With Otarion’s messenger dead, the Defenders of Tennaris ready themselves to fight Otarion. But before he appears, the world shakes with a quake. Urgently, Brandt contacts Sickle, the god of dragons who fights for Order to prevail over Chaos in the end times. He summons his horde of dragons, their shadowy black hides shimmering as they flock to assist. Each adventurer chooses a dragon, climbs on its back, and immediately plummets off the side of the shard into the misty, unknown centre of the world.
For a while, the only sound is the leathery flapping of wings, the rushing of cold air sweeping by. With startling abruptness, the hosts of Good break through the encircling mists to gaze upon the Worldstone of Tennaris. Supported by stone pillars and surrounded by floating rocks, it holds together the rocky shards of the world upon which many societies live. A thunderous sound crackles through the air, every dragon trembling from the force of it.
The Worldstone cracks.
Encircling the stone is a colossal serpent, its black skin seeming to draw in the light around it. Where darkness is merely the absence of light, this serpent embodied the essence of black, the whole light-depriving nature of darkness and evil. Fluttering around it were the armies of evil; hundreds of demons seeming to lay in wait. With the appearance of the Defenders on their dragons, they let out a cacophonous scream and leapt from their perches to meet their enemy.
With a great gathering of courage and a strength of will, the Defenders of Tennaris push their dragons to the front, to strike straight into the heart of the demons and sweep the serpent from its perch. The clash of dragons and demons resounds through the mist, scored through by the sound of shattering bones, tearing flesh, and feral screams.
Talyn, his glowing scimitar held aloft, drives his dragon to the forefront to seek out his foe. Otarion, leader of the demon armies, is surprisingly absent. In a flash of black and red, he appears in front of Talyn, his malevolent sword slamming through the dragon’s skull. With his fly spell active, Talyn spares a thought for his fallen ally before his face twists in a smile of expectancy and fulfillment. “Otarion! I am Talyn Aurellion, and today you die by my Black Blade, the bane of demons!”
His sword limned with frost, Talyn strikes at Otarion, his sword and body blurring. Mirror images of Talyn gather and spread, encircling Otarion in a ring of illusory and solid steel. Aurora bites deep into Otarion’s armour, the joints of the steel plates freezing and hardening, slowing the demon lord’s movement. Sensing their ally’s desperate fight, Yoren, Brandt, Aaliyah, and Duello rush to flank and bring the demon down.
Aaliyah’s glimmering sword, Moonlight joins Talyn’s in a deadly dance, while Yoren’s axe slams into Otarion’s guard. Otarion, beset on all sides, turns, parries, blocks, and ripostes with a skill born of centuries of existence. His armour shimmers with every blow, lancing out at his attackers. The deadly sword, its magical effects random and terrible, swings out to score festering, black wounds.
Brandt, taking advantage of his allies’ attacks, dives in from above with a bladed dash. He disappears from view in a gust of smoke, reappearing beside Otarion and attacking him with a lightning-quick thrust. Taetha Ifaer buries itself in the armour of the demon lord before Brandt commands it to bind. It shatters into many pieces, flickering and floating in the air. They coalesce into magical, glowing chains that stretch out into dimensional portals, wrapping around Otarion’s twisting, roaring form. He shatters the chains on his arms, but is held fast by the chains.
With fury in his gaze, Otarion turns to Talyn, piercing the illusions that he has spun about himself. He speaks then, telling of the futility of their attacks. The very force of the words cuts at Talyn, slicing away his magical protections. But the elf stands resolute, passing a hand over Aurora and imbuing it with the force of lightning. The ethereal blade crackles, arcs of energy jumping to nearby objects and Talyn himself. Each mirror does the same, surrounding Otarion with a circle of electricity.
They feint, dodge, strike, before suddenly each Talyn freezes. With a great yell, they leap forward, vanishing in their speed and seeming to pierce Otarion himself. All eight forms strike at Otarion with the lightning blade, reappearing around him mid-leap. There is a flash, a terrible peal of thunder as eight simultaneous lightning bolts crackle from the mists, Otarion at their core. His form twists and a primal scream of fury sounds out, seeming to echo as the silhouette shows the chains withstanding the force of his thrashing.
The lightning fades, leaving only Otarion. Wrapped in chains and with armour glowing cherry-red, smoke drifts from the eye slits of his helmet. He looks up and laughs, his body shaking with the force of it. The twisting core of his armour seems to open, and the Eye of Tzeentch stares out. Unblinking and with the knowledge of millennia, it strikes fear into the forces of good.
“You have no hope now!”