The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

The first sign of the change escaped even the notice of all the assembled individuals of power, as each of the three factions began their private preparations for the ordeal that they believed to be coming. Even Randidly overlooked the beginning, fascinated as he was by the endless swirls of significance and connection that the Nether King could deftly shape from nothing and instantly discard to start his work elsewhere.

The kaleidoscope of energy was all-consuming, leading him deeper the longer he looked at it.

Thump.

The noise was what eventually drew all their attention because it was the sound of rain. From the towering edifice of significance and strange symbolism… the hexahedrons were falling. Just the ones at the edges, but they hit the sandy ground at the base of the crater with a dull thump that sounded eerily like heavy raindrops on a roof.

Thump, thump, thump.

For about five seconds, everyone stopped and solemnly watched the slow collapse. Then they returned to their preparations with even more intensity. Randidly spared a glance for the darkening masses of significance that pooled above them without the guidance of the Nether Spires, which served in the role of ominous storm clouds quite proficiently. Then he turned and followed Claudette to join the bulk of the Pinnacle Seeker forces.

Thump, thump, thump, clink!

The quality of the noise changed as the falling hexahedrons started hitting their already fallen brothers, rather than just hitting the sand. The noise was painful and sharp, like an unexpected bone within a meal. After wincing the first time that he had heard it, Randidly wondered whether it was his own Grim Intuition that made him vulnerable to the noise, but the twisted set of Helen’s mouth during the next example of the noise proved to Randidly that it was a universally painful experience.

Thump, clink! Thump, thump, clink!

Randidly’s group made it back to the Pinnacle Seekers loose circle and settled down to wait. The entire crater could only watch and wait, held hostage by the prestige of the Nether King and the danger of his preparations. Randidly used this time to continue rejuvenating his and Helen’s mental strength and also studying the other factions.

Military High Command was forming up into tight columns in preparation for a direct assault. Apparently, they were amenable to being the guinea pigs that first charged through the breach with the others observed. The Engraving Guild was having the members of its Nether Lattice ritualistically empower several large spikes, twice as tall as a man and as thick as a humanoid’s waist. From this distance, he wasn’t able to tell exactly their role, but the Nether they were mobilizing was seriously potent.

Unfortunately, they seemed to notice Randidly’s gaze and erected some sort of energy screen that kept him from gathering any more information. Snorting, Randidly turned away.

Meanwhile, the Pinnacle Seekers were the most at ease of the groups. They just seemed to be loitering around, waiting for something to change within the central area. At their core, the Frost Matriarch was sitting with her massive legs crossed beneath her. In front of her was a square, silver coin that Randidly had watched her place carefully upon a medium-sized rock.

Thump, clink, clink! Clink! Thump, thump, clink!

As the ground in the crater became increasingly covered in the falling hexahedrons, Randidly turned to Claudette with a small frown on his face. “What is the Frost Matriarch doing?”

Claudette watched her mistress with a solemn expression. “Calling for assistance. From… a very dangerous individual.”

“She… can send messages, even with the space folded like this?” Randidly gestured around. As the air shifted, he hadn’t needed to maintain his Nether Ritual to destroy the spatial walls. They disintegrated on their own under the pressure of the significance. Without the Nether Spires to keep the energy moving, the entire crater was dark and heavy. Beyond the immediate area, the group was still within a place surrounded by tight spatial walls.

“A message won’t be able to pierce through this place…” Claudette said slowly. Then she shrugged. “But a powerful image…? One of the most powerful images in the Nexus?”

Claudette tilted her head in the way she had that made her long hair swing slightly to frame her face. She smiled at Randidly. “I don’t mean to assume, but you aren’t very familiar with the state of the most powerful individuals in the Nexus, are you Mr. Ghosthound? You haven’t been here long. You can definitely say that my Frost Matriarch is one of the best of the best; but she is… part of the lower tier.

“At the top of the Nexus… are nine individuals who are believed to be the closest to reaching the Pinnacle. The nine Speculum, they are called.” Claudette pointed toward that square, silver coin on the rock. “That’s the token of one of the Pinnacle Seeker Speculum, Niermas Pence. The Engraving Guild’s current movements have the scent of their Lathis N’Gick, who is also a Speculum, and Military High Command has three retired Commandants who are Speculum behind them; I’ll bet you anything that one of them is present, or that Commandant Wick is escorting one over as we speak.”

