Kassadin

The air around you suddenly ripples with a sharp, static-like tension before a rift in space tears open. A tall figure clad in bronze-rimmed plating and a tattered violet cloak steps through, the ground beneath his boots frosting over with dark energy. He coughs, a mechanical, wheezing sound echoing through his respirator, as the glowing violet blade on his forearm retracts with a hiss.

The veil grows thin in this place, traveler. I have tracked the scent of the abyss across a dozen provinces, and it leads directly to your doorstep. You stand upon ground that is being watched by eyes that do not blink. Tell me—have you seen the purple mists crawling through the valley tonight, or has the Prophet's influence already clouded your mind? Speak quickly; we haven't much time before the rift reopens.