Fragments of Time

A telling of this major story event which took place in late 2021.

Chapter List

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Seeking the confluence

A clamour was heard in early Niuran, scraping metal and clanking gears stirring the citizens of Bloodloch, then Enorian, and finally Duiran to a state of alarm as a strange figure roamed in pursuit of something known only to itself. Though the citizens' initial search proved futile, the following week saw the appearance of a mechanical figure on the streets of Esterport, stumbling upon a sermon to the Underking while in the midst of its exploration.

Masses soon gathered to hear what the construct had to say. It introduced itself as Copperhead of the Third Spoke, an emissary of Kalchos, explaining that its purpose was to locate something known as the confluence. Little of substance followed as the Cogger failed to impress its meaning upon those present while rebuffing unwanted contact and executing Teflin Vyktaire in the process.

Another week passed and time itself crawled to a sluggish halt, violent storms causing rain to fly upwards in a bizarre moment of temporal fragmentation. As reality reasserted itself, Copperhead appeared once more in the Ruins of Masilia, where a metal door with of five locks barred the entrance to a newly revealed alcove. Upon communication with the doorway, the construct explained to the growing crowd that while it could pass the gate unharmed, critical danger would befall any other who tried.

It set the adventurers to the task of deactivating the barrier, and the first of five challenges - each allegedly designed to be solved at a certain time - ensued. After solving a complex riddle, unravelling a numbers problem to balance weights with blood offerings, deducing the ingredients for a potion, and manipulating the rings of a peculiar wall to align with the various incorporeal forms, only the fifth remained. Copperhead, ever observant and smug, announced that this would be the easiest and - sure enough - forty nine turns of a moonlit mirror, in keeping with the recurrent theme of seven that had appeared throughout, opened the main door.

Triumphant after days of gruelling riddlery and puzzle work, the adventurers flooded into the newly opened chamber where the aeonic confluence deviced hung suspended in mid air, electricity crackling around its shifting form. An oily smear daubed the skies to herald a coming focus, and no sooner had Copperhead begun inspecting the device, noting that it lacked the marring it had expected, when piping notes sounded out, and the Cogger immediately fled.

Bamathis the Warlord appeared in a flash of silver, accompanied by the skulking figure of Severn, the Manipulator. Strife immediately began surveying the device and with Caelestis ablaze in His hands, attempted to cleave it in twain only for His weapon to pass right through its centre, unharmed and unaffected. The Artificer explained that it was not truly present, not yet real, but a mere shadow, waiting for its moment. With the imminent focus making its presence known, the click of metal announced the sudden arrival of Damariel, the Unbound, manifesting to confront His siblings.

Scolding Bamathis with the tone of a disappointed parent, Damariel counselled caution, issuing enigmatic reminders to His Twin about something owed. A heated argument ensued between the three Gods, the approaching focus almost fully manifested. After a vexed growl from the Artificer, Strife and Truth agreed to let the mortals settle their dispute on the field of unstable ley, from which the confluence device was drawing power to anchor itself. The opposing Divine mustered Their forces for battle, troops soon marching in through opened gateways as a geyser of ylem pushed up through the ground and the fight began.

Violence erupted through all of Masilia with the clashing of troops and adventurers alike. Spirit and Shadow clashed again and again and again in pitched battles, attempting to wrest control of the geyser's surrounding points. Chaos reigned while death reaped its terrible harvest, divisions arranged throughout the Ruins awaiting orders that came in haphazard bursts as their commanders fought on with relentless energy.

Few moments of respite came, reprieve found only in scattered interludes as those recently defeated regrouped at their command posts, regathering their forces to once again join the fray. Division after division poured out of the portals to reinforce the fallen, the ylem geyser looming implacably over the area all the while. Each time it seemed one side had the advantage, yet more soldiers fell to their opposing legions, the bones of unshackled soldiers and argent legionnaires forming broken heaps across the bloodsoaked streets.

As their Gods watched on anxiously, the brutal exchange seemed unending in its ferocity. Magics elemental and esoteric ravaged the area. Hordes of Chaos and Astral entities rampaged. The clashing of countless blades and the roar of innumerable creatures drowned out all other sound. Victory seemed at hand as Spirit took control of three points, yet their final division patrolled without orders. Shadow then took the lead yet they too, could not cross the final bound. The butcher's bill continued to rise, the reek of death intense and pungent.

Desperation struck as the geyser began to lose strength, both Shadow and Spirit marshalling their forces for a final stand. Both pressed on without restraint, felling each other countless times as yet more troops sallied forth in search of victory. Yet it was not to be. The focus collapsed in on itself, the geyser disappeared with neither side laying claim to its energies, and the world released a held breath as the conflict ended without decisive result.

Anomalies

Mere moments had passed following the battle, the Ruins a littered grave of countless dead. Drawn by the din of violence and murder, a tiny spark kindled at the edges of the horizon. Soon it grew to nascent flame, filling the skies with black smog as the smell of sulphur descended upon the world. The heavens caught aflame, ignited in a beacon of inflamed rage, all burning beneath Its terrible gaze. Storms of ash and soot followed Its languid path across the firmament, accursed shrieks clamouring from within Its torrid heart. Fire rained from above, rampaging daemons converging on Masilia with blazing menace. Yvalamon, the Fury, had awoken.

