Among the pillars that seemed to stretch endlessly the voice whispered clearly "There are those that say the world will end in fire, in violence, in pain." It didn't echo, but filled the space, as if coming from everywhere all at once. Besides the voice, and the sounds the companions made, it was utterly silent and still. Like the voice, the dim light had no discernible source.
"We aren't here to chit chat." Rathgar yelled out. The sound was swallowed by the immensity of the room.
Feris looked around "It's a trick. The temple isn't this big, not on the outside, and I don't think we went through a portal."
"It will be very peaceful, the end... when it comes... and it's coming."
Allianora's lips moved in silent prayer, and when she opened her eyes, they glowed softly. "There's no magic here that I can see... Nor anything evil or invisible?" She blinks twice and looks around again, then slumps. Feris catches her before she falls to the ground.
From somewhere deeper into the room came the sound of rustling fabric. "It will be quiet... and cool. The world will lay down and sleep eternally. The sun will set, and never rise again. The stars will blink out of the sky one by one. Darkness will settle upon all, as all is consumed in the Eternal Night."
"Spread out, but keep in sight. We've got to find this guy."
Off in the distance, a band of robed figures steps out from behind pillars and approach, blades in hand.
Emissaries of the Eternal Night
Armor Class: 5
Hit Dice: 8*** (M)
Move: 150' (40')
Attacks: Spell or 1
Damage: By Spell or 2d6
No. Appearing: 1d6 (2d6)
Save As: C8
Treasure Type: G
XP Value: 2,300
The Far Realm has a tendency to destroy most mortals that come into contact with it, but a few suffer a worse fate. Twisted in both mind and body they act as a seed, a crack through which horrors can come into the world. By gathering around them more and more followers they can hasten the absorption of the world into the far realm.
The cast spells as an 8th level Wokan, and often have access to unusual spells not found elsewhere, forged out of their own madness. In combat they will always attempt to cast spells and will only engage in physical combat if there's no other choice. They are also be accompanied by 1d12 cultists (use bandit stats) and 1d6 fanatics (berzerkers) each, all of whom will unflinchingly throw their lives away for their Emissary. Their lairs have an unfortunate tendency to bend the rules in weird ways, appearing larger or smaller, entirely devoid of magic or overwhelmingly magical, or anything else a twisted DM can come up with.