"Terror in the Otherworld—The Shadow Warriors" | Pale, Sildoth

Written by the Speaker for the NPCs

Sildoth stepped out of the portal and into the Otherworld. The world he had heard called ‘Ashnuw’. The same twisting, cramping sensation occurred that happened every time. Like trying to fit into a box that was for too small. He hissed silently as he stopped the quarry. Two men escorted an old man with a beard through the woods, apparently blocking his escape. The words of Pale echoed in his mind, driving him forward with a lust to serve. They slipped through the trees like wraiths, silently closing in until only a few feet separated them. The lead man didn’t even have time to scream—his last thought was surely one of terror as a blade ensured his continued cooperation. Unfortunately, the old man was too much to deal with quickly and he escaped to join a rag-tag group just moving into view. Sildoth hissed furiously and retreated brief to regroup.
Why must the Otherworlders always get in the way? This particular group seems to be unusually insistent in blocking Master Pale. They didn’t seem to realize that Master Pale wanted to conquer their realm! They resisted his rule as if they did not want him as sovereign, which was impossible, of course. Who wouldn’t want Master Pale? Even death was glorious at his hands.
But whatever the reason for their inexplicable resistance, they must be stopped. Sildoth charged into the Otherworlders with his brothers at his side. They had been sent to retrieve this enigmatic box that Master so desired, and no mortal Otherworlders would get in the way. A bloodbath ensued. Finally, after nearly all of his comrades had been vanquished and he was badly wounded he withdrew to the side, hoping that no one would notice that he still breathed.
But then.
A great presence filled the area, and Sildoth turn to see Him. Pale himself. In a moment of mingled ecstasy and terror, he fled back to his Master’s side and knelt in reverence. To be honored with the personal presence of Master Pale! Now they would see—none could stand before the Master. A great aura surrounded Him, and to Sildoth it felt like a hurricane had been crammed into a shoebox. It was criminal to resist Pale when he had sacrificed so much to offer this Otherworld his sovereignty! But then, in the height of insolence, the old man stood in the presence of Pale.
Blasphemy!
The old man—Donindor—launched a powerful attack against the Master. Powerful, yes, but not enough to equal the might of Pale. A great and terrible conflict ensued, with masses of energy blasting back and forth. Sometime during this battle a bear-man appeared, which was apparently an unexpected development. After a brief and confusing exchange between Donindor and bear-man, the bear-man ran attacked Pale! The bear-man used some sort of magical bracelet the send pulses of energy toward the Master, but to little avail. Sildoth found this profoundly worrying, but could not tell why . . . Master Pale was here, so what was to worry about? The bear-man suddenly ran for the forest, abandoning his friend.
It did not take long for Pale to subdue Donindor, of course. Pale gripped the old man by the neck and held him above the ground, threatening to kill unless the location of the box was exposed. Nothing could stop Master at the height of glory! And who would want to?
In a few short moments it was all over. The bear-man had returned with a strange box and pointed it at the Master. And what was this? It seemed impossible, but . . . The Master was struggling?! And he deportaled to the home world.
Terror and confusion overwhelmed Sildoth like never before. Master Pale . . . Defeated? Impossible! But . . . True. He felt the call of the home world and fled to it, hobbling with the last vestiges of life to the safety and security of Pale’s Realm. Pale might have been bested this once, but never again. Pale would return. And Sildoth, loyal servant of the Master, would be with Him.