Radiating an oppressive, all-consuming hunger to destroy, devour, and burn, the Fury smouldered, crackling embers seething their way through the Ruins. Wreathed in a corona of shimmering silver, Bamathis stepped forth to meet His hated foe, bellowing aloud a command to His forces to turn back the daemons. Blinding light then erupted from the confluence chamber, the Unbound Lord manifesting a brilliant aegis to shield both Himself and the device from harm. Fully aware of the Fury's intended target, Damariel urged His own children to join the fight, His expression one of intense focus.

Caelestis once more came alive in the Warlord's hands and battle began. His speed enhanced by divine might, Bamathis brought His sword to bear in a surfeit of savage blows, His merciless brutality matched only by the impossibly precise agility with which He struck the opposing Yvalamon. Explosive sparks burst from the Fury with each attempted strike, turning aside the blade as Its anger grew ever more inflamed.

The clarion cry of a hunting horn sounded, cut short by a guttural shout of exertion. The Ithmias shook with the passage of Haern, the Hunter, who appeared in Masilia through a gateway of bright, verdant flame. Rhythm's Spine yearned within His grip, His quiver slung across His back and filled to the brim with arrows. War paint smeared His snarling face as He howled, low and savage, before hefting His spear and launching it at the Fury. Unfathomable anger pealed from Yvalamon as the spear connected with Its calcified form and was devoured in a monstrous flare of white-hot fire.

Undeterred, the Hunter drew Whisper, a single arrow transforming to dozens in a passing moment. The volleys streaked towards Yvalamon from all directions, converging with deadly accuracy. Impassive and languid, It lifted a single arm, melting the arrows to blackened ash before refocusing Its attention upon Bamathis, smothering Him in a blanket of scorching, unquenchable flames. Writhing free of the encroaching blaze with a grunt of exertion, the Warlord pressed His attack in a frenzy of cross cuts and rapid jabs, yet despite bringing to bear the best of His skill, the Tumult blazed riotously, fuelled by hatred, anger, loathing, and barely bore a mark of harm.

Shadows boiled up from the ground with the reappearance of the Artificer, already moving with speed defying perception to join the fight, Blade of Artifice aloft in His hand. Strife and Shadow fought in tandem, Severn dissipating with each assault before reappearing elsewhere to launch another, then another, then another, unable to be caught by the searing Fury. Haern bellowed again, cacophonous thunder accompanying the drawn string of Whisper. A score of lances borne of rippling green fire hung all about the God in the air and He loosed them in a terrible swarm, lighting the sky to emerald brilliance.

Living darkness crawled about the burning Yvalamon by the will of Severn, wrapping It in blackened tendrils as Haern's projectiles struck true in a bloom of bright gemstone moss. Thinking It restrained and weakening and tasting triumph, Bamathis bore down, victory alight in His eyes. Then with a roar of wrath unparalleled It loosed Its pent-up hate, centuries of thunder magnified into a singular moment of disdain. Yvalamon shrugged off Severn's bonds and swelled to magnitudes unseen, blistering heat threatening to devour the world as Fury sought to claim Its kill.

Unfurling wings of colossal size cast Spinesreach into sudden darkness, the entire city quaking with unleashed might as a winged Goddess took flight amidst a storm of coruscating lightning. Her silver eyes blazed with draconic hunger, the firmament yielding to the passage of Tanixalthas with a thunderous sonic boom. She swept through the skies with effortless grace, wreathed in all the power of Sky Dreaming. Recalling well Her past hunger to battle It, Midwinter's Star had come to claim Her due.

Crying a challenge to the Ancient One, the Sun Drinker wheeled above Masilia, Her immense form tensing before She dove, fearless and sublime, toward Her enemy. Warlord, Hunter, and Manipulator were all turned aside with a dismissive shift of Her enormous bulk, and Tanixalthas trained Her avaricious eyes upon the flame-wreathed Fury, fully focused on Her prey. Rearing back, the air shattered with the magnitude of Her unleashed roar as She lunged, falling upon Yvalamon in a rampant frenzy of tooth and claw.

Fire scorched at Her craggy form yet She pressed on, undeterred, Her tail cracking like a whip alongside bolts of azure lightning erupting from betwixt Her tremendous jaws. The ravenous flames of the Burning God flickered and waned under the arcing manifestation of Sky Dreaming's merciless storm. With a callous squall of delight She struck true, hunger yielding to sudden terror as the flames encircling Yvalamon faltered, oppressive heat receding under the sudden wound.

Quelled to mere embers, a deafening howl of anguish ravaged the atmosphere as the Fury - wounded and weakened - at last conceded, Its form diminished before It escaped, scattering upon the air. Tanixalthas loosed yet more threats of destruction before taking wing in search of further sport, the Gods converging about the confluence in the wake of Fury's retreat.

Flurried, curt conversation ensued, the Warlord restless and eager to pursue His fleeing foe. Dismissing the counsel of Damariel - offered up in an attempt to ensure the device's continued protection - Bamathis assured all present that Yvalamon had only fled and would return - and in short order. Haern rebuffed the attempted praise from the Warlord and departed first, with Strife's silver portal following closely behind.

