The black hooded person stood in front of the altar. Everything was silent except for the soft chanting voice as the hooded person started the ritual. No animal was seen, not a single deer or elk was in the vicinity of the ruin to graze there. The blood red moon seemed so close, presenting an ominous scene as it rose above the Gjukar Monument a small distance away from the ritual. 

Finally a small breeze seem to circle the altar, a breeze that soon increased in its intensity along with the crackling of magic as it ripped a hole in the Reality. The Necromancer's eyes widened in surprise and fear when the edge of the rip starts wavering. Something was wrong! But before he could do anything else, the rip destabilized and exploded around the altar, throwing rocks and dirt. The Necromancer's luck run out as the explosion sent the Necromancer's head to meet an unforgiving rock.

The unstable rip wavered in and out of phase, slowly disappearing, but not before something traveled through it and fell beside the altar. The rip finally disappeared completely, leaving only the remnants of magic humming around the area.

And so, our story began.