Turn Back The Clock (IC)

[Ameriganastan]

The kingdom of Thedusta

The mood of the kingdom seemed an almost mocking mirror of the weather. Cloudless, sunny and pleasantly warm. People should have been having picnics, visiting the market, taking their children to play in the meadows. But no, the walls of the kingdom teemed with weary and tired looking people of all species. Weapons at the ready and all hope drained from their faces. One old man shook his head at the situation before him.

"It's a great shame. It took the end of the world to bring us all together and ignore lines of race and creed."

Indeed, Dwarves and Elves, humans and Orcs, Gnomes and Halflings, and so on stood together in preparation for the coming assault.

"Even more of a shame that my plan will undo this. But togetherness means nothing if we're all dead. And there he is. Right on cue."

He held out his arm, a hawk landing gracefully on it.

"How far away are they old friend?"

A few soldiers looked at him in confusion as he nodded to the birds squawks.

"Drat. I was hoping for more time to fine-tune the spell. But it looks like the time is now."

He produced a bit of meat from his pocket, feeding it to his avian messenger.

"Fly away now. And good luck. I have work to do."

The bird departed as he clapped his hands together, vanishing in a flash of light. He reappeared among a cadre of mages busying themselves around a large stone archway.

"How many answered the call?"

One of the mages counted off on his fingers.

"7, sir. We have word an 8th may be coming. They are waiting in your study as instructed."

"7...well, I guess that's going to have to suffice. And how goes the spell? Do we have enough energy?"

"I don't know. This is extremely powerful magic. We've gathered every cabal that survived and I'm still not sure this will work."

"Well we either try or wait here to die. I don't know about you, but I have no intention of dying today. Finish the preparations. I must brief those who came."

He snapped his fingers, vanishing again and appearing at the doors of his study.

"I pray the call was answered by a capable bunch."

He pushed the doors open. Greeted to his little sanctum. Shelves upon shelves of arcane knowledge. Comfy chairs. A fireplace. And 7 strangers mulling about.

"...Well, that's what I get for praying. Whatever. Make due. Good afternoon all."

He flopped down, scanning the assembled people.

"I'll cut right to the chase. In an hour or less, the Corpse Lord and his legion will arrive. And Thedusta will fall like every other village, city, kingdom, etc. We cannot stop him. That chance passed us long ago. And you only get one. At least, that's what I used to think. At this moment, the last mage cabals and myself are working on a magic never attempted by us mortals. I have no idea if it will work. But the long and short of it?"

He had to wonder if his next sentence would make him sound insane.

"We're travelling into our own past to stop the Corpse Lord before he rises to power."

[Olthar]

Nadia Tibbles hadn't intended to go on a probably suicidal commando mission that day. She hadn't even intended on showing up at the arch-wizard's tower at all. However, there was this bird and a piece of string, then one thing lead to another, and now here she was. She thought that they were all gathering together for a tea party, but when Taxarif showed up and made his announcement, she immediately forgot all about it.

"Time travel?!" the little gnome woman burst out, "I didn't know that was possible! Ooh! This is so exciting!"

Nadia Tibbles began bouncing around the room like a rabbit on caffeine while giggling excitedly.

"Ooo, how are we going to do it? Some sort of autonomous wheeled vehicle? A box painted blue? I can help build it! I already have so many ideas!"

The young articifer pulled a sheet of parchment off the wizard's desk and began rapidly sketching out various weird devices on it.

"Maybe make it out of a steel frame to help conduct the flux..." She muttered to herself as she drew.

[Novas Arcanum]

Lady Orléans the Calaisien highborn walked into the sanctum with the grace and beauty of a lioness. The Sorceress radiated confidence and walked with an elegance borne from her background and heritage. Her exquisite dress made from the finest fabrics that could be afforded styled in royal Calasisien art style conveyed that she was no ordinary woman at all a true blue blood indeed. She smelled of roses. Her eyes sparkled like the suns above her, and her hair flowed down like a gracious waterfall, cascading from the cliffs of Mont Eternel. The Lady glanced at the famous wizard and curtsied in typical Calaisien style. What a strange and curious batch of souls summoned by the great wizard Taxarif, I wonder what game he is playing?

In a voice of song, she spoke."Bonjour Madame Éléonore Orléans at your service it is a pleasure to finally make you acquaintance Sir Havenwhisper".She listened to what the elder had to say. The End Times where nigh the world was doomed. Not even the gods themselves had foreseen this ruin, and the old wizard would have to send them back in time to defeat the Corpse Lord once and for all. She should've been anxious, frightened, yet she was eerily calm and collected.

That is until she was reminded of the company she was in, and the people she would have to collaborate with as a team.

Merci I am surrounded by children! If this is the best Taxarif could summon, then we are doomed! Éléonore thought as she watched the gnome bounce off the walls as if she were drunk and high at the same time. "Very well, if this is the only way to defeat the Dark Lord then so be it, godspeed send us on our way".

