The Flame of Time
Haidzruno runu, falahak haidera, ginnarunaz. Arageu haeramalausz uti az. Weladaude, sa’z þat barutz. Uþarba spa.
“My Lady!” Salvatore whispered, when he opened his eyes. Delgen was just finishing up the last bit of the ritual when the archon stirred back to life. Darella silenced the red warrior and caressed him behind the ear. The resurrection was interrupted by an all too familiar sound.
“What now!?” Leomourn asked, looking at a new tear in night sky. He walked forward and touched a raindrop that was just hanging in the air. Time was stopped.
Four elemental dragons emerged from the tear, glided through the night and landed near the temple.
“Success has been achieved.” A draconic voice echoed within the minds of the adventurers.
“Bahamut has regained his energy and form and is off fighting Tiamat in the First Void. Tiamat’s vile machinations might actually come to an end. Bahamut will aid in this war against the Dark One.” Vilzriquath’s slow voice echoed.
“The Dark One?” Delgen asked.
“The one called Nyor; once thought to be destroyed is once again awake and has been rousing an army. Nyor has recruited Surtr, the fire giant and his forces. He has also loosened Naglfar, the dead ship. Countless others have joined the Dark God’s cause, including Tiamat.” The Dragons said.
“Nyor?” Darella said.
“Tiamat has been sleeping under the World Tree since her banishment, gnawing at it’s roots. She was trapped under three roots of the tree, the only thing strong enough to hold an entity that powerful. But she has been attempting to get free ever since. This tree’s sap is the source of Mímisbrunnr, the well of knowledge. If Tiamat were to taste even a drop of the Nectar of Knowledge, she would not only gain the ability to free herself but countless other secrets known only to the universe and it’s creators.”
“This war of Darkness that we keep hearing about…Nyor is behind it all? What about Malich?” Leomourn asked.
“The one called Malich is but a pawn. Nyor is using Malich to gain possession of the Paths. Ancient graphemes of the universe, the foundation of which all is made. Sounds, runes or routes of manipulation. These runes of creation are said to be the alphabet in which The Writer wrote all of existence. If one knows theses Paths, he could control reality. Tiamat has sided with Nyor in hopes of gaining use of the runes. Nyor has been harvesting these runes and is nearing the end.”
“These runes, they are harvested from people?” Amarella asked, awkwardly with a hand over her mouth.
“The runes exist everywhere, just as much as the letter “a” is all around. In naming, it is. Some runes represent more than a foundation or a sound if you will, but a whole concept to itself you could say. A rune could be in a tree, a stone or a person and major runes can only be found in special locations. A rune resides in each one of you, and one in the Giant called Fafnir. There are probably more, for they attract each other and usually gravitate together. The Illithid may be a Path as well, we cannot say. These tokens should be guarded above all, luckily for us if you survive Nyor has not succeeded."
“Tyric.” Leomourn whispered.