• The entire southern lands were a place of blight. The trees were free of leaves and the air was foul. Life was a scarce resource. Everything from shrubbery to animals just seemed to vanish when you passed the border from the land owned by the empire. Here, the land itself was dead, gray and charred from the evil that is concentrated by Durrahn’s dark army. No creature could be supported by these cursed lands, and those who travel make it for nary a week.
    They said the land reflected his heart, that the dark sorcerer had crafted the lands to seem more like the wretched underworld he came from. But it didn’t matter; all that mattered was that the wasteland was another protection for the sorcerer. No one could get to him, so no one could stop his unending armies of shadow. He controlled the entire continent from his remote castle, where no one could stop him.
    But there were a few who tried. When the empire stood at the height of its power, massive regiments marched at the command of their generals and on the word of the emperor. Armies marching for their freedom. Armies marching for their families. Armies marching for their land. Armies marching for their death.
    They were to be slaughtered on the days they marched for war. The shadows, while not immortal, could be created by the hundreds, swifter than a single babe could be trained to walk. The mortal armies were outnumbered and, with the help of Durrahn’s war beasts, overpowered. The imperial armies put up a good fight, but they were crushed under the multitudes of the shadows. Eventually the capital city, Balnoras was even captured. It looked like the war was lost. But that was because no one expected their salvation to be in the wastes.
    Deep in the southern lands, a man staggered out of a portal. There was a shadow standing nearby as if standing guard. The man looked around, lupine ears twitching on top of his head at every noise the cursed lands produced. His long, furred tail lay across the ground, hanging out the back of his tattered pants. He wore chain mail, tarnished in many places, and his blades and the scars on his face marked him as an adventurer. He looked over to the shadow, his famished expression mingling with humor.
    “You took your time with saving me didn’t yah, Justin?” He asked, his voice strained. The man let out a course laugh which broke into a hacking cough. The portal behind him closed.
    “Don’t strain your voice, Didvid, you might have to stop talking for once.” Justin replied, sarcastically. Didvid held out his hand, as if expecting something. The shadow shrugged a water skin off his shoulder and handed it to the ravaged man. Didvid took it and drank it greedily, not an ounce of pride showing in his diminished state. The water streaked down his face where his gullet didn’t devour it. After taking his fill, the warrior let out a satisfied sigh and wiped his lips, handing the skin back to Justin. Justin grimaced at the thing, reluctantly taking it back. IT was more than half empty.
    “Right. Well, Astaris is waiting to open the citadel door and he’s quite the impatient type.” Justin replied, stretching.
    “Can you take that thing off? It’s creeping me out.”
    “No, what will we do if we run into a scouting team?”
    “They’ll see me, wont’ they?”
    Justin sighed, he had a point. Not a very good one, but it was a point nonetheless. He removed an amulet from around his neck and the darkness flowed like water off of his body, revealing a young man. His brown hair was cut short, allowing the full length of his battle scar to be visible. His clothes were of dark leather and lightweight, just the perfect make for a rogue or thief. The vest he wore, while not visibly lumped, concealed a baker’s dozen knives and daggers and more than few poisons. Not that the venom of a snake or spider had any effect on their current adversaries. The shadows lacked blood to carry the toxin to their nonexistent organs.
    With that final preparation, the duo began their hike through the wastelands. Scavengers scuttled to and fro, collecting refuges from the few corpses that remained from the attacks on Durrahn’s land. It seemed the rat-spawns were the only things that could live in theses land, but their wretched forms didn’t do much to lighten the mood. The few trees they passed glowed with supernatural energy, the taint becoming more and more apparent the closer they got to Durrahn’s headquarters.
    The citadel itself could be seen in the distance, a single towering form on the horizon. It made a foreboding sight even from their fathoms of distance. Not towns were built in this land, there being little water for irrigation systems, and the little liquid available was tainted beyond purification. The only dwelling in the dead lands is Durrahn’s fortress, and even there nothing living stirs. The only sentient thing in the massive structure was Durrahn and if he were human once, there was nothing resembling humanity in him now.
    Justin shuddered slightly. He had become more and more on edge as he travelled. He had run into no scouting teams and, in the barren lands that they were travelling through, any more than three people would be seen for miles around. Durrahn may be vain, but he’s not an idiot. Something smells fishy… Justin began to think.

    After several hours, the pair finally was within reach of the castle. They had still yet to see so much as a single shadow on their journey. In the distance they could see Astaris, ready to open the gates when they arrived. It appeared as though he had not seen them yet. Didvid took a final step forward and abruptly halted their progress.
