The scarred pirate and the tired lawman look down from their perch at the undead exiting the portal. The Elduman pirate closes up his spyglass and gestures at the portal, explaining to the lawman where they lead to. The lawman shrugs and pats one of the pistols on his hip and the pirate chuckles. The pirate captain unrolls a map of Orcunraytrel and adds another X to it with a stick of charcoal. It is one of six exes on the map. The pirate gestures at the exes for a few moments, then points to a small tower sketched on the map in the middle of nowhere between pirate territory and the border of Asosa. The lawman asks a question and the pirate shrugs.
Deep in Cantellen, the Forest Lord reclines on a throne, ten Cant stand before him yelling and bellowing in anger. The Cant are burly and poorly groomed, their beards ragged and snarled, their clothing tattered and stained. The Forest Lord gestures and silence fills the clearing in the forest where he sits upon his throne. The Cant snarl and bellow in silence. Their eyes glow yellow and their muscles bulge as their rage increases, but the change does not come upon them and the Forest Lord laughs at their impotence. He speaks to them, wrath filling his dark eyes. The Cant recoil from his words and hang their heads and the Forest Lord screams at them, gesturing wildly with one hand for them to be gone from his sight.
The Giant shamans stand before the warleaders of the tribes that answered their call. The Ancients have been gone from the world for ages and few follow their ways anymore, four tribes answered the call of the shamans. The shamans speak of the pyramid and how it was defiled, the escape of the foe, and the warleaders nod as the tale is told. The warleaders let the shamans finish their speech and talk amongst themselves for a time. The biggest of the Giants leaves the other three and confers with the shamans. They agree, the defiling of the pyramid is a great wrong, but the foe must be found and chained once more, the warleaders and their tribes will hunt him for the shamans.
Silver trees scream, exploding in flashes of silver fire and smoke, their trunks erupting into a deadly hail of silver needles. The dark haired Utenel lastborn howls in mad joy, a slender blade in one hand and a smoking cauterized stump where his other once was. His eyes glow like black stars, and lightning arcs out in every direction from him, making a ruin of Vyanth warriors. The white haired Utenel lastborn sings a hymn of death and silver trees rot into dust around him and Vyanth warriors fall to the ground, their lives snuffed out by his wails of death. The Silver King and his lady fall from the sky like comets, obliterating earth and trees and cascading waves of fire in every direction. Stepping from the craters, their eyes glow like molten lava as lances of flame hiss through the air towards the Utenel. In Serethnem, Keroen Skathos laughs madly.
The Fell Human pirate captain wanders into the Asosan town, hands in his pockets and hound at his side. He looks around, not drawing any attention to himself, just taking in the sights. He spots soldiers and a grin splits his lips, his fangs peeking out for a moment. He frowns and concentrates, gesturing at the soldiers. Mist forms around the soldiers, swirling and full of ghostly faces. Pinpricks of blood appear on the exposed skin of the soldiers and they all begin to pale and weaken, a few stumble towards the pirate. Suddenly, a huge red armored figure appears near them. He clangs his massive sword against his massive red shield and the tower symbol on the shield flares with golden light and the same light appears around the soldiers, protecting them from the life draining mist. The red armored warrior, the Armiger, gestures with his blade towards the pirate, bellowing a warcry. The pirate draws a pistol and cutlass and fires of a half dozen rounds that the splatter uselessly against the Armiger's shield. The pirate captain glances at his hound and shrugs. Hound and pirate run like they're being chased by Cenn the Reaver himself, the pirate laughing all the way.
The Goebleen with the eyepatch and shortened ear sits at a table, twiddling his fingers and banging his thumbs against the table. Pirates turned men at arms move about the tower carrying out their duties, mostly ignoring him. Bored, the Goebleen pulls out a flask from his pocket and pulls shadowstuff from his own shadow and stuffs it, somewhat against its will, into the flask and jams a cork into it. He shakes the flask a bit and squints his eye at it. The shadowstuff begins bubbling and swirling inside the flask. Very carefully, he sets the flask on the table and spins it like a top, absently ticking off the revolutions on his fingers, then reaches out and jerks it to a stop. Popping the cork, he sniffs it and wrinkles his nose. Looking around first to make sure the room is in fact empty, he downs the contents and disappears. A pirate turned man at arms enters the room and looks around, unable to find the source of the giggling he just heard, he shrugs and grabs himself a jug of Kussethian potato rum. Personally, he can't stand the taste, but it sure gets you fucked up quick.