Crestfallen Library: Night of the Vain - 698
January 27, 1977 Original Design
The
mage scrunched over the table, lit a candle with worn fingers and
blinked in the light. He had spent the last four months deciphering the
ancient broken text that had been found deep in the bowels of a dungeon,
name long forgotten. A Paladin had brought the text to the Library
originally, having felt its energy and knowing it contained something.
Finally, it was finished:
" The Black army filled
the horizon in both directions from the castle's highest lookout post.
For 10 days they had advanced, and now the citizens of Crestfallen saw
their doom clearly and plainly. War plans, drawn up over the course of
the last month would be tested this night.
In the midst of the slobbering mass, hidden behind a large group of
Giants a crude yet exacting circle etched into the dirt and mud began
to pulsate with a horrid green light. The dark ones, bound to their task
fell to the ground utterly exhausted by three day's of eldritch casting. As one, the entire army turned their heads and fell silent while in Mayna's Swamp, crickets began to chirp. Then their legs froze mid-song.
With an explosion of silvery light the circle crackled with energy, and a
storm of malachite colored stars formed up in the heavens. The stars
coalesced and dark smoke billowed upwards. Stepping forth through the
gate, tendrils of energy fell like rain off the demons skin. Wings
opened to their full length, while muscles twitched in what could only
be described as a symphony of misery. A ripple came from the obsidian
maw, a sneer so vile and filled with power that an orc near the massive
shape screamed and disappeared".
The next morning
an attendant knocked quietly on the door, and not hearing a reply went
in. He turned the corner to go into Allister's study, and tripped in the darkness. Cursing under his breath he rushed to the window and
pushed back the heavy drapes. The room was bathed in sunlight and then
he saw it. The body lay on the floor in the midst of a small pool of blood with one hand stretched outward. Scrawled on the floor were
three simple words.
Mygi has come
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