The Machine of Discord: Plains of Slaughter
WarderDragon

Three nights have passed since the Warmasters of Logos poured down from their mountain holds and into the Vale of Termir Ilshen.

The Juka have long held anonymity towards the feral, effeminate Meer, believing these scions of nature to be corrupt and foul, blasphemers and the antithesis of Order. But that conflict died when Dawn buried her sword into the chest of Blackthorne, and scoured the armies of the Dark Machine to the four winds. But now the Meer report raids across their holdings, and the deafening telepathic cries of their Sleepers before their presence was replaced with grim silence.

Has the Machine of Discord risen again?

The Britannians entrenched themselves in the foothills at the southern edge of Mireg, called Lakeshire in the common tongue. A fog seemed to roll over our midst, blinding us.* But we watched, and waited.

And then they were upon us, seeming to come out of no where, welling out from the copse of trees at the base of the mount. Corpses piled atop one another and screams were cried, as the three armies fought, bled and died.

There is no word on what prompted this raid. What the Warmasters wanted. But rumors are spreading, that the Gargoyles of Ver Lor Reg, long our allies, are harboring several Juka in their midst.

* IC Explanation for how the Juka spawned amongst us.

Online copies of the Fiction and Lore dropped during the event can be found here.