It was long ago when the accursed darkness first swept the land. The evil sunk it's hooks deep within, and took root deeper still. It permeated throughout, leaving nothing to be desired by good folk. That is why, as soon as the darkness first penetrated the Circle of Law, it's residents began a massive exodus from the cursed soil. Unfortunately, such a path was not for all to take. Many were either left behind, or overtaken by the darkness. Monsters formed out of its depths, and they carried the darkness within them.

The Raven Knight was too born from the darkness, and though he too carried it within him, he was not subject to it as were the other horrors; or so he told himself. The truth was, he was but a husk of his former self. He no longer remembered the man he had once been. It had been so long since his name had any meaning. He had been born, or rather reborn, by the darkness, and his name no longer held any value to him or anyone else. He could never return to the land of true light. He had his duty, and he would see it done. Not a chance at redemption, for nothing could redeem his blackened soul. But rather a chance at what he knew his past self would want. This was the only notion he could cling too. And cling he did. He knew not why he felt this need. In fact, he didn't know much of anything anymore. Still, he recognized something in it's feeling. And it just felt right.

The path that lead the Raven Knight was not straight. It was not narrow nor wide. It was not smooth nor rocky. To him it was only his path, and he walked it, slowly, yet efficiently. The shadowy vail that blanketed the land must fall. He would destroy the darkness; and in doing so destroy himself. No fear filled him, however, for his emotions were mere whispers of the smallest thoughts he once held dear. A slight remembrance here and there, but no longer felt. He knew his path did not call for such things. It only called for his greatsword, black and damning. This was his path, and he walked it.

The road lay before the Raven Knight, now covered in a dense, sharp thicket. It led deeper into the darkness. He raised his armored gauntlet, showing the plants that lay before him his palm. They decayed even further, until the path lay, once again, open to him. Control of the darkness was useful, yet damning. He knew that using the well of shadow that swirled within his soul would only drag him deeper into it. But it was necessary to fulfil his calling. Onward he went, through the now cleared thicket.

As the Raven Knight wandered deeper into the darkness, a scent filled the air. His natural senses had long been rendered inept. Yet he smelled it. The foul stench of dark blood, and a sinister death. In the darkness, everything smelled like death. There was no life to be known by the blind and deaf. But there was a certain kind of death that wreaked beyond that which the nose could understand. Only those fluent with the senses of darkness could truly understand this evil.

As he drew closer to the source of the stench, the Raven Knight heard sounds unbefitting of the darkness. Cries of torment and anguish. No monster gave off these cries; not while within the darkness they call home. For to them, anguish is bliss, and only cause to cry of joy. But the cry of joy coming from any dark beast was not one to be anything but feared. The Raven Knight drew closer still, finally coming upon a clearing in the night.

Before him lay a terrible sight. Spread throughout the clearing were visceral body parts. Arms and legs lay about, grotesque. Near the center of the clearing lay a woman, tattered, ragged, and covered in blood. She had not the strength to stand, for clearly her body was rendered useless by some terrible force. And just before her stood the beast; a bleek wolf, large and terrible. It stood before her, some eight feet tall, snarling, with face coated in blood. Something lay motionless between it's razor sharp teeth. The woman lay facing the bleek wolf, and cried out in despair. For what lay clamped in the beast's maw was what little remained of a man.

The man was dead, the beast now playing with it's food. All creatures of darkness enjoyed terrorizing their prey. And if that prey should be from the lightlands, then all the more joy they derived from it. The light and darkness were always at war. This had always been, even before this darkness took hold here. The Raven Knight felt no remorse for these people. He cared not for life, only that darkness be stamped out. So, he made his way up to the great wolf.

As he neared the bleek wolf, it turned and looked at him. Then, dropping the corpse from it's mouth, the beast spoke in a harsh and gravely voice.

"Ah, another play thing, meant to please me. I am grateful to the darkness for this bountiful night."

The Raven Knight said nothing, continuing his pace towards the beast. Then, still without a word, he flashed his hand at the woman who lay nearby, forcing her back some twenty feet along with other body parts in the area. Now, with the battlefield cleared of all obstacles, the Raven Knight slowly drew his sword.

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The bleek wolf laughed; a nasty, throaty laugh.

"You amuse me, and so I shall play some more."

With that the creature lunged at the knight, fangs bared. The Raven Knight braced and blocked the first blow. The wolf's fangs were very near each swords themselves, but the greatsword he held still put them all to shame. With a quick move and one hand, he shifted his greatsword up, causing the beast's head to follow. Then, in a flash, he grabbed it's neck with his other gauntleted fist. The beast's head tried jerking back, but did not budge. The Raven Knight, quick as lightning, pulled the beast's head in. And in a low, breathy and whispered voice, said,

"Oōltanór... Énovaal."