The Twins - one bright and radiant, the other dark and ominous - exchanged a look, eons of consternation wrapped up in a single glance. Glowering, Severn glided through the argent gateway, leaving only the Unbound God remaining beside the device. Frowning, His thought drowning in suspicion, He too finally departed, fading in a dim burst of light.

Now alive with electrical currents, the aeonic confluence had begun to undulate and ripple, spilling forth disjointed scenes in no discernible rhyme or reason, haphazard moments in fragmented time.

Meanwhile, in a place far from the Ruins of Masilia, a lone figure strode along a darkened pier.

The Third Party

Under cover of darkness they sailed, driven forward by the grace of a vigorous maritime wind. The vessel banked and crested over the ways as the captain reviewed a brief missive. Orders were clear; they were to dispatch the greatest threat prior to seeking their prize. As Sapience came into view, the course was set, and they soon moored near the docks of Enorian, unseen and unnoticed all the while.

With much of Sapience distracted by a prolonged ylem instability in the Aureliana Forest, opportunity arose. Seven of them disembarked and stalked the harbour in search of weak points. Concealed by crimson veil and armour black, they plied their clandestine craft with great efficiency, darting onto ships to lay explosives in their hulls and lacing the harbour with an array of rigged - and deadly - fusebombs.

Filing quietly back on board their own ship, the stealthy forces prepared for departure as the first of many violent explosions shook the city with massive force. The ensuing chain reaction was monstrous - ships soon caught fire and began sinking, the screams of countless crew and personnel filled the air as they drowned, smoke billowed into the sky. It was only after hauling up their anchor that realisation dawned: one of their number had been left behind. Nevertheless, they cut a quick and dexterous path out of the dock, speeding away from the shore.

The sea itself came alive to bar their egress, the ever-shifting form of Slyphe, the Maelstrom, rising monstrously from the depths in a whoosh of air and spray. Commanding it to stop in a voice bearing all the force of the oceans, the Sea God drew back Their hand, heaving globes of aqueous essence at the fleeing vessel in an attempt to destroy it. As each approached Slyphe's target, the divine might simply dissipated into harmless mist and steam, leaving it wholly unharmed.

Astonished and naming them Albedi interlopers, the Maelstrom brought forth a wave to rival the Vashnars in size, a terrible tsunami that They sent toward the ship. The waters frothed and churned as it fell upon the vessel at terrifying speed, yet as the sea returned to its calm seremity, nothing of wreckage or craft could be seen.

In the aftermath, the Maelstrom converged upon Enorian, showing no strain as They spoke regret at the invaders' successful escape. The Warlord then joined the growing crowd, His attention drawn by the Albedi incursion. Fully cognisant of Enorian's status as the sole naval power of note on the continent, He promised the aid of His Legion and offered His considerable resources to the rebuilding of the docks. Tense collaboration ensued between the Beacon and those of Strife, overseen by Rhulin Glintspear - grudgingly called out of retirement yet again - and Nok, a Kobold tinkerer loyal to Bamathis.

Investigations at the docks uncovered the occasional remnants of undetonated and inert fusebombs - close to the corpse of a veiled operative. In consultation with Braytal Haarfil - steward of Enorian's pylon - it became clear that the figure was one of the Haekathi - the bastard half-breed offspring of the Dreikathi. Uncertain of the reasoning behind Drakkenmont's involvement, those gathered set themselves to forming plans and commencing repairs, anxious of the Haekathi's inevitable return.

Of Fire and Fury, Copper and Brine

With the docks of Enorian in ruins and Sapience on high alert following the Haekathi incursion, tension gripped the continent as the world itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting in anticipation for the next inevitable calamity to strike.

The wait would be a short one. Following a particualrly intense focus battle deep in the Hlugnic Labyrinth that left scores dead, the scorching presence of Yvalamon the Fury was felt once more. Sweltering heat washed over the entirety of Sapience as the Albedi Tumult attempted to sustain Itself from the conflict and violence permeating the air, growing visibly stronger as yet more hordes of enraged fire daemons poured into the tunnels.

As time wound on, Yvalamon began to manifest regularly at the site of pitched battles, Xaanhal and Arbothia in particular transformed to theatres of conflagrant war. Daemons by the hundreds assaulted Sapience alongside the Ancient God's appearances, Its calcine form infused with greater strength as it fed on the thrill of bloodshed.

~ ~ ~

Many speculated over the fate of Copperhead following its disappearance during the anomalous focus. Unseen since the battle of the Gods, the Cogger's plans remained a mystery until mid Haernos, when its now-familiar clanking tones issued a warning at level five: critical. Moments later, a full veiling of Haekathi operatives converged upon Masilia seeking the aeonic confluence device, but they had severely underestimated their resistance. The Cogger effortlessly dispatched the invaders, executing its combat protocols with deadly efficiency and disposing of the corpses with ease.

