The Darkness rolled over the hills and farms the way storm clouds had the day before. The Black Army moved methodically and with deliberate intent across the countryside. The people of Starhaven, my town, fled before the onslaught. Those who remained were mercilessly slaughtered. No one could stand before the vast army. But before the slaughter came the terror and realization that the army was proceeded by the Purple Rooks. Each rook, was as large as a small mountain that moved mechanically before the sword and shield bearing humans. Seeing a rook in the wild was one thing. But when the knowledge hit that these purple rooks were being led and controlled by a single man, caused panic and despair among what populace remained.

Many simply fell prostrate onto the ground as if praying to the huge magical automatons. Whether prostrate or not, the army spared no one. All were killed or crushed by the rooks. No one was prepared or able to resist. Not even my parents who, in a panic, shoved me into a small cubby hole in our root cellar.

I heard their screams as the home above me was flattened by the carnage of the Purple Rooks. I sat cowering and crying, unable to think or move. The darkness around me was filled with the noise of the destructive and deadly stomping. I sat for hours, afraid to move. It felt like an eternity as the earth shook around me.

Then, there was silence. Dust filled my nostrils threatening a sneeze, but I fought it, as I was afraid of alerting the army and the rooks. Eventually, I fought and dug my way out of the cellar through the debris and of collapsed and crushed stone and timbers.

I stood and stared at what remained of my town and home—a flattened and barren plain. All the houses, the people, were gone or killed. Even the trees were gone, crushed under the feet of the Purple Rooks. In desperation, I ran calling and searching, screaming for my parents. That is where my story begins.