Almost two centuries have passed since the mysterious tragedy of the Poseidon's Fury left its entire crew slaughtered without a trace of the assailant. Only a single shred of evidence remains - a cursed scroll clutched in the captain's severed hand...
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"Ki-ur Kakkabu
Ki-ur Kakkabu, where the heavens fell, When a fiery stone from the night sky expelled. Cleft into the earth with terror unbound, It formed the abyss where only shadows sound.
Within the cave's depths, a horror took shape, Born of the rock that rent the soil's drape. With limbs elongated in form uncouth, It lurks in the dark, a nightmare's truth.
Its jerking movements flow with grace malign, Stretching and bending beyond design. Summoned by the words that sealed its genesis, From the meteor's impact still faintly genesis.
The gods watch in dread as its power awakes, Lunging from the darkness with speed that shakes No feet nor hands to grasp nor impede, Only its endless limbs as it hunts with speed.
Ki-ur Kakkabu is the pit it beholds, Where its daemonic presence forever folds. In the crater's depths demonic essence lingers, And with incantations its avatar fingers.
The lines that call it cannot be undone, Once spoken its coming cannot be outrun. Through twisted motions its prayers are imparted, In the cave where shadows lie ever harrowed.
Mortal souls beware invocation's source, Once loosed this evil sets its course. From the stars a terror to earth was sent, In Ki-ur Kakkabu its dark intents are rent.
Lest you face the chill of the daemon's stark dance, Speak not the words that reopen its trance. For in blackest depths where light cannot touch, Evil yet lies in waiting as such."
A quiet stillness covered the ruins as Mnesarete finished translating the scary poem, bringing the truth of their puzzle into clear focus.
With caution, Mnesarete lifted the final runes, expecting coded writing. However, instead of words, she found a strange pattern carved on the blue surface.
Confusion showed on her face as she looked at the remaining runes, discovering similar shapeless marks. Yet, she suddenly realized that they were not words but rather a diagram meant to be connected.
Carefully, Mnesarete started putting the final runes together like pieces of a mysterious puzzle. As she assembled them, a vaguely human shape appeared, horribly twisted in a way that defied nature. Its limbs stretched unnaturally from a bent body.
A collective gasp rose as the horrors described in their translations became real and threatening. With the last symbol in place, it seemed as if a nightmarish face lunged out from the dark surface towards them.