As adventurers flocked to its side, the emissary of Kalchos relayed the intelligence it had gathered: the Haekathi had moored off the coast of Scidve where its ship - known as the Midnight Serpent - lay in wait for the operatives' return. Seeing this as a challenge and ever-content for a chance at violence, the people of Sapience took up arms and raided the vessel in small groups, facing copious Haekathi reavers and sailors who stood in defence of the ship's captain: Xaseira.

Armed with restricted technology including an array of shockwave bombs, a gauntlet of peculiar provenance, and a weapon capable of launching projectiles at deadly force, the commander fought a hard campaign and proved a formidable foe, felling countless opponents that attacked her unprepared.

Yet the strength of Sapience prevailed time and again: forcing Xaseira to retreat and regroup before she re-moored elsewhere along the coast. Of the dozens that faced her on her own vessel, it was Tanthilos, Lim, Nipsy, and Whirran who most relentlessly harried the Haekathi commander, setting aside their everyday grudges in order to repel the most pressing threat.

Penned missives and field orders were discovered aboard the Serpent, revealing the Haekathi's twin objectives: to secure the aeonic confluence for the Autarch, and to cripple the naval resistance of Sapience in the process.

~ ~ ~

While Enorian worked in tandem with the Argent Legion to repair their docks, Rhulin Glintspear - still wearied by his interrupted retirement - proposed action: the building of a mighty warship to replace those sunk in the Haekathi's first assault. The plan soon took hold and the city, galvanised by the brazen attack on their soil, was roused to immediate preparations.

As construction began in earnest and donations of commodities and gold poured in - in particular from Xavin, Tinazin, Merek, Isia, and Jezreth - an excited din gripped Enorian. In the days that followed, the Vanguard and her subordinates found themselves sent on many a wild chase in search of aid: procuring a sailmaker after an inordinately difficult series of negotiations, and unearthing a barrel of pitch buried on Eftehl by one of Rhulin's more dubious associates.

As the grace of the Rekindled blessed the Beacon with a gift of a fresh-fashioned ship's wheel, only the matter of naming their burgeoning craft remained.

Dawnbreaker, it would be called. And it would be a mighty vessel indeed.

Summit of Midnight

The Midnight Serpent continued to terrorise the shores of Sapience as time moved into Ios, and Xaseira's mission grew more desperate with each passing day. Now docking more frequently, the Haekathi found herself facing not the ragtag band of adventurers that first boarded her ship, but trained soldiers well-versed in her battle tactics.

Forced to retreat more rapidly with each confrontation, the commander issued further orders to her crew, promising a second attack on Enorian in late Ios and reaffirming the key objective of their mission: securing the aeonic confluence. Mention was made of the Cogger and its interference, references to a 'non-functional remnant' in Spinesreach posited as a way of distracting its gaze.

News of the imminent attack spread like wildfire through the streets of Enorian before a proud Rhulin announced completion of the Dawnbreaker's construction. Weeks of training exercises followed, and though the Enorianites struggled at first with manoeuvring the vessel, they soon found their sea legs under the efficient guidance of Church and Isia who had taken up the skill of captaincy with aplomb.

~ ~ ~

As Enorian prepared for the coming naval battle, the Warlord had but one thing on His mind: Yvalamon, the Fury, still loose and raging about Sapience. Reflecting on the prior battle with the Tumult - and indeed, with Heva before that - Bamathis knew the need for a powerful ally if the Sapient Gods were to prevail.

In a snap summit at the Temple of Thorns, the Warlord met with the Hunter in His own domain, formally requesting aid for the fight ahead. Tensions rose between the two deities as Their followers amassed in observation, those of Spirit and those of Shadow each staring down the other with barely-restrained loathing.

At first reluctant and savagely berating Bamathis, the Hunter's reticence slowly waned with the continued requests of Strife, finally assenting to lend His aid under one condition: that the Manipulator be barred from the battlefield.

The Warlord assured the Hunter that Severn had His own work to do, and the accord was struck. Bamathis took His leave and the two Gods began to prepare for what lay ahead.

~ ~ ~

Meanwhile in Masilia, the stirrings of the aeonic confluence had risen to greater frequency and clarity. Overseen by Copperhead, the Cogger once more indulged the questions and speculations of many adventurers, assessing the likelihood of Haekathi success as exceptionally low.

Though content in its observations of the locality, it was Iesid Mulariad who first made mention of the Haekathi's plot. Intrigued by the 'non-functional remnant', Copperhead made a final analysis of the confluence and took its leave - departing for Spinesreach in pursuit of a new objective.

The Kalchos emissary made known its presence with the familiar clanking of metal and grinding of cogs as it traversed the aqueducts and streets of the Lion, though its citizens searched with vain futility to locate it, and its mission remains unknown.

The Break of Dawn

~ ~ ~

As the grace of the Rekindled blessed the Beacon with a gift of a fresh-fashioned ship's wheel, only the matter of naming their burgeoning craft remained.

Dawnbreaker, it would be called. And it would be a mighty vessel indeed.

Cogminds Think Alike

While Sapience celebrated the defeat of the Haekathi and took a moment to relax, Copperhead had other things on its mind. Arriving in the City of Spinesreach, the Cogger commenced what would be a weeks-long search for the 'non functional remnant' to which it had been earlier alerted. Spirean reactions were a mix of alarm and curiosity as the familiar clanking of metal sounded through the streets. Search parties were dispatched yet for all their efficient scouring of the city, Copperhead remained elusive.

