Kal'Drel's Awakening

The party entered the fabled chamber, unsure of what to expect.  All they knew was that the book said to come here if the fate of the world was at stake, and the angel had indicated that whoever the writer was had been writing in earnest.  So it was, and so they came.  The door was not easy to open, but they had come prepared with the correct spells and words to pass through.  The ancient and massive yet unassuming stone door creaked open, as dust spilled from its inner edge.  Despite the torches, the inside was pitch black, only the flames themselves could be seen, eerily dancing against the backdrop of black.  As soon as they cleared the door, it slammed shut.  Panic struck the party for a moment, but then white wisps could be seen about 100 feet ahead.  Small at first, but growing from a central point into two wings made of a pure radiant energy in stunning blue.  They swept outward, engulfing the party, which now felt a rush of truth permeating their beings, enough to cause awe and terror as they saw their best and worst deeds flash before them.  The wings shrunk back to the size one might expect from an angel, and then row after row of torches lit the walls.  The wings were springing from a stone statue facing a tapestry that covered the entire far wall.  On the tapestry could be seen depictions of recognizable world events, and many of those that had presumably fallen from the world's memory.  The statue began to crumble to the floor, but more like the shedding of skin than destruction, as a being could be seen standing in its place.  This being stood at six and a half feet tall, with a body that seemed to have lost none of its chiseling as the stone fell to the floor.  He wore a loin cloth, and on his back could be seen a magically radiant tattoo of a a Phoenix in the same blue coloring as the wings that had now drawn themselves back into the ink entirely.  The man seemed to stir, slowly turning in place, arms still outstretched as if offering or accepting something.  Once fully facing the party, they stared into ancient eyes on the face of a bearded figure around the age of 40, with dark flowing hair.  Impossibly perfect, it seemed they were face to face with yet another angel.  The tattoo on his left arm was that of a red Phoenix which pulsated before a firebird burst forth from his arm and into the air toward the party, growing to the size of a horse, and pausing mid flight with wings spread, looking like it may strike.  The tattoo on his right forearm, of a sword with runic writing then gleamed, and then a full suit of armor materialized around him- sword, shield, breastplate, belt and leggings, and boots.  Finally a helmet lowered onto his head, and the Phoenix shrank down to the size and composition of a crimson owl and flew back to his shoulder.  The party realized they had not even taken a breath in nearly a minute, and now all exhaled in relief in unison.

"I am Kal'Drel.  It seems I am needed once more?"