[Ameriganastan]

Nadia Tibbles hadn't intended to go on a probably suicidal commando mission that day. She hadn't even intended on showing up at the arch-wizard's tower at all. However, there was this bird and a piece of string, then one thing lead to another, and now here she was. She thought that they were all gathering together for a tea party, but when Taxarif showed up and made his announcement, she immediately forgot all about it.

"Time travel?!" the little gnome woman burst out, "I didn't know that was possible! Ooh! This is so exciting!"

Nadia Tibbles began bouncing around the room like a rabbit on caffeine while giggling excitedly.

"Ooo, how are we going to do it? Some sort of autonomous wheeled vehicle? A box painted blue? I can help build it! I already have so many ideas!"

The young articifer pulled a sheet of parchment off the wizard's desk and began rapidly sketching out various weird devices on it.

"Maybe make it out of a steel frame to help conduct the flux..." She muttered to herself as she drew.

"The method to travel such is already constructed. I assume you saw the large stone gateway on the way here. Constructed of magic sensitive stone. And the runes of the spell are etched into the stones. Also..."

He pointed his staff at her, lifting her off the ground and roughly planting her in a nearby seat.

"Don't. Touch. Just because I'm holding this meeting in my study doesn't mean I want grease and gnome hair all over everything...also, we need to have a chat later about that blue box you mentioned."

Lady Orléans the Calaisien highborn walked into the sanctum with the grace and beauty of a lioness. The Sorceress radiated confidence and walked with an elegance borne from her background and heritage. Her exquisite dress made from the finest fabrics that could be afforded styled in royal Calasisien art style conveyed that she was no ordinary woman at all a true blue blood indeed. She smelled of roses. Her eyes sparkled like the suns above her, and her hair flowed down like a gracious waterfall, cascading from the cliffs of Mont Eternel. The Lady glanced at the famous wizard and curtsied in typical Calaisien style. What a strange and curious batch of souls summoned by the great wizard Taxarif, I wonder what game he is playing?

In a voice of song, she spoke."Bonjour Madame Éléonore Orléans at your service it is a pleasure to finally make you acquaintance Sir Havenwhisper".She listened to what the elder had to say. The End Times where nigh the world was doomed. Not even the gods themselves had foreseen this ruin, and the old wizard would have to send them back in time to defeat the Corpse Lord once and for all. She should've been anxious, frightened, yet she was eerily calm and collected.

That is until she was reminded of the company she was in, and the people she would have to collaborate with as a team.

Merci I am surrounded by children! If this is the best Taxarif could summon, then we are doomed! Éléonore thought as she watched the gnome bounce off the walls as if she were drunk and high at the same time. "Very well, if this is the only way to defeat the Dark Lord then so be it, godspeed send us on our way".

"I'm glad for your enthusiasm, Lady Orléans. I am quite pleased the royal enchantress responded to my call...oh, one moment. It's feeding time. Percival! Here boy!"

From the rafters of his study, a brightly colored parrot landed on his shoulder.

"That's a good boy...hmm? Who said what now?"

He glanced at Éléonore.

""Now Percival. What have I told you about reading peoples minds without permission? Yes, it was rude...yes, she's actually the youngest one here...Percival! The color of her unmentionables is her own business. You go to your cage for that."

The bird fluttered off, Taxarif wiping a feather off his shoulder.

"Damned bird. I try to grant him the ability to talk, and instead I make him telepathic. Cursed feather-duster."

[Canis Rex]

Garren had been tense the entire day, a tension creeping into his muscles and bone the closer he got to this kingdom and what it called for. What was he to do? How could these people have some means of defeating the relentless horde he hmself had faced and witnessed the ferocity of?
But then he remembers the outcome of that battle, recalls the very reason he had marched here alone to be thrown in a room with a bunch of strangers who all looked to have nothing in common. Those monsters both shamed his entire clan and took everything from him in one fell swoop. On a day like today he normally would have taken his sons out for some playful training, maybe let them spend time with their grandfather who would surely dazzle them with tales from when the village was still active raiders, take a walk around the village or woods with his wife.
But then came news of their approach and he stood with his brothers to knock back this threat as they had all others. He watched as every one of the defenders fell ,including his father, then everyone else. Only his desire to avenge them kept him from suicidally throwing himself into the fray with a berserker's rage. Their deaths meant nothing if he died with them and those guilty would not pay if he was not alive to do so.
But now that lifeless horde and its puppet-master would face their judgement. He held no righteous reason to saving any kingdom, but if it helped him slay those monsters he would stand by any warrior's side. That thought held when the wizard entered and drew the former raider's attention that he tunred towards the elder from where he stood.
The plan quickly sounded crazy, even by magic standards. The power such a spell must take. The fact none of them knew each other or what they were capable of. What they were up against in the first place.
But he had no other options. Nothing could stand against the approaching horde now. So they would have to hit when they had still been vulnerable.
"I'll stand with any arcane plan you hatch, mage. Those-" He paused, trying to dredge up a word with enough hate behind it to match his rage. There wasn't one. -"Things must pay."

