The last thing I remember is the dark.
The suffocating, writhing Darkness.

I remember the sound of bones breaking, the screams as their souls were ripped from their bodies by this writhing necrotic heap of tentacles and mist, tessellating somewhere between solidity and gas. It defied all physics, and it was a threat to everyone. It had to be extinguished by the light. That day was not the time or place, evidently. They all perished, as did I. I can’t remember if I died on my own accord, or if I was consumed by that vile formless beast, but I left my body. I came back somehow, and I now find myself in the company of a strange little creature who goes by Timber. I find that keeping her around is quite helpful since she can track down blood for me. Although she can be a pain, she forced me to rise from my slumber, and I thank her for that. My master, Ados, has given me purpose again. Through the gem in my right palm, I see things as He does. He speaks to me, and I, His humble servant, comply with a sense of duty. He is the Great Orator, yet I am the only one who can hear His voice and command. I shall bring the fragments together, scattered throughout this wretched land called Greywall. I will bring back the power of Ados.

I remember that there were Forty-Nine of us. We each carried a blade. We each quested to plunge it into the Dark. I remember fighting alongside the Royal Dal family. Why couldn't we kill it? We tried and tried. Each legendary warrior fell one by one, the Darkness wiping them from existence. I can’t remember what happened to Bani Dal, or Queen Dal. King Dal led the final push against the void- the formless being comprised of pure shadowy, necrotic energy.