In the heart of Ember Wood Forest stood a marble tower that pierced into the heavens. It stretched out touching the snowy mountain ranges to either side nearly eighty miles apart. On the southern wall stood a towering oak door scrawled with intricate designs. Sprouting from the base of the door, snaked a well-worn dirt and cobblestone path into the forest where the birds sang their harmonious song that echoed through the valley and carried farther by the gentle autumn breeze.
A slim, well-built man wearing a tattered leather cloak approached the oak doors that contrasted the looming white spire it guarded. He traced his pale, ageless fingers over the ornate design, appearing to draw a circle that was as large as the man himself. Glowing words appeared within the circle, pulsing brighter with a heart-like rhythm as the figure reached his hand forth to touch the door. The words read "When the doors to the sanctum are opened, mankind's final age will begin where even the darkest nightmares will become reality."
After a moment of struggling against an invisible wall, the man set his hand in the center of the circle and lightly pressed. With a thundering roar, the door exploded into splinters of wood and dust. The massive marble walls had chunks the size of horses missing. There were cracks appearing to dance along the wall for a few hundred yards giving the hole where the door once stood an unstable appearance.
Moving with the intent and grace of a viper, the tall silhouette moved through the gaping hole and became quickly enveloped in the cloud of dust.
From then on, Ember Wood Forest was quiet, no birds sang in the dense forest. There was no wind. Just the feeling of ice as the sun became enveloped in dense storm clouds.
From the direction of the cloud of dust that was just beginning to set came a ground-shaking tread of footsteps. Along with the occasional groan or howl that would triumph the load roar. Then, emerged the source of the noise. Thousands of shifting shadows and figures spewed forth and dispersed southward, deep into the forest.
Green Fires began to appear in spots throughout Ember Wood Forest giving it a sickly look. The occasional screams of a traveling merchant and his guards pierced through the roaring green flames as the shadow spawn swept past.
Laying to the south of the burning forest, stood a small mountain fort called Terragrain, where a legion known as the White Hawks honed their combat skills to join the Imperial Army. There were eight stone watchtowers surrounding the rundown keep, each equipped with roughly half a dozen expert bowman wearing tattered armor with an emblem of a white hawk
Clark, one of the bowmen, had long, messy ginger hair that matched his beard. He peered over the silent red treetops of Ember Wood Forest to see tendrils of green and black smoke feeding into the dark storm clouds looming overhead. Then came the war horns. By the sound of it, Hundreds of them coming from the direction of the ancient tower.
Men inside the keep were rushing to their posts, grabbing swords, shields, bows, axes, and spears. The archers steadied their aim toward the break of the forest where there was about a hundred yard stretch to the fortress walls. After what felt like ages, the horns stopped wailing and it began to snow as a single figure stepped into the opening.
The monster looked to be about six foot eleven, and a good three hundred pounds of muscle and hair. It wore armor made from human skin. Dozens of different shades of color made the armor even viler. A putrid smile stretched across its scarred face showing its sharp, rotting teeth. "You can call me Grock. I'll be the one to crush every one of you." It said grinning.
Laughter erupted from the humans. Even Clark had to laugh a little as he drew his longbow. Eighteen archers simultaneously aimed and loosed their arrows at the target fifty yards away. During training, they had to hit smaller targets from at least one-hundred yards. Yet, every arrow fell short by a few feet. They all stood in astonishment. "How could they all miss?" Thought Clark as everyone fired more arrows. Even after adjusting their aim, they kept missing. Followed by another dozen shots, the infantry charged the creature shouting "Glory to the White Hawks!".
As the swordsmen got near Grock, their strides became shorter. Eventually, they were forced to their knees by an invisible force. Grock started walking to the soldiers. Quickly, the force drew stronger, slamming the soldiers into a prone position and making them stiff as a rock. Their screams were soon muffled by blood pooling from their face.
"How did our arrows miss? How did our infantry die without Grock raising a finger?" Questioned Clark.
"I've grown bored. Now it's time to crush you all like bugs!" Shouted Grock menacingly.
"That's it! I've figured it out!" Clark said with triumph. He raised his bow and drew another arrow. Instead of aiming at Grock, he aimed into the sky and loosed the arrow. This time, the arrow soared up, and on its way down, it hit Grock in the head like a hawk hunting its prey, causing him to collapse spilling blood over the fresh snow. The war horns began again and hundreds of creatures identical to Grock charged Terragrain.
A surge of energy pulsed through Clark. He felt stronger, faster, and smarter. Suddenly, a mysterious voice inside his head began to speak. "Congratulations, Clark! You have leveled up to level one. Your Stats have increased by one. You have unlocked a new skill: precision strike"
"Wait, what!" Clark said in surprise. "What do you mean, leveled up? Am I cursed???