The comet

In the 357th year of the reign of King Murupalluwa, true heir of the Lord of Lords, ruler of the Central Kingdom, master of serpents, a comet appeared in the sky. Since its arrival, our benevolent ruler has been stricken by a mysterious ailment and confined to his bed. The comet grew brighter and stronger in our skies until it disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived. It upended the natural cycles of Tenehu. At night, its light was like that of a second moon. In its passing followed a great tide. Cities not seen since the swelling of the sea were once again laid bare, only to be swallowed up anew by great swells.

The dreaded troll-kin were said to be driven mad with fury by the comet’s passing and tore across the realm. From the north came terrible tidings, brought to Hurriaä by merchants. They told of the coming of a new and dreadful people from across the sea. These invaders were said to be harbingers of doom, and soon even the holy capital itself would taste their fury.

Gathering his great host, the Serpent King set forth with his fleet, borne into battle clad in armor as he lay upon his litter. A great battle ensued, but the Lord of Lords watches over His chosen, and granted them victory. The warhost of the sea-raiders was defeated and swore an oath of allegiance to our mighty king, resettling outside the Straits of Ninarrad to serve as sworn guardians against others of their kin.

Now, two generations of men have come and gone since that terrible omen first appeared, and just as things had begun to settle, the comet again returned to the skies—this time greater in size than before.

The news that trickles into the Central Kingdom from the rest of the cursed realm grows ever more dire and strange. Though the days grow colder, the great glaciers in the south have receded, revealing cyclopean ruins from eons past. There are tales of those who scoured the ruins in search of treasure, only to be struck down by a strange plague. It has since torn through the southern lands, leaving many villages as vast tombs in its wake. May it burn out before it reaches the holy capital.

Great and terrible lights now dance in the skies, as if to honor this dread comet. Trolls abound once more. Dark figures are seen in the shadows. Peasants tell of cattle whispering to each other at night. Many children are born horribly disfigured, and more are stillborn. Rivers run red, and men grow wild with madness.

These are dark days, and the comet bears ill tidings. Men lie awake at night, dreading what comes next. Those who sleep are haunted by dreadful dreams. Some, even while awake, are plagued by horrid visions. Many have lost their minds in the streets. Lunatics abound, and self-proclaimed prophets preach doom.

The king sends out his men to seek hope, but all they find is despair.

His sages gaze to the stars for wisdom from the tall elven towers. But the starry sky—once the one steady guide for weary travelers—now offers no guidance. Stars have disappeared, zodiacs have realigned, and in the night sky, a great void has appeared, seemingly growing in size like a vast mouth devouring the lights of the celestial sphere. Thus, all that the wise men of the realm can say is this: a great darkness grows.

Therefore I say unto you—lament, O man, for your fate, once written in the stars, has been upended. May you know it! May you know it!

From the tablets of Imilik.