When the time came to face Muolih the Spreading Darkness in battle, the Creator girded Itself with raiments that were far beyond mortal ken. For armor, It wore mountains like scutes. For a cloak, the shining Inland Sea was drained. And for a sword, the Creator plunged Its hand into the sands of Naïx, drawing forth a blade of meteoric glass.

Against this cosmic arsenal, Muolih had arrayed himself in armor carved from the very moons themselves, with a cloak of the night sky. He bore into battle a great falchion, forged in rivers of iron by erupting volcanoes.

They fought their duel over Naïx even as their armies clashed below. Men and elves, orcs and goblins, ogres and dwarves, and even still others who have now passed from living memory. They all died together as Muolih and the Creator’s twin blows slew them both, and brought ruin to all that lay below.

  • Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!