Through the fulfillment of an ancient rite, It comes.
From the south and driven as if by destiny straight toward Bhathairk.
And Arethil shook in Its wake.
* * * * *
A messenger, fatally wounded and utterly terrified, arrived in Bhathairk. He pleaded desperately to speak with the Council of Elders. And to them he delivered this succinct message:
"The city...must be evacuated...It's coming. RUN."
Only these words the messenger could speak before his wounds claimed his life. Nothing of where he had come from, or what manner of peril, or how long Bhathairk had--if indeed his words were true at all. The evening of the day had already grown short upon the messenger's arrival, and the firelights of Bhathairk were appearing around the great orcish stronghold. The Council of Elders were split on how seriously they should regard this human messenger. Was he a madman, or a herald? Other than the dead man's words there was no indication of anything amiss.
Until the dawn of the following day.
Lookouts at the Gates spotted something strange in the receding darkness. Something black. Moving. The Council of Elders were notified, and the Seven all rose from their slumber to see for themselves. A Shaman from the Circle of Shamans had come with them, and, because of the great distance, he used a spell of Far Sight to allow the Seven to peer at this anomaly more closely.
What they saw alarmed (and horrified) them.
The Amalgamation--this was all they could think to call It. A titanic, hulking monster towering thirty meters from the earth. Solid black like the space between the night's stars, save for a sickly yellow outline or aura at the edges of Its massive body. Gargantuan arms which dwarfed Its legs, giving It a simian appearance and gait. Two chilling eyes of icy teal were the only distinguishing feature of Its face. Streams of black steam poured off Its body, waving in the wind as if they were the battle standards of an approaching, insurmountable army; it was as if Arethil herself was fighting to subjugate the unholy creature--this thing which should not be--to the Thread of Mortality.
And this thing, the Amalgamation, was walking slowly and steadily...straight toward the city.
Before the sun had even peeked over the horizon, the Council of Elders decreed that all of Bhathairk be evacuated. Immediately.
* * * * *
It quickly became apparent that this evacuation was not going fast enough. At first, all ships and boats present in the Bhathairk harbor were ordered to ferry as many people as possible across the Bystra and Wda rivers and return for more. This process, despite the number of vessels available, was woefully inadequate.
So a terrible and desperate new plan was enacted.
All residents of Bhathairk were ordered then to evacuate the city through the Gates themselves. To follow the outside wall either west to the shore of the Bystra or east to the shore of the Wda. There they could only wait on the vessels to return and ferry them. It was the only option left.
Time would need to be bought. With blood. Every guard of Bhathairk was ordered to form up and prepare for battle in front of the Gates. But the Elders feared that even this would not be enough, so an urgent plea was circulated among those awaiting evacuation: everyone--tribesorc, human, elf, man, woman, adolescent, everyone--who could carry a weapon and had the will to use it to protect their home and their loved ones was urged to join the Line formation of guards standing before the Gates.
Thus the Line was formed; thousands arranged into deep battle formations. Living shields. On the Line's flanks, cavalry--those on horseback and those on dire wolves--assembled and awaited orders from their chieftains and overlords of the guard.
And, standing as a vanguard even before the massive Line protecting the Gate and the stream of civilians fleeing the city, were the adventurers, the sellswords, the brave travelers, the wandering wizards, they who had come from afar and found themselves in Bhathairk in its most dire hour of need.
* * * * *
One of the adventurers in this vanguard was Lazule. She stood among them, they in their meager dozens, the first line of defense for the city of Bhathairk and the innocent people still trapped inside.
Her expression was solid determination. The gaze of her eye relentless upon the Amalgamation, lumbering steadily toward them. The creature was still three kilometers out, yet it loomed large even in this span of distance.
Golden light from the early morning sun cast long shadows from each of the adventurers of the vanguard. A bitter wind blew across the rolling grasslands before the city of Bhathairk. The lock of hair covering Lazule's right eye fluttered in this wind, revealing said eye's cloudy blindness.
She had just come from the Spine. Down from the Monster Hunter's Gilded Vale, where her way of being had been reforged. But this creature pressing upon Bhathairk needed no discernment; Lazule could feel Its wickedness in her bones, curdling her blood, from the mere sight of It. This thing. This Amalgamation. It was a monster.
She breathed in.
Here, in Bhathairk's defense, she could affirm her love for Father.
Here, in Bhathairk's defense, she repent for the sins committed while she had been Broken.
Here, in Bhathairk's defense, she would make her stand. For all that she believed in.
Lazule spoke in general to those around her, never taking her eye off of the distant Amalgamation. She said, "Those idle allow evil to prosper. Righteousness lies solely in action. Holy even are the meek who stand defiant before the wicked. In victory or in death, I shall have no remorse."
A pause.
Stillness.
The Amalgamation approaching in the far distance.
And Lazule lifted her right and swept her left back to front and conjured a Javelin of Light. Her Luminomancy crackled with ferocious magical energy in her grasp.
"Suffer no remorse this day."
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• No strict posting order.
• Feel free to create/use NPCs as you see fit. Bhathairk is a big place.
• A defensive Line holds outside of Bhathairk. An advance group of adventurers stands ahead of them.
• Bhathairk is being evacuated, but the evacuation is not going fast enough. Spots of tension (racial, economic, practical) are stalling the evacuation at the Gates and across the Bystra and Wda Rivers.
• The Amalgamation is walking at a steady pace, from south to north, straight toward the city.
• Every attack damages It. But It can take a lot of punishment.
• Animals (horses, dire wolves, etc.) have a primal fear of The Amalgamation, making mounted combat unreliable at best.
• Pieces blown off of It have a tendency to become Spawns: man-sized, short-lived, frenzied versions of the larger Amalgamation. If these Spawns are violently killed instead of passively evaporating, more damage is done to the Amalgamation.
Good luck, and have fun.