Gang Wars: Dark Skies

Prologue: The Dying of the Light

"Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

"Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they do not go gentle into that good night."

"Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

"Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

"And you, my father, there on the sad height, curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night."

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

"Do not go gentle into that good night", written by Dylan Thomas

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You may have heard about what happened in this land so long ago. It's a rather bitter tale, filled with malice, spite, greed, gluttony and most of all, magic. Ah, you don't believe me? It's true, magic exists everywhere, but it's nothing like the kind magic you know of. Our magic is old and unyielding. It's something akin to disease and greed. Everyone wants some, but no one wants to pay the price.

I think I should begin our tale with a history lesson, don't you? Long ago, our lands were created by the heavens and a desire. A little lonesome desire. This desire ascended to the land, filling it with light. The desire created many people to inhabit the earth so it wouldn't feel so lonely. This desire happened to have a twin, an older, darker and wiser twin. This reality saw what their sibling created and grew depressed. It knew it would be many, many eons before it could join its other half.

So, in its place, it made a river of stars. From this river sprung four men, to go to the land and act in the older twin's place. They were born from hopes and ambitions, with just the slightest inkling of magic dropped in for good measure. When they had grown a little, they left the reality and went to stay on the earth. For the longest time, the reality heard nothing from its creations or its runaway sister. As the years passed, it grew more and more worried. Finally, it was able to descend, but when it came, death and destruction corrupted the land like a plague.

And it wept. Reality wept cold, hard, painful tears. Those tears became a physical river, the salty water rushing forward to meet the corruption. Other creations came from its depths, but instead of nurturing them like it had before, Reality stole away, hiding in the farthest reaches of the lands. It hid from the brothers, wielding weapons of bone and ash against the helpless inhabitants.

And this is where our story begins.