The carefully maintained barrier in the Underrealm has fallen. The Tsol’teth and their dark tide have returned to the overland…
Deep within the earth, amaranthine tendrils flood the passageways of the Underrealm. Be it hall, cavern, grotto or tunnel, all know this simple truism: the Lords of the Underrealm, masters of that which is beneath the surface, are the Tsol’teth.
Decades of preparation had gone into this moment, ever since their victory over Tezlari-tarin in the birth of the Genesis and consignment of Falaq-maal to an ignominious defeat.
Study of the Dragon archmage’s work, and the words that would subvert his brilliant, arcane creation.
The bargain of power, made by the Thirst with the herds of Tezlari-tarin, and the designation of the Collaborator.
The Collaborator’s work in harmony with the designs of the Tsol’teth, unknown and undetected by those around.
Acquisition of that most precious commodity by the Sword of Hate. Divine essence, torn from the unworthy upon the battleground of Nishnatoba, where their path began. Its mystery impenetrable, but its use undeniable.
Acceleration of instability was accounted for.
The Dark Hate would be supported by the Meld.
A titanic roar of triumph shook the very ground beneath Balan’ukia as Ama-maalier rose to serve as an Avatar of Tlalaiad, the Genesis.
It shone in the black. A blinding beacon, a light seemingly alone in the night, surrounded by myriad others all adrift in the darkness, all together as one. Its existence was determined by the nature of its task, set down in the moment of its creation and imbuement.
In a time past, the barrier was complete, focused. A unified whole. But it had been lessened. Anchors once strong were broken, shattered. It was fragmented, fracturing. There came a piercing strike, as of a sword assaulting the very fabric of its substance. A triumphant roar of victory, an assault of strength greater than anything that had before been felt.
In a time past, the barrier could perhaps have contained it.
It was no longer that time.
The stones shattered, fragmenting into dozens upon dozens of fragments as the barrier crumpled in the face of the undeniable, an almighty earthquake rocking the ground of Sapience to hurl broken slivers far and wide across the land.
While adventurers across Sapience let loose a cry to the Mother of Dragons and embraced something Greater, the amaranthine currents of the Black Wave stretched forth to claim the Overland once more.
The Collaborator smiled.