[GryffonDurime]

Aboard an ornate ship in the Eastern wing of the Armada, a white-cloaked man rose his wizened branch and golden buckler, the dual symbols of his office. In unison, a choir of mages and healers clad in sea-blue and shore-gold follow suit.

"Now, oh Great Ones, we invoke thee! From the depths from whence the Zormite came, from the sun of the sea that spurred life..." the man rose his palm to the sky, a glittering crystal rose into the air. The man rose his voice into a song of spells, woven with the sages aboard the B.R.S. Aquila. The interplay of voice and magic poured into the small gem, and it thrust itself into the sky's dark cloads like a spear of empyrean fire. The jewel exploded like a crystallized star, and it etched a mystic array unto the heavens. From this sacrosanct portal poured forth all the energy of the Zormitian Empire's stronghold in the Old World: the light of the Deep Sun burst through the rain, as if to strike back all but the Zormitian Tribes and the Bellaserans.

For clarification, this is parody.