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evolutionsvoid · 3 months ago

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A giant Teraknon that walked the lands, Sheelnagi was the fear of every official and priest of the Church. Those who had a high status within the golden faith were considered a target of this horrible child. While there were other Teraknon who would happily tear a saint or renowned preacher to pieces, there were many who would prefer that fate over what Sheelnagi offered. Born from the use of a branch coated in hardened Amber, she was like a massive walking tree, a giant who shook the lands with each step. Though immense in size, that was not what terrified people so. The real horror lay within her split body. A bubbling gash ran up her form, and from it oozed a waterfall of Amber, the sticky false humor that traps everything it touches like flies to glue. Sheelnagi would use this fluid to imprison foes inside her, their bodies being suspended in an endless sleep. Long sticky tendrils would lash out from this wound, snaring victims and dragging them into this gurgling maw. There they would be trapped without change, robbed of both life and death. Amber is feared by many because it can preserve a person for eternity, preventing them from returning to the cycle til they are broken free from this prison. And a prison she was, as Sheelnagi was tasked by her Mother to hunt down and abduct high level members of the Church.

Those she stole could be used as hostages, interrogated for information or be presented to Chalaz. After Sheelnagi swallowed up a hefty amount of victims, she would return to the Palace of Milk and Miren to unload her latest haul. Prisoners would be examined, their fates decided by their uses. Some would be freed from this Amber trap and threatened to serve under the threat of being put back in. And in certain cases, victims would be left inside Sheelnagi as both a trophy and a message. When the people learn of a beloved priest or renowned warrior forever imprisoned inside this monstrosity, they are quick to know fear. Sheelnagi greatly enjoyed her work, seeing her prisoners as a wonderful collection. While she was told to focus on important people, she had a knack for snaring pretty animals or interesting people to add to her assortment. Seeing this giant scoop up and swallow victims with glee earned her the name of The Consuming One. And since she was trapping valuable members of the Church, it was obvious that she needed to be stopped. Etzba took it upon himself to see this giant fall, so that her vile mission would end and her prisoners could be freed.

At such a size, even his mighty hammer seemed puny. A weapon like that wasn’t going to harm her in the slightest, and many soldiers had either been consumed or crushed attempting to chop her down. He needed something far mightier to fell her, as well as a smarter plan of attack. He would go to a temple of Ichor to seek advice, and while he prayed, he witnessed the punishing of a conman who had been selling trinkets of fake Ichor, supposedly blessed by a saint that never existed. His scheme brought an idea to Etzba’s mind, and he took this lucky encounter as a sign from the Ichor that this was the path. He would then go to the priests of the temple and ask for several pieces of old vestments. They would grant him these items, each of which he would anoint with holy Ichor. Next he would consult the records of the various churches across the land, getting the names and locations of certain Church members. From the list he compiled, he would write each a special letter and include a torn piece of vestment as well. These messages would be sent out through the Church’s courier system, while he gathered the materials he needed to make the plan complete. He would use the remaining vestments for a special task, while he himself wore the clothes of a commoner. After enough time had passed, and Etzba was sure his letters reached their destination, he took his disguise and went out to find Sheelnagi.

When the wooden giant was spotted on the horizon, he was quick to stash his weapon and supplies. He would encounter the Teraknon with only these rags and an old tattered book of worship. Etzba secretly positioned himself in Sheelnagi’s path, so that the abomination would stumble upon him as she stomped to her next victim. When the monstrous titan was upon him, he played the role of a cowering peasant, begging The Consuming One for mercy. Sheelnagi looked down at the pitiful creature with disinterest.

“Save you pathetic mewlings,” she told him in disgust. “A worthless heap of rags like you is of no interest to me. Only the finest specimens shall be added to my collection.”

“Oh no,” cried out Etzba, “you don’t mean to take Saint Fictus! No! Please! Not him!” The name made Sheelnagi pause in her journey.

“Saint Fictus? Who is this you speak of?”

“Do you think I will buy such a lie?” Etzba asked the towering creature. “A great foe of the Church would know of Saint Fictus! He is such an important figure to many, truly a patron of knowledge and wisdom! No doubt you are on your way now to nab him for your twisted Mother!”

“Do not speak ill of Mother, cowering bug!” Sheelnagi snapped in anger. “This Saint you speak of, where does he dwell?”

“No! I mustn’t say! I cannot allow you to take him! What will the Church do without our beloved saint?!”

“Tell me now or else you shall join the other miserable wretches in my gullet!”

“Anything but that! Please!” Etzba conceded, acting terrified of such a fate. “I’ll tell you, but please spare me! He went north to Pinna, no doubt to hide from you!” Sheelnagi looked north, but did not stride away just yet.

“You best not be lying,” she threatened. “Or I will return and swallow you whole.”

“I swear to you that I speak the truth! Here, see this tome? Saint Fictus has touched it, leaving his mark. This is proof that I tell you no lies!” Sheelnagi was quick to send forth a tendril to nab this book. She brought the ragged pile of papers to her face and took a whiff. Indeed, a special scent was upon this tome, obviously belonging to this beloved saint. She would use this to hunt him down and consume him. From the sounds of it, he was a truly important figure of the Church, and thus it made him a prime target. Without another word, the giant walked off to Pinna to claim her prize. Once she was gone, Etzba retrieved his gear and headed to the spine ridges. The plan was in motion now, and he had to set up the finishing touches.

