THE KINGDOM OF ZOAR

The humid air hung heavy in the dark chamber, thick with the scent of ancient incense and unspoken fear. High Priest Marmot, his normally calm face a mask of strained composure, sat at the head of a polished round table. 

Around him, the eight solemn figures who were the pillars of Zoar's government shifted uneasily. Their eyes, usually filled with a practiced devotion, now darted nervously between Marmot and Elock, who stood opposite the high priest, his voice a low, chilling current in the room.

"It was that same entity that you, in a fit of jealousy, thoughtlessly disposed of," Elock's words, sharp and cold, cut through the tension. He gestured broadly at the circle of leaders. "Your dominion over the people of Zoar, High Priest Marmot, was a privilege you received from us dark Wizards, the result of our agreement with the dark entities of hell."

Marmot's jaw tightened, a flicker of something dark dancing in his eyes before he smoothed his expression. He had always been a master of control, his entire life a carefully constructed performance. He'd built an empire on the fervent belief of his 100,000 inhabitants, a blend of humans and half-beast slaves, all bound by the singular religion he had so cleverly established.

 He'd painted himself as a benevolent shepherd, providing aid to orphans and the unfortunate, all while secretly indulging in the lavish offerings of gold, jewels, and the exploitation of vulnerable women. 

Behind the scenes, the Falun Gui, his secret cult, engaged in violent and grotesque rituals steeped in ancient dark magic. The whispers of their practices were a constant, unsettling hum beneath Zoar's polished surface.

Elock continued, devoid of emotion, "The seer has foretold a prophecy: In merely eleven years, this entire nation will crumble to the ground. A fate of death, suffering, and horrific mutilation awaits us all, even those yet unborn. 

The forces of evil have set their sights on us, and the infernal depths have now formed the foundation upon which our kingdom stands."

Two centuries ago, Marmot's ancestors had begun this twisted lineage, initiating a dark ritual to subjugate all of humanity, wielding the very forces of hell. And just twenty years ago, Marmot himself, in a summoning circle, had cemented his own pact with the prince of Hell, a pact sealed with the ruthless sacrifice of members of the Ashura bloodline, one by one, he picked them over the years, sons and daughters dying unholy death..

 He had compelled them, the figures now seated around the table, to tap into the darkest forms of magic. They had struck a deal, yes, but they had learned too late that the entity they consulted was far more cunning and devious than they had ever anticipated.

A silence fell, heavy and suffocating. The reality of Elock's words, stark and brutal, settled over them like a shroud. The carefully constructed facade of Zoar and the strict ethical rules Marmot had enforced began to fall apart under the weight of this revelation.. 

The greed, moral decay, and endless desire for power that affected so many people in Zoar, traits that Marmot himself embodied, now seemed like a deep corruption that would ultimately bring their world to an end.

"Is there a way forward?" asked one of the voices from the left side of the table. She referred to herself as Number 2 and was in charge of the half-human, half-beast slaves. 

Ruthless to her core, she had a reputation for being extremely cruel. One chilling tale described how even a tiny sneeze from her servants could lead to them being sent underground for punishment. 

Remarkably, she was the one administering these punishments. She would pull out their fingernails one by one. In another horrific punishment, she once cut open a servant's skull while they were still alive just to see what was inside their head, inserting three nails there for amusement.

 Another gruesome story told of her removing a servant's intestines and forcing them to eat heavy food while she watched the food pass through their body. 

Elock's voice sliced through the heavy air with strong determination as he replied, "I have a plan, but for it to work, we need to get the blessing of a Death God. Too much blood has been shed in the last few months since that terrible night. Each month brings new terrors our way. We are cursed, my friends, cursed by twelve horrors from hell, and so far, only four of these evil creatures have been let loose upon our suffering world." 

He paused, his eyes lost in thought as he remembered the dark events that followed Ashura's death, a moment that changed everything for them. "In the first month after Ashura was killed, our once-thriving city was invaded by horrifying serpents.

 These were not just regular snakes; they filled the streets with their venomous fangs tearing into flesh and shooting out deadly streams of corrosive acid. The nightmare that started in the temple didn't stay there; it spilled over into every part of our lives. From Ashura's blood came these terrifying serpents, covered in tough armor and immune to ordinary weapons. The only hope we had was in the purifying fire wielded by a saint from Ashura's clan.

Elock shivered as he remembered the terrifying events. "The second month brought a false calm. The snakes seemed to tire and die right where they lay, giving us a brief moment of relief. But during this short pause, a much greater danger appeared. From the dead snakes came a swarm of deadly scorpions, each one more dangerous than the last.

 They spread across the land like a dark dust storm, invading every crack and every farm; their sharp tails stung anyone in their path, causing endless pain for both cattle and people. After this encounter, all that was left were piles of bleached bones, remnants of those who fell victim to this new disaster." 

He spoke with intense urgency, his eyes shining bright. "Our people, scared and desperate, turned to their only way of defending themselves. They called upon the power of gold, collecting its dust, because it was known that only the sacred gold on the altar of the goddess El-Lia could keep the scorpion away. Those who found refuge in her temple, where the scorpions would not go, hid from the chaos outside, praying e

arnestly for rescue amid the growing nightmare.".....