[Zhaas123]

Vun Stormsplitter had payed little heed to the others in the Sanctum they didn't look like much but Taxarif must have seen something in the lot of them. He fiddled with the pendent of Ulene around his neck for a few moments until he heard the arch-wizard speak, stepping into the past. He looked around flabbergasted that was their plan to save the lord from the Corpse Lords clutches. His mind turned back to the Witfail Valley and his fists clenched, he always asked himself what he would change if he could now it looked as if he would have the change to find out the answer.

"So you suggest we cut the head off the serpent before he hatches from the Egg?" asked the cleric as he stood from his seat and approached Taxarif. Vun stopped before the wizard and slapped his fist to his chest "Regardless I swear as the last cleric of Ulene to dedicated my mace and life to your cause."

[Ameriganastan]

Garren had been tense the entire day, a tension creeping into his muscles and bone the closer he got to this kingdom and what it called for. What was he to do? How could these people have some means of defeating the relentless horde he hmself had faced and witnessed the ferocity of?
But then he remembers the outcome of that battle, recalls the very reason he had marched here alone to be thrown in a room with a bunch of strangers who all looked to have nothing in common. Those monsters both shamed his entire clan and took everything from him in one fell swoop. On a day like today he normally would have taken his sons out for some playful training, maybe let them spend time with their grandfather who would surely dazzle them with tales from when the village was still active raiders, take a walk around the village or woods with his wife.
But then came news of their approach and he stood with his brothers to knock back this threat as they had all others. He watched as every one of the defenders fell ,including his father, then everyone else. Only his desire to avenge them kept him from suicidally throwing himself into the fray with a berserker's rage. Their deaths meant nothing if he died with them and those guilty would not pay if he was not alive to do so.
But now that lifeless horde and its puppet-master would face their judgement. He held no righteous reason to saving any kingdom, but if it helped him slay those monsters he would stand by any warrior's side. That thought held when the wizard entered and drew the former raider's attention that he tunred towards the elder from where he stood.
The plan quickly sounded crazy, even by magic standards. The power such a spell must take. The fact none of them knew each other or what they were capable of. What they were up against in the first place.
But he had no other options. Nothing could stand against the approaching horde now. So they would have to hit when they had still been vulnerable.
"I'll stand with any arcane plan you hatch, mage. Those-" He paused, trying to dredge up a word with enough hate behind it to match his rage. There wasn't one. -"Things must pay."

"And pay they shall, my vengeful young compatriot. But do remember there is one person your rage should be focused on. Those shambling carcasses he leads were once like you and I. This plan is not only to spare the world, but to prevent those he controls from suffering the fate of undeath and servitude."

Vun Stormsplitter had payed little heed to the others in the Sanctum they didn't look like much but Taxarif must have seen something in the lot of them. He fiddled with the pendent of Ulene around his neck for a few moments until he heard the arch-wizard speak, stepping into the past. He looked around flabbergasted that was their plan to save the lord from the Corpse Lords clutches. His mind turned back to the Witfail Valley and his fists clenched, he always asked himself what he would change if he could now it looked as if he would have the change to find out the answer.

"So you suggest we cut the head off the serpent before he hatches from the Egg?" asked the cleric as he stood from his seat and approached Taxarif. Vun stopped before the wizard and slapped his fist to his chest "Regardless I swear as the last cleric of Ulene to dedicated my mace and life to your cause."

"Clerics of Ulene?"

He leaned in slightly, pulling a pair of eyeglasses from his robe sleeve.

"Ah. I thought there was something familiar about you. You're the spitting image of your father. Nice fellow. We only crossed paths once, but he saved my life. Vampire was ravaging a small village. Got the drop on me. I'd be dead if he didn't spear the bastard through the heart. I recall he said his wife was with child at the time. He had high hopes for you. Seems they paid off. Glad to have you aboard."

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Time travel! Now, that was a godly power if ever he heard it. Vukubcane scoffed for a moment. How such a mundane foreign wizard could even pretend to wield such power was beyond him. Time travel was even outside the realm of possibility of the most powerful blood sorcerers of the Moon Empire. In any other circumstance, in any other place, in any other time, Vukubcane would have taken his gear and left. Let this eccentric foreigner lead his troop into a doomed mission, sure.

