In this post we return to Chelmsey, site of a mystical struggle to close a dreaded Chaos Well. You may have noted in the post describing the village, that I neglected to locate the Chaos Well itself. The reason is simple: the Well itself is placed beyond the village itself, in a fold in the hills to the north. It is reached by following the road that passes beneath Zajepurti's monument. When it is reached, however, one might be struck by how...tranquil...it at first appears. All that can be seen is a shallow valley with a quiet lake - scarce more than a pond, really - at its northern end. At the centre of the pool is a tiny island, no more than 40' across, with a black crypt-like structure standing on it, ringed by poplars, willows and maples.
A little more scrutiny will reveal some unsettling details: the lovely verdure of the lawns rolling down to the pool is somehow too green, and it is not quite the colour of healthy grass. The slightly sickening emerald hue communicates an almost desperate urge to grow, as if the grass itself is trying to flee the soil in which it is rooted. In addition, the water of the pool surges sluggishly, and not with the wind. The trees that fringe the black vault on the island lean away from that water, and in the shadows between them, small indeterminate shapes of grey and red dart from branch to branch.
When those tasked with capping the Well came here, there was no lake, simply a deep cavity in the ground with one narrow pinnacle rising up from the floor of the pit - or what was assumed to be the floor of the pit, for it was lost in the frenzied swirling of a heavy, varicoloured mist. Occasional fountains of chromatic energy would leap into the sky, rainbow shouts of Chaos scathing the open air. By means of a mighty ritual, the mist was sealed behind walls of essential force. The pit was then filled with blessed water and the vault built atop the pinnacle to protect the magical artifact (whose nature is unknown, even to the observers in Chelmsey) that maintains the force-walls. Finally, acolytes of Kamizadros planted eldritch trees around the vault to shield it from any interlopers.
Yet, looking at the Well, it is obvious to the experienced eye that the power of Chaos still pulses powerfully here, afflicting earth, water and tree. That it is still contained - at least partially - is evident, otherwise the Chaotic energies would run free, just as they did a century earlier. But that the defences are slowly being corrupted seems beyond doubt.
Goblin by Armandeo64 - Own work (http://armandeo64.deviantart.com/), CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=45974364
Unfortunately, the observers have been unable to interest their superiors - so far - in the slow erosion of the force wards. And the leakage of Chaotic power has had other results, too: it is calling to those whose hearts and souls resonate to the rhythms of Chaos. In the hills to the north, as yet unnoticed, Goblins and other, more dangerous creatures are gathering, though they know not why. All they know is that this place - in the heart of one of the most stable and powerful human realms - feels right to them, and is summoning more of their kind with strange, dark dreams of power unmatched, waiting for a strong hand to wield it...
When those tasked with capping the Well came here, there was no lake, simply a deep cavity in the ground with one narrow pinnacle rising up from the floor of the pit - or what was assumed to be the floor of the pit, for it was lost in the frenzied swirling of a heavy, varicoloured mist. Occasional fountains of chromatic energy would leap into the sky, rainbow shouts of Chaos scathing the open air. By means of a mighty ritual, the mist was sealed behind walls of essential force. The pit was then filled with blessed water and the vault built atop the pinnacle to protect the magical artifact (whose nature is unknown, even to the observers in Chelmsey) that maintains the force-walls. Finally, acolytes of Kamizadros planted eldritch trees around the vault to shield it from any interlopers.
Yet, looking at the Well, it is obvious to the experienced eye that the power of Chaos still pulses powerfully here, afflicting earth, water and tree. That it is still contained - at least partially - is evident, otherwise the Chaotic energies would run free, just as they did a century earlier. But that the defences are slowly being corrupted seems beyond doubt.
Unfortunately, the observers have been unable to interest their superiors - so far - in the slow erosion of the force wards. And the leakage of Chaotic power has had other results, too: it is calling to those whose hearts and souls resonate to the rhythms of Chaos. In the hills to the north, as yet unnoticed, Goblins and other, more dangerous creatures are gathering, though they know not why. All they know is that this place - in the heart of one of the most stable and powerful human realms - feels right to them, and is summoning more of their kind with strange, dark dreams of power unmatched, waiting for a strong hand to wield it...
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