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It seemed that Faerun had stood the test of time and lived on to tell of more great battles, exciting adventures, wonderous items and perilous voyages. Every threat was met by daring heroins that stood with vigor and pois in the face of adversity. Indeed every enemy that brought sorrow and devastation amongst the lands at one point or another met his match. Hundreds of plots that were made to overthrow governments and liberals, were foiled at the hands of ambassadors such as Elminster and The Harpers. Each time it seemed as if peace was restored and life began anew.
But elsewhere in the world of Faerun, hidden in the deepest of shadows and beyond the reach of peace and sanity sat a man filled with the lust for power. Power beyond that of high clerics and personal Avatars. Power beyond that of the gods… At times his mind shifted and carried him off to the land where he abandoned the rules of man… and the gods for that matter.
This was a place of solitude, where every thought became fruition. This was a place where none could reach… a place where even the most foolhardy, subjected themselves to fear. And as he sat in the corner of this dank room that smelled of fresh blood, something caught his eye. It shown brightly as it glistened in the moonlight pouring in from the large window only 20 paces from where he sat. He scaled the life-less body with his eyes for the hundreth time as the bloody scene before him pulled his thoughts back into the realm of reality.
He stood to his feet as his ragged cloak that was as dark as night draped over his arms and legs. He slowly approached the corpse that lay before him as his footsteps echoed throughout the large room. Standing over the body he peered down into its lifeless eyes as he spoke in a soft tone resembling a whisper.
"This is all your fault"
The volume of his voice began to increase as his face turned from an expressionless void, to anger.
"YOU BROUGHT THIS UPON YOURSELF!!!"
As his voice echoed three times over, he kneeled beside the fallen body and whispered in its ear.
"I won't feel sorry for you."
Reaching over with his bloodied right hand, he shifted his eyes to the clear medallion that coursed with light from the moon around the corpses neck. As he clentched it tightly within his hand his eyes met once again with the pupiless eyes of the deceased one lying before him. He snarled as the chain attached to the medallion gave-way. Ripping it from his neck, the broken link clamored along the surface of the floor as he stood to his feet.
Just outside the window flashes of lightning zipped through the dark clouds of night as a single trumpet sounded at the base of the twisted tower. Stepping further into the moonlight he approached the window. As the large drops of heavy rain began to blanket the sky he looked down upon the thousands of archers that awaited him scattered across the large fields below. As he clentched the medallion tighter digging his nails into his palm, the window shattered.
As the broken glass made its way to the surface beneath, he stepped up onto the ledge of the window, his silver hair flowing wildy with the increase of rain and wind. As the blood running along the grooves of the brick floor began to gather into one large pool, he smirked knowing that none below possessed the power to stop him. The blood began to rise into the air forming small droplets, as he raised his hand with the medallion gripped within it. The molecules of blood suddenly formed a single wing on his back as he leaped from the window seal.
Taking flight, he could hear the command to fire, echo through the air. As the sky cried out with streaks of thunder and lightning he soared through the first wave of arrows. His agile grace afforded him only one wound in the arm, as he narrowed his eyes upon the forest up ahead.
The second wave produced multiple sounds of whistling, as if hundreds of birds had gathered. As he stopped abruptly, he darted upward aligning himself with the full moon as the clouds parted. The fleet of arrows began their decent as he extended his hand with the medallion held in it, towards the incoming barrage.
Summoning a shield composed completely of his own blood from the trail that poured down his left arm, the arrows pounded against it but to no avail. Not waiting for a third attack, he bolted from the particles of the blood shield as they fell to the ground. Dashing into the wilderness below, he scurried into the night without a trace.
Once again the lands of Faerun have fallen into turmoil. The rise of Iven Moon has brought about the ruin of many. In a short time he has completely taken over The Hidden Leaf Village of konoha, overthrown several political orders and gathered skilled individuals from all over whose power rival that of the Harpers and whose reach stretches beyond that of even the Triads followers, to aid him in his quest for world domination.
Since the formation of what he calls, "The Order of The Faded Moon", (a group consisting of several powerful shinobi and warriors alike) his whereabouts for the past several years have been unknown, leaving many to ponder his next move upon his return. The many villages and countries left behind in his wake are beginning to feel the aftershock of his rule. The hidden villages of the ninja have come apart under fear of the new regime and border the hinges of war. Groups and organizatons everywhere have begun to use the chaos created to their advantage. With the peace treaties and bonds between ninja villages dwindelling, trust has fallen by the wasteside and self-preservation is becoming an everday lifestyle.
The times of war threaten the lands once again, promising to bring along with it…
