Angir sat silently in his cell, still sat in the darkness with his back leant against the wall and his eyes closed deep in thought as he had been for some considerable time now. Without realising it he slowly slipped away into a light sleep, the young man once again finding himself within the strange corridor of his dreams, old roughly hewn walls surrounding him and grains of sand blowing through the air and gathering at the edges of the walls. This time something felt strangely different, but he couldn’t tell why, just an ‘off’ feeling carried in the air with each tiny grain. Moving as he always did down the corridor he emerged into the huge open room and suddenly the gentle gust that he had always felt stopped, making things seem eerily still and unwelcoming. Moving forwards towards where the seal always was he began to feel colder and colder, suddenly realising that he was now freezing, and his breath condensing into a small cloud with each exhalation. As the seal came into his vision he could see that things were indeed very different, a tall dark figure standing with its hunched back to him. Without knowing why Angir continued to walk forwards towards this figure, despite something in his mind screaming for him to turn and flee whilst he still could. Reaching out with a hand he clasped the figures shoulder before turning it round, coming face to face with himself - or rather a twisted and corrupted version of himself, savage horns protruding from his forehead and row upon row of razor-sharp teeth grinning out at him. He suddenly realised that his figure was not him, but was in fact was simply something using his own face to torment him. At that moment his head exploded with the sound of sound of a thousand dying screams and a torrent of agonising pain and misery, overwhelming him and causing him to grab at his head as he collapsed writhing to the ground. The figure continued to stare savagely at him before suddenly everything felt deathly silent and it whispered the words “It begins…” Behind the figure the great seal burst open and from behind it all the terror and fear spilled out into the room engulfing everything it touched, as the dark wave hit Angir everything he ever knew was snuffed out in an instant. --- Bolting upright from the floor in his cell Angir awoke suddenly, panting heavily and now wide awake. The dream still lingered in his mind, the memory of each and every detail still fresh and vivid. The fact that he could recall it still unnerved him considerably, having always forgotten moments after waking up. After a few more moments of searching his memories he could now also recall the previous dream, sharing many similarities with this new nightmarish version. Most interestingly he could also remember the word that had always taunted him by dancing at the edge of his recollection as if just in reach. “Animus” he said out loud, the word remaining a curiosity to him. He was certain it was not something that he had heard before, however it seemed to carry some kind of meaning that he didn’t grasp. He repeated the word again feeling somehow that by speaking it he might start to understand it. At that moment the loudest crash of thunder that he had ever heard resonated through the foundations of the castle far above him, the underground series of rooms rumbling somewhat. Standing he felt a strange sense of urgency gripping him, like he was on the edge of some great unknown event, the feel of change thick in the air. As he waited he listened as intently as he could, the sounds of a struggle echoing distantly down into the corridor that his cell was located in. He heard the shouts of guards, the clashes of swords and the sounds of death, all mingled together in some macabre chorus that was drifting down to him. He knew that now was the time that he had been waiting for, the time that he had hoped would come before he was taken to be executed. He moved over to the thick iron bars of his cell and tried to recall what he had learnt about elemental weaving and how to control the very forces of nature themselves. He began to concentrate as intensely as he could, now ignoring the sounds that continued to get louder and more fierce. The strain that he felt was much less than the last time when he had tried to kill several men at the same time, the method he was using was also very different, the two coming from different ‘disciplines of the magi, as the book he had read explained. Some were able to only use and excel in one specific discipline, naturally being drawn to it, whilst some rarer individuals were able to master more than one of the many disciplines. As he felt the strange sensation of the magic flowing through him his hands began to glow with a dim red light and he realised that he was already casting the spell he was trying to weave, placing his hands on the iron bars heat immediately began to transfer into them and after only what felt like several moments they were practically glowing from the heat. Pulling on the bars in several places they began to bend as they entered a more molten state much quicker than he would have though. Soon he had widened the two bars significantly, the gap between them now large enough for him to easily step through. As he removed his hands the bars remained hot for a few moments before they began to cool and harden once more. Staring in disbelief at what he had done in relatively little time and with relatively little exertion he stepped through the gap and out into the corridor before glancing down at his hands which appeared no different whatsoever. He prepared himself to cast the same spell if he needed to, wondering just how quickly he could in the heat of the moment if need be. His attention was drawn again to the sounds of combat that were reaching his ears, however now it sounded less like a fight and more like a slaughter, the sounds of screaming and death reaching his ears more than anything else. As he moved forwards towards the large heavy doorway that separated the wing he was in from the rest of the dungeon he listened more intently still as he heard what sounded like slicing, crunching and other horrific noises, all accompanied by agonising death throws and the sickening sounds of flesh and bones being what he could only assume was literally torn to pieces. He continued to move to the door, only half sure that he wanted to know what was causing the terrible slaughter when he realised that the sounds were heading away from his location, obviously whatever it was following the source of the numerous guards that it was undoubtedly decimating. He prepared to use the same method he had on the bars to make his way through the sturdy doorway when he suddenly heard the sounds of a key being turned in the lock and heavy bolts being drawn back. Preparing himself in the split second before the door opened he held his breath, aware that his own doom may be waiting on the other side depending on what was going on. As it opened he saw what was left of numerous prisoners and guardsmen strewn all around the room, blood, guts and all manner of gore spread not only thickly on the floor but also in large streaks over the walls and even the ceiling. One of the other heavy doors into a wing of the dungeon had been almost completely destroyed, part of it buried in the adjacent wall with the gruesome remains