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The God Unveiled

For months the Veiled God lurked in the shadows of the Glomdoring, speaking with those who dwelled within. Though they pressed Him for detail, questions were oft answered with questions of His own, and topics shifted so readily that many began to realize they knew nothing about Him. Speculation ranged as to His true identity – some thought he was the traitor Manteekan returned, others His dark cohort Blooredi. Many scoured the history books and found their descriptions did not match – but still, some hoped. With time, he gained the affection, if not wary trust, of some of Glomdoring’s inhabitants. Some like Celina, Queen of the Night, defended Him ravenously, claiming Mother Night would not have drawn Him through the Wheel of the Goloths if she did not trust Him. Others simply became a source of amusement for the enigmatic and bandaged God. One faeling Blacktalon, the young Corissai, particularly touched Him, making a gift of a wyrden battle cape that the Veiled One might feel welcome and included.

In time the tentative peace that followed His arrival was shattered, the forces of Krangar, Guardian of Destruction pressing into the Glomdoring Forest in hopes of reclaiming the Wheel of the Goloths for the Time Dame Stepasha. For days the battle raged, some remarking bitterly that the Veiled God seemed disinterested in their fight. Finally Stepasha, Dame of Destruction pressed into the battle herself, the last of her troops pouring into the forest for a final, great battle. She could taste victory and triumph in the air. The Veiled God, having waited silently to be called upon, finally entered the fight Himself. Seeing the battle greatly stacked against Glomdoring and a few of its allies from New Celest, the Veiled God offered to help in a greater way. Rising up above the Glomdoring Forest, the Veiled God drew upon the essence and energy of the Wyrd itself, calling the Glomdoring into action.

And, to the horror of many who watched from outside, the Glomdoring answered. The trees themselves began to quiver and shake before coming to life, branches swinging down to batter ur’dead knights, vines strangling wraiths and zombies alike. Thornbeasts leapt from the underbrush to join the defense of the forest, tearing into zombie and orclach alike. With angry cries the dying were dragged into the soil and treetops, fed upon by widows and trees and thornbeasts. In the swamps the oozes piled onto the ur’dead, dragging them beneath the waters and dissolving them into swamp muck. Zombies were yanked beneath the waters and fed upon by the furious Swampghast, vines pressing through any orifice they could find, tearing apart the undead from the inside, showering the forest in their blood. Harpies dove from the sky and tore into wraith and zombie and ur’dead alike, swarms of the shrieking females ripping and tearing eagerly into their next meal. Beneath the forest, in the tunnels, the loamdores fought to defend their home. In groups they piled onto the undead and drove them into the cavern floors, smothering them and forcing them beneath dirt and soil and stone. The walls smashed forward with malevolent and deliberate action, battering armoured ur’dead knights like toys and smashing them into puddles of twisted metal, meat and blood.

Many stood in shock, within and without of the Glomdoring. No matter their beliefs to point, all know one thing for certain – this Veiled God with no name was deeply connected with the Wyrd, and like none before Him, the Wyrd answered and obeyed His call.

Glomdoring, rallied by their forest and the fury of this enigmatic god, hacked and cut their way through the undead, meeting Krangar, Guardian of Destruction in the swamps of the Glomdoring Forest. Several times they came upon the Veiled God and Stepasha, Dame of Destruction matched in a pitched battle, hacking, slashing and scourging one another with blade, scythe and energy, their battleground the entire forest, and several times their battle drew them near Krangar and his knights. Still, the Veiled God pressed His advantage, holding off Stepasha while those of the Wyrd, lead by Xenthos and Tacita, finally bested Krangar, taking his corpse and seeking out the Veiled God. With the death of Krangar, Stepasha fled, her controlled and deliberate force of undead horrors becoming a frenzied mayhem of madness and hunger, no longer of use to her.

Channeling bright and healing energies, the Veiled God freed the spirit of Krangar from Stepasha’s control, though stopping as He reached the shadowy, raging spirit of the undead orclach. Releasing the ur’dead guardian, the Veiled God blew him from the forest, free to reform as a lich and resume his service to the ur’Guard of Shallach. This done, the Veiled God turned to those gathered of the Glomdoring, and it was Xenthos who spoke next.

For days, he had said, he had been strangely afflicted. It was as though existence itself was beginning to refuse him, pushing at him, pulling at him, flowing about him – almost forgetting about him, denying him a place in time any longer. Tacita Shee-Slaugh had grown worried, several times having watched her betrothed fade from existence briefly, and tears began to edge her eyes. “I do,” answered the Veiled God, and with a tug at the bandages obscuring His face, unveiled Himself for all to see.

His eyes matching Xenthos’, the unveiled god’s voice was soft and almost apologetic, but inclusive. “It is because we exist,” said Xynthin, the Ascended God.

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