Geingurr Redstone.

Assistant Law Master of Deerchstal.

9th of Septara, 1492.

8:52 PM.

***

The Shadeforge was like a dark jester's performance compared to the grim circus that was these times, for I never would have believed the strange drow of the Nox who liberated us from that dark pit was a god among mortals. Others did, but not me. I had been one of the relative few to deny Amun's offer and leave the Shadeforge after our liberation. I assumed I'd never see Syele and Nyella again. And yet, my fate was now intertwined with Syele's once more. Or rather, it seemed my fate had been intertwined with Amun's.

I remember promising him many things back then. That I'd put in a good word with the king; which I did. That I'd try to form an alliance with his legions; and I did. I told him to seek me out in Deerchstal should he find himself in Kasia; and he somewhat did. Then we were invited to this event, only for the Headmaster to assimilate us into the Elven Devil's empire without our permission. Syele had been a constant since then. A godsend amidst this madness; ironic though that was to say. Though, her presence wasn't without discomfort. The woman I hardly knew was so strange compared to the priestess I was getting to know. It was almost as if she'd died. Which wasn't entirely wrong.

Being Amun's first priestess of Twilight was one thing. Being a holy Vampyr was something else entirely. And she was so brazen about it, precisely detailing what transpired when she left the Shadeforge, the formation of Amun's divine realm of Eotrom, of how she was turned, and everything since then, including Zimysta's fall and Shujen's fate.

Our initial meeting was punctuated with her invitation to meet the goblin the soldiers were going to kill when they encountered Amun and his drow cousin, yielding more discomfort. To be looked down on by a goblin was… infuriating, for Leary, the Faithful, stood as tall as a man. The disproportioned hands and feet of his kind had shrunk to more dexterous forms, yet the rat-like ears and yellow eyes remained, looming above us as he told us his plans for the goblins of Joim Rift. His home.

The saving grace was that in taking them, the goblins would be gone from the Kasian Empire. Yet it was overshadowed by the knowledge that they would become goblin paragons like Leary. Overshadowed, it remained until we made our next visit a few days later. I grew confused when Syele led us to the 3rd Legion's booth on the 7th of Septara. Sure, their nature was impressively industrious, but the Cogs had claimed the Bakewian Principality. Nevertheless, we entered a radically unfamiliar environment from the dreary gloom of the Plague's booth or the crowded booth in which we met Leary. It had a highly sensible- almost dwarven look, made of concrete and metal suffused with that deep blue glow mixed with a gray-blue radiance. The same glow seen on the temples of their Imperator. Yet, Edward Pascal was not who we went to see.

The soldiers, Weradal Bloodbone and Arangreas Stormspire grew visibly anxious when Syele requested Elsgril Silverforge. As did I, when I heard his thunderous steps approaching and turned to see the dwarf of legendary lineage. He was unlike any dwarf I'd ever seen, though; a mortal one, at least. Like the Forge Mother, his brown beard was exceptionally bushy and curly. He bore the Fire Mountain's horns like the helms of many soldiers, except his head was uncovered, his brown curls unburned by the glowing heat of their tips.

"Forge Mother's blessings." He bowed, palming his beard with hands as chiseled as the All-Smithy. "I am Elsgril Silverforge."

"We met Amun in Kasia, destroying goblins." Weradal began. "He stopped us from killing the one he now calls Leary, and mentioned you by name, stating he's not our enemy."

"You are truly from the legendary clan?" Arangreas added. "The heir, I presume?"

"Aye." Elsgril reluctantly sighed, masked though it was between Syele's inquiry.

Curious.

"The only dwarves with Silver in their clan name are those who have legendary strongholds, reaching to the Darkworld with no corruption or breaches." I explained to her. "Legend has it that the Silverforge was the first, back in Maru."

"So that's why the other dwarves look up to you." Syele snickered at him, then turned back to us. "They were rewarded with silver in the name? Not gold?" She asked.

"No." Elsgril shook his head. "It is named after the molten mithral rivers said to fall through the forge. Molten mithral appears silver."

