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There

once was a paladin, one far stronger than any of his order, mentally

and physically his will that of iron and his resolve the same...There once was a plague of undead which ran rampant

throughout the realm feasting on the souls of the living destroying any light which lay before it. This paladin was granted two relics a sword and

shield each bathed holy light only meant to harm undead not the soul of a man. The blade able to cut through the undead

like a razor through paper, the shield able to take endless strikes from

the most relentless of enemy's, granting him fortitude through this

dark land. "God has abandoned us, the sun is just an illusion from a

dying god struggling to keep in power...There is no sun it has been

destroyed by the darkness which plagued this land long ago." The order

of the white ones who think they can reverse the irreversible sent this

great warrior on a long lonely journey one which is riddled with

hardships and unimaginable horror. Now passing the city walls, the heavy

gates opening to a desolate land before him, the hero stepping pass the

gates his sword and shield and hand while what's left of the towns folk

recite a prayer for their last hope. Across this land whispering a

curse the undead walking among the living the whispers echoing in the

back of his head, calling to him onto his journey and with the loud slam

of the gates closing he would follow the whispers of this dying

land...This curse. Battling through dark catacombs still in control of

his mind this holy pilgrim sets forth into this light devouring

sanctuary body his sanity slowly fleeting from him, this great paladin

confronted my many trials. Walking in pure darkness testing his faith

blindly guiding him, and combat with skeletal giants leave him

questioning his resolve. But the trials of this dark place is the least

of his troubles, he has traveled far not considering his surroundings

are only made from bones and death, no humanity here in such a decrepit

place. No light to medicate the illness feeling his mind slipping the

curse taking him. He believes he should return when he is best suited

for the task at hand he prays telling the story of his beloved homeland

and of better times hoping to return home....Something something is

wrong he prays again asking his god to deliver him from this evil once

again, only to find himself surrounded by death in this wretched place.

His prayers failing him there is not light in this waking-nightmare gods

hands must be absent from place....This god forsaken place....Or

perhaps it is he who has been forsaken he tells himself... "No that is

the corruption of the curse takeing hold...I must press onward." Through

constant battles and aimless walking through this evil place coated in

this..darkness eating away at any light the madness encroaching on this

holy knight going deeper into his mind. He does not know when he will

fall haste more important than ever. Struggling to the depth of the

cursed tombs standing at his final trial wondering is this the point of

no return or has he crossed that threshold long ago? Only a miracle will

see him trough this as he takes....One....Last...Leap. Miracles are

only bestowed upon ones who have faith, faith in god but the only god of

this domain is death.