Winternight

<p>Even stories of hope are blasphemous in a world possessed by evil.</p><p>Nowhere is that more true than in the seat of corruption--the northern mountains.</p><p>Darkness' ancient nexus of power seems an unlikely origin for a story of light.</p><p>Especially on the longest blackest night of the year.</p><p></p><p>Bleaker still are the prospects of a lone elf maid bound to fulfill prophecies of yore.</p><p>The ragtag band she gathers will be witnesses to a new dawn to point others toward the first glimmer of morning.</p><p>The price of heralding the light is steep when night's minions have stood so long unopposed.</p><p>On Winternight in darkness faith is expensive. Hope even the beginning of hope is too much to hope for.</p><p></p><p>Besides who would trust a story?</p><p></p><p>The keening wind blew long and hard that bitter frosty night</p><p>to pierce the heart and chill the bone and chase away the light.</p><p>When in the blasted land it claimed the darkness woke once more</p><p>To rend a battered world from which 'twas bound in time of yore.</p>