They call us the Black Wends, these men of kingdoms young, but our colour was ever venous red. The Old Walls tell the tale of a kingdom that was once valorous and bold, in the days when the Godless King was thrown down by a gathering of the races, and man first freed from thraldom. But the paint of the ancient murals leaches away from the wall’s crumbling stone, and the Henbane Banners fly low and threadbare. Tsirin, one of the last of an order of archaic silver knights long since bereft of their glory and lustre, rides home to Royal Arkona to warn of the coming doom, and the armies of the lonely god that approach. Yet the days of his people’s great majesty and strength are gone, the marches lost and the watchtowers fallen in – and the Black Wends remembered by their subjects only as cruel and rapacious lords. From the city Tsirin and his apprentice ride forth at the side of the vile Princess Vedma, and the prickly thegn Casimir, with but one hope; to raise the oath-bound vassals of the old kingdom and its long forgotten power, to face the forces of their destruction. Past ruined temple and sundered keep, through lands dark and filled with the remnant beings of elder days – ogres, great wyrms and the beastly Urok – their journey takes them. And all the while, Tsirin cannot help but wonder… Do our people deserve to go on?