Final Results are in and the Forces of Good swung it by 3! 3 victories. Now I’m not saying it was Robert’s fault but those two draws you stole from Paul and myself certainly played a part….

Let’s see how it ended.

Thordjin stood over Fregmoln’s body and looked at the frosted hourglass that he held in his hands. That day’s fighting had been hard, but exhilarating. It had been so long since he had felt the thrill of battle instead of the monotony of meaningless violence. This day’s victory meant so much more to him than any of the thousands of victories he had won in the past vain repetitions of that same day. Now he had something to show for his efforts. Now he had something with which he could forge a new future.

He held his trophy aloft and his army of allies cheered all around him. But Thordjin didn’t dare look up. His eyes refused to cast themselves skyward. He knew that if he did he might see the floating figure of his deity there, as he had so many days before that. Floating above him, slowly lowering to deliver his final judgement. He shuddered at the thought. But Korgaan never came. He had been suspiciously absent in Thordjin and Fregmoln’s battles that day. Thordjin couldn’t believe that he had given up, or that the blow that had severed his hand would have seriously hurt him. Yet he hadn’t appeared in his wrath that day to wreck havoc among the two armies. Thordjin tried to push it from his thoughts, but it nagged at the back of his mind as he lead his tired men back to their tents to rest after and eternally long day of fighting.

Meanwhile, floating in the corona of the sun, Korgaan looked down at the tiny figure of Thordjin and smiled. He had gorged himself on the emotions and passions of the mortals for what seemed an eternity and he had eaten his fill of their lust, and their vengeance, and their fear. Now as he watched his newly crowned champion return to his tent to finally sleep through the night and awake to a new day, Korgaan’s smile deepened.

The air deity needed something more. The prayers of the dying were wonderfully sweet, but now he yearned for the thrill of conquest within the minds of his followers. The heady intoxication that came from casting one’s foe into the dirt and knowing that he would not rise again. He had tasted it briefly today when he had thrown down his counterpart, but he wanted more.

Casting his mind into the future, Korgaan witnessed the wonders of Thordjin’s campaigns in the north against the nameless fear that was awakening amidst the blizzards of the Frozen Lands. He saw monsters struck down before they could reach the soft and weaker cities to the south. He saw demons cast back into the Abyss, which caused Korgaan no small amount of glee.

Perhaps it was time for another Reckoning. The Fires of the Abyss were crackling in the distance and growing too bold for Korgaan’s taste…

He saw tribes brought under Thordjin’s banner and welcomed into the worship of the air deity under the guise of the Deceiver and their ranks swelling to fill their devotions to him. Korgaan sighed wistfully and looked down at the figure of Thordjin who stumbled wearily to his bed. He would be unstoppable. With the power of Winter’s Hourglass, any time he made a mistake he would be able to simply reset the day and try again. He would be a cleansing fire in the land of ice and snow, and his devotions would be to him, Korgaan, the God of Air.

The Deceiver.