Twisted goddess part 1

After days of drifting on the river, Gadaric and Satifa noticed the bustling agricultural lands fading away, giving way to an increasingly arid atmosphere. The once fertile ground now appeared dry and barren. The river they had been following had swollen, but its waters had turned murky and shallow. Ahead of them stretched a vast, desolate ocean.

Disembarking from their makeshift raft, they stepped onto the lifeless terrain, now surrounded by a haunting silence. Not far away, a city loomed on the coast – Nimrud, a massive fortress guarding the divine river basin cities, marking the boundary between the lands of the Lakhmids and the realm of the dead.

The Lakhmids, an enigmatic group, were renowned for their peculiar customs and eccentric lifestyles. It was a necessity, perhaps, when living so proximate to the literal lands of the afterlife. Undeterred by Nimrud's presence, Gadaric and Satifa pressed on southward, their purpose leading them deeper into the heart of Lakhmid territory. They were on a mission involving the Lakhmids and their goddess, Lak Ahm, the daughter of Xerxes.

Under the scorching sun, the barren landscape stretched out, casting long shadows over the parched earth. Yet, an inexplicable chill permeated the air, cutting through their very bones. Amidst the desolation, a few twisted trees struggled to survive, bearing fruits that defied every known norm. Satifa couldn't help but question their authenticity.

"Are these fruits meant to look like this?" she asked, her eyes fixed on the strange produce, each one displaying unique shapes and patterns.

Gadaric, intrigued, plucked one from a nearby tree. Its texture was peculiar, reminiscent of a lizard's scaly skin. The bark of the tree itself felt oddly hairy, like that of an animal, and the entire tree seemed grotesquely twisted.

Satifa decided to experiment, allowing one of her locusts to sample the fruit. To her relief, the insect showed no signs of distress, confirming that the fruits were not poisonous.

Gadaric, seemingly lost in thought, suddenly brought up a completely different topic. "I heard the Green Solo Moon World boasts beautiful gardens, you know?"

"Huh...?" Satifa responded, taken aback by his sudden shift in conversation.

"Kairuoan, to be specific. It's a city where you could rule your people, with gardens hanging from balconies and vast lakes keeping the surroundings fertile," Gadaric explained, a touch of nostalgia in his voice.

Satifa chuckled at his unexpected diversion. "Kairuoan, huh? It's been a while since I've thought about that place."

Curiosity piqued, Gadaric lifted his mask slightly and took a cautious bite from the scaly fruit. Satifa watched his reaction closely.

"Well, perhaps these fruits are an acquired taste," he remarked, his expression ambiguous. "Or maybe they're just a peculiar experience."

"Are they terrible?" Satifa inquired.

Gadaric hesitated before responding, "No... but not good either."

The further they ventured into the bizarre landscape, the more the surroundings seemed to defy all natural laws. Gravity itself appeared to lose its grip, and the animals they encountered looked like grotesque amalgamations of different species. Amidst this surreal environment, they stumbled upon something both unique and unsettling: a puppet of Erlik.

"What's one of these doing here?" Satifa questioned, drawing closer to examine the puppet.

As her hand approached it, the puppet's wooden eyes snapped open, and it came to life with a startling cry, "Aaaaaaaah, no, I don't. I don't want to return!"

Gadaric and Satifa recoiled, their eyes fixed on the wriggling, contorting figure. It seemed as if the puppet was struggling against some invisible force, its joints creaking in protest.

"I... I am alive, and I am not a puppet. My wife's name is... my child's name is... my name is... Aaaaaaaaaaarh!" it yelled before collapsing to the ground, its life force seemingly drained away.

Suddenly, the wooden form of the puppet began to splinter and crack, disintegrating before their very eyes. In the eerie silence that followed, the air resonated with the echoing laughter of a child, coming from all directions and yet nowhere specific.

Then, as abruptly as it had started, the puppet was stretched and pulled, its form contorting like the landscape around them. Like the trees and rocks, the puppet twisted into an unrecognizable shape until it vanished completely, leaving the land in a hushed stillness.

"That laughter... it came from all around, but now it's gone," Satifa said, her voice filled with unease.

"No... it came from the south, carried by a powerful divine aura. But another great aura snuffed it out," Gadaric explained, his sharp senses attuned to the energies around them.

"You think..."

"Gods."

The realization hung heavy in the air – the source they sought was drawing nearer, accompanied by its ominous aura.

"One is far, beyond the bounds of this continent," Gadaric muttered, his unease palpable. "But one is close by, and it is not hiding its power."

The imminent danger loomed before them, a reminder of the forces beyond mortal comprehension that they were about to face.