Dwelling in their subterranean abodes chiseled deep with the earth’s heart, the Sarahi dominate the gruesome, gore driven religious fetishes of their devotees and supplicants. Embodying both the mind-numbing sadism and the savage resplendence inherent in the religion of the vanquished empire of the Arahuai that flourished on the continent of Tahutol in ancient times, the worship of these sinister abominations shaped one of the most vibrant cultures to ever exist in this world, and still continues to do so, albeit on a much reduced scale.
The old myths tell of Ixtili, the once principle deity of Tahutol, and the divine ancestor of the Arahuai. In the course of their great exodus from distant Uhari, the arid plains of their forefathers to the steamy jungles of Yuroth in which the heart of their powerful empire would later emerge, the Arahuai people had to face a great many perils posed by the dangerous cannibalistic natives and ferocious beasts that inhabited the new regions they found themselves traversing through. Harried and viciously assaulted at every turn by the constant danger of the tropics, the Arahuai might very well have succumbed to the myriad dangers of the jungle, had it not been for their leader, a great shaman and medicine man by the name of Mocthu. With his great powers, he drove away the ravening hordes of savage cannibals and predatory animals that besieged their encampments. And with those same gifts, he healed those that contracted the fatal flux that preys on all those who have the misfortune to sojourn through this pathogen infested part of the world.
At last after five years of wondering, Mochtu and his people pressed onwards to the Golden Hill of Hila, a vast shimmering mound that shined like the precious metal it is named for when the rays of the sun suffuse it. Ceasing their march here to rest, Mocthu and his people were astonished when a large centipede, larger than any they had ever seen before, suddenly slithered into their midst, locked in combat with a cobra. Before their fascinated eyes, the centipede slew the cobra and devoured it.
Enthralled by this omen, Mocthu declared this the nascent capital of their new kingdom, his voice ringing throughout the surrounding jungles for miles.
But there was one more obstacles to endure before the Arahuai could stake their claim.
That very night, as the Arahuai slumbered, the ravening forest demon, Gagool, he of the hundred mounts and rending claws, came upon them and begin to slay them, furious that the serenity of his dominion had been invaded by hordes of mortals. Stricken by terror, the survivors roused Mocthu, begging him to save them form the slavering jaws of Gagool. And so he did.
Transforming himself into a vast centipede, he fell upon Gagool and fought with great ferocity. After hours of murderous combat had passed, Gagool at last succumbed to the fatal sting of the giant centipede. But as his final act of vengeance, he seized hold of the centipede’s head and ripped it off, slaying Mocthu instantly, even as he succumbed to the deadly venom coursing through his body.
But the earth had grown upset with their duel that had inflicted so much ruin on the surrounding terrain and environment. Enraged, she swallowed the fallen corpses of both foes, banishing them deep within her bowels.
Grieving for their slain leader, the Arahuai pleaded tearfully with the earth to return his body so that the proper ceremonial rite of cremation could be bestowed on it. But she refused, determined to punish Mocthu for his disregard where her sanctity had been concerned. However, she was not totally devoid of pity for the Arahuai. And thus did she did take it upon herself to ensure that some of Mocthu would remain in order to guide his people.
Satisfied to some degree, the Arahui mourned the demise of their larger-than-life leader and renamed him Ixtili or ‘‘the Stinging One’’ in honor of the form he had assumed in order to save them.
And as they elevated the slain Ixtili to the position of a god, deep beneath them, nestled in the very bossom of the earth, the Sarahi sprang into existence from the shattered remains of Ixtili, calling forth to the people to venerate them as the children of Ixtili.
Around them, Arahuai civilization would revolve for centuries until the Conquest of Texaco.
Which would perhaps explain the deeply perverse and twisted nature of the culture that these people established. For the Sharahi are no majestic Spinhxes or noble Unicorns to evoke awe in our hearts. Nay, on the contrary they are loathsome things of such hideousness that no man of sane mind can behold them without being subjected to horror and disgust of the most extreme nature.
The Sharahi are small, wriggling creatures that resemble a nightmarish tape-worm with certain..humanoid features. Measuring no more than five inches, it possesses a thick, fleshy body covered with tough plates made of some firm shell-like material. Extremely durable, they can ward off a sword strike with little or no damage to the Sahari. Despite this, it is also very flexible, able to compress itself into a compact ball, an ability that comes in very useful for some of its more bizarre activities. Appearing in odd contrast to this armored, prehistoric shell, are a row of delicate, stick-like appendages that project from its sides. Grotesquely long, each of them is easily twice the length of the rest of its body, giving the Sarahi unparalleled climbing ability.
But its most distinctive feature is its head. Protruding out from under its carapace like a turtle’s, the head is not like that of a large insect as most people would expect. What you have instead, is a ghastly, wizened little thing that resembles the tiny shrunken heads carried by certain tribes that still persist in savagery. Though displaying the essential human features, it is more like a demented mockery of a human face. A tiny fraction the size of an actual human head, its nose if it can be called that, are no more than two vertical gashes across skin pale and slimy as that of an albino cave slug. The mouth has no lips, simply being another gash from which an over-large, powerfully muscled tongue lolls out. Slithering out from beneath this, is a much smaller and thinner serpent like forked-tongue that is lined with razor-sharp little scrapers. But most disturbing of all, are the eyes which have no pupils at all. Slit-like and pitch black, they bring to one’s mind the dark reaches of the earth’s nether-regions in which unspeakable horrors reign.
