One of the most tragic stories I have uncovered to date, here follows the demise of Lord Mess, whose untimely end shook up the Lords of Krynn. Until now it was uncertain exactly what had happened to him. Through extensive research into captured documents, eyewitness accounts, and a tome filled with unholy rituals and first-hand accounts of demonic history (obtained from a source which will remain forever anonymous), I have attempted to bring his final days to light.
Make no mistake, this material is not pretty. The bulk of this story covers the combat between Mess and the daemon Krekk. I have edited out as much of the foul language as possible, as well as the more unsettling descriptions of gore, et cetera.
Lord Mess, a man of great heart, ultimately found a noble end to this life, but at great cost. His loss is our loss. My thanks go out to Lady Kianne, and to a great number of other Lords of Krynn. A great many of his friends have expressed their desire to know just how he died, and have given me encouragement to finish this work. I humbly submit this in his memory.
Until we meet again, at the Inn of the Last Home.
-- Cleric Theobald
Keeper of the White Stoll, Holy Order of Stars
Guild Scribe, Lords of Krynn
***
Just off shore, the water elemental coursed through the water to go and pick up reinforcements. Its blood lust nearly overcame it every time it got near the shore, and seeing the man standing on the beach nearly drove it crazy but its master had given an order, and it felt it had to obey. Behind it dragged the massive raft through the water at speeds faster than a boat could travel. On that raft a light flashed and Mess appeared, releasing the ring on his finger. The elemental didn't notice.
"It's time to take the battle to the commander," Mess muttered.
The raft, charging through the water being dragged by the water elemental, began to slow. Mess looked up and shook his head at the amount of orcs and such being loaded up for a new assault. One orc raised its head and looked out at the last of the approaching rafts. Mess dropped to the deck and lay still, hoping not to be noticed. The orc looked away and continued doing what it was doing. Mess sighed a sigh of relief; it seemed luck was with him. The raft surged over waves as it approached the shore. Mess concentrated on his right index finger, then with a flash vanished. The elemental surged up onto the beach, eager to load and be off. Mess appeared behind an outcropping of rock and looked on as the hordes loaded up onto the rafts. One by one they departed and raced back towards Skara. Mess counted thirty elementals, ten to each. That means the Rangers would receive another three hundred orcs, and no doubt there would be many mages in that lot. Mess shook his head.
"This needs to end now!" he muttered. Mess ran into the camp, dodging between tents and campfires, whenever an orc came into view he melded into the shadows then came out, blade singing and silencing the threat. Mess saw his target in the distance, a massive tent being guarded by a few elementals and thirty orcs. He stopped short and sunk into another shadow as darkness swept by. Light bent and sunk into a moving shape as it passed. The shape vaguely resembled a man, but it was hard to see through the cloak of darkness. It moved into the massive tent, then light returned to normal. Mess shuddered. He sat studying the tent and the troops deployed around, watching their patterns and movements. Then he moved, sprinting from shadow to shadow, moving ever closer. He rounded a tree and caught his foot on a root and tumbled to the ground. Mess rolled out and crouched, wondering how he fell over a root and wondering if any heard him. The tree rustled and branches reached down for him and he realized the trap. "No time." He cursed and incanted; a blue haze enveloped the tree and froze it. Mess looked at his hands in wonderment. Where did that come from, he wondered. "No time," he muttered, and with silence and stealth moved ever closer to the command tent, with a plan formulating in his mind.
Mess dove through the tent wall, coming into a rolling crouch. Krekk roared in defiance and clapped his hands together, incanting a spell. The ground erupted and a pillar of flame leaped up, encompassing Mess. He dived to the side, landing hard on the ground prepared to roll around putting out the flames, but to his surprise none had touched him. Mess stood and drew his sword.
As soon as it was out of the scabbard it sang. Light brighter and more pure than the sun radiated out and it sang a song of joy. The light streamed off to the side and flowed into something standing in the doorway, but time was short and the daemon was upon him. The world slowed and Mess leaped forward. Like a serpent striking, the sword struck and bit deeply, twice. Gashes opened up in Krekk's side and the song of the sword rang louder. Krekk shrieked, leaping back, flailing his arms for protection, but the magicly quickened Mess did not relent. In he went again and again, sword and wielder delivering blow after blow. It was all Krekk could do but deflect them with his hands and arms, but they suffered as the blade bit deep, showering Krekk with pain.
