"The unending battle between the urban and the natural is as old as history itself. Ever since sentient races began rebelling against that which had given them life, those who remained behind in the realm of the wild resented their relentless advances upon the forests and hills. First came the buildings, then came the towns and finally the cities, endlessly encroaching upon nature's greatest achievements. And now, that endless battle has come to our great forest. For the past 10 years, this colony city that borders upon our sacred forest has done nothing but grow, expand and prosper, all at the expense of our beautiful groves, our bountiful game. For years, the people of our two societies have bickered and conflict has risen."
The robed figure paused for a moment, briefly raising his head upward to view the other 7 figures gathered around the summoning circle. Simply standing in the circle's vicinity filled the hooded man with a strange feeling. It was something like power, but also like fear. A sort of mystical adrenaline rush. After considering this feeling for a moment, he continued, lowering his head once again.
"But no longer. It is true that we can not hope to take their filthy city from them. It is well fortified and we do not know their ways, nor their true numbers. But there are those who can assist us so as to make these observations irrelevant. Allies from the Abyssal Plane who will strike down our enemies and leav nothing behind but a trail of death and victory! And when the hated city-dwellers are gone, we shall return to elven society as heroes!"
A cheer broke out among the remaining seven as the lead elf thrust his fist into the air, firey zeal adorning his words.
"It is time, brothers. Let us summon our champion, draw our weapons and take back the lands that have been robbed from us!"
The elven cultists began their chant, their arms moving in sync as the practiced motions of the unholy ritual began to get faster and faster. The circle beneath their feet began to glow beneath them, at first a dull pink, but soon becoming a deep and menacing red. The head elf continued the ritual, chanting and motioning as the strange mystical adrenaline ran wild within him, his head spinning from the feeling of channeling a being of pure evil into his world. As the feeling grew, it began to change, the feeling of power leaving him and flowing into the center of the circle, leaving only the fear behind. However, he still did not stop the ritual.
He could not stop.
Oh god, why couldn't he stop?
As this terrifying realization came over the elf, he was wracked with excruciating pain as a man with skin red like blood and the size of two bears leapt toward him from the center of the circle and grasped his head with clawed hands wrapped in fire.
His screams were short-lived, the demon crushing his head after a moment of relishing in his agony. The monstrous creature turned to face the remaining cultists, all of whom were paralyzed with the same fear as their leader.
"Your foolish battles do not concern me," he spoke. "But do not worry. The city will burn. Just as the forest will burn. Just as all will burn. Just as you will burn."
As the screams of the warlocks filled the night, but even louder was the laughter of the demon, Gant'jen, as the flames began to spread and he moved towards the city.
By morning, the demon was gone. The forest had been saved by its diligent denizens, but much had been lost to the fire.
In the nearby city, another fire had begun, but it had similarly been stopped before the utter destruction of the city.
Gant'jen had made himself known, and now he was on the loose. It was the war between these two societies that had released him. And now it was their responsibility to stop him before the rest of the world fell prey to his evil.
Our story begins a day later. Two champions, one from each community, have appeared. This is their story.
The robed figure paused for a moment, briefly raising his head upward to view the other 7 figures gathered around the summoning circle. Simply standing in the circle's vicinity filled the hooded man with a strange feeling. It was something like power, but also like fear. A sort of mystical adrenaline rush. After considering this feeling for a moment, he continued, lowering his head once again.
"But no longer. It is true that we can not hope to take their filthy city from them. It is well fortified and we do not know their ways, nor their true numbers. But there are those who can assist us so as to make these observations irrelevant. Allies from the Abyssal Plane who will strike down our enemies and leav nothing behind but a trail of death and victory! And when the hated city-dwellers are gone, we shall return to elven society as heroes!"
A cheer broke out among the remaining seven as the lead elf thrust his fist into the air, firey zeal adorning his words.
"It is time, brothers. Let us summon our champion, draw our weapons and take back the lands that have been robbed from us!"
The elven cultists began their chant, their arms moving in sync as the practiced motions of the unholy ritual began to get faster and faster. The circle beneath their feet began to glow beneath them, at first a dull pink, but soon becoming a deep and menacing red. The head elf continued the ritual, chanting and motioning as the strange mystical adrenaline ran wild within him, his head spinning from the feeling of channeling a being of pure evil into his world. As the feeling grew, it began to change, the feeling of power leaving him and flowing into the center of the circle, leaving only the fear behind. However, he still did not stop the ritual.
He could not stop.
Oh god, why couldn't he stop?
As this terrifying realization came over the elf, he was wracked with excruciating pain as a man with skin red like blood and the size of two bears leapt toward him from the center of the circle and grasped his head with clawed hands wrapped in fire.
His screams were short-lived, the demon crushing his head after a moment of relishing in his agony. The monstrous creature turned to face the remaining cultists, all of whom were paralyzed with the same fear as their leader.
"Your foolish battles do not concern me," he spoke. "But do not worry. The city will burn. Just as the forest will burn. Just as all will burn. Just as you will burn."
As the screams of the warlocks filled the night, but even louder was the laughter of the demon, Gant'jen, as the flames began to spread and he moved towards the city.
----------------------------------------------
By morning, the demon was gone. The forest had been saved by its diligent denizens, but much had been lost to the fire.
In the nearby city, another fire had begun, but it had similarly been stopped before the utter destruction of the city.
Gant'jen had made himself known, and now he was on the loose. It was the war between these two societies that had released him. And now it was their responsibility to stop him before the rest of the world fell prey to his evil.
Our story begins a day later. Two champions, one from each community, have appeared. This is their story.
