Fatebinder’s Edict of Storms

**Fatebinder’s Edict of Storms** is a random encounter in *Tales from the Tiers*.

## Transcript

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The wind slows your journey, pressing against you with the strength of a river's flow. Clouds churn the sky above, turbid with the arcane energies of your Edict of Storms.

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Howling gusts tear through the canyons and rusted spines of the Blade Grave, carrying clouds of grit down the long trenches gouged by the incessant winds' erosion. You can't help but compare your work to the Overlord's... and Kyros' Edict of Storms felt far more hostile. You almost feel welcomed by this swirling chaos, as if it is a part of you made manifest and inflicted upon the world.

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Lightning leaps between the clouds above, illumination flashing across the flooded plains stretched out before you. The deluge of rain has fallen unceasingly since you issued the Edict of Storms upon Haven, and the rivers escaped their banks. Grass and grains bend and break below the falling water, and the roads have been transmuted into a winding muddy mire.

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The sun's light filters green through the billowing gases above you, and the rain that falls is thick with acrid chemicals that hiss upon striking stone. The drops have spattered the heavy cloak you wear for protection with bleached white splotches. A stench like Beast urine burns your nostrils.

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The winds carry vast fogs of dry dust across the uneven surface of the Stone Sea, even as it shrieks between the great earthen spars. It drives the sand and grit into your features, suffusing you until you're not sure where your cracked skin ends and the parched land begins.

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The valley of Vendrien's Well is a well-watered bowl, the unending deluge of your Edict of Storms flooding the Matani and the Irenev. Lightning rends the sky, and thunder echoes in your ribs. The roads through old Apex have been rendered little more than a barely-traversable quagmire.

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Before you, you make out a bustle of activity at a nearby building, a squat and isolated farmhouse of plastered stone.

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Investigate further.

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Avoid it.

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Help pack.

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Deciding against involving yourself with whatever is occurring, you press on through the storm of your own making.

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As you approach, you make out the ruins of a lonely farmhouse, the wood over the windows blackened with corrosion. A half-solid ooze rings the house, remnants of plaster that has sloughed off under the rain's onslaught. In front of the home, the ostensible homesteaders have set up a thick hide overhang to protect the cart that they're filling with their paltry belongings.

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As you approach the building, you see a family of Tiers peasants battling the elements in hurried desperation. They have secured their door and windows against the worst of the storm, but the wind has torn half the roof from the structure, and they work desperately to repair it.

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Extol your greatness.

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Leave.

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Help with repairs.

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You leave the peasants to their labors and continue on your journey.

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You stride forward and shout to the peasants, declaring the storm a great and terrible working called by your voice to strike down the iniquitous. They quiver in fear, eyes wide with horror.
You leave the peasants to their labors and continue on your journey.

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You join the homesteaders, startling them with your approach, and they draw knives and pitchforks. When they realize you're there to assist, they nod grimly and pass you belongings to add to the cart. Your presence under the canopy seems to ward off the worst of the storm, and the work goes quickly.

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The peasants thank you vociferously, and you continue on your journey.

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You stride forward, startling the peasants, but when they realize you're assisting them, they gratefully provide you tools and materials. The storm seems to hamper your efforts less than theirs and you finish patching the roof quickly.

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Continue...

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Continue...

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Continue...

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The wind slows your journey, pressing against you with the strength of a river's flow. Clouds churn the sky above, turbid with the arcane energies of your Edict of Storms.

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Continue...

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```
The wind slows your journey, pressing against you with the strength of a river's flow. Clouds churn the sky above, turbid with the arcane energies of your Edict of Storms.

```

```
Continue...

```

```
The wind slows your journey, pressing against you with the strength of a river's flow. Clouds churn the sky above, turbid with the arcane energies of your Edict of Storms.

```

```
Continue...

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```
The wind slows your journey, pressing against you with the strength of a river's flow. Clouds churn the sky above, turbid with the arcane energies of your Edict of Storms.

```

```
Continue...

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