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Post by Arogash the Unforgiven on Feb 18, 2017 2:51:40 GMT
Arogash paused alone in the tunnel, just short of the door that led to the real world. The gray tunnels of the aiudarin paths had an oppressive sameness, but eager as he was to return to Ardell and his home plane, he felt an unaccustomed hesitance. Open this door and the die would be cast, no going back.
He took down his hood, revealing pointed ears and a burn-scarred face. The guards on the other side of the door, once he opened it, would see him as both one of their own and something repulsive. That had been the standard reaction among his people for over a decade now - friends, even. Family. The long-lived and beautiful had no patience for someone who reminded them that their blessings could be ephemeral.
Arogash brought up the harp on his back and tuned it by ear, then pulled out a certain stone. The door opened. He stepped from the tunnel's demiplane into the real world, specifically the heart of the forest kingdom of Aida. He closed his eyes, taking in sunlight and the scent of trees. Elven voices asked his name without suspicion. In answer, he began picking out a complex tune.
The gates of the aiudarin paths represented a seam between worlds. The sunlight dimmed as something began to force its way through that seam. The outline of a monstrous, pale, jagged tower took form among the trees, its foundations right beside the gate. Shouts rose around him. He kept playing.
Within perhaps half a minute, the tower stood real and tangible in the centre of the kingdom. Hot, screeching wind rushed around Arogash as the tower's inhabitants stormed out of its windows and gates. Twisted, foul, with thorny piercings and ribbed wings, they attacked the gate's Elven guardians en masse.
He slung his harp on his back and put his hood up once more. Humming the song his harp had played, he stepped back into the tunnel and walked away.
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Post by The Dark One on Feb 18, 2017 8:54:56 GMT
Many gates lay through magic. Yet all had one common feature, without control of the next there would be no easy passage between. For the Realm of Darkness this had been their curse, the living Realm’s blessing and protection from the horrors within. The Dark Gods had been imprisoned within and no direct doorway into the corporal world had been left assembled, for the elder ones had decided that would be enough to hold the Dark Gods at bay, to keep them away forever. However they had not anticipated the guile and sheer cunning tenacity of the Dark Ones, for as long as time had existed they had prodded and pillaged to try and get back through to the fertile lands of harvestable souls, and several times they had in millennia past.
Yet of late, despite time having no consequence for those of the Dark Realm it had been increasingly harder to even locate the living realms, the decline of magic within those lands making it all but invisible to the gaze of the seers, so their attention had turned elsewhere. To other lands, the homes of the gods themselves. They conquered and spoilt, burnt and pillaged. Deamons of every variety feasting on the souls of those who called such places home, all the while commanded by those who would see it all for one purpose. Entrance to the Living Realms. Several times over they had come close, shades of their own will entering the world that held them banished, each time a great catastrophe falling upon the people within yet not the intended harm the Dark Ones wished.
All that however was about to change.
For within the Dark Tower, the formidable construct that stood like a titan of old across the Darkened shadow clone of Ardell the messengers had arrived. A gate had been opened, through the old pathways of the Aiudarin, a realm long held by the manipulations of the Grey Sorcerers of Kand. It seemed something had tried to re-enter the world that it once called home, for their would be no other way.
It was all the chance the Dark Spawns needed.
The Dark One had summoned his mount, a great winged beast of twisted power. Three dark heads spewed evil wishes upon all who saw it, towering as large as the Dragon’s of the living. From it’s saddle a horde would be amassed and upon the Aiudarin they would march. For the gateway still stood.
For the beasts and deamons that began to pour through it the assault would be a welcome reminder of their thirst and hunger, for the living beyond it would be an eye opener to the horrors thought mere legends, fables and stories to scare children.
The Horde of Darkness came.
The Dark One had arrived.
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Post by Arogash the Unforgiven on Feb 18, 2017 16:17:21 GMT
It didn't take long for Arogash to realize that the planar intersection was growing complex. In a practical sense, that meant additional breaches were forming in the boundary between the aiudarin paths and the unknown realms beyond. One of those realms had spawned the huge pale tower that now stood in the heart of Aida. Now greater forces were pouring into the paths, perhaps from the same place as the tower, perhaps from others. Pressed into a crevice in the tunnel wall, harp clutched to his chest, the hooded elf experienced mild chagrin. Clearly he'd miscalculated somewhere along the way. This horde storming past him wasn't the army he'd planned to unleash. And it owed him nothing.
The fissure widened around him, becoming more than just a gap in the paths' gray stone. Twisted forms shoved past him in the dark. He strummed a quick sequence and they shoved themselves aside, letting him move deeper into the crevice. Then he was standing somewhere else entirely, in a dark and blasted reflection of Aida, with an army streaming past into a cave. He leaned on a withered tree and fought to catch his breath.
From the passages they'd been taking, this army would most likely exit at a handful of aiudarin gates in and around Aida. Nearby kingdoms might be getting unexpected visitors as well.
