The Tempest

"Beauteous Ardea, from sea to sea

From every rock and every tree

Did once, as one, a terror flee..."

-The Town: Poncoe. On the East End of Ardea. Population: 2000-

Not every town on Poryphyrion welcomed the Star Festival. The chaos of the previous year, with the Star People bringing all sorts of demons with them, had only increased Poncoe's rancor and xenophobia. Between a poor crop yield and many animals falling ill, the hooded stranger basically only had to show up to get attention and do nothing before the village, carefully stoked to madness, came after him en masse, some even wielding pitchforks and torches...

"His shadow fell across its breadth

Powers dark and cursed, eldreth

His name: Anubis, the god of death!"

-The City: Sylphlaw. The Southwest of Bardon. Population: 24,000. Established nearly 700 years ago. Ruling Family: The Krovii, current ruler King Kroelus the IX-

Some cities were neutral over the Star Festival. It was fascinating, but it came and went, like a beautiful sunrise, or a bountiful fishing year. Kingdoms still needed to survive in the normal days, against the normal problems. Against the likes of Pozzo.

That had been what had caught King Kroelus' attention. What had happened to Orvance, how a strange man named Pozzo had taken advantage of the destruction the wicked star people had wrought to worm his way in, to whisper in the rulers' ear. Kroelus knew what that could mean, and he would make damn sure the bad options would not come to pass for his people. His soldiers were traditional, but they were fierce, and no blacksmith on this world could work armor better than his. And so Kroelus stood, watching his cavalry and infantry be trained, hundreds of them, the finest, bravest sous of his kingdom...

And one stranger. In a cloak.

"His armies razed across the land

Against such wrath, no mortal band

Could stay the fearsome jackal's hand..."

-The Town: Ariass. Thirty Miles North of the Drunken Gryphon. Population: 7,000-

Some towns, of course, celebrated the Star Festival with all they had. It was a chance to acquire wonders, to see things unlike anything on the land, to hear tales, taste food, sample things that would never come around in life again. And of course, for the Star People, it was one heck of a vacation. One they'd been assured they would be safe during.

The third man in the cloak drew no attention, as he walked through the fair, heading for its center... 

"A tide of power, a consuming wave

Ardea could never hope to stave

To claim our land, leave it, a grave..."

One of the villagers of Poncoe was lucky: his torch came down on the man they were chasing at exactly the right angle, catching his cloak on fire.

All it did was make him stop running.

"I tire of this mockery!"

The cloak hit the ground.

And the screaming began.

"But aid did come, from other halls

This will not be! Their hands, did scawl

From star, they fell. The god, did fall."

"Who are you?" The knight said. Guard duty was a bum one, but considering all the training his liege lord had been putting them through, one he'd well take. He barely registered the cloaked man's size; he was surrounded by dozens of his fellows.

Then the man looked up, and the knight saw what lay beyond.

"...by the GODS-!"

"...By Kobber hands, his life was taken..."

"Do I have to?"

Only the cloaked figure heard the voice that commanded him.

"If such waste is what you wish..."

And suddenly, the cloaked form went from nigh invisible to anything but, like he'd somehow turned off his presence before then. As he raised his arms, one Fabien Reyer, hailing from France and on vacation with his brother, happened to look up from his leg of mutton.

"...Que diable est-ce, une partie du spectacle ...?"

"By Haruspex, his might...awakens!"

From hell. He was from hell, wielding blades of fire, and he was everywhere, laughing, and no matter where they fled he was there, his blades claiming them, their bodies coming apart like dolls, smoking bloodless wounds in his wake...

----

So much metal. Armor. Weapons. Tools.

All turned against them, rendering them weaker than children, like wheat before a scythe, a bellowing beast tearing into them where the storm of steel did not, and in his last moments, Kroelus knew despair few men would ever be cursed to know...

----

The light came, and they fell. They ran, and it found them, and they fell. They screamed, and it fell on deaf ears. Sometimes a memory entered him, even as the power arched and crashed down through the festival, yet he remained where he was, the electrical storm expanding ever outward, claiming everything in its path.

----

From their cauldron, the three watched.

"Such a waste of good souls."

"Waste is what we need now. Sacrifice pawns to claim a king." Mireya said. It had begun.

"Gather, heroes...sound the drums.

The Thunder Kings come

The Thunder Kings come..."