Copyright 2010 Sean Matthews
A darkness was coming. An army of grotesque and broken souls, marching on towards the West. Blackened and battle scarred, they travelled mostly by night, crushing and destroying all that lay in their path, sparing only those lives that were of strength and use enough to join with them.
At their head marched their fearful leader, Dracus; a distorted abhorrence commanding a deathly power. Horrific in form, yet with the strength of twenty men, he ruled his band with a grip of fear and destruction. Staring dead ahead, through eyes that burnt with a fire of hatred, he was a being set strong with purpose.
By the light of the cold, empowering moon, his army powered on. They were coming and let nothing dare stand in their path...