The Evening of the 25th - Firesday - The Streets of Alistair's Stand and Below

It was mid-afternoon, and the rain still had not stopped. If anything, it had gotten worse. Kendrick put his hand out from beneath the eaves and felt the rain batter down on his open palm.

*Still cold. Maybe colder.*

There really was nothing for it. Between the damned fog and this rain, there would be no more customers today. The halfling shrugged ruefully, and turned to go back inside. Maybe a mug of something warm and alcoholic would make him feel better. He was just stepping across the threshold when he felt it. A shudder.

*Definitely a tremor of some sort...an earthquake? There hasn't been an earthquake in...*

The ground began to shake beneath his feet with a force - he stumbled over the doorpost - inside, there was a crashing sound, and from all around him he could hear the sounds of other folk calling out in alarm. The ground shifted and he buckled, tumbling down to the ground.

*Yondalla save us! What do the Hells have for us now?*

After another shock, the rumbling began to subside, and as quickly as it had started, it was over. Kendrick stood, and called out to his brother inside, "Ho, everything alright in there?!"

The voice inside was quick with alarm: "Yeah, yeah! Just lost one of the new blue water-pots. Total waste of three dukes."

*Hm. Not much damage. So far.*

Kendrick turned and stared out the door, and saw that the rain had stopped. The fog was still present, but it seemed whiter...brighter, perhaps.

*What in the name of the Lost King was that...?*

"Have you called the Thane?"

"Aye sir, he's on his way."

"Good, good. Blast it, three tunnels have been plugged. Get more folk down there to help clear the way. And make sure the Tavern didn't collapse entirely."

"Yessir!"

The messenger sped away from Thrax. The dwarven Overseer tugged at his beard, and stared at the instruments on the table before him. A fairly shallow earthquake - not on a fault, but for all that quite powerful. A massive collapse, and from somewhere within 20 miles. He jotted down a note or two, and then turned back to the map.

*Perhaps a natural occurrence. Perhaps not. What does natural even mean in a place like this?*

There was a nervous cough from outside. Turning, Thrax found himself facing another messenger, a guard from the look of him - Odo. Thrax recalled his name.

"Well?"

"Sir, I've been told...that is to say, the guards at the gate...well, sir, they've heard..."

"Yes, yes, out with it!"

"Sir...they've heard...screaming, sir."

"Screaming? From where? From the blocked tunnels?"

"No, no sir. From beyond the gate. From...down. From where the lights are."

Thrax's eyebrows creased. "From beneath the bridge?"

"Aye sir. They opened the gates to check. No doubts. Many voices, screaming out from the darkness."

There was a short pause. Thrax stared at the instrument on the table, still reading from the earthquake.

"Thank you - that will be all."

"Yessir!" The guard departed quickly, and Thrax was left to himself.

*...screaming? From the city proper. It couldn't be...?*

*Domination. Power. Ecstasy. The Ever Clamoring Voices. The Harmony of Uninterrupted Noise. Peace in the Ocean of Divine Noise. Many Voices. One Word. One Speech. One Thought.*

*A sharp stab of pain. Discord. Other thoughts. Other... Another stab. Loss of Control. Another...and another...over...and over...Agony. Parts lost. An eighth...a ninth...The Scream.*

*Searing ice rushing through the mind - cold fire warping and clawing its way through thought. Agony...loss...*

*The One broken into Many.*

*Then, utter silence. Torment. Agony. Solitude. Helpless.*

*Alone.*

*Voices again. Slowly, fewer. Then more. Peace again.*

*The Nightmare of the Stoneborn - gone. The Chain - broken. Many lost beyond the Pale Mountains. Many Voices gone forever.*

*Void. And Death. They will not be added to the Ocean. They will be torn asunder. Vengeance.*

*The Stoneborn will pay. The New Ones will pay.*

*The Dark Star Will Have them.*