Human Form

Sarku Described

The ancient beast which reigned over the castle and lands was a solitary creature, one who was quite insane. For ages he had seldom left his sanctuary unless it was to chase trespassers away. He was a shapeshifter whose forms often got tangled together. He had long lost sense of what his true form was. An immense scaled elephant with a dragon's tail, which breathed an assortment of elements, was his most formidable form and the one he had once most often defended his isolated territory with. He just could not quite register that it was his bizarre albeit impressive form which attracted curious intruders now and again.

Feline limbs altered their state into humanoid legs and arms, paws into long fingers tipped with blue-grey claws, not unlike those of the leopard he was burying deep within him. Fur receded into beautifully browned pigmented flesh the color of red clay, smooth and supple as a child's while the physical coils he reclaimed were a man's in his prime; sinewy, chiseled, as powerful as the animals' he swapped for his true shape. Tribal tattoos sleeved his arms, his thighs and formed patterns on his chest, back, posterior and even his cheeks and brow. There was also a tattooed band around his throat of knotted symbols. They were runic pictograms in the shapes of animals representing one group; a snake for reptiles, a leopard for mammals, a raptor for birds, a dragon for sentient beasts, a salamander for amphibians, a shark for fish, a scorpion for arachnids, a moth for lepidopterans, a locust for arthropods, and a snail for gastropods. There were also cryptic symbols which tied into each group and those beasts he had joined with, the marking elaborate and at the same time archaic.

As the Shapeshifter unfolded his humanoid form, he was nearly as well made as his master; his long auburn hair spilling both loose and in thin braids on his shoulders. His blue, green and grey mottled eyes, flecked with sienna were natural to him, as were the slit pupils, his claws, fangs, and the pair of chiroptera type wings vesting his shoulders with membranes attached to the waist.

Reaching the golden lady the unclothed Shapeshifter, now in his true fallen guise, swept Galaxy into his arms to embrace her, his wings swathing her as his lips sealed hers in a kiss as purely animal, desirous, sensual and adoring in its dominance as his embrace and the far too intomate ways that he touched her..He tasted her deeply for a moment and shared with her his flavor all things sweet and tropical as that same fragrance covered her over; hence he released her and withdrew a step, his gaze locked on her with smoldering gravity, his wings and arms still curled around her protectively. "Such is this one's love for his father, maker, and Lord, that he can only love the lady with the gold spun hair and heart with all that he is. If Sarku's beloved friend thinks him treacherous, she mistakes this heart and those intentions harbored within. As my true name is Seth and Siaph, the first who fell with his master when he was cast out of the Kingdom of Light, I love you, and would be forever constant at the Golden Lady's side, as a lover, a friend, a confident, to fill the lonely hours her husband is away. This one's father knows the soul which drums in this chest in whatever form he takes and as such knows I wish as much to please him as you by offering all that I am to you. If an equal you wish me to be, this is what Sarku and Siaph, and Seth have to offer as an equal. Rejected the protection of this one he did, when once he spun time backwards and by doing so lost his throne. Silenced was this voice when it implored all of the Morning Star's children with all its heart to wait Lucifer's return and not act hasty in passing his torch to the other who now owns him. All that is done now, and time flows with these matters ever forward. Let me protect you, please you, be your ever faithful, present and devout companion, Golden Lady, I implore you. You deserve love as faithful as the heart, soul and body this beast of an angel offers to you." Now he spoke with all the splinters of his passion, and now he knelt to her to clasp both her hands in his, and now he bowed his head to her. "This one is yours if you would but have him." Now he fell silent in wait of her response.

It seemed the ancient fallen angel of dominations either had no fear of his dark father, was willing to die for what he believed in, or was negligent to consider how Maelmorda would take to his old friend and guardian offering his love to his wife. None of this was the case though. As he knew he loved Maelmorda and Galaxy, he knew his maker wanted him to love the lady who filled his heart with all that was good. She lifted the shadows and filled him with her light. Had he not loved her with all the vast mysteries of his soul he never would have been able to shift into his angel form for her. The Morning Star no longer had a wish to bring the shadows to his only wife. No, he was content to have done that with their golden haired son. Sarku's long, thick strands of silky soft hair veiled his handsomely chiseled facial features and his inhuman eyes as he awaited her first impressions of his offer with bated breaths. As he remained there on bent knee; scales the color of his skin but smooth and glassy covered him over but for his privates, the palms of his hands, and lips, and they too were as natural to him as that milky smooth, arcane painted skin beneath. All that the Tsetar Shapeshifter was or that was within him was natural to him in truth; the beasts and the elements he could beckon at his whim; much as his creator and the devil or demon, one in the same which claimed him simply were what they were.