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Post by The Dark One on Feb 20, 2017 19:44:23 GMT
Stepping between worlds was like being born. Nothing ever felt the same as when you were in your own domain, yet for the Dark One this rebirth was full of pain, anguish and bloodlust. For the most part it had been the lesser demonic forces that had at first slipped into the reality of Aida, beasts of horns and unworldly forms screaming through the night as they trod onto the very soil that had for so long been hidden away from them. In an instant they had taken to the city, smouldering bodies igniting trees and homes.
The people that first were encountered stood no chance. They would be cut down in their beds, in the streets and where they stood. Demonic blades slicing through armour and flesh with equal ease, the souls of those killed taken not to the afterlife but screaming back to the Realm of Darkness to feed the Dark Gods insatiable hunger. A fate beyond death it would seem. Yet as the smoke began to rise, the twisted magikfires of green and blue spread Aida would still mount a defence, the demonic forces having only began their pillaging massacre in the outskirts.
From the portals that had opened a great screech sounded, piercing eardrums and sowing fear, the beast that followed changing that fear into horror. Like a dragon, yet twisted and beastial. Dark fur met with leathery wings, a gryphon gone wrong, twisted and malformed into a huge shadowed version of itself. This was Dar’Nok, the steed of the Dark One and gifted of the Gods. The beast would enter Aida with several beats of its massive wings, claws removing what little resistance stood in its way be it friend or foe. Three monstrous heads all vying for the next kill, yet the moment belonged not to they, but to it’s rider.
The Master of this horde.
From his fingertips dark clouds began to spread, created by the foul magics of his realm that were allowed to spill forth ever more powerful with each death at demonic hands. Faces could be seen screaming and trying to escape the blackness, each pulled back as they nearly erupted from within. The ooze began to spread, upwards and outwards blanketing the area in a cloud that sucked the very souls out of the weak-minded, they would all know fear. Every last one of them.
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Post by Stormwall on Feb 21, 2017 2:01:47 GMT
The Ashdell trade convoy paused on a bluff overlooking the last stretch of the route. Downhill, the road vanished into the forests of Aida.
"Heck of a view," opined Old Tholomew, the halfling miner, who'd pulled up his wagon beside Stormwall. "That tower is something else."
"More so because it wasn't there an hour ago," said Stormwall grimly. "And that thunderhead came on sudden too. Maybe the elves have some strangeness to do with time or illusion." His nostrils flared, and he felt his ears twitch. "There's a strange scent on the wind, Thom."
"Elves always smell."
"Not like burnt blood. I hear rushing water - no, I think it's wings. Thousands of them."
Old Tholomew spat tobacco-juice into the roadside grass. "You're thinking this is a serious thing."
"How fast do you think you could get the convoy turned around and heading back through the hills?"
"Quarter hour. Not a lot of room to turn up here against the slope."
Stormwall nodded, still squinting at the forest. "I'd get started on that."
"And you?"
"We need eyes down there. Don't wait for me." Stormwall pulled his bow from its sheath and strung it. A Dwarven cleric had blessed it a few months back, but there was no telling how effective it.might be today. He tossed a wave to Old Tholomew and cantered down toward the forest,leaving the wagons to turn and run.
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Post by Lyian Elerron on Feb 22, 2017 18:25:09 GMT
It had all started as a fairly idyllic day in Arnae Aida. It was one of the rare occurences when Lyian was in the capital. Normally he was abroad on either crown business or on a personal mission, but today he was giving a report to His Majesty. The courtesies given to Wayfinders allowed him to move about the royal grounds in full armor and under arms. So he was doing just such when he was walking from the inn he had stayed at the night before to the royal residence. He had his report prepared, all in his mind. Wayfinders didn't like to leave a paper trail. Then everything went to hell, figuratively and literally. The first few moments were unthinkable, battle hardened Knights, Scouts, and Mages were dumbstruck as demonic forces emerged from portals and a tower that had magically appeared. Many died in those first few moments, but Aida had not stood the test of time by being weak. Knights drew their weapons, and Scouts flitted about the area with their bows, and the tide was stagnated. Potent magics brought forth by mages who had studied the eddies of the arcane energies for centuries scoured the skies, bringing down many in the horde. Horns sounded around him, calling all to the aid of the kingdom as Lyian began his deadly dance. His enchanted blade met and dispatched dark enemies as he spun past defenses. Thought was not a luxury he had time for at the moment as he lashed out with enchanted blade, augmenting himself with minor magics as he did. He had a gut feeling this would not be a small incursion. Stormwall The Dark One Arogash the Unforgiven
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Post by Arogash the Unforgiven on Feb 23, 2017 2:24:37 GMT
The Dark OneArogash regained his physical balance and presence of mind as he crouched in a crevice's shelter. No matter which way he looked, all he could see was the horde. Teeming bodies and thorny weapons choked every portal he could see, discern, or intuit. There would be no returning to Ardell, not anytime soon. That left perhaps four options. Remain in this spot. Not appealing. Attempt to open a new breach into the aiudarin paths. Probably beyond him. Wander in this poorly lit and hostile wasteland until he found hints of another place where he could break into the aiudarin more easily. Maybe. Head for that massive, ugly, dark tower on the horizon, the one from which the armies were pouring. Well, absolutely. He strummed an atonal song on his harp and walked through the horde unnoticed.
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