Finally, Krekk screamed and leaped into the air, straight through the canvas roof of the tent, then incanted. The tent exploded with fire, and everything in it was thrown through the canvas out to the ground surrounding it, including Mess. He stood up, though, and smiled. He marveled at the fact that once again he hadn't received a wound, then looked up. Krekk beat his wings, keeping himself above the tent roof. Krekk clapped his hands again with another incantation, and energy ripped out of the air and slammed into Mess. He went flying backwards, slammed into a tree, and slumped to the ground with the air knocked out of him. Although the magic from the energy bolt hadn't hurt him, the force into the tree had. Mess sat wheezing for a second, then reacted with his honed instincts and rolled to his right as Krekk slammed into the tree. The force of the collision uprooted it and Krekk wielded it as a mighty club. He swung it around and down, Mess trying to run clear was caught and smashed to the ground. Krekk lifted the tree to bring down another blow and was surprised to see his target was not there. Then pain coursed up his leg as a sword penetrated his calf. The tree fell and Krekk spun, swinging his hands in a barrage of blows, striking Mess one after the other. Mess deflected a few, but couldn't react quick enough to deflect them all. Krekk roared as blood lust coursed through his veins, raining his fury on his opponent.
For Mess, his sword sang in defense, but pain still was forthcoming as blows got through his defense, claws racked at his face and pierced his armor. Then the world slowed again, and this time Mess was wondering what had taken so long. He dodged to the side, left, right, back and forth dodging Krekk's blows. Frustration began to show on Krekk's face. Mess parried off blows and managed to strike a few, stabbing inside Krekk's guard and one down into his groin. Krekk increased his speed, either by magic or not Mess didn't know, but the speed and fury of his blows increased and now even he who was magicly fast had trouble avoiding the blows. Mess fell into a trance-like state, not thinking of anything but reacting purely by instinct. The sword became an extension of himself, and he felt himself speed up to match Krekk's pace. Blow after blow was turned aside from Krekk, then Mess struck unrelenting. Krekk dodged, parried , kicked and clawed and deflected the blows, and increased his pace again, beginning to return blow for blow.
So it continued, both combatants faced off, striking and deflecting, dodging and stabbing. Any who were watching would have just seen a black and green blur swirling together, and from that swirl a sword shining as bright as the sun, and that brightness drawn back to the burning tent into a form standing there, watching.
Krekk maneuvered Mess around with his back to the downed tree, and pummeled at him. Krekk had lost all feeling in his body, and now was working just on rage alone. He advanced, pushing Mess back, hoping he would stumble over the tree. But Mess somersaulted back, landed on it, and continued his assault. Krekk roared in frustration and he continued to move along--now he was being pushed aside as Mess tried to advance. Mess went to take a step forward, when out of a hole a small bird stuck its head and he hesitated. That split second of hesitation was all Krekk needed, and he let Mess know it with a solid clawed punch under his chin. The blinding blow nearly ripped Mess' head off. The force sent Mess up and over backwards. He lost his grip on his sword and the world sped up again. He slammed onto the ground on his back and the wind was knocked out of him. Krekk screamed in joy as he leaped onto the tree and prepared for the kill. Drool hung from his mouth like a rabid dog.
With the release of the sword, all feeling came back to Mess, and pain coursed up through his body. He nearly passed out, but held on by some strength he had left. He rolled over and screamed in pain as a branch of the tree that had pierced his back when he had landed snapped off. Blood seeped from many wounds and wet the ground below him. Krekk leaped down off the tree and landed next to him, looking down studying. Mess looked up and spied the sword and reached for it. Krekk, seeing what he was doing, laughed, kicking it aside out of reach. Then he brought his hand down and slammed it into Mess' back. Mess convulsed with the pain and screamed, and Krekk rolled him back over and peered into his face. Drool spilled out of his foul mouth and fell onto Mess, burning where it touched. Mess winced, then smiled as a thought came to him. Krekk's brow furrowed in confusion. Mess concentrated on his right index finger, and with a flash he disappeared and reappeared on top of his sword. He grasped it and pulled a rune from one of the two pouches he had.
