Sentinels of the Rift Gate
Prologue: In the Shadow of a Tempest.

          The Blessed Alliance stood in the hours before dawn as dark clouds began to gather in the skies over Radiance Plains.  As the first rays of light began to rise over the Eastern Plateau, dark figures began pouring out of the Barren Peaks in the North.  With a cry the Alliance charged to meet them; units of Humans, Martyrs, Elves, and the other great races of the Flourishing World running side-by-side.  They would fight and die to the last being to protect what they knew was theirs.  Sweeping from the mountains to overcome them, the Tainted Legions had come to claim what they believed should have been theirs.  Thousands of Demons, Fallen, Drow, and other twisted denizens of the Bleak World screamed in bloodlust as they fell upon their adversaries.  Rain began to fall in sheets as the two armies began to close the gap.  As the first of the solders clashed, lightning tore across the Ebony sky.  To the gods watching from the heavens that moment seemed to stand still, as all the deities voiced the same words, “It begins.”

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          The two figures faced each other from across the plateau that would be their battleground, a hundred yards from sheer cliff to sheer cliff.   One of the warriors bore the image of a great bird across the front of his garb.  The other’s sole piece of armor, a chest plate, was marked with the likeness of a charred, red skull.  Each stood in fighting stance with his sword ready; both knowing the only way to survive was to kill the other.  As the sun began to rise, each held the others gaze, trying to scene fear that didn’t exist in his opponent.  Rain began to fall from the dark clouds above, and from the field below came the sounds of two charging armies.  As though this had been the signal the pair had been waiting for, they sprang to strike.  As the blades met, lightning flashed.  And in the heavens the gods uttered, “It begins.”