His Majesty Alak Speaks on the Iron Sky‑Vessel of Mur Harbor
Set down by Eleawen Galadriel Glewenithiel, humble chronicler of the Realm
In these unsettled days, when strange wonders walk our shores and the mists of Mur Harbor whisper of realms beyond mortal ken, I was granted the rare honour of an audience with His Majesty Alak Averruncus‑Maeviir, sovereign of Durakiss and keeper of the Arches.
For upon the stony quay of Mur Harbor lies a marvel most dire and wondrous: a great iron craft with wings of blackened steel, folded like the limbs of some slumbering sky‑beast. A lone warden of the Consortium stands before it, silent as a grave‑statue, guarding crates that hum with inner fire and devices wrought of no craft known to our smiths or mages.
When I asked His Majesty of this strange apparition, he spoke with the weight of many years:
“Long have we known we are not alone. Other planes, other worlds, lie beyond our sight.”
He reminded me that the Arches and the Consortium have long been at odds, yet the tides of fate have shifted, and darker storms rise upon the horizon.
When pressed upon the meaning of this iron sky‑vessel, His Majesty answered with measured caution:
“Mayhap not a true alliance… yet perchance a lasting peace. But let no man lower his guard, for new perils gather in the far distance.”
No soldiers of the Consortium were seen near the vessel, nor any sign of hostile intent. This alone has stirred whispers of uneasy hope.
When I inquired whether the vessel bore the mark of the Consortium, His Majesty confirmed:
“Aye. I have beheld such sky‑ships before, in the lands of Antebellum.”
Thus the mystery deepens, for if this craft is theirs, why send it in silence? And if it is not, what power commands such iron wings?
As our audience drew to its end, I asked His Majesty what message this sky‑fallen craft might bear.
He answered:
“I know not. Yet perhaps, in days to come, we shall find a path of concord with those once counted as foes.”
Thus stands the matter: a silent vessel of iron, a mute guardian, and wonders that defy the wisdom of our age.
The people murmur. The mages ponder. The King counsels vigilance.
And I, Eleawen Galadriel Glewenithiel, shall continue to bear witness for the folk of Archeterre.