"And to find mithral you have to dig into the Darkworld and not be besieged by the corrupting darkness and those born from it," Syele surmised, whistling low. "Legendary indeed."

"Aye." Elsgril sighed in that heavy way again. I could tell it was a subject he did not want breached. And yet… "It was lost when the portals appeared and Ulai was rendered inhospitable. Like Amazonia, it's still there. Waiting to be cleared of its infestation."

"You're the reason our gods look favorably upon him?" Sabeline asked, and Elsgril looked at her with a curious eye before gently shaking his head.

"No, Lore Master. The Marulean gods look favorably upon him because he too is a Marulean god. Our gods look favorably upon him because of his artificing prowess, and because he lets us praise them to our heart's content."

Not wanting to bother the so-called dwarven paragon, we let him be shortly after and returned to our accommodations. Weradal and Arangreas split away from us at once, presumably to report to the King, while me and Sabeline inscribed more formal reports; or tried to, for they were steadily altered by Syele's tales of the one who turned her into a Vampyr. The Twilight Empress and Amun's first cleric of twilight, Opal of the Blackblood.

Every face turned the moment she and her top brass entered, some scornful or worried and others hopeful or relieved. The monarchs of the Kasian Empire, at least. Those like the King's priest, Yazzet Godsbeard, maintained neutral expressions as he murmured subtle prayers to cast his divine gaze across the Plagues.

The first to enter was a half-orc with a more human appearance, despite her tusks competing with the elongated canines hanging from her upper jaw. Her skin was pale green, making a stark contrast with the emerald circlet glowing on her brow. At least, the parts of her skin that weren't covered by her heavy, almost statuesque armor. "Good evening." She bowed as stiffly as her title presumed. "I am Prime General Gulla Thon, of the Plagues."

"Boddy Boulderweight," the baritone voice of a deep gnome with a face of chiseled stone boomed over the rattling of bones and other morbid trinkets as he waddled in behind the general. A stark contrast from the fine suit of silks and the glowing sapphire in his belt buckle. "I am the Grave Keeper of the Plagues."

Likewise, the woman trailing her boasted a ruby necklace that gave her stern visage a somewhat fiendish tone. Yet everything else about her was… plain. She had lightly freckled tan skin, curly brown hair, and a motherly build that could've come from anywhere. But her voice was recognizable at once. "Noctis Marshal, Juliana Ataut." She declared in a Kasian accent as thick as that of Count Pas.

The last one was just as eye-catching as the first. Not because of any tusks or strangely hued skin, but tattoos. Tribal tattoos that suggested a Rharian heritage, yet slightly different, and with purple ink instead of the traditional brown. Not to mention the same crimson eyes as all the rest. "Prime Executor, Silvia Nuyi." She bowed. Standing to the side, she joined the others in clasping their hands before their chests and lowered their heads as the chief plague stepped into the room.

She was smaller than I imagined. Though, vampyr had no need to be large creatures. They only needed to be regal; and that, she was, despite wearing a finely made yet hardly boisterous tunic with quilted stitches and a metallic mantle. Her headdress was the sole exception. More like a tiara of radiant energy eclipsed by her head, making her moniker all the more believable.

"So you are the Twilight Empress." Bluszil, the hulking high orc wreathed in bones, leather, and hide, beamed from his throne of a seat, throwing his massive arms about his companions. "Mistress of the Brightest Night. A conqueror of Zimysta!"

"Opal of the Blackblood." She bowed her head. "Conditor Imperatoris of the Plagues of Chaos. If I may." She stood to her full height, then began pacing to the side with deliberate steps. "I'd like to suggest you all voice your objections or conditions as you give your introductions. We see no need to waste time with small talk or engage in roundabout speaking to spare another's feelings. Leave nothing unsaid, I implore you." She bowed again.

