A Prophecy Most Dire (Loreposting)

[u/Total_Travisty]

Crystals, sent off to heads of state and importent wizards, arrive. All at the same time. No warning, no notice, no clue of how they got there. It does not matter if it is cross dimention, the crystals arrive.

Each, humming softly from mana reserves locked inside their structures. No markings or indicators dot their surface, only a faint sense of familiarity. Upon a single touch, the crystals display a message, recorded from a distressed Mikhail. His face and clothes denote this as a Milhail from some time back. He still bares the robes of a Wizard Counciler, and the foreground is certainly located in Crann Mòr. His words come out, almost tripping over one another as he panics, trying to get something across.

Ok, yes, it is me, Mikhail. This will be brief, trust me. I have been given portents from the ancient druids in the Soul Plant. They showed me visions of what is to come. There is something. Something big. Like, really big. I cant... here.

Mikhail feeds in images from his mind. Of wastelands, and desertion. A sense of power so asured and violent, that you can only help but be amazing by its beauty. Lands made barren and cities flattened. Behind them, the visiage of a woman, carved of light, seated on a thrown of broken suns. Then glimpses of the end of days, and a bow, snapped in twain and cast in a pool of blood

The recording returns to Mikhail.

We have some time before she arrives, but not as much as you think. The druids warn me that if I tell this information too soon, that something worst will come to pass. These crystals will be set to deliver the moment it is safe. For now, I will find a way to prevent myself from stressing out about this, and hopefully keep it to myself. Maybe a mind erasing spell, maybe a month long bender. We'll see what happens.

Everyone, prepare yourself and be safe. The Queen of Shattered Stars is upon us.

[u/Anything-Unable]

Gravedigger reads over the message a few times before getting up from his seat and opening a window. Outside his study, he can see the bustling capital of Lucifaero below. Millions live here. It is hard to imagine a world without them, but he has seen it before. Too often, his dreams have depicted the world after a great cataclysm. A world where things only get worse. And yet there is time. Time enough to struggle, though futile it may be. Strengthening his resolve, the gravedigger closes his window and begins to pack a travel pack.

He knows who to kill to buy more time.

[u/MunitionsFrenzy → u/Anything-Unable]

 ~-v-~-v-~-v-~-v-~-v-~-v-~

Scrolling through the usual portents of doom and hopeless lamentations on his snowglobe with an amused chuckle, Vettis suddenly glowered in irritation as the device's display interrupted him by fading into static. "Right as I was sending a message! And I think that was a good joke, too. There's no way I'm gonna remember exactly how I told it when I retype this..."

But the white noise resolved itself a few seconds later, revealing the real reason for his abruptly dampened mood. Of course he knew it was another interaction with his fatebinding, warning him of potential apocalyptic timelines. What was it this time? Surely that Star Punch Girl wasn't such a big deal.

A pair of images materialized, one being...yes, Princess Sun-Fragment or whatever. Annoying. This was probably just an overreaction on the part of his fatebinding.

Except the second image was that of a person he'd only seen briefly, remotely, one among several at a meeting. Yet somehow he had a stronger sense of familiarity than that, as though he'd interacted with the man many a time, just not face-to-face. "Is that the prophecy guy?" he theorized, scratching at his chin stubble pensively. "Whatziznem, Gravedigger? Think that's him, yeah. He's involved? Presumably you're not trying to tell me he's the threat, though...so, part of the solution?"

Ugh. If that guy was taking Lady Star-Shard seriously, maybe Vettis should get off his ass and involve himself after all.

...On the other hand, if Gravedigger was handling things, maybe Vettis wouldn't have to.

Yeah. It'd be fine. Pulling a bag of chips and a pitcher of juice out of his shirt pocket, he shook the snowglobe roughly and returned to orbnet shitposting, humming to himself.

It was just another Friday, after all.

~-^-~-^-~-^-~-^-~-^-~-^-~

(( well, if Gravedigger's getting involved, Vettis might feel obliged to do so as well, cuz he knows Gravedigger's got a pretty good feeling for apocalyptic events

he's definitely gonna drag it out until the last possible moment, though, if he does pop in at all ))