That damned barbaric adventurer! He stole my bed and ate all my food - and not once had he said thank you, Torheng thought to himself as he stormed around his cabin to gather supplies. He had been forced to sleep at his desk again while Arcius took claim to his bedroom. The man even had the audacity to complain that the bed was too low and the wood had rotted! Torheng wished to ensure that Arcius wouldn't return to him, and planned to take him to Grauknok's hall himself. The night prior, he had attempted to give Arcius detailed instructions to the dwarven kingdom, but the man appeared to have no sense of direction and poor listening skills. The mage could only wonder how many times the Goddess of Luck had taken Arcius's fate into her own hands.
The apothecary could also pick up some new herbs and materials when he arrived at Grauknok's hall. That was reason enough to persuade himself further to go with the adventurer. Though, he didn't think that they'd be of much use considering his potions became little gnomes, which he did not wish for an army of. The unfortunate creature he did have obtained the name of 'Dwarf' from Arcius, as he was still convinced it was a small-scale dwarf. He had called the creature a dwarf so consistently that Torheng often stumbled over his words, calling it Dwarf as well. Therefore giving the gnome the name Dwarf. Despite his failures, he would still make an effort to perfect his practice.
The tall adventurer burst from the bedroom, dressed and full of energy. He had a large bag swung over his shoulder, it appearing more bulging than it had been the day before. "Let's go, wizard! I'd been told that Grauknok's hall be havin' a festival soon enough! Missin' it would be of the greatest misfortunes!" He exclaimed loudly, the ringing of colliding bottles sounding out from his bag as he walked.
Just how much of my pantry did he empty, Torheng thought to himself. A sigh ever so full of dread pushed past his thin lips as he scooped up his own, much lighter bag, to take along for the road. From the bag pocket peered out the little gnome, Dwarf. It was in no way part of their plans to bring Dwarf along, but the small creature didn't appear to care if they approved or not. He felt as though he had to attend the journey with Torheng.
Arcius forcefully pushed the door open wide and proudly glided out onto the dirt road leading around and down the mountain. Torheng tiredly closed the door behind him, locking it and tucking away the key.
"Pray Horeusa, might I not wish to strike this man down - or have him lead me to my demise." The wizard breathed.
***
Hazy smoke turned the gentle blue sky to gray, ash flying about in the relentless wind. Trees were no longer green, but streaked with black charcoal. Their lifeless branches carrying bright orange flames until it became unbearable and they snapped, falling into the sea of flames below them. Flaming arrows struck the foliage that wasn't already painted with the violent fire, adding to the malicious dance. Within the inflamed trees was a grand city. In its center was a large stature of a woman holding up an elegantly carved, marble sun, her figure nearly one hundred feet tall. Her elegance and glory was unmatched, the amount of worshipers were great, but her being was surrounded by fire and the crypt beneath her grand statue was invaded by dark spirits. Surrounded by blackened smoke, skeletal undead with bones as black as coal, eyes as red as the fire around them, invaded the forest. The city of Sharan'en, that of the Sun Elves, was destined to fall today.
They craved an artifact, Shenran's Sun itself! It was held deep below in her crypt, protected only by supernatural force strengthened by mumbled worships. However, the blood of clergy had been spilt. The walls of Shenran's crypt were stained red. No longer were words of praise and reverent worship spilling from their lips, but rather warm blood.
The creatures held blackened swords, rigid and old, but its strike still as deadly as that of a tiger's. They left none in their path alive, no creature of the forest would be allowed escape. Fire consumed every branch and mortal carcass on the forest floor, trees toppled as the scorching burns struck deep into their core. They entered Her Lady's crypt, fighting off any spirit of all the good in the world, tainting them with blackened pitch. They ran rampant, searching for Shenran's Sun. With nothing to prevent the gain of the Sun, they could easily do so. Lady Shenran's powers were weakened. Darkness had taken the city, and they would soon steal the life of the world.
Deep within the crypt upon an elegantly carved, silver pedestal, levitated Shenran's sun. It was a smaller orb, compressed with power. It resembled the sun to exact detail and warmth. The brightest of lights poured from it, not to be dimmed by the dark smog seeping into its home. Soon, the blackened undead entered the Sun's room within the crypt. They were blinded by the light, but knew their goal and withstood its glory.
Inaudible grumbles and groans fell from the stiffened jaw of one of the creatures. He appeared to be of greater status as he carried a spear of tungsten metal and armor all the same. Blood stained tassels of hair stood tall from his helmet - whether of horse or man to be unknown. The creature pointed to one of the others, then to Shenran's sun. Its red eyes flickered with honor and pride, that it might get to handle the sun. Eagerly, it approached the beaming light. Only its shadow could be seen as it let out an unholy cry and turned to dust. Not even the darkest night could extinguish its light.
A loud cry came from the leader. It was not one of mourning or dismay, but rather it served as a command. The other skeletal creatures soon marched to surround the light, standing a safe distance from it. And they began to chant.
"Haekaje hfeal irade Ifer, garevan rhalr tenebris… Haekaje hfeal irade Ifer, garevan rhalr tenebris…" Their voices echoed in a supernatural nature, black smog pouring from their mouths. The temple shook, the walls groaned. Shenran's sun faded, disappearing as though it had never existed, and the ground caved in.
***
Within the burning trees was a young elven girl, fleeing from the city of Sharan'en. She had survived! She knew she had to survive, to tell, or the world would fall! The demon, Ifer, would return to reclaim his throne.
To the Dwarvish City! To Grauknok's Hall! All must know of Shenran's fall.