before him. The bottle rises next, struggling and screaming, the spirit within desperately struggling to survive. With a gesture chains of pure elemental Order rise from the cardinal points of the Circle, shackling the bottle in mid air, containing the foul Chaos energy within. Elwin’s voice grows louder as he chants the ancient words, the chains tighten, purple mist fills the Circle coalescing into the form of a great blade. Gripping the hilt of the purple mist blade Elwin raises it high, his eyes locked on the struggling bottle. “For years uncounted you have plagued us, a wretched servant of a more wretched being. We stand now at the cusp of the Apocalypse, and you lie broken before us. With this act I bring a light to a darkening world, I bring hope to a hopeless people.” Placing both hands upon the hilt Elwin drives the sword of pure elemental Death into the bottle, it offers a moment of resistance before shattering with an ear piercing scream. Elwin releases the blade which dissipates and the Circle returns to its dormant state. “Be a good lad Anarchy, as you scream past him on the way to your true and final Death, tell Bramble we're coming for him next.” With that Elwin leaves the circle and heads back home to rest.