13.0

To Dirk's dismay, Astaroth's prophecy began to fulfill itself almost immediately. The dark angel had not lied about victory eluding the North as long as Zyrdicia remained outside of Aparans. Strange events conspired against every assault Blackpool launched against the South. Sea monsters appeared from nowhere and swallowed up several of the new warships during coastal raids. Freakish, localized storms kept most of the navy moored in the Grand Kirilian harbor for days on end. Unexplainable phenomena plagued each new battle along the Tronin-Camarand border, assuring northern losses on every occasion.

In one instance, the night before a surprise attack, every item of metal in the northern camp rusted and disintegrated - including all the weapons and armor. On another day, a mud-filled sinkhole opened up in the ground in front of a charging regiment. It had taken hours for them to extricate the horses and heavily armed soldiers from the muck. They had suffered severe losses from Camarandian archers during the fiasco.

There were even reports that the plague had now dissipated. All of these events convinced the people of the South that the tide had turned and the gods were now on their side. The beleaguered Camarandian population had fresh resolve to resist the invasion. New opposition sprang up in the occupied regions, as well.

The prince of the North was far from pleased by the new situation. With each passing day, victory became more elusive. Due to the infernal meddling, all that he had achieved in the past six months threatened to slip from his grasp. Once again, blame for the disaster could be placed squarely at Zyrdicia's absent feet. Damn her! he thought angrily.