The bleek wolf's eyes widened. Not so much in shock as in terror. It immediately broke free and jumped backwards. Fear shown on its face and in its eyes. The Raven Knight stood there, still.

"You... What are you?!" The wolf demanded. But it was met only with silence.

"You should not be. The darkness should not allow it!"

The Raven Knight stopped, and spoke.

"It does not." And with that, he lunged at the beast, almost too quick for it to react. But the wolf managed to lean out of the way, just in time. The Knight's outstretched sword passed inches away from the wolf's eye. The creature reoriented itself to face the knight as he passed. The knight landed and spun in a single motion. But just as he faced the beast once more, it was already on him again. The Raven Knight just barely managed to get his gauntlet up to block the blow. But this sent his body flying backwards. He spun in the air and caught the ground, landing on his feet facing the wolf.

The beast laughed once again.

"You think you possess the power to defeat the likes of me? You caught me off guard but it will not happen again. You will die here, failed knight."

The beast wasted no more time, lunging at the Raven Knight. This time it's speed was faster, it's power greater. He could barely block each blow as it came. Again and again the large beast lunged at the knight, giving no time to retaliate. With his fists up, the Raven Knight held fast, but he knew he would not hold for long. Finally, as the beast lunged once more, the Raven Knight flashed his gauntlet up, successfully parrying the wolf's attack, knocking him back. The blow was powerful, but not enough to deter the beast's dark fury. However, it was enough to allow the Raven Knight a moment of respite.

The bleek wolf bared its fangs, frustrated at its lack of success. It attacked again. However, this time the knight was ready. In a single motion, the Raven Knight spun to the side and slashed the wolf as it passed, carving a shallow gash in the back of it's neck. Then, without pausing for even a moment, the Raven Knight spun again, hurling his massive sword directly at the beast as if the large black blade were a javelin. The beast turned, but saw only the sword flying straight at it, and behind it a disturbed cloud of shadow. Before the beast had any time to think, it felt the cold grip of an armored fist clutch the back of it's head. Firm and unyielding, the fist held the beast's head. Just as the bleek wolf realized what had happened, the greatsword reached it's target, impaling itself into the creature's skull right between the eyes. The tip of the sword, thrown with such power, pierced the back of the wolf's head, and into the knights hand. The Raven Knight then clenched his fist around the tip of the blade, and forcefully pulled it through the rest of the way. The sword ripped right through the beast's skull, hilt and all, spraying blood as he tore it free.

The Raven Knight took a step back, dark blood coating his raven armor. He stood there as the beast's corpse fell to the ground. He knew it would soon vanish, into ash, into darkness. And so he turned and began walking, away into the night.

"Wait,” a weak voice called from behind him, the tremor unmistakable. “Please...”

He turned slowly, his bloodied greatsword still gripped tightly in one hand, its weight effortless in his grip. The woman had managed to pull herself to a sitting position. Her face was a mask of dirt and blood, and her eyes, filled with a mixture of horror, pain, and a desperate, clinging hope, were fixed on him. As she gazed upon is dark visage, the blood from his greatsword crumbled away. She looked hesitant.

“Why did you save me?” she rasped. “You... you are one of them, are you not?”

He didn’t answer, though his silence was answer enough.

The woman’s breath came in ragged gasps. “They... they took my son. My husband... gone... please... there must be something left! Anything! You must know something, anything about those who dwell in the lightlands. Is there a way—”

“Light does not belong here,” the Raven Knight cut her off, his voice as cold and indifferent as the shadows that clung to his form. "And those who seek it will die." He turned his back on her, beginning to walk away.

“No!” Her cry was desperate, raw. “I won’t let it end like this! Tell me! Where are the lightlands?! How do I reach them?!”

The Raven Knight’s stride did not falter. She had nothing to do with his goal. She was no longer in the remnants of his mind. Her screams grew weaker, the anguish in her voice fading to whispers as he moved further away. Whatever life had once existed here, whatever bright dreams had filled the world before darkness claimed it, was long gone. All that remained was a dim, perpetual twilight. The lightlands she spoke of, a lost hope to those who still dwelt in the darkness but were not taken by it. Those who still clung to that foolish hope did not survive. But the Raven Knight cared not. He needed no one, and did not cling to the thought of company. Either one could survive, or one could not. Onward he continued, into the night; into the darkness.