Beams of indescribable color streak across the sky as a great deal of Chaos Magic is released from its vessel.

Raw mana crackles around the corpse of the one and only Gilversplitz as his constant, incomprehensible scheme nears its end.

A cadre of masked children soon appear and gently lay a withered shred of ancient raccoon skin over the gnome's severely disfigured form.

They begin to drag the body toward their skiff on Sea of Despair, but pause as the his tiny body begins to quiver violently and deflate.

They watch, transfixed, as something crawls out of the corpse's mustachioed mouth, rises to its feet, and dives into the black waters...

...and then they wordlessly continue their journey, sailing past the Prismatic Veil and vanishing into swirling fog.

At The Spire and the Battleragers' Village alike, the news is met with stunned silence. This generation has never known a world without Gilversplitz.

As it turns out, the only thing more confounding than Gilversplitz...

...is a world without him.