From certain death to possible damnation. We had defeated the gnolls only to learn of worse threats.
The warnings of fallen heroes grated against my ears like dry leaves across a cold gravestone but my fellows and I believed the words spoken by the dead. The Guardian, an abyssal wyrm from the fiery pits would need to be dealt with and then a foul construct of rolling death – doom sphere golem it is called. These and more would await to sever us from this mortal coil.
All the while time was passing for the captured villagers of Threshold.
We would have to go slower than I would like but go forward I would. Let the hordes of fiendish demon lords come forth, my soul is iron, my aim is true, my blood is vengeance, my arrows… unleashed!