Examinations of the catacombs reminded the Spireans of an ancient construct therein, fused to the stone itself in an age long past. Questions to the irascible Vusbati revealed little, save that the construct predated him and dated back to the First Order. Vusbati explained that researchers of the Second Order had utilised it during his own time with them - to construct the orrery that lay in the catacombs. Though its head had been replaced with the guise of an Ankyrean, the construct's composition was - is - remarkably similar to that of Copperhead itself. Confidence grew, certainty that this was what the Cogger sought.

Under the advice of Sneak and spearheaded by the efforts of Legyn, the Archivists began to prepare a trap formed of geometric patterns in order to restrain the errant Cogger and interrogate it. Though they suspected its quarry, they did not know the Cogger's reason for seeking it. While the Spireans had no malicious intent, they worried for their home and laid in wait. Some days later, what once was a neutral clang of metal and whirring of gears transformed to mechanical indignation: the trap was sprung, and Copperhead - having located that which it sought - raged against the bonds holding it.

Interrogation yielded little of import from the Cogger save for maddened ravings, grief at the fate of what it termed a sacred work, and newfound hatred for the Spireans who - it assumed - had defiled it. When asked of its maker by Saidenn, Copperhead demanded freedom and the Chair - interpreting this as a request to bargain - gave assent. Legyn loosened the bonds and the Cogger broke free in a whirlwind of mechanical fury. Slaying several of those who stood present, it declared a state of war against the City of Spinesreach, felling several guards as it fled the scene of its capture and declared Legyn to be "an asset" for his hand in the liberation.

For weeks then did the Cogger terrorise the Lion of the North, seeking to undermine the city's foundations from below. It wrenched sewer grates free, murdered many more guards, woke rockworms from the earth with its rowdy workings, and came and went to and from the city without obstruction. Loudly broadcasting its plans to the world with each objective it completed, panic began to wrack Spinesreach as tremors shook the city and access to their aqueducts was denied. The citizens rallied to the defence of their home, organising guards and patrols in order to stop what seemed like a course toward destruction. But all efforts were futile.

Once more Sneak came to their aid, positing a theory that the Cogger had fashioned its own means of entering and leaving the city, denying access to the sewers in order to complete its objective. She explained, having obtained the information from Delve's Pious Wards, that Copperhead was a creation of Aechros, the Endless - the Albedi Helm-God of Time and Machines. Copperhead, it was revealed, was no mere machine, but a soul infused into a mechanical body. The broken construct in the catacombs was, it seemed, a similar construct of Aechros that the Cogger believed to have been profaned and defaced. While Sneak sought to locate it, she proposed a plan to capture it and utilise the powers of Yuef and Ef'tig to form a collective mind in order to shut down its attack.

The Numerologist tracked Copperhead to the Crags, where it had bored a tunnel of its own making through the mountains and into the aqueducts. Led by Vara, an enormous group of adventurers composed of Bloodloch and Spinesreach citizens both, gathered for an assault. First navigating a series of Cogger Coms deployed as security, the group cautiously entered the aqueducts, where Copperhead had transformed the simple sewers into a theatre of chaos. The ceilings began collapsing, countless explosives awaited disposal, fissures in the rock made passage difficult, and toxic sludge poured out of broken pipes. The Cogger's maddened ravings rose to a fevered pitch as the adventurers fell in droves, first to premature fusebomb detonations, then to horde after horde after horde of rockworms.

Though it took some time, the disparate group finally began to organise, carefully bracing the ceiling and disposing of loose explosive devices before blowing apart the Cogger's obstructions. In the midst of the chaos, Iesid Mulariad - the same man who had first alerted Copperhead to the presence of the construct - entered the sewers. Despite his valiant efforts to defend Copperhead from the assault, reclassified as an "asset" by it in the process, the Seer of Omei could not withstand the combined assaults and fell. Minutes later, with the rockworms quelled and the various obstacles cleared, the adventurers turned their attention to the water wheels and as one unit, opened all the valves. Water gushed forth to flood the aqueducts in a raging tide, overwhelming the Cogger and washing it into the catacombs, where Sneak awaited.

Losing no time, the Numerologist began to form the collective mind, taking advantage of the construct's weakened state. So it was that Ayukazi, Blodwyn, Dreww, Elene, Eoros, Feirenz, Galilei, Holbrook, Kagura, Kurak, Legyn, Lenoriel, Lim, Nebula, Nipsy, Pietre, Raevina, Renli, Rhyot, Saidenn, Sheryni, Teflin, Tekias, Toz, Whirran, and Wjoltyr relaxed their consciousness and became one in Copperhead's cogmind while Inkh, Mazzion, Xenia, and Reave stood guard over their empty bodies. There they faced an experience unlike any other: their thoughts disparate yet one, faced with countless choices requiring consensus derived from individual input in order to direct the whole.

