The First of Many, Eisenstein Options

[sonof]

Above Meldar's Keep a familiar figure floated, white frock coat and blood red tabard shifting in a wind that only he felt. Around him a collection of other Circle ritualists (also floating of course; rituals on the ground were far less dramatic) continued to weave and prepare the components and varied sources of power required for an act of ritual mastery this substantial.

Flexing his fingers, Sonasello began, and the other ritualists backed off except one, Maxim, who stood before the vampire, back straight, no sense of fear.

Sonasello traced runes of ancient power in the air, artefacts crumbling around him as the power was leeched out of them. Silently he balled his fists, a nimbus of primal energy humming around them and tilted his head back, looking into the sky. His senses were enhanced far beyond normal and he could see, traced into the clouds the tears. The weaknesses above his beloved world. The cracks through which maddness and chaos and Ruin crept, but sometimes swept in.

Focusing back on the moment, and without a sound he sprung his fingers wide open allowing the power to flow through Maxim, whose whole body stiffened and convulsed as tendrils of ritual magik shot downwards into the land itself, like chains, forming a perfect Circle on the ground.

Sonasello looked up once more, as the power faded from his body. The cracks were closing. He breathed (old habits die hard) a sigh of satisfaction and smiled as he and Maxim drifted back down to the ground.

The fabric of Primal reality in Eisenstein had now been strengthened further, and more importantly, safeguarded against future deterioration. The damage of the Chaos wars was now repaired thanks to the allies that had come together to fix the echoes.

And this... this was just the beginning.