This is an old lore I wrote for Vainglory’s Alternate Lore contest please give it a read and tell me what you think.
EdAWAC’s revised alternate fate lore “Eye of the Storm”
The air several miles above this arena today of all days was calm but cold. But whistling of the listless wind betrays the coming maelstrom and tension in the air. I close my eyes. Not my eyes, for my eyes, have long since been sacrificed, willingly offered to Vyn to see the bigger picture and realize my vision. Ironic isn’t it? Everyone around me is so blind, so embittered in their petty struggles that they fail to see what’s happening around them. With a sigh of resignation, I turn back to Vyn with many ravens scouring the coastline of my Kingdom. The Churn. An iridescent emerald glow and noxious fumes slowly but surely surging forward consuming everything within its influence. And people claim I’m the tyrant when I’m only looking out for the greater good. The real danger lurks at our very doorsteps and yet all are ignorant of its malevolence.
My gaze shifts back to Sovereign’s Rise and my eyes now rest upon the herald of my calamity in the center lane of the arena. A black-suited creature adorned with countless sharp hooks attached to chains around his back, every twitch, and spasm of his body repulsive and foreign. Despite his legends, the Churn-walker disappoints me. After the countless urban legends and stories about him, it would seem that he is nothing more than a legend, a horror story to scare children with. Already he has been reduced to a wretched state by Varya, my acquisition from the World Seer. Their fight ends in a flash of lightning as the creature is impaled by several spears of white-hot energy.
Vyn caws in approval at my shoulders and I smile. The Valkyrie has proven a most useful tool in my machinations, bringing the dwarves into my grasp. Perhaps I could convince the WorldSeer for an extended loan on her after she’s completed her purpose. Unpleasant memories of my former Stormguard clouds my mind but I brutally repress them. It is best not to let insignificant scum distract my vision.
I turn my head to gaze off at the right lane of approach. A dark hooded man is dueling with my niece and it would seem the Gythian is gaining the upper hand. An exchange of dark magic bolts and the luminous birth of young stars flash before Vyn’s beady eyes. Evading the numerous suns conjured by my niece’s magic, I watch with quietly held breath for a moment as the hooded man is hit by a broadside of simmering brilliance. He holds his ground and conjures up a creature from the nether. I observe the shade he summoned with interest. The gaseous specter slowly envelops my niece and she collapses to the ground.
The hooded man slowly walks up to her and looks down. How curious, even while peering at his face, I cannot discern his expression, no obvious signs of satisfaction or mercy were etched on his features. Surprisingly he turns towards me, not me but Vyn as if requesting judgment, like a gladiator awaiting the Royal Decree. I feel my lips curl into a sneer as I extend a leather arm and gestured with a thumb downward. His dark eyes shift back to my niece’s slumbering form as he opens a rift to the Nether once more and several ethereal claws seize her body and drag her towards the black maw. No pang of regret or sorrow tugs at my heartstrings as I watch her be consumed by the Nether. She had long since perished in my ambitions and aspirations.
The sudden rumble of thunder briefly catches Vyn’s notice, as several ravens take flight into the air. The cacophony of their caws almost drowning out the rumbling anger of the clouds. Varya must have called down the fury of all storms. I turn back and head towards Black Claw, the only center of calm within the maelstrom.
