A strange place

For the last 1000 years I have been stuck in this cell. It can't really be called a prison, seeing as I want for almost nothing. The lack of thrilling conversations, great adventures, and the wonder of creating items of devastating power, these are the things I miss the most. After the great war, many of us are now sealed away. This would not be a problem if not for the fact that none of the power seems to be getting out to resupply the world. The worry is that this will cause a great calamity.

This however is not the correct starting point, I seem to have gotten ahead of myself. My name is Grimoire Compendious Mentalitous, but you can call me Grimm. I am a crafter and purveyor of power, magic, items, ect.The short of it is that as long as this exile last my wares can't leave The Shop. This will lead to the ambient power being drain, and while Arc the devourer is currently trapped, his hunger grows.

This story however is not mine.Much like you I am a spectator. Think of me as but a guide on this journey.This is the story of the mortals whom have been tasked with stopping the calamity on the horrizon. Can they free the old ones, restoring the flow of magic to the world before its to late, lets watch.

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My head was pounding, felt as if a carriage had run me down. Nothing seemed to be broken, but it didn't stop my body from feeling like it was spliting apart. I lay on a hard bed, wrapped in thick layers of furr. The cold permeating any flesh not kept tightly wrapped. How long had I been asleep? Surely it wasn't winter already, spring had just began. How had I got here and where exactly is here?

Looking around the room I was in everything appeared to be made of the same substance. A bluish glass with a fogged over look, the kind you see in privacy windows. There was no furniture in the room save for the bed. Well bed might be pushing the term, it was more of a slab. Every thing was cold to the touch, could this really all be made of ice?

Suddenly a thunderous explosion seemed to rock the world. The room swayed and shook as if the whole building had been moved. I ran for the door, once out side the room, a narrow hallway with several other rooms stood before me. Once again it all looked to be made of the same material. Another explosion made everything sway again, am I on a boat? Could that be why everything kept moving?

Realizing this must be the case, I decided to try to make my way up to the deck. At least there might be someone to give me answers up there. After a little trial and error, I came to a set of stairs leading up. These had to be it, my way out, but would I be ready for what I found when I got there.

Approaching the door, for the first time voices could be heard. The sounds of foot steps scurrying around, for the amount of explosions on the way up I would have expected more panic. What I heard though couldn't be right, laughter. What kind of crazed lunatic laughs hysterically when they are under attack?

I hesitated with my hand on the door. Hart thumping in my chest. Was I ready for what was behind this door? Are they a friend or foe. That was when I realized the skin on my hand was sticking to the door. This place was indeed made of ice.

In my 21 years, never had i seen such a place. They say this world once had living land, trees that walked, so much energy floating around that anything was possible, and that the gods had once taken a more active role. Those are just legends, sure there is magic, but it has limits. I also have my doubts that there were ever really gods. This place was starting to make me question what I thought I had known.

The wonder still swarming through my mind, was abruptly interrupted as voices drift up the stairs behind me.. After peeling my hand from the door, I decided it was do or die time. I may not know what lay in front of me, but it was time to find out.