Repost The ang'jei revenant

#1
This story was originally posted by an anonymous author over at 4chan's /tg/ board on 16-09-2011.

The thread was originally posted on the HFY subreddit.

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I only ever knew my father's best friend. A quiet man, sturdiest person to ever walk the earth - if you asked something of him, he'd do it, no questions asked. At least for me. Closest thing I ever had to a father. It never really occurred to me that it was strange that a man that was not my father would do these things. Not until the night he died. 'Mackie', as I called him, had some kind of cancer. The local healers had done everything they could for him, bless'em, but it was eating into every bone in his body before he'd even sought help. Little they could do.

Anyway, back to my uncle's death bed. He says to me, you know actually starts talking to me with more than five or ten words at a time, he says, "Erik," he says, "Erik, let me tell you about your father. It'll be the last thing I ever do tell you, son."

Mack NEVER talked about my dad. Always strange, but Mackie never said much of anything, quiet guy, like I said. Anyway, he begins, "Erik...your father is in hell." Naturally my first reaction is complete befuddlement and bewilderment and confusion and...what? I was very confused and a little upset, let me express it. "He's in hell for saving my life." Again, confusion, so I say to Uncle Mackie, hey what the fuck man. That's not cool. How did he die saving you? "Listen, son. He didn't die. He went to hell for me." I sit there stunned for a minute, not understanding how this makes sense. Then it dawns on me, the man's being eaten alive by fucking cancer and I pat his hand and shush him, try to make him comfortable before the end. "No, you fool! I am not delirious. I have internalised this damnation of my soul for decades, now let me confess!" So, seeing as Mackie had never said so many words combined into a single sentence before in my presence or with quite such passion, I sat back down.

So he tells me. Back in the good old days, in the '10s or teens or whatever of the Hierophantic Age, he and my dad were do-gooders - or opportunists, or grave robbers, or hired thugs, depending on what they felt like, really. Anyway, they're in this big ass city some ways up north called Stracket or whatever, named for some king or prince or queen, I think he did get a little delirious here. Most of it was lucid though. Anyway!

He says, "Erik, your father, two of our friends and me had caught word of this shit that had been haunting this small ass chapel on the bad side of town, so none of the authorities actually gave a fuck about taking it down. I don't know what got into your father, but it became absolutely necessary that we stop this." At this point, Mackie seems to smile a little bit, I think I see a tear, or maybe that's just my knowledge of how the story ends influencing my memory, whatever, I ain't a psychomage.

Anyhow, he says, they got to the chapel without a hitch, just a single guard stopped them because of Mackie being a "fucking Mud race". My dad apparently almost lost his shit over that, but one of their other friends had managed to calm him down before it esca...got worse. "Yeah, that guardsmen was a prick, I was with three Esailan folks and everything." Oh, my uncle Mackie was a Mudrolon, by the way, kinda sucked for him living here. Anyway, they find the chapel, and they find it totally abandoned, kinda run-down even. Usually the poorer sides of cities are really into the whole "religion thing" as Mackie would put it, so the oh-so-decrepit state of their church was a little worrisome.

So, naturally, my dad wants to go inside a place he's heard is haunted. My uncle gets a little more lucid at this point. I remember the way his eyes were, it'll stay with me to the day I die, he said, "Son, we saw hell in there." I believe him. Mackie ain't never lied to me. He tells me, "Erik...we went in there, and we couldn't find a soul. No one's in this big, old fashioned church. I still remember being more concerned with what I was going to eat that day. I don't think I ended up eating." He then goes on to elaborate all the little details that began to creep them out more and more steadily: the holy symbols were all shattered, a hole in the floor, small fires burning in the odd place here and there. Finally they all decided to check downstairs, see how they can fix any possible hauntings as well as find out if there is one.
So, my dad's friends, being the geniuses they apparently were, break down every door they come to. Until one, where they find a strange sign on the door. Mackie can't properly describe it to me, but I imagine it's recognisable. Anyway, with a brief argument between Mackie and my dad's friends, who Mackie still won't name, Mackie breaks open the door with this holy whatsits he got from some holy someone or other for doing some great and wonderful something. And inside is a statue, surrounded by burnt husks that look like a priest, a few church-goers and a guardsmen. They could only tell what they -may- have been because their clothing seemed completely untouched. Apparently this is when shit goes really, really bad.

The statue is an Ang'jei Revenant. Have you ever heard of these fuckers? Well, neither had my uncle or my dad's friends. My dad's friends got killed by it the second they got too close, and it was apparently just "stretching". My uncle charges the thing, pissed as all hell, and just start wailing on it with his hammer o'wackin'.

The thing doesn't even seem to notice, it just...opens, or something, according to my Uncle's eloquent description. And he says this is when he saw hell. The Ang'jei Revenant's chest opens and the flesh begins to...ash, and flake into the chest. I don't get it either, man. But, about Ang'jei Revenants...apparently you can't kill them. Can't 'banish' them either, or whatever. Can only lock'em in a hole and hope no one opens the door. My uncle supposes this is what the people in this room were doing, or trying to do anyway, luring the thing in with the promise of their flesh in order to hopefully lock it away for good. Who the fuck thought of these guys? An asshole, that's who. Anyways.

My uncle gets stunned or something by his vision of hell, and my father throws him out of the room. My uncle says he can't remember much, that he went a little cuckoo for awhile. What he does remember, though. He remembers my father losing an arm to the hell-chest's ash, he remembers seeing my father stab into its infernal heart with his blessed spear, and he remembers that the two of them are now stuck like that, both still as statues when he wakes up. My father's spear in its chest, the thing became still. It stopped moving, and my uncle thought it dead. And then my uncle tells me something that makes me think less of him, despite the fact I can't blame him for it. He closed the door and locked it.

Then he ran, "for a fortnight maybe." He can obviously tell at this point that I feel ashamed of him, and for the obvious fact that it's the first time I've ever felt something negative towards him. He tells me, "I found out later that you can't kill Ang'jei Revenants...I also found out that...," he stops here for a second, choked up. "The only way to make them go back to sleep is to sate their hunger. And your father knew. And he didn't stop for a second. He just did it. I will never be as good a man as your father. Few ever will. But I can try."

And then he presses something into my hand and says, "Erik... I never could find the courage to go back." I look down, and in my hand is a Tremaren Shard. The holy whatsits he had been talking about this ENTIRE time was one of the most prized artifacts in the world. I look back to my uncle, and I can tell he's gone.

Don't look at me like that, this was his deathbed. So, Mr. Adventurer, what I have in mind to hire you for and for me, is me and you are going to go save my father's soul from hell, because no good deed should be punished, because you and me, Mr. Adventurer, you and me are humans, and ain't no fucking demons gonna tell me my dad don't deserve a happy afterlife.
 
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