Blast from the Past: Karak Bitafjall

The path leads to a tunnel mined out of a mountain. It is difficult to discern the shape of the mountain as it disappears into the heavy fog. As you step through the portal the smell of fresh ash assaults you. You follow the path for the better part of an hour when you suddenly hear sloshing footsteps behind you. A half rotten corpse sprints towards you in the dark. You hastily prepare to defend yourself as the stench of it’s rotten flesh assaults you. The corpse is already on top of you before you can react, but it sprints passed you, almost as though it could not even see you. You can hear more sloshing as more and more undead run by you. It seems they can not touch or harm you. You continue along the path and a terrifying scream fills the air as you enter a large cavern, In the distance you recognize a burning Karak Bitafjall. There where the statue of Lord Stormguard, the first king of the dwarves, should be, a colossal black dragon stands. You can tell that the city is about to fall as hordes of undead storm through the walls. Suddenly a small red orb appears above the great gate. The ground below you flows as you are drawn closer. The orb expands in bright red lightning as a portal materializes within. Wn mans hand emerges from the portal, the lightning shooting from it slowly expanding the portal. The man steps into the portal, bracing it to hold it open.

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Akkarin Landon

You suddenly realize you are right next to the portal as Avelana roseheart steps through. Behind him Lord Stormwind steps through. He looks haggard and is limping from a fresh wound, but the sword he is holding captivates you. It is pure black, but glows with energy. Finally a man wearing only leather pants carrying a large two handed sword emerges.

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Drogo Thinka/spoiler] He has countless scars hidden under the fresh blood covering his brown skin.
Avelana Turns to the man that held the portal open and nods to him. He finally steps through and collapses as the portal drops behind him. They look at eachother with weary eyes and with a sigh she offers her left hand and helps the man up. “Can you get us there Akkarin?” she asks. He looks over the hoards and shakes his head, “I’m sorry sister, there are too many...” Suddenly you hear a voice above you. “Perhaps I could be of assistance little sister?” As you look up you see a boy with two swords shaped like enormous question marks on his back. “Diconom?” Avelana exclaims, her voice a mixture of worry and joy.
The world shifts again and you see the group moving forward, guarded by a shield of darkness that consumes the hordes. A giant strikes but flies backwards as a flying curved sword decapitates him. Suddenly the world comes into focus. In front of you lies the black dragon, cut in two just like the mountain. In the distance you hear the wails of a wounded giant beast. [spoiler]Paramunth

Turning you see the Group, Avelana cradling the wounded dwarf. He is barely whispering but you hear his voice echo through the halls. “Thank you for saving my people. They are stubborn and borish, but i can’t help but love them.” As he slowly fades into nothingness, leaving not even a body behind.
The world fades again as you find yourself in a council chamber. Dwarven clan leaders are shouting at each other, trying to organize their city. Suddenly a voice rings through the chambers, “QUIET!!!!” Everyone turns and sees a young dwarf. You recognize him as the first son of Lord Stormguard. “We have spent the past decades fighting a losing war and we will not demean ourselves like this.” He steps on the table he was just sitting at and jumps onto the ground. Walking forward towards where you can see the avatars and a few other non dwarvish people sitting. “We are truly thankful for your aid in our time of need. It is a debt that shall remain in our books ever more, unpayable in its extent.” He slowly goes down on his knees. “I, Chief of the Tordenvejr, pledge peace and support to you until our debt has been paid.” The halls grow silent as he bows. No one dares speak until you hear a dwarf speak from the back, not given a place at the table. “We of Hvidtfal join your pledge.” The dwarves around grumble angrily before one after another rise, pledging their allegiance.
The room fades, replaced with a saloon. Within only the group from the final battle are hanging out, along with a single wounded wizard you do not recognize.

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Paramunth

Suddenly the man you know as Akkarin speaks. “What do we do with the undead?” The silence weighs heavily as the maid brings a meal in, the delicious smell of the hardy dwarven meal mingling with the fermented dwarven ale. “If we destory them they will just come back again and again.” Avelana sais dejectadly. “Then we kill them again!” “And waste life after life?!” The conversations quickly devolves between Akkarin and Drogo as Avelana Roseheart stares into the void. “I’ll take care of it.” Everyone turns to the boy who is now standing on his seat to reach eye level of the others. “It’s not your job Diconom, we need-” Akkarin begins before Diconom interrupts him. “It isn’t any of our job, yet here we are little brother...” Without another word the boy heads toward the door.
Finally, before the vision finally fades leaving you in the empty plains, you watch a young woman with two question mark shaped swords leading a horde of undead through a tunnel.