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"One sip," he prayed, reaching his hand a last time
toward the water. "Is that so much to ask?"
And then ... it was as if the world, ALL worlds, shrieked
in agony, began to shake.
Rennard found himself cast out into an invisible
maelstrom, caught up in some new, inventive torment of
the gods.
The whispers died. He wondered if his pursuers, too,
had been caught up by this chaos. Rennard stood. The
desolate realm that was his home, his prison, began to fade
before his eyes. He caught a glimpse of shadowy forms,
swords, and bitter eyes, then they dwindled away to
nothing. He heard a sound - one so out of place that he
could not believe he heard it.
"The Honor of Huma survives
The Glory of Huma survives
Dragons, hear!
Solamnic breath is taken
Life; hear!
My sword is broken of Dragons"
It was a human voice singing. And he heard a name . . .
Huma? How could such a thing be? What did it mean? The
melody drew the knight. Without thinking, Rennard moved
toward it, followed it. ...
He found himself standing in a fogbound, desolate land.
Something is different, Rennard thought. This is not the
Abyss!
The song faded away, but Rennard barely noticed. He
stared at his surroundings. Some sort of terrible upheaval
had wrecked this land. Trees - leviathans - lay broken on
the ground. What once had been a well-traveled road was
cracked and half buried under rubble. Thick clouds filled
the heavens. A mortal might have thought this some
variation of the infernal Abyss, but Rennard knew better
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