A past revisited: A night like any other, quiet, uneventful and well received by one who has been restless as of late. Brymstone sat, allowing his mind to travel back to places now gone and remember a life once lived. The wind was gently blowing through the window of the small crypt upon which the whispers of the surrounding trees could be heard. A song of quiet acquiescence to the night’s solitude. A knock upon a door of thick timber resounds through the crypt, piercing the darkness within as it echoes throughout black, empty expanses. Brymstone is suddenly brought back to the present. Rising to his feet, Brymstone touches a wall of the crypt and opens his mind to it’s resonance, he feels for any life that may be within it’s surroundings. He senses nothing, and quickly picks up his axe. He walks to the stairs and descends as another knock, louder than the first thunders forth, causing the dark confines within to shudder. “Who is there?“ “The hour is late and there are no comforts for the living here”. Brymstone spoke in a voice that rivaled the last knock upon the door. His words are met by silence. He advances to the door, ready, spectral strength gripping his axe handle tight. “I would know who is there, announce yourself!” Brymstone orders with a forceful shout. Again, his words are left lacking a response, as if the silence was mocking his insistence. Brymstone grasped the latch to the crypt door and slowly turned it until it slips free of it’s security. Brymstone listens intently, reaching out with his sense for the living and feeling nothing once more. He pulls the door open in anticipation, the darkness yields to sight that sees both light and shadow. Brymstone steps out upon the front steps of the crypt and surveys the night, all is as it should be, except for a lone, dark shape standing within the graveyard directly across from him. “Who are you, what is your business here!” Brymstone shouted to the unknown visage.“Is that any way to greet one such as I?” A voice that carried a weight of implied threat replied. “I have searched many world’s for you Brymstone, you seem to have forgotten that the item you possess is mine and I would come for it eventually?” Brymstone stood as though he had been nailed to the stones of his crypt. “You” is all he could manage to say. “Yes, a most fortuitous reunion”, the figure pulled back the hood of his cloak. “Now look upon that which you thought destroyed, Vorkryllax the Devourer, and I will have what is mine!” Brymstone stumbled back into his crypt, slammed it’s thick oaken door shut, and uttered the words of his salvation, “Kal Ort Por”, he was instantly within the town square of Moonglow. He could think of only one thing, he could not battle this creature himself, he needed this world’s bravest and strongest, but who?
