429 LE, Home of the Winter Lord: The Talvala
Lalorn frowned as she stared at the sealed door, hand clenched tight around her acolyte's staff. Whatever had invaded the Talvala had carved its way through the ranks of priests and priestesses and sealed itself into the Winter Lord's chambers. She'd done what she could for those of the order still alive...
She resolutely set her shoulders and brought her staff forward. "Lord of the frozen wastes, lay waste to those before me - Icicle Rain!"
The door flexed beneath her spell, but held. Frustrated, Lalorn grounded the butt of her staff and gripped it with both hands. "Lord of the frozen wastes, lay waste to those before me - Icicle Rain!"
This time the door flexed, buckled, and eventually gave with an eerie shriek of tortured metal. Ice coated both the floor and the door itself, and icicles hung from the doorway like fangs in a beast's maw. Lalorn brought her staff up, thumping several of the largest icicles with the butt to knock them free. Shards of ice flew as the icicles shattered like glass. The way was open.
A hand, large and warm, landed on her shoulder just as she was about to take a step. Eyes narrowed, Lalorn spun about and took a careful step away.
Behind her were three adventurers, their faces serious - a green haired warrior, his sword held loosely in one hand; a red haired swordsman, blades ready and attention fixed behind them; a blue haired priestess, staff resting on her shoulder.
"It won't be pretty," said the one who had grabbed her. "Are you sure?"
Lalorn bared her teeth. "As a priestess, it is my duty to care for the Lord of Winter."
The three traded looks, then the one closest to her nodded once, sharply. "I am Marith. That is Castia, and Sarril is guarding our rear."
"Lalorn."
Truce made, the four advanced through the door and took in the tableau before them. The Lord of Winter stood before his throne, one hand upraised and a swirl of pale blue power coiling in his palm. Bodies were scattered about the room, all in vibrant red uniforms, unmoving. Three remained standing, uninjured despite the chaos around them.
"Mmm, more sheep to the slaughter," said the center figure as he turned enough to fix the four newcomers with a look.
The Lord of Winter shook his head, sending silvered-green hair flying. "You will harm no more of my people!"
"We shall see. Alovin! Seber! Deal with them, the Lord is mine."
The two uniformed men stepped towards them, and Marith and Sarril moved to meet them. Blades clashed. Sarril ducked Alovin's axe and slashed, forcing the other back. Marith swept aside Seber's spear thrust and forced his way inside the other's guard. Beyond them, her Lord fenced with the third, power still collecting in his palm.
Alovin growled, axe erupting into flame as he struck back. Sarril yelped and brought his blades up to block, flames licking at his fingers. Seber scrambled backwards, fighting to push Marith back into easy reach of his spear.
Castia raised her staff. "Guardian of the earth, lend me thy strength - Gems of Energy!"
Multicolored orbs rose from the floor to circle the four of them, flaring brightly once before vanishing. Lalorn felt strength rush through her.
"Lord of the frozen wastes, blind my enemy - Snowstorm!" Lalorn finished her own chant.
A rush of frigid air flowed through the room - a brief warning of what was to come. Soon, white enveloped the room, followed by the howl of wind and the hiss of ice on ice. It lasted an eternity. It lasted a heartbeat.
The three in red stumbled, disoriented, as the spell relented. Caked with snow, with blue lips and frozen fingers, the three struggled to regain their footing, unable to see.
Across the room from them, the Lord of Winter flashed her a sharp smile, as he released the power he had gathered. "Crystal Wave!"
A pulse of pale blue light swept out, knocking the three attackers down.
"You... will not... best us!" the leader cried as he rose to his feet. "Sun's Fury!"
Lalorn cried out in pain as she brought an arm up to shield her eyes. A crescent of brilliant yellow fire scythed through the air, catching and reflecting on scattered ice and filling the room with light. She couldn't see, but she could hear her Lord's cry of agony, feel the flux in the power that was her connection to the Lord, smell the sickly-sweet scent of burnt flesh.
"My Lord!" Lalorn brought her arm down and stared in shock.
His left side had taken the brunt of the attack. Ash drifted gently to the floor as he lowered his arm, a grimace of pain on his face. Fine clothes in ruins, hair blackened and uneven, skin drawn and painfully red where it was not burnt black. Still, he stood proud.
Sarril broke the stillness. A flicker of movement and he was at Alovin's side, blade thrust through the man's chest. Wide-eyed, the axe-warrior slid down, axe clattering against the floor at his side, flame gluttering out.
Shocked, Seber took a single step towards his fallen companion. Marith took the opportunity - a single lunge brought the distracted spear-weilder down, blood spreading from his pierced heart.
"Gracious goddess, lend my thy aid - Weapons of the Goddess!"
"Lord of the frozen wastes, pierce their hearts - Frost Lance!"
Lalorn watched as both Castia and her spell sped across the room to converge on the last remaining enemy. She watched as he turned and smirked, stepping backwards as if to escape. As he raised his blade. Flicked it down. Spoke.
"Holy Subjugation!"
The world ended.
Unknown Time, Unknown Place
Lalorn stirred and cracked an eye open. She was no longer in the temple, she knew that, could sense it in her very bones. Something monumental had occurred, something that her mind shied from though her heart knew - no longer could she sense her connection to the Lord of Winter.
Carefully, warily, she rose from the strange bed she found herself in and crossed to the window, brushing aside the curtains just enough to stare out at the world beyond. Through the eerily clear glass, a city clung to the walls of a vast cliff, the likes of which she had never even dreamed of. Walkways hung over chasms, connecting vast buildings with a network of bridges like the web of a demented spider. The buildings were huge, putting even the Grand City of Yukanos to shame.
"Ah, you're awake."
A voice startled her from her musing, and she turned face the intruder. A woman, of indeterminate age and strange, straw-colored hair stood in the doorway, a friendly smile on her face.
"Where am I." Lalorn focused her attention on the woman.
"De:lahin city, on Aanu'sil, gateway world to the Federation."
Lalorn's lips compressed into a thin line, as she glanced out at the strange cliff-city, then back at the woman. "How did I arrive here?"
She shrugged. "Honestly? I don't know. Some friends of mine found you wandering at the edge of the space port and brought you here. You weren't very coherent at the time - kept mumbling something about a 'Lord Winter' before you passed out."
Briefly, Lalorn considered asking what a 'space port' was, but she discarded the question for the moment. Nothing in her training had prepared her for something as... odd as this. A strange world, a different culture, and no discernable way back. She glanced out the window once more, hands clenching into fists. She had to find a way back... but first...
"Teach me."