of the men who had been stood behind it protruding out. Directly before him stood was some kind of reptilian man, the kind he had only read about in books – from the lands far to the east of the kingdom, where the nomads allegedly dwelt. For a moment Angir wondered if this being was responsible for what was all around them, but he soon realised that if that was the case then he would be covered head to toe in blood and likely would have killed him the moment he saw him. The creatures deep yellow eyes lingered on him for a moment before the lizard-man darted past him and down towards the cells, a ring of keys clasped in his scaled reptilian hands. Angir took a brief moment to consider the implications of what he was watching, this foreign creature taking the time to free men from their cages despite the total lack of comradeship between any of them. He wondered if the lizard was perhaps an actual nomad spy, captured and now seizing the opportunity to cause as much damage to the kingdom as possible by releasing the prisoners, maybe he had even caused whatever was happening. As the first few prisoners started to run past him he brought his mind back to the situation at hand, turning and running out into the gore soaked room before glancing around. Spotting what he was looking for he picked up a sword, the hand and arm of its previous owner still attached, however no sign of the rest of his body presenting itself. Prying the limb from the handle he gripped it and swung it around experimentally several times, the training that he had received during his younger years coming back to him somewhat. Satisfied with the blade he turned his attention the stairway upwards and towards his freedom, and as he ran upwards he was completely unaware what was happening to Providence and what could only be described as demonic maelstrom that gripped and battered the entire city. --- Angir sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him through the streets, the sounds of chaos and death surrounding him completely as the rain battered him and the wind tore at his clothes. As another one of the malformed winged creatures swooped downwards at him he threw himself to the ground at just the right moment, the creature veering at the last second and snatching some unfortunate woman in its clawed talons before it lifted her clean into the air, her screams being lost in the sounds of the raging storm. He jumped back to his feet quickly, all too aware that in the current state of panic and disarray he could be easily trampled to death before he started sprinting again away from the centre of the city. He found himself caught amongst a throng of people all rushing together in what seemed to be a terror stricken herd of peasants, shopkeepers, nobles and others various citizens. The group was swarming into a market square, people pushing and shoving one another in their haste, determined to escape the numerous horrors that seemed to be hounding them. As Angir watched a young boy fall under the swarm of people and disappear into the mud under their numerous feet and legs, lost to his vision as more and more people flocked into the square. Suddenly there were screams of terror and panic from towards the head of the group, people that were leading the way suddenly fleeing back towards the others. Climbing onto a market stall and peering towards where the screams came from Angir saw what was causing the commotion, several monstrous creatures bounding towards them quickly, their fangs and claws glistening already thick with gore. Turning and looking at the rear of the group he spotted several more of the creatures herding the last of the people into the square as well before they entered the mass of bodies and started killing and slaughtering without discrimination, Angir suddenly realising that they were now mostly trapped, the only exit being a third and much smaller street. People already were rushing and fighting towards the opening, but so were the murderous beasts. Jumping from the table and landing roughly Angir managed to keep his balance as he rushed away from the bulk of the people and towards the nearest shop front that he could see. As he reached the shop and pulled at the doorway he cursed realising that it was locked, turning as one of the demonic creatures roared and sprinted towards him. The creature stood just a little taller than the average man, though its posture and proportions were different, having thinner and spindlier legs and arms, its torso looking more like some kind of skeletal fleshy husk. Its head had a pair of huge horns that mirrored those of a ram’s, but a fanged maw that resembled no creature he had ever seen. Its hands had four long thin claws that appeared to be razor sharp, him having witnessed them slicing with ease through many unfortunate people. His sword in one hand he braced himself as the beast leapt towards him clawing frantically at him. With a panicked but well-timed swing Angir put his entire strength behind the blow and just as the creature made to remove his head in one swift motion he instead sliced through its right arm at the elbow, black filth spewing from the wound and splashing generously onto his legs and body. The creature seemed not to notice the wound, and continued to press its relentless attack, lunging in now with its snapping maw. The force of the beast knocked Angir backwards and sent his sword sliding away in the mud, leaving him practically defenceless against its remaining claws and snapping maw. The creature left onto him and tried to savage his throat and face with its teeth, obviously eager to taste his blood after the initial struggle. A few times its teeth came within an inch of his flesh and only through pushing at it with all of his strength did he manage to keep it from tearing into him. Desperate now he did the one thing he could think of, reawakening the familiar feeling inside of him as he tried to use magic to kill the creature. Everything was happening so quickly, his body pumped with adrenaline that the next few things happened in what felt like only a split-second, the surge of magical energy leaving him like a bolt from a crossbow as what he could only describe as a small shard of silver magical energy shot from his hand and directly into the creatures face, huge chunks of grey matter shooting out as its skull exploded backwards and it’s body went limp as the shard passed through and out the other side. Pushing the body off of himself Angir panted heavily and felt the slight drain to his magical reserves, though still not fully aware of what happened. Scrambling to his feet he snatched up his sword before turning back towards what was happening. The remaining creatures had moved passed him, effectively cutting him off form the large group of helpless people and giving him a clear path away and towards the outskirts of the city. He hesitated for a moment before turning and bolting away from market square, leaving the people to their unfortunate fate as he realised that helping them would be futile and likely lead to his own death – even if he could repeat the feat and shoot another of the magical missiles he already felt as if it had significantly drained his reserves, leaving him with what he estimated only enough to repeat it once or twice at the most before he fully exhausted himself again.