Far to the north, in a land inhospitable to most, there lies a crevasse that none dare go near. It became a festering place filled with the most despicable creatures in a land that the gods forsook long ago when the world was watched over by the Dragonriders. Evil creatures walk these lands now and guard the entrance to the crevasse against those who would enter it. Corrupted minions stand watch to ensure that no one enters and no one leaves unless their dark overlords give their permission. Everything around the opening in the ground died long ago, and now all that remains is blackened ashy earth that nothing can grow in. A barren wasteland surrounds the crevasse filled with desert sands that play host to an unnatural number of storms that kick up in and around it, so inhospitable that even monsters are driven away. The crevasse dives deep into the earth. So deep, that the light cannot penetrate its bottom.

Within this deep, inhospitable pit reside the Shadow Beasts. Creatures so foul, that they corrupt others around them. Their foul influence can be felt by simply being near them, and to remain with them is to invite the corruption they exude to spread through your very being. These creatures keep beings to feed on in their foul lairs. The poor souls unlucky enough to get caught up in the grasp of the Shadow Beasts soon lose all hope of escape. Not only is their will no longer their own, but the lack of light causes them to lose their hope of being rescued. For creatures from the above world need the sun to survive. Its rays help to nourish their skin and remind them of the hope a light can bring. Without this light, hope fades with their health.

The Shadow Beasts also keep another secret. Their master lies buried in a prison created by the last Dragonriders of the age. Over five hundred years they have worked to free their master. They were not strong enough to make a difference in the beginning, but with time, they have become more. These breeding pits allowed them to multiply and strengthen themselves. Feeding on the inhabitants of this world allowed them to regain some of their lost strength. Their fortune was also bolstered by two of the great generals fleeing before the final blow was struck in the battle long ago to show them the way forward. They could feel when one of their generals was struck down though, letting them know that there must still be at least one dragon left in the world. Their rage was great that day. Many slaves were killed as their wrath and sorrow boiled over. That was fine though, more slaves could be brought in.

Their generals had found that they could sacrifice slaves to the seals that trapped their master to begin to break the bindings. The issue was, they also needed those slaves to work the pits and as food to produce their young. Souls only went so far, and they were still lying low. The news that a dragon was still in existence made them even more cautious. So they had been splitting their slaves between freeing their lord and feeding to expand their ranks. They had grown, but slowly. It had taken centuries to get even a glimpse of the power they once held. But the world was changing. The despicable Dragonriders no longer held power over the world. This was good, but that any remained at all when they were all thought gone was a blow to their plans for conquest. No matter, the other Dragonriders had been dealt with, and they could be dealt with again. For the shadows were patient. The shadows persisted.

The great master was not yet ready to be unleashed, but it was only a matter of time. There were always more souls being created in this world and grown to be their slaves. They could not make such an impact as to draw attention to where they were hiding, but they would obtain enough eventually. Their corrupted guardians, trolls and ogres that had been taken to serve them, would keep intruders from finding their lair. Adventurers had come before, but none had left alive. Those that did come, were often captured as more souls to feed their agenda. Others were taken from towns and villages around the outskirts. New plans were being laid by those who were more entrepreneurial than others, and towns were being taken over by those with greater power. Their corruption could spread easily enough and they could gather more souls to bring to their lair. The issue lay in their lack of secrecy. Others were beginning to see the happenings of these villages and word was spreading to the larger towns.

The leaders, the strongest among them, were split on how they felt about this. There were those who said that the push was good, more souls than ever were coming in and this meant greater growth and more chances to free the great one. Others said that they needed to be cautious. That this arrival of a new dragon and possibly a rider was a result of their lack of caution. There had been much fighting about these ideals. More slaves had been killed. That was fine though. More could be brought in.

The great master's seal was only about halfway to being broken. Many more souls would be needed to break that. But they could not leave themselves exposed, so they still made sure to keep souls for their growth as a horde. They had regrown from where they were when they retreated back to their hole after the last great war. Many had died that day. Few had survived, but they had come back to hide. They had come back to heal. They had come back to seeth in their anger and hate. Their hatred made them strong, and their loss made them cautious.

This world was still theirs to take. They would rule it all. Their confidence was rooted in the fact that they had come so close in the first attempt. The Dragonriders had become complacent. They would be weaker than they were, but they would not underestimate them again. Time was all they needed. Time and souls. Once the great master was back with them, he would lead them. He would be the one to make them great again and show them the way to their ultimate goal. He had created them, after all. Millennia ago they had been brought into being because of the great master and he would show them the path to their victory.

When the great master created them, they had no idea what to expect in this world. They had known only that they wanted to have more power. The great master had that power. He showed them how to obtain power for themselves through the use of souls. Harvesting them and drawing on the power that was within gave them a new sense of purpose and desire for more. They grew to crave this power above all else. The pure euphoria that the power of a soul granted was indescribable. When a slave had lost all hope of escape and its mortal shell was destroyed, the power that came from the soul being set free was marvelous.

