The glass part of the box begins to glow. There is an image of a bald man on it. His head is covered in black vine-like tattoos. His eyes are completely white.
"I should begin by offering my apologies for the method used to summon you all here. However, due to the circumstances, there was really no other way to bring you all together. Outside of this room, the world as you knew it has changed. Something or someone has altered reality. My colleagues and I decided that the best way to have any chance of putting things to rights was to transport a group of warriors together."
He takes a drink from a cylix and continues,
"I suppose you may be wondering why my colleagues and I are unable to interfere. The answer is simple, we are not allowed. We exist beyond all the realms, and beyond the planes. Simply bringing you together was bad enough. We have paid for that act dearly."
The image on the box pulls back, revealing that the man has no legs, and only one arm. He is holding the cylix in that arm. He takes another drink and continues speaking,
"Time is of the essence, I am not drinking from this cup of my own will. When it is empty, I will be no more. Inside the backpacks is some basic equipment. In our haste to prepare, I doubt everything was divided equally. You are going to have to work together.
"Years ago, one of my cohorts had fallen in love with a mortal woman. He left our group in exile. I told my cohorts that he may be able to help you. Which is why we chose the location you have found yourself in. His name is Davdak and he can be found a in a cave a short walk from where you are now. When his mortal love died, he secluded himself there. Chances are time has made him deranged. This is the the multiverse's only hope. Find him and make him listen."
The cylix rises to his lips again. The hand that had been holding it appears melted. His face begins to blister as his eyes burst and run down his face. His torso is also melting. Chunks of his innards are not quite dissolved. They fall from him and land out of frame with squishy plopping sounds.
"Do not trust your own minds. Whatever has done this to the multiverse has also altered the memories of the people in it..."
Soon, the man is nothing more than a bust. Larger chunks of flesh fall off. There is a puddle of blood on the chair he had been sitting on.
"The pillar is you escape from here... There are many of them in all the planes... They have existed since time began... Magic used by the Old Ones... You must use them if you hope to stop this crisis..."
The cylix drops as what remains of the tattooed man's head melts away. The glass part of the box grows dark again.
*