Horror, Shock, Disbelief as screams cry out in terror !

The sky above Myth Drannor turned blood red, as bolts of lightning crackled and struck the ground where each void stone shard had been buried all around the city and mythal. The earth broke open at each site as a chronoweave spell dissapated around each of them, all at once. Soon the sky went black and no stars were seen, just a blackness that seemed endless.
   Mathors, and mages, solidiers and citizens gazed up with deep concern, yet still they trusted their high magics and the mythal that it held in place.
   At the Nexus, Zsalat commanded a small horde of abyssals to march into the open rift he had just spawned. "Etyal !", he shouted and gestured forward, as the heavy foot steps of the march thundered like war drums.
   The long preparations and calculations had finally come to fruition, how ever small the effect, it still worked !  Inside the rift, could be seen the interior of a city, and the green court yard in front of the Temple of the Seldarine. No one knew for certain if this rift was strong enough to allow the beasts to enter inside the mythal with out its effect.   Onward they marched, step by step, as Zsalat breathed quick, nervous inspirations, waiting for the verdict.  So much hung on this moment, so much was at stake, every eye watched. Would it end in shame and failure, or would this be the first incursion in history of  a portal through a mythal?
    The lead balor, boldly stepped through the last rim of the rift and its foot came down on elven soil.
"One small step for a balor  . . . !" , Zsalat shouted out so overly excited!
   Elven eyes stared for a long moment, faces stunned, and hands almost frozen in place on hilts of weapons. This was not possible! NOT POSSIBLE!!
   The marching abyssals came, balors, drakes, demons, and creatures of horror and doom. Every elf came to the fight as soon as it was known, and the blood was spilled, and the voices shouted, and those who fought with their lives, never knew how the battle went nor ended, for their Long lives were cut short.  On and on it went, until the portal rift began to weaken and the mythal appeared that it would survive and regain integrity.
   Few others also entered by the open rift, once chaos began. These were folks with hearts moved by the tragic and brutal ways of war.  They came for the children, to try to move them out of harm's way, and 17 children in all were ushered out through a portal that lead to a staging area in North Ride. In shock, these children were guided finally to the safe haven of a druid grove.
   But, the battle raged, as Zsalat oversaw what he condsidered his best experiment, a penetration of the mythal. It was only a skirmish, but it was done, it was proven, it was history.
    Exhausted and drained, he stumbled away from the battle field, back to the Nexus, where he ceased to even see all else, and sought to retire to his private study, for rest, meditation and notes.

The state of things in Myth Drannor was of much disarray after the battle. The attack caught everyone by surprise, and it is widely agreed by the populace that the quick response of it's defenders and the help of adventurers managed to keep casualties from reaching catastrophic figures in spite of the ferocity of the engagements.

Debris had to be swept aside with the help of treants, and alert is still kept at high with patrols and more armed forces making the rounds along the city streets. There is much doubt as to how the attack came to be, and why a portal was opened in the heart of the city.

The Council apparently is being called for a hasty meeting, rumor on the streets seems to be mostly spurred by doubt and fear... if this happened already, what is keeping it from happening again?

Nevertheless hope is not lost, for from the scars of battle heroes rise.  Some community leaders are already taking direct actions to both reinforce the defenses and to bring some semblance of order back to the City of Song. The Coronal herself was seen visiting the wounded and touring the sites where the battle took place, assessing damages and sharing with the people her concern and bringing some measure of reassurance.

Nilaa found herself facing wounded and shocked members of the Akh'Velahr... many of them had faced abyssal forces in the past, but none were prepared to see such forces within the very heart of their home. Nilaa's efforts to organize the forces after the battle and more importantly retrieve the bodies of the fallen ends up bringing some measure of order among the Akh'velahr troops she finds flocking under her command, and bolstering their morale and resolution to not be caught off guard again, ever. Apparently, Nilaa's actions seem to confer her a tacit position of leadership among the Akh'Velahr forces conducting cleanup and bolstering the defenses of the city.

Nilaa's inquiring about the portal end up sending her towards the Council Chambers, as apparently it is widely known that but a few tendays past Shadowdale emissaries came bearing warnings regarding the portals that had been plaguing the area of the Dales form months now...

As soon as it's obvious that the battle is truly over, and the aftermath was becoming clear, Shimmer shows up in Myth Drannor, a collection of fifteen children that had gone missing the night before, sure to be either thought lost or dead.

She flags down one of the many patrols that are wandering the city streets, urging the children toward the familiar, if stern, faces of elves, and going to the leader of the patrol, herself. Carefully, she explains what she saw of the attack, and how the night before she had been able to do little in the midst of the fighting save gather the young children she found in the area and ensure they reached some place safe where the battle would not see them killed.  A large bag is handed over, clinking with coins, which she explains are for any of the children that had lost their parents.

With a hesitant movement, she also hands over a small bag of gems, five beljurils and ten sapphires within to add into the money for the children.

The news of many children being rescued from the chaos of the fight quickly make the rounds across the city... a truly miraculous story of hope and compassion by a non-elf. The name of Shimmer is quickly made known, as well as the bravery and generosity of her actions and further help provided in the aftermath. She is praised by many as a hero... albeit some quiet whispers in dark places do look down on her race.

This story inspires many to help the children help find their parents, and in the few unfortunate cases of them being orphaned the community makes an effort to place them in the temporal foster care of relatives and even welcoming families willing to take them in.

As the day marches on, the Akh'Velahr reorganize with their respective companies, roll calls are made, people that fled the battle or were in hiding return to their homes and shops... miraculously the number of casualties is much lower than initial reports suggested. The battle against the Abyssal forces turns out to be more a series of skirmishes than fully fledged massacres on either side... the Abyssals slain also apparently were few in number.

This realization brings some further unrest as to weather or not it might be a preface to larger, bloodier battle; and some reassurance to the capability of the elven defenders.

Alton spends the next day sharpening his blades and oiling his coat of mail while i nthe deepest woods of the Cormynthor.

Mathor Myun Icewalker, Mathor Allifur Icewalker, Observer Telusdes, Aigessis Glernith, Eaglat Thalawen Sky Seer Yllara. You fought well, but it was not enough. We didn't have to fight, but your accursed divine hunt, your accursed Seldarine won't have it any other way. Be thankful I spared your children, even paid them a blood price as I'm certain some of them were likely one of yours.

He dons the coat of mail, and sheathes his short swords in his belt, turning to adress soem of the other Jaelre.

Don't worry brothers and sisters, there are many fool faeries for slaughter left to wet blade in. This is only the begging of our time, they can leave us be, and call of their hunt, or die. The choice has always been with them and our hands only act as they must to claim our right to live in the night above.

With that, he departs the company of his fellow Jaelre, to attend to bloody business ahead, with the most unlikely of partners.

With one arm crossed, supporting the elbow of the other, Mist watches the events unfold from the Nexus. His hand strokes his chin and his lips curl into a smile beneath his mask. His focus is not so much on the what is happening on the other side of the rift, but more so on the rift itself. He watches and listens to Zsalats words and actions as he opens it. His smile fades into a scowl as the abyssal creatures pass him. He attempts to learn what he can about the portals. Once the deed is done, and the battle has ended, only two words escape his lips.

'Well done"