~ pulling this one off the shelf ~
'Twas a time of dread. The land, once so fair, now ravaged by the greatest pestilence since the time of the "Black Wanderer" and the "Unborn one". Three thousand years have passed, years in which the once beautiful land has all but been destroyed. For three thousand years nothing has been heard of the "Mysterious Stranger", but now on a dark, wet and windy night be returns, to you, a descendent of the "Singer of the Song". You are a mere child, still flushed with the vigour of youth, but it is to you he comes. You who have never done anything heroic in all of your seventeen years.
