<span style="color: #FF8040">Most nights, the Drunken Sparrow tavern, located conveniently on the main road through the city, would be crowded, smokey, and full of noise. Travelers found it easy as the main road from the city gates led straight past it before branching off into the different city districts. The food varied in both flavor and appeal, depending on the local markets and the cookâ€™s running mood but the bar maids were always friendly and prompt with a mug of cool ale. <br/><br/>The crowded state of this tavern was only increased by the recent influx of visitors to the city. Outlying villages were plagued by attack, sending the surviving refugees who managed to hide or flee to take solace in the streets of Moranwick City. It was a large city at the heart of the kingdom, sporting the towering spires of the royal palace and a wide, sprawling market fringed by the expanse of residential hovels. More arrived every day, and it seemed they all stopped by the tavern as often as possible in order to hear news from the new arrivals. Two grizzled old farmers almost always occupied the same stools at the bar, bantering with the Morrow, the bar keep, and groping at the passing bar maids. <br/><br/>â€œAnother attackâ€¦â€ Stan observed to his neighbor, nudging him with an elbow smeared with what appeared to be dirt.<br/><br/>â€œAyeâ€¦â€ Old Willey nodded, glancing back across the crowded tavern to watch the cluster of haggard villagers who had just arrived through the fringes of silver hair hanging in his eyes. â€œHeard â€˜em when the patrol took their story. Same crazy nonsense. They said the ones what fell first got up and helped kill the ones who werenâ€™t killed in the first wave. Itâ€™s the same every time, aint it?â€ <br/><br/>â€œMm.â€ Stan swallowed a large gulp of pale ale and nodded before answering, â€œYet they keep spoutinâ€™ off the same nonsense. All is well. The kingdom is in peace. They expect us to believe it just coz they tell us. We know better. Somethingâ€™s going on. Someoneâ€™s slaughtering villages and leaving a trail of ruin. We let this go too long and weâ€™ll be packed in this city like sittinâ€™ ducks. They are already runninâ€™ short of food. Weâ€™ll all starve here while we wait for King Foolish to send out the troops and put a stop to it.â€<br/><br/>â€œStanâ€¦â€ Old Willy tried to interject with a friendly tone, but Stan just pressed on. <br/><br/>â€œIts gotta be them practitioners, as they call â€˜em. The ones what fight for death rather than against it. Thereâ€™s two kinds of magic in this world, and I tell yeh Will, the scales are not as balanced as they want us to believe. The Dark is choking out the light, and there aint nothing us simple folk can do to stop it. Night is coming, Willâ€¦ mark my words. Endless night.â€<br/><br/>Old Willy simply sat, patiently waiting for Stan to finish ranting before he pointed out evenly, â€œHavenâ€™t you noticed? The soldiers donâ€™t drill any more. They used to be out on the grounds marching and fighting day and night. Now I hardly see a one. Supposed to be in there workin in the keep, but have you heard a peep? I think he already deployed. The war is started. The king is fighting as best he can. What would you have him do? Cause a panic by announcing the troubles we canâ€™t do anything to stop?â€<br/><br/>Stan considered this, then opened his mouth to reply when his words were cut off by a tussle at the back of the tavern. Both men lost interest in the conversation and rotated on their stools to watch the show. <br/></span><br/><span style="color: #40BFBF"><div style="text-align: center;">===========================================================================================================</div><br/><br/>Welcome adventurer!! You have chosen to step foot into a treacherous world of death, destruction, and mayhem. Hope and love are fading, leaving ground to be claimed by despair and grief. The average simpleton sees magic as either black or white. Either a mage uses powers of life and health and nature, and is to be trusted and respected, or else he uses powers of shadow, disease and death, and therefore should be feared.  <br/><br/>Your task, whether you use powers of Light, Darkness, or nothing at all, is to pick a side in this battle. The nameless foe, referred to in hushed tones as the Black King, marches on the palace while the people are kept ignorant. The royal court, loving and just as they are, hold back all news that could keep the people informed and prepared for fear that the news would only inspire panic. Villages are left unguarded and unaware when the slaughtering party raids. Always, it is the same. A small wave of marauders rides through town in the bustle of evening, killing all within reach. When the first wave of the attack is finished, those who were killed, whether villager or marauder, rise again only to turn on the rest and finish off the slaughter.  These walking dead are unstoppable, mindless embodiments of death and disease.<br/><br/>The black market, once used to facilitate crime, now serves to aid those who spread the word and arm the people. This black market is a small band, closely united against the Black King, determined to see him fall and restore peace in the land once more. Should you seek to join this band of mercenaries, seek out the carpenter Kell, commonly found in the tavern throughout the evening. <br/></span>