As the magical storm tore my body to shreds, the blast shattered the magics holding Kyuss’ body together. A million worms were blown apart in the torrent. They fell to earth and began to burrow down – through the spire and shattering the stone of the monolith beneath.
The worms continued deep into the ground, each taking the most minute portion of Kyuss with them, leaving the god buried and powerless. As if ensuring their own safety, the worms dug outwards to create a network of caverns which would be the source of adventures for hundreds yet to come.
.oOo.
Hours later, I was awakened to clear skies and celebrating citizens. The creatures of Kyuss had dropped where they stood, and were mouldering and rotting across the city. Hundreds of citizens had stood in silence in the temple square as Janga had cast the complex spells which led to my resurrection. Weak and unarmed, I stood to raise my arm to the crowds there was a cry out.
“Glories to the vanquishers of Kyuss!”
.oOo.
The crowd to the east fell silent as Prince Zeech and his entourage pushed his way through to reach us.
“You saved Alhastor,” he pronounced with one eyebrow twitching. “You have also brought woe on my city.”
A dark muttering went through the crowd as he gestured at the lands around him.
“Alhastor lies in ruins, and I will defeat those who have slain a God! To the winner the spoils of rulership and godhood!”
As Zeech tore his sword from its scabbard his face twisted in anger and madness.
As he stood before us, preparing to slaughter us all, Flynne emerged from the crowd of people behind him, and a razor-sharp enchanted blade took Zeech’s head off.
Thus was the Age or Worms ended.
.oOo.
As the citizens roared in celebration at their safety and the ending of the life of their mad ruler, the buzz of teleportation magics rippled through the air, and the Circle of Eight materialised amongst us. They brought Allustan with them, and amidst great ceremony the most powerful mages in the world shook our hands.
Sighing, I reached into the depths of my Bag of Holding and pulled out the Lyre of Building. There was a lot of work to be done…
.oOo.
EPILOGUE
The city was rebuilt within a few short weeks through the means of spells, items and summoned elementals. King through rite of conquest, Flynne spent a couple of years as Prince, and then a couple more as Tyrant before deciding that he didn’t like rulership. His chosen system was to appoint a Vice-Tyrant to rule in his stead for a year. Successful vice-tyrants were richly rewarded, whilst those who failed to live up to his expectations seemed to meet grisly ends.
Richly rewarded by ‘his city’, and by his continuing adventures, the black-scaled elf continued his adventuring.
He joined Janga and I as we journeyed through the most difficult of planes to rescue Fez.
The tiny psychopath had somehow survived in the dark dimensions. His equipment scoured away and bound with several native beasts, we brought him back to the prime material plane with us. Turned even more feral, Fez’s skin was covered in angular black tattoos which he could move about his body to block attacks. Compacted imp-like beings of pure darkness could be formed into blades at his will and cackled as he wielded them savagely in combat.
Together we explored the realms for a year or two more, before Janga moved on to find the path as-yet untrod. I hear from him occasionally as he passes through the multi-dimensional city of Sigil, still searching for his ‘one true path’.
Fez completed his time with the massive singing spirit we had met on our adventures, and also moved to Sigil, spending his time as an exotic mercenary, and his money on his continued quest for ever larger women.
Myself? I tried rulership; I built a town on the druidic island we had returned to the inland sea and grew rich on the traders who visited. However, I also grew restless, and have continued my explorations, questing ever onwards for further tales and adventures.
That is my story, stranger. Now it is late, and an old man needs to warm his bones by the fire. Perhaps you have a few coppers to spare for a teller of tall tales?
