The rift opens. Dark matter pours through the dimly lit room, all but on
torch flickering and dying with protracted hisses. Delken Tien, his large
presence filling the room, glances at the remnants of his order, all that
remains of a revolutionary force of Jotuns seeking to break the cycle of
violence that had destroyed so much of Delkens culture and people. At
first, it appeared there were many who would prefer a way of peace to the
bloodthirsty and wanton destruction so typical in Jotun society. Then the
rifts came. Through them poured malicious beasts and dark gods, seeking
power and fortune from the lives of the weak. Delken had felt taken aback
at the darkness that had overcome so many of the converts he had worked so
hard for. Alone and concerned for the future of his people, he had happened
upon another Jotun, her own powers failing her as the dark gods filled the
sky with their power. She had found something, a diamond among the refuse
that littered their world. A god of Light. She would send Delken to this
place, making this new world his home, so that he could challenge the
Darkness and possibly stem the tide that threatened both worlds. She looks
upon him now, her eyes hooded and face ragged. She would not survive,
Delken knew this and so did she. Still, there was naught else they could
do, but hope and pray. As he stepped forward, a tugging pulled at his
boots, he felt himself break and the world scream.
