Map of Aetheria [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1125992402985959512/1125994699455463474/Aetheria.jpg?ex=673eabc8&is=673d5a48&hm=51bc93a0844ff0056c4bb524e70c53d08caa9291d9a617254f6bd1421f210ea0&]
Angtal meditates in the temple of the world tree, patiently awaiting the next vision granted to them. They sit in silence, forgetting themselves, immersing themselves in their surroundings, becoming one with the world around them. They become unaware of the dirt beneath them, and the air that flows through the space. They become still, treading the line between the living and the dead.
The barrier between present and future shatters completely, leaving Angtal seeing events that are bound to happen in the future, whether they will come to pass soon or far off they do not know. They see the nation engaged in a war, bloodier than what has been seen since the time of the thousand year war. Bodies upon bodies are stacked high, enshrouded in darkness, only illuminated by faint torchlight, the sky being blacked out by some vague, malicious force that they cannot determine the origin of.
They flash forward, even further into the future, they watch as people starve, seeming to be naught but skin thinly draped over their skeletons. Famine plagues the land, in the distance they hear a great battle raging, accompanied by flashes of lightning and booms of thunder coming from a far off storm.
Being flung even further, things seem to be better, the sky bright once more, the sounds of war and the feeling of hunger only a distant memory. That is, until it all disappears. A great void, like a hole in reality, tears through the land, swallowing everyone and everything it touches until nothing is left but empty space. The darkness that remains presses around Angtal, crushing them, their breathing quickens, becoming more shallow as an oppressive feeling of fear presses on them from every direction. In the far off distance, they see something small, almost looking like a person, they try to get a better look, but are suddenly, jarringly thrown back into reality.
As they open their eyes, Angtal finds that they’ve been sweating, and have to brace themselves on all fours as they regain their bearings, breathing heavily. It was usually hard to come back to reality from their visions, but it had never been sickening. Once they can stand, they stumble over to their bookshelves, finding their various loosely compiled books of prophecy, and flip through the pages, each prophecy being vaguely dated, and they find something that horrifies them. None of their prophecies are dated past 5 years from now. The world as they know it will cease to be in 5 years. They rush out of their temple towards the city, the capital of the nation, Panatura, this information must be shared, no matter how much danger it puts them in. The end of days is coming.
“Of course I’m on scouting duty again, I’m sick of it!” A young-looking blond man spoke to nobody in particular, perched on a rooftop in the capital city. “The mark isn’t even meant to be here yet! They just want to get rid of me again…” he continues to complain, looking over the city, trying to find anything of note. He looks down into the alleyway between his building and the one next to it, a man stands there, not showing an inch of skin as he leans against a wall with a… is that a rifle?! “A spellslinger… But I thought…” the blond man whispers to himself, somewhat in awe, but more in surprise. He sees the “spellslinger” look up at him, hurriedly jumping to the other side of the roof he panics, hoping that he wasn’t seen.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The alleyway on the other side of the building similarly contains a man, he has a bladed weapon with a long hilt, a glaive strapped across his back, his hair seems to be made of fire. Unlike the spellslinger, this newcomer is too occupied to notice the man on the roof, speed walking out of the alley and into the wider square. The scout’s eyes follow him, curious about this individual as they snake their way through town, but he loses track of them as the sunlight reflects off of someone’s armour in the square, blinding him temporarily. He looks over to see where this flash of light is coming from, a man in extravagant armour, the mark of a noble from the nearby kingdom of Litoren. Finally he’s spotted something that could be a problem, as all Litorese noblemen are trained in swordplay from birth, if he’s a high-ranked noble he could prove to be an issue.
A loud cry of “Get back here!” is heard as a crowd moves suddenly, one lone man chasing after a small blur darting between their collective ankles that the scout can’t quite make out the shape of. The man pushing through the crowd shouts, “He’s got my gold! The little bugger stole my gold!” He cries before he is abruptly stopped in his place by a large man in armour bearing an insignia even the scout had never seen before. “Stop yourself, sir,” the larger man says, so quiet the scout has to strain his ears to hear him, “Is there no peaceful solution to this issue? All under Arlun’s light-” he’s interrupted, cut off by the other man, who pushes him aside in pursuit of the blur, “Damn your foreign god and his ‘peace,’ what even is an Arlun anyway?” He asks angrily before storming off, grumbling as he’s lost track of the blur.
“A tune, perhaps? To ease your sorrows.” A tiefling asks the preacher, bringing out a double-necked flute and starting to play softly as the general crowd that had assembled dispersed and went back to their usual business. One man stops to listen for a moment before making his way to a stall selling potion ingredients, he has goggles strapped across his head and potions at his side, his skin is as black as coal. “A travelling alchemist, that’ll be no problem for us.” The scout thinks to himself, though he does sense a strange energy around the square as a whole, the same energy he feels in their group’s main headquarters… No matter, he’s sure it’s nothing, he can probably just feel them from here.
Finally, the scout spots them, their mark, the prophet of the world tree. They’d been hunting them down for a while, but only today they’ve found them, which is odd, because their group had only come here because of a hunch from their leader. As always, he must’ve known something the rest of them didn’t. The scout picks up a rock, although not with their hands, levitating it, exercising his power over the Earth. The rock hangs there for a moment before being flung far out of town by an invisible force, “Finally! Let’s get out of here before the trouble starts, then my job’s over.” He hops between the rooftops, hurriedly making his way out of the town.
Another group, made up of 4 people, watches the city patiently from a hill nearby, their armour glints different colours in the midday sun. The stone thrown by the scout lands at their feet, One of them sighs impatiently, pushing up his scarlet red glasses as he speaks, "That’s the signal, the show has to start soon..."
The man standing at the head of the pack starts to step towards the town, no light reflecting off of his armour, despite him standing directly in the sunlight. "Don't worry," he tells the man wearing the glasses behind him, "I'll make sure to give you a show worth watching, just make sure you get your job done."
A third man, wearing a white cloak and mask gestures to the remaining two, and starts walking around to the other side of town, “You heard him.” He tells them simply, walking off in silence.
The sole woman of the group looks at him in disbelief before giving the man with glasses a look that read something along the lines of “Are you serious?” She asks him, “Does he really expect us to just follow him?” She sighs before starting off after him, “I really wish he’d say more, c’mon, let’s do this quick.”