Krekk screamed and dived forward as Mess incanted then slammed into the ground where Mess had been laying. Krekk reared back on his hind legs and let out a blood curdling shriek louder than any he had before. The ground shook and trees trembled, then he stood up and winced in pain. His hands and arms were torn, and bone was revealed in many places. A squad of orcs he had sent away previously came running back to report and stopped in surprise, seeing Krekk standing there in such bad shape. Blood spurted in many places and the orcs grinned thinking they could take him. They thought again as Krekk leaped forward, tearing them apart in his fury. In an instant he had ten beating hearts in his hands and devoured them, absorbing their life energy. With that his wounds closed over and he felt slightly better. He looked towards the island of Skara Brae and sensed magic. Not just any magic, but the magic of Bane--the sword. He concentrated on it and jumped into the air, great wings catching the air. He heard laughter coming from the burning tent and fury pulsed through his being. He incanted over and over and over, energy bolts flew to the tent and exploded left right and center. He screamed, "Fiend!" then turned in the air and flew hard and fast, meaning to destroy the ranger and claim what was rightfully his.
Krekk neared the island and flew over rangers and orcs battling. Down on the ground they pointed and wielded magic at him, but he sped over too fast. He felt it getting closer and he closed in. At the other side of the island he slowed and looked around. Then his mouth dropped open as a voice cut the air. Krekk looked down to hear the challenge being called to him, and smiled in delight as he saw the ranger standing, arms folded, looking up at him. He beat his wings and lifted even higher into the air and issued a battle cry. The ground shook with the fury of his voice, and he snapped his wings and propelled himself down to the waiting ranger. He soared through the air, ever gaining speed, and bared his taloned hands forward to strike out against foe.
Mess stood with his arms folded as he spied Krekk dropping out of the sky like a wingless dragon. "Krekk!" he screamed, "It's time this ended!" He waited until the last moment, then dived to his right into a roll and came up with his sword drawn. The singing stopped and the ranger advanced as the daemon slammed into the ground where he had been standing. "Krekk!" Mess screamed as he leaped in, striking the first blow. His sword arched through the air and struck at Krekk's black skin, cleaving a gash that would kill any mortal man. Krekk screamed in pain and recoiled as the sword came to life. Then they danced. The speed was astonishing, but they kept it up, blow after blow. The song of Bane thundered through the air as its magic flashed a pure white light, piercing into the Krekk's wounds. Krekk leaped back, spun faster than Mess could comprehend, and slammed him with the back of his hand and leapt into the air screaming in agony with his wings beating, lifting him clear. Smoke came from his wounds and Krekk felt pain coursing up into his dark soul. He flew further up into the air, stopped and incanted. Flame leaped from the ground in a wall that enveloped Mess. The stone on the ground melted with the heat and the buildings close by began to smoke and blacken. He incanted again and again, filling the area with fire so intense the stones exploded.
Mess stepped out from the flames surrounded with a blue glow, untouched, and raised his sword in another challenge. Krekk roared in defiance and incanted again. He slapped his hands together and a blinding arc of energy ripped outward and slammed into Mess, sending him flying through the wall of flame and into one of the blackened walls. Mess rolled to his knees and raised his sword once more. "Fight me, Krekk," he muttered, then concentrated on a ring on his right index finger. Krekk looked on and roared in disappointment as the ranger went to his knees. He beat his wings, hovering fifteen feet in the air, watching as the ranger disappeared in a flash of light. He furrowed his brow in confusion then widened his eyes in surprise as the ranger appeared in front of him. Krekk reacted, swinging his taloned hand, striking Mess' torso, then laughed as he knew the ranger would fall to the ground. His laughter was cut short as the sword swung down as Mess fell and sliced into his wing. Tendons snapped and bone cracked with the impact of the sword. Then his wing snapped off and separated from his body. He screamed agony as he plummeted to the ground right behind Mess. The two slammed into the ground with Mess hitting first, then the Krekk landing on top of him.
Neither moved for a while, then Krekk stirred. With a roar the daemon leaped to his feet and spun in a circle. The agony coursing through his body was nearly unbearable and he roared in pain and fury. He gathered his wits and spun to face the ranger laying on the ground where he had landed. Blood soaked the ground where Mess lay. Krekk walked over and lifted him up with one hand and pressed his face close. Mess didn't show any sign of life, but still held firmly to the sword. Krekk coiled his arm and dashed to the side and slammed Mess into and through a blackened wall. As Mess hit the wall, his hand let go of the sword and it began to sing. Krekk roared again.
