[center][h2]Once upon a time of falling skies[/h2]
[i]Set before the battle on Veradax[/i][/center]

The woods burned.

Beyond the crest of the nearest hills, smoke rose like a waterfall from where one of the thundering streaks of flame had struck the ground. The blow had almost thrown Enka and her companions off their feet, though they could not have been less than half a day of walking away from the spot. The heat had followed as a gale of summer wind, passing quickly but leaving a storm of withered leaves and fleeing insects as it went. Now, the acrid, stifling smell of burning wood came to their fine noses in distant wafts, not strong enough to choke them, but steadily growing stronger.

From the upper branches of the old tree she had climbed to better see over the ridge, she watched as the fiery roots of the smoke grew wider, spilling over leafy crowns in a spreading circle. When the wind turned her way, she could smell the dead ash and hear the faint crackling of the flames. Every time, it was a little louder. The fire wasted no time feeding. If they did not move, it would catch up to them soon.

In a few motions, agile with a lifetime of practice, Enka vaulted down the coarse trunk and onto the ground where the rest of her hunting party waited for her - her brother Woram, Jorre and Aalve of old Harro and Ruard of Obel. The strongest of their tribe’s young trackers, they had struck out eastward two days before in search of rich hunting grounds rumoured to have sprung up there since the deer had last travelled, yet still they had found none of that bounty, and now the sky itself seemed to be shattering over them. Hopping down from the lowest thick branch, she fell to the ground on all fours and sat up at Woram’s side. Her brother was pointing overhead, where more shining streaks cut through the dim heavens. He greeted her with a nod and addressed the others in a voice that struggled to stay firm in spite of the incredible sight just above.

“We’ve got to keep moving. It’s falling all around-” as if to confirm his words, another distant impact rumbled through the soil under them, “the next one could come down right on us.”

“If it’s everywhere, it’s no difference,” Ruard dissented, his face drawn and tense, “Even if we move, it could get us, and they’re too big to just avoid.”

Aalve nodded. “Maybe it’s like lightning. We shouldn’t get in the open.”

“We can’t stay here, though,” Enka pointed to the north, where she could still see the smoke towering if she craned her neck, “The one that fell there, it’s made a wild fire. It could be there before dawn.”

“I’ve heard the beasts moving, that must be right.” Jorre tapped the ground with his fist. “I say we go back. They’ll need every hand back at home, if…”

He did not finish, but the grim possibility was clear to everyone. Without further discussion, they stood up in silence and began to walk back west, not spread out like on a hunt, but with the swift, purposeful steps of anxious travellers. They tread lightly on the dry, cool ground, as if fearing that a careless motion would bring a fragment of the sky down right over them, and glanced up at fiery deluge. As luck would have it, the streaks fell wide around them, though more and more struck down with every passing moment.

At length, their luck ran out.

Something large cut the air with a roar and a gleam, and the earth sang like thunder under their feet. Enka tried to fall to her knees and hands to withstand the blow, but the air struck her like a whip of damp hide, snapping her over the face and sending her sprawling. She saw a fading black shape that could have been Woram be flung against a tree, before a flash of light blinded her like a dozen midday glares at once. Dazed, with distorted spots swimming before her eyes, she grasped for something to hold on and pull herself up, but her fingers only slipped on and tore up thin stems in the undergrowth. Someone shouted, or perhaps it was a branch snapping.

The din in her head only kept growing, but she had no time to lie there. The falling thing could have brought the fire closer, or snapped the tree that loomed over her. Her hands grasped again, sharp nails digging into the soil, and this time she rose, propping herself up on her hands. Her eyes saw as if underwater. There was no light or fire, but something enormous and dark fell down from above - and rose up again, buffeting her with a stiff breath of wind. No, she still could not see clearly. Focus! She had to force her eyes to be clear again.

She squinted hard and pressed her fingers against the eyelids. The din continued and her ears could hear nothing but a drone, but some light returned into her look. She could see the vast shapes that were trees, and the small ones that were her companions, and smaller ones still, moving among them…

The smell hit her. A beastly, yet rotten thing was close. Very close, she felt, as one of the small shapes approached her and she glimpsed a leering snout with hungry eyes level with her face. She felt for her spear, but could not find it with her fingers, and her hand felt heavy, too heavy even to rise and push away the creature.

A shout to the side. Someone - Jorre? - was on his feet, his spear held ready. The impish being turned to face him, with a grunt she heard worse than the scream, and more appeared from the shadows at the edge of her vision, closing in.

They did not have time. There was another roar of a falling bulk, a strike and a crack, and suddenly Jorre was not there anymore. In his place, a shape like she had never seen. It stood tall on two legs, but it was broader than a tree, and its arms were gnarled like dead and cankerous branches. The stench became unbearable. The thing pointed at her with a finger longer than forearm and made a gurgling, swampy noise. At its call, the little monsters turned to her again.

The closest one loudly huffed and raised an arm to strike, but Enka had found her spear. She was still shaken, but her arm was strong and trained, and lashed without thinking. The creature was itself fast, and brought down its hand to beat it away, but not enough. She felt the spear’s tip hitting something soft, and heard the squeal of a struck animal. Her assailant staggered back, and that was the opening she needed. Her legs, strengthened by fear and the rush of the fight, flung her upright and threw her away, further among the trees, heedless of the falling sky. Behind her came sounds of strikes and grunts, hooves hitting the ground in pursuit, and the churning voice of the massive thing, on and off in regular surges, like water running off a stone. It was laughing.

She ran, and did not look back.

[hider=The second part of that flight sure took a while]

Back when I chronologically left off, a band of Vallamir on a hunting expedition in central Kalgrun are surprised by Abraxas’s meteoric bombardment. As they make their way back home, for lack of safer places to go, they are ambushed by Vrog, who lands his porcine gang on the continent. Pigguts have arrived on Kalgrun.

[i]No Might spent.[/i]

[/hider]