Acreholm

Tam bellowed in pain and rage and despair as with one mighty blow Valkarie severed his arm from his body, and gained the Eye of the Storm. Tam hit the ground, falling off the great tower, and landing on the outer castle wall. All breath knocked out of him, his arm severed and lost, completely unable to continue the fight, Tam could do naught, but watch, in horror, as Valkarie ascended into the sky, the Eye of the Storm in his hand, all the power of the elements themselves in his control. "I have failed, yet again." Tam whispered, tears forming in his eyes. "And my latest failure has doomed the world. All is lost."

The mage Judas found Tam laying on the floor, broken, battered, without the will to go on. He cauterized Tam's wound, and sent him through a portal, to the great city of Acreholm. Tam came out of the portal, and rose to his feet, staring in awe at his childhood home. "After so many years of wandering, I have at last come home." He murmured softly. "I suppose it is only fitting. I've run for millenia, now I must face my people, and I must pay for my crimes. Both of old, and the new. Whatever the consequences, I can no longer avoid this place." As the sun set, falling below the massive boughs of the ancient and all mighty trees, Tam took a moment to just stare at his old home. He was old, so very old, but at last he had returned home. He only wondered if those he once knew had survived the long years themselves.

Mengsk emerged from the portal into a courtyard in the midst of gleaming white. Slightly disorientated he took a few steps and steadied himself. When his vision cleared he could see the interior of a great tree, the bark was white and wizened from age. Up the sides of the behemoth's inside constructions jutted, beautifully weaved from branches arcing out from the internal surface. The experienced warrior absorbed all this in a moment, taking no time to wonder at the beauty and the scale. A soldier, one of those recently rescued from the doomed city of Feign, walked over to check up on the Blademaster. Mengsk assured the man that he was all right and sent the footman off to assist those who recently arrived out of the portal. The courtyard was overrun with people, some were refugees but most of the number were elven soldiers and citizens of Acreholm, kindly assisting those in need. Mengsk turned, conscious that he entered, and therefore emerged, previous to the woman.

Sylvia Louise Griffin stood amongst the mass of Castrians. Slightly confused and disoriented, she stumbled a bit, then strode with as much grace as she could muster she strode with the kind of walk only developed through many years wealth and privilege. She had been sitting quietly and safely in her lavish home in the Inner City. She had chosen to stay in her home rather than risk trying to evacuate, sure she would be safer. Now she'd been evacuated against her will, which irked her, even having seen the destruction of the city. It was her choice to make, and if she chose to die with the city then too bad for her. She wished Judas hadn't wasted energy saving a stubborn old woman and a bunch of other hard-headed citizens who refused to evacuate.

She pulled her glasses up to her face to better examine her surroundings. It appeared she was in a hallowed tree, and a quite beautiful one at that. She looked around at the other refugees, most in terrible condition. "Excuse me," she called out to no one in particular. "Someone fetch me a staff, hm?" She would gladly help heal anyone she could, but was more concerned with her own well-being. She was rusty no doubt, but her magic was a force to be reckoned with, and she would prefer to have it at her disposal if need be. From what she could gather, Horatio had fled, apparently without the Eye of the Storm considering the utter destruction of the city.

She thought then of her city: where she was born and raised, where she'd lived over six decades. It wasn't until it was obliterated that she realized her attachment to it. Gone... all gone. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but blinked them away. She would be strong. She continued asking around for a staff.

[Posting as Xanth]

(Far above Crown's Grotto, a very similar wormhole opened up in the sky and the dreadnought AmostGrad poured out.)

What a complete failure, I thought to myself. I sighed, sitting in my captain's seat in the bridge of my ship. My men were silent. Void of all emotion. Numb even. Most of them grew up in Feign. And now our fabled city was gone. There's nothing you could have done. I should have been there. I should have been able to save the city! I slammed both of my fists onto the control console in front of me, alarming my crew. Reluctantly regaining my composure, I ordered, "Status report?"

"The AmostGrad has sustatined minimal damage Admiral." One corporal said.

"Broadside guns two, three, sixty four, and seventy seven are out and inoperable."

"Upper deck laser cannons are at sixty percent charge. Laser cannons one through fifteen are dead."

Great. Great news guys, "Land us in the Lavishilei Docking Bay. Have all available engineer crews report in and begin repairs."

I stood up and began to exit, one of my men asked, "What are you to do, Lord Xanth?"

"Count the bodies." I said as I left sliding doors closing behind me.

Instead of using the drop, I went to my chambers and simply phased out to the Great Tree in the center of Acreholm. I came in just meters above the refugee staging area. Humbly falling, my aura slowly healed the wounds all the people around me. The horror that was before me baffled my eyes. Not in a thousand years have I seen a scene so gruesome. All I could do was spread my aura as strongly as I could. I noticed a few familiar faces from the battle at Feign. Two swordsmen, a man and a woman, and two men in hulking suits of armor. There was also a small girl who apparently owned the dragon who aggressively refused help. I noticed a woman, obviously of the higher class, asking around for something. As I approached, I figured it out. She was a healer without a way to heal. I stopped in front of her and conjured up a make-shift staff of my own will. I held it out to her and said graciously, "It's not much. But it'll do the job." I smiled.

Mengsk made his way through the pile of refugees and their assistance. Amongst the throng he found Mia. He acquired her attention and quickly examined her. "I'm am comforted that you appear unwounded." He began, smiling at the swordwoman. "Are you hurt in any way?" He inquired, concerned. Although he was confident that she was he still had assistance to offer on the chance; The same energising spell he cast what seemed like months before on the wall of Feign. "We have Archmage Judas to thank for our continued existence." He commented, attempting to comfort himself with idle talk. For although he showed collection and control in his demeanour he was shaken. He had seen the power of the Eye in control of Valkarie before he fled through the portal. He knew the legend, artefacts and prophecy much more then his follow student, Shyra. He narrowed his eyes at the though of confronting the woman once again.