The Elven blood warrior didn’t leave, however. Because this wasn’t any other circumstance, any other place, any other time. This was the Time of the Dead, as prophesied by the Old Priests hundreds of years ago. The end of the world, and they were in the eye of the storm. The last city standing in the last kingdom, in a world where the living died and the dead came to live, where cities burned like torches. Whole rivers had turned to blood, fields turned to ash, all before an army that was ten times bigger than any army ever assembled against them. An army that did not eat, did not sleep, and needed no rest. If the wizard spoke even a bit of truth, he had the best idea on how to fight the enemy, and Vukubcane would place his trust in that.

The motley crew that has assembled was an interesting one for sure. In the days of old Vukubcane would have assembled ten of the finest blood warriors of the Empire, and they would probably do the job in half the time that these foreigners could. Held back by decadent ideas and a lack of spiritual perfection, this group would have to do.

“What exactly is your plan, Wizard?” Vukubcane said with a slight hint of incredulity in his voice. “Are we going to walk up to the False Prophet and smash in his skull or something?”

Having only seen a little of the eccentricity of this wizard, Vukubcane could not pretend to know what he would answer. And he couldn’t really fathom what answer he would prefer, if he was being honest to himself.

[Esternial]

Magnificent. The wizard's words briefly reinvigorated the Light inside of Arryn as he approached, now availed from the doubts and despair that had afflicted him for so long. Had he known he was summoned for such an undertaking, he would have cleaned the dirt off his armor and polished it to absolute perfection, as he used to.

The mere thought of bringing down divine judgement onto the miscreant that instigated this undead crusade replenished his vigor. It almost seemed as if his scales became just a bit more vibrant than before, and his previously slumped posture had once again become proud and confident.

"You have my thanks, mage. I have long bemoaned my inability to quench this undead scourge. This chance will not be wasted. I will yet have my chance to be the instrument of divine judgement and obliterate this wretched Corpse Lord!"

Triumphantly, Arryn grasped onto the hilt of his greatsword, his armor glowing every so faintly. The undead hordes had eradicated most of the Light from this world, but his renewed faith had fanned the embers of its resplendent flame to ignite once more. Hope.

[Olthar]

"The method to travel such is already constructed. I assume you saw the large stone gateway on the way here. Constructed of magic sensitive stone. And the runes of the spell are etched into the stones. Also..."

He pointed his staff at her, lifting her off the ground and roughly planting her in a nearby seat.

"Don't. Touch. Just because I'm holding this meeting in my study doesn't mean I want grease and gnome hair all over everything...also, we need to have a chat later about that blue box you mentioned."

Upon being lifted off the ground, Nadia Tibbles was silenced by shock and surprise. She squirmed and flailed as she was pulled through the air and dropped into the chair. She crossed her arms in frustration and adopted a pouty expression.


Momentarily distracted from work, the gnome looked around the room at the other people gathered. Before Taxarif showed up, she had scarcely stopped talking at them since she wandered in. However, she hadn't actually paid too much attention to them, expecting that they were nothing more than tea party guests. Now that she was aware of their true importance, she looked them all over more carefully.

Many of the others seemed like the dangerous sort, but then, that was sort of the point, Nadia Tibbles realized. The snooty one in the pretty dress seemed out of place, though. Maybe she had also been confused and thought this was going to be a tea party? She certainly didn't sound like the type of person to go on dangerous adventures. Of course, neither was Nadia, herself, but at least she was dressed more practically. Or was she? Maybe she should make some sort of magic armor for herself. The gnome quietly stole another sheet of parchment off the nearby table and began sketching once more.

[Novas Arcanum]

Scandalous! She knew that Taxarif was an eccentric but to speak of her "unmentionables" was simply unacceptable to the tenets of politeness and civility. Madame Orléans took a step backward to convey her discomfort. The Sorceress wished to escape then and there she could teleport back to her carriage and have her servants ride her back to her beloved Calais. If only she had a home to return to. She was reminded of the grim reality, that everyone she knew and loved was dead, her kingdom was dead, the bountiful vineyards that produced the most excellent wine in the world laid destroyed and fallowed a stark reminder that the Land of Fruit and Wine was no more.

Her eyes burned with passion. She would have the Corpse Lords head on a pike for what he did. She would rip him apart with her magicks and spread his entrails across the face of the world for the pain and suffering he had caused to the thousands of innocents. In order to that, she would have to work with these people and learn to trust them. Besides the gnome, the others certainly looked like the warrior type especially the dragonkin who looked ready to bash some skulls in the name of the divines. The blood elf gave her a sense of unease she remembered tales of Calaisien Chevilars going toe to toe with the Blood Wizards. They where considered savages and their kind was steeped in mystery. The Calaisien scholars weaved all sorts of wild theories about their culture and way of life at the Université Royale in Bordeaux no doubt all of them crazed conspiracies then inherent truth.

She looked at herself and noted how she looked ready for a Royal Ball then battle. Of course, the others would underestimate the Madame, she was a sorceress of renown in her homeland, but these adventurers knew not a single thing of her accomplishments and abilities. The dress was an illusion, a formality, with a snap of her fingers they could be transformed to her enchanted combat robes that befitted a mage of her power.

