The Tormanian wars were enough to make any man never want to raise his sword again. Standing on the outskirts of his homeland, Ragnor, Torvak thought back to his emotional departune nearly five years earlier.
How he had missed his family and friends and the tranquil life of the settlement. With less than an hour's walk, the horror of the war started to re-emerge in his mind's eye as he contemplated his return.
Startled by the screeching of eagles overhead, he sensed that something was wrong. As he approached the edge of the settlement, the stench of rotting corpses hung heavily in the air. Hesitating before venturing
further, he forced himself through an opening at the edge of the forest confirming his worst fears.
A darkness covered the once green and fertile land and all around him lay the ruins of the once thriving village. Turning towards where his home once was, he started to run hoping to find some sign of life,
knowing deep down it was unlikely. As he got closer, he heard a voice.
"Torvak!...............................Torvak!"
Stopping instantly, he looked around in the direction of which the voice had come. Then he saw the twisted figure of :The Elder". Racked with pain, The Elder told Torvak about the arrival of the Necromancer and the dark shadow he had cast over the land. Looking into the eyes of The Elder, Torvak knew the path he must now tread.