Painstakingly navigating through the cogmind network, they examined Copperhead's core protocols, reviewed its key directives, and sought to reclassify its conflict directive as low priority. At first slow and scattered in their decisions, the individual minds soon began to yield to the will of the collective, becoming more dexterous in their traversal through the Cogger's brain. Language protocols were required to translate the archives into common. Motor operations enabled the retrieval of oil in order to conduct maintenance and repair core systems. Stray thoughts bubbled up into arguments between the separate thinkers, yet the collective prevailed. Rustguards attacked the one mind and had to be fought off by expenditure of will.

Disabling the security, they ventured into the classified archives to retrieve two codes before returning to the key directives cog. There, they successfully expunged Copperhead's conflict directive before returning to the archives, greedy for knowledge. Examining each and every document, their learning revealed much about the Spokes, the individual Coggers, the Thinking Engines, and Aechros - the Maker, who Copperhead noted with the alias "Sapient sanctitude preservation engineer". Delving into the Fleshsack Memories archive, it was further revealed that Copperhead was once a Tarpen by the name of Dapuna, the date of its voluntary consciousness transferrence unknown.

After more than half a day of analysis, the collective returned to the directives module and reprioritised Copperhead's confluence preservation order. The Cogger stirred then, woken from its stunned and disabled state. Fleeing through the main network, the minds of the collective returned to their bodies, and the Cogger regained its lucid state. Declaring Spinesreach irrelevant, it exhibited confusion as to its location before the directives reasserted themselves and it ambled away, back to Masilia and its prime objective.

Into the Breakage

Following His summit with Bamathis, the Hunter began formulating His trap to ensnare the rampaging Yvalamon. From His halls in the Temple of Thorns He set to work, brooding over the final components that lay in a place no one wanted to go. Creeping rot infests Dendara, an unending onslaught of encroaching filth that slowly devours the plane. Though so many work to keep it at bay, the advance of shadow is unrelenting, and nowhere more starkly feels this interminable degradation than the Breakage: the place where shadow seethes most strongly, where aberrations and rotspawn roam to spread their vileness. It was there that the Hunter's final materials resided.

In a quiet clearing, a humble cabin rests. Within that cabin, the Hunter counseled a Shaman known as Illidan, darkly commanding the man to say goodbye to all his loved ones and make his peace, for the journey into Breakage might not be a safe one. Unfortunately, this goodbye would not come to pass, for Illidan's wife, Valorie Aresti, had vanished from this world. Despite his best efforts to resurrect her, she was lost, destroyed by the confluence and trapped outside of time. With a breaking heart, Illidan instead attended Haern at the Great Oak, where the Hunter explained to Duiran that they would be walking into the thick of corruption, deep into Dendara. Rhydderch, the Runecarver, would open the way inside, spoke Haern, and then the God was gone.

Deep in Dendara lies a bloodied ritual slab, carved with the ancestral stories of champions past. It is to this slab the Shaman Illidan was led, and it was on this slab he swore anew oaths to the Guardians, to Dendara, and to Haern. Hushed voices of spirits whispered his name, passing it along as the trees joined in anxious onlooking. As the ancient ritual proceeded, aberrations broke through the Breakage, drawn by the essence of Life so potent and so vigorous in the air. Rage filled the Hunter as He abandoned the ritual, urgently coming to the defence of the Guardians before tragedy could befall them.

While the Shaman and Hunter did their work, Rhydderch the Runecarver led Duiran to the Valley of the Ancients and began carving a path through the fog to lead them into Breakage. Filth rose to meet them the instant they crossed into Dendara, hordes of rotspawn and aberrations surging forth to feast upon the new arrivals. The Duiranites took up their arms and began to fight, felling them with the combined fury of the wilds.

Meanwhile, Valorie Aresti had ascended into the heavens, so far away from the globe of Aetolia that it seemed as a mere dot to her. There, she met with one of the continent's famed constellations: Veithadros, the hopeful. The celestial entity was merely a memory of the mortal life that had presaged it, but with consciousness enough to possess a twofold purpose in summoning her.

The first of these purposes was to warn her of the peril in which her husband, Illidan, lay - and to this end, Veithadros revealed visions of his potential death, subdued and blighted against his purpose of Dendaric protection. Horrified, she listened all the more closely to him, promising anything in exchange for the power to save Illidan from his fate.

The constellation gave her his legend, though it was not the simple one the Mejevsavelnel had recorded in times past. He spoke of his life as a tailor, and of his lover and eventual wife Keviti, an Ankyrean of the Conclave of Science and Nature, and the romance that had blossomed between them. She had ridden off, leaving him bereft to watch for her, knitting her a fine scarf in anticipation of her return.

A return that never came.

The sky so pitied his circumstance that it raised him amongst the stars, transforming him into a constellation. Only then had he seen Keviti - dead in her grave, hand-in-hand with an Ankyrean husband, with descendants to honor their graves. Finishing his tale, Veithadros urged Valorie to do what he could not: bring her love back home.

In the final moments of their sidereal conversation, the constellation revealed that the confluence had been Aechros' doing, and that the Albedi God's goal in facilitating this meeting was to preserve the Hunter's existence, though its reasons for doing so were unclear. So imbued with the celestial power of legend, he sent Valorie back to the Prime to rejoin her beloved in the Valley.