There were many who despised them for their use of souls. They said it was heretical, devious, or just plain evil. The shadows did not care. They would take the souls of the disagreeable with the rest. There were those that had hunted them for their so-called "evil ways". They had died like the others had, their souls going to further the cause. All but the Dragonriders. Their souls had not been able to be captured. The most powerful had used their souls to bind the great master instead, leaving the rest much weakened. Then they hunted the shadows. Hunted them to nearly the ends of the earth. They had escaped, though. They had managed to keep their main base of operations secret. Other lairs and breed grounds had fallen to the wretched Dragonriders, but not Golthrathi. It had endured, secreted away in a place that none dared go. For even the gods had forsaken this place.

It lay at the edge of the forgotten lands, past the deserts of endless sands, at the foot of the Erridor mountains that were right against the great western ocean. When the gods had left this place, so had all the magic. This meant that there was no ambient magic left in the lands, and thereby life all but ceased. Only the hardest of creatures lived here, those who preyed on others for their magic. Plant life didn't grow without the ambient mana to help them grow as well. Shadows did not need this magic. They did not need the gods. They were better without the gods' intervention. They could find their own magic.

In their quest to find their own magic, they found that they could use the hate they had to feed off of the beings of this world. For every being had a little hate in their hearts. This seed of hate could be nurtured, could be coaxed to blossom into something that would take over their very being. What they didn't know was that when one lets hate run their life, they no longer have control. The shadows took control instead. For the plant that is grown in hate, chokes out all other life. This seed was also extremely contagious. When others could see the feeling, their own seeds would begin to feed off of the hate. Sometimes that manifested in fights between the seeds, but other times it would end with one seed becoming the leader of many. when this happened, the domino effect of slaves falling into place was a masterpiece to behold. Like a snowball gathering mass as it rolled downhill, so too does hate gather more hate. Beings of this world seemed to have so many things to be angry about that it spread so much easier than its opposite, joy.

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Joy. What a terrible word. Nothing made the shadows sick more than joy. Seeing someone content with what they had, happy to be with others, or helping someone. That feeling needed to be snuffed out forever. They would do just that, in time.

Crack went a whip in the dark. A scream from one of the slaves and they didn't perform a task up to the standards of the shadows. Deep, weeping gashes were showing on the back of the elf from the many lashings that the slaves received. Some were older, and some had just been opened from the last whip crack. The ones just opened were bleeding and widened and narrowed with the elf's labored breathing. Such a wonderful feeling of despair came from those around the fallen slave. Oh well, it was time for that one to be consumed anyways. Two Shadow Beasts grabbed the fallen elf and dragged it over to one of the feeding vats. They laid the creature out on a table and strapped down their arms and legs. They took a knife and began cutting a hole in the elf's chest. The screams it let out when they dragged the blade across the pale skin were like music to the ears of the shadows. Blood began to flow freely from the wounds inflicted on the creature's chest, and they had to crack the bone in the middle of its chest to allow for the process to take full effect. The crunching of bone as a hammer was used to crack the bone caused the other slaves to wince, then prying fingers removed the pieces with no grace or care for the pain being inflicted. The fear and hopelessness from the other slaves lent themselves to the screams of the tortured, making an almost perfect fever pitch that the Shadow Beasts nearby almost lost control of themselves.

"Keep watch maggots!" Came a voice from deeper in the layer.

Their last general always had his head on straight and kept them in line. The shadows were grateful for his guidance during the time away from the great master. If they lost focus during this process, the soul would leave the body the natural way, and they would not be able to use it.

"Don't let feelings get you caught in the moment. Focus on what we need to do."

The shadows obeyed. A hose was placed into the hole in the chest of the elf on the table and it flexed its arms and legs desperately to try to get the pain to stop as they shoved the hose deep into its chest. When it finally stopped struggling its breathing was shallow, raspy. They always sounded like this right before the end. Another shadow beast turned a wheel on the wall and a whirring noise started from a vat encapsulated in the wall. The elf's eyes went wide and it began to scream again on the table and fight against the bonds that held it there. There was no need for concern. No being was strong enough to break these bonds. The only light to ever touch the bottom of this crevasse began to shine from the chest of the elf as his soul was ripped from his body. Once the soul was visible from outside the body and was entering the tube, its wrists were slit and the last remnants of its blood began to leech from its body. As it died, the bonds holding its soul into place gave way and it was sucked out of its body, up into the hose, and into the glass vat.

Once the light was in the vat it flew around in a lazy circle in the glass, casting shadows as it moved closer and further away. The light was beautiful to behold, the purest form of life essence in the world of Hogarth. It was like a tiny sun captured in a jar. The Shadow Beasts all watched the soul as it flew around in the vat, mesmerized by its slow yet constant movement. One was even so drawn to it as to step close, placing a hand on the jar longingly. The elf lay on the table, dead and now soulless, while the other slaves cowered, hoping not to be noticed.

