Prologue:

Once there was born a young man, by his parents he was given the name Slain. This man was the son of a blacksmith. At the age of four the childs mother died in a horrible accident. As time passed, the child grew both in strength and mind. When he was aged eleven, a church near his village wanted to recruit him into the ranks of their paladins. Slains father felt joy, as he saw his son leave with the priests. Many years passed, and Slain became a young man, pure at heart and mind. By his 18th birthday he left the curch to visit his father. When he came to the village, wich was located between Trinsic and Skara Brae, he saw people running in terror. Hurrying down towards his fathers home he saw many buildings on fire. He raced through the door, inside he saw his fathers corpse and next to it, a horrible sight, half a dozen skeletons with swords high. The undead stopped molesting the corpse and turned to Slain. A cry of anger split his shivering lips and he drew his broad sword and attacked the skeletons. With deep wounds but victorious he left the house. Outside he saw a knight with dark greyish-black armour, riding a large war horse shouting orders to the unlife that he commanded. Slain darted towards him, but a blow at his head quickly made him fall, a hail of blows from a mace struck his head and he became unconscius. When he woke up there was nothing left of the village, what they had been looking for here he could not comprehend. Answers, my mentor must have answers, he though. Slain quickly travelled back to his curch. Once there, he could hardly belive his eyes, half of the monestary destroyed and the other part burning. Monks and preachers lay beside each other dead, the paladin guards had been slain, many was beheaded. At the center of the yard Slain saw some of his old masters, among them the Arch Preacher of the Curch. They where talking to the knight in black, whom they called Zanbar Bone. Slain stared in terror, not beliving what he had seen, he turned and started to stumble into the woods. Slain walked aimlessly for many days, until he simply fell to the ground. Exhausted and weak, he drifted into sleep. Slain woke up in a small hut, belonging to a druid. For one year the druid thaught Slain about the way of the wild, and Slain was recuperating from his mental and physical wounds. On his 19th birthday, the druid after finishing one of his many books told Slain that he must travel to Trinsic, there he shall find a man of noble birth, but cast from his society as a criminal. You shall find a man who practices the art of Magicka. Slain never argued with the druid, and asked when he should return. The druid said that they will meet again soon. The next day, Slain and the druid departed.