💀 Once there was a great city; a city where Man and Dwarf lived in harmony. In keeping with the natures of its people the city was built both above and below the earth, with Man ruling those places above and the Dwarfs ruling those places below. It was a time of plenty, and all were content. 💀 Then, one day, it was decided amongst the men of the city that they must give praise to their gods for all their good fortune. Accordingly, they made plans to build a great temple. A temple greater than any the world had seen, topped by a single tower as tall as the sky. And so, having sought the advice and counsel of the Dwarfs in their halls below, the men of the city set about their work, knowing that when the temple was complete the gods would send them even greater fortune as reward for their endeavours. 💀 Weeks became months, months became years, and still the men of the city built. Growing old and grey, so long had their labours lasted, that they passed their task in time to their sons. And their sons grew old and passed the work to their sons, who likewise grew old and passed it on to theirs. Until, at last, after many generations of ceaseless labours, the foundations and first structures of the temple lay complete and they could begin to build the tower. Further years passed, as generation after generation of men lived and worked and died to raise the tower. And with each generation, the work grew harder. For, as the tower grew, so it became more and more difficult to bring stone to the top. And, finding their progress becoming ever slower and their work still incomplete, the people of the city began to despair. 💀 It was then the stranger came among them, a hooded man in cloak of grey. A man who claimed great power, who told them he would finish their tower in a single night if they would gram him but a single boon. When asked what this boon was to be, he told them he wished simply to add his own dedication to the gods to the structure of the tower. And, thinking this a small price, the people of the city made bargain with the stranger. 💀 Dusk came. And, as the last redness of the descended sun faded from the sky, the stranger entered the unfinished temple, bading the people of the city to leave him and return at midnight. Darkness fell, and clouds covered the moons, while in their homes the people of the city waited to see if the stranger could complete his task. Until, with midnight approaching, they went once more to the temple square. Went and saw a great wonder. For, up above them, the tower of the temple now stood complete, rising like a great lance stabbing at the heavens, pure and white. And, at the tower's very peak, a great rune-inscribed bell hung gleaming in the moonlight. Rejoicing then that the work of so many generations of their fathers was done, the people of the city turned in search of the stranger, seeking to praise him. But of the stranger there was no sign. 💀 Then, with the coming of midnight, the bell struck unbidden. Once ... twice ... thrice that great bell tolled, its heavy and doom-laden tones carrying far acro~s the city. Four .. .five ... six times, its beats slow· and even like the pulse of a bronze giant. Seven ... eight ... nine, and with each ring the bell grew ever louder, sending the people of the city staggering back from the temple, clutching their ears. Ten ... eleven ... twelve, and above in the sky, Mannslieb seemed to grow dimmer while the glow of Morrslieb grew ever more bright. Thirteen. And at the thirteenth stroke of that infernal bell, lightning split the skies and thunder answered it. Then, all grew dark and silent. 💀 Frightened by the things they had seen, but relieved the bell had at last stopped ringing, the people of the city retreated to their beds, thinking that come the dawn they would try to enter the temple once more. But dawn never came. Next morning, they arose to find the sky shrouded in brooding storm clouds that blotted out the sun. And with those clouds came rain. Rain that was black like ash, and fell in great heavy downpours, puddling the streets with darkly iridescent colours. 💀 Day after day, still the rains continued. And each night, the entrances to the temple below it sealed shut against the best efforts of Man, the bell tolled thirteen times at midnight. And so, as days became weeks and weeks became months and still the rains were unceasing, the people of the city grew fearful and sought counsel from the Dwarfs. But safe and dry in their underground fastness, the Dwarfs turned them away. 💀 Their crops long ago failed, the people of the city huddled in their dwellings with fear gnawing at their hearts. Messengers were sent to faraway places in search of aid and sacrifices were made to the gods in the hope of succour. But no help was forthcoming: the messengers never returned and the gods were silent. Day after day now, the rains grew heavier, becoming at last great dark hailstones capable of killing any man caught out in the open. And still, night after night, the bell tolled its booming death-knell over the city. Soon, dark meteors fell from the heavens and, everywhere, the people of the city began to sicken and die while their newborn babes were born as loathsome twisted things. And with the meteors came the rats; skulking packs of vermin who devoured the city's last reserves of corn and brought famine to its people. 💀 The elders of the city went to see the Dwarfs once more, this time to demand their aid. They told the Dwarfs they must share their food and allow the people of the city to come live under the ground with them. But the Dwarfs met these demands with anger, telling the elders their tunnels were flooded and their foodstocks had been devoured by rats. And so, with barely enough shelter and food left for them and their kinsmen, the Dwarfs cast the elders out of their halls, closing their doors behind them. 💀 In the ruins of the city above, each day became worse. And driven to despair, the people began to rail against the gods they had once cherished, saying they had forsaken them. Some turned to the worship of dark powers, calling on all the princes of evil to aid them in their time of need. But no answer came. Instead, the rats grew bolder. Worse, they had grown now in both size and number. Lords now of the broken city, they roamed at will, feeding on the dead and dragging down those too weak to fight them. Men lived as hunted creatures in their own city. And with every midnight the great bell atop the tower struck thirteen, the sound seemingly ever more brazen and triumphant. 💀 At last, in desperation, the remaining people of the city took what weapons they had and began to pound upon the door that led to the Dwarf halls beneath them, demanding entrance. Hearing no answer, they took up fallen beams and battered their way within, to find the tunnds below were dark and empty. Descending, they found the Dwarfs' ancient halls of kingship deserted, with but a few piles of gnawed bones and scraps of torn cloth to give testament to the fate of those who had once lived there. And then, glittering in the darkness by the dying light of their torches, the people of the city saw they were surrounded by a thousand times a thousand pairs of red and malevolent eyes. 💀 Like a vast swarm shaped of liquid midnight, the rats attacked. And, standing back-to-back, outnumbered in the darkness, the shattered remnants of the once-proud people of the city fought for their lives. But to no avail; their hour was passed, and that of the Rat had come. And so it was, screaming and shrieking for mercy, that the people of the city finally passed from this world. While, above them, as though in mocking answer to their screams, the great bell struck thirteen once more.