In the meantime she would stand ready and composed quietly observing the others, ready to be sent back into time to fulfill their destinies of saving the world or die trying.

[Ameriganastan]

Time travel! Now, that was a godly power if ever he heard it. Vukubcane scoffed for a moment. How such a mundane foreign wizard could even pretend to wield such power was beyond him. Time travel was even outside the realm of possibility of the most powerful blood sorcerers of the Moon Empire. In any other circumstance, in any other place, in any other time, Vukubcane would have taken his gear and left. Let this eccentric foreigner lead his troop into a doomed mission, sure.

The Elven blood warrior didn’t leave, however. Because this wasn’t any other circumstance, any other place, any other time. This was the Time of the Dead, as prophesied by the Old Priests hundreds of years ago. The end of the world, and they were in the eye of the storm. The last city standing in the last kingdom, in a world where the living died and the dead came to live, where cities burned like torches. Whole rivers had turned to blood, fields turned to ash, all before an army that was ten times bigger than any army ever assembled against them. An army that did not eat, did not sleep, and needed no rest. If the wizard spoke even a bit of truth, he had the best idea on how to fight the enemy, and Vukubcane would place his trust in that.

The motley crew that has assembled was an interesting one for sure. In the days of old Vukubcane would have assembled ten of the finest blood warriors of the Empire, and they would probably do the job in half the time that these foreigners could. Held back by decadent ideas and a lack of spiritual perfection, this group would have to do.

“What exactly is your plan, Wizard?” Vukubcane said with a slight hint of incredulity in his voice. “Are we going to walk up to the False Prophet and smash in his skull or something?”

Having only seen a little of the eccentricity of this wizard, Vukubcane could not pretend to know what he would answer. And he couldn’t really fathom what answer he would prefer, if he was being honest to himself.

"I wish the plan was more complicated...but yes, that is the basic idea. We find whoever the Corpse Lord is before he became the herald of the undead, and end him. Or stop him from doing whatever he did to attain such unheard of levels of necronamic powers. I actually have a theory on that."

He rapped his staff on the ground, conjuring an image of the feared figure himself.

"I believe it's the spear he wields. It is the only arcane power I sense from him. So if we can't find him, we find that spear and destroy it. Problem is, I have no idea where it could have hailed from. I can't find a similar object in any of my files on arcane objects.

Magnificent. The wizard's words briefly reinvigorated the Light inside of Arryn as he approached, now availed from the doubts and despair that had afflicted him for so long. Had he known he was summoned for such an undertaking, he would have cleaned the dirt off his armor and polished it to absolute perfection, as he used to.

The mere thought of bringing down divine judgement onto the miscreant that instigated this undead crusade replenished his vigor. It almost seemed as if his scales became just a bit more vibrant than before, and his previously slumped posture had once again become proud and confident.

"You have my thanks, mage. I have long bemoaned my inability to quench this undead scourge. This chance will not be wasted. I will yet have my chance to be the instrument of divine judgement and obliterate this wretched Corpse Lord!"

Triumphantly, Arryn grasped onto the hilt of his greatsword, his armor glowing every so faintly. The undead hordes had eradicated most of the Light from this world, but his renewed faith had fanned the embers of its resplendent flame to ignite once more. Hope.

"...Yes, divine something or other."

Taxarif was polite enough to not vocalize his surprise at the large lizard...thing being able to speak.

I'm not sure how I never met one of these things...

He wiped the image of the Corpse Lord away.

"Anyway, a few warnings about venturing into our pasts. We must under all circumstances avoid encountering our past selves. If you do, there is a small to large chance the result could destroy you...or possibly destroy reality. I'm not sure. Time magic is tricky like that. Do nor attempt to change things for your benefit. No saving drowning kids or soon to perish family members. Things like that. I know it's callous, but we're already interfering with time. It's best just to not risk it...and that's it really."

He pointed his staff at the study doors, flinging them open dramatically. He was a showman like that.

"If there are no further inquiries, I shall be at the gate preparing to enact the spell. Meet me there quickly."

He snapped his fingers, vanishing from the study...which made the door opening kind of redundant.

[Phalnia]

Galaerin, the ageless druid
Thedusta, the Study of the Arch-Wizard

---

Galaerin had been silent for most of the time leading up to the wizard's arrival. So many centuries with no voices, but her own reflected back at her had dulled her ability for conversation. She choose instead to examine those others who had assembled. Fashion certainly had changed over the past three-hundred years. But, other than that people were essentially the same. Some, like richly adorned woman reminded Galaerin of the nobles who had forced her parents to flee the various homes they had tried to build. Then there was the elf he seemed a warrior though he was different than the elves that had lived in the times of Galaerin. He and the reptile were warriors no doubt, devout in their missions and their gods.

