“From this day Golarian marches toward pain and division. The Shadow has yet to darken to its blackest, and I cannot see if the Light will come after. Where the world has wept one tear, it will weep thousands.”

Entry Ω, Book of the Prophecy of the Dragon Reborn

On the Third Month, 14th Day, 1592 year of Al’Thor, the companions were asleep in the forest, resting from their labors. Curled up in a glorious ball, the great Trajan(a) Al’Thor was nestled in a bed of pine needles and leaves, topped by a sumptuous blanket of mink fur. All around, the trees, even the sky looked down in awe, amazed by the glory of even h(is/er) sleeping. The small animals of the forest gathered as close as they dared, hoping to hear even the smallest hint of a whisper of Trajan(a)‘s blessed sleep. Suddenly, the sky darkened and the trees shivered to their roots. Overhead, the clouds gathered ominously, covering up the stars and threatening with rain. A horrible feeling surrounded the area, brought on by the approaching evil, and only held back by the glory that was Trajan(a). Horror upon horror, the watchman elected for the night had lapsed upon his duty. Tolixan lay sprawled across a tree, snoring away, completely unaware of the impending doom. Even from h(is/er) sleep, the great Trajan(n) Al’Thor sensed the approach of evil, stirring from h(is/er) sleep to meet it. (S)he sprang awake instantly, eyes bright, ready to face whatever was to come. Suddenly, a spell was cast across the clearing, a spell of slumber. Trajan(a) laughed softly as the spell, pathetically useless against h(er/is) powerful will, further reinforced the sleep of the other companions. For a moment, an eerie quiet lay over the glade, the calm before the storm. But it was not to last, for soon wave after wave of enemy creatures began pouring into the area. The clouds above Trajan(a) cracked with lightning, pouring rain drenching everything and making the ground treacherous beneath h(is/er) feet. But Trajan(a) stood firm, a slight smile across h(er/is) face, as (s)he awaited the onslaught. A horde of enemy trolls came dashing across the glade, swinging clubs and rusty swords at the sleeping companions. Trajan(a) held up her hand, casting a spell of impenetrable shielding around them. The trolls screeched in rage, charging the powerful sorcerer. Radiating with power, Trajan(a) launched wave after wave of magic missiles with unerring accuracy. They smashed into the oncoming trolls, dealing lethal damage like never seen before. It blasted back the trolls, breaking bone and armor alike. Their dead corpses crumpled to the ground, completely devoid of life. But the forces of evil were not satisfied, they surged ever on.

Supplementing the ranks of the trolls, goblins, dark elves, and mites joined the attack. Alternating fireballs and rays of frost from both hands, Trajan(a) fought against the rising tide of enemies. And what of the sleeping companions? All lay sleeping as comfortably as a babe, their dreams of sunshine and flowers, except one. Phuralq began to stir from under the protective shield, slowly opening its eyes. It gasped in horror as it saw the gaping maw of a werewolf but an inch from her face, killed by the blunt trauma of a magic missile. It struggled to push off the werewolf, climbing out from under the shield. The dark elf archers, seeing an opportunity to inflict mortal wound launched a flight of burning arrows toward the helpless Phuralq. Phuralq screamed in fear, seeing its impending doom. It tried to run, to manifest, to dodge, but it was of no use, for Phuralq’s will could not save. Amid the crackle of thunder and din of battle, Trajan(a) heard the helpless scream of Phuralq, and turned, casting a spell of protective mage armor around the helpless Phuralq. But in that moment, h(is/er) concentration was broken. Trajan(a) was stabbed through the back with the spiked stinger of a giant scorpion and lifted into the air. Off to the side, the leader of this endeavor, an arch demon of the 9th degree surveyed the carnage, gloating on his victory.

But it was not to be, for in this moment, Trajan(a) opened h(is/er) mind completely, all pain, sadness, and concious thought washed away. In that moment, Trajan(a) transcended from matter into energy, ascending into a higher plane of existence. Lightning struck the ground around the glade, arcing between the trees and filling the air with thunder. Trajan(a)‘s body dissolved into pure energy, spilling from the spike of the scorpion. The arch demon looked on in surprise, quickly turning to fear. All around, the companions awakened from their slumber, the spell upon them broken by the energy within the air. Phuralq collapsed to the ground, gasping in shock. Stehlen looked on in awe. Tollixan looked up in surprise, then around at the corpses. Suddenly, he remembered his lapse of responsibility, and ran screaming naked into the woods, ashamed by his failure. The energy began to coalesce, forming once again into the glowing shape of a human woman. The ascended form of Trajan(a) Al’Thor, floating just above the ground, looked around, a sad smile upon h(is/er) face. With a thought, (s)he unleashed an explosion as powerful as that of a naquada enhanced nuclear bomb, vaporizing every enemy within a 50 mile radius. A second later, in a burst of energy, Tollixan appeared, summoned from his mad run through the woods. Trajan(a) looked around at h(er/is) friends, and uttered those fateful words, this is but the beginning.

Entry 4, A Memory of Light as recounted by Byzalte von Dreygur

And (s)he shall break it with a rod of iron, and it shall fall to its knees before h(im/er).

Entry Epsilon, Book of the Prophecy of the Dragon Reborn

Once upon a time, several animate objects set out on an epic quest. One, in particular, the great Traja(n) Al’Thor was particularly awesome. When (s)he was born, the sun stood still in awe, and the universe shifted to orbit his glory. As (s)he grew, h(is/er) magical powers expanded exponentially, becoming greater and more powerful. One day, (s)he stretched forth h(is/er) hand, casting that which is the Magic Missile. On that day, (s)he said unto the world, “I am become death” and the world was afraid. For (s)he is the Dragon Reborn, the slayer of Giants, and the Bringer of Rain. When (s)he walks upon the ground, it trembles before h(im/er). When (s)he walks the skies, lightning and thunder herald h(is/er) presence, and all are amazed. For the awe and everlasting glory of the great Traja(n) Al’Thor is without equal, all of the land is at h(is/er) mercy.

Entry 1, A Memory of Light as recounted by Byzalte von Dreygur

Darkwave Tales: Kingmaker

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