Sheelnagi would trek her way to the town of Pinna, in search of this Saint Fictus. Her arrival caused the citizens to run into their homes, all save for one. A faithful of the golden Church would stand before her and ask what business she had here.

“I have come for Saint Fictus,” she bellowed to him and the rest of the town. “Do not stand in my way unless you wish to share his fate.” The fellow who confronted simply shook his head.

“Unfortunately for you,” he admitted with worry, “your trek has been wasted. Saint Fictus heard you were coming, and he fled east to Oxter.” Sheelnagi rumbled at this in anger, causing the man to shrink in fear. “Please, I speak the truth! I have a piece of his stole right here! It tore off when he hurried out of town. If you do not believe me, search our settlement to your heart’s content, you will not find him here.” Sheelnagi grabbed the patch of cloth and sniffed it. Indeed, it had the very same scent. And when she lumbered around the town, she could not find the saint anywhere. It would seem that he did escape east. And so with an annoyed growl, she headed in that direction, towards Oxter.

What would soon follow was nothing more than a series of frustrations, as when she reached Oxter, she was informed that she had just missed the saint. The people said that Saint Fictus ran south to Hallux, and produced a piece of alb that carried his scent. And so came the long journey down south, only to be told once more that Saint Fictus was not there. They held a discarded cincture that the saint left behind in his hurry to escape The Consuming One, and informed her that he headed west to Chelidon. Sheelnagi knew she had to head that way to catch this prize, but she was getting tired from this endless journey. But if Saint Fictus was truly such an important figure for the Church, Mother would certainly want him captured. So she slowly lurched to Chelidon and let out a groan when the saint was nowhere to be found. All she got for her trouble was a chunk of chasuble and directions to head north once more. This time, though, the people said that Saint Fictus had fled to the spine ridges, hoping to lose her in the wilds. This at last gave hope, as it sounded like he was running out of hiding places. She sure hoped so, because traveling this many leagues was incredibly tiring.

Sheelnagi headed to the mountains, trying to find the scent of this annoying saint. Walking these slopes was not great when she was already exhausted, but she couldn’t stop now. Surely victory was close at hand! She searched between the spires of ivory, where great tusks reached towards the heavens. At last her persistence paid off, as she spied a small hut upon the mountainside. Using what little energy she still had, she hurried to the pitiful dwelling and used her tendrils to rip the roof off. To her relief, a figure decked out in the Church’s vestments was hiding under a table. She could see pieces missing from his clothes, and the scent was the same too. She had finally found Saint Fictus! Without missing a beat, she sent forth a mass of tendrils to snare this prize and quickly suck him into her body. To be sure he would never escape again, she jammed him far back in her Amber guts, where he would pay for the sin of wasting her time and energy. But little did she know that this had been a ruse, as what she swallowed was nothing more than a dummy wearing Church clothes. Well, save for the unstable containers of Yellow Bile that had been stuffed inside the bait.

When she forced the fake saint into her gullet, the pressure cracked these flasks and caused the humor to leak. Its volatile nature would quickly cause a chain reaction, and suddenly her latest prize exploded within. The blast was powerful, but the thick layers of Amber suppressed it, preserving the prisoners and avoiding real harm for befalling her. However, the great bubble it formed in the Amber scrambled her insides and made her woozy. It disoriented her as she struggled to get over the wretched feeling of her own guts boiling. As the titan stood dazed, Etzba leapt forth from his hiding spot. With a mighty heave, he launched his hammer at Sheelnagi, nailing her right between the eyes with it. On its own, this blow would have done nothing but annoy her. However, the weariness from her travels and the disruption from the internal blast had weakened her, causing her to teeter on her own two feet. The strike to the forehead was enough to knock the unstable Teraknon right off her balance. Tendrils flailed and she teetered, but she couldn’t stop gravity from winning out. Sheelnagi’s massive body fell over, where she would land on a towering spike of ivory that jutted from the earth. The giant spear impaled her, killing her on the spot.

With her titanic body now still, Etzba summoned the forces of the Church to help him in rescuing her prisoners. Thankfully, their Amber prisons had protected them from both the explosion and impaling. With the right equipment and fluids, all the victims in her last haul were successfully extracted. They were a bit woozy from the imprisonment but unharmed, grateful to be freed from this horrible and cruel fate. Her giant corpse would be harvested for its wood and Amber. The wooden parts would be used in crafting the shafts of the arrows and harpoons that would be used against Miteras. Some of the Amber would join that battle, but the rest was used for containing the Church’s own prisoners. Those deemed too dangerous or heretical would be sealed away in this Amber, keeping their evils from spreading any further. And by keeping them out of the great cycle, they were preventing their taint from infecting others. The worst of these frozen criminals and sinners would be locked away in the Golden Vault of Carceratum, while others would be kept in other prison temples across the land. At last, the vile pieces of this monster were being used for peace and justice.

This tale of victory over Sheelnagi also led to the humorous acceptance of Saint Fictus in the minds of the followers of the Church. Though not officially recognized as one, the people of gold hold Saint Fictus as the patron of conmen, hyperbolic storytellers and deals that are too good to be true. For when calling out someone for ludicrous claims or tall tales, the name of Fictus will be jokingly invoked. When you hear someone regaling a friend about an impossible bargain or a catch that seemingly grows with each telling, you will probably hear “Ah! And blessed by Saint Fictus, I imagine!”

#monster #creature #tree monster #plant monster #amber #art #drawing #fall of ichor

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