Suggested background reading
Duelyst lore chapters 20-24 on Rasha.
Three Wishes
“At sunrise, three brave Scions from one of Vetruvia’s oldest clans, House Volari, agreed to a sacrificial mission to lure Rasha’s patrols to the edge of the Akram Desert before letting themselves be captured. The enemy patrol found the real crystals and saw the fake ones in the distance, gleaming in the morning sun. Even under Rasha’s horrific torture, the captured noble Scions swore those were the Star Crystal fields. Overwhelmed with his desire for the crystals, Rasha mockingly granted each Scion a dying wish before executing them” —Duelyst lore chapter 24
“So you’re saying these crystals here are fake, and the real Star Crystals are over there?” asked High Emperor Rasha skeptically of the prostrate Scion before him.
“I swear it,” the Scion said, his metallic voice filled with anguish.
“Well, why should I take your word on it? I can just test for myself, like this.” Rasha took a mana crystal out of his pocket and popped it in his mouth. He chomped down on it several times, causing blue light to burst out of his mouth and eyes. His Kurikan soldiers cringed at the awful crunching sounds. Rasha swallowed painfully and then spat out some blood. “See, that’s the real deal.” He smiled insanely, displaying a mouth of shattered teeth, then strode up to the Star Crystals and made as if to bite them.
“Wait!” the second of the Scions yelled. “These crystals are poisoned. Ziros knew you would try to test their veracity by taste.” Rasha stopped.
“Ah, Ziros. What a fool! He didn’t expect me to be able to wring the truth out of you three so easily, did he? But these bugs proved quite effective.” He laughed maniacally, gesturing to the scarabs crawling all over the Scions and slowing devouring their metal flesh.
“Please, just make it stop!” the third Scion implored.
“Oh, but we’re having so much fun, aren’t we?” Rasha’s eyes gleamed with madness. “Since you three have been so helpful, I’ll grant you each a dying wish before we move on to claim the real Star Crystals. Choose wisely!”
One of his soldiers groaned, sick of Rasha’s nonsense. Rasha’s nostrils flared with anger and he closed his fist so tightly that his fingernails cut into his palm. The soldier withered into nothingness while Rasha looked on, giggling uncontrollably.
“No dying wish for you!” he laughed. Then he turned back to the first Scion. “Now, where were we?” The Scion closed his eyes and thought for a second. Then he responded,
“I wish for the smallest possible unit of strength and vitality, as well as one of those Myth’mon trading cards they sell in Aestaria.”
“Brilliant choice!” Rasha replied. He made a farting noise with his armpit and suddenly the first Scion looked a tiny bit stronger and healthier and had a brand new trading card in his hand.
“Dang it!” the Scion cried. “A Swamp Entangler, seriously?” He tossed the card to the sand in disgust.
“You get what you get! Now die please; I’m sick of you.” Rasha’s headsman decapitated the Scion and then scavenged some parts from the body for his new gaming PC. Rasha turned to the second Scion.
“I wish General Ziros a small amount of health and also for two Myth’mon cards.”
“Pah, whatever, that amount of health won’t save Ziros from me. Anyway, looks like you guys have crippling gambling addictions,” Rasha chuckled, “just like me!” He snapped his toes and two trading cards materialized in the second Scion’s hand.
“Oh boy!” the Scion exclaimed with joy. He picked up the card that the first Scion had discarded and displayed his hand to the assembly, beaming with pride. “A full set of Swamp Entanglers! My life’s ambition is complete.” Suddenly, the cards set on fire and the ashes blew away in the desert wind. Rasha could tell even through the Scion’s mask that he was crushed, and that made the High Emperor smile.
“Kill this fool.” Rasha turned to the third Scion as his headsman finished off the second one. “Now you, what do you want? Three trading cards?”
“No…” the Scion ruminated. “I wish for weapons for three of Ziro’s men.”
“All right, boring, but—”
“No, actually, I changed my mind. How about give one of Ziro’s men a weapon, armor, and fire breath?”
“Okay. That’s a little more interest—”
“No, wait. I feel like I’m asking too much of you. Let’s give the boon to one of those dust devils over there instead.”
“What? Just make up your mind, already!”
“Okay, okay. Instead of fire breath I want that Dervish to be able to fly.”
“You’re so stupid,” Rasha laughed. “Is that your final wish?” The Scion banged his head on the sand, trying to think of something else to say so he could delay death a little longer.
“No… my final wish is… to grant General Ziros strength, speed, and protection, but only until the end of the day.” Rasha shook his head in mock disappointment and there were some chuckles from his army.
