Plane of Ner'Zhul
The wheel of fate in Ner’Zhul began to turn this year, and those that have the strength and determination to grind their essence against that wheel have begun to rise from the dust of those that inhabit this world. A blue flash of light erupted from the city of the Chosen and headed straight up until it struck the crystal in the sky causing a torrent of magic to pour out. The visible explosion of magic caught the eyes of anyone top side of the world and has caused the main city to become unstable. Many strange and dangerous effects have started to take place in the city causing its residents to turn to other cities. The Chosen have taken control of the Darklings territory and have begun to collect their strength to retaliate.
The major cities have taken in an influx of refugees from the capitol and the smaller cities that have fled in fear. An angel was spotted in the northeast of the continent with a battalion of aasimar marching behind him. They have removed any threats from their surroundings but remain in their area, the forest.
The crystal in its erratic state has pulled larger and more powerful things into the world. Some of these displaced objects have appeared on the surface as well with a castle forming in the ruins of the capitol. This castle resides on a spire that had risen from the ground causing the relic that had provided the river to become dislodged and the river to run dry.
In wake of the growing tension there has been an uprising of the lower races fleeing to join up with the aasimar and their new angelic commander. The people of Bastion have started to come out of their dens as well and have assembled a network of supply points for the aasimar.
The less savory characters of the world have begun to amass a horde as well in the depths of the mountains. A great rumbling has been heard by those living near it, meanwhile the Chosen are out in the surrounding cities recruiting for their cause.
The rise of the Commander, the angel leader, hit a snag when the Darkling mountains had a swarm of winged beasts fly forth with goblin riders on their backs. These dark riders swept across the outlying cities that the aasimar and their army had established, raining fire and hot metal upon the heads of those below.
Resources in the land have begun to dry up, causing the military effort of both sides to become hard to maintain. Rumors have surfaced that the next year will be the deciding battle.
Local heroes, fathers, mothers, children, shopkeepers, and those of every race and profession are choosing sides, but many, if not the majority of those in this world are without direction. In the mysterious castle that had arisen beneath the fractured crystal a dense mist has formed and dark shadows move within it. The crystal that had provided life and light to the world descended into the mist and into the inner courtyard of the castle as seen by those with magical talents. The fate of the world will be decided soon.
Our adventurers have been approached by those affiliated with Bastion, and have been given a time and place to meet. A champion of Bastion will meet them at this time and place to lead them to the main camp where they can assist the cause. They have been chosen to serve as a unit and if they should show up then their answer is yes. The time is a week after the shifting of the underground at the crossroads where both ends of the capitol road meet in the east.