"Hmm." Bluszil groaned as he leaned forward, causing the grains of his throne to creak with the same tune of his barbaric lungs as he laughed with pride, throwing his arms to the lot of us. "This is the first time in ages that the monarchs of Kasia have been gathered! It's been so long our traditions have been lost to time, scattered into deviations like the vast lands between our kingdoms. It wasn't until the Rain Men of the Undying Night fought their way to my throne room until I was reminded. Kasia is the land of fighters!" he raised his trunk-like fist overhead with a bellow. "Kasia is the Bodhi Tree's realm of fighting; so it is the land of war! Our bellies were to be sustained by the Veekz Dependency, leaving Pas County and the Chalk Earldom to train the Bodhi Tree's young fighters in the training pits and battlefields. They were to take requests or spend coin in the Whitesmayne Kingdom to procure the arms and armor needed to carve their way through Stiol's Territory and march through my land to reach me, Bluszil, who rewards such valor with feasts and spoils. Kasia was the land where all of Bodhi's students could come to wage war against the goblins of Joim Rift, earning them the right to unwind in the ancient springs of Isik'iertu."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Pausing, Bluszil lowered his hands, and his proud smile fell from the weight of… sorrow. "Unfortunately, our kingdoms and counties grew more isolated. And while we kept fighting, that only deepened your pain. We understand dwarves grieve heavily, and rarely forgive." He looked at King Whitesmayne with a solemn expression that inflamed me, yet his smile returned with another unexpected thing. Hope. "In living as an empire within these many empires of the Nox, Kasia can continue being the land it was meant to be, and without grievance."

"Toril has already proposed honorable war games in the Ligin Kingdom. Doing so here shall be no issue." The vampyr remarked with the same level of amiable indifference I saw in Amun. But that was expected. Bluszil, however, was… unsettling. I'd encountered orcs of every kind before and had grown more than accustomed to them after my time in bondage, so I knew the stories they told about the stark differences between feral orcs and civil orcs and more, didn't view them in the same light as my Kasian kin. Even so, it was… unsettling. Such a grotesquely large form, hardly covered in hides and bone, speaking as elegantly as the King himself and with such… compassion; it was almost like the mixing of those two things was… offensive.

"I hope this can be an opportunity for us to make amends with each other, King Whitesmayne," Bluszil continued as he gazed at the king with those solemn eyes. "Even if it means we completely remove ourselves from the others' presence." Nodding after a short but meaningful pause, he turned to Opal. "I am Narkram Bluszil, Emperor of Kasia. The only condition I have is for the Rharian Kingdom to not join. Something I'm sure few here will object to."

"Neither will we." Opal giggled into her hand. "Of that, you have nothing to fear."

"Ulgragras Stiol," said Bluszil's lessor as he stood. While smaller and green, he was identical to the red orc in almost every way. Including the uncanny behavior. "As long as we can continue warring, I have no objections, but a condition. A request for the ones they call plagues, to clear a plague in our lands. A petrifying thing along the border of Chaulort, stretching to the coast."

Upon nodding, Opal shifted her gaze elsewhere for a moment before returning her gaze to the hulking orc. "Ladies Iris and Reina of the Elven Devil's Troupe have already accepted a request to address that very… thing."

Recoiling in surprise, Stiol returned to his recline alongside several of us. But I was hardly surprised. Even from the short time I knew him, I knew Amun to be more industrious than a hundred dwarves put together. Even without being a- the necromancer. It was only natural that his legions were too.

"Ahem."

Like mine, all eyes snapped toward the bald man who made such a needless noise, for many were already on their way to his gilded eyes and wise, patient expression. Yet it seemed the stories of Earl Preston Chalk were true. He was a whore for attention despite his birth into a noble military life and the 6 decades he lived through it. Or perhaps because of it. "Peace." He began with an airy chortle, making many of us groan and roll our eyes in protest. "Peace is both the ultimate goal and the biggest folly of every civilization. Civilization is most often built and sustained through war, yet too much can make monsters of those who rule, turning the ruled into the fighting oppressed, or sheepish cowards. Too little will make weaklings out of everyone. At peace and yet strong enough to maintain that peace with honor. That is the balance I strive for. While we will regain that with these wars of ours, the Chalk Earldom has been engaged in another war. That which we call the Red Plague. It has proven a formidable adversary."

