Epilogue: The Aetherium Cataract

"Epilogue: The Aetherium Cataract" is episode 78 of SuperQuest Saga and the final episode of the series. The back half of the episode is the final SuperTalk Saga.

## Synopsis

### Sebastian Crenshaw

Our scene opens on a vast sea of red desert sand. This is not the rusty red dunes caused by the oxidation of iron in the soil countless planets of the galaxy exhibit. No, the Blood Plains of Kaebooros are a sand sea of crimson red; and stark against the sweeping hellscape is a sky of everlasting black night, despite the glaring scarlet sun of Nessus bearing down from above.

At a glance this scene seems completely void of life; but as we look closer, movement can be seen on the horizon. From a distance, what appears to be a winding black snake miles long, slithering torturously slow across the waste can be detected by the keen eye. And as we move closer the details of this cyclopian serpent coalesce and the individual cages of a slave caravan become clear. Cages of black iron, 15-ft tall and 30-ft wide, hundreds of them hitched and chained to each other and all conveyed forward by a mechanized infernal engine at its forefront. Within the cages are the dark shades of countless souls.

The misery begotten damned, claimed by the Princes of Hell, stare lifelessly through the bars of their confinement. To those close enough to hear, the whispers of their anguish carry on the wind; but more to their misfortune the only ones who can hear them are the marching chain devils who oversee their confinement. And if pity were ever a thing a fiend could feel, these sadistic and cruel jailers killed that emotion inside themselves long ago.

Atop the infernal engine, perched upon a throne of ebon steel draped in finery and silk, sits a gruesome and squat devil. Its disproportionately large and elongated bald head are hosting pig-like eyes, a pug nose, and a mouth full of jagged teeth. In juxtaposition, the fiendish conductor’s adorned in fine robes and regalia fit for a king. His name is Elat Bal, and he is known as The Enchainer. His caravan delivers the souls of the damned directly to Lord Saturos himself; and he always delivers.

*“How much longer until we reach the city?”
“Not much longer, My Liege, a few hours at most.”
“Excellent. Ahead of schedule then.”*

Elat Bal presses some buttons in a console embedded in his throne’s left arm. With a hiss, a hatch at his feet opens, revealing the interior of the Hell Engine below him. Inside, four hunched over slave imps, covered in coal dust and grime, toil at levers and furnaces. Elat Bal lifts with his right hand a whip lined with metal barbs and begins to lash the laborers.

*“Faster! I desire to have ample time with Impusa at the Ultimate Sin.”*

The imps begin to work in a faster flurry and the hatch closes at a button press from Elat Bal. The foul enchainer then looks over at the chain devil on his left.

*“I won’t miss this opportunity. She gives the most exquisite tongue baths, mmmm.”*

Before the chain devil can react, there is a sudden flash of light ahead of the caravan. It blinds the devils for a split second and as their vision clears they see a bizarre sight. On red desert sand a man in silver and blue armor kneels upon a glyph of evaporating mist. With a rush of marching feet, a battalion of chain devils position themselves between the newcomer and their liege. The armored knight stands and his horned helm lifts as he looks up from his genuflection. His visage is not of a man or fiend but that of a long lost people. Sebastian Crenshaw, half-orc paladin, stands before an infernal phalanx of chain devils armed with black assault lasers all pointed at him.

Without saying a word, Sebastian begins to walk towards the chain devils. They warn him to stop but he continues to walk towards them without concern. They raise their guns and open fire; Sebastian casually raises his shield to deflect the incoming fire, all while walking towards them. Once he gets close enough, in a flash of light, he unleashes a flurry of sword attacks and shield bashes taking down the chain devils with more precision and quickness than has ever been seen before from Sebastian. As Seb clears past the bodies, he stares directly at Elat Bal and continues towards him, walking a little faster, without taking his eyes off Elat.

The bodies of chain devils litter the ground as their blood soaks into the aptly named desert sands. Elat Bal stands atop his engine with his mouth agape before the slaughter that just played out before him. He lifts a trembling hand wielding a scepter, as if to cast a spell or issue a command. Then – suddenly – he leaps off the engine and breaks into a hobbling sprint away from Sebastian. Incomprehensible shrieks, possibly pleading for mercy, issue from his maw.

