Theldrick Kane felt weary. Though it had been ten years since he had fought the Red Hand, his body ached as if it had been one hundred. As he hobbled through Brindol with his cane, he could still hear the screams as man and monster died; he could still see the smoke as Brindol burned; he could still feel the sweat on his brow and palms as that horde rushed through the shattered gates. Much was different now for Theldrick. Though he had moved on, he couldn’t help but feel an impending dread. Something was stirring; He could feel the winds of change and it was killing him to be powerless to stop it this time.
Theldrick needed to pray for guidance this night. Though, like him, the temple was beginning to show its age, the old priest knew the temple of Bahamut would always stand in Brindol. As he neared the temple steps, he smiled. Only in service to the Platinum Dragon could Theldrick Kane find peace. For over 50 years the man had faithfully served his god, both in peace and in war, and he knew his end was fast approaching.
Pulling open the door, Theldrick glanced back; the sun was setting red. Merely a bad omen, or a sign of things to come? In the priest’s experience it was often both; and almost always, it was only the beginning. For himself, for Brindol, for the Elsir Vale, for the rest of Thesus, and even for the gods themselves, Theldrick prayed that night.