“It is done. You idiots wasted three golden opportunities. Fine by me!” He did a twirl, kicked the Scion’s head off, and then bowed repeatedly as his army clapped and chanted his name. After an hour of this, he put up his hands to quiet them.
“Onward! To the Star Crystals! CHARGE!” he ran off into the desert at full tilt, his soldiers struggling to keep up. The real Star Crystals gleamed in the dying light behind them.
The Eternal Party
“Ziros, still consumed with revenge, had his men build a monument where he fell — Rasha’s Tomb — and buried Rasha and his men inside it, cursing them to burn for eternity in the scorching desert heat.” —Duelyst lore chapter 24
Ygnatya, the historian, had made it her life’s goal to visit all of the famous landmarks across Mythron, including Rasha’s Tomb. It had taken her several days to follow the path through the desert that Rasha and his army had marched centuries ago on the foolhardy mission that led to their deaths. There was no water along the route, by Ziros Starstrider’s design, but she had brought plenty. Now she stood outside the grand structure and stared up at it in awe.
Why would Ziros waste resources on such an impressive monument for his enemy? she wondered. Ygnatya stepped up to the great doors and tried to push them open with all her might. They didn’t budge. She tried again, but to no avail. She stood there awkwardly.
“I guess I should’ve thought this through,” she commented bitterly. But then came an awful grating sound as the doors swung open by themselves, revealing nothing but darkness in the cavernous space beyond. A little unnerved but also relieved that she hadn’t walked out into the desert for nothing, Ygnatya entered Rasha’s Tomb. She had no idea what she would find inside. But she certainly wasn’t expecting a rave.
As soon as Ygnatya stepped through the doorway, the doors slammed shut behind her and the room lit up with dazzling light brighter than the desert sun. She shielded her eyes, but even once she could see, she could not comprehend the scene around her. The floor was covered with glowing panels that rapidly pulsed between eye-strainingly neon colors, and the multi-faceted walls and ceiling were mirrored to reflect this light, creating a dizzying display of flamboyant chaos. Awful music was blasting from several repurposed obelysks around the room. Hundreds of men were dancing to the beat — not just on the scintillating floor, but also on the walls and flying through the air. They were wearing what appeared to be historical Kurikan soldier uniforms, but the light shone through both their bodies and their armor.
“Welcome to the Eternal Party!” a voice boomed from behind Ygnatya. “Dance until you drop!” She whirled around and found herself face to face with an outlandish phantom. He was wearing purple armor, a pink cloak, and a spiky blue wig on his head. His translucent face was emaciated — almost skeletal — but familiar.
Could it be…
“Rasha?” Ygnatya asked in wonder. The ghost gave an exaggerated bow.
“It is I, Rasha, in the flesh. Well, not really flesh, but you know what I mean.”
“How are you… partying?” Ygnatya questioned. “I thought you and your army were cursed to burn for eternity here.” Rasha’s ghost smiled, revealing a terrifying mouth of shattered teeth.
“Oh, we’re burning, all right! Burning up the dance floor!” He laughed insanely. “It’s a shame that fool Ziros never entered this tomb. I would’ve loved to spend eternity with him. Anyway, it’s time you get out there and show us your moves! My men and I haven’t danced with a woman in over five years!” He winked at her. “Or was it five hundred years? Time flies when you’re having fun!” Ygnatya grimaced and backed away.
“You know what, I think I’d better be going, actually. It was great to see this place.” Rasha chortled evilly, and when he touched his elbows together all his men did their best evil laughs simultaneously. The cacophony drowned out the music.
“The best part about my tomb is that no one can ever leave!” Rasha’s face was lit up with maniacal glee. “But if you don’t dance, you’ll put a damper on the party. So DANCE OR DIE!” He flicked his nose and Ygnatya flew into the air, then fell to the checkered ground and landed doing a perfect split.
Even as a ghost, he retains his Bloodbound powers? she thought with fear. She stood up and tentatively began to dance.
. . .
Forty years later, Ygnatya died from a heart attack while having the time of her life. She had never stopped dancing since the day she entered Rasha’s Tomb. And she regretted nothing.
Want more Rasha’s Ghost?
The following story is a fan creation (by me, Anjo) from the former Duelyst Forums and does not represent anything about Dream Sloth Games. Forum-goers made decisions between each chapter that determined what the protagonist would do at the beginning of the next chapter.
Rasha’s Wheel of Misfortune: Duelyst Poll-Venture #2: The Golden Omelette (chapters 5-7)