Prologue

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  • Dedicated to Natalie Morgan
                                    

THE PAST,

Throughout countless millennia, many a story would be told of the Faerie Folk that inhabited the area that would become known as the Warlock's Chair. Stories passed down into myth and legend. Of Elf, Dwarf, Gnome and Troll and the host of other characters and races that inhabited the realms. Stories that told of legendary heroes and dastardly villains; of heroic lives and brutal deaths; and of the magic and bloody battles that were fought across the lands.

And of the coming of man into their world.

At first, they had lived in harmony, each benefiting from the other. But it would not last. As man grew more powerful, he became greedy, decided he would take the lands and all they contained for himself. So started a war, a war that would endure for centuries. Neither side would concede defeat and so the eternal conflict continued. Thousands upon thousands would forfeit their lives in the senseless slaughter.

Until...

Ceradin Ravengaard, a wealthy and influential warlord desperately sought out a means to unlock ancient magic and shatter the world of Faerie once and for all. A great darkness fell across the earth, threatening all the races, Man and Faerie alike. Mankind saw how powerful Ravengaard had become and grew fearful of their own fate.

An alliance was formed with the Faerie Folk, and after a mighty battle, Ravengaard was defeated and banished from the lands

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An alliance was formed with the Faerie Folk, and after a mighty battle, Ravengaard was defeated and banished from the lands. Sent into the endless void that is The Evermurk, The Dark Abode. The uneasy truce between the races of the Alliance held for a while. But soon old wounds reopened and once again war ravaged the lands. Eventually, the Elves wearied of the fight — a fight they had little chance of winning — and they withdrew from the sight of man. One by one the other Faerie races also grew tired of the endless fighting and they too disappeared from the face of the earth.

Over time, the age of Faerie gradually passed into myth and legend and except for stories told to amused children; were all but forgotten.

But deep in The Evermurk, Ceradin Ravengaard seethed with burning anger at his imprisonment. In the dark place where time stood still, he assembled an army and had his acolytes seek out a means of escaping his prison.

An ancient portent spoke of three children who would come to dwell in the old Faerie lands. It told how they would be both the beginning and the end; it did not make clear which. But when they arrived, the time would be right to make his move on those who had incarcerated him.

The passage of time mattered little in The Evermurk, so Ravengaard watched and waited for the prophecy to come true.

That time is...


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