A Story of an Epic Battle

The old man looks into the crystal ball on his table, searching. He had felt the waves of power that shook the pillars of the universe.
While the focus of the crystal ball is flying quickly through the planes in search for the source he tries to stay calm. A clash of powers of such magnitude has effects that can shake the planes and change worlds.
Flying through the space between the planes, the circular focus just had spotted the island floating in empty space. Even in his long life, he had never heard of such a place.
Moving the focus closer, he can make out details but no inhabitants.
The center of the plane is illuminated by invisible light sources giving the island the look of an arena.

A sudden burst of primal power fills the air. His focus started blurring as the primal forces bend the universe around them. To one end of the arena, the earth cracked and four shapes are forming out of energy emanating from the earth itself. He contiunues looking at the shapes that slowly materialise and suddenly jumps up to search frantically through his library. He had seen the creatures before. A shudder runs down his spine. There is the tome he was searching for and opening it in the middle he can see the drawing.
He looks at the focus again. No doubt. He can see the four creatures now clearly as the fog around them slowly fads.

The slim figure of Pestilence the female shaman in the middle, tendriled by ever moving branches. Next to her Death, a massive barbarian wielding an equally massive fullblade. War to his left, a dark druid holding a staff made of bones of his emenies and finally Famine, a powerful earth warden that draws his power directly from the ground he is standing on .

The four harbringers of the apocaplypse are standing there now. Waiting.
He thinks to himself for whom or what are they waiting?
He turns the focus to follow their stares towards the other end of the illuminated center.
Emerging from a gout of fire and brimstone, four dark figures appear.
Their sneering but noble bearing, horns and tails mark them to be very different to the shabby looking Humans.

Without pause, they rush north toward the nearest solid cover.
It would seem they were cowardly if not for the devilish laughter emanating from their cruel mouths.

Peeking over the ruined stonewall they assess their opponents…

Four verses four…

Voland whispers to his fellow Tieflings, ‘This should be fun!’
Azazel, Mastema and Belial laugh in response.

On the other end the group representing the primal powers look at each other in surprise. Pestilence, who seems to be the leader of the group, looks at the opponents vanishing behind the wall and says with disgust in her voice
"Don't underestimate them just yet. But don't fear them either! We control the land they are walking on and the air they are breathing."

Death, Famine and War moving already towards the crumbly wall near them to take cover, Pestilence gracefully started follwoing them not taking her eye of the wall the creatures hid behind.

"Oh elder spirits guiding us, give us the power to correct this piteous mistake of the great mother!"