A thick fog covers the legendary forest of Dacce... a dark shroud of evil enclosing a ritual of pure hatred. The darkness grows, engulfing Dacce in its grasp. Through the night, the echo of voices can be heard coming from a group of young men and women; surrounding a pyre of wood, engulfed in flames that burns higher and higher as the chant continues to cast:

“Eu proclamo Thrunur como meu e somente deus. Eu prometo reconhecê-lo e honrar em todas as coisas, sem reservation, desejando no retorno, seu auxílio múltiplo na conclusão bem sucedida de meus esforços.”

“Welcome my brothers and sisters! We are here tonight to proclaim welcome to our Lord and God, Thrunur, God of Sickness! He has bestowed upon us, his loyal servants, the gift of alchemy. With it, we shall conquer all of Raven’s Eye for our own! The rulers will have no choice but to obey our commands. Using the power of the great Thrunur, we shall be unstoppable!”
The crowd of servants surrounding the priest cheer hurrah after hurrah… the stars glisten and glow… shining the pathway for the questionable God. The night continues in a roar of fire and celebration; until at last dawn is approaching. With the sight of light, the crowd scatters off into the woods, and by daybreak, the field in which hundreds stood is now empty and desolate.


Not to far away, across a river, down a hill, through a stream, over a mountain, and across the yard… lies the land of Raven’s Eye. A land of peace and solitude, the gentle town folk of farmers and merchants greet the morning day.
A young boy lies in his hay sewn bed… rolling over time and time again. His dark black hair continuously getting caught between the reeds in his bed, but still silk soft and lain perfectly atop his head. A young man, he rolls around the age of twenty… with eyes bright as the morning sun. His eyes glazed over with a shine like the aura borealis, with the glow of twilight that could warm a cold winter’s breeze. He stands about 6’1”, his feet dangling over the edge of his scratchy bed. Still tired from work the day before; he rolls over again as the sun begins to rise and awaken him. His physique is perfect… years of hard labor has left him skinny yet well-built, the perfect farmer boy all the ladies dream about…
“Virol! Get up, its time for you to do your chores! Virol!” It is sunrise in the heart of Raven’s Eye as the land awakens and prepares for yet another day of hard work and labor. A young boy named Virol, awakened by his mother, trips out into the morning sun to get a look at the day. “There are many clouds in the sky today, many, many clouds. It looks as though it may rain. I best get my chores done before I get wet.” And so Virol works, from the barn, to the yard, to the acres of grain in the back of his father’s field.
As Virol finishes the last of his chores… droplets of rain begin to fall from the sky. “Tears from heaven… beauty from above,” Virol proclaims to the world surrounding him. The roll of thunder rumbles off in the distance, as the rain picks up in pace, drenching the fields as Virol stands in awe. Virol strolls off his father’s field, towards the only path into town. As he walks along the path, the rain begins to thicken and thicken. By the time Virol reaches the town, the rain is pouring down upon the town like waterfalls on the rocks that settle below it.
To avoid the rain, Virol runs into a nearby tavern. Inside, the normal crowd that comes day after day sits and eats. All sorts of beasts roam around the open bar, drinking and talking. All different languages belching over each other, attempting to acquire the ear of the beautiful brown-eyed bar keeper at the door.
The air lingers of odor… floating through the air like a mist of rotten food and grimy beasts. A dark cloud floats across the ceiling of the room… tobacco smoke and burnt shit covers the tavern like an atmosphere of pure death.
Virol shakes off the rain and cold as he cautiously walks to a nearby table and sits down. The black haired bar keeper walks up to Virol, proclaims the specials and her name, “Tyneh.” “That’s alright, Tyneh, if you don’t mind I would just like to sit and catch my breath and maybe warm up a little bit.”
Tyneh’s dark eyes pierce through Virol…“You know what… Could I just get some water?”
Virol’s face turns a light red… “Thank you very much… Tyneh.”
“Alright then, I’ll be right back with water. Don’t go anywhere.” Tyneh winks and walks away to find a half clean glass to pour Virol some water.
Virol sits and thinks… not about anything particular… just enough to occupy his mind until the beautiful barkeeper, ‘Tyneh’ comes back. Tyneh’s black hair glistens and shines in the light of the candles surrounding her… her dark brown eyes piercing deep within Virol’s fragile and innocent eyes. The stare is unstoppable, the love is instant, and the confusion: precise.
“Here’s your water… hey!” Virol jerks his head up… “Sorry, I must of dazed off for a moment; long day on the farm.”
“So you’re a farm boy eh? No wonder you have such a slick look and tanned skin.”
Virol blushes ones more… he tries to speak but stutters… Tyneh giggles at this, which causes Virol to turn bright red.
“Oh don’t be embarrassed, I think it’s cute. So what’s your name stranger?”
“My name is Virol, son of Dement. He owns the farm down the ways, just a few miles south of here. That’s where I’ve worked all my life.”
“So, Virol, huh? Alright well, I have to get back to the ogres that live in this god forsaken place; but if you need me, just give me a yell alright?”
“Sounds good, Tyneh. I’ll keep that in mind.” And as Tyneh slowly glides away, back to her post of fending off the drunken demons, all Virol can do is stare in disbelief, and day dream of the possibilities. “If only I wasn’t a farmer’s boy, I would get her out of this place, and live out in the country with her. Far from the beasts and ogres, and all this negativity that seems to be encompassing the air,” Virol thinks to himself… “What am I saying? Negativity? Strange. It is almost as if I can sense the evil energy in the air. I feel, different. For some reason, my skin tingles when I concentrate; as if I could feel energy. As if I could feel emotions. I must be crazy…”
And so Virol just sits and thinks, off in his own little world, occasionally taking sips of the now-warm water Tyneh had given him.

“Hey! Virol, its closing time, so unless you plan on staying here tonight; you’ve got to get your cute butt out of here. Ok?” Virol shakes his head, dizzy from the sudden surprise, his vision hazy, but still in perfect consciousness of Tyneh’s voice.
“Alright…” Virol manages to spit out… trying desperately to stand without falling over. “I am so tired; that was the strangest glass of water I’ve ever had. What was in it?”
“Water…” Tyneh giggles, smiling at Virol as he makes his way to the door. Letting himself out, he waves goodbye to Tyneh and pushes his way out the door, stumbling over some rocks lying by the entrance. Virol can hear Tyneh giggle as the door slams shut… “I can’t believe she saw me! Oh well… best I go home anyway.” Virol begins the walk back home, trying to keep his eyes open as he walks. “I can’t believe how tired I am. It’s rather strange.” The soft trickle of rain against his face is all that keeps him from passing out where he stands.
“This is taking much longer than usual… I should have reached home by now. Where am I?” Virol takes a few steps, looking around, over bushes, under trees, through a cornfield… “This doesn’t look familiar at all. Did I doze off while walking? Can I even do that?” Virol’s confusion leads him to the conclusion that he might as well continue walking, and so he does.
Suddenly, one of the bushes to his left starts to shriek and shake. The leaves drop like flies from its branches by the intense rattling of the bush. A low, constant growl continues to flow from inside the bush, as if the bush itself was growling at Virol.