Krekk looked down then reached and picked up Bane. He roared a triumphant cry and the sword wailed in misery. Then a bolt of energy tore through the hole in the building and into him. Another came and another and Krekk staggered back from the force of the blows. Krekk saw through the hole Mess readied himself for another spell on one knee, incanting weakly with blood smeared down his face and coming out his mouth as he spoke. Krekk snapped off an incantation before Mess finished and he froze the ranger. Krekk leaped forward and slammed through the wall, knocking Mess aside. Mess struggled against the magic holding him, but it was too strong. Krekk spun around, brandished the sword and said, "With this you could kill me, but with this I could sunder this world." He laughed, then Mess broke free and leaped forward, grabbing the blade of the sword and forcing it over into Krekk's chest.
Krekk roared and jumped back, shaking the ranger loose before he could force the sword in any further. As Mess fell, he incanted again and an explosion rocked the daemon. Krekk slammed back against a wall as the explosion tore at his skin on his stomach. Mess didn't waste any time as he incanted again and a bolt of energy tore into Krekk again. Krekk screamed with the pain and convulsed. He dropped the sword and slumped to the ground with blood seeping from his wounds. Mess slumped to the floor, exhausted and hurt. He looked up as Krekk dropped the sword and leaped forward, knowing it was his only chance against Krekk. Krekk reacted like lighting and pulled the sword back out of Mess' reach and slammed his other hand forward, striking Mess in the face. Mess fell to the ground with blood spilling onto the ground from his face. Mess tried to get to his knees but fell as Krekk picked up the sword and brought it straight down into his back. Mess gasped as the sword pierced his armor and sliced through him coming out his chest. Blood flowed from his mouth as his lungs filled and he gasped for breath. All his strength left his body and he began a slow painful slide into blackness.
Krekk pulled the sword free, roared, and raised it up over his head and brought it down to cleave the ranger's head off. As the blade came to within a hair's width of it, he stopped and pulled it back then laughed in triumph. He looked down and smiled at the blood surrounding the ranger. "You'll not get away that easy," he said, then incanted. Krekk wielded the sword and struck the walls making a hole big enough to walk through. Wood showered down around him and he stepped back outside the building. He held the sword outward and incanted, channeling his magic through it and a red haze surrounded him. The bleeding stump on his back that was once his wing glowed a harsh red then sealed up. The wound in his chest closed over and his torn stomach stopped bleeding and healed, leaving a mighty scar. Then the red haze dissipated and the glowing subsided. He flexed his remaining wing. He stepped back inside the building and picked up the ranger and stepped back out of the building.
He looked around to survey how the battle went and roared in disgust as he realized his best laid plans had been ruined by a bunch of tree hugging rangers, armor-clad knights, and a few peasants. Hundreds of orcs still ran around engaging in battle, but soon they would fall and be overcome by the better warriors. The elementals had all but failed in their tasks and his force of over one thousand was now reduced to a few dozen. He snorted in disgust, then looked at the sword in his hand and smiled. There was one small victory for himself. He had, after so many years, regained the only weapon that could kill him, and with it he would bring down the wretched rangers. Krekk had a thought of Sargasian laughing at someplace far off, and fury welled inside him. Krekk adjusted the ranger on his shoulder and incanted. A red portal opened up in front of him, he looked around one last time, then stepped forward into the gate.
***
Awareness returned. Pain. Darkness. I'm alive. Pain; all he could remember was pain! For a second it eased, then pain shot through his body as his arm was snapped in half. He screamed and struggled against his bonds. The arm was healed as he saw a red haze surround the arm, but even that act of healing caused strange pain. The arm was snapped again. Pain and finally blissful unconsciousness.
Some time later, he awoke again with a start. Pain shot through his body and he winced. Darkness surrounded him on all sides, and the smell of death was strong in the air. A shuffling noise not far off told him he was not alone. He whispered a question, wanting to know who was there, but there was no response. He tried to stand; pain shot through his body and he cried out then slumped back to the ground. He rested, daring not to move for the pain. He was naked, he realized, and his legs were bound. He wrung his hands and laughed; his ring was still there. How could it be? How could they miss it? he whispered in his mind. He tried to remember the last few days, but all he saw and remembered was pain. Dizziness swept over him, then he swooned and vomited. Even the clenching of his stomach caused pain.
He laughed again and fingered the ring. He concentrated, trying to feel its magic. He smiled. He had found the ring in his grandfather's belongings. That day had been horrendous for him. Coming home to find your entire family slaughtered could ruin the best of men, but he was just a boy then and he had walked away and lived. The ring had been in a box with a journal of his grandfather's trip from Krynn to this world, and the ring was described in the journal as a mystic heirloom passed down from mages within the family. He knew its powers, as they were written on those very same pages, and now he needed one of them.
