The Death of Coalbrow

Cute and Quiet. Makes a lot of hand gestures, a bit like Yoda, but less green.

Topic/Postby Gergel » 10 Dec 2012, 16:31

Part 4

L'ykr slumbered deep, deep under the massive mountains of Storm Peaks. It had been asleep for aeons, long since before mortal races roamed the world above.

It was a peaceful being, comparatively, for an Old God. L'ykr did not touch mortals' dreams. It did not whisper into their ears, despite what some might claim. It did not crave worship and even though countless mortals devoted their lives to L'ykr, they did so unknowingly.

L'ykr dreamed.

Its mind was stretched out into a countless myriad of tiny little fragments. Each was bound to a minuscule section of the physical plain, each perceived a sliver of the mortal world. And all of these slivers together merged into the consciousness of the Old God L'ykr. It saw mortals' joys, sorrows, births and deaths. Billions of fleeting instances in every passing moment.

Aside from ancient rock around it, nothing physical had come into contact with L'ykr for untold millennia. Its devoted mindless elemental servants floated in complete darkness beside it. They saw little use. Perhaps once in a ten thousand years. There was nothing L'ykr could need from the outside world.

So it was slightly surprising, if such a word could even be used, when one of the servants was forcefully ripped from its cradle and pulled upwards by summoning magic of mere mortals. L'ykr did not concern itself with its fate. Another would manifest momentarily. Assuming one considers a hundred years to be a "moment".

It was slightly more surprising when, through the sliver of consciousness that was the elemental servant, L'ykr saw its destruction and long fall deep, far and back into the Old God's sanctum. Lifeless splatters came to rest near the cradle where it had been idling for a million years or so. There was a most unusual breath of fresh air, an avalanche of very young rocks, and finally a... something... the likes of which had never been seen in the depths of its dwelling.

Such things scurried around only in L'ykr's vision shards. Most were its devotees. L'ykr knew them all. It knew this one, even through its broken and destroyed corporeal form. Its ghost was still clinging to the dead flesh. A speck of consciousness that would soon flicker out like a spark.

The ghost's next action was inconceivable. L'ykr sensed a great flash of joy from it. It released its hold on the lifeless flesh and moved closer to the Old God's perceivable physical presence.

It attempted to drink L'ykr!

For the first time since the first cell of yeast came into existence, L'ykr's consciousness pulled away from its innumerable receptacles and every single of its threads focused on the little ghost. At that instant, for a few moments, everyone in the world was sober. Every flask, glass, cask, bottle, keg of alcohol lost its potency and was as plain as though it were water.

L'ykr inspected the ghost. It sensed the soul's annoyance at being pulled away from the God's form. Its desire to immerse itself in it. Eternally.

How curious. It was the first time ever for it to feel anything other than complete indifference towards mortals. L'ykr's gaze fixated on the soul and through it, the crushed body.

Something as powerful as the full attention of an immeasurably ancient Old God changes its target. Without the God even noticing, an echo of that power lingered in the soul's essence, which stopped its struggles.

Garrshammer Coalbrow looked around with a strangely disjointed sensation. He had just woken up from the most wonderful dream: being in the presence of all the alcohol in the world and almost being close enough to reach out and drink it! He was in complete darkness, and yet he could see. A soft glow flickered everywhere. Its colour would be as impossible to describe to another mortal as "red" to a blind man. In alcoves Coalbrow saw coherent and brighter shapes standing perfectly still. There were large and more irregular splotches of it all over the cavern. And finally a very familiar small dark crumpled shape with the glow covering it entirely.

"Dat be mah body." he thought. "Oh. Ah be dead. How sad."

Coalbrow recalled his final actions. "Got keeled by a big giant splorch'o livin' booze. Eh, dere be worse ways ta go."

This memory made something go *click* and he recognized the solid glowy shapes standing around the chamber. More of those alcoholine elementals. A lot more. But these did not look like they intended to attack.

