I know why they fear the dark

The two handed weapon is more than half my height and I have oft been jeered by those who do not know the strength I possess.

I am not a priest anymore, I do not believe in rites and incense. Devils though, I do believe in devils. I have seen why priests sleep with amulets clutched tight in palsied hands. Ryandres never did believe, not really. He wanted me along just in case something happened but he always thought I was a bit odd. I don't mind, I would rather be odd than defenseless when they come for you, in the dark.

We were after the glyph of course. It was supposed to allow the bearer access to the outer realms, with the proper rites of course. The Archons of Durrowner had a room full of gold, ready for the finder of the glyph in a standing reward. This was Ryandres prize, and he could think of nothing else.

We left with snow still on the ground. Spring was nearing but the nights were still cold. We were all hardy men and used to winter travel but it is never fun. As we struggled through the rocky outcroppings of the badlands the days warmed up and we were able to make better time, but still no progress towards our goal.

Finally we came upon a town, a pitiful collection of hovels called Tamar's reach. The only man who would talk to us, a blacksmith who sold us some extra supplies, tried to talk us out of our quest. He said that it was death to go further and that no one would come to bury our bodies.

Ryandres had no fear of mystical death. He shoved the man aside and strode on. It was only three days past before we found it. The badlands had given way to high hills announcing the distant mountains. We almost flew for those days, miles per day and everyone's mood improved.

Of course I saw it first. It was a huge labyrinth of black walls, crumbled and ancient. A great city it had been, upon a time, yet nothing but rubble now. A few buildings were defiant brick, standing in rebellion to the laws of time and abuse. This was Hadarese.

Legend had it that the people of Hadarese found a wonder, something so precious that an entire city grew around the shrine where it was kept. No one knows for sure but most people believe it to be the glyph.

The treasure was also its downfall. For the fame of Hadarese grew, and the noise spread until it reached some fell ear. The legend says that it awakened an ancient evil, a malevolence and greed that desired this gift.

The city fell in blood and betrayal. The people died and the beast reigned supreme in the ruins for generations, content in its slaughter and clutching its prize to its breast.

We were on our way to take it back. If the beast still lived. We all told each other that no beast lived forever and that even if it was alive it would be ancient and decrepit. We believed because we needed to believe.

We entered the city at dawn. We found nothing but death. Bodies, skeletons mostly, strewn carelessly as if thrown by a child finished with his toy. Most of the bodies seemed to have been fleeing the city, fleeing the standing buildings.

With his reputation on the line Ryandres stepped forward boldly. He never was one to allow other people's deaths to bother him much.