You are on the world of Coroleya a land filled with mythical creatures and monsters. There you will fight for your right to exist every single day. Survive and you'll become stronger. Lose and you will die a miserable death like the many creatures...
In the aftermath of the battle in the hall, Dywin whispers to you that the creature that had hidden itself behind the feral dwarves was one of the Ancients that you'd heard about. Terrible and powerful creatures that have somehow managed to regain control of their mind.
Curious to learn more about creatures, you gesture once more for Dywin to guide the way, while you listen intently to his words.
"Long ago in days gone past, there lived an ancient and great race of dwarven warriors called the Dorkirlium (Dworkin for short). These warriors imbued with great wisdom and power by our God Sezrath ruled a large empire that stretched for thousands of miles in all directions. Until one day the greatest warrior of our people Steelbiter, discovered ancient tomes that exposed the true origins of Lord Sezrath. Revealing our benevolent God to be nothing more than an primordial demon of incredible power, that bides it's time patiently, before sinking it's claws beneath our hides to steal our very souls.
Dywin pauses for a moment in his story to glance over at Gorrak, who is busily bent over whispering to Lorna heatedly. Feeling eyes upon him the huge Orc stretches up to his full height and scowls at the old dwarf. Provoking a series of sputtering coughs in the old dwarf, who blinks his bleary eyes repeatedly and hurriedly turns away to continue on with his tale. While the party enters an adjacent corridor, lined with bedrooms.
"Well, ahh where was I, ohh right... This revelation caused much discord within the lands ruled by the Dorkilium, with followers of Lord Sezrath battling against the Unbelievers. A war that shattered our grand empire into a thousand pieces. Ending the long and peaceful rein of the Dorkirlium. It was during this period of war and discord among my people, that Lord Sezrath in his righteous fury over the lost souls he had so patiently worked to attain. Inflicted upon us the greatest affliction imaginable upon all dwarven kind.Feral Dwarfs. Once our people reach a certain age, we begin to lose our minds, and become like mindless beasts that we've seen here. Creatures that have but one desire. Flesh and blood. These damaged creatures roam our halls and attack our people. But the worst of their kind are not the feral dwarves, but the beasts that have managed to survive for centuries to become Ancients. Bestial dwarves that are able to think, but still suffer from the sickness of Yearning."
You stare thoughtfully at Dywin, after he finishes his tale, and notice Gorrak gazing at him with a strangely worried expression on his big ugly mug, when a thought occurs to you. "You said all dwarves have the sickness, and become feral dwarves. Does that mean you too will become one?" The old dwarf gives a sad smile,his brown eyes staring off into the far distance. "Aye, that will be my fate too, eventually. God's willing I still have a few more years left in me, before I too lose my mind and join them." Not sure what to say to that, you look away from the brooding Dwarf searching for something to break the tension, and see a large ornate doorway to the right of you.
