Almost ten years had passed since the Blight first appeared. For nearly a decade, the lands of Leviticus had been ravaged by the thriving undead hive mind it had spawned. Countless cities had fallen to its relentless assaults and many more were still under siege. One of humanity's last bastions of hope, Matlachae, had yet to be blemished by the taint of the Blight.
Matlachae was a city of wonder. Ran by a council of elder magi, it produced the most brilliant strategists in the war against the Blight. In order to assure that no single school of magicks was to gain power over any of the others, the elders chose their successors, provided they studied the same school.
There were six schools of magicks; Fire, Frost, Mind, Necromancy, Light, and Nature. Each possessed their own strengths and weaknesses. Matlachae was home to them all. Day in and day out, countless caravans passed through, bringing more supplies and students.
Kaedin had been hiding out here in a room he rented above The Stuck Boar, a tavern in the slums of the Necromagi district. For the past three years he had been able to successfully avoid the legionnaires of the Silver Hand and the countless bounty hunters who were after the price on his head. It was only here, where such dark magicks were taught, that he could feel safe.
Sitting at his usual table in the corner of the alehouse, he took a deep draught from his tankard when the front door flew open. Looking up from under his hood, he immediately noticed a silver hammer fashioned in the image of a cross. Drawing his cloak around him, he leaned in closer to the table, hovering over his drink.
"Get out of my tavern," shouted Orclev, the man who ran the Stuck Boar.
"Relax old man, we just want some information. You see, we heard from a reliable source that the man my associate and I are looking for has taken up room and board in this here establishment. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Looking up, Kaedin saw who was talking. There were two of them, both men, but one seemed oddly familiar to Kaedin.
"Don't know what you're talking about. Haven't had any new tenants in months. Blights gone off and taken all me regulars, you see." replied Orclev.
The man who had spoken looked around the room at all the patrons, pausing as he passed his gaze over each one. When he looked at Kaedin, he turned back and spoke to the barkeep once more. "Fine old man, I'll leave it be for now. Just remember this though. Anyone found harboring a fugitive of the Silver Light is treated just like the fugitive themselves. I don't think that you would want to lose you tavern, or your head, now would you?"