60th Ymiden, 719
The Crags
The Crags
It began, as many of the dangers in Yaralon did, with a fracture.
It tore open within a cliff on The Crags bordering near the murky bogs of Maidens Refuge, creating horrendous waves and whirlpools in the water around it that chased the nearby wildlife away. From out of the rock rose a crooked tower of pale slate grey stone; a jagged eyesore even among the murky surroundings. Although the structure itself seemed like it could have been man made, the stone it was built from was clearly unnatural. It was freezing to the touch, so cold in fact that it robbed all the heat from the surrounding area and shrouded the air in a chilly mist. Just looking upon it gave people a horrible sense of stillness; as if they were prey cowering in silence as a huge predator passed by. Something in the air, some awful reverence, made all living creatures instinctively want to whisper in its presence, as if shouting and screaming would anger it somehow.
While definitely one of the more unusual things to come out of a fracture, the bigger mercenary companies had more pressing matters to deal with at the time: demon's were invading, pirates had formed some kind of raiding alliance with the Ivorian navy, and there were still a handful of mages running around who, despite having Emea's regular source of ether back, had developed something of an addiction to flaying life force and were randomly attacking civilians. Because of that the contract to investigate the tower had fallen into the hands of a medium sized company named the Jaguar Clan, whose leader swore on her honour would see the tower either conquered or destroyed by the season's end.
Thirty trials later, the tower still stood.
Posters were put up all across Yaralon, calling for individuals possessing unique skills to come and aid the Jaguar Clan in return for a large share of whatever loot was plundered from within the fracture. Whether it was in response to these posters or for another reason Cervantez, Kisaik and Rabu would find themselves at the Jaguar Clan's campsite, mingling among the small group of other Yari who had answered the Jaguars' call. It was midday by the time that the commander came to speak to them. She was a young aukari woman with a stern expression chiseled by constant frowning, and dark red hair pulled back into a painfully tight bun.
"Listen up!" She shouted, grabbing the groups attention immediately with her no-nonsense tone. "It's time you were briefed on the situation. The tower we're attempting to conquer follows a strange set of rules. The front door is the only entrance, however the door will not open unless a group of exactly three people stands before it and will only do so once per trial. I have sent numerous troops in already however so far none have returned, and we cannot communicate with those inside the tower to find out why. I can only conclude that there is some kind of obstacle within that my troops cannot overcome with sheer combat ability. Therefor your mission is to go in, find my troops and assist them in making their way to our target: the heart of this fracture. The troops I sent in earlier all had enough supplies to last them a dozen or so trials, weapons and survival equipment, and will share it with you if needed, however anything else you will have to bring yourself. Are there any questions?"
Any questions the group asked would be answered at this point. When they were done the commander's eyes quickly scanned the group. Perhaps because of their rather distinctive appearances and the unusual equipment some of them wore her eyes alighted on Cervantez, Kisaik and Rabu, who she pointed out from the crowd. "You, you and you, you're up first. Come with me. The rest of you get into groups of three."
With a brisk walk she set off, leading the way up a path from the campsite to the cliff the tower was perched upon. The chill in the air and the ominous aura sank deeper into their bones the further along they went, until fairly soon they stood just a few feet away from the structure. Directly in front of them was a huge, heavy portcullis of wrought black iron dusted in small icicles. The commander backed off away from them, and as if sensing the presence of an acceptable team the portcullis creaked open, allowing them passage inside.