The Age of Men

The shadows lengthen, the light fades, and night comes to the world.

Darkness reaches forth its taloned hands, and the shadows dance and caper in anticipation of the long night to come. A night that, should it have its way, will destroy the light and those who serve it, will leave nothing but the cold, empty darkness in which the nightlings roam and feast.

It is close now, that night, that darkness. It creeps over the horizon toward the city of Valeria. Toward the world. It is carried in the claws of the nightlings who serve it, in the blades and the hearts of those men and women who, twisted by grief or pain, have come to call it master. They bear that darkness, these mortals, these creatures of the night, toward the city of Valeria and its people, a cruel message borne by cruel couriers and one that can mean only one thing: death.

Death for the city and all those in it, death for the world... for the Light. But Alesh and his companions, all those brave defenders of Valeria, will not stand by and allow the world to slip into the shadows without a fight. They will stand against the nightlings, against the Darkness, against even the gods themselves. For what comes, should Alesh and the others be victorious, is not an age of darkness or shadows or even gods. What comes, then, is the Age of Men.