Our intrepid adventurers are informed of the rumor that Legion is amassing his forces as the Sundowner Wars ravage the land, and they have been brought together as a special response to danger.
You have all been summoned to the seat of power and if the missives you received are to be believed, the Sigil himself, upon whom the survival of the mortal world supposedly rests, is awaiting you personally. You been brought to the Citadel of the Last Dawn, the tallest structure in Paradygm. What was once supposedly a city of magitech and wonder, now an inert collection of tall greenish-blue crystal towers that look like needles thrust into the flesh of the world overlooking an agressive sea of agitation and monsters.
Magrius Tanaram, The Caller of the Vigil has summoned CLIFF to the Radiant Chamber near the top of the Citadel of the Last Dawn. He meets you at the base of the tower amongst the once wonderous city square, now, reduced to an opulent but ultimately undead city of magic and wonder. Describe yourself to us. “Come XXX, the Sigil awaits and he is not one known for an abundance of patience.”
At the shrine across the street from the Citadel of the Last Dawn, dedicated to the radiance of the sun, the journey into hope and the mourning of twilight, Erasmus enters to find the LIghtbringer Onenderus awaiting his arrival in prayer. After a moment of respectful silence, surrounded by the light of thousands of candles, the Lightbringer stands, resplendent in his vestments of cleanest white and gold filagree, “Crypstalker Secondus has regaled us all with tales of your prowess in the healing arts and effectiveness in the purgation of the should-be-dead of the land. Come. The Sigil awaits our arrival and the climb up the stairs is an arduous one: we do not want to arrive after the others.”
Within the Chamber of Scientifical Merit within the Repository of Blasphemy within the greater Athenaeum of Ages Lost library, the Augustine Lord Vivisect Vor is hard at work, elbows deep within the bowels of an unknown profanity of science, “ah, mmm, yes. oh, of course” he mutters to himself behind three sets of goggles and glasses, apron decorated in gore and held to his person by a book pad locked and chained to his waist. “oh, I ah, why yes, yes you have arrived and i, I, It must be of the appointed hour, rights? yes. lets – let’s us away.”
As you approach the center of the square, before the blue-green crystal statue representing the sigil slaying the evening in the form of a ghastly vampire with a flaming sword, you see the Chieften of Fire Sorren Bloodfist The Revenger of Blighting Vale pacing back and forth, incapable of a moment of calm and quiet, literally arguing with the voices in his head, said to be the un-souled mortals that he has slain and sent back to their infernal masters, “gah, ur, come girl, I have been idle too long and the blood upon my hands has dried and flaked away into the nghtwinds and ghostlands.” he says, and turns without waiting for you to catch up or really respond.
As you arrive at the top of the stairs up to the Radiant Chamber, standing in the foyer
You are summoned to the Citadel of the Last Dawn, the tallest structure in Paradygm
Tyson
Obsessive and neurotic collector of little plastic men, novels about the same little plastic men and paints to make the little plastic men pretty. Married to Kera, who puts up with him and pretends that she doesn’t hear him speaking to the little plastic men in between making pew pew noises in the hobby room. Requires adult supervision. A menace to himself but rarely to others. More beard than man