The Unfated Wanderers Canto 25
The Unfated Wanderers received a Boxing message from Tong Shatterbone:
I have important news for you. Stormcraft village is lost to the invaders. Fern and her horde are retreating towards you. My source says that they will regroup and fight back. Be prepared for anything.
The watchers guarding the Inverted Tower stayed alert in shifts throughout the night. The subtle sense of safety provided by the tower and the lack of disturbances allowed the Learned Scholars of Icebrunt to rest. Tension and worry were eased by hot food, easy sleep and camaraderie.
The onset of afternoon saw geysers of despair spring forth anew. An army approached the area from the west. They halted where the Craftlin Plateau descended into the Foghammer Slopes. The assemblage abruptly turned to face the west. A Scholar pointed out the flags and banners as those of Stormcraft. Fern Quickstream’s cult and horde had arrived.
Within an hour, another army arrived, also marching from the west. The Stormcrafters did not allow them to prepare for battle. Instead, they harnessed the foul magic that killed giants. Purple holes opened in the sky. Oily black bolts of lightning burst from the breaches, burning through the air, landing within the ranks of the invaders. Great swaths of charred flesh and burst bodies were cut by the Stormcraft cult. The invasion force’s lines were wide and long. Despite the havoc, they surged forward, eager to close the gap and render the magic ineffectual, lest the Stormcraft horde burn themselves.
The edges of the purple portals in the sky defined the border between Living World and Realm of Terrors. As the Stormcrafters cast their spells, the holes grew larger and larger. Each opening continued to spread wider until the disparate holes became a single gaping maw. The sky burned away like paper set aflame in its center. The advancing army ceased their attack and stopped, pointed at the sky and cried aloud as one. The Stormcraft horde’s eyes were drawn skyward, following the direction their foes indicated. The onslaught of lightning ceased as two silent armies froze in fear.
The Learned Scholars of Icebrunt, with the aid of Rings of Hellsight, witnessed a flood of Darkling Fomenters cascade into the Living World, gushing through the terrible violet breach in the sky. Each Terror was six times larger than the biggest of humans and each Terror was painfully beautiful. Their otherworldly allure wrested the gazes of the terrified people. Yet the attraction was mangled by an aura of fear that rained upon the land. They glided towards the ground on rigid wings of curling black smoke. A single obsidian tongue of flame danced on each brow and each Darkling wielded a long, black knife.
The silence was broken by a heart rending shout fueled by unimaginable terror come to life. It was Unbe Magister’s woeful cry:
“The Confines are torn! The Realm of Terrors is invading!”