Sebastian shakes his head and yells.

*“Running will just make this worse!”*

 With a streak of light, Sebastian appears next to Elat.

Elat Bal falls to his knees.

*“Please! Please! I’m begging you! Spare me! I’ll give you anything, whatever you want! Money, connections, succubi! Just don’t kill me!”*
*“Which one?”*
*“W-what? What?”*

*“Which cage?”*
*“That’s what you’re here for?!”*
*“I said which cage!”*
*“Okay, okay…my apologies. Pleas– Please just don’t kill me. It’s– It’s a private stockade, only one like it, no windows or bars, fully enclosed, the fifty-fifth cage in the column.”*

Seb binds Elat’s hands and feet then gags him with a cloth so he can’t speak.

*“Mgrruffrrmmr!”*
*“Yeah, that’s right. Don’t talk. Shut up.”*

 Seb walks Elat to the front of the train and sits him down. He tells Elat:
*“Don’t move.”*

Sebastian begins marching along the now still cavalcade; he can hear the moans of despair issuing from the shades, their eyes following him as he passes. He casually opens a few doors here and there. When he gets to the last one, he gives the shades inside a nice look.

*"There’s a little surprise for you at the front of the train. Feel free to do what you must.”*

 The shades don’t react at first but, as Sebastian continues down the cavalcade, he can hear their soft footsteps as they exit the cage slowly.

Cage after cage Sebastian passes until he finally reaches the fifty-fifth: a cube of black iron, 10-ft by 10-ft, engraved with the images of chains and skulls. On its side is a tall, rectangular vault door with a jagged spoke wheel for a latch. The wheel resists at first but gives way to Sebastian’s strength. The door creaks open. Stepping inside, it takes Sebastian’s eyes a moment to adjust to the extremely dim interior. The cage is completely bare of features, nothing but smooth, black iron for walls, floor, and ceiling; but huddled in the corner, nearly invisible except for its two gleaming eyes, is a shade.

The shade looks at Sebastian for a moment, an intense gaze, and then it turns away, eyes boring into the floor. This shade is indistinguishable from all the others in their cages but Sebastian can feel it; it is him.

*“Davarax, I…”*

 Sebastian’s voice falters as he is at a loss for what to say.

*“Tell me. In that final moment before you drove that knife into my heart, you whispered something into my ear in a tongue that I didn’t understand. Tell me. Tell me what you said.”*

Sebastian takes a deep breath.

*“I said: forgive me for what I must do. This path that I am on is the only way for us to save the galaxy. I then told you a warrior’s prayer from my time. A warrior’s death is not the end but just the beginning as you now will fight to earn your rightful place in the afterlife.”*
*“And was that the truth of it or merely an excuse to justify your methods?”*
*“It was the truth. I swear it!”*
*“And did you? Save the galaxy that is?”*
*“We did.”*
*“Truly?”*
*“Yes, though it does not absolve me from what I have done, we saved the galaxy from total destruction."*

A moment of silence passes between the two. Then Davarax speaks again.

*“Good. And what now?”*
*“If you will come with me, there is someone I would like you to meet.”*

The shade stares at Sebastian intently for a long moment, suspicion and curiosity shine in equal measure in its eyes. Then, slowly, the shade of Commander Davarax reaches out a hand towards Sebastian. Sebastian takes it and lifts the old soldier’s soul to its feet. Immediately there is a change. Coming into contact with Sebastian’s newly begotten divinity has an effect on the shade who, though still continuing to be composed of shadow without detail, takes on the vague form of a dragonborn male in heavy armor. Davarax looks down at himself for a moment and then makes eye contact with Sebastian.

Sebastian gives Davarax a reassuring nod and then, in a flash, the two disappear leaving behind only the icy glow of a glyph on the floor where they stood: the symbol of the Celestial Dragon.

