The fourteenth year of Shafa-Udzo's reign saw a plague that struck from the eastern shores of the empire to the western plains. Livestock and crops died in great numbers, This, coupled with successive harsh winters, wiped out scores of families. Loyalty to the Shafa dwindled like the gold in his treasury, and unrest and revolt loomed in the horizon. It was with great relief that he welcomed news of an upcoming cleric who was reported to engage in pagan arts: Yazul.
The cleric's son never believed anyone who dismissed the scrolls his father brought home as nonsense. Despite much admonishing for him to immerse himself further in established holy texts, the puzzle of the scrolls filled his mind: the runes were too organised, too meticuous to be a mere drunkard's scribbles. One day, the answers came to him in a dream – 'a cleric with a veiled face carrying the staff of Temuzid' explained the mystery of the scrolls and how to read the runes. Yazul immediately preoccupied himself with gathering what materials he could decipher from the scrolls. Unknowingly, he had opened a new chapter in history – the dawn of an era of golem research.
To the superstitious masses, Yazul's efforts was heresy. When word reached Shafa-Udzo's ears that a cleric's son was playing with life, he quickly proclaimed him to be the cause of the plague. Why else would the gods be so angry? The Shafa stormed Yazul's house to discover that the scientist had fled from the city with a handful of companions. An army of soldiers was mustered, and in time the Shafa located Yazul's hiding place: an isolated temple at the base of Korun Valley.
The army moved in with the convinction that the gods were on their side. To their horror, Yazul had successfully crafted the first golem in history – a giant the size of the Temple of Tamazar, whose mighty roar sent tremors that could be felt even from the capital – Chymoz. A few soldiers died of shock, while the rest, paralyzed with fear, scampered back to the palace, yelling that Yazul had attained divinity.
The Shafa wasted no time in assembling a retinue and rode personally to Korun, arriving to the deafening roars of Chymoz. At once the Shafa is weak with fear; he begged Yazul for mercy, promising to pardon him of all allegations. However, before the scientist could respond, the giant smashed the Shafa's guards with its boulder-sized fist.
Soldiers were flattened like ants. Chaos ensued as the frightened survivors ran wildly in all directions. The Shafa managed to escape, but ironically, Yazul lost his life while trying to evacuate a soldier that was left behind. The surviving members of Yazul's companions gathered what research material they could save and fled as the Korun temple itself was reduced to rubble. And then, with one last mighty roar, Chymoz itself disappeared – leaving deep scars in the Korun landscape and in the pages of history.
The cleric's son never believed anyone who dismissed the scrolls his father brought home as nonsense. Despite much admonishing for him to immerse himself further in established holy texts, the puzzle of the scrolls filled his mind: the runes were too organised, too meticuous to be a mere drunkard's scribbles. One day, the answers came to him in a dream – 'a cleric with a veiled face carrying the staff of Temuzid' explained the mystery of the scrolls and how to read the runes. Yazul immediately preoccupied himself with gathering what materials he could decipher from the scrolls. Unknowingly, he had opened a new chapter in history – the dawn of an era of golem research.
To the superstitious masses, Yazul's efforts was heresy. When word reached Shafa-Udzo's ears that a cleric's son was playing with life, he quickly proclaimed him to be the cause of the plague. Why else would the gods be so angry? The Shafa stormed Yazul's house to discover that the scientist had fled from the city with a handful of companions. An army of soldiers was mustered, and in time the Shafa located Yazul's hiding place: an isolated temple at the base of Korun Valley.
The army moved in with the convinction that the gods were on their side. To their horror, Yazul had successfully crafted the first golem in history – a giant the size of the Temple of Tamazar, whose mighty roar sent tremors that could be felt even from the capital – Chymoz. A few soldiers died of shock, while the rest, paralyzed with fear, scampered back to the palace, yelling that Yazul had attained divinity.
The Shafa wasted no time in assembling a retinue and rode personally to Korun, arriving to the deafening roars of Chymoz. At once the Shafa is weak with fear; he begged Yazul for mercy, promising to pardon him of all allegations. However, before the scientist could respond, the giant smashed the Shafa's guards with its boulder-sized fist.
Soldiers were flattened like ants. Chaos ensued as the frightened survivors ran wildly in all directions. The Shafa managed to escape, but ironically, Yazul lost his life while trying to evacuate a soldier that was left behind. The surviving members of Yazul's companions gathered what research material they could save and fled as the Korun temple itself was reduced to rubble. And then, with one last mighty roar, Chymoz itself disappeared – leaving deep scars in the Korun landscape and in the pages of history.