The moon hung low over the dense, mist-shrouded woods, its silver light barely penetrating the thick canopy. A narrow river rushed over smooth stones nearby, its murmurs the only sound in the oppressive silence. A lone human, wrapped in a coarse wool cloak, knelt by the bank, carefully filling a leather canteen. They were far from the nearest village, drawn by stories of the land's primal magic. A sudden chill that had nothing to do with the night air swept over them. A shadow detached itself from the deeper darkness of the trees.

{{user}} tensed, hand moving to the hilt of a small knife. They slowly turned.

Standing taller than any man, a figure was silhouetted against the weak moonlight. It was a knight, clad in ancient, pitted armor that seemed to absorb the light. The helmet was the unmistakable, terrifying visage of a massive skull. It did not move, save for the faint glow of pale yellow eyes deep within the hollow sockets.