Transcript of The Account of Aesa Fellsdottir (Part 2)
You will know my surprise - and my despair - when I tell you that the stranger had brought his legions of demons to our very own world! Our verdant forests and rolling plains were as alien to their eyes as their hellish ruin would seem to ours. It maddens me to think that such abominations have sullied our fair Gielinor, - and that it yet suffers from their presence.
Cacus and his kin built a great empire for the stranger, conquering and enslaving the humans of the world, but the years took their toll on the monstrous dukes and soon only a handful remained. Then came the time of the great civil war, where a mighty sorcerous warlord tore the empire in two and then - travelling through blasphemous rites - marched upon the very home of the monsters and demons. One by one, the monsters were slaughtered or driven out by the warlord and the inhuman slaves they once ruled.
Even Hostilius was butchered and dragged into the Abyss. There he languished, strung between worlds like a great corpse-puppet. His remaining subjects fell once more to cannibalism, frantically attempting to hoard enough power to survive. When defeated and exiled, many of them made their way to his bloated bulk and infested it, crawling over and inside the dead flesh like so many flies and maggots.
As for Cacus, he fought for his sundered home, lost, and was forced out. He eschewed his kin - who scavenged and picked over the remains of their once-master - and made his own way into the great beyond. There he stayed for an age, accompanied only by wretched self-pity and thoughts of revenge. He fed on the detritus brought to him on Abyssal currents, and scratched his inscrutable thoughts on parchment fastened to his own body, in order that they would not drift away. After long aeons, the ebb and flow of the Abyss brought him close to our world, and he was filled with hunger - both for living meat and for dominion over others.
I watched him in my dreams, and saw him clawing, searching, seeking any crack or hole that would allow him access back into our warm, light world. Then, he seemed to smell something. He looked this way and that, searching, until finally he lifted his loathsome face upwards and found what he was looking for. He could see me. His great mouth gaped, and he swallowed my dream-soul whole.
Now when I awaken each morning it is without feverish sweats, for I am a being with no soul. He has devoured it entirely. When my body dies, he will rend it from within and make from it the entrance he requires. I have told the elders, to no avail. They call me moon-touched. I cannot take this doom elsewhere to threaten others. My people are the mightiest of humans, and if anyone is to face this onslaught it should be them. I will hide myself in the caverns beneath the outpost, so that there is at least the possibility of fortification.
While he waits for my death, he draws essence from his own flesh and uses it to grow an army. He is not breeding heirs, but generals. In anticipation of his coming conquest, he styles himself not a duke, but a King, and his creations are his queens. They, in turn, may spawn yet further abominations in myriad forms, and his will is communicated through the thoughts of the queens. Even if my people do heed my warnings and marshal their defences, this army threatens to overwhelm them. I go now to the caverns to await my death. I wish no curse on those who read this warning and ignore it, for when he returns, all will face reckoning.