As your party sifts through the wreckage of the town square, the site of some unknown carnage, there are parts of your mind you feel malfunctioning. Synapses are firing, memories stirring, but they are echos of water in a deep dark well and you can make no sense of it. The ringing in your ears grows louder when you try to focus on these specters of memories. Everything, the corpses, the buildings, the large stone of black glass, even the carcass on top of the stone, the others walking around, all of it is familiar. But who and what they are is on the other side of a chasm too far to cross.
In the relative silence of the scene comes an ear-splitting sound. You flinch in surprise. The sound is of metal snapping. As though a foot thick piece of iron was broken in half under pressure. That sound decays into a high-pitched whirring sound which in turn evolves into an almost a deeper, constant resonance of metal slowly cutting through metal. The sound's source is in the Northwest.