#tabletoptuesday

The bells were going to ring at any second, and Lord Hulrun was about to give the blessing. Dimas could feel the vibration of excitement throughout Clydewell Plaza. The silence that fell over the crowd was almost unnerving- he folded his wings in tighter and shifted closer to his brother, Dion. As the inquisitor was about to speak, Dimas noticed a reflective glare in his shining armor and many of the heads around him turned to the west. Before he could look, a sonic boom shook the plaza and his ears began to ring. The air was now buzzing with electricity rather than the excitement from a few moments ago. Dimas nodded to Dion and attempted to maneuver through the panicked crowd. Faces of frightened festival goers were everywhere he looked. Lord Hulrun had such a look.

“It’s gone!”

“Not the Kite!”

“The Wardstone!”

All of the different calls pierced his ringing ears, and he didn’t want to believe them. If the Wardstone of Kenabres fell, that would invite demons into the city he called home. Those cries were suddenly drowned out by a thunderous roar, and Dimas felt himself cast into a shadow. It was a sight to behold, the dragon Tendelev flew above him, his silver scales glittering as his wings flapped.

A line of flames whipped into view, and Dimas traced it back to another enormous presence in the sky. Flames and bolts of lightning covered the being's skin as his fiery whip cracked again, this time hitting the great guardian of Kenabres. The storm king Khorramzadeh had arrived on Dimas’ doorstep, a vision even his greatest nightmares could never conjure. Dimas turned away from the battle above, trying again to venture toward the stage, to make sure Lord Hulrun was safe when the ground started to shake again. He hit the plaza’s cobblestones as the tremor knocked him off balance, his arms failing to brace his fall.

Before he could try and stand back up, Dimas saw a building crumble down as a demon emerged. Despite living in a city so close to the Worldwound, he had only heard about them. He had seen two this day, and he would never forget the destruction he saw right before the ground beneath him gave way. As he began to plunge into the chasm that formed beneath him, he unfurled his black feathery wings. Using the momentum, he flipped over to look at the sky one last time. An argent talon jutted into the rift as metallic runes spiraled around him. The sensation of magic radiated through his veins. Dimas’s descent slowed as he looked up and saw the Storm King raise his sword. The sword swung toward Tendelev and Dimas turned his head away from witnessing the inevitable demise of the guardian dragon.

The fissure was closing, and soon Dimas knew only darkness as he continued to fall. His darkvision was no good to him among the flying dust and falling debris.

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When he met solid ground with a thud, he heard echoes of moaning and cries of mourning. There was nothing but darkness- Dimas silently thanked his obscure heritage for his ability to see in the lightlessness. He turned and saw unmistakable white leathery wings.

“Dion, are you okay?” he called out as he moved to stand up.

He heard in reply, “Y-yeah, I think so.”

Dimas sighed in relief and looked around. His violet eyes confirmed sight of his brother, along with a crowd of other figures amongst the fallen rubble. One of the figures was a man Dimas recognized as Horgus Gwerm, a minor noble of Kenabres. The familiar woman next to him was pinned by her leg under a rock. Before Dimas could react, a peculiar figure with hair as platinum as his own lifted the boulder. A cry of pain rang through the cavern.

“Who’s there?”

Squinting as the cavern became illuminated, Dimas witnessed a blonde aasimar wielding a morningstar approach the injured woman. 

“Does anyone need healing?” His voice echoed. Dimas furrowed his brow at the question. The man’s question would do little to alleviate the anxiety that was palpable in the air.

“Thank you for the light,” Dimas could see the questions still illuminated on her face as she spoke, “now that I can see we are all in this situation together--” her voice trailed off. She pushed herself to sit up and look around, “yes. I do need some healing. My leg appears to be broken.”

Dimas watched as the man scoured the cave for supplies and began to splint her leg. Having no training in any kind of healing, he felt useless. He looked to his brother, who he knew had to be feeling the same. Reaching out his hand, he felt his brother squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“My name is Anevia Tirabade,” the injured woman introduced herself. Dimas glanced at Dion in recognition. Tirabade was the surname of the leader of the Eagle Watch, one of their mother’s boss. “It is nice to meet you. Do any of you have any form of healing potion?”

Dion smoothed his dark hair back over his white horns. Dimas sensed his discomfort, “We sadly do not have any such potions, milady.”

As the aasimar began to answer for himself, Dimas was struck by a curious site. A halfling with plant-like features sitting atop a tumble pig. Dimas figured that he must be some sort of fey, as was the bark-skinned blond who moved the stone. He could also discern a quiet clacking sound but was unsure of its origin.

When Anevia confirmed that she could walk with the make-shift crutch, another voice piped in, “I am Aravashnial.” his voice was distinguished and patronizing, “It seems I am no longer able to see. The balor’s whip caught me across the face”

Dimas winced at the thought.

“Thankfully it was nothing more than a glancing blow. Though now I seem to be in need of healing. Who am I currently with, and what is your experience battling demons or other fearsome creatures?”

It was unsurprising to Dimas that the aasimar answered first, “I am Mikael, and I have very little experience. I had come to Kenabres to begin taking on such matters.”

Dimas couldn’t help but wonder what this group would make of himself and Dion and their demonic ancestry. It had always been strange to grow up in a town with an aversion to demons.

The haughty elf said, “I see, well I suppose one must start somewhere.”

Before any other could answer the elf’s question, the noble Dimas recognized spoke up, “Yes, yes, whatever. How are you going to get me out of here?”

Dimas rolled his eyes toward Dion, who whispered at him, “Do you know where you are?”

Horgus continued, “If you do, I promise I’ll give you a total of a thousand gold!”

“I have no idea,” he shook his head at his brother, “some sort of cave below the city, I guess.”

As he shook his head, he noticed the pair of fey looking disinterested at the prospect of gold. He was unsure of their reasoning, but instead focused on the amplifying ticking noise.

Across the cavernous room, among the rubble, a pair of giant maggots crawled out from a corpse of a large black spider.

“Little prince, get behind me!” the fey halfling declared from atop his pig.

“No!” Before anyone else could act, the silver skinned fey lept into action, wielding his strange looking spear.

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