War of the Realms

Planning Ahead
RAVENSVILLE, DEATHHAVEN, UMBRA

Shadespine watched from the balcony of Gloomfort, counting the stars in the ink black sky of Umbra. The realm was the darkest of all the realms in the Sephirius Galaxy. The trees were dead throughout the year and the roads were cracked, the buildings broken. The Gloomfort was the worst building there was in Umbra.

Shadespine was the God of Umbra, The Lord of Darkness and despair. He who had taken the current form of a Necron Warrior, who were his guardians.He had created the realm many aeons ago. That had been a long time ago. It was good to be resurrected. It was good to be home.

Shadespine wasn't just whiling away time watching the stars, he was preparing a strategy. He needed this strategy desperately. For there was a war coming soon. He heard approaching footsteps and turned round to see his most trusted guardian. Commander Blackthorn joined him in the balcony. The commander was a man not to be trifled with. Standing eight feet tall with arms as wide as sledgehammers, Blackthorn gave the creeps to many people in Ravensville. But the god knew his men. 'Your Eminence, everything is happening according to our plan. We just have to wait for Sir Grimskull's troops to appear. And we all know that Sir Grimskull is a man of his words. All we need is patience, your Eminence.' It was true. Sir Grimskull was a noble knight and was the commander of King Duncan's army. After Duncan's fall, and as he had no heir to take his throne, Grimskull was acting as the king in legal issues and there was no one who objected it. But no one knew that the knight was just a puppet controlled by the guardians.

Shadespine gazed at the crowd in the streets which were clogged by filthy water. Umbra was a realm in which no one trusted one another. But things would soon change, if things went according to the plan. He smiled to himself. He just had to be patient...

GLOSS GROVE, MYNAX, ENCHANTICA

The wanderer turned another corner. He'd been doing this for two days, walking around the woods of Gloss Grove, looking for the artifact that had created his Goddess. He reached a clearing. The atmosphere was thick with mist and the lake was almost invisible beneath it. A figure appeared in the mist. The mist parted briefly, as the tramp walked towards him. 'Who're ya? What da ya want? I-I ain't no nothing....', .the person from the mist started. The wanderer was genuinely surprised to see another wanderer in the forest, this one the real one. The fake wanderer cocked his head and examined the poor wanderer. 'Where is the sceptre?', he asked. The real wanderer looked wildly at the fake one. 'Sceptre? Never heard 'bout sceptres.' 'Tell me, or die by my sword!' Before the real wanderer could reply, the fake one saw the sceptre hidden beneath a pile of leaves. 'That's mine, mister', cried the wanderer.'My shiny stick!' The fake one lashed out with his legs and the wanderer fell back howling in pain. He grabbed the sceptre and managed a faint smile. His mistress would be pleased if she knew about this. She needed it for the War. Harris Beckham watched the unconscious wanderer for a moment and then left the forest, thinking about his reward.

RIME TOWER, GLACIERHAVEN, FERNEA

The cold was unimaginable. It was nothing new in Fernea. Fernea was supposed to be the coldest realm in the Sephirius Galaxy.

The man trudged along the ice-covered path. He was flanked by his personal bodyguards, The Frostbringers. Elysius Strakos was the champion of the warriors. The legendary warrior had traversed all of Fernea to seek his Goddess. The time had come.