I ran into the woods, towards the camp I knew my father had planned to ambush that day along with the other men of the village. It had been to long for them to not have returned. A sick feeling had buried itself in my gut and the shadows that were once my friends seemed ominous. When I reached the campsite… all I saw was blood. I hid among the leaves and branches and the scene I looked down on… was not human. These bandits were soaked in blood, both their own and their victims and though it was dark I could hear the sounds of flesh being torn from bone… I can still hear those sounds…

The only light cast into the clearing was that of the moon and I was thankful that it was hidden behind clouds because it was then that I felt fear, paralyzing, skull splitting fear. It was not the work of bandits, it was the work of demons. I could hear them all around me, whispering, laughing. That dark and powerful evil that lived in the woods was real and it was at work. It had poisoned the minds of those bandits and stolen their souls. When the clouds moved from in front of the moon, I saw the horror that had occurred and saw the shadows surrounding me.

Those spirits were everywhere and my only option was down from my hiding place, into the clearing filled with cannibals. When I landed, it just so happened I fell in front of my father. The only thing left was an arm, but I recognized the bracelet I had given him many years before for his birthday. It was then that I felt that great and powerful evil that threatened me inside myself. I looked up past the crooked tree at the moon and I screamed.

Heat seemed to boil up inside of me and pure darkness surrounded me. This time it’s purpose was to to hurt me though… this time it served me. Eventually the power was too great and I lost consciousness… but every night I wake up under that same crooked tree.

There were no survivors. We buried what we could find of the attack party that had left the town. Bilros taught me of the great magics that were given to each nation long ago in the times of the first kings. Our kingdom was entrusted with dark magic. We were intended to guard it, keep it safe from misuse. Of course though, like the greedy creatures that humans are, we took the power for ourselves. This lead to my country becoming the cesspool it is now. Dark magic corrupts the body, soul and mind.

My teacher warned me against using it and instead taught me how to control and suppress it. I learned how to control and capture those spirits in the forest but it wasn’t without cost. I often found myself exhausted to the point that I couldn’t dispel them and there were so many in number that I couldn’t hope to protect the village by myself. I knew I needed help if I wanted to avenge my father and protect my town. I needed to find the source of that evil. So I left. I traveled across an ocean. Now I find myself in another tavern, listening for anymore stories of heroes and adventurers. And now… I think I finally found one.