Recorded Witness of the Fall of the Empire

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A councilmember's account of the fall of the Empire. He writes about the blinding light, emanating from the capital city at the grand temple. It shot across the sky, with streaks of fire and lightning ripping through the sky, destroying every single warship, Empire, Stakuthar, and neogi alike. It continued into space, eliminating every ship in the sky, cascading further than he could see. And that was it. The fighting was over, because there was no one left.

I write this for posterity, for I am afraid I may lose any last grip on sanity that I have left. My goddess. What have we done?

The battle waged over the capital city. Hundreds of hours, and a thousand of theirs. The neogi armada was like a cloud, blotting out the sun from the city below. Civilians fled, on foot and horse and boat and ship. Inquisitors and soldiers fought umbral hulks in the streets, neogi mindspiders sped through the city pouring flaming oil on the roofs of houses. A deathspider fired a disintegration ray at the temple of Azubebu, obliterating it entirely. The screams and sights of burning men women and children, of the neogi foot soldiers devouring civilians, their umbral hulks ripping men in half and crushing children. I will never forget. It will haunt me forever, until I either go mad or fling myself from the mountains to stay the horrid images from my mind.

The deathspiders would have been enough to annihilate the entire Empire fleet. The neogi, however, seemed bent on genocide. Their capital ship, a monstrous vehicle of insane design, lowered from space. Made from bone and flesh and fur and eyes. So many eyes, watching, staring, and when they focused on a target a maw opened in the ship which emitted a bone chilling scream as it spit green and black death, a beam of evil magic that cut through galleons, fighters, hammerships.

I ordered my ship to flee. There was no salvation, no hope that we could turn the battle around. Better to die at home than in the wreckage of a foreign country. I gave the orders, make no mistake about it. We hit the engines to full speed and made for the western horizon. And then it happened. I still can’t quite believe it, I still do not know what happened and I doubt I ever will. It was nothing short of a miracle.

A miracle or a curse. The rear gunner called it out. From the helm I turned and saw it, the light. A beam of sunlight straight from the grand temple at the heart of the city. It was nearly blinding, and it reached high into the sky, so bright you could see it stretch beyond the air of our world and into the airless expanse of space above. And for a moment it seemed as if everything was still, everyone halted in awe and fear and wonder. A second later there was nothing. Streaks of lightning and fire burst from the pillar of light, ripping through the sky from ship to ship, disintegrating everything it touched. Every ship, Empire, Stakutharian, neogi, all were touched, and all were reduced to ash and dust. Even the capital ship, that horrid monstrosity of nightmares, was ripped apart and burned. It maintained form longer than the rest, but it too was nothing but dust before it could hit the ground.

And the city below… every citizen still in the city, the same fate. Every human, dwarf, halfling, gnome, neogi, hulk, every living being in the city burned to nothing. When the chaos subsided and the light collapsed back into itself we could neither see nor hear anyone. Those who sailed in boats had seemed to escape the fire, but all those still ashore were gone. Some of the crew wanted to return, to look for survivors, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t go back. I told them we had to report to the king, but the truth of it is this: I was scared. Scared to see what was left, scared to see what horrors would await us.

No ships came after us. And in the coming days the reports would tell of no survivors in space. No wreckages, even, every ship was gone, only confirming how total the destruction was that day. The shipyard has been sealed. We now wait for any survivors to return, praying for anyone to make it back, but having witnessed the “miracle” I know that it is futile. We angered the gods, and they cast judgement upon us all! No more should we voyage, no more should we swim through the heavens. That is the domain of the gods! And the neogi their tool, their anger given form! The gods miracle showed me the truth. The neogi are gone, and so are our ships. Justice has been served.

All but a few. They remain locked in the shipyard. I will see them destroyed. The gods decreed it so! May we never trespass in their domain again.

Type
Geography & History
Author
Unknown Stakutharian councilmember
Language
Dwarvish (Stakutharian)

Authoring Date

3352