Amalgia Homepage | World Anvil


22-03-659 CO

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The Malichet blinks in the moonlight. On, off, on, off, as it periodically glistens with a warm amber light. A distant warning signal, the promise of violence cresting on the horizon.

Captain Sparrowsong has no idea how far off the threat is. All they can do is alert the night watch, relaying orders of extra vigilance throughout the remaining twilight hours, and wake the other Officers in Post. Not a job the good Captain ever likes performing, but this night they appear to have drawn the short straw.

At least they are well versed in this dance by now. The process is a swift one. Within the hour, every person who needs to be apprised of the situation has been.

In the wake of those orders, tension filters through the men and women at the camp in hushed whispers. Prayers leave their lips. Half out of fear, half in hope. Captain Sparrowsong shakes their head; there is no one left to answer the prayers of poor souls like these.

Unease spreads like wildfire throughout the land.

The citizens of Amalgia have always known conflict, their entire lives have been built on violent foundations, but a strange sensation lingers in the air. The feeling of pressure building from a source unknown to all. Something is coming, that much the people know, even those who live in relative peace away from the main warzones, but the question weighs heavily on each and every mind.

What awaits on the horizon? Is it a glimpse of hope that Amalgia may finally see an end to the wars plaguing the land, or does it herald a storm the citizens cannot weather?

Choose Your Side

Neutrality. Oh what wishful thinking - does anyone truly believe that they can remain on the fence after a thousand years - and more - of conflict? Voicing such opinions will get you laughed at. They put a target on your back, brand you a traitor to your people. But what options does that leave you?

Will you stand with your fellow Materians against a horde of magical beings, with nothing but your wit and the technology at hand to aid your fight?

Or will you side with the Dyrus, combatting your technologically advanced foes with a healthy source of magic and an advantageous longer lifespan?

A child of Materis once asked me, “why don’t you fight, Warden?”

To which I replied, “because I am tired.”

The adults around us, donning their protective gear and clinging to their weapons like a lifeline, could not hide their scowls. Yet the child… she stared at me, bewildered.

“Why are you tired?” she pressed, unaware of the rising anger of those around us. It caught me by surprise. Such a simple question, yet when I looked inwards for introspection, I found I could not answer.

For all my years of living and un-living, for the many years I had fought and the many more where I had cast aside my blade, this was perhaps the first time in a long time I had been truly stunned. So I knelt before the girl, brows furrowed, and gave her a simple response.

“Oh child, I do not know.”

— Recollections of the Warden