“I love how they do as I desire. Ruined is how they left his defenses for me. I can still hear his howling wail as I removed his nexus of power. Oh my sweet ants, how you marched and marched for me, destroying that which could have one day risen against me in my domain.” The lumbering giant of bones stood up, reared to his legs and stretched towards the sky, the dark and twisted nightfall. “And next they marched into the past, to find the truth, and to stop him from coming through all over again. It’s funny how I can remember both pasts, the present, and remember what is to come. My gift of knowing.” The dracolich settled back down to look at the young woman across the fire from him. “It is why I protect you silly little ants.”
“Wonderful little ants marching, one by one through the blood thirsty marshes. I wanted to test them, and I hated that bitch. I sent Kevarisa after them. She ambushed them during the second night.” The jaw curled into an impossible grin, the skeletal dragon seemed more animated now. “She killed one, the child. It’s father tapped into his secreted power. I watched safely, relished in his ability as he brought his unliving child back before the dust would take him. Strong. Kevarisa fell, worthless bitch, she would serve me now. After they left…I took her as my own. I have no doubt that they felt it. I wanted them to feel my strength as I followed them. To know I was there.”
“My brothers tell me they have moved south. They hunt an herb, rare and found only in the marshes guarded by some of my former kindred.” The skeletal jaw opened lightly and stood eerily still as a dark laughter echoed out from no where within the great beast. “They are fragmented, thinking too much. They worry about one thing, and forget the others. But they are human, some of them at least, and can only a single quest. In the end, that may be what saved them.” The fire began to quiver, and fade. “Bring more tinder for the fire boy, be quick about it, lest the darkness creep closer.”
“Finally, they took the bait. All of them, no, almost all of them together again. Strong, different, it is their unique mix that would save them, or perhaps usher in the end for us all.” Bones shivered as the skeletal dragon drew in close to the bonfire once more. “Listen now children, I will tell you how it came to be, that they met the first outsiders, from a world called Krynn.”
The world survived, but something isn’t right. Many of the gods are gone, some aren’t the same. Fewer care about your petty troubles. Something or someone still answers. Necromancers have taken advantage of the blurring lines between life and death.
The hamlet of Gonthel. A community long-house acts as primary staging grounds, hostel, and barracks. There, Janine and Mark reside. Cursed from the events of time past, they are un-aging. Few towns have survived in the aftermath, but the once nearly sealed entrance of the beast is beginning to grow, and the madness is returning. Something must be done.
“It’s been almost 100 years since it came. A beast from beyond the known planes, a creature of such immense power that it tainted and corrupted some of the most powerful gods in the realm. Pelor, servant of the sun, most high – dragged through hell and teaching his disciples of the dark necromantic arts, granting them demonic power. Mask, mistress of thieves, dancer of blades – twisted to turn on her own, her disciples now hunt and slay those who would steal, for only they should have such a right. While not all of the gods have been warped, those that survived are at war with something just as vile in their home planes, and that war bleeds unto our home.” The dracolich settles it’s bones against the earth, curling it’s skeletal tail about the fire as if to keep warm. “Not everyone who survived that night came back fully. You’ll find them, scarred, unliving, but undying. Forced to find their proper ends, somehow.”