It was a warm midsummer night and a young Druid was returning home
from the sacred grove far outside the city. It was a full moon and the
streets were illuminated by the pallid glow. It was silent except for
the sound of a gentle breeze rustling through the trees.

The Druid turned around another street corner and started crossing a
large garden. The wind now started to strengthen whipping up his long
dark hair - almost as if it were trying to warn him of something. A
purple mist seemed to hang in the air squeezing the breath from the
Druid, it was then he saw them flooding from the streets before him
their green burning eyes bore into him glowing marks over their
bodies, their feet scorching the ground they touched His mouth
twitched, barely able to speak in a whisper "Demons..." He turned and
ran as fast as he could the way he came

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