Enderal:A Village in Turmoil
A wanderer enters the village,
He was a stranger from afar
His coat long and patched a lot,
Casting shadows on his face…
The sun had already set when the stranger entered the tavern and, without inspecting his surroundings the least bit, approached the bar. He leaned forward to the surprised innkeeper and whispered something to him which the other people in the tavern couldn't understand. With a concerned look on his face the innkeeper ordered his wife to take his place for a moment and disappeared together with the stranger in the kitchen.
Just as the wooden door shut, a mutter of voices arose. Farmers, craftsmen and merchants — for all of them, this was a very unusual sight. The old innkeeper used to be very sceptical [sic] of strangers, so who could it have been that he trusted him on sight? Who was this tall man with his long coat and his walking stick? After a few minutes the door opened and both went into the main room again. The innkeeper finally stepped in front of the people, his worries already visible in his gaze.
“I need to tell something very important to all of you.” He forced himself to stand more upright and cleared his throat. “As I was just informed, here within the village a magical displacement is happening. Wild mages conducted pathless experiments in a nearby cave, which will lead to terrible effects. We have no other choice than to leave this village.” The innkeeper did his best to maintain his upright position and to appear calm, but his fear took over.
After a few seconds a carpenter from the back asked: “A magic… what?! What's that supposed to mean?!” The eyes of the innkeeper were bound to the floor. “A magic displacement. Reality lost its path here.”
As it became obvious that still nobody really understood, the stranger stepped out of the shadows, stood in front of the innkeeper and spoke with a clear voice to the people: “Magic relies on a structure that holds our world together at its core. Some have the ability to alter this structure, to bend it and stretch it, which is generally known as using magic. To do this, forces from other eventualities are summoned into our reality. But here in this village a split between the realities was created by pathless experiments conducted by those wild mages. Devastating energies and horrid creatures will creep into our world.”
The uneasiness filled up the entire room. A villager stood up and asked the stranger: “And… there is nothing we can do? Can't you patch the split somehow?”. The stranger, whose face was still covered by the hood of his coat, looked at the floor. “The split widens at the moment, even though due to Malphas' grace no harm has been done by the displacement. Great effort by the arcanists of the Sacred Order is made to keep the displacement confined, but it will probably be impossible to close it entirely. All we can do is trying to keep it from expanding. I am sorry.”
The stranger turned to the door, stepped outside, and looked back one last time, his eyes resting on the innkeeper. “Farewell, Mydames and Mysirs. You can still all leave this place and escape a terrible fate. But time runs out.” Quickly he turned around, closed the door and faded into the stormy night.
A village in turmoil, what can we do?
The elders have chosen
To stay here, at their home
They will never go.
The young ones are in fear
They prepared to leave
But in love to their elders
They now stopped again
“You stubborn elders, don't you see
The peril can't be turned away
Follow the path of Malphas
And pray to be saved by him…”