The Doomsayer's Throne

With each of the Gods weighing in on their thoughts about their divine sibling, the God of Oaths, it is now in the hands of the elves to decide what will be done about him. He has presented a price for forgiveness. The elves must give up their Immortality as pennance for their oath-breaking. Or, they must choose someone to replace him. The time to decide is now.

The sound of steps echoes through the streets of Thelos. The steps come to a stop in front of the cave-in blocking the entrance to the shrine of Baridon. The end of a staff lightly hits the ground.

Thalion stands before the sealed shrine, a faint frown marking his elven features. "So they've made their choice." There is a touch of bitterness in his voice. He remains silent, staring at the shrine. "It is your turn to come through," Nothing happens at first. The Oracle's lips form a thin line.

Dark clouds roll through the skies, slowing down as they settle over the Holy City. Streaks of crimson lightning crackle between them, followed by booming thunder.

There is no rain this time. But rather a bolt of red lightning striking the rocks sealing the shrine of the Blood God. When the dust finally settles, the way into the shrine is finally open. Thalion watches and exhales, looking so very tired. Still, he smiles. He leans onto his staff using it to support himself, then lifts his right hand to look at it... as it slowly breaks down into blood red dust.

"Give them a chance. They will surprise you." There's a pause. "I'm ready to pay the price for my defiance," and with those words, the rest of the Oracle's body breaks down into a fine red dust that is swiftly blown away by the wind, ending the long journey of Thalion of the Tribunal.