What is the greatest creation of our age? is it the many ways in which mages of the arcane improved the daily life of our citizens? is it how our blacksmiths developed improved ways in which to work metal and essence of slain creatures in to one? is it the ever improving warriors of our kingdom developing new ways to combat the ever growing threats around us? is it the tenuous alliance between us and certain other races to combat the monster scurges and beings in the dark places?

No, it is the consumption, the devouring of essence, that which has allowed our race and others to survive against odds which by right should have wiped us from existance, for without essence we are no more than cattle for slaughter, it is our strength, our means to grow, our means to fight back, our means to survive.

Kazie Umbre 1st scholar of the arcanium consortium.

"Tired... so weary... i feel.. nothing..why" the last whispers that echoed through a pit, a pit covered in blood, limbs and vicera visible throughout as if a gale made of blades had shredded whatever unfortunate cratures they had belonged too. In the pit a figure, a tragic figure, a man, or what was left of one, pale skin matted with blood, legs missing chunks of meat down to the bone as if many mouths had taken greedy chunks of flesh, one arm torn from the shoulder, broken bone and gore left in its place, the other in no better shape than his legs. but the worse was the stomach, it was missing as if torn from his body, his ribs cracked open and his entrails pulled out, parts missing, parts eaten, a sorry figure of a man, not a good passing, not an easy one, alone within the pit.

Time passes, the passing sun and moon shine their light down upon a lush forest, many seasons of biting winters and scorching heat of the summers pass, the eternal cycle, years go by, but slowly a change starts to happen, the forest is the first to change, it begins with the bushes and weeds, grey spots of decay start to grow upon the vegetation, soon withering into husks, then the trees, bark turning slowly to a moldy burnt black , branches become twisted and threatening, the leaves to never grow again. Then the land its self slowly changes, the fertile brown soil slowly loses the life it once held, turning dark, a prevalent scent of rot and decay within the air, the birds had long fled, quickly followed by the smaller woodland creatures, they sensed a threat, an ominouse coming, the predators sensed a rival, posturing and guarding their territories until it was to late, they too began to change, creatures soon became monsters, changing in to horrific versions of themselves, they rage across the desolate scape of twisted trees and dead earth, locked in an endless struggle of hunger and death, eternal combat for dominance, savagely killing each other for a never ending craving of flesh that will not be filled, a need to attack all other life.

Deep within this landscape of corruption and nightmares and twisted trees yawns a deep maw, an inky blackness writhing within, tenderals of shadow seeming to be reaching out, as if reaching for something, as if calling something, enticing any and all living beings to enter its depths, seductive.

"come see... come.. see..."

A passing creature nears the yawning casm, enthralled by the writhing shadows, a creature that may have once been a wolf, if a wolf was three meters long with several layers of teeth and rotting grey tentacles flayling all over its body, its congealed eyes glossy, decaying purple tongue flayling around its salavating jaw, trailing over its many, many teeth. The wolf was powerful to have survived so long, it must have been the top predator in the area, killing all other contenders, but that do's not matter now, all that matters is that writhing mass of shadow, like a will 'o the wisp, calling to it, never ceasing. 

"come... come..."

The voice never stops, wiggling its way in to the head of the wolf monstrosity, a horrific voice, like jagged metal being impaled in to screaming children, truly terrifying to those who bear witness.

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"come.. inside...."

The wolf edges closer... closer... so close now, almost to the edge of the maw, the voice calling it ever onwards, the survival instinct of the wolf was finally rearing its head, starting to fight for control, the first vestiges of dread appearing as it came closer, something is wrong, DANGER! FLEE ! but it was too late, far too late.

Shadow that was tangible thundered out of the maw, wrapping around the wolf and dragging it within, the voice stopped. It was the wolf's turn to scream. The sound of snapping and grinding akin to stone over stone screeching over the top of the wolfs drawn out death knell, shadow breaking bone, rending flesh, the never ending screaming, then sudden silence.

The wolf was suddenly gone, the only thing left an impenetrable inky darkness, it seemed almost somewhat denser, like it was growing, If you stared into its depths you might see it, the eyes, the terrible eyes, like voids in the shadow, far darker than its surroundings, two sharp orbs of malovent and vicious intent, glaring from a pit, such hunger held within the stare, looking, searching, hunting. Something else would come, they always do, drawn to the inky blackness and the terror within, it was patient, it would wait for the next one, there was always one more. The voice sounds out once again, looking for prey, another meal, calling from a dark pit, within a cave that seemed more like a great carnivorous maw, the voice touched something, another creature, this one had a stronger mind, much stronger, but nothing could stop the voice, it caressed the thing's mind with sickening ease, seducing, tempting.

"come... come to me... come.."

The eyes in the dark seemed to be smiling, a smile of endless hunger, the darkness slowly begins to sink back within the pit, the cave shrouded in shadow, a slow laugh leaking out, the sounds of children screamin once again held within this tortured laugh, but there was something else too, a new sound... like the crying of a wolf.

"soon".

Footsteps sounded upon the forest floor, amongst the twisted trees, the clanking of metal and creaking of leather heard over whispered voices, fear and caution showing on the faces of these beings, humans and elves, strangers to this desolate landscape, walking in formation with weapons drawn, constantly on guard looking out into the trees, always vigilant, eyes always roaming for the dangers that could beset them at any moment. they too appeared to be hunting, six heavily armed humans in full plate mail taking up positions at the front and back of the formation, large kite shields and blades facing the wilderness, covering two elve's within the formations centre, they were different, carrying long wooden staffs of intricate design, strange stones inlaid the top of each one, seeming to draw in the light slightly, colors whirling within, they were wearing more leather than metal, long deep cowls of green cloth covering their heads, the elve's were constantly murmuring, strange but fluid words seemed to flow from their perfectly symmetrical mouths, they never stopped as if they were keeping away a great evil with their words, the human in the centre front also in plate mail, slightlly taller and broader across the shoulders than the others, was the only warrior to carry a great battleaxe, ready to be swung at any time, gripped within large gauntleted hands, his eyes followed another elf who was further in front. Another member of their party, a ranger, with full leather covering him head to toe, dyed a deep green and a long bow strung with an arrow clutched firmly in within his hands, this group had a full trust within each other, there was no doubt that they could count on each other to always cover their back in a tough situation. 

These were men of the kingdom, soldiers to be exact, soldiers of the valen kingdom, land of one of the three great cities that the sentient races had managed to carve out of the wilderness, pushing back the horde of monsters that inhabited the area, proud were the founding races of human, elf and dimir of this land, jealously guarding their borders against threats, monster or otherwise.

The soldiers were hardened veterans, all soldiers are, its not a safe life, one mistake and your life is snuffed out, this world affords no mistakes.

Trust and training is what let them survive all their trial's in the past, so they never doubted each other, all fulfill their role within the valen army.

That is why they marched in formation, guarding against threats from the wilderness, following the ranger who navigated from the front. None saw the slack-jawed face, or the slightly cocked head, as if he was listening to something, the tracker, always in front, always leading, for if they did they could have stopped what was to come.

"come.. come to me..".