It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Pike Trickfoot, a gnome cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The Prismatic Wall disappears, and they are able to watch as she steps safely through the annihilation orb and out of sight. you, momentarily unaffected by Feeblemind due to the anti-magic field from the orb, prays to Sarenrae for guidance.
DM: 22. As you concentrate, you feel the warmth of Sarenrae's embrace descend from the darkness of the inside of your eyelids. You see the angelic form of her flaming aura come down and her hands touch the sides of your cheek. She turns your head around towards the orb. And, where previously you saw the little black dot, instead, you see a large oval doorway. Around it, it is flickering madly like a hundred spinning razors around the edges, but just beyond it you can see what appears to be a desolate, gray landscape, what looks to be a scattering of city buildings across this broken, black shadowland, and in the center a singular black obsidian tower that rises up to where you can't quite see the top from your current angle. And she gets down really close to the side of your ear. You feel the warmth of her divine breath against your face. She says, "This is the destiny. This needs to stop. Only terror will come through this."
Player: We have to go there?
DM: "Whatever way you can. Our reach cannot go beyond the Divine Gate."
Player: If I go there, will you not be able to go with me?
DM: "I will be diminished, if at all able to."
Player: Okay. Thank you.
DM: And her finger touches your head and she kisses the top of your forehead and you feel the warm presence again, and she withdraws. As she withdraws, the cold is even harder with her absence because now the proximity of that shadow, of this room, just this general sense of negative energy and death that emanates from this direction behind you. As soon as you watch her light vanish and you open your eyes again, you're chilled to the bone.