"Witch Doctor Poiga is currently outside of Ekorkvish, investigating," said the… Grave Keeper, followed by a brief pause as he gazed into the distance similar to the Vampyr moments ago, returning his beady eyes to Chalk a few seconds later. "Her report shows its spread has halted just west of Ekorkvish and Honk, and a bit further west from Bleakwich. She will contact you regarding the details and plans going forward."

Following Stiol's act of surprise, the other skilled human of noble military heritage stood from his throne to address the room. In many ways, he was similar to Chalk, albeit half as young, but still intelligent, wise, charismatic, and demanding of attention. "Count Richard Pas." He bowed. "As the county being the home of the Bodhi Tree's fighters guild, I see it's only right that we remain true to our roots. Especially if it means we can expand our cities above and below. However, I do hope we can begin engaging in the war of nobility." He smiled, gesturing to his equals with an expectant aura.

"I have no interest in playing politics outside of what's necessary." Groaned a pale halfling with violet-black eyes and hair, dressed in a warrior's dress of gems and mithral strips. Countess Gaatha Butiarm. "My conditions are, first, for Butiarm County to stop pulling the Veekz Dependency's dead weight and, second, to stop carrying Kasia's economic burden. Our people will build a proper kingdom; if not an empire, caring for culture, not games; war or otherwise."

"The Veekz Dependency was named as such because Kasia was to depend on us for its agricultural needs. We are so far removed from the mainland that we require no protection." Baron Saba Veekz huffed. "We are the most peaceful land in Kasia and wish to remain as such. After learning of Shujen's underground farms and hot houses, I aspire for the same in my lands. Though, we'll have to dig around to find a dry spot. Or be placed in the sky." She gave Opal a pointed look with the words. Yet, Opal only nodded before turning to the king.

"I have no problem joining. So long as I continue having free rein of my kingdom, even if it grows into an empire. That means freedom of religion, safe access to mine the Darkworld, and a solution to our vagrant problem."

"Vagrant?" Opal tilted her head. To which, Sabeline stepped forth.

"Our prisons are overcrowded. We can hardly feed them, let alone house them."

"We can parse through your prisoners to see who is worthy of redemption." Opal nodded, then looked at me with an unsettling smile. "So, you are the dwarf I've heard so much about?"

"Geingurr Redstone." I said firmly, trying not to stare at her fangs. "Was freed from the Shadeforge alone with Syele. Can't say I'm surprised she's Amun's first priestess. But… a vampyr?"

"Most of the Plagues and the Black Plume are." She nodded, spreading her hands to those flanking her. "My family has grown quite large as a result. That doesn't mean any of you must become vampires, however. Nor does it mean we will prey on you. The God-Emperor provides."

"Good to know." I murmured.

"We understand you love war." Opal turned toward Bluszil. "We of the Legions see no difference between war and training. We can organize a few bouts to ensure we all stay strong, if you like. Besides, the Empire of Eotrom stretches from the Darkworld, where lawlessness coexists with order beneath the glory of Twilight; to the natural expanse of adventure and conquest that is the surface, overlooked by the arcane metropolises in the sky beneath the Moon. We are an exception, however. We plagues dwell in the Darkworld through and through, rarely operating in the skies above."

"So then Kasia will be the same." Bluszil grinned, crossing his massive arms. "Those civil folk who wish to let peace make them weak shall live meek lives in the Darkworld; in twilight." He leaned toward the humans as he sneered, then turned to me. "The legions have brought the bounty of spilled blood to Kasia's surface once again. That shall continue."

"Very well." Opal smiled, nodding. "Through centuries of war, Kasia's surface has been decimated, however. Through twilight, blood, or both, we can give the lands of Kasia a breath of… death." She grinned wickedly. "We can fill the surface with monsters. Undead. Plagues of the non-viral kind with which you can war against ad infinitum. And in twilight, the Kasian Darkworld shall know dawn. Your kingdoms shall become the first empires within my own and gain all the God-Emperor's knowledge and wealth. Once you and your people make their pledges, that is."

"It's not as if we can trump Bluszil's wishes. He is Kasia's emperor, after all." Count Pas sighed, acting as if he were bothered by the prospect. "However, I'd like to see these… dawn fields before we begin any city planning."

