The Plot Unveiled

The soft, grey, pre-dawn light flickering through the eerie mist found a solitary figure standing on a hilltop, surveying the surrounding area. He missed the familiar sounds of his homeland, the soft scent of jasmine and cherry blossom, but he knew what he had to do. It was simple enough, in theory. In practice, it was a nightmare – an artefact lost in this alternate world, destroyed in his own, hidden from the eyes of men by magic of the highest order.

He sighed. It would try the patience of his ancestors to solve this one.

As the sun rose over the horizon, he turned and returned to the camp. Silk banners fluttered in the breeze, bearing the symbol of the Black Phoenix clan.

“General!” he shouted, “General Lu!”

A great bear of a man stepped out from the nearest tent, his face a pock-marked and scarred mass of stubble. His eyes gleamed from beneath his helmet.

“Yes, Tsu?” he snapped. The Sorcerer felt a moment of fear, as he always did around the general, but steeled himself. The men whispered that Lu had once been possessed, but had defeated the daemon through strength of will and imprisoned it. He certainly fought as if this was the case, and the disquieting glow in his eyes…

“General, has the prisoner been of use?” he managed to say, fighting not to avert his eyes from the baleful glare.

Lu snarled, shooting a venomous look back at the tent. Tsu half expected the fine silk to burst into flame.

“None whatsoever. He persists in trying to sell me cheap trinkets and baubles, and keeps insisting I give him cheese.”

Tsu suppressed a smile with difficulty. He too had heard the squeaking pleas of their captive.

“What of the stone?” Lu asked suddenly, those intense eyes turning back to burn into Tsu.

“It is as the daemons said – it contains powerful, ancient magic – some form of bound spirit, perhaps. It seems to be generating a field of low-level magic around it, attracting germs and bacterium.”

Lu smiled, and Tsu finally gave into the urge to shudder. There was something deeply unwholesome and hungry about the expression on Lu’s face.

“What of the Urn?” he snapped, suddenly, “has it been found?”

“We continue to search, general. It will not elude us for long. We are sure it lies somewhere here – the records of our world tell that the primitive explorers from a town called Solpedroh took it. My research leads me to be certain that this translates to Moon, the original name for this… desolate place.”

As if on cue, a breath of wind brought a distant, ravenous moan from the ruined town.

“Then we shall continue to search until it is found,” Lu snapped.

“With the deepest respect, general, the Urn could easily have slipped into the sea, or been taken elsewhere…”

The General shut his eyes briefly, his mouth narrowing into a thin line of displeasure. When he opened them again, they were pure black. Baleful darkness blazed out of them, smothering everything it touched in blackness so deep it was almost tangible. In a voice totally unlike his own, he snarled at Tsu.

“It is here. We have felt it.”

Tsu took a step backwards. Even for a practitioner of the magical arts, this was out of the ordinary.

“I…” he cleared his suddenly dry throat, trying not to look at the trickle of blood running from the general’s nose, “I am having problems locating anything magical here. The soil is filled with magical stones, meteors of some sort…”

“You will recover as many of them as you can. We have need of them.”

“The White Dragon are on the verge of finding us. Unlike the miserable warriors of this land, they are a true threat to us. They even have their own ink men…”

“We will provide for you. We will send you some stronger fighters. In return…find us the Urn, and take the gemstone to the chief of the Savage Clans. He will know what to do with it.”

General Lu turned, gesturing towards the tent. A swirling moongate appeared in the air before it, as black as tar. A figure stepped from it, indistinct and transparent, like a ghost in the dawn light. He bowed before the general.

“This,” the General told Tsu, “is our finest warrior. He is also disgraced, and on his final opportunity to redeem himself in our eyes. If he fails to aid you, you will kill him.”

The transparent figure turned his head towards the general, and his transparent face coloured briefly with anger. The general ignored this.

More figures stepped through the gate, their forms seemingly carved of solid darkness. It took Tsu a moment to realise they were ancestor spirits, drawn from their rest like those who accompanied the army – but inside the forms of these, that blackness spun and swirled. Baleful red eyes stared out from behind the carved masks.

“These warriors will aid you. They are the Deathless, shadowy wraiths from your land in another world, a world we rule. This will be your fate if you fail us…”

The threat hung in the air, clear to all. The general blinked, his eyes clearing, then sagged, wiping the blood from his face. He wore a haunted look for a moment, which swiftly gave way to anger.

“Call forth the summoners!” he snarled, “and be ready! We head to Ilshenar! And do something about that idiot rat!”

After the army of the Black Phoenix had moved on, something flickered among the branches of a nearby tree. As silent and swift as a shadow before the sun, Li Nu of the White Dragon dropped to the sickly grass. Checking to make sure no-one could observe his presence, he slipped into the tent…