“Time is not on our side! If things continue on their current path, we are all doomed!”
Gideon looked around the Zaikhal meeting hall, nearly bored to tears. They had been ranting on about the dreaded Hopeslayer for hours. Who cared about the Hopeslayer anyway? If this Bael’Zharon was going to arrive, wouldn’t he have gotten here already?
Gideon stood, throwing his hands up in the air in disgust. “Why don’t you people live a little! Other things are out there besides those Shadows and their shiny floating crystals.” The chatter in the room stopped almost instantly. Shocked faces regarded Gideon incredulously.
“I imagine that most of you probably don’t know this, but we do have other enemies besides them. Any creature with a weapon or spell can kill you, and I assure you, there are creatures other than Shadows capable of wielding both.
“The monsters all over Dereth are getting better organized. Little camps of mosswarts have begun appearing on the countryside, which means we may start seeing monster fortifications in the near future.”
Gideon shouldered his crossbow and began to walk toward the exit portal.
“And in case you’ve forgotten, it is harvest time — grain and pumpkins are being harvested under the glowing, watchful eyes of scarecrows. There is a keg in every town, and a festive feel to the air. Speaking of which, I know it has probably been quite a while since any of you have seen a member of the opposite sex, but they are out there you know. Live a little.
“And it probably wouldn’t hurt for you to dress a little better, too. I hear they have some new outfits that might even make scholars look good.”
And with that, Gideon exited the meeting hall, leaving a stunned silence behind him.
The night skies cleared. Stars flickered to life in the void. The glowering volcanic face of Rez’arel and pale, mysterious Alb’arel rose again along their courses.
Humanity began to rebuild after the violence of the previous month, even as the Shadow Spires that had wrought the destruction began to dig themselves back into the earth from whence they’d come. In Arwic, the Environmental Defense League respectfully buried the smoldering remains of the town’s beloved heifer, Sally. In Tufa, the residents stoically rebuilt their shops on ledges round the rim of the crater.
Tufa’s scribe left to join Fazyad ibn Raymar’s expedition into the cool grottos of Xarabydun. Explorers had recently discovered this network of caves under the sands between Al-Arqas and Khayyaban. The facility was a former Empyrean archive, and the scholars of Zaikhal carted thousands of books out of the lower caves for study. The first fruits of their research were the so-called “peas,” a Yalaini method of storing magic reagents in compact form. Ibn Raymar’s party colonized the upper caves, though the lower regions remained dark and overrun by creatures. Rumor held that a valuable aid to enchanters could be found in the lower tunnels, but the entrance was magically forbidden to the elite of Dereth.
While the Shadows remained quiet, other races hostile to humanity were not. Explorers venturing into the rugged Linvak Mountains were stunned to find an enormous fortress under construction by the Lugians. Some mages feared that its massive walls must be made of chorizite, and began wailing to their respective gods that the structure be struck down by one of the increasingly rare shooting stars.
Sir Candeth Martine, an explorer of the Dereth Exploration Society, disappeared into the Blackmire Swamp on a mission to study the habits of mosswarts. Would-be rescuers discerned that a rival tribe of banderlings had evicted Martine’s band. The trail of the refugees was followed as far west as Uziz. Unfortunately, Sir Martine seemed to have been abducted by some other group at that point, for only his journal was found among the mosswarts. By the end of the month, no further clues to his location had been found.
In the Direlands, portals to a “Floating City” began to appear and disappear at random. This structure, constructed within the wilds of portalspace, drifted wantonly through that strange violet-lit realm. Notes dropped throughout the massive structure proved that at least one Isparian, bombastic explorer Alatar Locke, had previously wandered the dusty corridors. He opined that the city had been built at the height of the Seaborne Empire of Yalain, when portal magic was “in vogue.” In time, its enchantments lost their potency. The city was cast adrift, fading in and out of contact with the world of Auberean over the millennia.
Perhaps in response to the disquieting news coming from all quarters of Dereth, a festive atmosphere infected the towns. On Ispar, Harvestgain was, naturally enough, the month of harvest. Perhaps because of the abundance of scarecrows back home, some of the homely straw men found their way through the vagaries of portalspace. Some people reported animate scarecrows harassing travelers, but no reliable witnesses could be found. These tales were dismissed as the work of those kegs rolled out for the harvest festival.
There was unexpected benefit to the arrival of the scarecrows, however. In their empty heads were seeds allowing Isparian pumpkins to be grown in Dereth. The traditional autumn foods of pumpkin soup and pie soon graced dinner tables. In keeping with Aluvian custom, some of the pulpy round fruits had demonic faces carved into them. Superstition held that these faces would ward off evil. The Shadows did not seem overly impressed.
After months of work, the largely ignored tailors of Dereth began to sell exquisitely designed dresses, ensuring that they would occasionally be able to feed their families. One enterprising Aluvian leather crafter decided to alter her Kireth gown to allow a bit more . . . ventilation. She offered her skills as a seamstress to others at no charge. To her considerable surprise, she found herself beset both by conservatives, who claimed that the cut of the dress would adversely affect the moral fortitude of Isparians, and liberals, who claimed the cut of the dress denigrated the Aluvian goddess-trinity and Queen Elysa Strathelar.
The master crafters Alexander the Deft, Janda Sulifiya, and Tsua Kagemata offered to create masks from the heads of banderlings, skeletons, drudges, tuskers, and mosswarts. To the alarm of Ayan Baqur’s residents, a second Virindi, calling itself Leopold, floated into town one afternoon. It drifted aimlessly around the town, closely observing the passers-by and asking many questions. Leopold, as it turned out, was also a mask-maker. . . of sorts.
Leopold was hardly the most worrisome Virindi of the month. The underground redoubts of Sotiris and Tumideon were discovered in the wastes of the Obsidian Plain. In those inhospitable halls, the enigmatic Virindi had created “Hollow Minions.” These artificial life forms vaguely resembled scarecrows, but were animated with malicious intent and partially constructed from chorizite ore. They proved highly resistant to magic, and could punch through magical armors with their hollow fists.
A final ill wind blew through the Direlands during Harvestgain. In a small cave by the coast, one of Dereth’s most benign creatures acquired a hideous strength, heretofore unseen in the world. The time of the white rabbit (affectionate dubbed “Pookie,” by some) had come . . . and the bodies began to pile up like cordwood.