"That shan't be an issue." Boddy replied. "Edlen Chiselfinger, our Supreme ArcaTechist, has been overseeing the Darkworld's development since the God-Emperor learned of the Headmaster's decision. We can give you or your doppelgangers a tour and, later, portals can be constructed in or near your cities for ease of access. We can even construct perfect replicas of your cities below, if you wish."

"If that will be all." Bluszil sighed, erecting his massive frame from his throne. "I will return home to prepare for your arrival. When can I expect you?"

"Dawn." Opal bowed, smiling as if she told some type of joke before she shifted her crimson gaze across the rest of us. "The rest of you can expect me within the week. But of course, I'll send word in advance."

***

Opal.

***

At long last, our time of respite had ended along with this event and the politics that came. I could leave the Bodhi Tree for perhaps the last time and take our first true steps in this undying march. Though we would remain on the Bodhi Peninsula for quite some time. Regardless, Kasia was my land now - my first empire of empires; if only because the Headmaster thrust his dying lands onto our Eternal God-Emperor.

As I saw Amun do in Maru, I delegated those lands to my subordinates most suited to the task. Boddy's sentient sapphire - his Pious Patron - was like a spirit that lived in his mind, granting his body an enhanced constitution and giving his spirit telepathic, telekinetic, and empathic or charming abilities. With that and the limitless energy he held, he was assigned to Earl Chalk to organize quarantines and recovery efforts for the red plague by facilitating their transfer to the Darkworld, thereby clearing Edlen to transfer the Bodhi Tree's Fighting Guild to the Earldom's underground and have it renovated by the end of the year; sandwiched between an impenetrable fortress below and tumultuous wilds above.

As it were, those sentient crystals gave my marshal and general abilities as well. For Prime Noctis Marshal Ataut, it was a Mazer Matron. A stern but fair and dutiful being that gave her a deadly attack, intense emotional control, greater strength and constitution; and the means to project her emotions through an aura. So it was, she went with Count Pas to ensure he could play his game of politics by establishing a set of guidelines that would ensure their people would not suffer from their games, then oversaw the fair promotion of his aids into proper nobles and him into kingship before their domains were scattered throughout the underground and Darkworld.

While the dexterity and agility granted by Noctis General Thon's emerald launched her prowess beyond the rest of ours, it was also said to be charismatic and exceptionally intelligent, but above all else, neutral. Traits that would facilitate the negotiation and design of the grand empire Gaatha envisioned for her people; dedicated to the Owl. The Veekz Dependency was left to Prime Executor Nuyi, who was to use her Rharian heritage and the knowledge she gained from the God-Emperor to bring their farms underground, if only so they could continue their agricultural traditions and expand on them. Moreover, several druids accompanied her to spread the first Duskwoods in the region to create the first nature reserve.

With their efforts underway, I was free to spend my night in the First Sanctuary, standing before the great twilit tree to address my ever-growing flock and prepare for our grand future.

"The time for Eotrom and her Legions to begin our gargantuan endeavor is now; its work begins in earnest. As do the Plume's and this sanctuary, the first in the Mortal Plane." I spread my arms among the glory our Eternal God-Emperor created for us. Then the ambient dusk shifted, drawing countless motes into lines, curves, and shaded portions until a map of the Peninsula's Darkworld came into view; a flat sheet of compacted stone and adamantine stretching across the dark sky, save the Kasian pit that stretched to the Deep Dark.

"In two years, the Bodhi Peninsula will migrate to Maru with Eotrom and her Legions. Portions of the Darkworld will be taken from the other countries, but all the Darkworld will be taken from Kasia, down to the Deep Dark. But this sanctuary and the lairs within shall remain forevermore. Detached, yet connected to the rest of Eotrom through twilight and gloom. Thus, come that time, the Plume's goals will be twofold. First, to spread the Owl's glory across the Darkworld of Nonus. And second, to ensure the Owl can keep his watchful eye on the lands of light.

"Naturally, the Owl will look favorably on whosoever is chosen for this sacred task."

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