    “Something’s not right.” The warrior muttered, giving voice to Justin’s unspoken fears. He then sighed, eyes showing his displeasure at the choice he had made. “But I suppose there’s not much we can to about it. Time for you to go on ahead, buddy.”
    Justin simply nodded, slipping back on his amulet and running for where Astaris stood as the shadows consumed him. DIdvid watched him go, wondering what their chances were. They were three against countless and more. Their outlooks were grim. But they had two things Durrahn wouldn’t expect: The last of an ancient and dying race and the element of surprise. The warrior let out one final sigh before his face hardened into a mask of determination. His two allies had already entered the fortress. Now it was time for the guest of honor.
    Didvid took off at full speed for the gates, as if intending to knock them down through sheer speed. As he ran his hands fell into pace in front of his legs, both sets of limbs lengthening and bending into a lupine appearance. His face contorted into a muzzle and his shoulder blades began to extend into wings. The warriors clothes stretched to cover his body, forming into a thick coat of blue hair. When the transformation was complete, he resembled a blue wolf with the leathery wings of a dragon.
    The dragon wolf leapt at the front gate and, just before collision, let loose a stream of fire from his gullet. The orange tongues of flame seared through the metal doors, liquefying all that it touched. Didvid burst through on the other side. He wasted no time, scorching the guards at the door before they could raise the alarm. When he turned to run down the hall, his eyes went wide. There was an armada of shadow soldiers, fully equipped to take him down. Just as they were about to charge, however, a massive net fell over them, restraining their movements to nothing. Astaris fell from the ceiling. Didvid smirked at him.
    “You were supposed to leave as soon as I was safely in.” He said, the gratitude behind his voice not lost.
    “And miss this? You’re outta your mind!” Astaris shouted. He drew twin blades and gave a devilish grin to the netted warriors. “Go on, Fang, I handle this.”
    Didvid nodded in recognition to his nickname and headed directly to the stairs. He met little opposition he couldn’t handle. Once he reached the throne room he melted the doors and leapt through.
    Beyond the ruined portal, Didvid beheld Durrahn. For all the stories that the man was a demon, a monster, an abomination, he was nothing more than a man. His features were pale and gaunt, creating a corpselike appearance. His hair, while it was obvious that it had been red at some point, was now left at the gray of an elderly man. Despite the signs of age, Durrahn had the body of a young man. He couldn’t have been over the age of twenty, his face showing youthful, if malicious enthusiasm as the lupine creature destroyed his throne room entrance. He was flanked by two shadow guards, one of which was recognizable as Justin. The rogue had made his way through the shadow lord’s ranks quickly in the month that he served him.
    Durrahn stood up, placing the glass of wine he had been draining down upon his throne’s velvet armrest. He stood up and moved within arm’s length of Didvid in one fluid motion, with the grace of a deer. He examined Didvid, as if expecting a visitor, but not the one he had gotten. Of course he expected us Didvid thought, cursing him for his stupidity, Why send a group of scouts? One can easily get the job done and a group would be too obvious to make an effective spy.
    “Well, can’t say I was expecting this. However,” Durrahn began, twirling around as His guard grabbed Justin in a head lock, “ I was expecting you.”
    Didvid wasn’t much for listening to gloating. Before Durrahn could continue his egotistic speech, the dragon wolf lunged at him. The sorcerer turned, attempting to attack the wolf with magic, but his sorceries bounced off of the wolf’s resistant fur. Didvid landed on Durrahn, his entire weight taking the warlock to the ground. The wolf wrapped his enormous jaw around Durrahn’s neck.
    Durrahn coughed. “I thought you dragon wolves were too noble to kill” Didvid had come to kill the man, but still he hesitated.
    That moment was all the sorcerer needed. Durrahn pulled out a scroll and shattered it to dust, the parchment exploding in a swirl of sorcerous energies. It startled Durrahn enough to cause him to jump back.
    “What…What did you do?!” He screamed at the man.
    “I ‘m sinking Pharincx.” Durrahn responded with a smile.
    “Why would you do that? You’ll die too!”
    “Yes, but I was going to die anyway.”
    The madman’s laughter rebounded off the walls as the earthquake struck. It was as if the world was ending. And, in effect it was. As the rumbling continues, the rush of water could be heard. Throughout the continent, people panicked because of the flash flood. But they could do nothing. Within the hour, the land of Pharincx sank into the ocean. And what happened there sank into legend.