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[Darrien Church]

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75 years ago...

Darrien Church having removed the robes of professorship of the Moonglow Lyceum felt naked, despite the layer upon layer of Royal Britannian Guard mage-armor clinging to his skinny and weak frame. The cold air of Britain’s twilight blew right through him, the stink of burning and decay rank upon it carried from the recently captured city of Britain.

Indeed, it was Sosaria’s darkest day in recent history, the armies of the Shadow Conclave led by the Order of the Ebon Skull from Caina had swept the mainland faster then anyone could have anticipated. Near matched in numbers by their bestial orcish and undead allies the city’s standing armies alone could not hold them back and the Regency along with what warriors and nobility could had fled to the neighboring Kingdom of Stormhaven.

Now, joined by Stormhaven’s mighty Stormguard led by the brash but truly brave Paladin Talon Skyfire, and the nation of Moonglow led by Richard Ebonrune and Greypawn himself stood alongside their new found battered Loyalist allies ready to retake Britain from the Daemon Lord Beleth’s clutches.

“What was the name of your book again Churchy?!?”

“In Defense of the Virtues...”

“Haha! Never thought you’d be so literal eh Professor?”

Darrien gives a polite but sheepish smile, he was never one for soldier talk.

And so the battle begins...

Flashes of magic illuminate the smoldering Britain Skyline...

The crash of sword and shield...

The roar of orc...

The cackle of the undead...

Blue...Red...Black...White...cloak and uniform beat against one another as violently as their wearers.

“Victory!" Cries the Stormguard General....

“Long Live the Regent!” Cries the Britannian Guard Captain...

“Semper Veritas!” Cries the Arch-Mage

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Just outside the city, in the ‘safe-zone” Darrien Church cradles the lifeless corpse of a boy no older than fourteen, his body too drained by the Order’s Necromancers for a simple “An Corp”. Darrien’s bright green eyes and face stained heavy with tears and blood mingled together over cut and scrape upon on his usually fair and elfin face as he gazes bewildered into the eyes of a Stormguard.

“Why the hell did you move the guard!?!? This was the safe-zone! Your very base-camp! The refugees were safe here!” Cried our protagonist.

“Tactical decision Lord Church...it was not easy by any means...we could not have calculated....you said it yourself Professor in your book, “In Defense of the Virtues each citizen must be prepared to die for the greater cause and most noble ideals of our gre...”

Darrien did not hear him, his gaze was transfixed on the Ankh about the Stormguard’s neck and, in the distance two armies...that of the Shadow Conclave in full retreat and that of the Alliance of Light in pursuit.

For the first time in his life, Darrien, not at all because of the distance or the tears, blood and dirt caked about his eyes, could not distinguish between the two.


To be continued...