### Persephone Goldpetal

A young firbolg woman floats in meditation against the ethereal glow of the spiritual realm; or, at least, a being with the appearance of a young firbolg woman, though she isn’t precisely just that anymore, drifts through the endless sea of spiritual spheres that shine with the light of all living things in the galaxy. To a passive observer, though there are few who would be able to spy on her in this place, the floating young woman would appear as she is thus presented; but were said observer to tilt their head in ever such a way, or to catch a glimpse of her from the corner of their eye, they would see much more. A great, iridescent, spectral bird of prey unlike any living creature in existence: glorious, terrifying, fierce, and loving.

Persephone Goldpetal and The Galactic Spirit are one and the same now. This comes with its perks; for example, she can step to and from the spiritual realm on a whim now. Anywhere there is life, Persephone is and, thus, she can appear physically. And she has used this ability of hers extremely altruistically for the passing months; tending to the wounded in the aftermath of war across countless planets, nurturing the wildlife of wars devastated by destruction, and guiding her fellow Singers from their former enslavement to new worlds where they can flourish.

This includes the world of Arcadia with Rohorn and his fellow druids but also includes a new world, a world they are now calling Elysium. A world where a new community of firbolgs grows by the day, free from the shackles of subjugation and free to build a society of their choosing. Persephone has taken to teaching these nascent communities the old ways; the ways of wood, and stone, and water. They have abandoned their old name of Singers and have come to adopt the name of Gardeners again as their own. And some have even taken on the lost tradition of nomadic travel, seeking new places and people in need, teaching those who will listen of the old ways.

Already the legends have begun to spread across the stars of an alabaster maiden who rides on the wind and shines like light. She brings healing, and solace, and warmth; flowers bloom where she walks and her laughter is like music to the ears. The Lady Goldpetal, She of Splendor and Grace, The Celestial Mother. She is known by many names now. And, here and now, Persephone continues her mission using her new connection with all living things to find where her influence will do the most good. In her meditation she searches; and as she searches, her mind wanders. She knows that this won’t last forever, her self-awareness. It might take centuries, or even millennia but, eventually, she will complete her merger with the Galactic Spirit. She will cease to be herself for a time and then, eventually, her soul will be reborn as all souls are.

Suddenly, something stirs Persephone from her meditative musings: a soul on a far-flung planet, a quiet, peaceful world that somehow managed to avoid most of what they are now calling the Great Sol-Novian War. She does not know why but she feels drawn to this soul in an inexplicable manner. Trusting that the galaxy will provide, Persephone steps out of the spiritual realm and onto a grass field on this far-flung world. The warm light of a golden sun radiates upon her. Up on a nearby hill, a cozy cottage sits snug within a grove of swaying willow-like trees. The soul that draws her own like a lodestone seems to lie within.

Persephone approaches the cottage with curiosity. A gust of wind conveys the rich scent of herbs and flowers along with the mineral scent of soil. An elderly halfling woman is working in the cottage garden, her back is turned to Persephone. Percy has never met this woman in her life but this is her: the one who she feels called to.

Persephone walks up and says:

*“Uh, Ex-excuse me?”*

The woman looks up from her work in surprise.

*“Oh! Oh my. I wasn’t expecting anyone today.”*

She turns and sees Percy.

*“What brings you out here today?”*

She squints hard for a moment.

*“You don’t look unwell… Why, you look as far the opposite of unwell as can be! Is it family? What’s wrong with them? Speak up, young one! What symptoms are they exhibiting?”*

Persephone is a bit taken aback.

*“Oh, no, no, no! Don’t worry. I’m– you know I don’t really– I don’t need anything. I was just wondering, do you maybe need anything? Are you okay?”*
*“You’re not trying to sell me something, are you? Not trying to take advantage of an elderly woman out here on her own?”*
*“No, of course not. I would not dream of it, you know, I was just passing by and felt like maybe-”*
*“Hahaha. Relax, dear, relax. I’m just pulling your leg. Us old folks have to find laughs where we can get ‘em. You don’t look like a salesman and I don’t get the impression you’re here to rob me either. Well, if you aren’t here to buy remedies then the least you can do is lend an old lady a hand or a back if you got it. I can pay you with some lunch. Some tea? My lifelong, worldly wisdom if you have the wits to receive it.”*
*“Yeah, of course! What are you working on? You’re tending your garden?”*
*“Yes, I’m tending the garden that helps heal the community that lives nearby. What’s your name, girl?”*
*“Persephone.”*

She looks a little surprised when she hears Persephone’s name.

