Few in Cyrene could pinpoint the moment fear crept back into the city,
when the shadows of their streets took on a new meaning, when they began
to feel imprisoned, assaulted by forces they could not see. Certainly,
all agreed, it started simply.

Children returned home early to avoid travelling through the city at
night. Novices scratched their heads in alleys where rats nosed around
moments before vanishing. Old wives tales were told by candlelight. Only
when those of higher social standing found themselves jumping at shadows
did the city truly take notice. A teacher and her student inside the
Lyceum recoiled in horror at the sight of a terrible, flat face pressed
against the windows, present barely a moment before disappearing into
the driving snow. Fendo Sehr'asa and Sir Daklore Le'Murzen-Sparrow
glimpsed a grey shape churning the waters of Lake Muurn beneath a
boardwalk.

Over the next few months the threat became more tangible. Thrice the
quiet of the city was disturbed by screams at dusk. A child named Otis
was chased by a thing in the shadows. A waitress at the Dancing Boar was
assaulted by a tentacled creature on her way to work, saved only by the
timely intervention of a squadron of runic knights. A call for help from
Biagio, the city's gravedigger, brought Rinzai Da'Navi and his
companions rushing to his side, just in time to witness a twisted
leech-like creature fleeing from his prone form. The man would live, but
his face was so ravaged by the attack that half the skin and his right
eye were entirely gone, baring the bloody muscle beneath.

Meanwhile, visitors to the meadow where a proud chapel once stood were
subject to a fresh horror. Surely, they murmured, the statue of
Theodelinda had worn a different expression the day before. Hadn't her
hands been lowered, rather than raised? Those entering the meadow turned
their backs only to find the statue standing behind them, or worse, with
her hands locked around their throats. The Senate took action to bar
entry to the meadow, but it was too late. As guards marched along Bard's
Way, the statue appeared among them to wreak havoc before vanishing
again and returning to the meadow.

A month of tense silence passed, with watchmen patrolling the streets of
the city at night in pairs. It was broken by cries of alarm from guards
posted at the Muurn beach: a creature had been sighted emerging from the
lake! Before the city could react, however, a high-pitch scream sounded
from the location of Cyrene's theatre. Shocked citizens rushed to the
scene to find the lifeless corpse of Raphella, Cyrene's celebrated diva,
entirely drained of blood.

There was no time for grief, as additional reports poured in of
leech-like creatures plunging into Lake Muurn. Sir Goryllin Dawyn
mustered the city's troops and scoured the lake, discovering a secret
cavern in the valley wall along its eastern bank. Inside waited hordes
of mutant creatures, tentacled and shaped like men, who set upon the
Cyrenians in a frenzy as they battled their way to the end of an
effluent-soaked tunnel. With gasps of revulsion they perceived the true
nature of the cavern and its blood-streaked walls: a shrine to Babel,
Lord of Oblivion.

Searching around the chamber, Iocun picked up an innocuous, off-white
journal and handed it to Sir Goryllin for translation. The old knight's
face paled as he turned the pages, reading that the journal belonged to
Theodelinda, and described in detail her service to Babel and her
infiltration of Cyrene. Every manipulation, every dark ritual, every
twisted word and deed was recorded within the little book. She wrote
about the leeches of Cyrene's sewers, and how she would use them to
create powerful workings of blood magic that would bring Cyrene to its
knees. All she needed was a young sacrifice, someone with promise.
Someone like Raphella.

~ ~ ~

Cyrene knew it would not be long before the priestess struck, and they
were right. A month later, the air above Cyrene rippled and filled with
the metallic tang of iron. Armies of creatures rose from pools of blood
in the streets and rampaged through Cyrene's defences, while the statue
of Theodelinda came to life and began to slay citizen after citizen,
forcing them to huddle together for protection. Into the mind of Senator
Camellio Ishida-Moonshadow came the chill voice of Theodelinda. He would
meet her before the statue of Babel within the Pantheon, she demanded,
to surrender the city... or doom it.

The senator proceeded slowly through the streets, and as he climbed the
Pantheon stairs, his expression was carefully blank. One of the newest
members of the Senate, he had certainly not asked for this
responsibility, but it had found him nonetheless.

Grey-skinned Theodelinda, the soiled priestess, awaited him at the feet
of the statue of her God. She favoured Camellio with a twisted smile.
"So, what will it be?" she asked. "Will you kneel and swear that Cyrene
will follow no God but Oblivion, or will I be forced to tear it down
stone by stone?" Camellio did not flinch as he responded. "Cyrene will
never kneel."

The priestess scowled and raised her arms. "Then destruction it will
be!" Red glyphs flared along the lengths of her arms as though sketched
in blood. Answering shapes appeared on each stone and piece of masonry
in Cyrene, and the city shook as if possessed. From out of nowhere, the
massed armies of Cyrene, assisted by the patrol of Shallamese, rushed
into the room. Impatient, Theodelinda summoned a pair of hulking leech
monsters to her defence and continued her work.

The battle was long and exhausting. Each time Theodelinda neared death,
she drained a stream of blood from one of her leech companions,
restoring her vitality. Even after the creatures fell, she was strong,
resisting attackers one after the other. At last, Camellio himself
struck the final blow and Theodelinda crumpled to the ground, dead.

A thick cloud of black smoke rose from the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth
of the priestess's corpse. From the cloud soared a dark raven, its caw
echoing across the Cyrene valley. A ripple of eldritch flame answered
the bird's cry, and from the air stepped the God of Oblivion. Silently,
Babel stretched out a withered hand to the raven, which fluttered across
the room to perch upon the proffered arm. Without once looking at the
crowd of mortals, the God disappeared, and when they glanced down, the
body of Theodelinda had vanished.

~ ~ ~

At last, a measure of peace has returned to the avenues of Cyrene. The
lingering threat of Theodelinda, mad priestess of Babel, has passed,
though remnants of the havoc she wreaked remain, and none will forget
the nights when statues walked freely and shadows heralded death.

Penned by My hand on the 1st of Chronos, in the year 578 AF.