Lost Souls

Darkness is a far more clever thing than many would like to think; it waits, plots, and strikes only when the light has begun to fade. But even then it does not fall in an instant, for if it did no doubt the light would fight for every second of its passing. Instead darkness creeps upon the land; ever so slowly the light is lost, and world falls into darkness.

The truly frightening thing, however, is that the great bards of ages past, those who could glimpse beneath the surface and into the fabric of the world, had the right of it when they linked evil to darkness. For the good men of this world all lay dying, the love of life and laughter fades, and the strength of righteous wanes. This world is all but lost.

The Brotherhood of White is crippled, its members hunted. The hearts of kings are poisoned, corrupted, and turned against those most dear to them. The old forests burn, and the seas are stained with blood. But all is not lost. For until the last good man lays down to die, and bows under the crushing weight of darkness, hope will remain.