The form of Lord Vynmylak hovers over Thera, as he sternly surveys the lands.

Suddenly, the Maran lord's face is overcome with disappointment.

Glaring down into the Palace, he sighs knowing the crystal orb anguishes within.

Glancing around for his mortal brethren, who have sworn to keep the orb safe...
he becomes enraged.

One is drunk and the others are in idle chatter.

Raising a burnished steel clarion to his lips, he bellows a mournful dirge.

The mortal forms of Mereacon, Lazireeke and Anyldor scream as the clarion call
strikes them down.

They awaken, outcasts of the Fortress.