The light from the brazier flickered uneasily on the rough-hewn stone
walls. Eerie shadows played around the columns and vaulted ceiling,
black fading into red and then the gray of the stone. The shadows took
the forms of distorted golems and strange spirits with booming voices,
faces stretched madly and limbs twisted and awry. They scrabbled along
the walls and over tables laden with magickal implements; they played
amidst beakers and burners and oddly-shaped glass bottles, and past
jars filled with things best left unseen.
"This is a disturbing place, Nystul," said Lord British,
glancing around. "Surely magic doth not require gloomy surroundings."
He stood on a small dais, gathered around the brazier with two other
men: Nystul, wizard to the Court, and Lord Blackthorn. The other two
men seemed quite at ease in the room, despite the unearthly shadows
they cast. "Hush, my Lord. I require concentration for this,"
Nystul said, focusing intently on the brazier. Blackthorn peered over
his shoulder with professional curiosity, then his eyes widened. "There!"
the black-clad Lord said. "What is that?" Nystul muttered
under his breath and swept his hands outwards, causing the flame of
the brazier to leap higher. And dancing in the flames came shapes, and
then the shapes resolved into images. It was Britannia, seen from far
above, the shapes of the cities and coastlines discernable. Lord British
caught his breath in wonder, to see his land spread out before him.
Yet a figure loomed behind it all, grim and red, yet difficult to see.
It lunged, and a powerful arm reached towards the green countryside,
and massive fingers stretched wide... and from the fingers fell a scattering
of what appeared to be dust.
The images shifted to follow one of the falling lights, closing in
on it, as it was revealed as a falling crystal, that falling through
the air gathered heat and light to it, shrouding it in contrails of
cloud and smoke. It fell to the earth, and as it approached the ground
farms became visible, and with the farms the crops being plowed in a
runneled field. They saw a bull placidly pulling at a yoke, and a wagon
behind it, a young farmboy perched on the wagon, idly chewing on an
apple core.
And further did the crystal fall, as the startled farmboy watched,
until it embedded itself with a thundering crash in the road just ahead
of him, throwing up mud and rock with a sound like a thunderclap. The
bull snorted and broke free of the yoke, panic showing in its rolling
eyes, and the wagon overturned. As the flames began to dwindle back
down, the images shrank, until Lord British was barely able to see the
lad crawl out from under his broken wagon, and see the boy's eyes widen
as he saw the crystal in its crater in the road before him, a crystal
that embedded in it had a refracted image of a planet--Britannia itself...
The flames fell to nothing, and the three men gathered stared into
the coals for a moment, faces hidden in greater shadow than before.
"This is not the first such I have seen," Nystul said finally.
"There have only been a few at first, but the frequency is increasing.
And I fear that it means great evil for our realm. These crystals seem
tainted with darkness..." His voice trailed off.
Lords British and Blackthorn exchanged a significant glance.
"I think we know their source, Nystul--but worry not about that.
Can this force be contained?" Blackthorn said, hand upon his chin.
Nystul looked thoughtful, then shrugged. "I am sure it can be;
at the very least we could open a moongate with no egress and push them
outside our plane of existence. They would however need to be gathered
and brought here."
"Excellent!" Lord British said, decisively. "And I think
I know exactly the method. It has been a while since our citizenry hath
had a common cause." He poked Blackthorn in the side. "And
I think this may be one cause that even thou must agree with!"
Blackthorn looked at him sourly, rubbing his side. "Whate'er must
be done to save this land, you know that, my Lord."
"So be it," Lord British said, turning from the brazier.
"Come, gentlemen, we have work to do!"
Unseen by them, as they walked away making plans, another contrail
was formed in the sky by another crystal, falling to ground from the
skies over the city of Britain...
{Proclamation}
HEAR YE, HEAR YE!
A PROCLAMATION from LORD BRITISH to all the CITIZENS of BRITANNIA!
WHEREAS our fair land is plagued by what scholars term meteors falling
from the heavens, and
WHEREAS it hath been determined by noted mages of the realm that these
may contain INIMICAL MAGIC, and
WHEREAS it is undesirable that said magic coexist with our citizens
and cause harm to them,
WE DO DECLARE a state of emergency, and request the aid of all who
may
grant it, in GATHERING UP the eerie CRYSTALS fallen from the skies so
that they may be DESTROYED!
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