The small town of Misdrobar had become a desolate place, taken under the control of a malicious being known to many as the Lord. The town was to be found several miles from the great Sizdro desert at the southern reach of the human realm of Tokal Dorr. Wide stretches of forest surrounded the town, all but one single path claimed by the woods. That path trailed into the mountains and led to the nearest human city, but none travelled it any more. Not since the Lord had come.

The Lord had reputedly hailed from the dark lands of the south, where the great evils still reigned. He came to Misdrobar three summers ago and that was when life had become hard for the townsfolk. The Lord pronounced himself ruler of the town, killing their chief and taking the largest house for himself. For the first few days the townsfolk resisted him, but he enforced his rule with pain. The first to speak out against him was found nailed to the wall of his house. The next was killed as his home burnt down around him. A total of seven men were killed before the Lord was satisfied.

From then on the Lord ruled with terror. Only very essential trade was allowed and even then it was restricted. The Lord’s savage creatures patrolled the forests, killing anyone who tried to leave and bringing their remains back to display as a warning. The Lord took his choice of the townsfolk’s daughters and forced the strongest of their sons into his own private army. If they refused, their families were punished.

News of the town’s plight had spread far on certain levels. Seers and Mages sensed the evil in Misdrobar. One or two of the villagers had managed to send word to the human cities before the Lord’s grip on the town was tightened. The birds and beats of the forests alerted the masters of the wild in the elven realms. But the creatures of evil were spreading out from the southern lands, and the armies of the free were unable to spare the men to free Misdrobar.

However, the temple of the light in Draenii had sent one of their warrior-mages to settle the problem, one single warrior to destroy the Lord and his monstrous pets.

Siril of Draenii was still young by the terms of her people, only seventy-three summers. As such she was still only an acolyte of the light. She had been promised that, if successful, her task would end her training and she would pass to the rank of low mage. Still, this was her first taste of the horrors in the world she shared with so many others.