Avraham rapped twice at the door to his brother’s room. It was not long before he heard the latch thrown and the door cracked open. A chain catch allowed the door to open only so far. The air that rushed from the room into the hall was an overpowering mix of incense and sulfur. Avraham struggled to maintain his composure. Odimm’s face was seen in the opening.
“I need to speak to Crandal, Odimm,” Avraham stated. His voice was flat.
“Can’t help you. Crandal is off sorting some scrolls for me. He’ll be busy for quite some time. You know how compulsive he’s become lately.”
Avraham fixed his eyes on Odimm’s. “What are you doing in there?”
Odimm met his gaze, unflinching. “It’s none of your concern. Now move along. Crandal will send for you when he is ready.”
Avraham considered Odimm’s words for a moment. “No. I don’t think so. You may hold sway over Crandal, but you have nothing I want. Let me in, now.”
Odimm tried to snap the wooden door shut, but the toe of Avraham’s left boot was already in the way. The catch chain slackened a bit, but the door could not be closed.
“I have something you want. Your brother.”
Avraham took a small step back, unblocking the door. Odimm believed that Avraham was giving up and began closing the door.
The paladin’s placed his booted foot flat on the middle of the door, down low, and kicked with great force. If the catch chain had been taut, the door may have held and what followed would never have occurred. As it was, the chain was slack and the door almost closed. The force of Avraham’s kick forced the door inward. It’s arc paused only briefly when the catch snapped at it’s end and gave way with a sound like wood snapping and metal pinging.
The edge of the door struck Odimm in the forehead and knocked him sprawling to the floor of the drawing room of Crandal’s inn suite.
Avraham surveyed the room. All looked as it should be, except for a deep purple veil that covered the doorway to the suite’s bedroom. Through it’s translucence, Avraham could see several dark shapes moving. Their forms and movement seemed unnatural.
The feeling of being watched beset him immediately. It was a sign of something. Something he had felt before whenever specific beings were present. He spun on his heel to face Odimm, towering over him. Odimm was still recovering from his knock to the head. He was using the sidetable to try to stand again.
“Are you involved in demonology again? What am I going to find on the other side of that veil?”
Odimm only glared at him from the floor. He would not answer.
Avraham took two steps to the doorway. He grabbed a fistful of the fabric and pulled down hard. The veil dropped to the floor.
The room’s furniture was all pushed up against the walls, leaving the center of the room for the dark work, Avraham saw before him. Three men in black robes lay dead on the floor around a circle. The circle was composed of runes that had been burned into the floor, still glowing with a faint light that was not fueled by normal fire. Over the runes was a malevolent patch of darkness that hummed constantly. As Avraham approached the portal, he faintly heard voices. They spoke in whispers, barely audible and in a language unknown to him. Somehow, he understood them anyway. They spoke of madness, bondage, and murder. They were seductive with promises of ancient knowledge and the answers of existence. Under all of this muted cacophany, there was a driving compulsion to obey and be rewarded.
Avraham was immediately revulsed, and turned away. Odimm had already recovered and was holding his head in his hand at the doorway.
Avraham was still taken aback by the sight, but managed to ask, “what do you hope to gain from all this. The Legion lies. You will never get what they have promised.”
Odimm replied in one word. “Discord.”
Avraham had a moment to consider what this meant, before he he sensed that someone was standing behind him. He spun in time to see the an axe swinging at his head, and only just in time to duck out of the way.
The Felguard on the other end of the axe was massive, towering at least a foot and a half over the paladin. Thick, curved spines stuck out of it’s shoulders and head, formeing something that looked like a clawed hand grasping for the sky. It’s head was protected by a helm that allowed the fel light from it’s eyes to shine out. It’ smiddle was bare but well muscled. It’s waist, legs and feet were shod in red steel plates that made it extremely heavy and hard to injure.
The Felguard’s swing was long and deliberate. When it missed Avraham’s head, it continued on into a large wardrobe, shattering it into splinters and spilling it’s contents onto the floor.
Avraham was quick to react. He brought his hand up and let fly a jolt of pure holy energy. He was attempting to sever the demon’s connection to the world, which would send it back into the Twisting Nether. His attempt was strong, but the demon recovered both it’s axe and it’s fortitude.
Avraham as running out of options. He had come to this place neither armed, nor armored. He was not expecting to have to fight in his brother’s room. He knew that eventually the one of the demon’s swings would connect. That would be it for this man of the Light.
The Felguard struck out again, this time with his fist. This blow caught Avraham in the shoulder as he attempted to dodge. He staggered to the floor. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
Out of the portal stepped three imps. Their noses and ears were overly long and grotesque. They spoke in shrill voices, taunting him and calling out for the Felguard to kill him.
The Felguard took a heavy booted step toward Avraham. It grabbed him by the back of his shirt and picked him up in the air. Then it threw him across the room where he landed in a stunned heap in front of the portal.
The imps had to move out of the way to avoid being hit by the paladin as he landed. They cackled with glee. Each of them grabbed a leg and wrestled with the now kicking Avraham.
More imps came through the portal. They overpowered Avraham, restraining his arms and standing on his back. Slowly they dragged him back to the portal.
Avraham fought them, but could do little to stop them. The voices in the portal became louder. They made promises and threats, spoke of things that Avraham had spent his life fighting against. As they pulled him into the portal, Avraham spoke one last time.
Before the portal swallowed him, he said, “Ian is going to Northrend. Tell Crandal.”
Then he was gone.