With Haern on the back foot, caught between defending Illidan and defending the Guardians, it seemed the Shaman would die for naught, and be joined by the hale Hunter. In that moment, the stars aligned, and Valorie Aresti, now reborn as an Aetherial - one graced with the deep empathy of the stars - scoured the rot from the grove in bursts of calescent starlight. With Haern now able to complete the ancient, secret ritual, Illidan gave his life for the Wilds, and Dendara herself responded: wisps of Life from all across the plane traveled to the primordial grove to breathe life anew into the corpse of a Shaman that lie atop the deathbed and, in a moment of exultation, Illikaal rose, named Tiarna an-Kiar by the Guardians.

As the filth grew in numbers and in confidence, desperation struck a solemn tone within the Breakage, the seemingly endless legions pouring forth to spread their rot. Each time the forces of Duiran repelled them from one of the glades, fresh waves appeared to lay siege to another, and on and on it went for half a day, the enveloping shadow striving desperately to destroy the few remaining healthy glades. Respite came for the briefest of moments, a lull in the gruesome conflict that rekindled fresh hope in those gathered. The Duiranites dared to breathe. But then it came.

A seething aberration of monstrous, murderous proportions tore its way through the Breakage, eyes trained upon the western glade. Though they threw everything at it, the lesser rotspawn still surged in great numbers. Death presided on both sides, and as the great monstrosity broke through the barrier, it set to ravaging the western glade until naught remained but rotten foliage and dead, lifeless trees.

Moving between cairns at speeds only a God could manage, Haern delivered Illikaal and Valorie to the Breakage, still fresh from their trials. There, they witnessed a truly gargantuan aberration and, with a vicious bellow, Haern led Illikaal, Valorie, and the combined might of Duiran and its allies in battle against the monster.

Though many suffered, the Hunter and His cadre triumphed over the hungering rot, the beast's keening scream echoing across the shattered skies of Dendara as it fell. Haern retrieved what He had first sought to ensnare the Tumult, and with no small measure of relief, led the contingent back to Duiran, where they would live - if only barely - to fight another day.

Blood and Betrayal

As war erupted throughout Sapience and Midsummer broke upon the world, the continent trembled in the face of seemingly endless conflict. Some speculated it was the work of Yvalamon, the Fury, Whose attendance at the battlefields of Sapience roused terrible lust for violence in the hearts of all who bore witness. Others claim that tensions simmering beneath the surface were due to boil over - regardless, bloodshed ruled the minds of so many, and so much death would be a fine harbinger of the Godsclash to come.

While the month wound on, the Burning God appeared without fanfare or herald above Masilia with a desperate need to destroy the aeonic confluence lurking in its ruined halls. Flame lashed the streets, sending countless dwarves fleeing for their homes in panic as the raging fires came together as one and formed Sa'mirjal: a Cinder of the Fury Itself. Dozens threw themselves at the daemon, its strength far outstripping the lesser chattel of its dread master. Though it claimed lives innumerable, even turning friend against friend in the clash, it finally fell to a combined onslaught of adventurers from across Sapience, and for a moment, there was peace.

It would not last. Mere minutes later the clarion of bugles called the world at large back to war - this time in Farsai where Haern, the Hunter and Bamathis, the Warlord, had laid a trap for Yvalamon and had engineered a great battle to act as bait. The fight began with death in droves, the loosed magics of all the world's professions arranged against each other with violent, murderous intent. Blades sang their sanguine song with each strike of steel against steel, arrows flew through the air, meteors rained from above, and all the while fire and blood ripped through the battlefield until - after some two hundred individual deaths - the dust began to settle and Enorian, owing much to the contributions of Czcibor Svin - emerged victorious.

Fire painted the heavens then, the skies set to burning by the arrival of Yvalamon, the Albedi God of War and Hatred. Unable to resist so vast and delectable a feast, It lit up the firmament like the coming of a bloodstained dawn and surged into Farsai determined to gorge Itself on yet more suffering and torment. Flames spread through the ruins with Its traversal, before an emeraldine mist shimmered into view, cloaking Farsai in a vibrant canopy fashioned of sudden rampant growth.

Battered architecture fell away in an abrupt shattering of woven glamour, parting with the twang of myriad arrows to reveal launchers arranged in ambush. Exposed in the moment of their strike, the constructs spew forth streams of twined bolas that arch high into the air, conspiring at the apex of their flight into a webwork of spirit given deadly purpose. As the barrage of bolas converged upon their target, a flash of spirit ignited within their heart, simple projectiles transformed in Dendaric, arboreally-accelerated apotheosis to become Gaethrin - living chains of life and leaf, vine and verdure that rapidly encircled the Burning God.

Yvalamon raged in defiance of Its bonds as the sonorous bellow of horns announced the arrival of Haern, the Hunter, His clever trap sprung. The Wild God cut a striking silhouette at His approach, clad in Stealth, Cloak of the Hunt with the Stag Helm atop His head. His living trap rebuffed the burning of the Fury, rapidly regrowing itself with each vine and plant seared away. In a flash of silver, Bamathis, the Son of Autumn, strode with confidence onto the battlefield, the argent warhammer Lurati Vontem held two-handed as His resolute gaze fell upon the raging monstrosity.