Concentrate he did; in he delved to find what he needed. The primary power of the ring was easy to access as it resided in the gates to its power. Anyone using it could use that spell, but to gain the other powers required skill and a mind of strength. Delving within the ring was like journeying through a land within the mind. First the gates had to be passed and to do so a word was needed--his family name. He had journeyed into the ring on many occasions, but the first was worst as he had been just a boy and was lost within for weeks. He stepped through with the word of his family on his lips. The gates passed behind him and light showered down from above. He glanced around and realized he was inside a maze of bookshelves filled with books; always was the entrance different. He walked through the rows of books looking for an exit and was dismayed to find none. Scratching his head, he smiled; he hadn't said the family name yet, so he couldn't have passed the gates. He said it out aloud with pride, and a door appeared in front of him. It swung outwards, opening, and he caught his breath; always did it still his heart to see the domain of the ring.
He looked out from the doorway over a vast city; towers rose up into the sky with majesty and grace. Clouds formed around the base of all the buildings forming the ground. He looked around and discovered a new portion to the city; it seemed every time he came back in there was something different, albeit dangerous or not. The sky shone with a blue radiance and a sun blazed overhead; always at midday when he entered. Three moons were in the sky in a triangle around the sun, one shining white, one red, and the last black as night. As the day passed, they rotated about the sun on its journey down. The air was fresh, sweet, and crisp; the only thing lacking was life. There was nothing living here; even the vegetation in the forests and the gardens were a fake, meant only to resemble not mimic. No birds flew and no animals ran, and hence the place was always under foreboding silence; you could hear a pin drop from a mile away.
The book was at his feet as it always was, and he picked it up. Clothing was upon his body! Usually he came naked. Maybe my will is finally strong enough to master this domain. He stepped forward and the doorway behind him disappeared. He turned and frowned; never had that happened before. Shrugging, he walked on he and scanned through the book, seeking what he wanted. He smiled and read the page aloud. "Body and pain, shower of light, regeneration of self, tower of sky." He looked up, waiting--hoping the ring would show him the way to what he sought as it had done many times before. His body needed continuous healing or else he might perish in the pit of doom he was in. Nothing happened as time passed, so he sighed and began his search. Maybe a clue or two would be found. So he walked.
***
Deep below the ground, Krekk stood over the body of a dying, bleeding ranger. He stretched his wing and tensed his muscles. He had become even more powerful after a few days of wielding the mighty Bane, but he had not been able to restore his other wing. Krekk coiled his foot back at the thought of not being able to fly and slammed it home hard into the ranger's rib cage. The snap of bones echoed off the walls, but the ranger didn't scream or even flinch. Krekk leaned down and grabbed him by the hair to examine him closely. He wasn't dead. Krekk slammed the ranger back to the ground and growled. "You're not dead, ranger Mess, but where is your soul?"
Then Krekk stood over Mess' body once again, and laughed in triumph. He had figured out Mess had some how astral traveled and left his body behind. But the trail was confusing, and finally he tracked the life cord back to Mess' hand. He knelt, examining his hand, but could see nothing. Fury enveloped him and he brought Bane to hand and struck hard and fiercely at Mess' wrist. The hand cleaved, and instantly Krekk saw the ring. Mess' body convulsed with the loss of its hand but didn't die. Krekk roared, "Time is up, ranger," spun and brought Bane down and cleaved Mess' head off his shoulders. His body convulsed as blood soaked the ground and his body died. The astral cord tied from Mess' body to his soul broke away at his body's death and began descending into the ring. Krekk, ready for this, incanted through the sword and, as if grasping it with his hand, his soul, dank and corrupted, tore from his body and followed. As he descended, Krekk smiled, for Bane the sword was in his soul's hand not the hand of his body.
***
In the domain of the ring, Mess looked at the door of a tower that stretched up into the blue sky. "What else could be the tower of the sky but this?" he said to himself. He stepped inside and a blue light flashed. He spun around and realized he was in a room with no doors. He ran to a window and peered out, and swoned at the unimaginable height. Three lights flashed behind him and he spun to see three gates opening up, pulsing blue and red. "What's going in he--" then screamed in pain and dropped to one knee in agony. First his wrist he held, then pain nearly broke him as he neck seared with pain. Just then, another light flashed and the daemon appeared.