The dwarf's soul moved closer to his corpse. Coalbrow knocked on his own head, or tried to, since his incorporeal knuckle just went right through it. "'Ey! Lemme back in!"

A single tendril of L'ykr's consciousness gazed at him from behind. The rest of the Old God's mind had already returned to its customary spread-out state. Alcohol had potency again and drinkers were drunk once more. Still, that oddity of a mortal would perhaps bear another moment's attention. The tendril poked Coalbrow's soul in the back.

For Garrshammer Coalbrow, it was a moment of disorientation and then there were quite a lot more moments of unbelievably excruciating pain. He was back in his body. Sadly said body was still as crushed and broken as before. Almost instinctively he reached his hand out (*crack* *crunch*) towards the nearest alcoholine servant. He did not even feel any surprise over the agony when the towering creature moved from its alcove and picked his body up from the ground.

The pain had been terrible before. At this point it rose to almost mind-breaking levels. Alcohol permeated Coalbrow's body and very being, flowed in through wounds, along veins, around broken and crushed bones, and then moved everything with irresistible force. Fragments of bone reassembled into their correct shapes. Ripped and crushed muscles assumed their proper configurations. Frayed nerve endings reconnected. In a moment his entire body was outwardly whole again, but should the alcoholic support around it suddenly vanish, he would literally fall into pieces.

Threads of pure alcohol crawled along his nerves and wound themselves around them. It was an indescribable sensation. But it took the pain away. Coalbrow's mind had survived the ordeal, he was still sane. Although, obviously, not the same. Never quite the same any more.

For a long time he lied perfectly still in his new full-body cast which was holding him together. Would he be stuck like that forever? Immobile, in deepest darkness. No. The unholy power within him healed his body and made him whole again. Not even a scar remained.

Coalbrow sensed L'ykr's presence. During his period of stillness he felt the shape of its mind and body. It never spoke to him, it probably did not even know how. It did give him a tiny bit of attention, which is more than can be said about the rest of the mortals who lived, and had ever lived, all put together. Power and knowledge imprinted on him.

Then came the time when Coalbrow moved. The control he possessed over his ethanol surroundings moved the gigantic alcoholine elemental with him, until it disgorged him with a *sploosh*. Coalbrow took a wobbling step. His bones did not crack and tendons did not let go. The dwarf stretched in darkness.

He would be needing some clothes. His own had been ripped to shreds and long since dissolved away in strong alcohol. Here, in the presence of his... master... he was at his strongest. The cavern itself bent to his will. Black liquid crawled up from the massive lake that was L'ykr. It flowed up his body and covered it entirely. The liquid hardened as it moulded itself into a shape as dictated by his mind's blueprint. When this finished, the dwarf was clad from head to toe in massive spiky plate armour. As an afterthought another spike of Lykrinite shot up and solidified into the shape of a war staff.

It was soothing to be in the presence of what he had privately named the God of Alcohol. He had all the booze he could ever want and an eternal life during which to drink it. Yet Coalbrow felt uneasy. There were still herbs to pick and drinking was more pleasant in the presence of friends.

Besides, someone would have to keep an eye out on Tormeron and make sure he would not get into too much trouble.

So with a sigh, the first, last and the only Booze Knight turned and allowed himself to be picked up by a Servant of L'ykr. Guided by Coalbrow's will, the alcoholine elemental carried him away from his master. In utter darkness they ascended for what felt like days. Until at last there was a speck of light. Taking a final drink from the arm of the Servant, Coalbrow once again stepped out into the world.

* * *


"Sooo..." Tormeron pondered, "Now you want to make us all worship that L'ykr god, right?"

"Dere be no need," Coalbrow responded in a grave voice. He looked at all the alcohol around them and the people holding, drinking and on occasion, regurgitating said alcohol. "Ya all already be doin' dat. Welcome ta de cult, mon."
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Gergel
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