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It started small as such momentous things are wont to do. At first there was nothing more then a slight rumble, barely noticeable
trembling in the bedrock of an ancient mountain. But it grew and grew rapidly, progressing quickly into to a deep thrumming
vibration. And the volume only increased, it stirred outward from the heart of the mountain and caused solid stone to shift
and sway alarmingly. Rocks and minerals that had laid undisturbed for millennia, that had seen oceans and seas rise and fall,
suddenly found themselves in their positions reversed. Now they were flowing like granite waves. Many of them broke free
and tumbled into the tunnel network that crisscrossed the insides of the mighty peak. Numerous small cave-ins and rock falls
changed the entire layout of the underground passages in seconds. Perhaps, if anyone had been close enough to notice the
disturbance, they would have dismissed it as a minor earthquake. But they would have been terribly wrong.
For in truth, deep in the heart of the peak known to man as the Shadow Lord, something moved in the darkness. And there was
nothing remotely natural about it. As tons of rock and dirt began to shift and crack, a large jet-black form began to move
and flow. In this lightless world, the darkness began to come alive. It pulsated and heaved with unnatural sentience. It
was barely detectable at first not, even the few remaining denizens, their senses sharpened by the lack of eyesight, noticed
the darkness changing. But soon the very air was becoming alive with a slithering taint. It was not until the form began
to solidify and the blood red eyes opened to cast their hatred on the world that the more intelligent creatures fled for their
lives. Not that it saved them of course. Tentacles of the dark formed around the living animals and creatures of that nameless
place, seeking out the warmth of bodies and the spark of life at the first sign of their motion.
The remaining inhabitants of this dark domain, frozen
in terror, in shock, or in awe, got to live but mere seconds longer then those that made an attempt at flight. The darkness,
seemingly empowered by the few small lives it had taken, began to spread out. It flowed up through the new cracks in the
stone of its cave and out once more into freedom. It claimed the inside of the mountain first, flowing through every cavern
and tunnel, absorbing all the tiny sparks of life that it found. When it had once again reclaimed its home, its mountain,
it was the only thing remaining with any semblance of true life among the stones. Everything else was either absorbed or infected
by the foul blackness.
Awakened fully by the small lives it had taken, the vile creature began to think. It reached out with its senses and found
the world greatly reduced. Where once there was light and hope, now it sensed greed and fear. Such a world would fall easily
to its might once it had regained its full strength. It had waited patiently for more then a thousand years, what were a
few more weeks?
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The old man came out of his trance with a start. It had finally happened, the day he had feared and dreaded for as long as
he could remember. The world had changed since he was young. The age of legends was long over and it seemed there were no
more heroes left. But the Enemy was awakening and there was nothing he could do about it. He was old and tired. The power
he could call was merely a flicker of what it once was. It had been the merest of chance that he had even noticed the signs
and recognized them for what they were. The Enemy was back, there could be no mistaking it. The only question remaining
was if he could do anything about it. There was a prophecy of course. There is always a prophecy, but he had spent the better
part of his life trying to decipher it without real success.
The kings of this time were crass and callow compared to the glory of his youth. They warred and bickered with each other
squabbling like dogs over a few square miles of land. They were more concerned over personal glory then with protecting their
subjects. And the evil races flourished. They bred and multiplied until nearly a third of the land that was once part of
the domain of light was under their power. He briefly debated trying to warn them, but he knew it would be a pointless act.
He would be laughed out of court before he even finished speaking. Once he had been feared and respected throughout the
land. But times had changed, he was a joke now, tolerated merely for the ancient stories and little power he still controlled.
And the Enemy was merely a fairy tale, a fable to scare their children in the deepest parts of the night.
The other races were nearly as bad. When the last Emperor perished without an heir and the dukes and barons began fighting
over the scraps, the elves disappeared into their trees and wove powerful magic to prevent anyone from entering their domain.
The dwarves left their mountains only to trade their metal work at small trading posts near their mountains. And the rock
trolls had apparently disappeared completely. They simply walked off after the final battle and disappeared into legend.
No there would be no help coming from the so-called races of light. If anyone was going to survive it was up to him. He
just hoped he had enough power to do real magic one final time. He sent a silent plea heavenward to the Lady and then began
to make his preparations, knowing if he failed the world died with him.
NEXT--->
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