Coming up the stairwell and filing out into rows behind the Tuatha, spectral Orcs were taking up military formations… and kneeling. Andrew, his flesh now barely able to contain the bloated power of his dreamself, was flickering in appearance between the two as he smiled.
“I bring an army, and the god of your enemy. Now I wish to speak to Lady Falloth regarding my… rew—”
He stopped, eyes fixing on something behind the guardsmen. After a moment, he shook his head, titling it to one side. “Mother?”
The guard captain looked over his shoulder to see what Andrew was looking at and saw nothing but the cellar hallway, plain, dusty and damaged from the Orc’s incursion and subsequent retreat. Andrew certainly appeared to see something else, as he began to shriek.
“No! No, I won’t go back! I could be a king! A god! No, mother! No!”
The man was shrinking, almost appearing to melt into the floor. His screams were likewise diminishing, as though someone was adjusting his internal volume. After a moment, the guard captain was staring at a spot of empty floor where Andrew had stood.
The idol remained, however; as did the legion of ghostly Orcs, still bowing their head in submission.
The guard captain took a tentative step forward, holding one hand up to signal to his men to stay put. When no violence erupted, he took another step and then another. Going to one knee, he hefted the statue by the apparent handle, a bony protrusion that looked almost like a hand. As he did, a hissing voice echoed in his mind, and the eyes of the dead Orcish legion fell squarely on him.
“We die to serve. Command us, master.”
The guard captain smiled. The Rose Quarter had been delivered its salvation.
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Entry Point 7 - by Brandon Ellis
A snow leopard sits atop a large boulder surveying a rushing river below. She takes a deep breath. The day has been long for her tribe. A skirmish with the Dims has prevented them from getting any training done, injuring and killing a few individuals. And keeping everyone alive isn’t the worst of her thoughts. Crepus Dim, a past friend and ally, has been wreaking havoc across her once peaceful land.
Knowing that such thoughts will twirl in her mind all night long, she pushes them aside and moves to leave the boulder. But, while standing up, she suddenly pauses. A soft whisper interrupts her concentration. She can’t quite discern what it says, nor can she sense its meaning, but she knows it comes from afar.
She hops to the ground below, feeling the soft meadow grasses under her paws. Up ahead is the large mouth of Marble Burrow, a place where tunnels go deep underground. It houses a giant crystal, in addition to a dorm full of students who come from all over the land to study and train the Sacred Art of Defense under her tutelage.
Padding over to the cavern, she stops abruptly. The whisper switches to images of snow falling on a mountain city with people in fur clothing busying themselves in its marketplace. Then a voice clearly states, “Nova, the fall of Ebulon is near. Please help. Humanity is near its end.”
Violet crystals that had grown from her chest and forehead long ago glow brightly as her heart pulses with fear, a sensation almost foreign to her. It isn’t fear for herself; it’s for the many inhabitants of the city. It’s a place she’s yet to place a paw, but she feels connected to it in some mystical way and knows that she must help in order for the inhabitants to survive.
Realizing that she has been holding her breath, she forces an exhale and then eyes her destination. There stands Honani, caretaker of the Marble Burrow, and a badger she trusts above most others. When he sees her approach, his indigo colored crystals on his chest and forehead begin to shine.
It won’t be long until your crystals evolve into violet, thinks Nova.
Honani dips his head toward her. “Greetings, Nova.” His voice is calm but firm, holding the utmost respect for his leader and wise counselor.
Nova blinks. “I have a mission. I must leave here and enter another world, one in more turmoil than our own.”
Honani’s eyes widen slightly, but he holds his composure. “I understand. How long will you be gone?”
“Many moons, I fear.”
“Shall I gather a troop for you?” offers Honani.
“They’re needed here. I can’t thin our tribe any more than it is already. There are enough soldiers where I’m going to stop the onslaught, but they’ll need others like me.”
Honani’s posture straightens and he lifts his chest high. “Then I’ll come.”
Nova slowly shakes her head. “No. You’re needed here. Keep the tribe prepared for the next Dim attack.”
The badger nods as his crystals emit a slight glow. He smiles. “We’ll be more than prepared.”
Nova presses her cheek against his, a sign of respect and love, and then pads off to the north to a place where a way point will transport her to the beckoning city.
Heavy snow crunches beneath her feet as she runs at full speed. Her destination is ahead, a city in the mountains in much need of assistance. Reaching a precipice, she starts to quickly climb, digging her claws into rocks and crevasses, each step strategically placed with ease and grace. There were roads, several in fact, leading to the city, but Nova’s way was much faster—straight up.
As she climbs, she notices the grayness of the morning. The sky, rocks, and the tall buildings she could see looming above the city walls are all the same pallid color. Turning her eyes away, she digs her claws deeper into the rocky terrain as a harsh wind buffets against her fur. She closes her eyes, willing the wind to slow itself, which it respectfully does.
She comes to a halt at a large outcrop. She sees that her elevation is hundreds of leopard lengths high, but she is accustomed to that. It makes her feel safe and comfortable. Inhaling the clean mountain air, she absorbs the richness of this foreign land.
Then she glimpses something out of the corner of her eye. A torch bearing army, the largest she’s ever seen, is far off in the distance and marching toward her. Her keen eyes narrow as she observes the one who leads them. He is large, muscular, has green skin and wears a coat of silver armor. He carries a large spear with a sword sheathed at his side. He wears a silver helmet that stops at his forehead, going no further to shield his face. A pig like nose protrudes from human like features and a thick rug of black hair hangs in disarray from under the back of his helmet to his shoulders. The energy around him seemed to squelch any light in his vicinity as he marches, sending out only darkness with each step.
This was the reason she had come, to stop this arriving catastrophe. She needs to get to the city and get to it now; to light the way through the coming darkness.
Speeding up the process, she takes giant leaps from one large rock outcropping to another, until she finds herself at the foot of a large ashlar wall—blocks of squared stone interlocking block on top of block. The finished product looks to be about thirty leopard lengths tall and it is more than just a wall. At the top of it is a parapet protecting a walkway with soldiers standing guard.
Nova leans on her hind legs and leaps again, silently landing on top of the parapet. Two guards standing watch are holding crossbows, watching the advancement of the oncoming enemies below. She hops to the solid stone flooring between them to speak, but before she can open her mouth she hears a startled yell from the guard on her left, then the thud and zip of a crossbow releasing its arrow. With a reaction faster than any the guard has ever seen, Nova spins around the flying arrow, slaps her tail against it, throwing it off course and away from the other guard, harming no one.