The War on Dreams

By Rolland Therrien (


Greetings, fellow Celestials.

By the time this message reaches you, the Celtic gods will have reached Blandine's Tower and made their vows of Fealty to Heaven, along with Alberich, king of the Dwarves, and his court. The standard welcome is to be given to them.

Just so you know, I have taken measures to keep in touch with matters in Heaven, through the aid of select Relievers with access to the Celestial Song of Tongues. They've kept me in touch with the various affairs in Heaven, and are now relaying this message back to Heaven. Michael, I thank you for your commending of my actions. That means a lot to me. David, Khalid, my brothers in choir and spirit, words cannot express my dismay at your disaprovment of my decision to recruite the Ethereals. But I am determined to continue this quest. And as soon as I relate this tale to you, I hope that you understand why it is so vital that we bring the good Ethereals into Heaven's light...

As for the matter of the Tsayadim... There is no one who regrets my actions more then I. I begged Asmodel to surrender and return to Heaven. I actually fell on my knees and wept as I pleaded reason with him. His only answer was to spit in my face, call me a traitor to Purity and lunged at me, with the intention of slaying me. I had no choice but to defend myself as best I could. I tried to subdue him, but in the end, he forced my hand, and I had to slay him. I cried tears of grief and guilt as I held him until the end. I could do no more for him, but have King Arthur's Court return with him to Heaven, so that he may rest near Castle Purity with honor. Though grief fills my heart, I must nonetheless go on with my Quest. Even moreso now, as you'll soon understand...

As I've progressed through the Marches, I've attracted a few companions from the various Ethereal Domains I've converted. A Daoine Sidhe Bard by the name of Laucian chose to follow me from Lord Auberon's court, to serve as a Guide and a witness of my good Intent to other Ethereals. I also gained the assistance of Sir Galahad, the Knight from King Arthur's court, Cuchulain from the Celtic Lands, and Taklinn, a Dwarven Enchanter, all of which felt the need to follow me and aid me in my Quest to restore Honor and Justice in the Marches.

Together, with these new companions, I walked towards the Ethereal Domains inspired by the legends of late King Charlemagne. I hoped to rally another Christian Ethereal to Heaven's cause, but my companions and I were horrified to find the keep and it's surrounding grounds in ashes and ruins. My first thought, shameful that it was, was that a few of the Tsayadim had preceded me to this keep of good, Christian spirits. But as we entered the domain, I instantly recognized the stench of Infernal Presence instead. As we approached the ruined castle of Charlemagne (Now crucified upside down in front of it, the greatest of personal insults), I called out loudly to the Demon who's work I had instantly recognized.

And, as expected, the gates opened, revealing Saminga, Hellish Prince of Death. He had chosen the appearance of the Grim Reaper, only with added blood and gore to his form, riddled with maggots and worms. He simply grinned at me with his rotted teeth. We held the following conversation:

"What have you done here, you wretched Beast?"

"What, isn't it obvious? I've only taken a page right out of your good Ol' Uriel's own book. I'm PURIFYING the Marches..."

"Don't you Dare Insult Uriel's Memory so, Demon!"

"Oh, I'm not insulting him... Hell, I respect the guy. Killing in the battlefield or out of passion is one thing... But it takes an Artist to to commit Genocide. And I can't let YOU insult Uriel's memory by trying to undo the Purity Crusade. Especially since it would harm Beleth's word so much. So I've decided to do a little Purifying of my Own..."

By this time, my own companions were seething and ready to simply attack the Dread Prince. I had to turn and raise my hand to hold them back, while Saminga continued his rant. Though, truth be told, It took as much Self-Control I could muster to keep myself from simply throwing myself at the Shedite's throats. Michael, I have to thank you for teaching me to wait until the right moment to strike. Lest I would've fallen into his trap:

"As you can see, Saminga... There are more then one of us here. Tell me why I shouldn't just slay you here and now?"

"Oh, I don't have that much of a reason, truth be told. Except maybe... THEM!"

With that, a dozen Trolls and Ogres burst out of the Castle Walls, and attacked me and my companions. While my Ethereal allies dealt with the Trolls, Saminga lunged at me with a blood-colored, jagged-edge blade, barely allowing me the time to draw my own blade to defend myself. The Prince of Death and I dueled for a few moments, while my companions dealt with the Nightmarish Ethereals. Meanwhile, Saminga kept ranting:

"As you can see, I've taken a few pages out of YOUR book as well! I recruited those Trolls, making them Soldiers of Hell in exchange for all the Essence they can scare out of Humans... Minus a small percentage, of course."

"Are they aware that you'll slay them as soon as their purpose is done, Shedite?"

"What, and hurt morale? Shame on you for even considering it..."

Fortunetly, God must've been with us on this day, for my companions managed to hold on against the Trolls and Ogres, slaying them while I manage to deal Saminga a few good strikes, forcing him to retreat. He did leave a warning before chasing:

"This isn't over, Blackwing! You think the Purity Crusade was a Blood Bath? Once I'm true with the Val of Dreams, The Crusade will look like a Children's Birthday Party!"

And with that, Saminga shifted forms into a Bat-like Shedite, flying off in direction of the Norse Domains, my next destination. I have no doubts that he desires to recruit Loki and the Giants of Ice and Fire, to fight on Hell's behalf, and that he means to bring about a new Ragnarock, slaying the Asgardians before I have a chance to speak with them.

I have also no doubts that he eventually means to attack Blandine's Tower, with the intention of slaying the Ethereals already on our side, causing a surge of influence for the Word of Nightmares.

My Fellow Celestials, what I had intended as a simple Quest for personal Justice has now become an Recruitment Race against Hell itself, for the spirits of the Marches themselves. The longer I spend here, the more I am convinced that the Marches may hold the key to Final Victory in the War itself. But only if we step up actions of Good and Justice here, lest Hell turn all of Mankind's dreams into Nightmares, and brings mankind one step closer to its final fate.

David, I hereby appoint you the task of aiding Blandine establish permanent fortifications at the foot of her Tower, to insure protection for the Ethereals already in our service, as well as for the future Recruits I aim to send in the future. Khalid, I will soon be recruiting the Ethereal Spirits created by stories of the Middle East, such as Sinbad, Al'Adin and King 'Antar, the Warrior Poet. Your personal opinion on Ethereals aside, I remind you that they are spirits with the minds of Good Muslims, and as such deserve the mercy and justice of Heaven. Dominic, Novalis, I have heard you were now collaborating in keeping Heaven's peace. I commend you, and must now ask you to inforce my commands in this task.

Michael, I instruct you and all other Angels currently operating on Earth to enhance the protection of Tethers of Dreams, as I have no doubt that they will become targets in the near future. Do not yet begin to attack known Tethers of Nightmares until I have given you the order. First we fortify and recruit, then we strike, as I believe you've taught me. Never have I understood your teachings better then now. You once told me that every good sword need to be tempered and tested before it is truly used. I believe God has finally given me the chance to Test myself. I only hope that I'm up to the task.

God be with you all in these times.

Malakite Archangel of the Sword
Commander of the Host of the Armies of God.


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