Izurich
Timemaster
odium
Chrys
Vertigo
Lurking Krog
MrSkimobile
Product
Expendable
TheyraIn the Belly of the Beast
The Warden remains in the center of the room, motionless. A few of you speak to her, but if she notices, she gives no sign. once you've all awakened, she stars to speak. Her voice cannot be properly described. It sounds like the ice cracking beneath your feet, like the blade rasping against your ribs, like your home burning in the night. Most of all, it sounds like something not of this world. You can understand the words, somehow, but you know deep down that they aren't uttered in any tongue you speak. Other than fear, perhaps.
To the near east lies the land of Sulfrey, the Warden says, a rich and powerful land, ruled by the God-King Ael-Gol who is a loved as he is feared. Sulfrey has long acted as the bulwark of the east, putting a stop to the raids and invasions of the barbarian hordes from beyond the edges of civilization. They have been very successful in this, and have because of it enjoyed a long and lasting peace with the Westerlands.
Images flash before your eyes; armies of knights with horned helmets, vast cities centered around pyramidesque temples, throngs of people cheering and raising their hands to the sky as a procession passes through the streets, a horned knight riding on a great winged lizard routing a horde of primitive barbarian warriors, and the lastly, an image of a tall and slender man in a beautiful golden mask. The man is both wonderful and terrible to behold; the sort of entity that would and could make you die for it. The face of the mask is locked in an eternal half-smile, and there are no slits for the eyes, but the hairs on your neck starts to stand up as you realize that he is looking at you, that he knows and waits, and that he smiles with anticipation.
The problem is, however, the Warden continues, that they have become too successful. Too powerful. The easterling hordes are all but spent at this point, humbled by the forces of Sulfrey. Many barbarians have taken up worship of this false god and are spreading the faith further still. It will not be long until its influence finds its way westward, and with it, armies of horned knights. The King has decreed that this cannot be allowed to continue. I have been tasked with solving the situation, and so, I am tasking you.
Suddenly, the Warden turns to face you. The very motion is unpleasant, as if she suddenly snaps from one position to the next with a strange resistance to the fluidity of the turn as if reality tries but fails to hold her in place. She doesn't approach you, but somehow it seems like she is getting closer. Her eyes - those bottomless pits of horrid darkness - stare right at you, into you, through you. When she contiues speaking, you notice that her lips aren't moving. The sound of her voice comes from within. She's in your mind!
Your mission is threefold, the Wardens voice whispers in your mind, There are advance agents already in place in Sulfrey. We have however not heard from them for over a month. Their last known place of residence is the Golden Chalice, a tavern in the city of Malasta. Your first mission is to make rendezvouz with the agents. They are three in total; Tristana, Yorleif and Nashur. Your second mission is to learn of their findings and plans, and enact them. If you suspect that any or all of them have been in any way compromized, you are to kill them. Your third and final mission is to infiltrate the court of the false God-King and slay Ael-Gol.
The visions flood your mind once more; three shadowy figures, one female and two male, her hair a telltale red, his face carrying a telltale scar; upset and uprisings in the streets, confusion and mass panic, a burning pyramid or temple; a splendorous hall devoid of life, except... He is there and the hairs on your neck starts to stand up as you realize that he is looking at you, that he knows and waits, and that he smiles with anticipation.
You are all enemies of the Kingdom, the Warden concludes, Monsters, villains, traitors... Blackguards, all. You have been chosen, because noone will believe you work for the King. You have been chosen, because noone will care if you die. Do your best, or do your worst - it matters not. Know only that you will do what I have said. That is all.
An eerie silence settles in the room, the moments stretching into seconds, or minutes, or hours. It is hard to tell. Then a rumbling begins - quiet at first, but deafening within moments. It is as if a mountain topples over, as if a river of rocks flows through the room. You can't think for the noise, can't speak. Then suddenly, something impossible occurs. The walls starts to move, folding and slithering and breaking apart. The room collapses in on itself, and it is all you can not to scream as your doom comes crashing down on you. The Warden remains motionless in the center of the room, but you could have sworn she was smiling.
Out of the Ashes...
Darkness.
You are awake.
You are alive.
You must break free.
Open your eyes.
Your eyelids snap open. The light blinds you, but your eyes soon adjust themselves. You are no longer in the Maw. You can feel the soft caress of the wind on your skin, feel the warmth of the sun on your face. You are in a field of tall grass. In the distance is a great forest, and beyond, high mountains. There is a river somewhere nearby; you can hear the water running. It is in the evening, just before dusk. The sun has not yet set, but is about to. Free. You are finally free. You do not understand why or how, or where, but there you are. You take a deep breath, savoring the scent of the grass and the clean crispness of the air.
Then you see them.
The Warden is nowhere to be found, but the others are. Monsters, creatures and other entities. Unknown factors. Certainly threats. Memory comes back to you; you are not free at all. Something impossible is demanded of you. Something that most likely will get you killed. And the only help you'll get are these villains, these... Blackguards. And you don't even know who, or what, they are.
Seems like you're going on an adventure. What a joy.
