Teaser 1216 December (End of war with Ravin)

Attacking forces of Mangled, Anguished, Ravenous, and Smothered stopped their assault suddenly, midswing, late on the Night of Guardian’s Glory. Towns that had been about to fall suddenly were not. A great hum of power lifted particles of soil from the ground and raised the hairs on humans and animal alike. The rivers and seas tumbled and tossed. In Fortune’s Bend, at the Great Cathedral in Paradise, at the Guardian’s temple in Fort Firetol, beyond the wall of Helios, a great spiraled hand blazed in victory, proclaiming the triumph of Severrin.

Ravvin was defeated, stripped of his divine blessing, and cast out of the heavens. Without the touch of Severrin’s merciful hand, he lost all control of the Entropic Transfer and the Undead still attached to it. Those ravaged bodies, robbed of all impulses save their own hunger, fled the battlefield or were slaughtered by the rallying populace. Soon after, the Bled and Plagued withdrew as well, disappearing into the night or crawling into the deep fissures in the land.

While much remains to be seen in the aftermath of the titanic fight, the celebration, the relief, the joy can not be denied. Imperial soldiers who were certain that the night would bring the final swing of their swords were, at the sign of the Hand of Mercy, suddenly able to win the day. Beleaguered towns were liberated, and the families whose only hope previously was to remain undiscovered in their cellars were led out to see the great beacons. The Valar stemming the tide of enemy forces from Helios were, at last, able to lower their spears with the knowledge that Tor Mythra was saved.

No one wants to compare who sacrificed the most, or whose loss was greatest. With the great Hand of Severrin lighting the earth, there were only tears of relief and gratitude for those who brought the need for such sacrifices to an end. Before the shaking of the realms dealt a shocking blow to easy travel and the sending of word, one final offering made it through, a poem of victory for the Heroes of Fortune’s Bend.

I am the soldier holding the line,
Standing but seeing my death.
I’ll stay the fight, the bloody fight,
And when I fall, rise without soul,
To fell all I love with my might.

I shout to my comrades and wonder,
Will we live the new day?

I am the parent hiding their child,
Sitting in dark and in dread.
I am afraid of the light, the precious light,
The nightmare’s foe, the child’s haven,
But now would reveal us to monster’s sight.

I sing to them now, and wonder,
Will we live the new day?

I am the leader that cares for my people,
Now seeing them suffer and die.
I can not find the right, none of it right,
No exit, no rally, no bolstering words,
So instead we join hands and hold tight.

Together we we ask of the heavens,
Will we live the new day?

I am the hero of Fortune’s Bend,
Miracle town, hope of the world.
I stand on the edge of the night, the ultimate night,
At the boundary of heaven and earth,
I am the soldier’s fight, the child’s light,
I am the one who makes right.

By my hand it is decided,
Will we live the new day?

The dark, it speaks,
And thunder breaks,
Waves boil on the sea,
Rues all shudders
Sister and brothers,
What will become of me?

For a moment all is quiet,
The Sacred grips us all,
The heroes fight is over,
Will Severrin rise or fall?

And from out the darkened sky and over the black sea,
Let all rejoice,
Let all cry praise
Into every living soul shines the Guardian’s Hand of Mercy!

I am the simple soul that lived,
Through the Guardian’s Glory,
To see the sight, the most holy sight,
Of victory, of peace, of life,
To see another day dawning clean and bright.

To those of Fortune’s Bend we say,
Heroes, live this new day.