Worst. Holiday. Ever.

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Peter Levy
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Worst. Holiday. Ever.

Postby Peter Levy » Tue Jun 25, 2013 12:21 pm

It started with the University. The University was the pride of the Telerfret people, the crowning glory of Ingolé, the city carved from a mountain. When word reached them that the city was likely to be a target of an Elven attack, Sylas Sage sealed it away. The building swirled and condensed, and was locked away in a glass ball. The ball was found in the rubble of Ingolé, and made its way into D'Arvan's hands. He gave it to Erathil. On the evening of the 22nd of Juts, the University was released. The great stone palace planted itself on one corner of Coshwood Isle.

Over the course of the night, things were going to get worse. A familiar face appeared on Coshwood Isle. A High Elf with a black leather crown. Erathil, god of tyranny had been called to Velmaneth. This Erathil seemed somehow greater in power than the one Velmaneth already knew. He commanded the Elves to follow him, and almost all who did not perished. He slew the Phoenix King as though it was nothing, and dropped his body at the feet of D'Arvan and Kazrazil in Little Piddling. When Erathil returned to Coshwood Isle, he wore a familiar symbol on his sash: a silver rose.

As the Human armies sailed towards Coshwood Isle, mountains of undead sprang up from the sea, tearing the ships apart. The entire invasion force was lost. Across Velmaneth, the ground shook. An action had been taken that could not be undone. Something was digging. Its speed grew exponentially, and eventually it reached the Jewel. On Coshwood Ilse, the ground erupted as a shard of the Jewel reared up through it, destroying almost the entire island. Only a tiny portion remained, with a University precariously perched on top. Erathil was banished by its force.

The Soulless launched their invasion proper, ripping into Sinya Palurin, slaughtering everyone they found. They pushed into the deserts; any who may have been there would have perished. They rased Draconis Tielvar, and began their destruction of Serke Kemi.
Meanwhile, Erathil entered the Realm of Faith, its guardians no match for his power. He met his other self there, and consumed him. He saw a dark figure to his left and a shining one to his right. With a thought, he destroyed the mind of the dark figure, and the shining one fell with him. He consumed the power of Despair and Hope. Many of the gods fled, but some stood firm. Gerethenax was next to fall.
The Erda Ridge, the greatest mountain range on Velmaneth crumbled to dust as Gerethenax withdrew from the world. As the mountains fell, the warding across the Noore I'Meles border fell, and the pink mists of that land began to rise into the air and roll over the south of Sinya Palurin.

As the sun rose, the first attempt to undo the damage was made. Calling out to each of the gods, three ritualists tried as best they could, but were interrupted. Something had severed their link to the gods; something other-worldly. Erathil continued his rampage in the Realm of Faith. Those that stood up to him: Asternia, Varya, Larwayella, even Quayle all fell beneath Erathils power. The sun could no longer be seen in the sky, and now the war was Erathil's. One by one, he set about picking off the remainin gods of Velmaneth.

Further attempts were made to call the power of the gods, to undo the damage done by the command given to the Djinn: to instate Erathil, god of tyranny as leader of the Elven nation in a different timeline. Whatever had dragged him from that timeline to this had triggered this terrible turn of events. Each time the ritual was performed to undo this command, something got in the way. It was identified as something similar to a Yeeta, perhaps? When finally they completed their rite, when all their prayers reached the Realm of Faith, their circle was ready.

But so was Erathil. Their rite had freed him from the Realm of Faith, and he found himself in the Hopewastes. He annihilated Kan Slaar, and collected an ancient relic. Returning to Velmaneth, holding a staff bade of bones in one hand and the flaming sword of Quayle in the other, he traveled to Coshwood Isle. Planting the Staff of the First into the top of the shard of the Jewel, he enacted the rite that previously Erathil had. The world of the living would be merged with the realm of the dead.

Across Velmaneth, those who were still living felt the power of the jewel fade. Eremine's final action was to give what was left of her power to the Heroes at Little Piddling: theirs was the last Essence on Velmaneth, theirs was the only magic that did not belong to Erathil. Bit by bit, Velmaneth was drawn into the Hopewastes.
Serke Kemi crumbled, its Empress wept as her homeland fell. The remains of Noore I'Meles vanished, the Rodera were resigned to it. Pharon Glos collapsed, screams were heard on the wind.

Two shadows appeared on Coshwood Isle, either side of Erathil. Erathil recognised the former paladin of one of the dark gods he had consumed. A halfling in white armour. Bailey struck Erathil in the gut with a weapon born to harm him. A final act of betrayal. Erathil was stuck still, and the shadow behind him hacked into the god's back with all his fury. He had studied his target well, and he had aligned the power of his blows to reflect that of Bailey's weapon. Erathil slumped to the floor. Ashout disappeared before Bailey could lash out at the new paladin.

Erathil was defeated, but it was too little, too late. The shadows of the Hopewastes loomed over Sinya Palurin, sweeping from West to East. In Little Piddling, there was a moment of silence: the end was coming. Silence was broken as a great beast, one of the To'Krein anwered the call Roux and the others had sent to it. It was led into the prepared ritual circle, and slowly the Heroes wore it down. Their weapons attuned to the power of Boltab, the very essence of Velmaneth, they cavred into the To'Krein.

As the To'Krein fell, the powers affecting the world drained. The shadows of the Hopewastes receded, Bailey sank back into his grave, as the gods were restored, one by one. The lands of Velmaneth returned, and the souls of those who had died that night and that morning returned to their bodies. The human armies were still aboard their ships. Noore I'Meles was still sealed off. Gweria still crawled with undead, led by the Four. Coshwood Isle was restored, but the University remained.

The events caused by the command issued to the Djinn had been undone. But the horror of what had happened, the pain, the brutality, and the speed with which it happened remained in the memories of the people of Velmaneth. Careful what you wish for.

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