AncientPact

Time Returned, a prologue

In the Frostfell, far to the north of Khorvaire, deep in a frozen wasteland near the fortress known by its inhabitants as World’s End, air begins to ripple and distort, as if it were turning into a thick molasses and being swirled around. Within seconds a large ten foot diameter vertical disk has manifested, shedding shimmering bright light in a dim land.

In another time, the light from this portal might have been visible for miles in the barren wasteland, or at least by the inhabitants within the icy fortress nearby, but tonight a heavy storm is rolling across the landscape, and the light is obscured by a thick curtain of snow.

A winged humanoid swoops out of the portal and comes to a landing in front of the portal, his scaly wings curling up and around him shielding him somewhat from the snow. The dragonborn grimaces as he looks back at the portal, and already, snow is starting to collect, unnoticed, on his thick eye ridges.

A lithe, muscular figure in heavy hides strides out of the portal next, his axe handle extending and forming a walking aid to push through the deep snow. "Whats this? Snow? ", the man says with a thick Aundarian accent, “Khyber blast all giants, I wanted to go back to Wellspring. Doesn’t anyone keep their word?”

Bahrash just grunts at these words, continuing to look around between the portal and their surroundings.

The next figure rolls out into the snow, two daggers appearing in her lithe hands, her pale purplish eyes growing big as she scans her surroundings. Standing next to Lithium, her pink-white bangs grow longer to shield her face and she pulls her bat-shaped cloak around her, “brrr, where are we? An ice age?”

Next strides another thin, muscular man, this one has an eye patch, and has both a wand and a sword drawn. Immediately after him, a scantily clad woman strides out, her pointed tail lashing angrily. Her rod erupts with flame with a gesture, which she holds close for warmth, “Soooo cold…” she says, her fanged teeth chattering a bit, “I hate this.”

The final figure appears as a swirling mass of darkness first, then outsteps a tall dusky elf, his walk is confident, merely glancing at the snow, and not looking as if he even notices the cold. His eyes glance across the other members of the party, he nods, then he takes in their situation, looking all around. The portal closes almost immediately, leaving everyone in darkness.

Future Theran, the one eyed half elven bard, utters a word and a soft illumination forms, enough to ease the group’s ability to see, but not enough to attract (more) attention.

Lithium scowls a bit at Brock’s suddenly more expressed elven confidence. “That giant spit us out here, can you believe it? I say we go b”

SSSSSHHHHH!”, Brock silences him with a harsh shushing sound and a sharp gesture at his throat. “Syrellishan Sar Vallen” he says softly <elven> you’ll attract their attention</elven>.

“What are you…”, Lithium grows silent as he sees it too, movement across an icy plateau, and his axe transforms into a wickedly shaped, large bardiche, almost seeming to vibrate with power.

An object of great corruption approaches

The voice is within everyone’s minds, but everyone can tell it comes from Lithium’s weapon, and it sounds Angry.

Lithium knows suddenly, from the information hes communicating back and forth mentally with the weapon, what the object is. He can’t help but say it out loud, “The Tear of Aureon”, gesturing towards the approaching group.

Brock only spares Lithium a short glare before he begins channeling energy, the intricate runes covering his face and neck seeming to slither like serpents winding around each other.

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