TTRPG creations: 71/365: Tik, Last of the first.

Tik, Last of the first.

 He stepped into the darkness as a man and returned a wizard. He pushed into the empty alabaster sands of the A'tuk wastes. Sifting through lost catacombs with an unquenchable thirst, he uncovered the staff of the eternal king. He pushed back the scarab lords and made his escape, unlocking the walled off magic within his mind.

Venturing into the havoc hell he fought B'tum chosen of Bolg last of the madness gods. Locked in a magical duel that lasted for both a blink of an eye and an eternity. With multi hued lightning lashing the ground creating cracked creators that bubbled blistering blue brew. He struck the deranged warlock down, strangling the life out of the once man. Taking the treasured third eye out of his skull he stepped out of the darkness as a wizard and returned an arch mage.

 He scoured the cloud kingdom seeking the last of the dragons. He tracked the beast down to the final resting place. With staff in hand and eye of power in place the battle wracked the heavens and shattered the grounds. Blasting bolt breaths and inhaled vacuums battered him. Talon, fang and claw tore at him. Yet he stood his ground, stood firm and smote the primal horror. Taking the heart he stepped out of the darkness as an arch mage and returned a legend.

As his deeds and feats grew so did the years. For all of his power he could not push back the slow but sure hand of time. A deep melancholy sunk in to the living legend, at the core of the melancholy a splinter of fear started to infect him. Fear became horror which mutated into panic and then obsession. A way to push back, extend or gain time. He cast morals aside and practiced darker arts, creating copies of himself to read through every library, every tome and scroll. In his darkest moment a voice called out.

He followed it to the waters edge, through the storm to the eye of the hurricane. Sacrificing loyal men and friends to power odd deep spells he pushed into the waters. Through hours of endless sinking, staving off creatures that were alien even to one such as he. Tik finally arrived at the lost city, the voice emitting from a small jade statue, it promised him all that he desired.

As his fingers clasped it he saw a flash behind his eyes. Of endless bent blackened arms with pitch black ichor eyes spanning seas worth. Of gibbering mouths telling ten thousand twisted truths. Of every being that has been, will be or was in oil slick bubbles. Of a being so vast, so high and so encompassing that it simply was. Taking the statue he stepped into the darkness as an Legend and returned a god.