"You may use this one. But get another ready for the great master."

The shadows moved swiftly to ensure that the power from the soul was not lost. A door on the right side of the vat was opened and the soul flew into the hose that led from the door. It floated through the hose along the walls and down to a different container. This container looked almost like a black, liquid-filled cocoon that was attacked to the walls and floor by tar-like strands that were not solidified to give some cushion to the strange-looking pod. It had ridges on the outside at regular intervals making it looks almost insect-like. It pulsed with some strange form of life inside that seemed to be anticipating the arrival of the soul. The end of the tube was connected to the head of the pod and the light from the soul flowed along the tube until it reached the connection point of the pod. When the soul entered the pod it glowed dimly behind the thick outer layer of the pod and a brief image of a creature without true form could be seen. The creature pounced on the soul and the light was absorbed into the creature causing the light to be snuffed out as it was consumed.

The pod began to shudder and shake back and forth. The creature inside having fed on the soul was now ready to be birthed. Several shadows nearby moved to the pod. One took a knife and sliced open the end of the pod and a rush of black viscous fluid flowed out of the pod onto the ground with a form in the middle appearing to be curled into a fetal position. The other shadows nearby grabbed the creature and lifted it up so that it could stand as they did. It growled and snarled as it was forced to use its legs for the first time, preferring to have been weightless in the fluid-filled sack. They half-carried, half-walked the creature over to a pool of water carved into the rock floor of the crevasse and dropped it into the cold water, and held it under. The creature thrashed and flailed trying to get its head back above the surface of the water. The other shadows didn't let it until it had ceased its thrashing. The creature was hauled out of the water and tossed onto the ground. It mewed weakly and then spit out water. It stood back up slowly, now clean of the black fluid from the pod.

"Good, you will serve us well, young shadow. The others will show you the way." The general said.

Other shadows came up behind the newly born creature and guided it off to the side.

"Bring the next one!" The general bellowed.

This time a human female was brought forward from the slaves. It cried and screamed as it was dragged toward the table. It struggled so hard that one of the shadows had to strike it across the face to get it to comply. It let out an almost bark sound as it was struck across the face, and it stopped fighting so hard. Blood ran down the side of its face from a cut that was left on its temple, smearing across its face as its head lulled across its shoulder while it was dragged by its arms, and dripping from its chin. Partway to the table, the human regained its senses and began fighting again. It was too late at this point and the shadows roughly shoved the last victim to the floor and tossed the human up onto the table and grabbed its arms and legs to strap down. It screamed and fought to free itself, but this pitiful creature was no match for the strength of the shadows.

The knife was used to slice open its chest, causing more bleeding and screaming as it cut through the skin. Then the bone was smashed with the hammer, which always stopped the screaming momentarily as the wind was driven out of its lungs. Then the bone pieces were pulled away and the screaming would start again. It did make for pleasurable work for the shadows. Then the hose was stuffed into its chest and the wheel was turned again. More screaming as the soul began to appear out of the chest. The wrists were slit so the blood could leech out, and the creature lost consciousness from blood loss and died, severing the connection to the soul. It flowed through the hose and into the vat to circle the outside lazily as the other soul had.

"Let this one go to the great master. And dispose of the filthy remains. We don't need those stinking piles of bones around here."

This did not please the shadows, but they dared not disobey. They dragged the bodies over to a pit on the far side of the cavern. The shadows kept some four-legged creatures called barlduggers there. These creatures had no eyes, an adaptation acquired specifically to fit their life in the dark. They resembled oversized, hairless dogs, with mouths elongated like that of a crocodile. Their legs were short so they could not climb out of the pit, but they made for excellent body disposal systems. Their jaws could bite through bones with ease, allowing them to eat every part of the bodies that needed to be disposed of. When the bodies were tossed unceremoniously into the pits, the barlduggers pounced on them and began to tear the bodies to pieces. First, the arms, which always came apart the easiest, were torn off and tossed back into their mouths to be broken into small enough pieces to swallow. Then, the legs. Last, the torsos were consumed. These were the best-tasting parts and fights would break out over who would get the tastiest insides. The bellies ripped open during the fights, causing the insides to spill out onto the floor. More fighting as the alphas asserted themselves in the feeding order to get the soft, delicious insides. In just a matter of minutes, there was almost nothing left. Just a few blood stains on the ground that the lower-ranking members of the pack would come through and lick up, savoring the flavors.

A gate was lifted on the left side of the vat and the soul floated through an opening and down another hose. It traveled quite a way down the length of the crevasse until it came to a semi-transparent stone with jagged edges that looked like a nearly clear quartz formation. This was no normal mineral though, but rather a prison. It had a set of seals in a circle in the middle of the stone That looked like some kind of ancient writing contained within to concentric circles. The symbols glowed softly with white light for just a moment as the soul was drawn into the stone. A tiny crack in the stone grew minutely larger near the top of the structure. It would take many more souls, but this world was filled with such souls, and they would all go to feed the shadows eventually.