What is a man to do when chaos begins to consume the lands he once called home? As the sun dies out, and the skies begin to plunge into darkness, the chilling cold of the curdling air that fills your lungs is your only comfort. Your skin stings from the embers of the burning sanctuary you once called home, now just a grim reminder of the fleeting joys of life.
A peasant and a lord are equal when there is no one left to rule.