PROLOGUE
"Stand back! I'll kick it open and chop that thing down!"
The scraping stops...
You kick the door wide open; it swings backwards! You aim high to strike the body of the manwolf but he is not there!
You look above, a deep, cold howl strikes at you like an arrow of frost! The manwolf disappears beyond the shadow of the hilltop.
Another howl! Tis the hunting horn! A mewling sound, like a banshee's wail that crescendos into a thundering stomp. Again, that cold gale blasts! And from the wind beyond the dark, shuffling reeds and of cold shock; one of the wolves lunges at you once more!
You cleave! And you strike it's body from head to toe, and now it lays motionless. But no blood spills, the wound lay agape and dry.
"An age of blood, from beyond the astral plane! Hunt, theists! Lay waste to him!" a voice echoes from beyond the hills. A voice like a chime of claws, of burrowing wind and a snowstorm! A corpse stands alone, from head to toe draped in black and blue metal, cold; it lifts a claw before it's husky dry face. "Bare your fangs, lay bare the metal! Drive the wind, whip it enslaved! Make this man a carcass and feast upon him!"
A bloodcurdling scream. Blood spills from beyond the house. "You have one foot in the grave! We'll drag you down! With a cold kiss, a cold touch! We will, Son of Adam! Revenge from the blood spilled beyond the bone!" a laughter, followed by a gaggle of howls, cold as the wind they come! "We are the Sons of the Grave! From the ruined cities, from the graveyards of the planes, from the chapels of the damned, we shall take you apart piece by piece! A vengeance of red hot blood, for the ones you have forsaken!"
Wolves! Wolves and mewling things of half-wolf blood! All pouring down from the hills...You say a prayer and head back into the house;
Therein lies the bloodied silver-crested shield: it is so that the emblazoned head of the unicorn shines a blue glow!
You jump out of the cabin; the blinding light burning their fur and leaving huge mangy-like sores! Hacking away you see that they burn and turn into ash!
A sharp pain in your shoulder; the zooming wind being cut, from far far away atop the hill. An arrow? No, this is something else. Your left shoulder has completely erupted! Bone flees from the gaping wound and you see that the blood is flowing like a river!
From far away you see it: it is a weird shape, a smoking thing like a dragon's mouth. A mere second later another arrow cuts through the air with a loud bang! You try to block but you are hit again in the left shoulder! Your arm falls to the ground along with your axe...
You are bleeding to death...
"Cherish the last remains of your life!"