His maker's beloved rejected him, of course she would, and did so as gently as she could. Sarku was saddened that the golden lady would be so lonely but he would stand by her as her friend and guardian until the stars blinked out.

Divine Beast Form

Gothtyrdan Described by Sarku

The castle was between a high cliff and a secluded beach, it grounds terraced before it met the sheer precipice of the cliffs or sloped to the pale sands which leveled to greet the sea. It was south of Hawker's Fort on the shore of the Wild Horse Grasslands. The guardian's name was Sarku. He had no middle or surname. Strangely, Maelmorda was one of the few creatures he trusted. His fortress was as much the Morning Star's as it was his.

“This place was carved out of the cliffs above and around it, and stories high and low burrow deep into the earth beyond and beneath the precipice face.” His furry clawed hands ran along the unevenly smooth stone walls. They were a dark grey which looked black when wet and unbroken by cracks. “The towers which rise up with the sea cliffs and gaze over the ocean are solid stone like the rest. There are four gate towers, two west and two south. The south gate meets the road by the draw bridge. The west gate opens from a garden to steps which descend to the beach. Once long ago, ships were berthed in a sea cave reached from the northern stretch of the beach. There is no other protection for ships, no cove or bay. A gate there was there, a mighty one, back before the dark one came and made Sarku humble and…” He realized his mind was wandering and with it his tongue so broke off and then got back on track. “Many rooms and chambers are there here…The fourth to sixth floors are a maze of halls, passages and chambers, for built this place for his master this one did, and his maker he loves labyrinths. Six great towers are there, two on each corner west and east, those east are against the cliff, and from them doors access tunnels and chambers carved into the cliff. The west towers tower high and overlook the ocean, the eastern towers even high spy the land in beyond the crag.” By that he meant the eastern land above the cliffs, which was mostly open grassland with scattered trees and copses.

“The last two towers rise up from the castle center, and are joined by an arching bridge. Running horses are carved there the length of the bridge of both sides. The animals and creatures Nik and Sage see which lurk in all corners of the castle, on the columns and trestles, the lintels and arches, the pedestals and crowns, the molding and doors, the tables and chairs, the…Well all around, are many and splendid, sometimes terrible yes? Alive they can become, even the dragons, the kelpie and the re’em, if this one calls them into this life, whereby they shall attack enemy invaders! Sarku’s greatest enemy was in this way defeated, for his magic was too strong, his heart too black, and his mind too terrible to defeat by other means, but beasts of stone claw, horn, wing, tail, and tooth, of strength of stone and endless stamina, he could not defeat. Long years after this terror took this one’s wife and sons was the Lich slain in this way…Partly slain, for the source of his power this one could not find. The father of the Horned Demons is he, sire of the terrible King Saeed. He never since returned. This one hopes…” He realized he was speaking of things they might have no interest in again, and shushed then pointed towards a spiral stairway which looked as if it was designed after the heart of conch shell. “These stairs lead to the central towers, maze and turret.”

He smiled as he remembered how pleased Lucifer had been when the fortress was completed. Sarku had built the city as well. When he said he built the castle, and when it was discovered that he also built the city and caverns beneath, people assumed he was the architect and supervisor of the projects. Sarku had done it all himself, using his elemental feats of power. It had taken him some years to complete it all, but the end result had been magnificent, a fortress above a beautiful underworld city. Gothardda, the dark world had been a spectacular achievement, as had its guardian fortress, Gothtyrdan. No one beyond Sarku and Lucifer remembered those names. They and Amon alone had survived the arcane disease spread by the Lich who had invaded the Dark World. Sarku would not speak the Horned Demon’s name, Solbaid, for fear he would bring that terrible enemy back to Gothardda.

“The gardens south and west and those in the atriums were much neglected by this one…Beautiful were they once…The roses and grape vines and fruit trees are still prolific yet still. So juicy, so sweet is their fruit, even the rose hips swell to plump ripeness.” He walked over to a plum tree in the central atrium they had reached and plucked three five dark-blue plums from the tree. He handed one to Sage, one to Nik, one to Keir, one to Rain, and ate the last one himself. He was still famished, and would be until he restored his health. The atrium was beautiful, even though many of the beds were just sand and loam now, prime to be replanted. The plums he had chosen were perfectly ripe, the twisted, low sweeping branches of the trees heavy with fruit, like all the fruit trees Sarku had tended while all the rest fell to neglect. In other gardens there were tropical fruit trees native to Morashtar which produced a variety of wonderfully delicious fruits.