*“That’s… a lovely name. Well they call me Mother Ceres but you can just call me Ceres. Let’s get to it!”*
*"It’s a pleasure to meet you.”*
*“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”*

With that, the two get to work. Together the two water the garden, trellis the faster growing plants, and manage the compost. They pull the weeds, prune the wilder growths, and repot what needs repotting. They harvest what’s ready and organize the tools. And after a few hours of work in the sun, the work’s complete. Ceres wipes the sweat from her brow with a sigh. She looks at Persephone approvingly, and nods.

*“Did I say tea earlier? What I meant was some ice cold lemonade. Thanks for your help, darling, come inside and wash up. I’ll get us something to eat.”*
*"Oh yeah, some lemonade sounds great.”*

Inside it is as cozy as the quaint exterior of the cottage entails. Things here are sized primarily for a halfling but Percy doesn’t feel too stifled. Entering the home of Ceres, she is awash with a familiar scent: sage and clover. A memory tickles the back of Percy’s mind for a moment before vanishing. After washing up, Percy hears Ceres’ voice from outside.

*“I’m out front, sweetness!”*

Percy finds Ceres in a rocking chair on her front porch; a pitcher of iced lemonade, cups, and a stack of cut sandwiches on a platter beside her.

*“Sweetness… I-I haven’t called anyone that since, well, not since my little baby sister was still a tot! I don’t know why that slipped out, I’m sorry if that was too forward. Please, eat! You’ve earned it.”*
*“No, it’s alright. I’ve definitely been called far worse things in my life.”*

The two enjoy their food in a silence that isn’t awkward but content, enjoying each other’s company.

*“Can… Can I tell you something, Percy?”*
*“Yeah, of course!”*
*“You seem familiar to me. Have we met before?”*
*“You know, I was thinking the same thing while we were working today but I don’t think so. It is funny… like we always meet people at the right time.”*
*“I don’t know why but I feel like I have this feeling as if I’ve known you my whole life. I must really be getting old. You know, I never had children- not that I didn’t want them exactly, it just never happened for me. I’m okay with that, really I am. It’s so strange. When I was younger I always dreamed I had a daughter. A wee little thing full of joy and laughter. It felt so real and I…  was happy. I remember I would cry when I woke up to find it wasn’t real. Silly, really. Those dreams faded as I grew older I-”*

Ceres suddenly stops, blushing.

*“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this! I’m not normally this comfortable around strangers. Please, tell me something about yourself so I can stop yammering.”*
*"Uh, shoot. What is there to tell about me? I’m a wanderer, you know, just kind of go from place to place, I guess. It seems you’re a healer; I’m somewhat of a healer myself.”*
*“I got that sense from you. You handled yourself around the garden as if it was not your first time. I appreciate your help, again.”*
*“Yeah, of course! Any time.”*

The two talk for some time. As a matter of fact they talk so long, that night begins to fall. Ceres begins to nod off in her rocking chair but before she does, she whispers to Percy.

*“Percy, dear, thank you for visiting me today. I know it sounds so strange but I would really enjoy it if you’d continue to visit me whenever you could. Would you do that for me?”*
*“Yeah, of course! I’d love to, for as long as you want, as many times.”*

Ceres smiles. As she begins to nod, off she whispers.

*“Thank you, sweetness.”*

Percy stares at the elderly halfling woman rocking and sleeping gently. She finally understands why she had felt drawn here so. Percy had never known her birth mother; she had had the chance for that taken from her. But here and now was a chance to change that in a more peculiar fashion than most: because all souls, when they pass from this life, rejoin with the Galactic Spirit; and all souls, eventually, are reborn.

