The sky was a dark shade of grey as the cold wind blew sending leaves tumbling along the small trail that wound its way precariously through the mountain path. Antoinette shivered and drew her robes in tightly as she silently cursed the weather this far north and the cold that chilled her to her very core, especially on an afternoon like this one. Colossal dark clouds swirled overhead drifting silently on the breeze bringing the forebears of rain.
“Just what I need right now…” she muttered dryly to herself as she glared at the sky.
Her destination surely had to be close now, though the maps she had used to find the place were old the features of the land had not changed at all. She spared a few moments to wonder about the past civilization that had once occupied this mountain range. The scholar she had purchased the map from had known little of them other than the fact the hills and mountains of the area contained the long buried and forgotten ruins of all that was left. As she rounded a bend in the path as if to answer her thoughts the looming figure of the ancient fort could be seen where it had long ago been constructed overlooking the pass below. It looked as if it maybe once had been an intimidating military presence, however those days were obviously long behind it. The words crumbling, decrepit and shithole came to Antoinette’s mind as she paused to survey what was left of it. There also seemed to be something else, something hanging on the air surrounding the fort within a close proximity. Her face wrinkled into a frown as she eyed it suspiciously from a distance trying to determine exactly what it was. After a short while she continued her approach, her eyes fixed firmly upon her destination as she focused on the task at hand.
As she grew close it became clearer that it was a foul-looking mist that seemed to centre itself upon the fort, one which she had not seen the like of for many years.
““A Plaguebringer?” she asked herself under her own breath. She wondered briefly if there was a chance that this was her old friend Dural, but swiftly discounted the thought. He would be dead – just like everyone else she knew, she reminded herself bitterly. Best not to kindle such hopes.
She took a final deep breath of fresh air before she made her way into the old fort, taking care to move silently as she did so. As she found her way through the old and ruined corridors she quickly followed the sound of voices into a central chamber. It seemed she was late.
Without a word Antoinette made her way in and leant herself against the back wall half hidden in shadows as she listened to what was being said as she took in the scene.
Almost centrally there was a mage who looked ancient himself, not just old but his eyes seemed to radiate his arcane abilities as they scanned the room. She felt them piercing through her briefly as he seemed to notice her, but moments later they were elsewhere as he continued to speak and introduce himself. There was also an assortment of other individuals that were focused upon him around the room.
Sat watching the others was a muscular woman with a shaved head. She looked to be some kind of monk or priest from her appearance, however Antoinette also noticed that she was covered in animalistic tattoos unlike any other priest or monk she had ever seen.
In the corner of the room to her surprise there was a hulking orc sat watching a young girl with slightly… feline features –
“‘Curious’ she mused. There was a raven perched upon her lap, which moments later the orc stood and approached. He looked even larger when he stood up. In any other setting Antoinette might have worried and reacted – after all she had been raised with the warning that all Orcs were barbaric brutes that loved to kill and rampage and drink the blood of innocents. It hadn’t taken much travel for her to find out that though whilst this was true of some Orcish tribes, it certainly wasn’t the case for a large minority of their brethren. She watched briefly with some small amount of amusement as the Orc even seemed to restrain his tone as he asked her a question.
Next her eyes flicked to a hooded and masked individual who sat wheezing in and out as he drew breath. A rather savage scythe sat next to him and it seemed that the foul mist was centred upon him. It was clear to her that he was the Plaguebringer – he did look a little like Dural, however it definitely wasn’t him.
Stood with his arms folded was a rather… scarred individual who looked like he’d been through more than a few fires in his time.
‘Pyromancer’ she noted to herself. She hadn’t met a single Pyromancer who hadn’t mirrored the element they dedicated themselves too – fiery, passionate, hot-tempered and usually inpatient. She wondered if this one would be any different.
Next and finally stood closest to the doorway was…
“oh, two Pyromancers? From behind she examined the woman stood before her, she was taller than Antoinette and clad in armour and a not to modest amount of weaponry was slung at her side. Her fiery red hair and few wafts of smoke enough to give her away as another discipline of fire – or again that was at least what Antoinette gathered from where she hung back at the rear of the room.
She spared a brief moment to consider what she looked like, lingering at the back and skulking amongst the shadows as she eyed up those that had also answered these summons. She decided she didn’t particularly care as she maintained her position and her silence as she let the others do the talking. She listened as they introduced themselves.
