Them From the Aether Coils

Them from the Aether Coils

The edgeless sky is an abyss through which many wonders and horrors pass therein. The cold of the air and the chill of the biting freeze all come from that dark and eldritch place neither where man dares walk nor no mortal being pursue to live. It is where the psyches of man's wonder play and where the black realities of a hellish place so unspeakable lie upon and where they say "Them" passed through.

The frigid fear of having look upon them alone is a scarring horror and to gaze for a second glimpse upon their abysmal faces was enough to place insanity as a far more allowable plea for hope and the light. They come from those black hells in the endless sky and it is there I hope they remain for the beings that now tread my world are the feeders of the soul and of blood.


It was then when the night ripped open and regurgitated their harrow of unclenched land unto our meek and humble world...We are not ready for them...we are aeons too young for their despicable race...

There across the Eurail mountain ranges did their insidious black shadow emerge from, there from that accursed one evening of sparks and flames did the new Hell on Murhoruque come to be...There was born "The Gates to the Aether Coil" atop ranges on the summit of the mountain called "Vagan", where the light never touches and where the chilling cold of darkness reigns forever.

It was by one account of a merchant tribesman who sold healthy mounts did all of Murhoruque come to know what lied in the barriers without light. He went to the tops one evening while trying to escape some bandits out for his possession; most likely his healthy yak. There, he said he saw mangled silhouettes tread across the outline of the summit and in their numbers, looked quite many...

He hid within a cave at the rock face of "Mt. Thorian" and awaited the passing of the ravenous thieves and the blizzard to follow yet after their return to those unknown camps among the great Eurail ranges. He stayed for three days without provisions but dared not allow himself to savor his yak as food for he knew it would serve him well on the trip down to the village of "Makzhathan". He waited and suffered fevers without aid, suffered the wind at his body and the dire wrenching of his stomach in agonizing requests for food.

On the fourth day, the great blizzard had ceased and he emerged from the cave a weakened and hungry man. As he scaled down the ranges as far as he could push himself, a faint glow of light shone from the summit of the neighboring mountain...He saw people gathered about a great bonfire and longed to be among them for he was hungry and cold. He moved the yak towards the direction of the summit and suffered hours of maneuvering his behemoth even against the thinnest of ledges and amongst steep climbs that would result in the most mangled of death upon one small trip of its gigantic legs.

By midnight, he had reached near the zenith of that wretched mountain where he waited to see people...but it was not so as to be perceived.

He witnessed shadows of people, outlines of humane beings but did not in fact lie within company of such warm-hearted people...In fact...They weren't even people. They were smooth skinned in the shape of men but the texture of their skin suggested rubbery feel, where men are usually distinguished was nothing but a blank skin and where men can see, hear and smell...They had none of such organs and instead had on their empty faces one triangular mouth formed where the bridge of the nose would’ve been till the region of where human lips would’ve lied. Rows and rows of sharp, serrated teeth and one languid, long tongue hung out as if to always lick at the air was what its abysmal visage comprised of and what most assuredly drove the tribesman into horror.

Upon "Their" chest were long and slivery tentacles that sprouted out of the upper corner of their humane-looking chests and likewise from their back even longer appendages of the same sort only thicker, longer and comprised of mouths at the end of the accursed pair of whips. One long black wire as thick as an arm lanced into the yak behind him and he saw they emitted a reddish glow as they fed upon it with their expressionless faces and licking tongues that curl and hang in the air.

The merchant ran and tumbled upon hills of snow but he looked back to see those vile beings rip his yak apart with their mouthed-tubes and saw from it rose one wisp of an iridescent light which was quickly shattered and fed into their one triangular mouths. He rushed down the ranges without care of dying on starvation; he rushed till he reached great "Makzhathan" and died telling his tale then whispering his last breath to a priest who had come to heal him saying only: "Them".

No more recollection could be so close to the merchant's account for many years to come until “Them” finally moved down from the mountain and amongst them even viler beasts and beings in an army bent on the destruction of man. We call them "Them" for they never speak with their physical mouths but communicate amongst themselves mentally. So, we call them "Them"...They from the Aether Coil where a black Hell lies in the darkness from whence they came.