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Lincoln was sitting on a tree stump in the Misthalin military encampment when the rift opened. He almost fell from the stump as a blinding light came from behind the houses in front of him, accompanied and followed afterwards by a barrage of fire from beyond the crater. He watched as they struck buildings and people, screams echoing across the town. Misthalin soldiers scrambled as they were given orders which Lincoln did*’t quite hear, but he was masquerading as a mercenary for them so he just started following the crowd of soldiers as they marched south past the castle and what seemed to be an ensuing battle in the crater. The platoon Lincoln was following marched around the castle and along the southern rim of the crater. In the distance, Lincoln saw smoke rising from the trees, he turned to watch as the archers unleashed their first volley into the crater, and saw it have no effect. He wished to go down there and help them, but if this platoon was going to fight something of that caliber, he couldn’t let them down. They were going to need his help.

The platoon made its way through the forest, Lincoln in tow. Through the woods they could now hear men shouting and saw occasional flashes of light. As they approached the scene ahead of them, the captain ordered a drop. Lincoln complied, removing his dagger from his belt and preparing for the fight ahead. He was, however, not prepared for the canopy and surrounding brush around him to suddenly ignite in brilliant flames.

He watched as soldiers around him screamed from the sudden fire crawling across their bodies, and then looked down in alarm as he realized that he too was on fire. However, the flames seemed not to bother or affect him. He also soon realized that not only was the fire not affecting him, he could feel the air getting hotter around him, and the fire turned blue around him as it began to suddenly die off. Lincoln looked around at the soldiers either dead or groaning in pain, and the approaching men in orange armor with flaming weapons. He quickly threw his dagger into the eye socket of the nearest approaching one, drawing his blade and phase-charging into a second. He then turned, grabbing his dagger from the body of the first soldier, and phased forwards once more, his blade colliding with a soldier’s flaming equivalent, and his dagger plunging into their armor thanks to an enhanced strike. He then let go of the dagger to turn and grip the forehead of a fourth knight, his eyes fading to a glowing blue similar to his own as Crast entered the attacker’s mind and made it his own. The would-be attacker now turned on his once allies under the command of Lincoln and Crast. Several of the wounded Misthalin knights and footmen were now getting back on their feet, wielding swords and charging to Lincoln’s side, spurred on by his evident power and skill.

The fight continued like this, with Lincoln primarily defending the remaining soldiers as they got to their feet. They eventually beat down the strong ambush, as only a small amount of the invaders had participated. Lincoln, now being followed by the others as their captain had perished, made his way ahead and commanded the wounded to fall back. Lincoln approached what was now a dimly shining light through the trees, and he saw a dome of pure orange crystal. However, as he tried to approach it further, he felt a sudden rush of pain and he was forced backwards. This persisted on his next several attempts, until he finally gave up and returned to the wounded soldiers in the forest. He gave a summarized report of what he had seen, and they began their march back towards Lumbridge.