But, most worrying to Galaerin was the gnome with boundless energy. These were the types who often posed the greatest danger to the woods the druid had once protected. While often acting without malice, these truly inquisitive types were far to prone to wandering into areas they did not belong or carelessly damaging the world as they followed whatever new thing had caught their fancy.

Galaerin set those thoughts aside as a wizard entered the room. His plan was simply stated, but no doubt complex. She wondered how much thought the wizard had put into this. But, before she could pose a question the wizard snapped his fingers and was gone. Galaerin sighed, wizards were so proud of their magic and tended to, in her opinion, focus on it over all other things. With her robes flowing behind her and staff in hand, Galaerin headed towards the stone structure the wizard had described.

[Canis Rex]

Garren had to summon all of his willpower to not draw his weapon and swipe at the projection of the Corpse Lord, one of his feet shifting forward before he caught himself. It was a projection, not the real thing as much as he wished otherwise. But it gave him a visualization of his enemy, the damnable creature whose life he would claim by the end of this journey.
As the wizard explained, he already found his resolve tested. He could not intervene in the past with himself or his former life. It would be very hard to not give some sort of warning if he happened to see one of his deceased loved ones. Hopefully they would not cross the area anyway. He steeled himself, vowing that his highest priority was the death of the necromancer responsible for all this.
Perhaps that would even give him his life back and this quest would end up a bad dream. The former raider could only hope at this point.
Hope and anger were all he had left and all he would need to motivate him to see this through. As much as he may not understand magic, he would follow this wizard's words so long as it lead him where he hunted to go. The quiet mumbling of jostled steel sounds as he rolls his limbs and neck and checks that he has what he will need, pushing off the wall to find the gate the mage spoke of before disappearing.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Vukubcane looked at the wizard with a mixture of incredulity and scorn. Sure, just walk up to the Sovereign of the Dead, stick a lance through his gullet, and be done with it. Preposterous. Preposterous! Vukubcane was ready to call it a day, to walk out the city and face the Dread Armies on his own. That would probably give more time than following this daft foreigner. Then, however, the wizard mentioned the Spear, and Vukubcane’s whole demeanor changed. He was still incredulous, but suddenly his attention was fixed. The calculation was quite simple: without the coming of the Corpse Lord, the Empire of the Moon would still be ruled by foreigners. The coming of the Damned Legions had saved them, and killing the False Messiah would doom it again. However, if they got their hands on that spear… They could elect among themselves a True Messiah. Vukubcane smiled, and respectfully stayed silent.

After the wizard had vanished, Vukubcane stood up.

“Methinks there is truth in what he says!” he said, trying his best to sound as concerned with the fate of the world as everyone else seemed to be. With that, he moved out the door, towards the stone structure he had only partially paid attention to upon entering the Sanctum.

[Novas Arcanum]

Madame Orléans observed the others then the structure that would carry them to their destinies. She raised her hands and chanted a spell "Altererbus Demoendius!". Éléonore soon glowed with arcane blue energy that quickly subsided. The Sorceress was now garbed in enchanted combat robes, that radiated pure magical power. The robes allowed ease of movement and amplified her magical abilities, and while not as important provided a stylish en vouge appearance that was important to the Calaisien noblewoman. She looked forward then back. Well, no point in dallying any longer she walked towards the structure but a sense of unease hit her.

What if she saw her Mère or Père what if she saw her lover? She cared deeply for Marie and almost cried knowing that she would have to avoid her at all costs. Would she have it within herself to not warn everyone she knew and loved of their doom? No, she quickly dissipated all doubt. The cause that they served was to destroy the Corpse Lord and save the world at all costs. The Sorceress put on her hood, which lent a mysterious image towards herself.

She walked with confidence and headed towards the stone structure ready for whatever faith awaited her.

[Constaniana]

There's so much green...

Alejandro Don Corabarsqi was almost unsettled by the lush meadows of this country. The Jordeusqan envisioned all the goats that could be grazing in them and how much fatter they could get, and how many more of his people they could have fed. But questions like that were irrelevant these days. He had a similar dearth of questions regarding the mission, except for approximately how many years they were journeying back. That was a simple question with a short answer, which probably caused to him to not be in such a hurry to make it to the meeting at the appointed time. Fortunately he had not arrived after the rest of the group departed.

"Senor Alejandro Don Dorabarsqi the Zaldunmendir, at your service," the halfling spoke with a flourish of his cape, careful not to lock it into gliding position.

[Ameriganastan]

"Oh joy, more half-sized help. I should have put a minimum height requirement in that call for assistance. Whatever. Time to get this show on the road. You, unimportant little cabal mage. Tell the others to begin powering the gate. The rest of you stand back and watch an arch-wizard do his thing. Feel free to gasp in amazement when appropriate."

