See the miniatures from this incredible story The Heroes of Stormrift
Part I: The Breaking Sky
The wind screamed over the cliffs of Durnvale, dragging sleet like glass shards across the stone. Below, the sea writhed, dark and furious beneath clouds that churned like a wounded god's rage. No gulls. No sun. Only the storm.
Five figures stood before the shattered wardstone of Stormrift Keep.
"What in the Nine Skies cracked this?" grunted Brogar Dundrason, running thick fingers over a rune split clean down its center. Sparks hissed and died beneath his calloused thumb.
"Something old," Althas Fenrow said, voice low. "And angry."
Calbraith Orlewyn said nothing. Her hand rested on the hilt of Larkshear, her mother-forged longsword. Her gaze swept the ruined stone, the claw marks, the scorched earth.
"I don't like it," she muttered. "Too quiet."
"Not for long," added Rennyn Aeralis, strumming a sharp chord on his harp, Whim. The strings trembled with tension. "This is the kind of silence that gets a tale started. Usually ends badly for someone." He paused, sniffed the air. "Smells like roasted crab and ancient doom."
Vaessa Lirael knelt beside a broken glyphstone. "This place was warded against shadowbeasts and hellkin. Three layers. They're all gone. Torn like spiderwebs."
Cal turned to Althas. "You said the breach was stable."
"It was," he muttered. "Two days ago. Something widened it. Something hungry."
Lightning split the clouds, green and seething. Thunder shook the cliff. From the rift above the sea, a shape slithered through long, scaled, and wrong. Winged in shredded storm and crowned in light-devouring horns.
"Riftwyrm," Althas whispered. "And not just any. That's a deep one. Old blood."
"Tell me we have a plan," Cal said, drawing Larkshear.
Brogar rolled his shoulders. "Axe, yelling, and mild panic. Same as always."
Part II: Ash and Salt
They ran.
Down the cliffside. Through the shattered gates. Across the once-mighty courtyard now strewn with debris, bones, and shards of skyglass.
"North wing!" Cal barked. "Hold the flank! Brogar, you're with me!"
Brogar grunted. "Aye, aye. Just give me something to hit. Preferably not squishy."
Rennyn slid down a bannister, playing a tune that bent the air. His music shimmered, weaving a spell of slowing. Time thickened.
The Riftwyrm screeched above, its voice warping the wind.
"That's not a roar," Rennyn muttered. "That's... sadness. Furious, echoing sadness."
Vaessa bent over a wounded knight. Her hands glowed green as she sealed a gut wound. The man gasped.
"Is it real?" he asked.
"Very," she said. "And it's not your time. Now get up and find a spear."
Althas was already gone, descending into the depths. The heartstone chamber called to him, its old magic flickering like a dying candle.
Cal met the beast first.
It tore through the tower above her, scattering stone like gravel. She ducked, rolled, then leapt, driving Larkshear across one scaled cheek. It screeched, the wound glowing.
"That's right! You want fire? Come take it!"
Brogar appeared beside her, axe spinning. "You know, I was gonna retire. Brew beer. Start a tavern. Now I'm fighting sky-snakes!"
"Shut up and swing!"
He did.
Part III: The Heartstone
Deep beneath the keep, Althas reached the heartstone chamber. Three pylons ringed a central platform where the core hovered, flickering.
"Time to wake up, old friend," he said.
He placed both palms on the stone. Flames crawled up his arms. Runes sparked in the air.
He screamed. The magic demanded price.
"I give myself," he whispered. "But I won't be enough."
He carved their names into the stone. Cal. Brogar. Vaessa. Rennyn. His own last.
The stone pulsed once. Then again.
Part IV: The Rift Opens
The Riftwyrm dove. Its scream shattered windows, boiled water, cracked stone. Soldiers fled. Some dropped to their knees.
Cal stood her ground.
"HEY! UGLY!"
She leapt from a turret and slashed down its snout. It shrieked.
Brogar dropped from above, both boots landing on its neck, axe buried in bone.
"That's for scaring the bard!"
"I wasn't scared!" Rennyn shouted from a balcony. "I was composing under duress!"
He played again. Lightning surged from the keep's stones, up into the beast's wing. It twisted, falling.
But not dead.
"Althas!" Vaessa cried. "Now would be a great time for wizardry!"
Part V: The Burning Pact
The runes were ready.
Althas shouted the words. The heartstone ignited.
Above, roots burst from the earth as Vaessa summoned the last of her strength. "You want pain? Take mine!"
The wyrm struck. She held.
Cal's blade pierced its heart. Brogar's axe took its spine. Rennyn sang a final, terrible note.
And Althas released the storm.
A pillar of fire roared skyward.
The rift collapsed.
Part VI: The Price
Silence.
Ash fell like snow.
The keep still stood. Barely.
"We alive?" Brogar asked.
"Define alive," Rennyn groaned, pulling himself out of a crater.
Althas limped into view, robe smoking. "I... may have overdone it."
Vaessa smiled. "You think?"
Cal looked to the sea. "It'll call again."
Rennyn tuned his harp. "Then we answer."
"Stormrift," Vaessa murmured. "Where the sky broke."
"And we didn’t," Cal added.
And so the tales spread of five who stood against the storm.
The Heroes of Stormrift.