The Pantheon
In a cave in a mountain, four beings sit. One is a Merfolk, one is an Elf, one is a Kithkin, one is a Treefolk, and one is a Flamekin. Conspicuously absent are any imperfections. However, where an elf to wander in, he would find four of the most beautiful elves he could find. Rushing to tell his friends, he would wander back to the cave to find an empty cave. Searching for a trace of the beautiful elves he would eventually find a dark stairway. Descending the stairway, his friends long gone, figuring the "beautiful elves" to be a kind of joke, would find himself being preyed on by five beastly creatures. The four beings are in truth the champions of the Elemental Incarnations, the most powerful beings on the planet. Until Ashling the Pilgrim came. The Flamekin, his fantasy of prey brought to an abrupt end by the thought of Ashling, realizes that the Dark Elf has stood up. Although all four Incarnations are considered equal, the Elf wields the Deathrender. If he were to be killed, his Lord, Dread, would be manifested on this plane. The presence of Dread would undoubtedly bring forth the apocalypse. And Dread, that cold, calculating being, would not want to bring on the Apocalypse until the time was right. The Dark Elf begins speaking. "Avatars, those gifted by the great Incarnations with the Runed Stalactites of the Elements, we are gathered here today to discuss a threat to us. Avator of Hostility, may you explain this threat?"
"Indeed." The Flamekin stands up. "A being named Ashling, who I once wished to be my mate..."
The Dark Elf coughs. "There is no need for us to know about your previous, mortal existence."
The Flamekin seems to turn a brighter shade of red at this. "Indeed. As I was saying, this Ashling seems to be an Avatar...Like us."
Guile's avatar, a wizardly Merfolk skilled in the countering and removal of spells from the Plane of Lorwyn, speaks up. "What? We represent the Elemental Incarnations. Your Lord, Hostility, would be this 'Ashling's' patron."
"Indeed," says the Flamekin. "We must find out who is the patron of this Ashling. I believe it may be one from...beyond Lorwyn."
The Kithkin gasps and begins sputtering. "What are you fools talking about? Gracious Lord Purity has assured me that nothing can get in and out of the plane. To say otherwise is..Blasphemy!" He advances toward the Flamekin, prompting the Elf to draw Deathrender.
The Kithkin spits. "What, the Deathrender again? You wanna fight?" He laughs. "You don't have the guts. You're just a wimp, waving around that sword like a big man! Whatever you are now, you were an elf, a sissy! Your Lord would never forgive you if you summoned him now and wrecked his plan! So step aside!"
The Elf grimaces. Suddenly the Kithkin falls on the floor, "If I'm touched, damaged, hurt, you will be destroyed. You shall fear me. Do you not doubt that, regardless of Deathrender, I would be the strongest one here?" With that he suddenly leaps for the squealing Kithkin. Putting Deathrender on his belt, he extends a pair of vicious claws and makes a small scratch on the Kithkin's neck. "Dead."
"GET...OFF...OF...ME!" roars the Kithkin, light flashing in his eyes. He shoots upwards, then launches himself at the Elf. As the blow lands, instead of killing the Elf, instead powerful growths appear on his body. The Kithkin shoots a betrayed look at the Treefolk, arrogantly believing the rest believed he was fit to lead. The Flamekin, sick of this infighting, stands up, his eyes flashing. Invoking the name of his Lord, his true name, not the moniker Hostility, a fie erupts. It angles towards the avatar of Vigor, the fire empowered by his Treefolk form, but instead of hurting the Treefolk it turns into seven shaman. The shaman grab the angry avatar of peace. Guile stands up. "Next time tell me. I was about to counter that spell with a Cryptic Command. I thought you meant to make our elf friend even stronger, The last thing he needs is a swelled head.
"Like you?" asks the Treefolk, who has not changed position this entire time. The Merfolk smiles. The two of them are close friends, Neither of them are hotheaded, although the Merfolk tends to be a bit arcane.
"Yes, yes," responds the Merfolk, still smiling. "Okay, so, this Ashling has a mystery benefactor. It seems to be able to created power greater than anything even we have, so we are inferring that this elemental is stronger than ours. However, Ashling, though strong, is virtuous, and will not do as this greater power asks. As a result, it is trying to overload Ashling's body, presumably to provide enough mana to manifest himself.
The Flamekin gasps. "How did you know that?"
The Merfolk smiles. "My people have a gift for it. GO now. Go and end this mystery threat-this threat from beyond the plane!"
