Beneath the Dragoneye Moons

It was a quiet immortal that went the distance. Ones that didn’t stick their heads up high, that held themselves in reserve. That was careful of the enemies they made. That held something back.

When the situation called for it, they could move, and the whole world would listen.

From a lonely pyramid in the great desert sands of Ankhelt, Arachne whispered words into ears and set actions in motion. Like a great spider at the center of her web, she plucked a string and the vibrations traveled around the world. Movements in one place were spread like vibrations to another, setting off a chain of events around the world. Cause and effect. A [Courier] was sent to the Sentinel’s Headquarters with an urgent message. It was spread to all the Sentinels, who quickly divvied up the parts of Exterreri they could most rapidly reach, and shot out in all directions. Once there, they talked with Ranger teams, with the local guard, and from there, the message spread and propagated.

Like vibrations on a string.

The Pekari boiled out of every hole, out of every entrance. Cities suddenly discovered their walls were useless as the mechanical golems marched out of old basements and climbed out of wells.

These were not the clumsy, almost comical, raiders of villages. They didn’t move in obvious formations, they didn’t have predictable patterns. These were new, clearly upgraded golems, moving together in teams to clearing rooms, setting down overlapping fields of fire, and brutally taking over towns and cities.

The first obvious upgrade was that they spoke. It seemed like a taunt at first, and incited more people to fight them. The Pekari weren’t gentle in suppressing resistance.

The new sound upgrade was clearly rushed and not properly tested. The voice was rusty and warbling, the emitters sloppily welded on.

The Pekari spoke as one, and to the newly conquered peoples’ horror, surprise, and dismay, they seemed to be actually serious. It was no taunt, it was a command.

“Start praying, meatbags.”

They broke into homes, they raided businesses. And once satisfied that people were on their knees, praying to whatever god they chose, the Pekari would leave them alone.

With so many people praying desperately to the gods for aid against the sudden invaders, they fully expected a god to smite them down, or at least respond to their prayers.

But the gods were silent.

Not one prayer was answered.

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Amber was merrily strolling along the road when a little bird landed on her shoulder. She recognized the little bird - it was the result of one of the most useful skills she couldn’t bind in a gem, a long distance communication ability.

The bird offered her its leg, and Amber’s hands trembled as she untied the scroll. Her eye of appraisal was able to see a number on the scroll, and eighteen digits was far more than she thought was possible.

She went pale as she read it over, getting a quick summary of the events before the meat of the message.

… as you are the most experienced with the Fae, we entrust you with negotiating for any aid they may be willing to render. We recognize that it is unlikely you will succeed, and we would prefer no questionable meddling versus a clean solution. At the same time, we recognize that sacrifices might need to be made, and that a grand price might be requested.

You may freely negotiate on our behalf. Should Pallos live to see another sunrise, we will consider it well-spent.

Following the letter was a truly epic list of names, a list that Amber would’ve drooled over simply to be in the same room as, let alone carte blanche to freely negotiate on their behalf. No wonder the scroll was worth so much.

The entirety of the world’s wealth had just fallen in Amber’s lap, and yet, none of that would be terribly helpful with the fae. Not when they knew it was what she wanted.

No, they were right, she would have to be clever about this.

Amber stepped off the trail, spun in a circle, took three limping steps backwards while humming a tune, and there, like magic, was a mushroom ring.

Amber would never call herself friends with the fae, but she knew how their minds worked. She was able to follow the twists and the turns of their thinking, and lay her own traps and cleverness. Trying to get them to destroy Erebus would never work, nor would tasking them to protect Pallos have any results. But… what if she didn’t have them destroy Erebus? What if there was another way to make it work? She couldn’t be obvious about it.

Amber stepped through the mushroom ring, and a moment later was seated across from a Lord of the Fae. She tapped the end of the scroll three times on the table, and opened negotiations up after the usual round of pleasantries.

“Would you like to purchase a planet?”

Across the world, various gods manifested. Over the great temple in Lyon, over the grand pyramid of Augustine, on the ziggurats of Cuetzpaltepec, gods came down from the heavens. Different forms, difficult cultures, different domains, but all with the same message.

“Pray to us, in our hour of need.”

Humans, beastkin, and kobolds alike bowed, and prayed.

“The end is near!” [Doomsayer] Colin shouted. “The end is near!”

He rang his bell to punctuate his message on the church steps. Passersby, used to his antics, didn’t make eye contact and hustled along.

“The end is near!” Colin shouted again, once more with his bell.

He considered himself to be doing a great public service. Being a [Doomsayer] didn’t pay well, and it was reflected in his tattered clothes and skeletal frame. But it was an important job.

How could people not see the signs? How could they go through their lives so blissfully, ignorant of the impending cataclysm? The warnings were all there. Immortals were at each other’s throats. Resources were becoming scarcer. Armies were drilling and deploying more and more often.

It was all too clear to Colin, and he loved his fellow townspeople. It was his solemn duty to warn them.

“The end is near!” Colin shouted again.

[*ding!* [Doomsayer] leveled up! 133 -> 256].

Colin went cross-eyed at the announcement, entirely forgetting to ring his bell for a moment.

He’d just… he’d just gone the entire distance for his level on a single proclamation. That… that could only mean one thing.

Colin started to frantically ring his bell with every ounce of muscle in his wiry frame. He’d always kept his Sound skills down a bit, knowing right where the edge between ‘annoying but tolerated’ and ‘tarred, feathered, and exiled’ was.

Didn’t matter anymore, did it?

“The end is here! The end is here! THE END IS HERE!!!”