Bergentrückung and the Garter Snake

[erside]

"As the false sun crafted by Havoc's own flame rests above Grimhjall, they say flowers began to bloom in red and yellow color.

If Nemea could see what became of her creation, no doubt she would weep at its horror."

---

A promise had been sown by the Gentry of the Kings. 'Shall the pest be captured, it will be cured and sing freely forever more'. A promise written in blood, sworn as an oath to honor the many years of service acredited to this one. Afterall, it were common teaching that the Eight Kings, Two Forlorn were gentle with those whom served them, and rewarding to those who succeeded. What more could have been asked for by the hero, who had won so many battles and established so many laws in the name of their service? What more could he have done?

It took many nights, but the plagues that had infested the Realms of the Kings had been brought down by a coterie of heroes, gathered from all over the continent. The Land of Giants had been saved, with the main detractor of the Black Percher being but the last one standing spreading this foul disease, unwittingly, unwillingly. It is said that an artist whom wielded the blade, coming from a land of song risen from the ashes of another, was the one who had captured the winged singer. A crusade against this plague that had taken long to finish, but finally it had. Peace in our time. Nations, standing together to heal a great illness and bring about true justice, true happiness.

Awaken, Grimblao.

It was repentance that followed. The Court that had taken in the captive was none other than Her's and Her Loyal Emissary. Among the forests, 'tis was a tower that had imprisoned the Black Percher's song, all in an attempt to fully be able to let her sing brightly once more. With the aid of the coterie of heroes, this one had finally gained hope that perhaps the song he heard would be able to be listened to again. That no matter what disease, what foul ailment or terrible curse may have been paid due to her by the Rattenfänger, she would be freed once in for all. Whence the night came to finally cleanse that terrible pain, the worst of all could happen.

Like a pied piper, the sound of that flute invaded those ears again. Why risk it? Why go so far for a mere insect, whom even the Kings have little care about? There was an opportunity, then and there. An opportunity to end that foul evil and tear down the influence of the Rattenfänger once and for all. For pestilence, must've surely come from this one insect. It were her song that brought the evils to their land, so it would be their land that would take her songs away. Upon the night to heal the Black Percher, its wings were cut off by none other than Her Loyal Emissary in Her name. The other Seven Kings, followed. Each one of their followers would take a little piece of her wings away. Then, they took her legs so that she may not escape. Then her mouth, so she would not scream. At the end of it all- They took away the last thing she had.

Awaken, Grimblao.
Her Heart.

Upon that day. This one wept. He called out to the Eight Kings, Two Forlorn... and all ten answered. For his crime of conspiring with evil, of allowing it to root within his own heart, each king would punish one of his sons and daughters. Family was important to him, afterall. His clan, secondmost. A Soldier who never came back from war, a son who never let go of his crown, a daughter that never escaped her nature, a son whom disaster fell upon and an offspring brought to death upon its first steps. This was what was due. This was justice. This was proper punishment. So that he may never raise his hand again against heaven.

In an act of rage, however, he would do exactly that. Driven by hubris, by hatred, by arrogance, the hand of this one would plunge into the sky. Into Heaven. An invasion of their courts, of their realms. A declaration of war. He was her blade. Her Sword. So long as he fought, she would sing the world unharmed. That, was their contract.

Awaken, Grimblao.

'This war is not yet over.'