Thread: Grimoire of Myths

Autumn Storm The people had reached the highest power that we had ever known. The line of warrior queens had led us to glory for generations. No true threats had emerged to challenge our power, and the people had begun to believe that their power had grown unassailable. It was in that time of arrogance that we began to believe that the power of the Dark Lands had faded, and we would no longer be forced to bear the weight of it's containment. But it was within this time that one of the most devastating threats did emerge... Those who watched the borders of the Dark Lands had grown attuned to it, able to sense and feel the wax and wane of the power within. And they began to feel a swelling of power, unlike anything in living memory. And to their surprise, a lone figure emerged, clothed in the form of one of the people. Knowing better than to trust such a form, but knowing well the story-songs of creatures from the Dark Lands that had shown nobility, they were reluctant to cut down such a creature without knowing it's intent. Cautiously advancing to see what intent the creature had, one of the watchers too note of the ground beneath the feet of the creature. The grasses had withered and began to die. Shouting a warning, he besought his comrades to fall back. But with his shouted warning, the creature raised it's arms, and from it swept a wave of fire. All that the fire touched withered and rot, men falling to nothing in seconds. Fired arrows decayed before touching the flesh of the creature, and thrown axes turned to brittle rust. Not knowing how to face such a creature, the Watchers fell away, calling for the fastest among them to carry warning to all around them. It seemed that the Dark had found a new way to face the people. The grey fire did not slow, it became a swirling tempest, a storm of rot and decay that ravaged the lands around them. Forces were sent to face them down, but nothing survived getting with a hundred feet. And with each death, it seemed that the distance the grey fire swathed grew larger. the people began to fall into despair, for what could be done to a creature such as this? The Autumn Storm seemed invincible, and would scour the lands of all traces of the people. THe people did what they had not done in generations. They called to the Higher Powers for a champion to save them. No answer came to them. Believing them forsaken and helpless, the people began to try and discover where they might flee to. But there were some who began to plan a way to strike down this foe. For they had looked on it's path, and knew where the foe did aim. They aimed at the First Fire. The loss of the beacon could well shroud the land in a second darkness, and the people would likely not survive such a thing for long. And so a band did set out across the plains, intending to cut off the Storm, and bring it to heel. Amongst them stood a Song-Sage, and a warrior, and it was upon these two the hopes of a people did rest. The Autumn Storm saw the waiting forms, and advanced. Each step was measured and light, and the grey fire swirled soundlessly around the creature. The warrior came forward, armed with naught be their hands, and the Song-Sage began to sing. Rot assailed the warrior, flesh beginning to blacken from the flames, but then the song did sink in. Healing rushed through the warrior, combating the rot, not stopping it, for the song lacked that raw force, but it was keeping it at bay. The Autumn Storm gaped in awe as the warrior came on. Fists hammering in, the warrior began to assault the Storm, and each blow faltered the waves of fire, but each blow sent rotted skin flying. The warrior was falling to pieces from the assault, but the plan was still in force. Bringing the Storm to it's knees, the warrior began to try and choke the life from the creature. The grey fire faded, and the others in the band loosed arrows from afar. The shafts struck the Storm in the chest, driving for the heart. As the Autumn Storm began to fade, the warrior released the neck of the beast, and staggered to their feet. Their body was wasted and damaged, and not even the song of healing could mend the damage. The life of the warrior was over. They would not survive long with the damage that had been wrought, but they died with a clean conscience, having bought the opening that was needed to stop this storm. The band buried the warrior there, their soul sang to the afterlife. But the people still sing the song of the Autumn Storm, that we may remember that vigilence is always required from the peopel. Else we shall be surely lost.