[Anomaly]

All of nature rages as dust and blood floods the atmosphere. The discharges of crimson ion energy from the Floating Fortress defense system is joined by the brilliant blue white bolts of natural lightning that dance from cloud to darkening cloud. Yet, even with the howl of wind mixing with the roar of battle, no rain falls. It is an omen from the gods that this is a good day to shed blood and not tears, a fine day to battle, without regret.

Guthrum arrives at the western edge of the floating fortress. The precipice on which he stands gives a peerless view of the carnage below. So many lives snuffed out. It is glorious. Behind him, a sudden change takes place about the Fortress walls. It's almost as if they melt away, replaced by an endless green maze of leaves and bramble. Roses, by many names and in many hues, smelling sweetly blossom before his eyes. Though thorns curl cruelly from the leafy walls it appears as though The Masters are inviting him in.

Without a second thought, Guthrum charges forward, ripping through the walls of plant, scattering roses petals and leaving them in shattered ruins in his wake. A flight of harpies, excited by this display and the possibility of fresh prey follows in behind him. As they try to fly through the twisting branches, tendrils explode from the hedges and snare them, digging into their putrid flesh. They drag them to the earth where they quickly disappear from sight as, screeching profanities, they are lost in the living wall that closes behind Guthrum...as if to say this one man would be tolerated...but no more. This one morsel of flesh.
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Peace. With all the chaos swirling outside, it is bizarre to find such incredible, all encompassing peace here. Yet that is how it has always been in this clearing in the heart of the realm of the Pillar of Nature. Perhaps that is why it is known as the Mother's Womb? Then again, it could be the primordial wetlands, warm with life that swell all about the clearing. The chirping of birds, the whine of insects, and the wet slithering of creatures wriggling through the mire mixes soothingly with the calm wind in the trees. The only thing that somewhat mars this paradise is the central Keep of the floating fortress that haunts the horizon. A twisted reminder that though nature is welcome here it can easily be swept aside by the force that shaped this island in the clouds.

Yet apparently oblivious to this looming monolith, and just as oblivious to the war raging just beyond the borders of her land, Aun Chori entertains herself skipping stones on the surface of the primordial waters. The peace of this place must have infected her, for even with the sure knowledge that her enemy is closing on her, she seems not to have a care in the world. There is even a smile on her cute little face. With a splash, the peaceful smile falters for a moment, before re-asserting itself. He is already here. Aun Chori turns, and faces the man who is knee deep in the muck that surrounds her clearing. If anything, her smile brightens. Her eyes flash like a kittens who has just laid eyes on a new toy. This was going to be fun.