“No maps are there to this small world. One must learn its secrets. Sarku can only teach other here dwellers so much.” He had settled on a bench without really realizing it, with his back against a grape arbor pole. The black grapes were not ripe yet. They were seedless and promised to be very plump with fruitful large bunches. “The…the turrets…Sarku loves them the best…Much open space, the toothed walls sound enough to leap from one stone cusp to the other. Ponds there are…Oh, this one has forgotten the wells. In the central courtyard is a well, in the south and west garden are wells, in the kitchen and in the dungeon. From springs below rises the water…springs which feed…” He was about to say an underground river, sweet and pure, but eschewed the subject altogether. He was having difficulty concentrating, speaking; his fatigue had grown so severe. He would not refrain from his task however, until he passed out or was commanded to cease. “There is rugged pasture enough above the beach and below the cliffs, which meet the bastion walls, to sustain six prime horses, eight lean ones, two pastures cycled each month. Mix the manure with the sandy soil and much abundance is produced. “The turrets…One can spread their wings there, feel the wind in them, take flight over sea or land, scout for miles, see far into great distances.” A breeze against his dense mane had veered him back towards the turrets. He took the last bite of his plum and tossed the seed onto one of the empty beds. If it sprouted later he would transfer it.

Sarku felt someone tugging at him, was it the twins, Nik, or Sage? He didn’t know, he just unfolded himself to stand again. “The second floor, chambers all and a Roman bath, what this one made the Morning Star calls a Roman bath. Never has this one been to earth. Master chambers, two on each floor, have their own baths…Hot water comes from far places down. Hot places. Third floor is like the second floor…the stairs which join them on either end, corridors slicing between, inner chambers with no windows, outer chambers with.” He was being led, his beautifully soft spoken voice, however strange the words it formed at times, still illustrating the fortress lay as he was led. He continued this, drifting off on tangents about animals sometimes seen around, broken details about the place, some little bits and pieces about himself, like how he’d had trouble designing the plumbing around the maze, how he had made the labyrinth so winged things could fly through it if they wanted once they reached the fourth floor, a flying maze, he called it. Sarku obviously loved to fly and clearly did not get to often enough, by the nostalgic tone of his voice and distance in his eyes when he spoke of flying. When he felt himself sinking into a steaming bath of hot water, he passed out almost the moment the steam enveloped him. His head settled against the floor with his shoulders nestled against the rounded edges which plunged into the bath’s three foot deep pool. His back arched slightly away from the wall of the chamber sized bath. It was deeper at the opposite end. It was rather like a shallow swimming pool of stone, which held the heat well, filled with water hot enough to fill the chamber with steam. Caine would love it. Sarku would sleep for three days before waking again, but his health would be fully restored when he did wake. He would find himself in his bed, nude and clean when he did wake. Who had been so kind to old Sarku? A pair of phantoms perhaps?

True Enochian Form

Gothardda

Gothardda is a subterranean city which can only be accessed by three routs; through Gothtyrdan's North Corridor, or from the 'Cavern of Many things Dark', its trapdoor-like entrance in the ground hard to find unless you know where it is. High grass and heath conceals the cavern entrance well. The last is by little known passages in the dungeon, the last of which is crumbling and half collapsed where the Gothardda tunnel connects. This underworld below the castle is one which few but Sarku and his master knew about until recently. A few children have since discovered it playing and one child, a half-netherelf named Val, reported its existence to the regent, Octavian. The fotress's underbelly did not end at the dungeon, but continued into a half ruined, cavern city a mile deep underground and with tunnels which accessed village lairs. The city merged with a cavern called 'Cavern of Many things Dark' which ran hundreds of miles long beneath the earth with very few entrances to the world above, all of them well hidden. There were many cave dwellings in this cavern, and as the cavern name suggested, manyd dark things dwelled in those ancient halls of stone. Many had once inhabited this cavern’s city, villages and shelters which Sarku had been the King of, but a powerful Lich single handedly had driven the inhabitants out of the city and caverns by infecting them with a terrible arcane plague which spread through them rapidly. No one but Sarku had known from whence the disease had sprung, only that it was rampaging over every last soul who occupied the caverns. Many had died, others had been disfigured and weakened. Sarku alone had been unaffected, immune to it. Necromancy and disease did nothing to the Dark Fallen, and Sarku was that, his true name Siaph, one of the angels of rebellion who had been cast down with Lucifer. This underground had simply been called Gothardda, Dark World. It was still there, and Solbaid has long since been driven out, but the only thing inhabiting it were beasts and monsters of the deep, and a few tribes of the only people desperate or brave enough to reside there; goblins and dragon kin. Cave Dragons had taken over the Palace of Stone in the Dark City and little else but the giant rats, cave rats, snakes, and bats that the smallish, black, cave dragons fed on lived in the city or castle. Ancient wards still protected the stalactite; stalagmite; and stone palace but were weak or non-existent where gaps had broken the wards from neglect. Wards required maintenance to keep them stable and reliable. The cave dragons and animals had learned where these gaps were.