We stood next to the whispering legends of our past… and we burned for it.
Lord Gavin Evanson, Pendragon of Prydwin, circa 1251
The Book of Days is closed and the world has moved on. The menace from the moon, Secundus has faded and the Elder Gods have been pushed back beyond the veil. Magic faded and the stars of our velvet sky burned brightly… they are fading now and sorcery has returned. It moves through the cabals, finding the secret ways of the world.
The Great Church of Venta and their One God, a nameless god: It is heresy to know the name of God. It is heresy to travel on those dark and secret ways or to whisper with the old bones of the world. The Black Monks with the support of the red liveried Church Knights carry out their inquisition. Sorcery finds a way; it is like life, for there is always a way. The secret paths.
The bones of the world ache now and something is moving. Something old; ancient beyond reason. It creeps in shadow.. it hunts.