Contact was lost with a small town in Northern Balforia.
A group of adventurers were tasked to investigate. When they returned they spoke of humanoids with fish-like heads that worship a strange god. They spoke of how the townsfolk were penned like cattle in a cave next to a great seal in the ground covered in Ooloi runes.
And they spoke of the great evil the emerged from the crack in that seal. How it rose from the black depths and laid waste to their party with barely a gesture, how it’s milky eyes looked upon them like they were less than vermin.
It spoke to them without a sound. It commanded them to teach it of their world.
One of these adventurers stood in the face of this evil, a last defiant gesture, before he was slain. The survivors speak of how Felix Castlemore, a mere street performer, drew his daggers and stabbed the beast before his mind was flayed.
A great evil stirs, and now it knows of the kingdoms above. It has learned of the technologies that have been developed in the thousands of years since the Underdark was sealed below.
May the future tremble and the races of the world prepare. Srok’Thirik walks the lands above and his thirst for knowledge is unquenchable.