The Dangers of Kearackinin
Location: Abyss / Layer 7—Kearackinin
I am new to this cursed swamp, a soul freshly drawn into the realm, and already I know fear like I could never have known in life. The shamans speak of the dangers that lurk in the deep swamp with reverence and dread, and I have listened well—for to ignore their warnings is to invite death or worse. Kearackinin is alive with malice, and its depths hide horrors that even Sess’innek himself cannot fully control—although do not say that out loud, for your will surely invoke his wrath.
These are the things they told me to fear…
Qlippoth
First, there are the qlippoth—primordial terrors of the Abyss—beings older than demons themselves. The shamans say that they dwell in the darkest parts of the swamp, where the waters are blacker than the night and the mists are pure poison. They are not creatures as we understand them but writhing masses of limbs, eyes, and mouths—hideous forms that defy reason. To see them is to have their images burnt into your mind like a scar. They hate Sess’innek and all his works, for they see him as a usurper who stole their dominion over this layer of the Abyss. Mind, they hate all things, including each other and themselves, so perhaps that’s not surprising. The qlippoth strike from the shadows, dragging unwary petitioners into their depths to be devoured or twisted into monstrous forms. I have heard whispers that some entire khaasta tribes have been corrupted by these horrors, their scales turned pale and their minds hollowed out to serve as vessels for the qlippoth’s primal hatred.
The Echoes of the Betrayers
Then there are the Echoes of Betrayers, spirits of those who defied Sess’innek in life—or in death—and paid the price. These wraiths haunt the mists, wreaking vengeance wherever they can. They remember their betrayal, and they despise those who still serve Sess’innek. The echoes of their whispers combined create a maddening chorus of malice that can drive a sod barmy. The shamans say they can smell any glimmer of doubt in a petitioner’s heart, and once they find it, they will whisper your own fears back to you until you falter. To fall to them is to become one of them—a cursed husk bound forever to haunt the cursed waters.
The Living Swamp
The swamp of Kearackinin itself is a predator, a hungering entity shaped by centuries of despair and paranoia. They say its murky waters can rise up into tentacles with little warning, dragging sods into under where their screams are drowned by the mire. The whispering mangroves lie to lure you deeper into danger. Their carnivorous roots will seek your flesh and drain your blood. Even solid ground cannot be trusted; it shifts beneath your feet, leading you in circles until exhaustion or quicksands claims you. They say the swamp hungers for souls—berks who stray from their tribes become food for its endless malice.
Wailing Hydras
The wailing hydras are many-headed scaly beasts that stalk the steaming marsh with a cunning beyond that of mere animals. Chant goes they’re would-be lizard kings who failed their tests and were cast out into the darkness by Sess’innek in disgrace. Their hides shimmer with muck, and their fangs are wicked sharp. Worse still, when one head is severed, two more grow in its place unless cauterised with fire. But the thing to really fear is their wailing—each head issues a mournful cry at a different pitch. Alone, they are unsettling, but together, the shrieks of these monsters can turn a berk’s flesh to slimy mud.
Bog Shadows
Finally, there are the bog shadows, incorporeal creatures that can slip through cracks in reality itself to enter Kearackinin from other layers of the Abyss—or perhaps from realms even darker still. These shadowy fiends trade news of the outside multiverse in exchange for souls plucked from Kearackinin’s depths. They are not bound by Sess’innek’s will; they answer only to themselves, and their motives are as murky as the swamp’s waters.
These are just some of the dangers I have been warned about since my arrival here. The shamans tell us that survival here is our final test—the way to prove our worthiness before Sess’innek—but I wonder if even they truly believe that anymore. Surely, the Glimmering Spire offers respite, praise be to Vassz’akath, but it feels more like a prison where we are all held captive as prey for threats far beyond our understanding.
Source: Jon Winter-Holt