Several tears in the fabric of space and time appeared on Earth. Each one of these rifts were portals that allowed beings from the infernal plane to invade Earth. Without conjurations or rituals to keep them in check, demons began to completely take over communities. Some of the largest cities became post human societies. Wildlife has been corrupted by radiation from the infernal plane.

The Underworld, a bureaucratic realm dedicated to keeping balance, seeks out mercenaries and agents to quell demonic disturbances and eliminate the rifts.



A drone hovered the base of the mountains.

There was a sighting of a large rift, portals into the infernal plane, hell. It had been five years and what was some of the most vibrant, populated human cities had shifted into post-human, demon-centric communes. The Underworld tried to make do, send agents of their own to try and seal portals, quell demonic disturbances and ensure a safe life for Earth's metaphysicals and mundane alike.

The drone took several aerial shots.

There seemed to be a group of dark elves ready to strike down whoever came close to the rift to try and close it. It was hard to capture images of them, they naturally used magick to evade detection of thermal imaging. Thankfully, drones these days were outfitted with lenses that could cut past the bullsh*t and view the auras of living beings.

These guys had been becoming more and more of a problem, they refused to see the rifts go shut. They'd camp out, greet demons (if said demons weren't feral and didn't go on a massive killing spree afterwards) and consorted with them, if it had the charisma and power to rule over that particular tribe of Drow.

Turned out Drow believed in all sorts of weird sh*t. Like preparing themselves to be brides to literal demons, have an affinity with spiders and slave races weaker than them... and their own men too.

In order to restore this region, three things had to be done.

The Drow had to go for starters. It was going to be hard, they were shadowy and downright conniving killers that made a game out of killing agents that got in their way.

Of course, the rift needed to be sealed. A shaman or a mage would be required to get that rift closed.

Third, the infernal pollution needed to be dealt with. That's probably not going to be the job of the crew seeking to close out the rift, but the term 'infernal pollution' included invasive demons who made a home out of sapping the life force the area around them.

There was one such drow that didn't particularly conform to tradition. Chalk that up to being a hermit and a mutt. According to an ancestry test, she was a mix between high and dark elf. Those races didn't particularly get along. To be a mix of that sort, something terrible had to have happened.

Ryl Baenmyr’yltar.

Ryl's earliest memories were unfortunately influenced by that. Where she'd forcefully try and trudge through the sands of an underground cavern. Every time she tried to take a break, she was whipped to go faster by a drow in spiked chitinous armor.

It took seven years of searching for an opportunity, but she finally escaped into a metaphysical commune and never turned back.

To see a gaggle of drow surrounding the rift gave her bad memories. But she couldn't step away, she hated herself too much for that. If there was going to be anybody to make sure the Drow got what they deserved, it was her.

She was going to need a crew before tackling the rift. And fast, before she'd have this contract swiped from underneath her nose.

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3 | May 15th 2019 11:02