I don't quite recall when I snapped outta it, but the first thing I recalled was the sullen face of the peasant I had hired to guide the ships tiller. Bedraggled, he be, weak and sallow. I noticed bolts and arrows littering the railing beside him.

"M'lord," he whispered. "What vision took ye from me as the Pirates attacked?"

I noticed blood seeping from the wounds that would soon take him to the Abyss. I tried to answer... I struggled, kneeling on the deck, as the intensity of the storm increased. I pounded the planks with my clenched fists - through pain attempting to grant my mind some form of clarity.

Though I begged for mercy with all my prayer, the Spirit forced me to see, the ethereal rags of its deathrobe waving in the winds of time as I lay helpless at its feet... The visions took me again as the waves crashed into the ship and the gale howled about the boat. The tillermans dead eyes gazed vacantly at the bolt protruding from his chest...

"Tell them!"

The words screamed within my mind. The Gatekeeper shows no mercy. The message must be conveyed.

"Tell them!"

Darkness.

I saw the Towers of Stone. Paxlair. Orc ruins. A disturbance to the East. A great order of Knights. Paladins, the glow of Virtue surrounding them as if some Holy Radiance. A Man of Darkness. A bird? - it stepped from the shadows and took the form of a man. Its name was Legion. A traveller thrust his dagger into a tavern table, his sardonic grin fading into the last light as he vanished. A Warrior of many names, a protector. Sion! Sion! Do your bones finally rest as your mantle is taken by another?! The ritualistic chants continued from the east, as the Wargod demanded more blood to be burned in the fires of his risen altar. All about, citizens in turmoil, even as the screams of a newly born infant pierced the skies. A messenger from Casandreal. A missive of war - the Wraiths have risen again! Even as ever more citizens fled to the protection of the towns blessed grounds... may God Honor and keep them safe from all harm.

Death for a Dark Angel, a fitting Destiny.

Thy will be done, Gatekeeper. Thy will be done.

--Zog the Fishmonger, 10:36pm Eastern

return to index