Menacingly, the great black shape of the invader airship crept across
the sky above Sapience. It flew low, its hull full of fresh troops and
supplies to fuel the army that had amassed on the western side of the
continent. As before, many eyes were trained upon its path, some
studying it, questioning its origins, yet one pair of eyes gazed upon it
with a grim determination. One being knew more of it than the rest, he
knew that only he could strike a mortal blow to these trespassers.

So it was Amal who stood atop the Great Rock, eyeing the airships flight
with a mind clear of fear, questions, and second thoughts. With a great
leap, he took to the air, soaring upwards with the aide of his powerful
wings. He crossed the distance quickly, pulling himself onto the deck of
the ship where he promptly took to dispatching the soldiers present.
Their cries echoed across the sky as they fell to their doom, and Amal
pushed forward. Showing his unrelenting strength, he managed to stop one
of the massive propellers with his bare hands, shattering it like
kindling. The other propeller fared much the same way, Amal sent it
crashing into the ocean outside Ashtan.

Its means of propulsion destroyed, the airship fell from the sky and
crashed down atop the Shooting Star Inn. The inn was consumed in an
instant, along with much of the airship as an explosion sent up a
massive ball of fire. Yet before the fires could even die down, Amal
cried out for the people of Sapience to come to his aide. Atop the Great
Rock a vast host from all walks of life, and unlife, answered the call
to arms. Amal let them know that he would dive head first into the base,
drawing the enemys attention so that the force could attempt to overtake
the base. Though perhaps even he misjudged the ferocity of the troops
there, as almost all of the force was wiped out in the initial charge.
Yet they persevered, and Amal was able to slaughter enough of those
outside the walls so that the others could mop up the rest.

Amal's actions were enough to provoke a response from the apparent leader
of the invasion forces. From atop the back of a great wyrm, rode the
Polemarch Andalso, a Dreikathi as he would later be labeled. Immediately
after making his presence known, Amal went onto the offensive against
Andalso, raining down blows from all angles. Yet despite the fury of his
onslaught, the Dreikathi seemed unphased and easily thwarted the
assault.

Both Amal and Andalso took to the skies above Scidve, fighting atop the
back of the massive wyrm as it circled above the onlookers in the camp
below. Amals attacks were unrelenting, yet it seemed that no matter how
hard he struck at the Dreikathi, he could gain no upper hand. With but
minimal effort, Andalso locked with Amal, and with an almost bored
motion, broke the soldier's neck with but a twitch of his wrist. A great
cry of anguish rose up from those watching, as the lifeless body of Amal
fell from the sky to crash into the forest of Scidve.

With Amal dead, the Dreikathi unleashed more of his horde upon those
present, pushing them from the camp. To the defenders of Sapience the
Polemarch gave one final statement:

"In two months time, the army marches."

Of the Divine, only the Maelstrom reached out to the gathered mortals,
bidding them to be vigilant and await the return of His Brother Arion,
with the Artificer hopefully in tow.

Only time will tell if the Truthseeker will return with His wayward
Brother, and perhaps the desperately sought for knowledge of the origins
of these invaders.

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Lleian, in the year 295 MA.