Quote:“Come…” Said the purple leathered boy. “There is knowledge lost in the past and we must recover it.”


The sound of belts being fastened could be heard across the room as backpacks were adjusted and armors tightened to the winged frames of the batkin. Flags flutter to the sea air while waves crash on the wooden harbor. Their past was rooted far and, soon, they’d set sail to a land far from the well known Meranthe.


Sorrow feasted across the ship once the eyes of the children of the night saw the vain sacrifice of their goddess. A kingdom born from a war against corruption now once again within the grasps of darkness as followers of The Weaver infest every inch of the kingdom. 


“Nyt'hjem all over again…”


The stench of the dark lord's influence could be felt from far away, a clear sign to avoid docking too close. The kingdom was lost…but the crew’s aim was not to retake it, at least not now,  but the groove where everything started. Amidst the woods where a thin veil separated the living from the spirits, where a goddess took her last breath, they would venture in search for ancient knowledge.