Events post #313: The Second War of Night, Part VII: The Dauntless Host of the Akkari

7/31/2022 at 0:27
The Second War of Night, Part VII: The Dauntless Host of the Akkari

As dawn on the 10th day of Severin touched the sky with the makings of its radiant glow, it quickly became clear that more than the sunrise alone would cast its blazing touch across the awakening firmament. Twin beams of effulgent flame pierced through the daystar's bore to streak violently towards the ground, eventually colliding with the earth directly before the shining gates of Enorian.

Adventurers from across the land soon converged upon the Raphaelan Highway, bringing together residents of the frozen north, Duirani Councillors, and even Imperial citizens to join the Beacon's investigation party. All present gawked at the two figures who had alighted, one an Ogre, the other a Rajamala, both surrounded in an aura of sacred light. Awkward silence lingered before the Ogre woman, a magnificently strong and bold figure, stepped forward, bellowing "EXARCH! SHOW YOURSELF, HAND OF IL'AHJI!" for all to hear. While her Rajamalan companion stood grimly at the woman's side, his mistrust for those pushing in all around clear in his thoughts, she waited for Aban - for that was who she called out to - to arrive on the scene.

The Exarch arrived with sweat beading on his brow, sprinting in to meet his companions. With eyes for none but those gleaming figures of light, he came to a stop before both with a stark expression on his face. There they stood for a tense moment, Ogre towering over Rajamalan, who in turn loomed above the human, each individual betraying nothing of whatever thoughts might lie within. Finally, in a voice growing suddenly warm with familiarity, the woman declares, "You're getting old, Exarch." Sombre attitudes vanishing, the newly arrived man and woman both wasted little time in engaging warmly with their old friend.

Introductions came swiftly, the taciturn Rajamala stirring from his thoughts of loathing and revulsion of 'darkweavers' as he put it, to make himself known as Berrad, Exarch of the Naarak. The Ogress offered her name more openly; known as Saebi, she introduced herself as the Blood of the Dosan sect, and conversation soon turned towards more pressing matters. Aban invited his fellow Exarchs into Enorian, where they reconvened away from prying eyes at the Temple of the Gods.

Perplexed by how they could afford to be here, away from the battle fronts on Rewh'va, Aban hastily enquired into the purpose of their visit. With little pleasure in their voices, Saebi and Berrad recounted how all but one of the Shadow's generals had withdrawn from the breaches and rifts elsewere, leaving only one - Ozeroth, the Firstborn - behind to hold the Shadow's line alone. Names were exchanged that were unfamiliar to the onlookers, including Saglozol, Agrimarha, Igrech, and Sanaz, presumably the monikers of other Shadow Generals that the three Exarchs knew well - to their great chagrin.

Berrad, infused with passionate zeal and holy fervour, stated the obvious: they were aware the Primals, as he called them, were under attack, and that they would now have twelve Generals to fight. "Eleven," came Aban's quick correction, recanting the fall of Ati to Abhorash, the Progenitor. Happiness at Ati's death soon yielded to rage at what had prevailed over it -- unaware with vampires, learning of their existence only roused the Exarch to greater righteous indignation.

Preliminary enquiries were made as to what the Primals were doing to prepare for war, followed by further discussion on the Shadow, the imminent dangers, and more. Berrad informed Aban that the Host of Akkari were assembling and would soon be arriving on Prime to lend their aid on the field, while Saebi informed the Primals that the Dauntless Host were bringing them a problem - a problem they were to solve. Remaining coy when questioned, Saebi suggested they relocate to more open ground to make room for the army's imminent arrival.

To the Garden of Dawn they went then, and the three Exarchs worked as one to open a blazing bright portal, visions of geometric cities, perfectly ordered landscapes, and ruins flickering in and out of view as it anchored itself in place. Akkari soldiers soon poured in through the portal, thousands of troops drawn from the Dosan, the Naraak, and Il'ahji swiftly arranging themselves in tight, patterned formations. As the last of the Host filed through, the problem that Primals would have to solve soon became clear.

Flanked on either side by an elite honour guard, a cage of spirit was brought forth from Rewh'va, thick and shimmering webs of woven light holding an animalistic captive. Battered, bruised, and weakened by injuries uncountable the figure's identity was at first obscured. Then, as He lifted His head to regard the gawking crowd with disdain even in captivity, Severn the Manipulator had returned to the Prime, brought forth as the Akkari's prisoner.

With grudging respect, Exarch Saebi recounted how they had captured Severn near the breach to Spirit, and that He had fought - and was still fighting - shadowspawn up until the moments of his captivity. Under the eye of the Angelic Triad, judgement was passed: the Manipulator was a criminal of the Prime, and the question of His fate fell with the Primals, specifically those of Enorian.

As the horns of Holy War between Haern, the Hunter and Ivoln, the Earthen Lord sounded out, a suspenseful quiet overtook Enorian for a moment as the gravity of the decision facing Sryaen and his Heralds struck home...

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 16th of Severin, in the year 504 MA.
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