### Arcadion Galanthur, Codename: Echo

*“Come in, Scouting Team. How are we looking?”*
*“There’s a blind spot on Level 2 - Area C. We can use that for entry just like you and The Logician said.”*
*“Sensors detect four guard units. Sending over their exact positions now!”*
*“Good, good. Infiltration Unit, are you in position?”*
*“Ugh. This is humiliating. Not only are we answering to a fleshy but there isn’t a single bounty on this entire ship worth our while. Our reputation as The Freelancers is at stake!”*
*“Aw don’t be like that, Armo. I’m gonna be honest, this is kind of fun. I like this pointy eared fellow.”*
*“Ugh. We are in position.”*
*“Excellent. I have your location noted. Log! Has the extraction point been routed?”*
*“Hm! Every action and counter-measure has been considered and accounted for. Probability for extraction and mission success falls within a 99% success rate. All operatives are cleared to move forward. And may I add, how dare you question my-”*
*“Perfect. The Ambuscade is with me.”*
*“I work better alone. I don’t agree with how we’re being utilized. There are too many of us on a single objective. We should be split up and sent out to collec-”*

*“Alright! That’s enough chatter. No more gripes. You all have your assignments and orders from me are as good as orders from The Guildmaster himself. The Imperial Elven Dominion is a dangerous regime, especially under the leadership of one such as Selunedar, Son of Melunedoc. He shall fall by my blade on this day and my people will suffer his tyranny no longer. I have Gil’s blessing to utilize The Freelancers as I see fit until his agreement with me reaches its conclusion.*
*I will ask one final time. Is everyone in position?”*

*“The Mystic, in position.”*
*“The Fury, in position.”*
*“The Armory, in position.”*
*“The Dynamo, in position.”*
*“The Logician, in position.”*
*“The Ambuscade, in position.”*

*“Ambuscade, hold me close; I am making a door. Oh, and one last thing, everyone! Don’t forget to keep an eye peeled for Space Satan.”*

—------------------------

To the Crew of *Victory’s Ascent*,

 It’s been some time since we all went our separate ways. I wanted to leave this message behind as a memento of our friendship. These are things I wish for you to always remember.

Meeting you changed my life in ways I could have never imagined. What we were able to do was incredible and I am proud to tell our story to generations yet to come. Your acceptance and loyalty to each other created a safe space for me to self reflect and heal. It was this that led me to reconnect with parts of myself I thought were lost and broken.

Know that we are never truly apart as our spirits shall breach the expanse of the galaxy and join as one. Remember that your pain is mine, just as your joy is mine. Should you ever find yourself in need of aid or perhaps just looking for a trustworthy soul to join you on a new great adventure, know that you can always call upon me and I shall answer.

Forever in your debt,
Arcadion Galanthur, Codename: Echo

P.S. Watch out for Space Satan

—------------------------

Message from Brian

To the Cast and Crew of SuperQuest Saga,

It was my deepest honor playing Dungeons and Dragons with all of you. Jake, Josh, William, thank you so much for all the memories, the hilarity, the excellent moments, and some of the best times I’ve ever had playing Dungeons and Dragons. And my infinite gratitude to all you listening out there.

See you on the next one.

—------------------------

### The Aetherium Cataract

Atop a plateau of white crystal stand nine pillars 1000-ft tall. Statues of gods long dead but whose divinity remain intact in physical form: Aetherium, once known as Godstone before its origins became lost to history. The most valued substance in the galaxy. It changed history, made faster-than-light travel possible, pushed technology to heights never before imagined, and powered an empire for a 100,000 year reign. And here in Kaddath, not just the pillars and city proper but the endless sea of forest stretching around it, rests more Aetherium than the galaxy has ever possessed by an uncounted factor.

The one called Primina stands at the foot of these nine pillars, gazing over the lost city; her city now. She’s changed again though in many ways remains the same young woman she had been. Standing now nearly 10-ft tall, Primina’s long, black hair cascades over four angelic wings arcing from her back. Her golden eyes shine with a divine radiance that illuminates all they gaze upon. Her blue-toned skin has taken on an almost metallic appearance, and a ghostly halo of iridescent light adorns her head like a crown.

