Midnight - Chapter 44 - the Legate & Dragon

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when last we left...

The former Mirror-Tender[1] Diero Pessiogn, has finally drug his way back from the brink of death to begin a bloody hunt that would both serve his hate and the Corpse God's will. After "recreating" his Erenlander form into a mongrel amalgamation, he has searched and tortured his way to find you pathwalker banes.

Reared alongside Kyuad, Diero strove to one day be a great legate, and studied the religious beliefs and practices of the Shadow, while his friend was focused on studying the knowledge of the living form and how it works. Back then, they were friends. It is in these days they meet again now in this Last Age as enemies.

The Legate has struck some unknown transaction with one of the few surviving dragons of Aryth - a great sooty obsidian dragon called Anaximath, Vanguard of the Southern [Pellurian] Shore . To chase the pathwalkers, the Mirror Master and one of his sycophants have made a great sacrifice of flesh to travel the Grey Realm through the mirrors, something known only to the "Masters of the Zordrafin Corith". Seeping out of the EYE OF THE SHADOW the unholy duo broke the seal of the temple, walking out of the prison of Gasterfang - a "guest" of the Master in the North. Riding south to intercept, Anaximath made rendezvous and swept them up into the heavens.

Now, not more than a quarter mile from the place where you just put down your Sarcosan "friend" - a childhood friend's hatered, fueled on by the pain his friends have caused charge your position. And from out of the sky, "his" ARMY lands - surely more greatly empowered by the words of faith...


"You blind fools refuse to accept responsibility for the things you've done. You will not PLAY god and then wash your hands of the things you have created, the seeds you have sown. Sooner or later the day comes when you can't hide from the things that you've done anymore. I bring that day! I bring heartache and pain. I bring the word of GOD!" -- the Mirror-Tender taunts.

KRA-KOOM!!!

The frosted sod beneath you heals quakes, the landscape cracks open at the sale and clawed hammer of the black lizard's landfall. Onyx-Emerald foam drips from between vardatch-like teeth. This is your death... It has finally come. Tonight you will rest.


Notes[edit]

[1] He was slated to be the master legate at a new mirror being formed in Festrun, following his inauguration with Vrolk - Bill