Since the death of their Queen at the hands of the interlopers, lost and unsure ChaosWeavers have been staggering about the city, searching for a purpose and a leader, knowing only that the seed of rage taking root inside of them will begin to grow, and grow fast.
A susurrus of whispers is echoing through the streets of Ravenloss, calling to individual ChaosWeavers and groups alike, enticing them into the shadows, where secrets and plans are being made. Passed from soldier to noble, artisan to guard, what two weeks ago was a scattered, broken nation has formed into an army of warriors bent on the destruction of those who have violated their race: the greedy Spirit and the SoulWeaver, the Hero, the Spy. Enemies of the Nation, enemies of each other.
The urgency of the whispers bores into the hearts of each ChaosWeaver who hears them. The message, passed from warrior to warrior, is this:
There is no meaning to the adage "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." The ChaosWeaver Nation has no friends. The ChaosWeaver Nation has no leader. But each ChaosWeaver is a warrior trained and a hero born. We will fight until those who have wounded our Whole are rent into pieces, good only as carrion to feed scavengers. Our race will rise again. We will take down those who would hold us back; we will climb over their corpses until we reach the AboveGround. We will take back Ravenloss, and then we will soar higher until we are dancing under the open skies as their cities burn. The battle is for our city. The war is for our Nation!
The shadows suffocating the dark undercity were once empty, stretching tendrils of inky black towards any point of light hapless travelers might dare to bring below the surface. But now, oh now, the shadows are filling, and they are filling rapidly. Filling with the sounds of a frenzied Nation poised to rage into action.
Stepping through the Gate is like walking through a waterfall; power slowly washes over you, coursing down your skin and soaking inside you, covering you in a thin layer of chill that vanishes with a POP, remisiscent of a bubble bursting, as you break through to the other side. Find yourself standing on the edge of an island in the middle of the Void. Welcome to Pellow Village, once a part of Ravenloss, but now ripped from the land it was formed in, left to float in isolation. Containing power and greed, hunger and ambition, trapping them in a place where they can do no harm. As long as the Gate stayed locked.
But all that has changed now. A lone figure hurries through the streets, pausing every now and then.
Mine mine mine, it will be MINE!
Here little undertog, hello lovely deathwidow, hellow ugly sneevmole. Come to me, here to me, feel me weave inside your mind. Remember the SoulWeaver, the Hero, and my pretty pretty oh so pretty girl. Remember them and keep them from following me!
Past the building, through the shadows, oh the shadows, deep dark shadows. On my way to destiny! On my way to immortality! No one will stop me, no one CAN stop me! The power will be mine!
The Hero is NOTHING. The SoulWeaver is a FOOL. Tainted by magic he does not understand. And more prey than predator. They are nothing to fear! And my little lovely one, she has turned against me. She would have stayed with me, she would have been mine all mine all mine, but now she is dead to me. I will take her to the Other Side and leave her there, where no one else can have her!
Aaaah, you are a funny creature! You feel like the spiders, but not. I do not have time to understand you. You will become my creature! Do you like the feel of me inside your mind? Can you feel the stirrings of greed inside you? Yesss? YESSSS? You will guard my back, too! ALL the creatures of Pellow Village will guard my back!
Down the street, around the corner. Evidence that the villagers went mad! Look into the eyes of the children. The ones who learned to be nothing aren't sad! I am the voice of reason! I am the power that will be! The Judgement Wheel will be mine, and Greed will become all that IS!
The ruins of old buildings line the streets, concrete corpses of a time long gone. Empty of life, no more than shells. The darkened windows resemble lifeless eyes, silently watching the streets. Creatures stalk the avenues and alleys of Pellow Village, eyes glazed over, entraced by the weavings Greed tied into their minds. Hungry to attack the enemies of their new Master.
This is the future of Lore if Greed reaches the Judgement Wheel and grasps the mantle of immortality. The fate of the world rests with you, hero!
The War's Going to be awesome!