By EM Malachi 10/19/20
The Black Gate
The sky was a swirl of colors, as raw mana poured in from the other worlds in orbit around Sosaria’s sun. Eight columns focused the magic toward a massive slab of blackrock etched on the border with runes: the Black Gate.
The Fellowship forces fought with zeal and desperation. The Black Gate was everything Brother Batlin had promised, and failure meant death or imprisonment. The cult was not alone. Humanity had other enemies, brought here by the Fellowship’s influence.
Britannia’s forces were much smaller. The location was discovered at the last minute, and there was not enough time to send a larger force by ship. Mages, weakened by months of mana poisoning, had dragged themselves from their sick beds to move as many fighters as possible by magic.
Dupre wiped sweat from his brow and considered the situation. Ashfall from Fire Island’s volcanoes made the air hot and caustic. Skara rangers and Zhah’s gargoyles rained projectiles down on the enemy lines. A wall of plated paladins held against a rush of orcs. Arcanists and mystics dueled with elementals, the exchange of magical power forming a deadly dance.
A ninth blackrock column had crumbled when the battle began, but not before transforming the lying druid Batlin into a towering daemon. He was not invulnerable, but too many of Dupre’s forces had to focus on the Fellowship leader.
This chaos gave time for the doorway to open. As magic pooled like ink across the dark surface, it looked as though a great hand was reaching through.
Dupre looked behind him. A group of mages had brought an artifact to try to deal with the Black Gate, but they were trapped across the battlefield. He was the only one close enough. The paladin looked at the sword in his hand, a blackrock blade reforged by the daemon Arcadion. What choice did he have?
Dupre charged the gate, ignoring a pair of cultist guards whose spears pierced his side. The paladin struck the Black Gate with all the force his battle-weary body could muster. The sound of clashing blackrock magic drew the attention of everyone on the battlefield before the door across worlds exploded.
When the dust cleared, the Black Gate and Fellowship lines were broken. The son of Trinsic was simply gone.
Dupre was gone.