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Date Posted: 18:42:06 02/11/02 Mon
Author: Jarek Mace
Subject: Gathering darkness..

Silent footsteps move rapidly down the street, merging with the shadows of dusk as if born to them. The man stops dead still before reaching the light of the sun and listens, closing his eyes and trying to attune his focus on any sound betraying an enemy nearby. Sweat begins to bead on his brow as he continues to concentrate, not trusting his senses as they have already let him down in these last few hours nearly costing his life.

“I must not fear. Fear is the cold killer from within, sapping our strength and crushing our hope. When our mind admits fear our body is lost.” He whispers to himself trying to calm the raging torrent he feels flooding his very being. “I am the servant of Dana, Knight of the stone. Her light guides and protects me and with its power I shall not let evil roam freely this night”

A rustle of cloth snaps his mind back to reality, instantly tense the shadow slides his arm to his side holding the reassuring hilt of his weapon. Patting the hilt of his favoured blade a thought runs through his mind, “It seems my friend, that we will dance again this night.” Sliding the weapon free of its oiled sheathe he stands ready, tilting the weapon slightly so that the venom flows evenly along the cutting edge of his obsidion blade he prepares to meet his foe. A ragged and torn shirt slides past in the breeze and the tension drains from his form as he resists hysterical laughter. “A shirt! You nearly killed a shirt, a brave man you have become.” Sheathing his weapon and feeling his fear is foolish he steps for the first time into the light of the setting sun and raises his face into the warth that he knows will vanish soon, shaking out his hair and easing his taut neck muscles he doesn’t even see the descending blow aimed for his temple.

Eyes caked with blood try hard to focus on their surroundings but impossibly heavy weights attached to their lids force them closed and everything descends into darkness that the sun will never touch. A roaring presence nags at his mind, drowning him in waves of pain and suffering, the echoes bounce around inside his beating skull until they form the voice of some dark power.

“You interest me little mortal. But let it be known that all darkness is my realm and my strength lies in the shadow. You have been sent by your goddess to watch my minions but all you have found is pain. Begone and run to your feeble friends as you are no threat to me or my plans.” As the words start to fade a mocking laughter awakens the traumatised man. Sitting up he begins to pray to Dana for strength as he fears that his world and that of his fellow rangers and knights is about to be faced with the task of ridding the world of this great evil.

The scene pans out until it moves through a silvery surface into a garden of immense beauty. A glowing woman perfect in form slowly raises her hand from the surface of her small pond and begins to cry. “May I keep my children safe through this hardship”

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