"Have you ever felt the chill of death, that never ending biting fear that cuts into you? I have as well. And it happens every night. Every night I battle on the edge of something darker, something bigger, something stranger than I have ever encountered. And I have fought a lot. They call me names like sell-sword, rogue, dishonored. But I was once a man of name. I was once a man whom they called Vardurilin, the Slayer of the Red Dragon. I was once somebody. Now, I fight to protect people whom I loved, people who don’t remember my name, and likely never will. For now, for them…I’m just a shadow memory. "
He rides into his city very unlike the way he came, embittered and angry, and a feeling he has not felt in a long time…the feeling of terror. Not for himself. For his wife, his beautiful queen. What has she heard? What has she heard? He is lost in his thoughts as he rides through the city. But not, unfortunately, lost in his thoughts enough to notice the eerie silence that penetrates the city. The bustling bazaar is empty. The square, filled with preachers and prophets and men and women and children…empty. The castle’s pennants flutter in the wind, but it’s an empty breeze. A cold, ugly breeze. The terror that was once slipping away at the king’s mind now comes back in full force, full fledge, a destruction of darkness. His horse foams at the mouth as it gallops towards the keep of the castle, where the main events are held, the heart of his kingdom. But he knows what he’ll find, somewhere deep in his heart. At the center of the square, casting a shadow upon the ground, a pillar of darkness.
A cross. And pinned to the cross, looking for all the world like a fallen angel to the prey of destruction, is a woman. A woman in a radiant blue dress, her head drooped over her breast. Her eyes closed. Under the pillar lies a golden circlet, a circlet that once encircled the brow of the fairest maiden in the land. The king-is a king still a king when his people are gone?- howls. Madness takes him . A gorgeous day, a gorgeous kingdom…empty.
But something different happens with the pillar this time around. The king, in his fury, beats the pillar with his sword. Everywhere the sword touches, the pillar seems to crumble, till it dissolves, softly letting the once-queen upon the ground gently. The king runs over, and ever so gently kisses her lips. Her blue eyes flutter open. The king gives out a moan of happiness. She turns to him, and inquires who he is and where she may be. With these questions, her skin slowly turns more pale, till she gives a soft gasp and lies down. Her eyes will never open again. And the king’s world comes crashing down. His years with her. His courtship. Their love. All gone. In frustration, in anger, he howls again. There is no safety for him. His people are gone. His wife’s memory is erased, gone like a burnt paper in the wind. There is no sanctity in the havens. There is no church in the wild.
Anger engulfs him. An empty city, a dead wife. He will give her the funeral pyre she deserves. There will be no darkness tonight. Not to light her path to above; she may have forgotten her, but he has not and will not forget her. Cut to cinematic background. A kingdom alight. An empty pavilion flickers with flames, the wood slowly creasing and then snapping. The fire roars, burning every vestige of the city to the ground. And in the highest tower of the highest point of the castle, where the fire slowly climbs towards, lies a maiden. Encircled, as always, in a golden circlet. The king is now dressed in the simple vestiges of dress of a traveler; the only distinguishing mark of who he once was is a red fiery brooch pinning his cape closed. There lies in the scabbard a sword, unlike any other sword. The blade, or at least where the blade should be, is dull. The reverse side, however, glows with a fiery red blaze. And now, embedded in the middle, runs a dark blue streak. . A useless blade, the king murmurs, for a useless king. So he rides on. Onwards to the end of time or ruin, he’ll find out. His goal now? Revenge. Can one even take revenge on something so primordial, so archaic? He will. His first goal will be to travel across the continent, to find the Scholars. To make sure his memory does not fail him, burnt into his hand is the rune of the cross. But for him, there is no safety in the grime and muck of the world.
There is no church in the wild.
Hi guys, so this is very early into the storyline and covers the opening couple of hours of the game! We have a lot more stuff to share with you guys so stay tuned for more updates.
