In the North, rain poured down, saturating everything and everyone who happened to be out, lightning lit up the dark sky creating monstrous shadows on the land and thunder cracked. Winds blew into every nook and cranny and whispered of bad omens as they blew open the shutters, settling a deep chill into the bones of the occupants that not even the warm summer's day light could penetrate. A dense and ominous fog hung in the air and it was on one of these many nights, that a solitary, dark figure entered the northern township of Namia and walked towards the only tavern, The Broken Pew. A bony hand reached out and rapped on the door which swung open a few moments later by a round and portly man. The figure's eyes shone an unearthly yellow and the inn keeper's own eyes became a dull and lifeless. The two men stood like that for what seemed an age, looking into each other's eyes, until the heavily-cloaked form pressed a gold coin into the keeper's hand and walked away, disappearing into the fog as foreboding as the figure itself. The next morning, the inn keeper's daughter found her father standing in the door way seemingly staring across the road, departed from the world of the living, still clutching the gold coin.
In the West, the earth shook, turning houses to rubble and amidst the screams of
the villagers caught up in the hysteria, ranting and raving of God's vengeance
when a different, lone figure entered the settlement and walked calmly by the
screaming townsfolk. The figure's eyes glowed with disgust and loathing and
when a young boy, the age of 4, ran up to him begging for help, the spectre
pushed him away and walked on by. He came to a woman with blood running down
her face and knelt beside her. "Please," she whispered, "Please, save my
daughter. She's in that house over there," she pointed to a caved-in
Tudor-style home, "Please," she begged looking up at the person beside her. Her
eyes dimmed and her face was drained of all colour.
The Spectre moved on.
To the South, a young woman could be seen running through a dense and gloomy forest, looking over her shoulder fearfully and crying. Her feet pounding at the forest floor, bleeding from the sticks and stones that dotted the ground and her long, blonde hair was matted with blood from a branch that had cut her forehead. Behind her, a black-cloaked form glided swiftly along, following her. The woman broke free of the forest, coming to still and grey lake that reflected the equally grey and dismal sky. Looking up, she saw a brown eagle circling the sky, screeching high pitched. "Oh mercy!" the woman screamed, sensing her impending doom but she continued running nevertheless. She ran along the lake's edge and looked back to see the figure gaining upon her. With a last desperate attempt, she ran into the lake, swimming and pounding at the water with her last dregs of energy, but the spectre had her in his grasp and she screamed, trying to cover up her eyes. As the figure pried her fingers away, she went under, breathing in the water, deliberately drowning herself. She had far too much knowledge to let the Imrahid know and use.