As the cabal mages began feeding magic energy into the gate, Taxarif struck the ground with his staff. A gigantic rune appearing around him, with him square in the center.

"Come on you pansies, more power! We're punching a hole straight through the chronological tangent here! Don't half-ass it! Now where is that scroll...right."

He pulled a scroll from his robe sleeve, unfurling it and making it float before him.

"Damn ancient Elvish. Can hardly read this chicken scratch...okay, here we go. BY ALL THE ARCANE THAT FLOWS THROUGH THE LAND, LET TIME BE MANIPULATED BY MY HAND! HEAR MY VOICE AND OBEY ME NOW, FOR THE POWERS OF TIME I SHALL MAKE BOW! COMBINE MY POWER AND ENCHANTED RHYME, AND ALLOW ME PASSAGE THROUGH TIME! I COMMAND THEE PORTAL TO OPEN!"

...And nothing happened.

"What in the...oh, whoops. Foot was in the wrong position."

He shifted his left foot slightly. And half the cabal mages were instantly incinerated when the portal roared to life. A crackling portal of magic energy.

"Probably should have warned them that would happen...but then they probably wouldn't have helped. Anyway, you lot go through first. I will follow behind you last. I need to make sure we're all through. Don't want half of us through and then the portal collapses when I go through."

[Olthar]

Nadia Tibbles was so enthralled in her sketching that she didn't even realize that everyone else had left. She quickly stuffed the parchment into her pocket and bolted out of the study. She ran as fast as her small legs would allow. In the exact wrong direction.

The gnome very quickly became lost within the city, the urban jungle of wattle and daub. The streets and alleys were crowded with refugees, and Nadia's three and a half foot frame was swallowed by throngs of giants. Uncomfortable and desperate, she dug through her tool belt for anything that could prove useful. After several moments, she pulled out her experimental Ring of Boundless Jumping. Deciding that this would be a good chance for a test run, she slipped it on her finger.

Nadia Tibbles crouched down and and jumped with all her might, launching herself nearly thirty feet into the air. She tumbled downwards towards a nearby roof. Before slamming into it, she reorientated herself and jumped again. With a barely controlled trajectory, she made her way through the town back towards the tower. As she approached the final row of houses, she saw everyone gathered around the stone archway and flung herself towards it.

"Watch out!" she screamed as she hurtled through the air.

Just as Taxarif finished the spell, Nadia streaked past him and flew straight into the portal, mere moments after it sparked into existence.

[Esternial]

Arryn observed in awe as the arch-wizard tore a rift through time itself, the raw power oblitherating several mages as it ruptured open into a passage. It seemed stable, for now. The paladin bemoaned the deaths of the cabal mages, but at the same time knew that - if they were succesful - their deaths were not certain. This portal gave them a chance to defy the finality of time, erase what had been etched in stone and carve a new path into a new, brighter future.

He cast a gaze through the windows, across the quiet city, as if it were holding its breath for the coming storm. In the distance, Arryn could feel the foul presence drawing closer.

"Our calling beckons. Whatever your ancestry, whatever you creed, we are all here to fight for one noble cause. We will fight for the freedom and safety of our people. Remember, comrades, fear is your greatest enemy. Steel your heart and your soul with shine brighter than a thousand suns. The enemy will cower at the sight of your resplendent glory, and fall as the Light of righteousness envelops them. We will not falter, we will not fail. We will forge ahead!" PLUS ULTRA

With those closing words, Arryn's body was engulfed in a blinding glow as the Light flared up inside him. His mucles seemed to expand as the energy coursed through it, unable to contain the sheer power and letting it seep out as crackling arcs of lightning. As his body grew in power, his mind grew with confidence and determination. Sword drawn and held aloft, he pointed it towards the portal before walking through it.

[Novas Arcanum]

Madame Orléans was horrified when she saw the cabal mages incinerated and disgusted when the archwizard shrugged his shoulders and spoke of their deaths as if it were nothing. Such callous disregard for human life did not bode well with the Sorceress it revealed to her that Taxarif would not care if they survived or not which was chilling, to say the least. She sent a silent prayer to the gods, hoping that everything would turn out alright and that everyone would survive the ordeal they were about to partake in.

She would be sent back in time before the Corpse Lord began his crusade of death and destruction. Calais would be a rich and cultured nation in this alternate past. The magnificent marble pillars and rivers of wine beckoned to her called out to her to return home. Yet she doubted that Calais would be their destination, perhaps nobody here knew how to speak Calaisien but herself, and the language was difficult one to learn and flourish in.

No, they would go to a land that spoke the common tongue, such as Thedusta. It did not matter, what did matter was that she and the group of adventurers would save the world from the carnage of the Corpse Lord. She stepped into the portal ready for what awaited her beyond the forces of space and time...