"SURPRISE!" he roared, and dove forward with Bane in his hand, swinging a mighty arc meant to cleave his head. Mess dived to the side, defenseless. He knew he was dead if Krekk killed him here, but how had Krekk gotten here? Krekk leaped forward again, stabbing, and Mess barely fell to the side in time to miss a strike to his heart, scoring his arm instead. Mess screamed in agony as Bane roared a song of misery. Mess screamed, "NO!" and thrust his hand out, summoning Bane to himself.
Krekk began to laugh, but was cut short as the sword screamed in joy and flew from his hand to land in Mess'. The ranger's sword flared white, and Mess dove forward, stabbing the sword deep into Krekk's chest. Light exploded, and Mess was thrown backward, landing heavily on his back--the wind out of his lungs he struggled to take a breath. He couldn't hardly move for the pain in his neck and wrist.
Krekk was thrown back against the wall and he, stunned, reached a hand to his chest but was shocked to see a gaping hole. His black heart still pulsed and he summoned his innate magic to staunch the flow of his black blood. Weakly he fell forward and crawled to Mess and reached for the sword.
As Krekk's hand came close, Mess rolled over and weakly kicked his hand aside. He tried to stand but his legs seemed to become gaseous. Krekk laughed as he saw the confusion cross Mess' face. Mess, kneeling looking down at his legs dissolving, looked up at Krekk and fury crossed his face as he saw Krekk laughing.
Krekk spoke with blood foaming at his mouth. With blood gurgling on his voice, he told Mess the final truth about himself. "You are dead, ranger," he said. "I killed you, then entered here to claim your soul. I have won, ranger; I have won, and now I will sunder the world."
Mess screamed as he knew it was true; the dissolving continued up his legs and reached his pelvis. A tear ran down his cheek for the life he would lose, and for the people he loved so much who he would never see again. He screamed at Krekk, "You'll not ever win, Krekk, for to sunder the world you need this, and now it goes to another world where another champion will take up the struggle against your tyranny! I gladly sacrifice my life to aid those I love." With a surge of energy, Mess leaned back and threw the sword Bane through the centermost gate. It flared brightly as it soared through the air and sang a song of farewell to Mess. It spun, end over end, then entered the gate. The sword landed on a grassy hill inside the gate, then began to smolder and sink into the ground.
Krekk screamed and crawled forward. Mess, with his body dissolving around him, found he could do nothing as Krekk crawled towards him, screaming for his soul and to what world he had dispatched his prize. Mess reached his hand forward, the only thing completely solid left, and dragged his body to the gate. "You'll not have my soul, Krekk. Never," he said, then pulled himself up into the light and through the gate. It flared brightly with brilliant blue-white light.
Krekk screamed and slammed his fists on the ground. As soon as Mess went through the gate the room began to shake. An almighty roar issued from below, and the walls became engulfed in fire. Krekk, with his final efforts of life, crawled forward to go through the gate. As he came close, he looked to the ground and there, inscribed in ever so small runes, was a phrase set before the gate. He read it and roared, "Mess, we shall meet again!" and pulled himself through with a flash of light. As he did so, the daemon wondered what the runes had meant; for they read:
Reborn into the womb of Norrath.
***
And as the tower crashed to the ground inside the domain of the ring, the domain itself crumbled and fell in onto itself as the last heir of the Maker family departed from the world once called Sosaria but now Britannia, where the ring was still. Within the gate where the ranger, the daemon, and the sword had gone, two scenes flashed across its surface.
The first: Deep within a forest, a female wood elf labored hard and created a life. The baby smiled up at his mother and a light, so pure and magnificent, was awakened deep within his eyes.
The second: Deep within the swamps, a troll shaman lay on her back, screaming in agony as her babe ripped its way out of the womb. When it finally emerged, the shaman was dead and the baby stood up. Its skin was the darkest of night, and its eyes smoldered red as fire.
Deep below the tower of the fortress Krekk had called his own, a ring exploded upwards, outwards, and downwards. The ground ruptured a fissure so large, magma came rushing up and destroyed the bodies of the ranger Mess and the daemon Krekk, sealing the tower as their tomb for eternity. The army Krekk had left defending his fortress, some one thousand strong, ran for their life as the ground erupted beneath their feet. Smoke and ash exploded upward, and the ground of the entire continent shook as a pillar of smoke rose into the air, higher than any mountain. The pillar of smoke, shaped by the southerly winds of the northern ocean, took on the appearance of a unicorn then floated south.
Miles away, a horse of uncanny intelligence, called Redemption by some, lowerd his front hooves into what some would say was a bow, then shed a tear for a friend lost.
***
