Kerassi

Lightning, Water, Lightning
Plants, Predators
Hedonist
Plains
Autumn
Food
Bone
Masculinity
Purity
Sloth
Votive Offerings
Black
Transmutation
Abiogenesis
Arcana
Physique

You notice a sudden sharp change in the pressure as you lead your caravan through the empty wastes. You turn your head to the west and see a black mist slowly rolling across the empty plains. It's coming. Won't hit the caravan for a few hours, but it's coming.

You send the call to circle the wagons, deciding that hunkering down has a better shot of working than racing ahead of it. As you check the wagons for integrity, you see cloaked, misshapen figures to the west, dragging a small cart behind them. They're not from the caravan, you know that much, but who could survive out here? They begin unloading the cart, and to your surprise, it's food. Fresh lettuce, ripe fruits, bushels of mushrooms. They arrange them into a crude tableaux before dashing off, leaving the cart and the food behind. You consider telling the porters to go gather it, but before you can give the order, a crack of thunder rings from the fog as a tendril of lightning shoots out from the mists. For a moment, it forms into something like a hand of black bone before 'grabbing' the goods and pulling back into the rest of the mist. The food was gone. So was the cart. So was the grass under the cart. You quickly slide into your own wagon and barricade the entrance.

When you wake up the next day, to your relief, the caravan's still intact...more or less. Every surface in the camp was covered with plants or fungi. You had to cut through a swath of tomato vines to even get out of your wagon. Naturally, you're pretty unnerved, but your alchemist (casually sitting on a giant toadstool) assures you that the plants seem to be safe to eat. Since destroying all the plants would take up the entire day and your food stores were running low, you let the plants be and move on. As the day goes on, the porters pick apples and strawberries off of the wagons, and the chefs make an absolute smorgasbord when you make camp the following night.

You're woken up in the middle of the night by the feel of something breathing on you, hot and panting. It smells of tomatoes. You reach for your hammer and bash at the creature, driving it back long enough for you to light a lantern. At first you think it's some construct in the shape of a wolf, but as your eyes focus, you realize it's vines bound in the shape of a wolf, with cherry tomatoes for eyes and larger tomatoes hanging from its belly. You toss the lantern at the beast, setting the wagon alight, and leap through the cloth siding of your covered wagon. The camp is in chaos. Prowling beasts with spiky thorns ambush your porters at every turn. Your guards are harassed by a horde of foxes with sharpened carrots for teeth. You have to duck as your alchemist is thrown into the burning wreckage of your wagon by a mushroom bear.  You fight bravely. Then, you fight desperately. It makes no difference, and you're forced to abandon the camp and run into the wilderness.

You soon collapse, exhausted from the fight and your flight. The sun begins to emerge from the horizon, though it is stifled by the false-night. You are doomed. With no caravan and the portal days away, there's no way you'll survive. As you consider using your emergency pistol to end your problems the quick way, you realize that a tall figure stands before you with its arms crossed in front of its chest, a perfect specimen of masculine physicality in the form of black mists. Occasionally, lightning strikes inside of him, revealing a pitch black inner skelature.

"I am Kerassi," he said in a low, rumbling voice. "Roiling Steward of the Autumn Harvest. So..." It paused for a bit, carefully considering its next words. "Quite a sick party, wasn't it?" You look on in disbelief, wanting to scream at him for the death of your entire caravan, but you know he could end you in a second.

"Why?" you finally squeak out. "Why did you create those...those *things*?"

"i just think they're neat" he replied, with a shrug. "So...you want to get in on this? We've been needing a new guy to help with the harvest. There's an eggplant patch with your name on it." He waits obliviously, seemingly unaware that the only other choice available to you is dying alone in this wasteland. You think back to those misshapen figures you saw a few days ago, and shudder as you realize you're about to become one of them. Still, any life was a life. You nod your head.

"Choice decision, my friend. Very choice." And with that, he leads you away from the last remnants of your former life.