Snippet #2286151

"What was once made must be remade, but the bindings of old must be rewritten." Of all those assembled, Lobos was possibly the most unusual in appearance, his beastly appearance fearsome to countenance. A god's blood ran through the wolf's veins, and his rumbling voice escaped his closed jaw like muted thunder. "Pacts made anew, but chains this one will not abide."

Chaos was the alignment of the demi-god, plain to see as one beheld him. The guise of an immense wolf, snow white man roiling despite the lack of stirring wind. Shifting runes gleamed on the metal of his few armor pieces, ringing the obelisk that hovered at his back. His nature was war, that of the frozen storms. He walked the mortal plane himself, yet in doing so withheld his own interventions unless necessary.

"There are some responsible for this twisting of the planes that no mere mortals can stand against. Eventually one of us will have their hand forced." Shifting on his paws, Lobos, the Wolf of Winter, settled. "To this we must account."

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Another hooded figure, however, had watched Taima, Selphina, and Lobos speak in turn. His presence here was...tenuous, he knew, for his was a darker patronage. One need look no further than the armor he wore and the dagger at his belt to know him for what he was. Thus was the god, Cotillion.

"I do believe that both of your concerns are one and the same. The breaking of the old pacts freed powers to act. Order and chaos war anew. And this unbound struggle brings us together."

The glint of eyes within the shadows of his shroud. This patron of assassins, a lord of the place between light and the darkness, studied the others in attendance. "Yet the dragonborn speaks of more than mere unbalance. She calls for order, at the same time as calling for us to band together."

"These are the words oft heard before war. What then, is our enemy?"