10.2 Thulsa’s Doom?

Part X: Death takes a Vacation
Chapter 2: Thulsa’s Doom?
Timeline AO 300

My vacation was still in full swing as I made my way around Ramos.

The jungle whispered with the secrets of ages, its dense foliage concealing the ancient city of Thulsa like a jealous lover. Here, in the heart of Ramos, Inanna—known to her subjects as Sindra, the Goddess of Lust—had established her first domain centuries ago. Thulsa was a place of shadows and sin, a city that pulsed with the lifeblood of the Oro River, which snaked through the jungle like a dark vein. The city, once a primitive settlement, had grown under Sindra’s divine hand into a thriving metropolis, where the people worshipped their goddess with rites that would make the blood run cold in the veins of lesser beings.

I knew Thulsa was ruled by a lineage of kings known as the “Ssu-Ra,” a title that carried with it the weight of divine mandate. The current king, Ssu-Ra Val’Khaz, was a man of immense power and ambition, his very bloodline steeped in the dark rituals of the city. He was a tall, imposing figure, his body adorned with the ceremonial tattoos of his ancestors, each marking a rite, a sacrifice, a conquest. His eyes, cold and calculating, betrayed the knowledge of more than a century, for he, like many before him, had drunk deeply from the chalice of adenochrome, the blood of the sacrificed, which granted him strength, youth, and a perverse kind of quasi-immortality (at least among mortals).

Thulsa itself was a city of contrasts—its architecture a blend of primal brutality and divine elegance. The streets were narrow and winding, lined with stone buildings covered in creeping vines, their surfaces etched with the symbols of the serpent cult that dominated the city. At the center of Thulsa stood the Great Temple of Sindra, a towering ziggurat that seemed to pierce the sky. It was here that the blood rites were performed, where the heart of the city beat strongest, and where the faithful came to offer their lives in devotion to their goddess.

The elite of Thulsa lived in opulent mansions, hidden behind high walls and guarded by statues of coiled serpents. Their lives were a never-ending cycle of decadence and depravity, full of feasts of blood and flesh, as they sought to curry favor with Sindra and gain more of the dark power that coursed through their veins. The poor, on the other hand, lived in squalor, their only hope of escape the possibility of being chosen as a sacrifice—a twisted honor that promised an eternity in Sindra’s embrace.

It was into this world of shadows and blood that I descended, my mind fixed on the Temple of Shadows that Inanna had whispered to me about. I moved through the jungle like a specter, my presence unnoticed by the denizens of Thulsa until I might choose to reveal myself. The night was deep when I reached the city, the air thick with the scent of decay and the distant sounds of drums, echoing from the temple at the city’s heart.

I didn’t enter Thulsa by the main gates. That would have been too simple, too pedestrian for a being of my stature. Instead, I emerged from the shadows of the jungle, slipping through the city’s defenses with ease. The night guards, though vigilant against mortal threats, were blind to my approach. I crossed the narrow streets, my presence disturbing the torches that flickered in the windless night, causing them to gutter and flare as though sensing the malevolence that now walked among them.

My goal was the palace of Ssu-Ra Val’Khaz, a sprawling structure on the edge of the city, where the jungle had been cut back to accommodate the king’s luxurious gardens and reflecting pools. The palace was a dark jewel in the midst of the city, its walls covered in carvings that depicted the serpent god whom the Ssu-Ra claimed as their ancestor, and the rites by which they maintained their dominion.

Naturally I entered the palace without challenge. The guards stationed at the doors were frozen in place as I passed, their eyes glassy and unfocused as though entranced by some unseen force. I moved through the opulent halls, my steps silent, my presence a mere shadow among shadows, until I reached the chamber where Ssu-Ra Val’Khaz held court.

The king was alone, seated upon a throne carved from the redwood of the jungle, its surface polished to sheen. Ssu-Ra Val’Khaz was draped in silks and gold, his head crowned with a serpent diadem, its eyes twin rubies that seemed to pulse with an inner light. In his hand, I could see that he held a cup of adenochrome, the blood thick and dark, swirling slowly as he idly swirled it – I have to admit I was a bit jealous and made a point that I would consume some before this night was over.

The throne room was quaint compared to my Gallery of Unholy Death back at The Cauldron – this one lit by a dozen braziers, their flames casting eerie shadows that danced on the walls, but despite the light, a chill hung in the air. I appeared before the king as if I had always been there, my form solidifying from the darkness that clung to the corners of the chamber.

Ssu-Ra Val’Khaz, though taken by surprise, did not react with fear. Instead, he smiled, revealing sharp, predatory teeth, a byproduct of the serpent blood that flowed through his veins.

“Azazel,” the king greeted, his voice a deep rumble. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

My eyes glinted with a dangerous light. “I’m here for answers, Val’Khaz. Inanna—Sindra—mentioned a place. The Temple of Shadows. I believe you know where it is.”

The king’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a subtle flicker that I did not miss. Val’Khaz set down the cup of blood and leaned forward, his serpentine eyes narrowing. “The Temple of Shadows is a place of legend,” he said slowly, “a relic of an age long past, before even Sindra came to Ramos. What business does a lumenarc have with such a place?”

My expression hardened, not taking kindly that a mortal would ever question me. “That’s for me to know. I’m not here to indulge your curiosity, little man. I’m here to find the temple, and you will tell me where it is.”

Val’Khaz’s eyes darted to the side, betraying his unease. “The temple lies deep within the jungle, outside the city’s gates,” he admitted. “It is a place of great power, where the spirits of the fallen dwell. But it is also a place of great danger. The spirits are restless, and they do not welcome intruders.”

“I’m not afraid of a few restless spirits,” I said coldly. “Now, tell me how to find it.”

The king hesitated for a moment, weighing his options, before finally relenting. “There is a path,” he said, his voice low. “A hidden trail that begins in the ruins of Thulsa. It winds through the jungle, through the darkest parts where the light of the sun never reaches. Follow it, and it will lead you to the temple.”

My eyes never left the king’s face, studying him intently. “And what else? You’re holding something back, Val’Khaz.”

The king’s jaw tightened, but he knew better than to lie. “The spirits,” he said quietly. “They demand a price for entry. Blood, and lots of it. Only the blood of the sacrificed will appease them and allow you to pass.”

At that I smiled, a thin, predatory smile. “Blood is something I can provide. Your lucky it’s not yours.” As he blanched, I added. “Thank you for your cooperation, Val’Khaz. Pray that you don’t have reason to regret it.”

Having gotten what I came for I vanished into the shadows, leaving the king alone in his chamber, the chill of my presence surely lingering long after I was gone.