Mycelyix's Story

The following is extra lore written by Unseen_Miner about Mycelyix and his revival.

Prelude
"Let's start at the beginning shall we? To understand The Purge, you must first know about the history of our people and our Lord. There was a time when the Sired Divines started to become known, a time called The Deiotakas.

Only three Deities were known to exist, Planu, Pallus and Zelphair. Planu was the god of the founders of Templehelm, God of the Emeraldites. Ancient Lore tells us of very strange and deadly occurrences, tales of Ravines swallowing men, the Cold storms freezing those who fell in their grasp solid. Sometime later, though luck or fear, Mortals discovered that worship and piety toward one of these entities would be their salvation. That is what we are told by the Emeraldites, and we agree with them, but this is where our Lore and theirs splits off..."

The Leader paused for a moment after his last few words, the others in the background began muttering again...

"As the Sired Divines grew in strength a common thought ran between them, Flaws. Each of them had certain Flaw, one that could drive their followers away, one that they need to get rid of. Cavilon's greed; Netherna's rage; Wildaven's passive, uncaring attitude; Wintival's lack of emotion; Deserma's jealousy; Akwal's mood swings.

The Sired Divines would not live with these Flaws, they would rid themselves of it. They gathered at a place that none cared for, a place where only one lived. They traveled to the cursed Mycelium Islands, or as some Mortals called them, the Plague Lands. The only being that lived there was a spirit by the name of Mycelyix. This lonely spirit ruled over the Mycelium Islands and nothing more, nothing of importance, no one would care...."

The speaker Voice had a slight tone of anger to it as he continued on with his story.

"The Sired Divines worked forth a ritual to rid themselves of their Flaws, but a entity was needed to absolve them, Mycelyix would serve this purpose. The ritual worked as the Sired Divines had intended, their Flaws had left them. Cavilon no longer swallowed up Mortals, and was content with his underground riches. Netharna could now control her anger, and rarely acted on the over world. Wildaven now watched the jungles and wilds carefully. Winitval had gained and understood how to express emotion to the Mortals. Deserma no longer looked at the others with jealousy. Akwal was at peace, his tides no longer present.

The Sired Divines now free of their Flaws, returned to their domains, forgetting of our Mycelyix..." The speaker exhaled quite loudly, as if disappointed.

"You see, they saw Flaws as a Mortals burden. Why would any worship a Flawed Divine? They wouldn't, our Sired Divines knew that..."

Syzar listened closely this story. He knew that one day the role would fall on him to relay this story.

"And now, I shall tell you about Mycelyix...how he dealt with this...."

The Village (1/2)
"Mycelyix, had been a minor Spirit since the creation of the world. He had risen from the power of the Mycelium Lands. These lands are rare and cover a very small part of Templehelm; if perhaps Mycelium had been more common Mycelyix would have become a Deity in the beginning, then all of this would have never happened...

Mycelyix, just as any granted with such power, decided test the limits. Thus, Mycelyix set his sights on a small village.

Our Lord watched this Village, with a feeling of disgust. Just the sight of these men and women in the Fertile valley where they lived; the Lush Green Jungle sat at the end of the Valley while a Sparkling River ran through the middle of it...hideous. Every day they went about the same routine, Farming, Fishing, Praying to Akwal and Wildaven, not a moment spent on self-improvement, they seemed content within in this dull live, ignorant to the rest of Templehelm. Living in Huts, always smiling with not a single care between them."

The speaker paused for a moment. "Our Lord watched them for weeks before he intervened. He began to grow angry at these carefree souls living with no problems, no conflict like the rest of Templehelm did."

"With Jealously in his eyes, Mycelyix sent forth just a few of his Spores into the Jungle. Within moments of landing on the leaves they began to decayed almost instantly; once the Spores spread to the Trees they began to Twist and Distort, the dark brown bark turning to Black. Still the Spores spread, traveling into the roots seeping into the ground; the Jungle floor turning into Mycelium, mushrooms already beginning to sprout. The river bank becoming Black where the water touched the Polluted surface. The Black film began leeching across the river, leaving only a trial of dead fish as it approached the Village..."

The speaker had a tone of almost joy as he reached this part of the story.

The Village (2/2)
The simple-minded fisherman sat basking on one of many finely crafted docks in the unusually cool night, the sun ever approaching the horizon. Watching the river reflecting the red aura of the sun, he noticed the darkness further down the river, he stared with curiosity as it seemed to approach him. Once it reached the dock beneath him his ignorance got the better of him. With a leap of blind faith in Akwal he dove in, perhaps believing it was a test by his Deity.

Mycelyix had been enjoying the view of the now Tainted Jungle when he heard the most perfect cry of horror, perhaps the first cry of horror ever to break the wonderful perfection of this Paradise. His focus returned to the Village. The crowd that had been gathering at the at the Village center had formed a circle around that poor fisherman, or what was left of him. Being of Akwal was most unfortunate, perhaps being of Wildaven would have spared him slightly; but it would matter not, his fate was sealed.

The Black water he had foolishly jumped into acted as acid to his Pure skin. The moment he touched the water, he immediately thrashed out of it. Only by some miracle did he climb onto the shore, and staggered into the Village center. The last thing he saw was the faces of his close friends and family staring down at his body with disgust and horror. The priest of Akwal quickly pushed his way through the crowd to see the man. The man’s tunic had been completely destroyed except for the small sections that had been burned into into his muscle and bone. Almost all the skin had taken a liquid state and was beginning to mix with the puddle of blood below. Lastly the priest noticed a small Red Mushroom that had sprouted on the man’s now visible heart; the priest decided to remove this insult to purity off man’s heart, he had least deserved that. The priest grabbed the Mushroom and plucked it off the fisherman.

The Sun had risen to its highest point, the bodies now baking in the heat gave off the perfect smell. The once busy Village center was now nothing more than a heap of bodies with fragments of the fisherman at its center. The priests body lay near him his arm completely destroyed. The rest of the Villagers lay around half dissolved turned into mere puddles by the explosion. The Death and Decay in the Village, the Polluted River and the Twisted Jungle made this the most beautiful day in Paradise...