It looks like some combination of the passage of hundreds of years, hostile spellcraft and the elements have destroyed whatever the first generation built here. I'm a little surprised that there isn't some sort of monument here, but I suppose that would be somewhat out of character for the practical Columbians to build something they didn't have a material need for.
"How did it get like this? I mean, this whole continent has been pretty heavily forested."
I suspect some ravaging form of magic. Like in Dark Sun - something that rips the life out of the land itself...
Our guide, a local man named Peter, shrugs.
"Which part? This land is not a joyful place."
"The soil. If this happened in Melmoth's era, it should have recovered by now."
Yeah, whatever went down here left its mark.
Abednego considers my question. "I think it started with rampaging Sheeda-beasts." He pats his spider on the head. "They be wont to run riot when unbound."
"And that damages the soil?"
Like Kaiju in Pacific Rim... Toxic bodily fluids, so that killing them causes just as much damage as letting them run rampant...
"Much of their bodies are poisonous, and their habits are destructive. They are made for our labour, not to be a free part of Creation. The soil needs creatures to maintain it, and they were not proof against such things."
"Al.. right."
Sounds like
something killed the creatures native to the planet, and replaced them with controllable counterparts of Sheeda manufacture.
"We lack goodly records of the fight with Melmoth, but battle magics which drain vitality come natural to such as us."
Anarawd twitches, earning a curious narrowing of the eyes from Abednego.
Trying to hold back your irritation at the rubes trying to understand their 'betters' working, knife-ears?
"Some part of this could be from then, but I suspect that the greater part of it is more recent." Peter glares at the back of Abednego's head. "How long ago was it, witch-man?"
"Eighty years, or thereabouts."
"What was?"
Don't tell me. There was a battle between Witch-hunters and warlock-breed. And the former (or maybe the latter) dropped some serious shit?
Peter glowers. "An unwise warlock came here, searching for the means to undo the changes her body had gone through. Witch-hunters followed and found our town."
"Your town? Did they scout the area?"
No doubt seeking to hunt down 'all heretics in the name of the true faith' or some rot like that..
"Nay. We used to live here. 'Tis the obvious thing to do, when you are no longer welcome in Columbia. The Sheeda-beasts live here in larger numbers than anywhere else, and there is the lure of finding relics. We gave the warlock refuge… But we did not spot the witch-hunters."
"And they did this? Or… No. They went back and got friends."
Abednego sighs. "Aye. That was the last time the might of Columbia was roused in wrath."
A massed mobilisation of Witch-hunters, or did they involve a citizen levy too? Not covering yourself in glory here, Columbian.
I look around the blasted landscape.
"Alright. An indiscriminate bombardment… Because the Columbians didn't know exactly what you had or-."
"Or they did not care."
Still some hard feelings, I see.
"This is a pretty enthusiastic bombardment. I've only seen long arms with enchanted bullets."
Abednego raises his right arm and points to a.. shallow pond a short distance away.
I doubt they have the resources to craft cannons... So, magic then.
"Witch-hunters mostly hunt warlocks and Sheeda-beasts, or apprehend more common criminals. But some have knowledge of true battle magics. They are not much called for…"
"The first our grandparents knew of it, the mere touch of the land burned all who stood upon it."
Sounds
nasty. I'm guessing an attempt at an alpha strike to take down as many as possible.
"Didn't they have defences?"
"Aye, wards to detect the beasts, or tell us when a new warlock was coming in case they were one of the truly mad. We remember Klarion even now."
I doubt the Witch Boy endeared himself to the warlock-breed. Much too capricious to make friends, when he can have
playthings instead...
"Good news on that score."
"We know that he left these lands."
"No, I mean that he's dead. I was part of the team that finished him."
That'll probably earn him a few beers in the taverns when news spreads. Not that he partakes.
"That is good news. But what one madman did, another can do as well."
"There's a way around that, but… Yes."
Yes, they'd have to be skilled enough, and loony enough, to make a play for a Lordship...
He frowns. "What way?"
"There's a limit on the number of Lords of Chaos who can be active in a particular area. If someone who isn't a criminal lunatic does it and then sticks around, you don't have to worry about someone who is doing it." I frown. "Um, sorry. Off-topic. So they weren't prepared for a Columbian attack?"
Which also raises the question: Is there a local Lord in play here, or was Witchworld simply part of Klarion's parcel? Which would make it John Constantine's now. Poor bastards.
"No. They were not. Our protections are somewhat stronger, now. And we too study the magic of war."
"I've offered to just move all your people to somewhere else on the planet."
And been largely rebuffed. No doubt some youngsters might be plucky enough to go for it...
"Would that stop the Columbians coming for us?"
"It would make it far harder for them, and give you time to entrench yourselves."
Unless they could travel long distances, whether in the way Abednego does or other methods, there'd be little chance of them going looking.
"And our crops? And our beasts?"
"Crops I can move. Beasts… You'd have to make arrangements for them, but yes."
And now I'm picturing him picking up whole fields at a time, and plonking them down in a new location.
"And what would it cost us?"
"You wouldn't be here to pick up anyone who goes warlock in the future. You wouldn't have access to-" I look around again. "-this place, but if you weren't getting much out of it anyway-."
And there's always someone looking for power, or desperate enough to break the laws, to produce more Warlocks.
"If they were not getting much out of it then there were not looking correctly."
Anarawd raises his hands and gestures, a thin tower that looks like it was grown from coral shimmering into view. Peter and Abednego both blink, staring at it.
Oh, that was a gross oversight of safety. But I doubt they expected him to be able to use magic.
"Dark Melmoth may have hidden his tools from human eyes, but he made little effort to hide them from ours. Or perhaps he did, and time or his death has unmade them."
Mr Yao lays his right hand on the door, humming quietly for a moment.
"And what lays within?"
Yes, keep him monologuing. He's bound to let something slip he shouldn't.
"My salvation." I frown as Anarawd looks around the group. "You will not defeat the Harrowing. Your future is in our blood. But the Queen will have my body given to the digestion vats if I return as I am now. My only way to buy myself back into her good graces is to discover Dark Melmoth's plans, and convey that information to her. My colleagues and I did not do more than a brief survey of the outer parts. We felt that the risk did not outweigh the reward. But if what you want is in here then our interests coincide."
And if you should just happen to find something capable of killing the humans without risk to yourself,
well, that's just a bonus. Bloody knife-ear.
I narrow my eyes-. Looks like he's telling the truth, and the witch-people went over him for arcane defences so I suspect that it's genuine. I nod to Mr Yao.
"As you say. Take us inside, and show us what you have found so far."
Okay, OL, time to play the Rogue. Just remember the golden rule...
Never split the party!