As he ventures deep into the harsh and inhospitable nether regions of the outlying area simply known as "The Wastes", he knows he can not go back now, not when he has come so far. The Ghouls and horrors he has seen along the way would have broken most men, but not the knight they have grown to affectionately call "The Stag" (from his name sake, Sir Taenius of the Alussion Gardens). As he struggles to gain purchase up the slippery cliffside, he realizes the toll the trip has taken on him. It would be so easy to let himself go and slide like a forgotten doll, back down the jagged slope into the unforgiving darkness. From the faint, yet savage sounds below, there is no doubt of monsters laying in wait in that impossibly black pit. All manner of creature poised with anxious ferocity, for his inevitable misstep. He pictures the face of his beloved. Her night sky hair, like gently spun onyx. Her eyes, deep as the great oceans, and as hypnotic as the waves on their shores. Her stunning beauty, quickly replaced by the twisted face of her certain terror. It burns our hero in his chest, like he just swallowed a fistful of white hot coal.
With freshly stoked determination, he pulled his heavily armored body over the summit, standing to find the lost Cemetery of the Ghonne. The graveyard that lay in front of him was chillingly desolate and bereft of even the whispers of wind. The Ghonne, a cult of dark alchemists that serve their Demon masters beyond the veil of mortality, had a reputation for blood rituals. in their last days, they had kidnapped and killed every member of a small neighboring village, resulting in an all out attack by the Queen's guard, where every member of the cult was slain without quarter, and their entire village was turned into a graveyard, the ground salted, and every building set aflame.
It was rumored that this place was haunted by the vengeful spirits of those Dark artisans, but the Stag knew the truth of it. It was no rumor, he had seen that Nightmarish angel with his own eyes, with skin that must have been made of blue flames, the alchemical symbols on his robe unmistakable to his scholarly eyes. The monster that took his love was some how related to the Ghonne, and this God forsaken place was undoubtedly where it had taken her. As he wandered deeper into the seemingly endless dead lands, the silence was broken, by the unearthly sound he had first heard a few days prior. As the sound grew, so did a faint purple glow in the distant fog. With a slight reluctance, the stag pressed forward, now seeing a familiar blue color framed by the purple glow. as the mist parted, and the vague features came into focus, he stood, more than slightly stunned at the realization, that odd, faint sound was of flesh burning with the blue flame of a Demon.
Fear struck him like a ram charging headfirst into an anvil. The Demon was looking right at him--no, right at his very soul. As he raised his blood soaked battle axe for combat, the Demon's mouth opened to make a cacophony of sound. It was like a thousand guttural voices screaming in pain all at once, yet somehow he understood the message with crystal clarity: "Death is infinite". Just then, the ground began to tremble and split with the same haunting blue light erupting from below. As the land beneath shifted, arms started to burst forth violently from the blighted ground, as the restless corpses of the Ghonne cultists started to frantically grasp at his cape and armor.
The Stag stood frozen, absolutely shocked as the dark world in front of him transformed into an absolute masterpiece of certain death. This time, he did not think of giving up, but of something his father told him "Bravery is not about being fearless in the face of danger; bravery is when you are filled to the brim with fear, and you fight with everything you have despite it."
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