PhomatBa's Necropsy

…the gust of wind blows through the halls of the Underscape. These chains weigh down upon my frail spirit, ushering me into the Narrow Maze. I glance at poor, tormented souls that get sucked into oblivion, while the others get elevated into the light - I am devoid of such concerns. With indifference, I enter the endless, dark pits… but not before my warning echoes through the halls, ripping the very fabric of the Underscape and settling into the accursed forest under the Wailing Mountains. Here, a part of me will forever haunt those foolish enough to enter this nightmarish grove… I wish for nothing more than to seal the abomination that roams within it.

In my lifetime, I was a prosperous farmer living on the outskirts of the Wailing Mountains. The Brewmasters of Oro occasionally came to me for their rations of ale and food - they used to say that my rice nourishes both body and spirit. Yet, over time, my lands became infertile, and I was forced to expand into the bamboo forest under the mountain - known as PhomatBa’s Grove. I hired men to cut down the towering bamboo stalks, which grew so high that they’ve pierced the Heavens. However, as we went deeper and deeper into this Devil’s Den, we noticed pillars of bones rising high above the clouds. The putrid smell of blood and guts under our feet overwhelmed us as we trampled them under our feet, sending a chill down our spine… yet, we decided to push on, for the Season of Harvest was at its peak and the seeds were beckoning for new life.

Suddenly, three of my men got pulled deep into the darkness, their screams echoing, reverberating inside my soul. I ordered the remaining crew to withdraw, but as I gazed into their eyes they were pierced by two sharp horns of some demonic contraption, dragging them back into the maw of this accursed forest. Ultimately, I was the only one left alone - frozen with fear, I stood in place with my sword at the ready while the piss slowly darkened my blood-smeared britches. The ground started to thunder, with tremors beneath my feet trying to push me back from the horror that was approaching. It was then that the four sanguine orbs pierced the darkness, growing ever brighter as their possessor approached. This abomination was dragging mangled bodies of my comrades behind him, leaving the trail of blood and gore that fed the creeping shadows following in his wake. His gleeful smile, full of rot and decay, could be compared with that of our Heavenly Mandate in Hell, while the skull of some horned monstrosity tampered with the very fabric of existence, setting hellish sights before my eyes as my breath drew to its conclusion.

After that, all I felt was agony… searing pain of my soul being separated from my flesh, while the accursed deity of PhomatBa’s Grove tried to devour it. Yet, a flash of lightning, a jolly giggle and one jolt too far spirited me away. What I saw was uncertain but what I felt was too traumatic to come back to.

And so: let my screams fill you with dread, let my appearance make one tear be shed lest your body be mangled in matters perverse after you’ve witnessed the PhomatBa’s Curse…

Lore by Thuzar