[Canis Rex]

Garren flinched back reflexively at the effects of the spell being cast. This was the exact reason he always looked to take out any mages in a caravan they ambushed first. It didn't take one understanding their power to know it could be beyond dangerous. But he had to trust in it this time, there was nothing else he could do.
That portal held the secrets of how to stop all of this from happening and he would fight his way through a horde to see the other side. And then would come the Corpse Lord. Then vengeance for all he had taken.
The very thought sends away any hesitation or will to take a single step back. His feet march forward. It was onward from now on until the master of the undead destroyers lay in a grave where all his servnts belonged. No matter where it sent them, the former raider would brave any storm or challenge. He had to.
His face tenses into a determined look, mouth set in a hard line while his cheeks tightened and his brows drew close. His hand grips the handle of his axe tightly in anticipation and he moves forward without preamble, footsteps pacing an eager gait. It was time to face this, to take the only opportunity he would have to make things right. His body was engulfed in the light of the spell.

[Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States]

Vukubcane whistled as the powerful magic energy tore the mages to shreds, crackling and creating a portal in the stone arch. All his reservations about the mage vanished in a single instant, the smell of burning and charred flesh and the sight of bleached bones immediately making him forget the more quirky aspects of the arch-wizard. He had seen blood rituals before, but this kind of power was even beyond what many Blood Wizards could achieve. He wondered what more this wizard could show, or what he could teach to his humble self. This respect for the wizard was contrasted against a sudden disdain he felt for his fellow adventurers. Three of them, the Paladin, the she-wizard and a knight, were all disgusted by the deaths of the cabal mages, something Vukubcane did not understand. Their lives would be trades for hundreds of thousands of others, if not many millions. The calculation was easy for him, but foreigners often placed more worth in the lives that they can see against the lives they have no knowledge of. The elf saw that as a sign of cowardice and arrogance, and of supreme ignorance. Loving all life equally meant being able to take one when the universe called for it.

There was one of them he could grow fond of, however. The gnome, whom had shown a boundless energy, went through the portal first. With a great cry, most certainly the war cry of her people, she leapt through the portal. Vukubcane looked at the portal with satisfaction. She was a brave one. This as opposed to the Paladin, who made a long-winded speech about freedom, bravery, righteousness… This too was something foreigners liked to do. Make long speeches to hide their cowardice, and then falter when it counted. Becoming martyrs, too, a concept the elf blood warrior never understood. He gripped his shield and his obsidian paddle sword and went after the Paladin, not using any more words than was strictly necessary.

[Ameriganastan]

"And that's everyone. I do amaze myself sometimes. Almost tempted to let the world end so people will know how awesome I am...nah. I'm just surprised the whole thing went off so smoothly. I figured I'd be reduced to ash or something."

As he approached the portal, one of the surviving cabal mages gasped and pointed at him.

"Arch-wizard, your hand!"

He looked down at his hand. Or what used to be his hand. Which had been reduced to nothing but bone.

"...Oh, for cripes sake."

He summoned the scroll, putting on his reading glasses and scanning it again.

"Of course. They make sure to leave the part about it cursing any non-Elf caster in super tiny print. Pointy eared jerks. Well, this is a pickle. I'm about to be reduced to a pile of bones. I can't let those morons do this without me...after all, it was my idea. I need an idea and quick..."

He thought on it for a moment.

"Ah, of course. I'll just switch my corporeal essence with another. Routine body swap spell. You there, gawking mage. Hold still for a moment. I need to borrow your form."

His still fleshy hand glowed bright blue.

"By the way, you'll be transplanted into my form. Which is about to perish quite painfully. Hope that's okay."

It was not. But luckily for the mage, something passed in front of him before the spell hit.

"...Oh, crap..."

On the other side of the portal, the others found themselves not where they left from. They had emerged from an identical archway in what seemed to be a forest.

"I figured as much. We couldn't exit through a portal that didn't exist however long ago this is. I wager the spell latched onto the nearest matching magic and created the out door. Quite fascinating really."

They could hear Taxarif. But they couldn't see him. The only thing that emerged from the portal last was his parrot, Percival.

"...By the way, there was a bit of a hiccup on my end."

[Olthar]

The pink haired gnome lay face down in the dirt, a long skid mark trailing behind her back towards the archway. After several moments, she picked herself up and giggled in mad glee. Her face and clothes were filthy, but she bounced around without a care in the world.

"Ohmygosh! That was so much fun! It felt like my body was being ripped apart and put back together a thousand times! This time travel stuff really is dangerous! We could have all died just now! I can't wait to study this later!" Nadia Tibbles continued giggling for a while before finally noticing her surroundings, "Huh. Where are we, anyways? I don't think I've ever been here before."

Nadia walked over to a nearby shrubbery and examined it. She looked it over, smelled it, pulled off and felt a leaf, tasted that leaf, and quickly spit it out.

"Eww, yuk," she complained, "Yep. This is definitely a forest of some kind."