Epilogue for Timeblock A

Urz’Rael stares up at the walls of the still standing city before him. They mock him by their very existence and his fury swirls about him like red mists of shame. They had come so close! The forces of Good had been scattered before the might of his followers. They had scurried back behind the protection of their sad little walls and now both sides sat hardly any better than they had when the day had begun. The only difference being that the forces of Good had lost a significant portion of their troops in their foolhardy assault on the Obelisk and even now the blasted abomination was practically pulsating with the power drunk off the shed blood at its feet.

Urz’Rael can feel the power flowing from his creation and he revels in it. It draws on the depths of the Abyss and calling out to legions of the damned far below, awakening demonic entities that have slept for eons gone by. Turning, Urz’Rael finds himself drawn to the Obelisk and it is not long before he stands beside it with his hand outstretched to touch the cursed stone.

“Truly a thing of awe, no matter how terrible it is to behold.” A cackling voice gibbers behind him and Urz’Rael spins to see the hulking form of the largest jackal he has ever seen. The beast stands several feet taller than him and gazes admiringly up into the black spire stretching into the night sky, illuminated by the still building fires from the Abyss.

“Who, or what, are you?” Urz’Rael’s guttural voice growls from behind his grated helm.

“I have many names,” The creature does not stir except to lift its head back and bark a short, mocking laugh. “There are those who would call me Father, but that is probably the most inappropriate title that I could bear.” The jackal lowers its gaze to stare at the evil deity before it.

“You, however,” it sneers, “you can call me brother, as we are similar in nature enough to warrant such familiarity.”

“Well, Brother,” Urz’Rael’s hand goes to his belt, where his crimson blade sits, “What is it that you want?”

“From you? Nothing that you didn’t already plan on accomplishing.” The beast rises up onto its feet and begins to circle Urz’Rael, it seems to be looking for an opening to attack. Something about this dance feels familiar, if not comfortable for the evil god.

“You see, I am the true voice of this world’s natural inhabitants,” the beast seems to chuckle as it speaks, its eyes never reflecting any kind of mirth as it stalks. “That green charlatan in her forest knows nothing of balance. She only acts upon her own wishes and claims that it is for the better for her ‘children’ whom she lords over. No, I am the real embodiment of the trees, and the beasts who hunt beneath them, and right now they are crying out in protest. They are angry at the world of men, the enslavement of their brethren and the death of their children are sins that lay thick at the feet of all these pathetic civilizations throughout this world. They beg to be put to the flame for their sins and the children whom I serve demand that it be so. You are the best chance for this retribution and so I come to you to give you the tools that you need to see it done.”

Urz’Rael’s eyes never leave the creature as it stalks its way around him. “What’s in this for you?” He asks.

“Haven’t you been listening?” The jackal howled. “I want the world of men to burn! The cleansing fire will spread, and when you and your ilk have had their fun, then there will be time to rebuild. But this information does not come without its catch, if that’s what you mean.” Urz’Rael simply stood and waited for the beast to speak again.

“Just like you, I have my twin, and right now he is likely speaking with yours, giving him the exact same information. So you’ll need to act swiftly in order to capitalize on this information. Are you ready? Can you do that?” The jackal tilted its head and stared at the Abyssal Lord before him. Urz’Rael nodded.

* * * * * * *
Cathius stands upon his balcony, staring at the huge lion lounging across a divan in his quarters. The massive beast stares patiently at the Shining Lord as he mulls over the creature’s message in his mind, not daring to speak without first understanding the warning it brings.

“This princess is with her father upon the Ardovikian Plains, you say?” Cathius speaks, breaking the stillness of the night.

“Yes,” The lion growls in response.

“And what is so special about her that I would risk our already precarious position to chase after something so seemingly insignificant?”

“As I have said before, she has… bonded with a piece of one of your Godstones, part of your initial makeup. Her power is unstable and volatile, but if you were to recover it, then it would give you the edge over your evil twin.” The lion sits impossibly still as it speaks, although a touch of fire has entered its voice at having to repeat itself.

“Why would you tell me this? What does it give you?” Cathius asks not bothering to hide his mistrust.

“My twin would see the land burn. He thinks that it is the world of men and dwarves, that of wheels and cogs and buildings that would destroy this world. But the fire that he seeks would consume this world, and would kill my children. And so I come to you in hopes that you can stop him in this endeavor. If your twin finishes that Obelisk, and it stands during the 11th hour of this conflict in which the world is embroiled, things will not go well for you or my children. You will be destroyed, and my children soon to follow in many ways.” Cathius turns to look out towards the Abyss and its flickering balefire sending shadows out from its depths. The lion speaks without Cathius bothering to face him.

“You are not my only choice for a champion, but you are the most obvious. Either use the information that I have shared with you, or don’t, but either way you know you will face your twin again soon, in the coming days even. Therefore, prepare yourself in whatever way you feel suits you best.” The creature’s voice is melancholy, but when Cathius turns to face him once again, he finds that he sits in the quiet darkness alone. The bright deity ponders the impossible situation with which he is faced and stares into the waning shadows of the evening.

The long hours of the night begin to shift, and as the crimson sun begins its ascent in the east Cathius gathers his troops and places their backs to the sun. They move west, towards the Ardovikian Plain.

Cathius is somewhat surprised to see that the enemy is also preparing to march west and so the two armies begin their journey, each one eyeing the other with suspicion as they travel. But a tenuous, unspoken ceasefire seems to have arisen between the commanders of the two forces, and somehow this unsteady peace maintains until the two armies diverge their paths. The forces of Light descending into the smoldering remains of the Forest of Galahir while the armies of Evil skirt around the burning woods to enter the plains more directly.

Both forces have had their fill of bloodshed for the time being, but they know that soon the killing will commence again. Shortly it will be necessary to slake the earth with the blood of the fallen. For now, both sides are simply licking their wounds as they prepare for the next step in this bloody affair. And somewhere, high above, the crows are circling, for they too know that it is only a matter of time until they feast.