The Aetherium released into the New Universe at the point of the Prime Event was intended to forge beings like Prim into existence. New Gods who, when the time came, could come together to do what their predecessors did and renew the seal, barring the Nameless One outside. But that was not how things came to pass. The utility of aether-power and discovery of FTL drives paired with the mad God Emperor Solastaren hoarding over 50% of the galaxy’s known supply prevented the rise of any such beings. Instead, a rag-tag team of adventurers had to step up and complete a job not meant for mortals; and, somehow, they pulled it off.

The Seal was renewed; but not without sacrifice. The Seal and Primina are now one, and she can no longer leave this place. By fusing her consciousness with The Seal and the power she had been able to restore its power. Better yet, having now become a living, sentient, deific entity, The Seal is stronger than it was: more flexible, and adaptable. Primina feels the outer entity pushing against The Seal, attempting to strain it, to break it. Feeling the presence of the Nameless One in the back of her mind, Primina shivers; but The Seal stands strong.

Primina stands in quiet consideration. She needs to make a decision. She turns to gaze upon her two guardians. One is new to her, though true of heart and valor. The other is one of her oldest and dearest friends. Sebastian Crenshaw stands in honored reverence of her. He chose to stay and stand by his Oath now made stronger by her apotheosis. She will never be able to express how thankful she is that he chose to stay with her. The once paladin, now exarch, gives her a nod. A nod that communicates his full and utmost trust in her. Primina nods in return. Her decision made, she turns back to the city and raises her hands into the air.

She doesn’t know why the Old Gods held back so much from the New Universe. Perhaps they feared the whole of their power would be too volatile and dangerous; or perhaps they worried not enough would return together in this place to restore their work; but Primina would not be the one to repeat their mistake. Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed, the nine pillars begin to disintegrate. Starting at their highest points, the Aetherium begins to float upwards into the heavens. Then the same begins to happen to the spires of the city, and then the buildings and skyways, and, finally, the bridges and lower foundations. A million billion diamonds of ethereal light swirl around the plateau in an upward sweeping vortex. The sky lights brighter than a hundred suns, enough to blind the mortal eye were any mortal here to witness. Then, slowly, the light begins to fade and when, finally, the last of the Aetherium disappears, Primina falls to her knees, gasping.

*“It is done.”*

For the following months, people across the galaxy were shocked and awed by breathtaking auroras seen at all times across their worlds. During this time, every planet, moon, and star in the galaxy became surrounded by cascading, iridescent lights. None could explain the reason for the seemingly spontaneous phenomena but many deemed it a glorious omen marking the end of the war and the dawning of a new age. Others regarded it as an inauspicious harbinger of dark times to come. As the years passed and the mysterious auroras faded, it would become known as The Aetherium Cataract and it would single-handedly usher in a new age of space exploration and technological advancement; the first true galactic Aetherium rush in over 80,000 years.

A new class of spacefarer would be born in the crucible of this event: Starseekers, wayfarers who would come to spend their lives trekking along the endless stars in pursuit of fame and fortune. Some would champion them as paragons, braving danger in search of new worlds and resources. Others would come to malign them as nought but treasure hunting outlaws and aether pirates. But whether heroes or villains, these brave, free-spirited souls would pursue their dreams along starways most dared not travel. And in doing so, some would find their fortune.

### An Opportunity

In an enormous and luxuriously decorated hexagonal room, two individuals sit at a black lacquered table. The table, long and ornate, is designed to seat a great many people but there are only six chairs placed for seating. Each chair is crafted from exotic wood, fine velvet, and gilded thread. The two individuals occupy two such chairs, directly next to each other but poignantly ignoring the other’s existence.

