These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.
Though the cold has left the room hours ago it still remains in the area of the stone wall that served as the gateway. I have passed the time thinking about my past life, what it has come to be and what my future holds. Now that I have freedom I am conflicted with what has happen. As strange as it sounds, Novak has been one of few people I have actually known. In a sense it makes him like family. Now that he is gone I am alone.
Or am I?
Lithia Muun comes over to offer some healing magic in a small vial. I do not even look at her as I wave her away. She snarls her nose up letting me know that she does really care but I do not believe that. Despite her game she plays with Amon Frost the girl has came through when we truly needed her magic. I feel as if she wants to help us regardless of her motives. The trust is already starting to build.
I look back to the others. They, too, seem to be contemplating what has happen. The prince has the purple gem in hand. Its glow is mesmerizing to him, he is lost in it. As Lithia approaches him Amon looks to her for support. She smiles, assuring him it will be alright. More magic has found its way into the young man’s hands. Another question that needs an answer.
Balasar sets on the ground taking Novak’s shortsword in hand. Where there were once red runes there is now nothing. After overhearing what he was told his mind must be reeling. No one but myself acts as if they have heard it. For days I have been judging the copperborn until recently finding out the truth. Despite what he was told I believe it shall not sway him to join Novak’s rank if he returns.
If he returns….
That one question I cannot move from. Surely with what we saw Novak is gone for good. The fear I saw in his face knew it was the end. There is no way in the Nine Hells that whatever it was that pulled him into that gateway allows him to live. For some reason I just cannot help but feel he is still alive.
And what was all those black tentacles? I have never seen such a horror! I have seen squid and octopus caught off the coast, even heard the tales of the kraken from drunken pirates. I may not know much of things from the sea but this was something more. Something far worse.
It’s voice, if you can call it that, jumbled my thoughts. The sound of it made me feel as if I was going mad. Though it was there for Novak I felt as if it was calling to me, maybe to all of us, in some strange manner. I dare not ask the others if they felt that. It is hard enough not to think about it. For all I care, if it is a thing made of nightmares, may it haunt that wretched bastard for as long as he lives.