Grave digger“Death is a tragic thing. The tragedy is not the fact the life is over, but the fact that an eternity of afterlife is judged on such a short period.”

- Unknown Undertaker
in the plague districts of Galt

Standing in an impossibly long line, you wait for judgement from the Goddess Pharasma. The bone yard is the gateway to eternity, where the goddess of Prophesy views deep into your past and future to determine your rightful place in the cosmos. Ice people walking in dark

Your death, personal to you, but in this line of thousands, seems insignificant. Cries of panic and laughter of insanity carry on the winds of ages, moving through the countless number of souls waiting for judgment.

Stepping on a platform made of bones, the view of the bone yard is breathtaking. The loneliness and fear deadens your senses as you view hundreds of thousands of souls rotting away a thousand feet below.

A voice catches your attention, “Those are the unworthy, beings not fit to leave this realm.”, snapping you back to the matter at hand. Your eyes catch the man behind you, a man wearing armor of war, symbols that you cannot make out. His eyes dead, his skin ashen. You see in a reflecting of his silver garb a face, barely familiar, eyes deaden, skin ashen. Hope fleeing. Your only answer to your life seems to be at the end of this slowly moving and impossibly long line.

An eternity seems to go by, buzzing of small creatures feeding on the fresh flesh of the soon-to-be-judged. A tall woman sits on a thrown, hair white ash skin. Her long nail points at you, and your soul opens for all to view.
“You have lived a noble life, with good following your every step, but I see the blackness that resides at your core and judgment falls to this.”

She points her hand towards a portal, it’s emptiness saps all essence of your being, “To Abaddon”

Hands grab you and throw your weakened form in the blackness. Screams, pain and suffering, these are the visions that pour into your mind. A realm of utter destruction and spiritual annihilation, a plane of terror and annihilation awaits you.

Your body falls from the sky, others sentenced to your fate plummet in the distance. Winged creatures dive and snatch bodies, their bones cracking and screams silencing. Your helpless body drifts in the night, until impact into the muddy pools of the floor below. The acidic waters burn your flesh, and as you hit the floor, crystals embed deep into your flesh.

As you surface, pain warps your body and you feel the embrace of the land. Exiting the waters, the glow of the crystals yearns for souls to consume, your directives are clear.

“Pharasma,” you scream into the night sky, “how dare you judge me in such ways. I will return and prove your wrong. I will return!!!”

The sounds of scavengers catches your attention. You must flee. Others are nearby, all judged in like fashion, together you can survive. Together, you can grow in power and right this wrong.

But first, you need souls…

Cast into Abaddon