Randidly paused for a minute and processed this information. Since arriving in the Nexus, he had truly felt like he was struggling in a morass of uncertainty when it came to understanding power. He couldn’t help but acknowledge that he was weaker, but there were two problems with that knowledge. He didn’t understand how much weaker he was than figures like Velio Dunn and also that he didn’t know how much power he would need to be respected within this environment.

It seemed like this concept of Speculum at least answered the second question.

Clink, clink, clink, thump! Clink, thump! Clink, clink, clink, clink, thump!

The descent of hexahedrons was accelerating, increasing the frequency of that painful noise as they impacted each other. They trembled and fell like petals wilting away from a flower. At this point, the massive edifice had been reduced to half its previous size. And the movement of Nether around it hadn’t changed in the least.

Randidly wasn’t sure what material the hexahedrons were cast from, but the clinking noises were like a hammer against a pane of glass that constituted all of creation. Somehow, the impacts were a direct attack on their plane of existence. The experience was strangely unifying and humbling, as all of the representatives of the Nexus were smacked with the same discomfort at every moment.

It made Randidly endlessly curious about the hexahedrons and the Nether King who gathered them. But for now, he focused on this new information from Claudette. “How many of the Speculum identify as Pinnacle Seekers?”

“Four. It’s why we haven’t just been put in our place by Military High Command.” Claudette chucked. Next to her, Narthalla continued her stoic vigil of the collapsing central edifice. The subordinate’s eyes remained fixed on the Nether King’s position. Claudette began to massage Narthalla’s shoulders as she continued to speak. “But of course, all four of our Speculum hate each other. Asking them to work together… is basically impossible.”

Narthalla waved her hand in irritation, pushing away Claudette’s hands from her shoulders. After thinking for a few seconds, Randidly asked another question. “And… do you know a man named Velio Dunn? How does he compare to a Speculum?”

Claudette tapped a finger against her cheek, even as the clinking noise of hexahedrons hitting each other intensified. “Velio Dunn is… a former Speculum, I believe. He suffered a catastrophic injury in the past. But he definitely is someone that up-and-coming warriors fear. The Frost Matriarch…” Claudette looked at Narthalla as she spoke. “Should be able to beat him, but it would be close, right?”

“It depends,” Narthalla responded cryptically. Then she shut her mouth and seemed unwilling to say more.

Clink, clink, clink-clink, clink! Clink, clink, thump, clink-clink!

The hexahedrons fell in an unending waterfall of raindrops, the former mass at the core of the crater disintegrating at a speed visible to the naked eye. Then, all of a sudden, they were all gone, laying on the ground with their sharp edges gleaming, leaving only a platform in the middle of these three forces.

The final curtain had dropped and the third act of this expedition had begun.

Three individuals were on that platform, but all eyes immediately went to the figure sitting on an unordained throne in the middle. The figure’s limbs seemed to be naught but slate-grey smoke, but there were six extremely eye-catching pieces of armor that the figure wore. Each piece was the bright, vibrant blue of the questing veins from within the Great Rift.

The figure had two heavy gauntlets with curling spikes from his knuckles, two scale mail greaves that stretched up to about knee height, a heavy breastplate covered with swirling Nether Rituals across its surface, and a stylized head covered that made Randidly think of an unadorned and stylized trojan helmet. Through the small gaps in the helmet, two pure white eyes could be seen.

The Nether King sat with the chin of his helmet upon the horned knuckles of its right gauntlet, looking as though he was bored with waiting for the forces of the Nexus to approach.

The more that Randidly looked, the more he realized that the Nether King didn’t have limbs. It truly appeared like there was only dark smoke tracing the lines from its six pieces of armor, sketching out an approximation of the human form. Yet this amalgamation of armor could be no one but the Nether King. As soon as he revealed himself, the Nether in the surrounding began to behave unpredictably and beautifully.

New eddies emerged in the currents of significance, following no pattern that Randidly could discern. Energy swirled in complex whirlpools before sluggishly settling back to nothing. Randidly’s Nether Core could practically sense a deep heartbeat of the Nether King’s own Nether Core. The pressure of that other core was incredibly intense, even with all the distance between them.

As the moment stretched, Randidly had the strangest impression that the Nether King adjusted the angle of his helmet and gazed at him, across the entire battlefield.

Then the Nether King shifted back to his former position. While keeping his helmet lazily propped up by the knuckles of his right hand, the Nether King raised his other gauntlet and twisted it so that the palm was facing upward. Then he beckoned with his fingers.

The message to the Nexus’s representatives was clear.

Come, then. I’m waiting.

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