The siege of Ul-Targash. The bloody conclusion of that siege was one of the most horrible things Multan had every witnessed. His troll regiment had been stationed outside of the city for years. The undying enemy would not yield even after years without food.
So the order came to charge the holes in the walls. While magical fire rained down upon the horrors inside the long dead city, Multan and all his friends breached the wall without opposition. Nothing could have prepared them for the horrible monsters inside the city walls. He ended the battle bathed in the blood of both friend and foe. Asgard, who had sworn to help them fight these monsters, had betrayed them halfway and was now attacking Southern Heimerians still within the city walls. But Multan did not care. He was carrying his two most trusted friends in a daze. He could carry both of them at the same time. They were light on account of all the missing limbs.
Multan spent the next week gathering corpses, or what was left of them, and helping embalm them for the trip home. Many of the bodies where burned before they could be gathered in fear of the plague spreading. Many of his dead friends were simply left on the street inside the city walls. Those same streets that blazing magical infernos took weeks burning every last speck of. Their ashes mingling with the ashes of what was once the crown achievement of the human race. Multan had cursed them all, but the humans in particular for letting this hell fester far too long in the middle of their state.
Finally he was going home. To the holy caves where his brothers and sisters would soon be laid to rest, Tal'Kinita willing.
Centehua, the neutral caretaker of the burial grounds, invited Multan inside. The normally silent grounds were busy with people walking in and out, carrying bodies of fallen warriors. The sweet aroma of death and decay hung about the place and Multan felt instantly at home. The sights, sounds and smells soothed him. Here there was finally rest from the turmoil of life. Here you could decompose in peace amongst the ancestors. No cursed magical elven flames would touch these bodies. No cursed disease or corruption would force these bodies to stand, kill and maim.
But these bodies would stand from time to time. Stand and speak with the reverent voice of the ancestors. When Multan walked back towards the cave entrance he passed a sideroom where his family was gathered around a particularly rotten corpse. Multan his great-grandmother, Eztia, had died several years ago. The family had lifted her body from its resting place and were now chanting around it. Multan's father, having lost an arm in the siege, used his left hand to try and lure Eztia down from the heavens of Tal'Kinita with chocolate and song. He succeeded.
The rotting body started moving, in jolts and fits at first, but the movement slowed down and took on a certain grace and composure as the soul got used to controlling flesh and bones once more. Grace and composure, in stark contrast with her words in the old Trallvoj language.
"Wa Wa Da? Wa Ting Dohh NaTingUppaEgJak?! BegBegPrie WekkaCat Ma?!" It is hard to translate, but would mean as much as "What who did? Who thinks do Stupid-piss-head?! LongLongtime ago to wakeGather me?!" we all knew truly meant "Who does such a thing? Who is stupid enough to wake me up after all this time?!". Jubilation arose from those that clearly recognized Eztia's personality from when she was alive. For a short while at least she would be amongst them once more. Multan joined the circle around the ancestor.
"Sorry sorry Eztia..." his father apologized in Trallvoj with the largest grin on his face. "We bring news! Ul-Targash has fallen and the family has reunited, or... well..." the one armed man suddenly realized the extend of the loss suffered and his voice started to crack. The corpse answered surprisingly soothingly for once. "The part of the family that is left you wanted to say?". The body turned to her grandson as it slowly took in its surroundings. "And your arm too..." she said all in Trallvoj. The body slowly lifting the chocolate from his father's outstretched hand and carefully stuffed its own rotting mouth with it. "I know. I heard all about the horrors from the family members that are with me now. With Tal'Kinita." she said reverently. The body chewed loudly on the bitter candy, while his grandmother was occasionally sighing with longing and nostalgia for fleshy pleasures.
"So you don't tell me anything new. But no matter. I have news for you." The family grew quiet. Nobody spoke a word until Eztia was finished with her treat, took a big gulp of air and spilled the news. "The Numen will be organized here. In this very cave. The three families have already started bickering up here, having almost forgotten the terrible loss the Numen community caused us. Bickering about who should hold the honour of being send down and facing them. But this is also the perfect time to settle this age old score once and for all.". The corpse smiled slowly. Some chocolate-covered flesh fell down from its lips on the floor, exposing a long row of ever-grinning teeth.
"We have much to discuss before the disciples get here."
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