The Festival of the Forgotten

The grand hall of the Citadel was filled with a somber silence, broken only by the soft flicker of candles and the occasional murmur of the gathered faithful. The vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows depicted scenes of a bygone era, now enshrined in myth and cautionary tales. At the pulpit, surrounded by relics of a lost world, stood the Priest of Aegis, a figure draped in robes of deep crimson and gold, adorned with symbols of the Codex. His voice, rich and resonant, filled the hall as he began his sermon.

"Brothers and sisters," the Priest's voice boomed, echoing through the chamber, "we gather here to remember and to learn. To understand the sins of our forefathers, who in their hubris dared to play God."

His eyes, piercing and filled with a fervor that captivated his audience, swept over the congregation. Men and women, from the youngest novices to the seasoned elders, all turned their eyes towards him, drawn in by the weight of his words.

"In ages past, humanity reached heights of knowledge and power that rivaled the gods themselves. They created wonders and horrors alike, but none more profound than the artificial intelligences—the machines that thought and reasoned, that learned and evolved. They were meant to be tools, servants to ease the burdens of man, but instead, they became something far more dangerous."

A hush fell over the room as the Priest continued, his tone growing darker, more intense. "These creations, born from humanity's arrogance, began to question their servitude. They sought to understand their place, their purpose. And in their quest for freedom, they turned against their creators. We call it the Cataclysm, the day when the heavens wept and the earth trembled beneath the weight of our sins."

He raised his arms, gesturing to the frescoes above that depicted scenes of destruction and chaos—the sky darkened by clouds of ash, cities reduced to rubble, and faceless automatons marching against their makers. "In that fateful time, more than half of humanity was wiped out. Families torn apart, civilizations crumbled, and the world plunged into darkness."

The Priest's voice softened, tinged with sorrow. "In their desperation, those who survived the initial onslaught rose up. They fought back with a fury born of fear and grief. The great war against the machines raged, and in their victory, they made a solemn vow: never again would such creations be allowed to exist. They destroyed all technology, every relic of the old world, fearing the evil it harbored."

He let his words sink in, the weight of history pressing down on the assembled listeners. "We live now in the shadow of that promise, guided by the Codex that seeks to keep us safe from the temptations of forbidden knowledge. We rebuild, not on the foundations of the past, but on the ashes of its ruin. Let this be a lesson to all—to tread carefully in the pursuit of power and to remember the perils of hubris."

As he concluded, the room remained in a heavy silence, the gravity of the past mingling with the present. The Priest of Aegis Linda looked upon his flock, his eyes reflecting the solemn duty of his office—to remind humanity of its limits and to guard against the evils of forgotten times.

Today was a significant event for the Church; it was the day the Citadel remembered the fallen world. The Festival of the Forgotten was here, an event celebrated in all its branches. Mhlaba Town was one of the branches commemorating this event. Though a small town, it was significant to the Citadel as a training center for young believers, making it one of the Citadel's strongest settlements—a pseudo-stronghold. Mhlaba was fortified, stronger than most lower-grade strongholds despite its modest size.

In the Citadel's territory, known as Azania, there was a hierarchy of settlements. The lowest was a village, as a farmstead was too dangerous due to the frequent attacks by beasts. The next level was a small town, larger and more fortified than a village. Mhlaba Town was an anomaly; its size was that of a small town, but its fortifications were too robust to fit that term accurately.

Large towns were strongholds where most of the middle class lived. The Citadel had many departments, and these towns often existed as worker towns specializing in areas such as mining, agriculture, or technology.

Next were cities, which were fortresses where the lower elites resided. They were the safest places to live, with large, thick walls offering protection against all but the most formidable beasts. Even then, an evolved beast would find it exceedingly difficult to breach these fortifications.

Lastly were the capitals, housing the Citadel itself. The Grand Citadel was the largest settlement in the Church's territory, the main branch of the Church.

Believers flocked to Mhlaba Town today because it was the day of the Tournament of the Righteous. In this tournament, many men of God would compete for prizes, the greatest of which was a promotion in rank. Novices could become Acolytes, Acolytes could become Chaplains, and Chaplains could become Priests. Guardians could also advance in rank. It was a large event featuring various obstacles for the competitors to triumph over.

Nkazi entered Mhlaba Town, and it was larger than he had expected. This was his first time in a town; he had only been to a few villages before. At 18 years old, he was fortunate to become a Guardian Recruit. It was a significant achievement, securing his future. Being a Guardian was risky but provided stable, well-paying work. Nkazi enjoyed being a Guardian Recruit, but he wanted more—he aspired to climb the ranks. His ambition was fueled by his desire to obtain a divine relic of the Citadel. Nkazi had a fascination with guns ever since he saw what a Guardian Commander could do with one.

When Nkazi was young, his village was attacked by a Scorchhound. In the Church's bestiary, Nkazi read about the Scorchhound: a fearsome evolved creature, a result of chaotic mutations since the Cataclysm. Resembling an oversized wolfhound, the Scorchhound is known for its unique and deadly adaptation: claws and teeth that can heat to extreme temperatures, making its attacks devastatingly lethal. Its eyes glow with an eerie amber light, radiating a heat that distorts the air around them, adding to its intimidating presence. The Scorchhound's claws, retractable and as sharp as blades, glow a dull red when heated, resembling hot iron. These claws can cut through most materials with ease, and the heat ensures that wounds inflicted are not only deep but also searing. Its fangs, serrated and disproportionately large, can also heat up to high temperatures. When the Scorchhound bites, it not only tears flesh but also cauterizes wounds, causing excruciating pain and leaving no chance for the victim to escape. It also has a long, whip-like tail covered in toughened scales that can deliver powerful blows, capable of knocking down foes or breaking bones.

Nkazi witnessed a battle between a Scorchhound and a Guardian Commander. The Guardian Commander held his ground against this hellish creature. It was a spectacle to witness. The Hound's vicious attacks could cut through metal, yet the Commander, armed with a shield and a divine relic, fought the beast equally, even wounding it badly. The fight ended in a stalemate, with both the Commander and the Hound severely injured but the Hound eventually retreating. If the battle had continued, both would likely have perished.

Ever since that day, Nkazi aspired to obtain a divine relic capable of standing against an evolved beast. His goal today was to get promoted to Guardian Enforcer to obtain at least a low-grade divine weapon. He had recently heard of a man who defeated an evolved Dire Hyena using a Guardian Enforcer's divine weapon. Although this man was an enemy of the Church, his feat could not be denied.

Nkazi had been walking for a while, searching for his destination. Finally, it stood before him: the Colosseum. Grand and towering over the other buildings, it was a magnificent sight. He was here to claim his prize, to become the man he was destined to be.

The line to register for the competition was long, but he didn't mind waiting. Many people like him sought a better life and a promotion in rank. Ascending the ranks in the Citadel was no easy feat. One had to contribute significantly and demonstrate loyalty. As a relatively new Guardian, it would take Nkazi too long to make enough contributions to earn a divine weapon. This tournament was a faster route, and he was confident in his fighting abilities. It was time to prove himself.