The World, our Playhouse

The ground shook with a terrible rumble as I approached the

metropolis known as Rheydin. The grating sound of stone buckling against stone reverberated far in to the plains where I was taking my rest. In a curious haze I made haste, and upon arrival found the most distressing of circumstances.

Opposing armies of hewn stone stood defiantly in the

bustling streets of the cities. Remarkable craftsmanship made the beasts appear to writhe and scowl at their opposition across the squares. Everything had become silent; a deafening sort of silent where even father Wind's sighs were hushed in anticipation.

When, suddenly, a great black rock in the shape of a lawman

groaned, and lurched to a new position. Again the silence as plumes of dust settled. But the peace was not to remain, as a marble monk scratched across the cobbled floors in response. And so it continued for a long while, as booming laughter ripped through the heavens. The mortals below shook in fear, consumed with thoughts of what was to happen when this terrible contest ended. I watched from my perch in the central commons, frozen in place.

And then it was over. The great marble elder struck down

the black Arbiter in one fell blow. Shards of rock blew across the city in destructive finality. Another hearty laugh echoed through the skies as two brilliant beings faded in to existence. Moleran the Tranquil and Bregyn the Unrelenting stood and shook in mirthful delight. Both smiled good- natured smiles at one another, whilst the rest of us gawked in ignorance. And then the Great Golem of Order spoke;

'Another game, Moleran? This time, we'll use Val Miran.'