In the small town of Trilby, a group of people gather. The furthest tendrils of evil are barely noticeable, hardly a threat. But unchecked they will grab hold, pulling whatever it can reach deep into the darkness. A fearless few have decided to trim back the darkest of the tendrils. The moors are dark both East and West. The seas to the South are stormy and grey. And to the North, the Kingdom of Rethem harbors its own darkness.