Dark Crow Rising

Putting a hand against my eye, I rub it gently and squirm. Tonight was supposed to be my day off for once and instead I'm on an airship after a squad of soldiers dragged me out of my home. I was nice and comfortable in some light clothing and now I am back in the belts and straps. Moving some more, I loosen my clothes for the moment while we're in the dark of the airship interior.

Glancing out to the city below, I frown at how active my security forces are. What could've possibly have happened in the past few hours as to cause all of this? Did Hohhkelurn care that much about that dig site and now we have a war on our hands? I guess I will find out once the Clockwork Council chews my ears out like the ravenous, starved rodents they are.

My brow settles into a stiff line and it doesn't take much for me to notice the lack of air traffic. The pilot's comms are quiet and a path is open without an obstruction in sight. Even larger aircraft which nominally have right of way, especially when they have equally large cargo are waiting. A landing pad rises and a walkway attaches to it, the alarms of the Gnomon accentuating the erratic sprints all over.

The aircraft rocks and its doors slide open without missing a beat. Flinching a little at the change in light, I get up and hurry along out of the hangar. Wasting only a minute to get my outfit back into order, the final set of doors open. I look up at the signs and head off in the right direction.

Oddly enough, however, despite seeing some of the Clockwork Council here in a similar state as I am. The guards positioned outside of my usual entrance won't let me in. Instead, I am handed a tablet with emergency orders on it and the official seal of the Stroke of High Noon. Giving a nod in answer, I turn away and head towards my command centre, not paying any mind to the lack of everyone's usual professionalism.

It's not just us in the plump chairs either, all of my best staff have been dragged here from their beds. At the very least, someone had the forethought to set up a tacky little area to serve a most beloved refreshment. Ignoring the table myself, I click my fingers and linger a little bit of dark-fire near my nostrils. Breathing the flames in, I clear my nose out and put some life back into me with a quick burn.

Putting a hand on the back of my chair, I look around at all the screens and try to pick up on the chatter. I move closer to one of my closest men and lean over his shoulder. He looks my way and gets back to work, his fingers sprinting across the keyboard. I catch one set by the forearm, forcing him to stop when an image comes up.

Something has occurred in the south, not too far from where that dig site was, but it's also not Hohhkelurn. Rather oddly, however, the screens are flashing with a muted alarm. An observation post has requested the maximum alert regarding a draconic migration from the Dragon Coast. Yet, even more strangely, the listed number of dragons is zero.

The only filled-out detail is something about a giant given the annotation of being grander than any mobile-fortress. I put a hand to my chin and clench my jaw a little as my mind comes up blank. This is not making any sense. If there was anything on that scale, we would know about it beforehand.

Something on that scale does not just show up.

Turning around slightly, I move closer to the section of my command centre set aside for the city's magic flow. They're all on edge and in a panic, a single piece of data is shoved everywhere it can be. Stone tablets, paper sheets and pixel-painted screens. A massive blank spot.

And, looking at the timing of it, that would explain the brief blackout the entire city seemed to have undergone back in the afternoon. This is certainly worrying, I suppose I should get into contact with Suhurlodst, see if anyone is an expert on giants. Gods and goddesses above, this better just be some bad timing between two different problems. Though there is a god for them and they are made in the image of man, giants cannot use magic.

"Grandguard Inerish!" a woman calls and I turn my attention to her just as she puts her hair back in place. I glance at one of the screens as it seems to establish a connection to a surveillance airship.

"We have visual contact on the giant?" I ask and she nods, setting my equipment up while I sit down. I pull the console in the rest of the way and begin to set in the details myself. It's a dark night tonight, but, that doesn't stop me from seeing something moving through it. Rather oddly, however, the ground around it is pale.

Lingering my eyes on it for a little longer, I start to get confused and my heart stops. The mountains in front of it, they start to turn pale. Grand peaks, as old as the world is are falling apart. Whatever desert I was unsure of existing is now pretty apparent in its unnatural form.

I relinquish control of the stream and let my men return to work.

Getting up, I take in a deep breath and shakily adjust my footing. Making sure I am upright, that image lingers in my head. That black mass in the middle of a trail so pale even the night cannot trick the eyes as to its colour. Whatever that thing is, it needs to be eliminated.

Nodding slightly, I head to the post with the highest authority, "Put out the order, I want troops across the country on a war footing. Start calling up the estate-guard and put out voluntary contracts for the guilds. I want to be made aware of when we can set up a substantial defence line the moment the final body is accounted for."

"Yes, Grandguard!" my men answer and I gesture for a control tablet.