Kalem stood among the crowd of workers, warriors, and craftsmen, their faces lit with a mix of grim determination and nervous energy. His weapons were securely strapped to his back—an axe and longsword crossed over his shoulders, a standard sword and flail at his waist, and a spear in his hand. His focus core, embedded in the chest plate he had crafted himself, glowed faintly, a steady reminder of the strength he had built for this moment.
The tension in the air was suffocating as the ninth hour approached. Conversations fell to hushed whispers, and the clanging of tools ceased. Then, it happened.
The mountains surrounding the valley roared to life, their jagged peaks pulsating with molten light, as though a heart of fire beat deep within. A low, menacing growl rippled through the ground, sending vibrations through Kalem's boots. The crowd collectively froze, eyes widening as the first explosive eruption tore through the sky.
The summits of the volcanoes exploded in fury, spewing incandescent rocks and torrents of molten lava high into the air. The force of the blast rattled the Ironworks, and Kalem instinctively braced himself against the shockwave. A towering column of ash surged upward, darkening the skies as it spread out in a colossal plume, crackling with streaks of lightning. The ominous glow of molten magma reflected in the swirling clouds, casting an eerie, reddish hue over the valley.
A cacophony of terrified gasps and urgent shouts erupted from the gathered crowd. The once-still air now carried the acrid tang of sulfur and ash, burning Kalem's throat with every breath.
As rivers of lava began to cascade down the mountains, a new terror emerged from within the fiery flows. The ground quaked violently, and massive fissures split open across the valley floor. From these glowing chasms came the unmistakable forms of the lava worms—serpentine beasts of molten rock and blistering heat.
The first worm reared its segmented body from a pool of lava, its surface glowing like freshly forged steel. It was massive, its length disappearing into the fissures below, and its movement was an unsettling blend of fluidity and weight. Crimson and orange veins of magma coursed through its rock-like exterior, pulsing with a heat so intense it warped the air around it.
The jagged, ridged head of the creature was crowned with molten eyes, their fiery gaze piercing through the thick, smoky air. The worm let out a guttural roar, a sound that was both a physical vibration and a primal declaration of dominance. Around it, more of its kind surfaced, their movements stirring the lava flows into waves that surged across the valley floor.
Kalem stared in awe and horror. He had heard tales of these creatures—stories told in hushed tones over campfires—but seeing them in the flesh was something else entirely. The size, the heat, the sheer destructive power—they were living embodiments of the chaos the Augury had foretold.
The skies above were now an unrelenting black, the sun obscured by the choking ash. Lightning danced through the clouds, illuminating the landscape in brief, staccato bursts. Every strike revealed a scene of increasing chaos: lava carving new rivers through the valley, the Ironworks bustling with people scrambling to adapt to the rapidly changing terrain, and the looming forms of the lava worms moving ever closer.
Vornar's voice cut through the din, steady and commanding. "To your stations! Protect the forges, secure the weapons, and stay clear of the fissures!"
Kalem gripped his spear tightly, his eyes scanning the horizon. The weight of his weapons felt heavier than usual, but he welcomed it—it grounded him.
"Kalem!" Tharic called, his voice strained but focused. "Get to the northern perimeter. If those worms reach the supply stores, we're done for!"
Nodding, Kalem broke into a run, weaving through the chaos of the Ironworks. Around him, workers and warriors scrambled to fortify defenses, their faces set with grim determination.
Reaching the northern perimeter, Kalem found a small group of warriors already engaging a worm that had ventured too close. Its molten body burned through makeshift barriers, and its roars reverberated through the valley like thunder.
Kalem hesitated for only a moment before joining the fray. His spear struck true, piercing a joint in the worm's glowing segments. The creature recoiled, a wave of blistering heat radiating from the wound. Kalem pulled back quickly, his focus core flaring with energy to shield him from the worst of the heat.
"Keep it distracted!" one of the warriors shouted. "We need more time to prepare the traps!"
Kalem nodded, moving with practiced precision as he switched to his longsword. The blade felt like an extension of his arm as he struck again, this time aiming for the worm's molten eyes. Around him, the defenders worked in tandem, their coordination a testament to the training and camaraderie built in the Ironworks.
After what felt like hours, the worm finally retreated, its wounded body disappearing back into the fissures. The group stood in tense silence, their breaths heavy as they watched for signs of another attack.
Kalem wiped sweat and soot from his brow, his heart still racing. This was only the beginning—the first wave of a storm that would test every ounce of his strength and resolve.
As he turned back toward the Ironworks, the darkened skies loomed overhead, a constant reminder of the battles yet to come. The Season of Fire had truly begun.