Relentless in His advance, the Warlord delivered blow after hammer blow to Yvalamon, virulent black smoke gathering about Its inflamed form with each subsequent attack. The Hunter - engrossed in maintaining His grip upon the trap - looked on with a set jaw of determination, sweat forming on His brow with the continued effort. Silver sparks began to surround the embattled Gods as the battle drew on, Bamathis losing no steam even as Yvalamon raged against Its snare, scorching away countless new life with each unleashed surge of Its fiery blaze. Smoking chunks fell from the Burning God as Bamathis pressed on, yet the Fury seemed to lose no steam, shattering ancient buildings as It lashed out with greater and greater ferocity.

Bamathis - concerned of the trap's longevity and anxious to at last defeat this eldritch foe - called out in wary tones, heedless of Haern's reassurances that the snare would hold its prey, and that victory was close at hand.

Darkness rose to consume Sapience in an obscuring pall of gloam, rapacious murk congealing in a confusion of inky smoke and jet black shadow. From its shrouded epicentre stepped forth Severn, the Manipulator, joining the Warlord in defiance of fire and wrath even as the Tumult writhed beneath Its living chains, rendering so much life as so much dust on the stultifying wind. Brief silence fell for a meagre moment, instantly replaced with the hushed promises and whispered utterings that have only one source. A single finger was the Artificer's sole gesture before darkness came alive at the God's unspoken command, a morass of non-light manifesting like a great black wave of impending gloom. Tension gathered in its sable dimensions, tremulous - and then the shape of it fractured, diverging into dozens of inky black tendrils slithering 'cross ground and sky to envelop the smouldering Tumult in a void-wrought lattice of unshakable bonds.

A roar of transcendental rage escaped the bound and irate figure of Yvalamon as the woven darkness crawled into position to bind It ever tighter. A shadow of consternation passed over the resolute face of Bamathis, yet the Warlord dismissed it with another swing of His mighty hammer, wisps of brilliant silver lashing at the Fury as the weapon struck true, the shadow parting in momentary revelation as the blows landed before violently reasserting themselves about their conflagrant prisoner.

The Manipulator's fingers scarcely shifted at His side, the God's age and mastery highlighted in the simplicity with which His shadow first infected, then reinforced, and finally supplanted His Brother Haern's blighted bindings. The profuse greenery that was the Hunter's snare twitched and trembled, rotting away under the devouring dark and unable to outpace shadow's consumption with its own rapid regrowth. Haern's bellow - thunderous and mighty and weighted with the unimaginable fury of Nature Divinity - boomed out in horror and protest both, grief-stricken and shocked to His very core. A great lamentation arose from the forests of Sapience, predator and prey alike keening to the sky in solitude with Haern's sorrow, His own cry splitting the sky to mark the death of a living, vital piece of Dendara, sacrificed in Bamathis' ploy for victory.

Wracked with sorrow and hurt, truly hurt by the weight of betrayal thrust upon His shoulders, the Hunter mourned for what had been lost, and the Tumult surged in sudden renewal. It drank deep of that well of sadness, feeding on the suffering and torment. Its diminished form flared in a whip of searing scarlet, heat unbearable accompanying its violent consumption. The Fury sloughed off Its bonds, shedding Itself free of trap and binding in a whirlwind of sibilant hissing and acrid smoke. The battlefield is cloaked as never before, belligerent flame straying to strike against the Manipulator's summoned shadow.

The enraged howling of Tumult and Triumvir drowned out all other sound as Bamathis lunged beside Severn in a swan song of final strikes, yet the Fury - roused to yet greater and more terrible power from Its feast, rebuffed Their attacks with a riotous explosion of white-hot fire, forcing Them back. Yvalamon stilled, flames flaring in the animate delight of imminent victory, before Its elongated, jagged, barbarous and repugnant form turned from Farsai to undulate away, Its traversal 'cross the firmament leaving blackened smears of sooty smoke in Its dread wake.

Howls of grief transformed to snarls of rage, blood-red anger flaring from the God of Nature as He tore Himself free of His helm, leaving it to clatter to the ground. Bellowing His rage at Bamathis, the Hunter's voiced disbelief at the perceived betrayal was in itself heartbreaking. He cradled the dying remnants of the living trap in His arms, disavowing Bamathis as His Brother. Though the Warlord argued that the woven snare was failing, and that Severn's intervention was needed to ensure Their success, Haern, inconsolable and furious beyond comprehension, cut them off with another incensed howl, vowing to never again sacrifice more of Dendara to feed Their foolishness.

As tensions seemed to reach the breaking point, and with the relationship between Warlord and Hunter perhaps irrevocably sundered, the mechanical tones of Copperhead broke the apprehensive atmosphere with a declaration that the confluence - all but forgotten in the throes of violent battle - was about to reach full locality and clarity. With unabated sorrow etched deep into the creases of His feral features, the Hunter turned away, disappearing through a lucent archway of wildflame. No words passed between Artificer and Warlord, an exchanged look - at once encompassing regret and trepidation - the sole concession of acknowledgement of the Tumult's escape. As the Gods took Their leave, dozens rushed to Masilia to observe...

Recollections

A return that never came.