The horror of living longer than the fallen became apparent to Halton on the evening of some unknown day. The company had lost track of time, running for our lives from the monstrosity that lived in a dungeon we recently explored. It feeds on man, on the bones of those who dare to enter it’s hovel. A tasty meal has entered it’s dungeon.

It’s midnight colored fur was made from the dreams of fallen heros, those it’s eaten and those it will feast on, its eyes hardly visiable against obsidian fur. The creature nearly impossible to follow even to those with superior vision.

This evil incantation of horror, assembled by lunacy and destine to commit heionus acts, was now after the company. A Company patting itself on the back for a job well done. How little we knew, how could we be so slopy. We watched the beast go down, we stabbed it over and over again but it was alive later that night and it was hunting us.