The two look nothing alike despite being brothers. One is of a short and slight stature, his skin is the color and sheen of obsidian as is his hair and eyes. He wears a white three-piece suit with a red five-pointed star stitched into the pocket. The other is hulking and monstrous at first glance: at least 7-ft tall, skin the color of crimson, massive curved horns on his brow and a lipless mouth bearing razor sharp teeth. But this devil wears clothes as refined as his smaller brother; fine purple and lace adorn him, and if they are somewhat gaudy and garish, he has failed to notice. The silence between the two is tense and is carried for over an hour; but the smaller of the two breaks it.

*“How long are you going to hold this grudge, Saturos? You know if I hadn’t maneuvered against you and loosed that girl back into the galaxy we would all be dead right now.”*
*“I will hold it as long as I wish, Xaserbane! You deliberately entered into my realm and undermined our agreed-to contract. While in my realm you are to serve me and mine purpose as I am to do in yours.”*
*“Brother, you know I hold our agreement binding. I do and ever have served your purpose faithfully. The purebloods may make an art out of double-crossings on technicalities, and we have both learned much from them, but the reason you and I continue to best them time after time is the candor of our relationship and the loyalty therein.”*
*“Pfft. Loyalty! What do you know of loyalty?”*
*“I saved your life and Father agrees.”*
*"Well, both of you can–”*

There is a sudden burst of fire and shadow on the opposite side of the table from the brothers. Emerging from the minor inferno steps a 12-ft tall hulking devil with two long black horns and wings of fire and shadows. Adorned in sleeveless robes of red and gold, his muscular arms bear what appear to be fresh wounds. His face is devilishly handsome and framed with long dark hair. His eyes are red and he has the feet and legs of a hoofed beast.

*“Both of us can what, Saturos?”*

Both brothers bound to their feet and kneel, simultaneously intoning:

*“Father.”*
*“Father, I- mmm. Nothing.”*

*“I grow weary of your foolishness, my son. Forgive your brother and be done with it or be gone from this place. The hour is critical and I will not suffer your bickering now.”*

Saturos sighs heavily, and then, glowering, turns to his brother.

*“You are… forgiven.”*
*“Good. Now that that is out of the way, prepare yourself.”*
*“So they are coming?”*
*“Of course they are coming. I have called them. Do not make me regret allowing your presence here today.”*
*“Yes, Father.”*

The three stand in solemn silence for a few moments before a chill wind begins to fill the room.

*“They come.”*

Ice begins to coat the walls as on one side of the room a dark vertical slit in reality opens 15-ft tall and 5-ft wide. Stepping through is a fiend with a feminine form dressed in a black leather bodice hemmed in furs, with eyes, hair, and skin as white as snow. Two short and piercingly sharp blue horns crest her brow. Behind her trails a long and thin segmented tail ending in a vicious stinger. Her legs are that of an insect and her hands are long, spindly, and clawed.

Before the portal behind her fully closes, another portal opens on one of the unoccupied sides of the room. This one exudes noxious fumes of deadly poison and pollution. Stepping through is a figure clad in black plate armor bordered in dark green. The chair on this side actually begins to melt as this being emerges and all tabards and banners on the wall begin to disintegrate. The entity is as hulking and massive as Ramazall; it has a faceless head of mottled gray and green skin, save for two bulbous ovoid eyes.

And then a third portal opens from the remaining unoccupied side of the room. An empty void lies beyond, and all before the portal feel a deep pull towards it. The chair on this side is sucked away immediately and the long table begins to slide along the floor with a horrid screech. Stepping through is a black robed entity, slight of build and stature. A white mask hides its face but every few seconds a vile spider crawls across it or a worm falls from one of its orifices. Its outstretched arms reveal hands of skeletal bone and carrion bugs fester where it steps.

*“My fellow Princes of The Voidharrow, I bid you welcome. I will not bandy about with words of false niceties nor waste any of our time here with gratuitous ceremony. The God Emperor is dead! The Nova Kings now number only two, both of whom now hide licking their wounds. The Nameless One is bound once again and tighter than in any of our living memory. The nations are weakened from galactic-wide war, and The Harrow has gone nearly silent in activity. Never before has soul transport operated at nearly 100% efficiency.*

*I see before us an opportunity, and I bid thee to join me in its reaping.”*