And indeed, that is where they reign. The skin on their faces will scald and even burn if exposed to the merciless light of the sun, so they dwell deep below the earth’s surface in little abodes carved deep into the walls and natural rock formations of the deep subterranean lime-stone caves and caverns that abound beneath the foot of the Golden Mound on which the Arahuai erected their principle citadel.
Devoted and zealous engineers, the Arahuai used the ample captives plundered from weaker tribes to dig broad passage-ways that deep into the interior where the Sahari dwell. Once this was accomplished, their most skilled craftsmen descended into these winding tunnels to begin their work. With no protection at all from the numerous hazards that lurk underneath, and only the paltry flames of their tallow lamps with which to illuminate the darkness pressing all around, they inscribed into the living rock, little cone-shaped structures for the Sahari to dwell in. Miniature versions of the grand Arahuai ziggurats used to house the great idols, they display the same exquisite skill of their far larger progenitors. Arrayed everywhere on the each of the painstakingly chiseled fifty-five levels of the ziggurat, are breath-takingly intricate representations of myriad centipedes liberally studded with emeralds and rubies, products for which the Arahuai realm were famous for. On all four sides of the ziggurat, there is an open space through which a Sahari could squirm through and enter. There it would enter and reside, waiting for a line of devoted priest-nobles hailing from the ruling class, to approach its dwelling and offer it prayers of adoration, offerings such as wine sweetened with cane-sugar of which it is very fond of lapping up from a jade bowl, and even the occasional human sacrifice.
The Arahuai believed that the Sahari controlled the earth. Any natural upheaval that occurred in this quake and mud-slide prone region, was attributed to the displeasure of the Sahari, whom were the creations of the earth, and thus able to manipulate some of the powers that they had inherited from her. If their demands were left unappeased, the Arahaui people would be compelled to pay a heavy price for it.
Desperate to avoid the calamities that the Sahari were capable of inflicting on them, the Arahuai would often embark on bloody campaigns of conquest with the blessings of their priests, all of them organized with the intention of seizing live sacrifices with which to sate the hunger of the Sahari.
The only ones permitted to enter their domain, the priest- rulers would make their long sojourn into the black heart of the Sahari realm, with a long line of wretched captives in tow. Upon reaching the enclosures of the Sahari, they’d kneel before each and every sacred abode, begging for the generosity and mercy of the Sahari, all the while promising to feed its appetite. Upon hearing the pleading of those come to do tribute, the Sahari would scuttle out of its lair, and then with great alacrity, would scurry up the body of the terrified captive, ignoring the revolted trembling of his body. When upon finally mounting the summit of his head, it would immediately proceed to commit a most horrific act: Manipulating its smaller forked tongue, it would thrust this most prehensile organ through the captive’s nostrils. Losing no time, the tongue would subsequently rapidly expand to twice its normal length and would begin to violently probe the crevices of the poor wretches’s inner cavities lying within his skull, not ceasing its painful efforts until the razor lined tip finally made contact with soft brain manner. Then, with infinite patience, it would begin to scrape up this most favorite food of it’s with great gusto, stopping only when a sizable portion of the brain had found its way into the digestive orifices lining the surface of the marauding tongue.
When the agonized screams of the captive finally ceased, it would then wrap its tongue around his still vocal chords, and manipulating them, begin to speak to its supplicants in a shrieking wail so unlike the human voice that the vocal chords had once made, making new demands that it expected them to fulfill.
And the Sahari had other demands. All of them exclusively male, they could only procreate with the aid of virgin maidens, a commodity that the Arahuai were most willing to provide. Selecting only their own daughters for this most prestigious honor, the priest rulers were bring them before the expectant Sahari in his lightless domain. Then, as they witnessed this morbid spectacle with hushed but enthralled joy, the Sahari would impregnate the nervous girl with its second tongue, this muscled organ depositing its thick,sludgy seed in her womb.
Five months later, the maiden would pass out a fully mature Sahari from her rectum, much to the beaming delight of her relations who would then quickly proceed to bring down this new addition to the dark depths where the rest of his kindred lay waiting for him to join their numbers.
For five centuries the Sahari exerted an unshakable hold on the imagination of the Arahuai. But in the end, their seemingly eternal reign of terror came to an end, when hordes of gold crazed settlers and colonialists from the Old Continent of Castil descended on Tahutol in their great ships, reducing the once great Arahuai empire to dust with their deadly steel weapons and terrifying four-legged mounts. Bringing their fanatical monoestic worship of the One True God with them, they soon begun a campaign to destroy the Sahari, almost succeeding in their quest to eradicate these foul abominations. But a few were able to survive this purge..
Remaining concealed for two centuries, they have called to them those of the once great Arahuai people who secretly persist in paying homage to the faith of their fathers, bidding them for an army that will one day revive the old empire..
Additional Information The Sahari have the ability to send vivid visions to their followers, in their dreams, allowing them to mantain a hold long after their power was broken. They also have the ability to divine one’s thoughts when brought within hearing distance of that individual.
Whenever the earth trembles and shakes, it is the children of the Stinging One furious that the nourishment due to them, has been denied. Honor them unceasingly by sating their hunger, or the earth itself will swallow man-kind whole to feed them’‘.
-Taken from the Arahuain Codex, the most sacred text known to the priests of Ixtili, the Stinging One.