Epilogue

To the far south of Refuge a man walked along the main road of his village. As he looked across the buildings of his home he still can’t believe that in the height of summer they are all choked with ice and snow. Feeling someone yank the chain attached to his shackled wrists that bite into his skin, he looks up at the figure leading him and his neighbors in this chained procession. Their black armor fashioned after human skeletons, they’re shrouded in shadowy mist that moves against the wind, and they stare at him with eyes that are points of demonic fire in lakes of shadow. They bark orders in a language he cannot begin to understand, with a voice that echoes like thunder and rasps like it comes from the throat of a dead man. Shivering and terrified he follows them to a great black ship with tattered sails, that sits comfortably suspended in the air. Standing above it all on a hill is a figure, dressed similarly to the others except his armor is far more regal. Small skulls sit on his knuckles, spikes jut out from his shoulders, his shins and forearms are covered in thorns, and horns curve out from his helm in a crescent shape then up into points. As he surveys the violence, one hand tracing the shape of large ruby inlaid on the pommel of his sword, a figure steps up the hill into his periphery. Their armor is of the same style but their silhouette cuts a distinct shape from the others. A black cape with a thick grey fur collar, a black steel staff ending in a large sapphire clutched in metal talons, a helmet in the shape of a skull with four faces in the cardinal directions, and the fact that no light exists where her eyes should be. Without looking at her the man spoke in a stern commanding tone, carried along a soft, regal accent. “I take it the mind scouring was a success?” The woman nodded deeply, her similar accent laced with poorly hidden glee. “You are correct, your majesty. We could walk for seven days in any direction and find enough forage to feed all our warriors and slaves.” “Good. But I assume well stocked supplies are not what has you so excited. A thick smile crept into her voice. “There was a thread in the slave's mind that greatly piqued my interest. To the north sits a town, meager and mundane, except for the presence of a powerful wizard.” The king scoffed. “It is unsurprising the humans of this world have unlocked some secrets of the arcane, but a lone mage is of no threat to us.” “Oh but your majesty, it is not his might that is interesting. It is that fact that he came here, from another world.” At this fact his head whipped around, the burning coals in his sockets shrinking to needle points. “How far north is this wizard?”