Time, 12:00 AM
The Shadow Lord looked out from its palace, gazing at the vile kingdom of darkness it ruled. The land was nothing but dead grey earth dotted with rocky outcrops as far as the eye could see. The stench of death hung heavily in the air. It looked towards its factory, which was busy belching smoke as the production of its newest minions and creations were well underway. It then turned its gaze towards its Shadow Arena, where morning cries of its prisoners could be heard upon the wind. Don’t worry soon your torment will be over. Finally it looked out to the plains once again, where it saw hundreds of the wild and deformed monstrosities that prowled the waste whimper and cower before its brand, flying high in the crimson sky like the sun.
Would anyone ever believe that this kingdom of darkness was once beautiful? That instead of death and smog, rolling green hills and sweet air dotted this landscape? That people laughed and played while sweet music flowed across the land ever morning, noon and night? The Shadow Lord smiled as it remembered that land. It was so long ago, back when the Shadow Lord could be called ‘he’. He had fled into the mountain from the land to the south and spent many years gathering followers and expanding his already dark powers. All while he studied both lands strengths and weaknesses. Opportunity knocked with the land to the north, then still called Pirra.
He had learned that the land was protected by a mystical object known as the Pirran Pipe. Three times each day the Piper would play the instrument and all evil were dispelled from the land. That is, until the Piper grew old and died. A contest was held to determine the next Piper, but it ended in a three way tie. The people tried again and again, but always no winner was declaired. The Pirrans were at each other’s throats, demanding that their contestant be named Piper! That’s when he had stepped in, and suggested that the Pipe be split in three, so they can all share the honor of holding it. Like fools they agreed and then went their separate ways. The next morning, he invaded and warped the beautiful land into the bastion of darkness it was today. He never found the Pirrans though, as they used their magic to have the earth swallow them whole.
It cast its gaze south, to the land beyond the Barrier Mountains. One day, it would have that land. It would dominate its people, crush its cities, mine its earth and launch ships of war from its shores. But like its sister land before it, this one was also protected by old and ancient magic. Just like Pirra however, it had figured out the lands weakness. It would take many years, hundreds possibly, but it could wait. To its anger and envy a thousand years was like the blink of an eye.
Suddenly something caught the Shadow Lords attention in the southern land. It was a foreign presence, the likes of which it had never felt before. It sensed that, whatever the presence was, contained great magic that could assist in the conquest of the south. It turned from the land it coveted and instead focused on a glass table. Fixed into the center was a crystal that swirled with grey smoke rimmed with red. It spoke into the crystal with a slow hissing voice. “Drumm.”
Not a moment later the red smoke parted and in its center was the snivelling face of its servant. “Yes master, I am here.” He said in a high, whining voice. He was not the most impressive of the Shadow Lords creations, but even a worm such as him has its uses. “I have good news my lord, that idiot king Lucan has begun to grow ‘ill’, giving you even more power within the palace.”
“That is not why I come to you slave.”
Drumm quivered before the hissing whisper. “Forgive me master.”
“You do not deserve it, but I still have some use for you.” It paused for a moment before continuing. “I sense something in Deltora, the likes of which I have never seen.”
Drumm’s eyes suddenly grew with fear. “My lord, could this possibly threaten your plans?”
“Nothing can threaten my plans Drumm. They are so interwoven and intertwined that you can’t avoid one without being caught in the web of another.” It hissed. “I want you to keep an eye out for whatever this presence is.”
“I’ll have my spies scour the kingdom for you master. I can assure you that this presence will be in your hands before the next full moon.”
“I can be sure of nothing from you Drumm. Perhaps I should replace you early?”
Drumm whimpered at the thought. “Pleas master, allow me to prove myself to you. Just give me another chance!”
It considered for a moment before speaking again. “Very well Drumm. We shall see if you’re eyes are as good as you make them.” With that the grey smoke covered the crystals surface again. The Shadow Lord had little faith in Drumm’s resources, so it called for its eyes and ears. They would find this foreign magic infinitely faster than he would.
The Shadow Lord wasn’t the only being who had sensed the anomaly though. The lands guardians had also felt it and while most were asleep now, those who were awake observed from afar. They didn’t know if these new arrivals were friend of foe yet, so they observed attentively.
With the party over and their guests all gone home, Games Master and Festivities sat down at one of their tables and placed the map on it. It shone more brightly than before, and along with the seven markers there was now a large black marker in the area marked Shadowlands. The two mares grinned at this, everything was going well. The pieces were in place, the players were ready, and rules were stated. Soon the main event would begin.
Festivities brought up two silver goblets filled with grape juice and handed one to her twin. “Let the games begin.” She said
“May the festivities commence.” Her twin responded.