By Al Baker
Locked in Time…
Near the whispering plumes of the Ashen Twins, lies the ruins of a once magnificent city. Drifts of ashen grey snow wash along streets that were once filled with life many centuries ago. Called “Pruinaz” by those who came across it, this city remains locked in the cold, pallid claws of time. Under the dreary, overcast sky, all is not still and silent within its walls. Amidst soot-covered towers, shops, mansions and homes, the dead walk.
The inhabitants, long perished from a cataclysmic tragedy eons ago, haltingly move about in parody of life. Clothes and skin encased in pallid dust, many of them go about the tasks they were engaged in before their sudden demise. These sad caricatures of the past are eternally trapped in a cycle of toil and tedium.
Venturing further into the sprawling metropolis, where the buildings are more grandiose, this is not the case. The elites and aristocracy, while still moving with a stiffened gait, clearly have more of a will. Though much time has passed since they drew breath, they still plot and scheme to further their power and ambitions. All of these courtly machinations permitted under the all-pervading gaze of the Tornasus, the King Entombed!
Though called "Pruinazi" by the local inhabitants, the dead of the sprawling ruin of Pruinaz have been given another name; the ashencold. These poor, unfortunate souls are trapped in the physical world by the horror of their ash crusted bodies and the indomitable will of The King Entombed. When not moving about in the doomed cycle of the past, they have been seen falling under the sway of those of stronger will, becoming chattel. Many of the more willful of the dead of Pruinaz can be found among the city’s once affluent, though there have been exceptions.
Once in a while, an ashencold’s mind can reawaken from their fugue state, coming to the realization of their plight. This can result in ashencold rampaging through the streets, venting their rage and confusion on whatever is within reach. When this fury has played out, the wakened ashencold will come to terms with its situation. If their will is strong enough, the awakened may strive to make those around them into chattel and grow their own influence. Others will seek out their kin and loved ones to shepherd them to places on the outskirts of the city, hoping they too will awaken. Fewer still leave the city, seeking either a cure for their condition or final release from their cursed form.
Beyond the common rabble of the city, are the expansive manses and grand estates of Pruinazi’s upper echelon. Within ancient walls, whispered secrets haunt dusty hallways. Amidst elegant gardens full of corrupted foliage and trees bearing glowing fruit, the undead affluent plot.
During the city’s peak, there were many wealthy and noble families that gained their power either through royal favor, political maneuvering or monetary influence. However, attainment of this lofty status was oftentimes not enough. Luxury and wealth did not guarantee a peaceful life. These families would engage in subterfuge, bribery and even assassination, to further their ambitions. In the game of power, alliances were born, factions formed, and treachery became the rule of the day.
After the pyroclastic embrace and the power of the Ashencold Curse claimed the city, many wealthy families were lost. As the centuries passed, the new dynamic of dominance began to hold sway. Where once power was gained through fame, wealth or power, now it is attained through strength of will and number of chattel. Most of the aristocratic houses have now been consolidated into five Great Demesnes, each vying for supremacy. Contests and disputes arise over territory and chattel, as the Eternal Dance for supremacy carries on.
During the late Transition period of Kandris, the boy who would become The King Entombed was born into a family that ruled a small kingdom for over three centuries. As a boy, Tornasus was precocious and affable, with a magnetic charisma that marked him as a king. All throughout his youth and tutelage, he amazed those around him with his understanding of politics, economics and statecraft. His royal parents were overjoyed at the almost limitless potential of their son and the kingdom’s future.
Sadly, tragedy occurred while he was scarcely out of his adolescence. A powerful earthquake struck the kingdom, damaging many buildings, even the palace. Once the rumblings subsided, a full third of the land was destroyed. Many tears were shed at the loss of homes and loved ones. Chiefly among them was the young prince. His parents were both crushed under rubble found in a nearby hallway. Tornasus was weighed down under the terrible realization that his mother and father were taken from him. Fearing chaos and instability, the young man was hastily crowned king.
As the people buried their dead and tried to rebuild, the surviving courtiers plotted and positioned, each seeking to gain control over the brilliant, but untested new king. Not a small amount of blood was spilled in attempts to secure power in the coming regime. Overcoming his grief and inexperience, Tornasus expertly pitted them against one another. This ensured that no one faction could gain too much influence and pose a threat to his power. Time passed and the young man became a master of not only his domain, but the inner workings of the region, shaping his kingdom into a true political power.
The kingdom’s influence spread far beyond its borders, and it enjoyed a veritable golden era under Tornasus’s rule. This promising time came to an end suddenly, when two of the nearby mountains suddenly erupted. Before anyone could register what happened, a titanic cloud of volcanic ash swept over the entire capital city. Everything, from the furthest outskirts to the royal palace, was claimed by the fury. Unwilling to relinquish the city and kingdom he had sacrificed for, Tornasus’s unyielding will and spirit clung to the mortal world and all he considered his, from the smallest blade of grass to the grandest estate. Centuries passed until the planet finally rested from its traveling. Now with the strange forces that course through the land, the dead of the city now called Pruinaz are walking, forever bound by the baleful edict of their king.
Although given a wide berth by the nearby communities and settlements, the strange condition of Pruinaz draws the attention of the daring and curious. Many expeditions have set off into the sullen ruin of the city and returned with many artifacts and new knowledge of the area’s history. However, it is often the case that some, if not all, of the party are lost in the effort. Those that survive the trip may be wounded in one way or another. Regardless of the results, the local inhabitants will avoid these explorers at all cost. This custom is stringently enforced, as the people here have learned a hard lesson; any who enter and leave the city may soon return to it, permanently.
The Curse of Ashencold or the Ashencold Curse, is a slow and deadly malediction. Any physical contact with either the residents, buildings or anything within Pruinaz’s environs has a high chance of inflicting this curse. Those afflicted will begin growing patches of light gray ash on various places on their body. Over time, as more ash patches will appear, the victim will begin moving in a stiffened manner. If left untreated, the afflicted will die within a few days. Sometime after their death, unless the body is cremated, the victim will resurrect as undead. Whatever clothing and goods were buried with them will appear rotted or crusted in ashes, regardless of passage of time. The newly risen ashencold will begin marching wordlessly and unerringly towards the city of Pruinaz, adding to its population.
